ABBY watched with a sinking feeling in her heart as the nitrazine paper turned the tell-tale shade of blue. She raised her head and gave Jennifer a rueful smile as she showed her the paper. ‘Well, I think we can safely say that your membranes have ruptured.’
‘They have?’
‘Yes. This paper turns blue when it comes into contact with amniotic fluid.’
Jennifer blew out a long, slow breath from her pursed lips. ‘It’s too early. What happens now?’
Abby snapped off her gloves, walking quickly to the sink to wash her hands. She finished and sat down at the side of the bed next to Jennifer, trying to work out what to tell her.
‘It won’t really be up to me, it will be up to Dr Fairgreaves—the obstetrician that’s coming to see you. I just needed to confirm your membranes had ruptured so I can give him the whole picture.’
‘Do you need to examine me any further?’ Jennifer gave a little grimace and Abby knew exactly what she meant.
She shook her head. ‘No, actually, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. Ideally what we want to do right now is to delay you going into labour for as long as possible.’
‘Tell it to me straight, Dr Tyler.’
Abby leaned over and held Jennifer’s hand. ‘There are a number of things for Dr Fairgreaves to consider.’ She held up the buff-coloured folder. ‘From your notes I see that you’re currently 31 weeks and 4 days. He may decide to give you some steroids to help mature your baby’s lungs in case of early delivery. He might also decide to give you some antibiotics to help prevent infection.’
‘Am I going to deliver early?’
Abby shook her head. ‘I’m not really qualified to tell you that. I do know that about 80 per cent of women whose membranes rupture go into labour within four days.’
Jennifer took a deep breath and her hands rested automatically on her swollen abdomen. ‘What are my baby’s chances?’
Abby shook her head. ‘We’ll talk about that when Dr Fairgreaves gets here. I want to hear what his professional opinion is before we start leaping to any conclusions. From right now, though, you’re on strict bed rest.’
Jennifer threw up her hands in frustration. ‘But I’ve already been on bed rest!’
Abby raised one eyebrow. ‘Have you?’
Jennifer watched her carefully before finally answering, ‘Well, maybe not complete bed rest.’
‘We need to monitor your baby for any signs of distress and monitor you for any sign of infection.’ She hesitated a little before continuing, ‘It might also be advisable to move you to a hospital with better facilities for pre-term babies.’
Jennifer looked deep in thought and bit her bottom lip. ‘Where would that be?’
‘The nearest is San Francisco Children’s Hospital. They have a special ICU for premature deliveries.’
‘No.’
The voice was clear and decisive and took Abby completely by surprise.
‘What?’
Jennifer folded her arms firmly across her chest. ‘I’m staying here.’
Abby shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why on earth would you want to stay here?’
‘Wouldn’t moving me be dangerous?’
Abby shifted uncomfortably. Jennifer’s sharp retort unnerved her. In an instant she was in a witness box and being cross-examined by the more-than-capable lawyer. This wasn’t her specialty and she was beginning to feel at little out of her depth. ‘This is a conversation you need to have with your obstetrician.’
‘Oh.’
This response was different. Quiet and unsure. She’d gone from being a feisty lawyer to an imminent first-time mom in a matter of seconds. This woman was more scared than she was letting on.
‘What’s he like?’ Jennifer ran her fingers through her uncombed hair. ‘Your obstetrician.’ She hesitated for a second. ‘Is he good?’
Abby gave her a little smile. ‘Officially he’s retired. But in answer to your question he’s better than good—he’s great.’ She was interrupted by a heavy knock at the door.
‘Abby…Dr Tyler, can I see you please?’
Abby could hear the anxiety in Luke’s voice. She gave Jennifer a smile, picked up the notes and headed to the door. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
She pulled a pen from her pocket as she opened the door. She wanted to make sure she’d recorded everything perfectly. With her head in the notes she walked straight into Luke’s broad chest.
‘Ow! Luke, what are you doing?’
