Hot Single Docs: London's Calling
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He hadn’t felt this inspired—this happy in his work—since...well, since Abbie had left.
How had he not realised how much he’d missed this?
Because he had isolated himself emotionally from his work so effectively?
The way he’d isolated himself from his wife and daughter?
That was in the past. He’d learned his lesson. With the resolution that things were going to change from now on, Rafael didn’t dismiss the pleasure of having Abbie working beside him. Instead, he channelled it into making sure he did the best work he was capable of.
* * *
Talk about diving into the deep end.
Six hours later, Abbie all but staggered into the changing room where she’d stored her clothes in her old locker. The one beside Rafe’s.
She headed for the closest shower, which offered a private area that included a slatted wooden bench seat beneath a hook on which to hang her dry clothes. Having hung what she would change back into on the hook, however, Abbie didn’t immediately close the door or turn on the shower to let the water get hot. Instead, she sank down on the wooden seat and closed her eyes for a moment.
Everything ached. Her back and feet seemed to have totally forgotten their ability to stand in one spot for so long without major discomfort. She had cramp in her fingers from the fierce control she had exerted to make every one of the countless sutures she’d made as perfect as possible. Her eyes felt gritty, with a fatigue that was numbing her mind and making it impossible to think of anything but finding the energy to get up and turn on that shower.
And yet Abbie was smiling as she rolled her head in a slow circle, trying to get the painful kinks out of her neck.
How good had that been?
Challenging. Intense. But so satisfying. She hadn’t hidden her skills beneath a deep layer of rust like she’d feared. Even better, she and Rafael had worked together just as they always had. There’d even been at least one of those magic moments when that complete harmony had kicked in and it had felt like it was one surgeon who happened to have four hands.
Finally, Abbie found the strength to stand up and turn on the hot water. She knew it would take at least a minute to heat up, unless they’d made some big improvements in the plumbing while she’d been away, so she stood there waiting and tried rolling her head again because there was one particularly painful spot between her shoulder blades.
‘Sore neck?’
The query was accompanied by the metallic scrape of a locker door opening. Rafael must be feeling every bit as exhausted as she was. They’d both gone to Recovery with their small patient to watch over her as her level of consciousness lifted but Rafe had stayed longer, wanting to adjust the level of sedation they would keep her under.
Something stopped Abbie turning around. They had just spent a considerable period of time working so well together. Was it that she didn’t want to spoil that by finding that he was avoiding eye contact, perhaps? Or that she might see resentment that would confirm he’d only sent for her because Leo and Ethan had hauled them over the coals about not working together?
She put her hand under the stream of water to check the temperature and to excuse her not turning around. ‘How’s Lucy doing?’
‘Very well. When I’ve had a quick shower, I’ll find her grandmother and take her to visit Lucy in Recovery.’
His voice was getting louder with every word. Good grief, had he stepped into this shower cubicle with her? Abbie tensed, ready to turn, but then froze. Apart from the sound of the running water, there was an odd stillness. Maybe Rafe had just gone past the open door to get a towel or something. She might turn and he would be nowhere to be seen and even in the split second when she imagined that possibility, she could also feel the thud of disappointment it would create. But, even as that flitted through her brain, she felt the touch of his hands on her shoulders. His thumbs digging into her spine as they made small circles over her knotted muscles. He knew exactly where that sharp ache tended to settle, didn’t he?
‘Oh...’ Abbie let her head droop. ‘That feels amazing...’
It was by no means the first time she’d been treated to a neck massage after a tough stint in Theatre so it was no surprise he could do it so well. It was, however, the last thing Abbie had expected right now.
What was happening here? The magic she’d wanted when she’d first seen Rafael again and had imagined an embrace that could wipe all out all the grief they’d given each other?
Certainly the sensations Rafael’s fingers were conjuring up were enough to wipe out rational thought. Like worrying about any hot water that was being wasted. Tendrils of a pleasure-pain mix were shooting down her spine and arcing right through her body.
