Page 23 of Surgeon in a Tux


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‘See you.’ She almost turned her head as he went to give her a kiss but he captured her cheeks and kissed her properly, nicely, deeply, and then, before he asked her a question, he wisely held her wrists.

‘Are you getting your period?’

She almost went to lift her hand but his grip tightened and she gave a wry smile at his foresight. She was in a dangerous mood, an unpredictable mood.

‘Are you worried that I might be pregnant?’

‘No,’ Leo said. ‘I’m just trying to account for your mood.’

‘It’s not very twenty-first century to ask a woman—’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Yes, Leo,’ Lizzie duly said. ‘I have raging PMS, of course that’s what’s wrong.’ She pulled her hands away and opened the door. ‘I’ll see you at work.’ She heard the lift and guessing it could well be Ethan she headed for the stairs, but Leo halted her.

‘You’re not, are you?’

And she looked at him, a man who, no doubt, could not think of anything worse.

‘No, Leo. I’m not pregnant. Your carefree days aren’t over.’

She loathed the breath he let out and the relief in his eyes at her answer and ran down the stairs as if someone was chasing her.

Something was.

Lizzie stepped onto the street and the tears she’d been holding back tumbled out there and then. So much for dressing for the commuters. There was a mad woman sobbing as she walked, because, of all the stupid things to go and do, she was head over heels in love with him.

Real love.

A few weeks in and despite her best efforts not to she was thinking stupid things—like a life with Leo, and babies and having that heart to herself. And it was stupid, it was mad, and she’d waited this long because she wanted Mr Right.

She’d just never known Mr Right would also be Mr Completely Wrong and Never Want to be Tied Down.

It wasn’t his fault.

Leo was who he was.

She just happened to love him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IT WAS A bad day at the office.

Leo and Ethan were bunkered down in Leo’s office for most of the day but the tension from behind the door seemed to seep out and attach itself to everyone.

Rafael looked almost grey as he dashed back between theatre cases to check on a child who had a post-operative fever. Lizzie was trying to calm the mother down more than the baby when a grim-faced Rafael pulled her aside.

‘I asked you to tell her to take the baby over to the Lighthouse for me to examine him.’

‘I know that,’ Lizzie said, ‘but she thought I said we would see him here and then, if needed, transfer him to hospital. It was a simple miscommunication.’

Lizzie could see he was holding onto his temper—a simple miscommunication, with Rafael’s heavy operating list, was something he simply did not need. On top of that he had a wife in America and a very sick baby of his own to worry about.

‘Will you give him his first dose of antibiotic and arrange for him to be admitted?’ Rafael asked.

‘Of course,’ Lizzie said. ‘Rafael …’ She wanted to ask how things were but Leo had said not to and she saw too the warning in Rafael’s eyes for Lizzie not to go there so she changed what she was about to say. ‘I am sorry for the mix-up.’

His anger dimmed then and he gave a small nod of thanks for her about turn and gave a wry smile and Lizzie saw a glimpse of the real Rafael—gorgeous, passionate, and terribly Italian. He apologised for his non-outburst with his smile and his eyes. ‘That’s not a problem—it was a simple miscommunication.’

It was more of the same all day. Ethan left looking boot-faced and then Leo headed over to Kate’s, where he had surgery scheduled into the evening, but he did stop by her office to say goodbye.

‘I don’t know what happened this morning.’

Lizzie looked up at him.

‘I think …’ He just looked at her and she looked back at him—a man who didn’t hang around waiting for the rows to start, a man who saved work for work, not relationships.

‘Maybe it’s better not to think sometimes,’ Lizzie said.

Leo nodded.

He didn’t want to think about that morning’s row, he didn’t want to acknowledge they’d lain in his bed together but apart last night, bristling with rancour—like some miserable married couple who saved sex for birthdays and anniversaries.

It was just one night, he reasoned.

Couples rowed sometimes.

He just didn’t want to be half of that couple that rowed sometimes.

‘That function I have to attend on Saturday,’ Leo said. ‘Lexi’s pushing for a response …’

‘I told you.’ Lizzie looked up at him. ‘I’m seeing my parents this weekend.’

