Hot Single Docs: London's Calling: 200 Harley Street: The Proud Italian / 200 Harley Street: American Surgeon in London / 200 Harley Street: The Soldier Prince
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‘There’s another protein,’ Abbie told him. ‘I’ll have to look up what it is for you but it’s the same one that’s involved with rheumatoid arthritis. Anyway, the levels got very elevated because of the new T cells and Ella became critically ill. She was in the intensive-care unit for weeks.’
Edward looked like he was making a mental note to investigate the unnamed protein himself. ‘What did they use to treat her?’
‘The same drugs they use for rheumatoid. With quite dramatic results. Her fever and temperature dropped rapidly and she was taken off the ventilator much sooner than any of us had hoped for.’
The atmosphere became even more strained. Edward looked vaguely appalled, as if how dangerous the treatment had been hadn’t occurred to him when he’d suggested it.
‘It did work in the end,’ Abbie said. ‘We wouldn’t have even known about it if it hadn’t been for you. And we couldn’t be more grateful.’
We.
They were both looking at him now. It was Rafael’s turn to clear his throat. He tilted his head in acknowledgement of his own gratitude. Of course he was grateful for Ella’s state of health but he still had the damage to his marriage undermining his happiness. Was it any wonder it was hard to make amends with Edward?
‘Thank you,’ he said aloud, finally. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t said so before.’
The apology seemed to be accepted but a new silence fell now and everybody was clearly trying to think of a way to break it. It was Abbie who turned her head and seemed to be looking for someone.
‘They’re taking a long time, aren’t they?’
‘Who?’ Edward looked puzzled.
‘Leo and Lizzie. I know they went for photographs but that was ages ago. They should be back by now. Look at all the new arrivals. The breakfast must be due to start.’
‘Oh...didn’t you hear? There was a helicopter waiting for them. Leo whisked Lizzie off to go and visit her parents in Brighton.’
‘Good grief... Really?’
Edward nodded and then shook his head, looking bemused. ‘I’d heard they were too sick to come to the wedding but it does seem a little over the top, doesn’t it?’
Abbie’s smile was tight. ‘He loves her. And what a lovely thought, to let them see their daughter in her beautiful dress.’
It seemed that Abbie was uncomfortable talking about the generous gesture. Defensive even. Did a man have to do something a little outrageous to prove how much he loved his bride?
Had he not done enough?
But the low-key service in the registry office hadn’t been intended to be the only acknowledgement of their marriage, had it? Rafael had had all sorts of plans for a second wedding and honeymoon in Italy that would have been far more meaningful than a showy helicopter ride. If only Ella hadn’t become sick so quickly...
If only...
Edward was looking around, clearly disinterested in discussing the bride’s dress. Someone nodded at him and he moved away, looking somewhat relieved. Mitchell Cooper, the American plastic surgeon, and Declan Underwood, another plastic surgeon, who seemed to be here without dates but enjoying themselves, came past Rafael and Abbie, heading for the bar, and Mitchell winked.
‘The game is to pick which of the guests has been a former client of the Hunter Clinic,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve spotted at least two.’
‘And I’ve spotted the guests of honour returning,’ Abbie said. ‘I’m going to see if I can find where our table is.’
There was no chance of being alone with Abbie for quite some time, Rafael realised. Watching her disappear into the throng of guests, he had to wonder if she would even want that.
That moment of connection with Abbie during the wedding ceremony that had led to them holding hands was well and truly gone now. The conversation with Edward had been a sobering reminder of how far they still had to go. He followed Mitchell towards the bar. His American colleague was probably searching for a Scotch instead of champagne and Rafael had a sudden desire for something a bit stronger himself.
* * *
The group of men at the bar was drawing the attention of every woman in attendance, including those who’d come with partners. And no wonder. Abbie watched them as they raised what looked like glasses of Scotch to toast each other. The dress suits they were all wearing made most men look more attractive but these were already exceptionally good-looking guys.
And Rafael was the best looking of the bunch, as far as she was concerned. His curly dark hair was a little too long, and his features a little sharper than some, but even from a distance she could feel the pull of his Italian passion, the warmth of the fire she knew ran in his blood.