But it was just a neck massage. If they hadn’t happened to be standing in a shower cubicle it was something that could be perfectly acceptable between any colleagues who were friends and understood the aftermath of the physical challenge they’d just shared. If she started thinking it was intended to be intimate she could well be lining herself up for disappointment.
‘Thanks.’ Abbie’s movement was subtle but the touch of Rafael’s hand vanished instantly. She could feel him taking a step back even as she turned her head to smile at him.
‘We did it,’ she said.
‘Indeed.’ Rafael had one hand on the door. He raised his other hand to rub his own neck. ‘I’m sure Ethan and Leo will be delighted to hear how well we managed to work together.’
Oh, yes...that disappointment had only been waiting to hit Abbie hard enough to make her lose her emotional footing.
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ she muttered.
Rafael leaned closer to hear her. Was it intentional that the movement pushed the door closed behind him? ‘What did you mean?’
‘That we put Lucy back together. I...I think she’s going to get a good result.’ Sudden, unwelcome tears stung the back of her eyes. Abbie turned them towards the shower so that Rafael wouldn’t see. There was steam billowing out over the top of the curtain now. At least she’d be able to have a good cry when she was under that stream of water. She needed Rafe to go away. Now.
But he didn’t. ‘We certainly did,’ he said. ‘And what’s more, you probably saved her hand, Abbie. Well done, you.’
The praise was sweet. So sweet that Abbie couldn’t hold back the tears now. She had to swipe at them with her hand.
‘Oh...Abbie...cara...’
Rafe was turning her to face him. Tilting her face up with gentle pressure under her chin. The warmth of the steam around them had nothing on what was sparking between them and had it dampened the oxygen level as well? Abbie’s lips parted as she tried to find a new breath.
The caring tone of the endearment Rafael had used still hung between them and it made the flicker of desire in his eyes totally irresistible. Abbie couldn’t look away. Her fatigue was forgotten as her body strained towards his, her mind willing him to touch her. To kiss her.
She had no idea who moved first, and what did it matter?
This was no gentle reunion kind of kiss. It was how Abbie had dreamed it might be. An incandescent moment that would burn everything else into oblivion. A leap straight back into the fierce passion they had discovered the first time they’d touched each other. A passion that had only grown more powerful the more they’d learned about each other’s bodies.
He knew exactly what took her over the edge. The slide of his tongue against the inside of her lip and the way it tangled with the very tip of hers. The slide of his hands inside her clothing and the way those strong hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her against that hardness she knew so well. Wanted so badly...
But somehow it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was becoming aware of the splash of water beside them and remembering where they were and how inappropriate this was.
Or...maybe it was something much bigger than that.
In the same way that she had seen the massage as being nothing more than a physical action, a part of Abbie’s brain could see that this was only sex.
Passionate, exciting, mind-blowing sex certainly. The kind that had sealed their initial relationship and had led to Ella’s conception and had had them rushing headlong into marriage and a lifetime commitment, in fact. A kind that had been enough to keep them sane during the terrible times they’d been through in the course of Ella’s illness but, at the end of the day, it was just that. Sex.
And perhaps that wasn’t enough any more and that was what didn’t feel right.
It was Abbie whose hands stopped moving and touching. Whose lips stilled. Who wriggled free of the intimate contact of their lower bodies.
‘We can’t do this,’ she gasped.
Rafael’s gaze slid towards the shower and he sighed. ‘Come home with me, then.’
‘No.’ Abbie shook her head. ‘I don’t just mean we can’t do it here.’
There was bewilderment in his gaze now. He had no idea why Abbie had pulled away.
‘Can’t you see? It’s not going to solve anything, Rafe.’
He still didn’t understand. And he didn’t believe her. He thought he was being rejected and at the flicker of pain—anger, even—Abbie’s heart sank. She was doing it again, wasn’t she? Attacking his pride. The surest route to strengthening the barrier between them instead of starting to dismantle it.
But she could also see the internal struggle going on. The effort he was making.
His voice was raw. ‘Then what is going to solve it, Abbie? Tell me.’
There was nothing Abbie wanted more than to tell him.
If only she knew.
Rafael waited for a heartbeat. And then another. And then, muttering something in Italian that was probably a curse, he turned and left.