Luke shook his head and pointed sideways in exasperation. ‘Please tell me that isn’t your obstetrician.’
Abby followed to where his finger was pointing to a small dishevelled character dressed from head to toe in fishing gear, with an upright fishing rod perched precariously in his hand. He was surrounded on all sides by men in black suits and was protesting loudly, ‘Who the hell are you lot?’
Abby’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘It certainly is,’ she said as she shouldered her way past the security detail. ‘Dr Fairgreaves, I’m so glad you’re here.’ She wrapped him in a warm embrace and pulled him to one side. ‘We need to have a private chat about our patient.’
She handed him the buff-coloured folder and watched as he ran his eyes over the presidential seal on the bottom corner of the notes. His eyes narrowed. ‘Who’s this?’ He gestured in frustration as a figure appeared at Abby’s side.
Luke. ‘I was just about to ask you the same question,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘I might be old, son, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’
‘Well, do you always come to work looking like this?’ Luke gestured towards the fishing gear.
‘Son, I try not to come to work at all if I can help it. I’m retired.’
‘You’re retired?’ Luke’s voice rose in pitch.
Abby cleared her throat loudly before the conversation got out of hand. ‘Luke, I’d like you to meet Dr David Fairgreaves, our honorary obstetrician, and, David, I’d like you to meet Dr Luke Storm, he’s a cardiologist from Washington who brought the First Lady in.’
David’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Why the hell is a cardiologist bringing a pregnant lady to hospital?’
Abby smiled. In an instant she wasn’t the First Lady any more, she was simply an expectant mother, like any other. She loved that about David Fairgreaves—even though he’d been pursued by many dignitaries and celebrities for his services, he never wasted time on pomp and ceremony. His patients were just that, his patients.
Abby slid her arm around David Fairgreaves’s shoulders, ‘Her own obstetrician is currently having an MI—Luke is about to treat him.’
David stared at Luke for a moment before finally grunting, ‘Fine, then.’ He sat down and started reading the notes.
Luke stood frozen to the spot. ‘David Fairgreaves? The David Fairgreaves?’
Abby nodded in recognition of the man who was famous all over America for his ground-breaking work. He’d received numerous awards for pioneering the procedure to retrieve stem cells from the umbilical cord. Something that seemed almost commonplace now, but at the time had been a real revolutionary leap of faith. He’d done that while continuing to work as an obstetrician and was known as one of the best in America.
Luke groaned. ‘This is turning into a bad TV show. What on earth is David Fairgreaves doing here?’
‘You mean in this backwater place?’ She couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into her voice. Then, seeing the expression on his face, Abby sneaked her hand around his waist and gave him a quick hug. Luke’s stress levels seemed to be going through the roof. The warmth of his body immediately poured through her skin. She raised her head up towards his and smiled. ‘Fishing.’
‘What?’ Luke looked totally bewildered.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He’s got a fishing boat in Pelican Cove, and now he’s retired he spends half the year here. We have an informal arrangement together that I can call him out for any obstetric emergencies and he loves it.’
Luke studied the man in the rumpled clothes sitting in the chair in front of him. ‘He looks about a hundred and ten,’ he whispered.
‘Well, he’s not quite that old,’ she whispered back, ‘and he’s as sharp as a tack so don’t annoy him.’
Luke looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any second. Abby pulled her arm from his waist and turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers.
‘Look on the bright side, Luke. If someone had asked you to pick any doctor in the world to deliver the President’s pre-term baby, who would you have picked?’
She watched as the significance of her words began to sink in. The deep wrinkles in Luke’s forehead began to soften. ‘I guess you’re right,’ he said.
‘You know I am.’ She lifted herself up on her tip toes and kissed the tip of his nose. ‘Now, go and deal with your MI. I’ll come and find you if there’s any problems.’
He nodded, still lost in thought, before taking a deep breath and pulling his hands from hers. ‘Okay,’ he murmured as he turned and started to head off down the corridor.