Perhaps she had been too harsh in her reaction to that ultimatum he’d delivered when he’d been so frustrated at not being listened to. Maybe if she understood more about his heritage and the way his male Italian brain worked, she could learn to sort the wheat from the chaff and they could work through their differences, instead of pushing each other away.
Rafael was trying to understand how her brain worked. That had been obvious from his line of questioning during Annabelle’s surgery. What could she do to let him know that she was just as willing to make an effort?
Ethan had joined the other men at the bar and he downed a shot of spirits as though it was some kind of medicine. There were certainly undercurrents here for people other than Rafael and herself.
With a sigh, Abbie slipped into her allocated seat at one of the small tables. The chairs had been cleared from the chequerboard marble floor now and no doubt there would be dancing later. After the food and the speeches. Watching Ethan accept another drink from the bar staff, she had to hope that it wouldn’t affect his ability to give the speech he was expected to make as best man.
There were choices to be made about the food as the courses came round, which Abbie found very difficult. Not because everything didn’t sound absolutely delicious but her appetite seemed to have deserted her. She had to make an effort, though.
‘I think I’ll have the roast Portland scallops with the fresh pea velouté,’ she decided. ‘Whatever a velouté is.’
‘I believe it’s a French word.’ Edward was sharing the table that had been allocated to the de Lucas. ‘It means velvet. It’s a sauce. Usually a white sauce, but I expect this one might be green.’
Abbie’s lips twitched as she caught the twinkle in Edward’s otherwise deadpan expression. There was more to this man than people appreciated, wasn’t there?
‘I’m going to have the Cornish lobster with hand-cut chips,’ Rafael decided, when it came to the main course. ‘Or perhaps the Aberdeen Angus filet steak with beetroot.’
Except he didn’t seem to have any more of an appetite than Abbie did. There was just as much left on his plate as hers when it came time to be cleared away.
The dessert that Abbie chose was to die for. A chocolate fondant with a delectably oozy centre that came with a peach compote and a mascarpone sorbet. The speeches started before she’d taken more than a taste, however, and Abbie stopped and held her breath.
What would Ethan say?
He didn’t seem to be showing any effect from the shots of Scotch he’d been throwing back, but then, his speech was so short it was hard to tell. He said something very complimentary about Lizzie and he wished the couple every happiness and that was it. Except that he finished by thanking his brother, saying that he appreciated the way Leo had always looked out for him.
As dessert plates were cleared away, Leo and Lizzie moved through the tables, stopping to talk to as many people as they could before they started the next part of the evening with their first dance. It was Leo who came to the table where Rafael and Abbie were now sitting alone. Edward had gone to talk to Declan.
‘Thanks for coming.’ Leo smiled. ‘I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves.’
‘It’s a beautiful wedding,’ Abbie said. ‘Lizzie looks stunning.’
‘Great speeches, too.’ Rafael grinned. ‘Short. If we were in Italy they’d go on till midnight and nobody would get a chance to dance.’
Abbie hoped the length of the best man’s speech hadn’t been due to the lingering tension between the brothers. ‘It was a nice thing that he said,’ she offered. ‘About you always looking out for him. You must have been an awesome big brother to have.’
Leo’s smile looked wry. ‘Whether he wanted it or not,’ he murmured. ‘It wasn’t always appreciated.’
Abbie raised her eyebrows but Leo didn’t get a chance to answer the silent query. A dramatically glamorous woman, dripping in diamonds, was sailing towards him as gracefully as only an aging prima ballerina could.
‘Leo...darling... You must come with me. Tony and I are dying to talk to you.’ With her arm firmly linked with his, Leo was hustled away.
Abbie had to smile. There would be no prizes for picking her as one of the clinic clients who’d scored an invitation. Everybody knew about Francesca, who had to be in her early seventies now, and had had her first plastic surgeries with Leo and Ethan’s father, James.
And that thought led her back to Leo’s cryptic comment. She turned to Rafael.