A second later, Abbie heard the bang of a locker door. And then the thump of the changing-room doors being pushed open. Rafael was going somewhere else to shower and who could blame him?
What had she done?
Blown the best chance she could have had to reconnect with the man she loved?
The fatigue came back in a wave that made it unbelievably hard to get on with what she had to do. The feel of her own hands on her skin as she pulled off the scrubs only reminded Abbie of the touch of Rafael’s hands and made her feel worse.
What had she been thinking?
* * *
There was very little traffic around at this time of day, which was just as well because Rafael wasn’t paying much attention as he gunned his car in the direction of the only safe place he could think of. His home.
Abbie didn’t want him.
Her body did, that much had been obvious, but her heart didn’t and that was what mattered.
How the hell could he let her know how much he still loved her if he wasn’t allowed to touch her? To let his body say the things that were too hard to put into words?
She was being unfair. Shutting them both out of the one area of their relationship they’d never had any problems with. Making sure the spotlight was shining onto the battleground that the rest of their relationship had become.
Why?
The slap of his open hand on the steering-wheel was hard enough to be painful but it didn’t shut up the annoying voice in the back of his head. Beneath the burning frustration and the simmering anger it was still there—the faint but insistent message that suggested Abbie was right. That reconnecting sexually would only push the destructive differences under a carpet. That it wouldn’t solve anything.
But she couldn’t even tell him what would.
The way he slammed the car door shut probably woke up several neighbours but Rafael didn’t care.
Maybe neither of them knew.
Because the solution didn’t exist.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘MUM-MUM-MUM...’
Ella was standing in her cot and she flung her arms into the air when her mother entered the room.
‘Hey, baby girl...’ Abbie reached into the cot and gathered Ella into her arms, careful as always not to tangle the IV line. ‘How are you? I’ve hardly seen you all day and I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Mum-mum-mum...’ Ella’s tiny hands were busy, touching Abbie’s hair and then her face. And then she rubbed her nose on Abbie’s collarbone and made a grizzling sound. Abbie’s gaze flew to Melanie, the nurse who was moving to straighten the cot.
‘She’s just hungry. I was waiting to give her her bottle in case you made it back in time. I’ll go and heat it up now.’
‘Thanks, Mel. So she’s been okay today?’
‘Good as gold. They had a good chat about her on ward rounds. Everybody’s very excited about her being such a success story. I think there’s a bit of competition over who’s going to write up the case history and get it published in a journal.’
‘They might have to compete with the guys in New York for that.’
Melanie smiled. ‘I’m staying out of it. Bottom line was they only came in to brighten their day, I think. Nothing like a wee miracle like our Ella to make everybody feel better about life in general and work in particular.’
‘Mmm.’ Abbie cuddled her daughter, rocking her gently. Ella had put her thumb into her mouth and the vigorous sucking noises made both women smile.
‘She’s starving.’ Melanie had picked up the huge teddy bear taking up half the cot, obviously planning to move it out of the way for the night.
The thumb came out of Ella’s mouth with a popping noise. ‘No-o-o-o...’
Abbie could feel the small body tensing in her arms. Small lungs expanding to let rip with an uncharacteristic wail.
‘Don’t take it away,’ she told Melanie. ‘She’s in love.’
‘But it’s so massive. It takes up most of the cot.’
Abbie’s smile was rueful. ‘It’s pink. And it sparkles. And it was a present from Daddy.’
A somewhat loaded silence fell as Melanie put the tutu-clad bear back into the cot.
‘Has...has Rafe been in today?’
‘Twice.’ Melanie nodded. ‘You were visiting Lucy the first time and he was here for a bit this afternoon when you were in Theatre. He asked what time she got her bedtime bottle and said he’d try and get back.’ She chewed her lip and the glance at Abbie suggested there was something she was debating whether to say.
Abbie could guess what it was. Rafael wanted to be the one to give Ella her bottle and put her to bed.
And that was something she wasn’t prepared to give up.