Abby watched for a second. Her lips felt as if they were on fire. A thousand little pins were prickling them, leaving them alive with sensation after touching his skin.
‘Dr Tyler?’
Abby started at the deep voice behind her.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m James Turner.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘I’m in charge of the protective detail for the First Lady.’
Abby nodded silently. The craggy-faced man from earlier. He was a large, imposing fellow with a small scar that snaked across the bridge of his nose. Her mind exploded with a thousand possibilities as to how it had got there, before his intense gaze jerked her back into focus. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Turner?’
‘This is your department?’ It didn’t sound like a question coming from his lips, more like a statement.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Well, sorry, ma’am, but I need to close your emergency department down.’
‘What?’ Abby’s screech of disbelief echoed around the building. ‘You most certainly will not. I won’t let you. You don’t have the authority to do that…’
He silenced her by holding his hand up directly in front of her face.
‘I do have the authority. As of now, your department is closed. I also need access to all your personnel files.’
‘What?’ This was just going from bad to worse. He wanted to close her department and then spend the day looking at files?
‘I need to have access to everyone’s history. We need to run security checks on everyone in the building.’
‘You want to do what? No! You can’t do that!’
‘Yes, yes, I can. And I will.’ His broad hand had caught her arm to stop her gesticulating wildly. ‘Nothing is more important than the safety and security of the First Lady.’
Abby took a deep breath. ‘Look, Mr Turner, while I appreciate you have a job to do—so do I. This is a small community.’ She waved her arm around the department. ‘I know every single member of staff here. None of them are a risk to the First Lady’s safety or security. I can personally vouch for them all.’
‘That’s very nice, Dr Tyler.’ He shot her a white-toothed, crooked grin. ‘But it’s not going to cut it. We’ll run our own checks on everyone here.’ He glanced around the bustling department. ‘And we’re going to have to restrict the number of staff.’
Abby shook her head. ‘This is a community hospital, Mr Turner. We serve a widespread population that doesn’t have easy access to emergency facilities. If you close us down, the nearest emergency unit is 50 miles away. If there’s an accident at one of the nearby saw mills, or at the harbour, that travel time could cost the life of a patient. We also have links with a special-needs school near here—Parkside. We often have children brought in with breathing or feeding difficulties—taking them somewhere else would cause immense difficulties.’
She glanced towards the white board, which only showed three patients in the department at the moment—two of whom were with James Turner. ‘We’re not normally this quiet.’ Her mind was spinning with endless possibilities. ‘I know this isn’t an ideal situation but the most realistic solution is to move Jennifer Taylor to one of the ward areas once Dr Fairgreaves has examined her. If she’s out of the emergency department, do you really have to close us down?’ Abby couldn’t keep the pleading sound out of her voice. She just couldn’t turn patients away, not when they needed her. ‘I’ll let you see the personnel records if you want—just let me check with the hospital administrator. You’re not going to find anything anyway, but please don’t close down the emergency department.’
‘Do you have floor plans for the hospital?’
He hadn’t moved a muscle. Abby was sure he hadn’t even blinked.
‘What? Yes…yes, I think so.’ She pointed over his shoulder. ‘They’ll be in the hospital administrator’s office.’
‘I’ll get back to you, Dr Tyler.’ He turned swiftly on his heel and stalked off in the direction of the nearby office.
Abby leaned back against the nearby wall and breathed a huge sigh of relief. There was only one other patient in the department right now. Dr Fairgreaves was dealing with Jennifer Taylor. She’d need to wait and see what his recommendations would be. She glanced at her watch and stared up the corridor. She could almost feel the invisible pull. Luke was up there. Probably performing an angioplasty. It had been years since she’d seen him at work. Maybe it was time to go and offer some moral support?