Leo just looked at her. ‘These things are bad enough at the best of times,’ he attempted, ‘without having to go alone.’ He was trying to keep his voice even, what the hell was the point of having a plus one if she couldn’t even attend? What the hell was the point in committing to a relationship if she was never around?

And Lizzie looked at him. Why should she drop her visit to her parents for a man who was going to drop her any time soon?

It was unsustainable.

The both knew it.

‘Come over tonight,’ Leo said, but she shook her head. ‘Come over,’ Leo repeated. ‘You know that we need to talk.’

‘Talk, then.’

‘We can’t here.’

She blew out a breath and nodded. They had to work together after all so they had to end it, and neatly.

Nicely.

Lizzie did consider just heading home, maybe they should write today off as a bad one, yet she knew it was more than that.

Cracks were appearing and Leo wasn’t one for papering over them, whereas she had the sudden image of her rushing around with a trowel in a frantic attempt to repair them before everything was broken.

It had to be over, Lizzie knew that.

How, though?

How did you end something so wonderful just because you knew it couldn’t last?

Wait till it’s horrible, wait till the rows start?

They were almost there.

Lizzie took the lift up to his flat and as she stepped out she blinked as she saw a huge bunch of roses and chocolates there and was reminded just how very nice Leo could be—that in the middle of a very long day he had taken the time to think of her.

Of them.

Lizzie wasn’t really one for red roses but she read the card.

‘Seeing as you can’t make it for Valentine’s I thought we could have our own tonight. Lx’

They couldn’t make it.

Both of them knew.

Oh, God.

They were over, and both knew it.

Tonight was their goodbye, their Valentine’s. Before they took to fighting, before things turned bitter, they would end it nicely.

She wasn’t overthinking things—in the little time they’d been together they had come to know each other well.

Too well perhaps, Leo thought as he finished operating and headed to the changing rooms.

Rafael was there, getting changed to head over to the Lighthouse, he told Leo.

‘How are Abbie and Ella?’ Leo asked, but Rafael was in no mood to talk. He just gave some vague answer and then said he was in a rush.

Leo wished Rafael would speak with him but really he couldn’t blame him for not doing so. After all, the last thing Leo wanted to do was discuss his feelings for Lizzie with anyone.

Maybe Ethan?

Yeah, that would go down well.

He and Lizzie were too close for comfort, Leo thought as he drove home.

The traffic was bad, he’d have been quicker walking or at least taking the Tube, but he was actually glad of the pause before he got home to Lizzie.

Home to Lizzie.

He was growing far too used to that and Leo wasn’t used to relying on anyone.

How, in just a few weeks, had she come to be such a part of his life? Leo didn’t like it, loathed the thought that he might ever need another person.

As he pulled up his phone rang and, seeing it was Lexi, Leo took the call.

‘I need a response for Saturday,’ Lexi said. ‘I’ve been putting it off.’

So had Leo.

‘Yes, I’ll be attending.’

‘Who’s your guest?’ Lexi asked. ‘They need it for the table plan.’

He sat and stared out of the window. The wipers were still going and he watched the light bouncing off the black roads and he paused for a long moment before answering.

‘I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know in the morning.’

Lexi didn’t turn a hair. It was a regular response from Leo. He always left things like this till the last minute—his low attention span with women ensured that names could not be given weeks in advance.

He’d asked Lizzie, but she’d said no.

You could always go alone, a voice that sounded like his own told him.

‘Why?’ Leo said to the silence. ‘Why should I?’

Because that’s what relationships are about, that small voice told him.

Compromise.

It wasn’t something he did well.

As the door opened Lizzie’s back was towards him. He saw her putting roses in the vase, he could see her slender arms and the curve of her bottom in the fitted skirt, and he just wanted to go over, turn her around and just bury himself in her, yet he held back.

‘They’re for you.’

‘I know,’ Lizzie said, ‘but for all the time I’m at home …’ She halted, saw the brief look in his eyes and simply didn’t want go there just yet. Neither did Leo. ‘Let’s just enjoy them tonight.’

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