Melanie said nothing as she went away to heat the bottle. Abbie settled herself in the armchair with Ella, trying to ignore the prickle of guilt at her determination not to willingly share the next half hour or so of her life. When Melanie returned Abbie asked the nurse to dim the lights in the room and then suggested that she take a break. She’d call if she needed any assistance getting Ella tucked up for the night later.
Bliss. Abbie adjusted the tilt of the bottle as Ella clutched it with both hands and smiled as her daughter relaxed into her sucking and lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s. The pure joy of that eye contact with her precious baby as she sucked on the only bottle she had now was the highlight of her day. Just as good as the early days when she’d been able to breastfeed Ella. It was a time when the love she had for this little person was the only thing that mattered and it was huge enough to push everything else to one side.
During the dark days of being alone with such a sick child, it had been the one thing that had kept Abbie sane and offered hope. On the worst nights, it had only been cuddling her to sleep and now that she was well enough to enjoy her warm milk, the hope was even stronger and this time together something to look forward to even more.
It was their time. Surely a reward that she had earned?
Her breath escaped in a long, contented sigh as Ella’s eyes flickered shut and then snapped open again in determination to stay awake. She wasn’t the only one who treasured this time together. She wished she’d been there for the consultants’ ward round today but she could imagine the looks and smiles that had been exchanged. Being with Ella did brighten everyone’s day. The heaviness around her own heart was finally lifting, too.
The bottle was almost finished and the dead weight of the baby in her arms suggested that sleep had arrived when the door opened softly. Had the sudden tension of seeing Rafael transferred itself to Ella? The baby stirred and whimpered but then settled again, her mouth now slack around the teat of the bottle.
‘Ohh...’ Rafael quietly shifted the small upright chair and seated himself by Ella’s head. ‘I’m too late.’
‘She was hungry.’ The prickle of guilt came back again and this time it was intensified by the emotional turmoil Abbie had been in ever since she’d rejected Rafael sexually in the changing room yesterday. ‘Would you like to hold her for a bit before she goes to bed?’
The question was clearly redundant. Big hands slid over her arms and beneath Ella to transfer the weight. Again, Ella stirred and whimpered but soft Italian words of love soothed her within seconds and then Rafael just sat, his head bowed over his daughter, his arms cradling her as if she were the most precious thing on earth.
Abbie was caught. Half lying in the reclining chair, it would take a huge effort to get up and leave father and daughter alone and it would only disturb the moment. Or maybe that was just an excuse. Maybe what had really captured her was the acute awareness of this man beside her.
The...longing.
He must have come straight from a shower because his dark curls were damp and she could actually feel the warmth coming from his skin. Could smell the fresh scent of soap and maleness. Abbie’s gaze was locked on Rafael’s hands as he held Ella. Such strong hands with those long, long fingers and the dusting of dark hair on the top. It had been his hands that had first stirred her attraction to him, hadn’t it? When he’d been waving them in the air to illustrate something he had been telling her about a case. Or had it been his eyes? The way they could hold her like a physical caress?
What would happen if she reached out and touched one of those hands now? If, when he looked up at her, she gave him the silent message that she’d been wrong. That being together again in the most intimate way possible could be the answer to dissolving the barrier between them?
It had always worked in the past to solve an argument, hadn’t it?
‘Do you remember the couch?’ The soft words seemed to come from nowhere and Abbie was as surprised as Rafael as his head jerked up.
‘Scusi?’
‘The couch. The white one.’
The supremely comfortable, feather-stuffed, totally impractical and ridiculously expensive white couch. It had been the week before their wedding and they’d been out shopping for furniture in the euphoria that had followed a successful offer on their new apartment. The same euphoria that had made them view Abbie’s unexpected pregnancy as nothing more than a sign that they were meant to be together. For ever.
‘Of course I remember. I sit on it every day.’
‘Do you remember what happened when we found it in the shop?’
Rafael seemed to be ignoring her. He rocked Ella and pressed a gentle kiss to her head. And then he sighed and gave one of those eloquent shrugs.
‘So it was our first fight. What of it? What is the point of remembering it now?
‘Because...’
Because it was important, even though Abbie wasn’t quite sure why.