* * *
Luke’s head was spinning. He pushed open the door to the changing room with unexpected venom and started as it thumped off the wall. The First Lady was going to have her baby. Her obstetrician had had an MI. The new obstetrician looked like a tramp but had the credentials of a king. And they were stuck in some backwater part of Mendocino Valley. Stuck with Abby Tyler. He couldn’t have made this up.
He tugged at his red tie and undid the buttons on his shirt, stuffing them in a nearby empty locker. Behind him he found a variety of sizes of theatre scrubs and pulled the familiar clothing over his head.
And she’d kissed him. The lightest kiss, as if a feather had brushed the tip of his nose, and it had sent his blood soaring through his veins as if a rocket had just taken off. What on earth was happening? They’d laughed through their medical training together, stressed through their exams, but spent most of their time in each other’s arms. And for a while he had never been happier. The dark cloud that had hung over his head since his brother had died had finally lifted. He’d met the woman of his dreams. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Until she’d started to talk about the future. Their future. A future that involved them having a family. And the dark cloud had appeared again, nestling around his head and shoulders until it had completely enveloped him.
They had been midway through their specialist training by then—he in cardiology, she in paediatrics. And he’d begun to see her in a completely different light. Whenever she’d spoken about the kids, even the ones with terrible outcomes, she’d had a sparkle in her eyes. On the few occasions he’d gone to pick her up from the ward, he’d never found her stuck in an office with her head in the notes—no, she had always been right in the middle of things, leading the games in the middle of the ward, usually with a child under each arm.
He’d seen a few of his friends start to flourish when they’d commenced their specialty, becoming more animated and enthusiastic when they’d spoken about their work. But Abby had truly blossomed. She had excelled at her job and hadn’t hidden her thrill at finally specialising in paediatrics. And after years of study that’s when she’d started to plan ahead. To plan for a family. A family he could never have. And that’s when he’d broken her heart. That’s when he told her he was infertile—an unfortunate complication of teenage mumps.
There had been so many other things going on in his life at the time, and although he had known it was important, he hadn’t taken the time or had the maturity to understand the wider implications—that one day he would meet the woman of his dreams and she would want a family. A family he couldn’t give her.
Maybe it was his fault? Maybe he should have told her right from the beginning that he couldn’t have kids. But then again, it wasn’t your everyday normal topic of conversation. But three years into their relationship—when he’d started to see the signs—he’d sat her down and told her.
To give her her due, Abby had made all the right noises, told him it didn’t matter, that she loved him and that they would find a way to have a family together. But for Luke it had been the death knell of their relationship.
From the moment he’d heard the word ‘infertile’ he’d blocked out all thoughts of a family. Surely there was a hidden message there? If he couldn’t have kids naturally, maybe he wasn’t meant to have kids?
She’d talked about donor sperm, adoption, other possibilities—but he hadn’t wanted to think about those options. Truth was he wasn’t ready to consider those options as he hadn’t really faced up to his infertility yet. So he’d shut himself off from those conversations and had point-blank refused to consider any possibilities.
Every time after that he’d looked at Abby, he’d felt as if he was cheating her. Cheating her out of the opportunity to be a mother.
Five years they’d been together but they’d slowly, but surely, drifted apart.
The door on the other side leading into the theatre swung open. ‘Dr Storm?’ A pretty Asian woman looked at him, her dark hair poking out from under a theatre cap. He nodded.
She stuck out her hand. ‘Good, I’m Dr Lydia King. Abby sent me along to assist you.’ He gave her a little nod in recognition as he shook her hand and she backed out the door again. ‘I’ll just check on the patient and see you in there.’
A wave of anticipation swept over Luke as he pushed open the doors and entered the cardiac cath lab, quickly followed by a wave of nausea, most likely because he hadn’t had a chance to eat yet today. He glanced about him quickly, taking in the layout and equipment available. One of the NPs appeared at his side. ‘We’re all set up for you.’ She pointed in the direction of the sinks. ‘You can scrub up over there and I’ll gown you up. Would you like to come over and speak to Dr Blair first?’