‘Whether he wanted it or not? And it wasn’t always appreciated? I wonder what that was about?’
Rafael shrugged. ‘I’ve heard the father was a complete bastard. I suspect being the big brother made life pretty tough for Leo.’
‘He looks happy now.’
‘He just got married to a beautiful woman. Of course he’s happy.’
‘Where’s Ethan?’
‘I saw him heading for the restroom a while back.’
‘So did I.’ Abbie frowned. ‘Was it my imagination or was he limping more than usual?’
Rafael mirrored her frown. ‘Maybe I should go and check that he’s all right.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
They slipped out of the crowd unnoticed because the music had started and Leo was leading Lizzie onto the dance floor.
They found Ethan in a hallway near the restrooms. Leaning against the wall, with his eyes closed, he didn’t see them approach.
‘Are you okay?’ It was Abbie who asked.
Ethan’s eyes snapped open. ‘I’m fine,’ he said.
He didn’t look fine. There were deep lines around his eyes and his skin looked slightly grey. He looked like a man who was dealing with something physically painful.
‘Great speech,’ Rafael said. ‘Well done.’
Ethan gave a noncommittal grunt. ‘I didn’t say much.’
‘Sometimes it doesn’t need much,’ Abbie said. ‘It just needs the right words.’
That brought the ghost of a smile to Ethan’s face. ‘What are you two doing out here, anyway?’ he asked. ‘You should be in there, having a good time.’ His smile twisted a little. ‘Or at least finding the right words.’ He pushed himself off the wall and headed back towards the ballroom. ‘I’m going to find another Scotch.’
Abbie and Rafael looked at each other.
‘Shall we go back?’ Rafael asked. ‘Would you like to dance?’
Abbie shook her head. ‘I think I might have had enough of so many glamorous people. And I’ve certainly had enough champagne.’
Rafael’s face emptied of expression. Was he waiting for her to say that she needed to get back to the hospital? To Ella?
‘You know what I’d really like to do right now?’
‘No. What?’
Abbie reached out and took his hand. Her heart skipped a beat. This was how she could show Rafael how much she wanted to try and fix things.
‘I’d like to go home,’ she whispered. ‘With you.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
STEPPING THROUGH THE door of the apartment in Gloucester Avenue was a bit like sitting with Rafael and waiting for Leo and Lizzie’s wedding to begin.
Stepping back in time.
They’d been so excited when they’d found this place. It was perfect. A period conversion that had retained all the character of its origins but had been modernised enough to make it a joy to live in. Tall windows let in lots of light and the polished floorboards made it feel warm and homely. The kitchen and bathrooms had everything they could have wished for. There was central heating and the private garden was walled in and safe for young children. The location was ideal, pretty much halfway between the two places they both worked in—the Hunter Clinic and the Lighthouse Children’s Hospital. Best of all, they had Regent’s Park and all it had to offer within a few minutes’ walk.
It was no surprise that their offer on the apartment was accepted because it was meant to be. So much in love, life just couldn’t get any better. The stars were aligned and their perfect future together was just getting started.
So very, very different to the way things were now.
The furniture was all the same, right down to that controversial couch with its big blue throw, but the atmosphere was weird. Empty feeling. There was no excitement about the future lurking in any corners. This felt...awkward.
‘There’s wine in the fridge.’ Rafael was turning on the gas fire to add to the background warmth of the central heating. Did he, too, feel the odd chill of the joy that had gone from these rooms? ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘No.’ Abbie took off her coat and draped it over one arm of the couch, dropping her handbag beside it. ‘I had more than enough champagne at the reception. But you get something if you want to.’
‘Maybe later.’ Rafael stood with his back to the fire. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling.
It had been Abbie’s suggestion to come home with him but now that they were here together for the first time in so many months she wasn’t sure that it had been the best idea. What was she going to do now? Throw herself into his arms?
No. That would feel as unnatural as standing here feeling like a stranger in her own home.
Rafael was still staring at her. ‘Would you rather go back to the hospital? Are you worried about Ella?’