‘Do you remember what you told me? About your parents? About them never arguing?’
‘It was true. They didn’t.’
‘Because your mother did whatever your father ordered to keep the peace. You said it was the Italian way and the husband was the head of the household and his word was law and arguing was a sign of disrespect. And I said it was the Victorian way and it wasn’t going to work for us because I deserved just as much respect, and if it dented your Italian pride then you’d have to suck it up and get over it.’
A snort escaped Rafael. ‘I remember. How could I forget?’
‘And what did you do then?’
Something rueful tugged at one corner of his mouth. ‘I gave you an order.’
‘Mmm.’
He had ‘ordered’ her into bed. It had been a joke, accompanied by a kiss that had demonstrated the kind of passion Abbie knew would take her straight to paradise. The argument about the couch had suddenly become irrelevant and Rafael’s pride had been soothed.
And they’d bought the damned couch. A week after it had been installed in the apartment Rafael had spilt a glass of red wine on it and the ugly stain was irreparable. Abbie had gone out and purchased a large, blue throw to cover it. A throw in the colour of the couch she had wanted to buy in the first place.
‘It was a couch,’ Rafael growled. ‘A stupid piece of furniture. We could buy another one tomorrow if it mattered.’
‘It’s not the couch that matters.’
Abbie suddenly realised why she’d dredged up such an ancient disagreement. The reason they’d fought in the first place had just been a practice run for the fight they would have over Ella’s treatment. Rafael’s pride getting in the way of any kind of compromise had led to the awful ultimatum about the future of their marriage. ‘It’s the way we resolved the fight we had about the couch.’
Rafael’s glare told Abbie just how much she had hurt him yesterday. But there was something else there, too. Confusion? That was understandable.
‘The stain’s still there, Rafe,’ Abbie said softly. ‘It just got covered up.’
He shook his head and muttered something incomprehensible in Italian.
‘The reason we fought is still there, too. We never talked about it again, did we? We never tried to resolve anything by talking about it. We just...went to bed.’
‘And it worked,’ Rafael said fiercely. ‘It was where we could show each other how much we loved each other.’
‘It didn’t work when it was really important. When it was about Ella.’
Rafael was silent. He looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms. Abbie could only watch and wait. And hope, desperately, that she had managed to convey at least a part of how important this seemed to her.
But maybe she hadn’t.
‘It’s time Fiorella was in her bed.’ Rafael stood up, careful not to disturb Ella. He carried her to the cot and put her down, checking that her IV line and the pump attached to it was still intact and functioning. He tucked Ears in the crook of one arm and then drew the blanket over the small body. Then he reached to pick up the oversized bear at the foot of the cot.
‘Don’t take it out,’ Abbie said. ‘She’ll cry if it’s not there when she wakes up.’
Rafael looked over at her, his eyebrows raised.
‘She adores it. Especially the sparkles.’
Abbie smiled. Rafael smiled back at her.
‘Thank you,’ she said then.
‘What for?’
‘Talking to me.’ If nothing else, Abbie was beginning to see what the real barrier between them was. It had been there all along, hadn’t it? They just hadn’t paid any attention to it until it had been too late.
She saw Rafael taking a slow, inward breath. He held her gaze. ‘Maybe,’ he said slowly, ‘we should talk some more.’ A corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Instead of going to bed?’
Abbie tried to smile but her lips wobbled. ‘I’d like that.’
Rafael stepped closer. ‘I could take you out. For dinner...or a coffee. We...we could go to that place you love in the park. The...what’s it called? The Moo Cow?’
They’d been around a baby for long enough to change the way they thought and spoke, hadn’t they? Abbie smiled again. ‘The Cow and Coffee Bean.’
In Regent’s Park. The buffer between their home and the clinic, it had always been perfect as an escape for some exercise and fresh air.
‘Like...like a date?’
He inclined his head. ‘Si. Like a date.’
Like starting again, even? Maybe this was exactly what they needed. Swept along in the whirlwind of passion that had defined their early relationship and both so committed to their careers, had they ever stayed out of bed long enough when they’d been together to really get to know each other?