Luke gave her a quick smile. ‘Of course I would.’ It only took three strides to cross over to where Dr Blair was lying on the table, monitors attached, pale and sweaty. ‘How’s Jennifer?’ he gasped.
Luke gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. ‘She’s just being examined now by one of the obstetricians but she’s doing fine. Let’s worry about you first.’
He watched the rapid, shallow breaths. ‘Let me explain the procedure to you.’
Dr Blair waved his hand in the air. ‘Son, don’t teach an old dog new tricks, just stick the thing in and get this blockage cleared. I feel as if a train is sitting on my chest,’ he wheezed.
Luke nodded. ‘Give me a few minutes while I scrub up and I’ll talk to you while we’re doing the procedure.’ He cast his eyes over one of the nearby monitors. ‘Can Dr Blair have some oxygen, please?’
The NP nodded before pulling a mask over Dr Blair’s head. She followed Luke over to the sink and waited while he scrubbed up. The door open and he turned as Abby came in.
‘Hi, Luke. You don’t mind a spectator, do you? I don’t get the chance to come in here much.’
Luke shook his head and shot her a gleaming smile from beneath his blue theatre hat. ‘Of course I don’t, Abby, you’re welcome in my cath lab any time.’
The words sent a shiver running down Abby’s spine and she felt a little warmth in her cheeks as she looked anxiously around the room. Had anyone else noticed? No, everyone else was going about their daily business. No one had noticed a thing. Maybe it was all in her mind?
And then he began. And it was like watching a master at work.
‘Are we ready to start?’ Luke asked Lydia and she gave him a quick nod as she finished administering the sedative.
‘Okay, Dr Blair, I’m just going to insert a little local anaesthetic down here.’ Abby watched as Luke swabbed the groin area surrounded by surgical drapes then numbed the area with local anaesthetic. He waited a few moments before lifting a scalpel and making a small nick into the skin, then expertly inserted the sheath into the artery.
With slow and deliberate actions he watched the X-ray monitor carefully as he slowly guided the catheter into place until it reached the site of the blockage. Over the course of the next 30 minutes he inserted the contrast material and established the full extent of the blockage.
‘Okay, Dr Blair, there is quite a significant blockage in your artery so I’m going to insert a stent to ensure we keep your artery open.’ He turned his head and exchanged a few words with Lydia, who gave him a nod in approval.
‘I’m going to use one of the newer drug-eluting stents. Have you heard of them?’
Dr Blair gave a little shake of his head from the theatre table.
‘This type of stent is coated with a medication that is slowly released to help keep the blood vessel from re-narrowing. They’ve just recently been approved for clinical use in the coronary arteries and I’ve had some really favourable results when I’ve used them.’
‘Whatever you think, Doc.’ Dr Blair waved his hand in nonchalance from the effect of the sedatives.
Luke gave a little smile and continued. Abby watched from the sidelines. He was an entirely different character in here. In his familiar medical setting Luke was the calmest man in the room. The consummate professional, who was relaxed and happy in his field of expertise. She almost laughed. She’d forgotten just how good he was. But take him out of his expert field…
A smile danced across her lips as she remembered the look on his face when he’d entered her emergency room—with his furrowed brow and anxiety levels reaching skyward. Not to mention when he’d first set eyes on Dr Fairgreaves in his fishing gear. She’d thought at that point he was going to blow a gasket at the thought of some country bumpkin delivering the President’s baby. But in here he was cool, calm and collected. None of the previous worries or anxieties showed. She watched as he spoke quietly to his surrounding staff, expertly guiding the stent into place, before removing the guide wire and catheter and applying firm pressure on the site.
He stood there for ten minutes, continuing to reinforce to Dr Blair what he’d done and giving instructions on follow-up care to the staff. ‘Can we keep him flat initially, please, and monitor the catheter site for bleeding and swelling? You can give me a call if there are any problems.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘Abby, do you have an emergency page you can give me in the meantime?’