‘No.’ Abbie shook her head quickly. ‘I know she’ll be fine. She won’t even wake up until morning. And they’d ring me, anyway, if there was a problem. Oh...’ She reached for the handbag she’d discarded. ‘I forgot that I’d turned my phone off for the wedding ceremony. I’d better switch it back on.’
‘I haven’t had a call,’ Rafael said. ‘I had my phone on silent. I never switch it off completely, just in case there’s an emergency with a patient. If they hadn’t been able to reach you, I’m sure they would have contacted me.’
‘Of course.’ But Abbie turned her phone on anyway and watched the spinning circle on the screen as it booted up. She put it down as she realised that her diverted attention was only making it feel more awkward for Rafael but almost as soon as the device was out of her hands it sounded a message alert.
Her gaze snagged on Rafael’s and held there for a heartbeat. And then he turned away with a flash of something like defeat washing over his face.
She had given him hope, hadn’t she, saying that she wanted to go home with him? Now it seemed like Ella was about to come between them again.
‘It’s probably just Melanie telling me that everything’s fine.’
But she had to look.
And it wasn’t about Ella at all.
Another heartbeat and all Abbie could do was close her eyes tightly as she clutched the phone against her chest with both hands.
* * *
Dio...
What the hell had been in that message?
Something devastating, by the look of her. Rafael was in front of Abbie in only a couple of steps. He gripped her arms.
‘Che cosa? What has happened?’
Abbie struggled to take an inward breath. ‘It’s not about Ella,’ she whispered.
‘Then what? What has made you look like this? Tell me...’
‘It’s...it’s...Toby.’
Rafael felt his heart stop for a split second and then thump painfully back into action. Who the hell was Toby? Had Abbie met someone else?’
‘Toby?’ His voice felt raw. ‘He’s someone in New York?’
Abbie nodded mutely. Her eyes were still tightly shut and she was clearly on the verge of tears.
Maybe it didn’t matter who this Toby was. What mattered was that he could feel Abbie shaking under his hands. She needed support. Comfort.
Love...
He pulled Abbie right into the circle of his arms and held her against his heart. He didn’t say anything because he had no idea what he could say. And he didn’t need to say anything anyway because moments later words began to spill out of Abbie between wrenching sobs.
‘He was only five...and he was such a brave little boy... He was getting the same treatment as Ella and his mum and I became good friends. Shelley was crying when we left...she said she’d miss us both so much but...but knowing that Ella had made it through was giving her strength...the suffering that poor little Toby was going through would all be worth it in the end because...because one day soon she’d be able to take him home to his daddy...the way...the way I was taking Ella home...to you...’
The words got strangled by the heartbroken sobs for some time after that. Rafael simply held Abbie and rocked her gently until the grief subsided. Clearly this little boy hadn’t survived the treatment.
It could so easily have been Ella.
Rafael’s throat tightened and he could feel an odd prickling sensation at the back of his eyes.
Tears?
No. Not possible. He hadn’t cried since he’d been a very small boy. A man’s pride didn’t allow the showing of such weakness. He needed a distraction but there was none to be had at this moment. No work to be done. He couldn’t even pick up a journal article and lose himself in that for a while. And then Abbie made it even worse.
‘It could have been Ella,’ she choked out, echoing his own terrible thought. ‘I could have put her through all that suffering for nothing. Shelley must be feeling so awful.’
‘She’ll know that she tried everything she could to keep her little one alive. That it was the right thing to do.’
But Abbie was shaking her head as she tried to pull away from him. Rafael loosened his hold but still kept her within the circle of his arms.
‘I just didn’t think. I couldn’t see your point of view at all. Ella could have died, just like Toby, and all that suffering would have been pointless and...and, worse...we would have been half a world away from you. You would never have been able to hold Ella again. It was wrong, Rafael...’ Tears were streaming down Abbie’s face. ‘I’m sorry.’
Strangely, any threat of his own tears had evaporated. Rafael felt strong. He brushed tears from Abbie’s face.
‘Si, it could have been Ella but it wasn’t so I was wrong, too. We were both wrong. Isn’t it time that we forgave each other?’