Abby lifted her hand to show the pager she was already holding in her hand. ‘Your wish is my command.’ She laughed. ‘Just as well I switched my telepathic powers on this morning.’ She turned to the other staff. ‘You’ll be able to page Dr Storm on 556. If you forget, I’ve given his details to the switchboard operator.’ She turned back to Luke, just as his stomach let out a loud rumble. ‘Come on, I’ll wait with you while you change. I think it’s about time we had a coffee.’
Music to his ears. This was the weirdest day in history. Luke smiled as he held open the door for her. Thank the Lord for mixed changing rooms. Abby walked in front of him and his eyes fixated on her butt. She was wearing the same thin green scrubs he was, but on her they seemed so much more alluring. He squinted, trying to see through them. Where was her VPL? There was none. What did that mean? He felt a rush of blood. Thank the Lord that no one else was in here. ‘Do you do killer-strength coffee here?’
She raised her eyebrow. ‘In this backwater town? Do you still take four shots in one cup?’
The door banged shut behind them and he caught her by the waist and spun her around. ‘What do you think?’
Through the thin scrubs that she was wearing he could feel the warmth of her skin. Her head was just below his chin and there was that strawberry lip gloss again. Invading his senses and making every hair on his body stand on end. He gave out a little involuntary groan as she stepped closer, pressing her body against his. To hell with decorum. There had been too many distractions today already.
‘I think my telepathic powers are still working,’ she whispered, fixing him with her deep brown eyes. ‘And you’re not thinking about coffee any more.’
‘Five years is a long time, Abby,’ he growled.
‘Five years is a very long time, Luke.’
It was all the indication he needed. His hands crept around the edges of her waist, pulling her even closer, pressing her firm breasts against his muscled chest. Her head was tilted upwards towards his. Her eyes already half-shut, lips slightly parted in readiness for his kiss.
Using all the restraint he could muster, he bent his head and kissed her lightly, slowly, his teeth brushing her bottom lip. Her hands slid up around his neck, pulling him even closer. This was heaven. Heaven that he hadn’t known in five years.
The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, bringing with it the most natural, primal response. This would be the time in the movie that the romantic music started playing and they both fell to the floor in the bedroom of the beach house, with the patio doors wide open to the beach, a tropical sunset and waves lapping up towards them. But it wasn’t.
Right now all he wanted to do was have her. Right here. Right now. On the changing-room floor. Up against the wall. He didn’t care.
He slid his hand inside her scrub trousers. Bare skin. He almost groaned out loud. Then his fingers caught it, the edge of her thong. Abby in a thong. Now, there was a sight he hadn’t seen in years. His fingers flicked a little lower and she let out a gasp.
It stopped him in his tracks. Luke stepped back reluctantly, releasing her from his grasp, knowing that at any moment anyone could walk through either of the changing-room doors.
‘Abby…’
‘Don’t. Don’t say anything, Luke.’ Her breathing was hard and ragged. She adjusted her scrub top, which had ridden up past her waist, pulling it down sharply to reveal her erect nipples, clearly visible through the thin fabric.
His eyes fixated on the view, causing her to look down and cross her arms in front of her chest in embarrassment. ‘Stop it.’
‘I wasn’t doing anything.’ The corners of his lips turned upwards in the beginnings of a smile.
Abby sat down on the nearby bench and put her head in her hands. ‘This is madness.’
Luke hovered for an instant, unsure of what to do next, before sitting down next to her. His thigh brushed against hers and she jerked her leg away.
Her fingers parted slightly and she peeked out at him. ‘Stop touching me.’
He raised his eyebrow. ‘I am not having a conversation with a pair of hands.’
‘You’re going to have to, because I can’t stand looking at you.’
‘No, I’m not.’ His broad hands enveloped hers and gently pulled them away from her flushed face. ‘We’re adults, Abby, not children.’
‘You’re making me feel as if I’m eighteen again.’