Abbie was nodding. Her sob became a hiccup and, instead of pushing out against the circle of his arms, she moved closer, lifting her own arms to wrap them around his neck.
This embrace wasn’t about offering comfort or support. This was a new closeness. An affirmation of forgiveness.
It was Rafael who pulled back this time. So that he could cup Abbie’s face with his hands as he kissed her forehead and then her closed eyelids. Slowly. Softly.
He felt her eyes open as he finished the third kiss. And then they were looking at each other, the way they had when Leo and Lizzie had been kissing at the end of their wedding ceremony and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss his own wife at that point.
Just like it did now.
* * *
Oh...God...
This was what she had been aching for. The tenderness of those gentle kisses in the wake of an emotional storm that had washed away anything irrelevant.
Was this what forgiveness felt like?
If so, it was incredibly sweet.
Healing.
And then Abbie became aware of more than the calm after the storm. She could feel the softness of Rafael’s lips as they pressed so gently on her eyelids. She could feel the strength in his hands as he cradled her face. She had to open her eyes then and when she did, all she could see in his eyes was the caring.
The love.
She could feel herself rising to stand on tiptoe. To meet his lips with her own. They were so close right now. Closer than they’d been for a long time. Maybe closer than they’d ever been emotionally.
But it wasn’t close enough.
Abbie wanted more. She wanted them to be skin to skin. To have Rafael touching her in a way that would affirm life, rather than provide comfort in the face of death.
‘Take me to bed, Rafe,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’
Without a word, Rafael scooped her up into his arms and strode through the apartment without pausing to turn on any more lights. Their bedroom had French doors that opened into the private garden and there were lights beyond that. Enough to take the edge off the darkness in the room. And Abbie didn’t need more than that. Her other senses were more than enough.
She could hear the slide of fabric as Rafael peeled off his shirt, the thump of shoes being heeled off and the scratch of the zip as he got rid of his trousers. She could feel her own fingers shaking as she tried to undo the fastenings of her dress and she could hear the catch of her breath that was almost a gasp as Rafael’s hands closed over hers and took over the task.
It was colder in here, away from the fire. Rafael pulled the duvet from the bed and draped it over Abbie’s shoulders as she sat there while he took off her shoes and tights. And then he somehow wrapped them both in the fluffy, light down of the cover and they were lying on the bed with Rafael half over her and he was holding her face again as he kissed her.
A kiss that started as gently as the one during the wedding service. There was almost wonder in it. He was treating her as something fragile and precious. But Abbie was kissing him back now. She knew the first slide of her tongue against his would ignite the same kind of passion that had been unleashed with that kiss in the changing room and that was what she needed. She pushed closer with her hips, too, to feel more of his body as she opened her mouth to him and deepened the kiss.
A rough sound came from deep within Rafael’s chest and his hands were moving now. Swiftly tracing the outline of her body. Pausing to shape her breasts and bring her nipples to painful hardness, and then they were moving lower. Sliding over her hips and touching her exactly where it ached most.
It was Abbie’s turn to cry out incoherently. She didn’t want slow and tender. Not this time. She pushed against his hand and used her hand to reach for the hardness she knew she would find without breaking the rhythm as their tongues danced and passion spiralled to bright flames.
Rafael changed his position with the smoothness that could only come from the confidence of knowing someone so intimately. Her body welcomed him as if it had only been yesterday they had last made love and they were in total accord about the pace of this fiercely passionate coupling. They both knew it would be over too soon. But they also both knew that it would be very different next time. This was a release of tension that had become pent up enough to be destructive all by itself. And it was a statement, too. An underscoring of the forgiveness perhaps.
Whatever emotional currents ran beneath the physical communication, the hard, fast sex left a curiously calm aftermath. It took some time for their heart rates to drop and for both of them to catch their breath enough to be able to talk. Abbie was content to lie there in Rafael’s arms, their heads on the same pillow and their noses almost touching.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve missed this.’
Rafael only had to tilt his face up a little to kiss the tip of her nose. And then her lips. The sound he made was one of absolute agreement.
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