Laughter lines appeared all around his eyes as a huge smile took over his face. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘Now, that I really would like to see again.’
She swatted at his leg as a new wash of red swept up into her cheeks. ‘Stop it. No, I mean it, stop it.’
Luke leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her babble. He was amused. The unflappable Abby Tyler was flustered. This was twice in one day. Had he ever seen her this way before?
She stood up and started pacing across the room. ‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know? Coming in here with the First Lady, the First Lady no less, and wreaking havoc in my emergency room. And as for the black brigade—they seem to have an amazing ability to self-replicate—they’re like a virus. One minute there’s five of them, two minutes later there’s ten of them! Where do they come from?’ She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘And James Turner—the Man in Black— threatened to shut my emergency department! And do you know they’re checking the personnel files of all my staff? How dare they? Bursting in here, taking over the place, then checking on my staff, my staff! Who do they think they are?’ Her voice had reached fever pitch by now.
Abby was frustrated. She was beyond frustrated. Sexually frustrated. Something she hadn’t experienced in five years. She’d just gone from the starting blocks to practically the finishing line in the flicker of an eye. Or more like the flicker of a finger.
But this wasn’t her. She didn’t do things like this any more. So why were her legs like jelly? Why couldn’t she look him in the eye? And why was she ranting and raving like an idiot? Things had changed. She couldn’t do anything like this now.
‘Have you finished?’
‘Hell, no! And as for you…’ She pointed a finger at him accusingly. ‘You virtually disappeared off the planet. No nice emails, no phone calls. Then you come in here after all this time and kiss me! Kiss me as if we’ve never been apart.’ And please kiss me again, only this time don’t stop. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been doing for the last five years, or where you’ve been, or who you’ve been with.’ Her voice fell as a sudden realisation hit her. ‘You could be married for all I know.’ Her eyes fell automatically to his left hand. No ring. Her eyes met his. ‘Are you?’
Luke shook his head. In an instant the colour had left her face, leaving her deathly pale. She looked as if she could fall over. He stood up and caught her by the shoulders. ‘Abby, calm down.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not married—of course I’m not married—I wouldn’t be kissing you if I was.’
The words hung in the air. He lifted his finger and touched her cheek. ‘And you know why there were no phone calls, no emails. Not because I didn’t care, Abby. I cared too much. And we both had to move on. I couldn’t do that if I’d seen or spoken to you every day—and it looks like you couldn’t too. You moved here, remember?’
She looked stunned. He was touching her again and the heat from his body was electric, causing ripple effects all over again. She shrugged her shoulders out from under his grasp. ‘I told you to stop touching me,’ she muttered as she turned around and started pulling things from the locker in front of her. ‘Here, put your clothes back on, please.’ She shoved his trousers at him, her hands feeling the expensive fabric beneath her fingers. ‘I guess you didn’t buy these in Target, did you?’
Her eyes fell to the obvious lump in his scrubs. It was still there. It hadn’t disappeared in an instant. After all this time she could still have a long-lasting effect on him. Was that good or bad? ‘Well, hurry up and put them on, maybe they’ll give you a little more coverage.’ She turned and pulled out his now crumpled white shirt and silk red tie, glancing at the labels. ‘You must be Washington’s best-dressed doctor.’
Luke shook his head and grabbed the shirt out of her hands, dropping it on the bench next to him as he pulled his scrub top over his head.
Abby stood frozen to the spot. The last time she’d seen those sun-kissed pecs and abs she’d been all over them. There was something really disconcerting about standing in an enclosed space with a half-dressed man who’d just kissed you. And his cheeky grin was infuriating her. No, really infuriating her.
This was all just a joke to him. He didn’t know how much her stomach was churning. She didn’t even care that the First Lady and her SWOT team were there. Well, maybe that wasn’t strictly true. But the First Lady was a patient, and patients she could deal with. Ex-lovers who’d broken her heart she couldn’t. Especially when they looked like Luke. With his white-blond hair, tanned skin and gleaming teeth he looked as if any minute now an ad company would come running in with their cameras, strap a surfboard to his back and whizz him off to an exotic beach location somewhere for a photo shoot.
She watched as he turned slightly to put his arm in his sleeve. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw something new, a little zigzag scar running across his shoulder blade. Before she had time to even think about it her finger was touching it.
‘That’s new. What happened?’
He stopped, leaving his shirt hanging halfway down his back as the tip of her finger lightly traced the line of the scar. ‘Abby…’
‘What?’ She was mesmerised by the ragged, uplifted skin. Maybe Luke wasn’t so perfect, after all?
Luke took a deep breath and glanced downwards. ‘Stop touching me,’ he growled.
She followed his gaze and pulled her hand back sharply. ‘Oops, sorry.’ She took a few steps and flattened herself against the far wall. She couldn’t touch him from over there. Just as well. She averted her eyes as he stepped out of the flimsy scrubs and into his designer trousers. Well, she tried to move her gaze, but still happened to catch the slightest glimpse of his trademark white tight-fitting shorts. Shorts that left nothing to the imagination, causing her to feel a tingling sensation between her thighs.
‘You’re driving me crazy,’ he growled again.
‘Sorry.’ She turned her back and found herself staring at the wall. Great. She was trapped in an enclosed space with a man she hadn’t seen in five years and all she wanted to do was jump on him. Now she really was acting like a teenager. Who was this Abby Tyler? Time to change the subject.
‘So how did you get the job?’
‘What job?’
‘Working for the President, of course!’
‘Oh, that job.’ She heard him rustling for a moment. ‘You can turn around now.’
Could she? Would he be completely undressed and ready for her? She whipped around. There he was. Fully dressed and still looking good enough to eat. She almost gave a sigh of disappointment. ‘Straighten your tie,’ she said as she pointed at the crooked tie. ‘I’d do it for you but I’m not allowed to touch.’
He gave her a sarcastic smile as he straightened his tie. ‘I don’t really work for the President. I’m just on his list.’
‘What does that mean—on his list?’
Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think they just like to cover all eventualities. I was approached a few years ago and asked if I would be the President’s cardiologist. They ran a huge number of checks on me, with my permission of course, and after a few months came back and explained that they would call if I was needed.’
‘I thought all the President’s doctors were from the military?’
Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘They usually are. But the military doesn’t cover all areas. The President’s physician is from the military and he’s in charge of the White House medical unit. But some of the other specialists are like me—just called in when, and if, they’re needed. Dr Blair was Jennifer Taylor’s family obstetrician. She brought him with her, because it’s been a long time since the White House needed an obstetrician.’
‘So you’ve never actually met him?’
Luke shook his head. ‘No, and today was the first time I’d met the First Lady too.’
‘And here was me thinking that you were their best friend! I guess it didn’t hurt that you were connected?’
His face darkened. ‘I’d like to think they contacted me because of my professional expertise, rather than the fact my father’s a senator.’
Abby flinched. Well, that was one way to dampen the sexual tension in the room. She should have known better. Luke’s relationship with his father was strained enough, without her insinuating that he’d been given an easy route into a prestigious position. She’d forgotten how much he prickled at the mere mention of his father. ‘I’m sure they did.’ She held open the nearby door, allowing some cool, fresh air into the claustrophobic changing room—just what they both needed—and resisting the temptation to look and see if the telltale bulge in his trousers was under control yet. ‘Are you ready? Let’s go and get you that four-shot coffee you wanted.’
‘Actually, I’m not strictly a four-shot drinker any more. I’ve mellowed.’
Abby choked in disbelief at the words. ‘You? Mellowed? Well, I never thought I’d see the day!’
He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘I might surprise you.’
He grabbed the door and fell into step beside her, his arm draping easily across her shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was.
She gave him a sideways smile. ‘Luke?’
‘Yeah?’
‘We’re going to have to have some rules about touching…’
