nodded. He imagined she was calculating the odds of having to see him at work. Flattering—not.
He cleared his throat. ‘So what’s a tourniquet test?’
‘You use the blood-pressure machine—’
‘Sphygmomanometer.’
‘Well, aren’t you clever, Dr Triage! Yes. Take your BP, keep the cuff blown up to halfway between the diastolic and systolic—the minimum and maximum pressure—wait a few minutes and check for petechiae—blood points in the skin.’
‘And do you have them? Um … it? Petechiae?’
‘Not enough. Less than ten per square inch.’
‘Is that … is that bad?’
‘It’s good, actually.’
‘Why?’
Audible sigh. ‘It means I have classic dengue—not haemorrhagic. As good as it gets when every bone and joint in your body is aching and your head feels like it might explode through your eyeballs.’
‘Is that how it feels?’
‘Yes.’
Silence.
Aaron racked his brain. ‘I thought you might want me to get a message to Tina.’
Her lips tightened. Which he took as a no.
‘That would be no,’ she confirmed.
A sheet covered the lower half of her body. She was wearing a red T-shirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by a rubber band. Her face was flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering it. And despite the distinct lack of glamour, despite the tightened lips and warning eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
‘Shouldn’t you keep the net closed?’ he asked, standing rigid beside the bed. Yep—just the sort of thing a man asked a nurse who specialised in tropical illnesses.
‘Happy to, if you want to talk to me through it. Or you can swat the mosquitoes before they get to me.’
‘Okay—I’ll swat.’
She regarded him suspiciously. ‘Why are you really here? To warn me I’ll be seeing you at the hospital?’
‘No, because it looks like you won’t be. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. See if you needed anything.’
‘Well, I’m all right, and I don’t need anything. So thank you for coming but …’ Her strength seemed to desert her then and she rolled flat onto her back in the bed, staring at the ceiling, saying nothing.
‘I heard it was your birthday. That night.’
An eye roll, but otherwise no answer.
He came a half-step closer. ‘If I’d known …’
Aaron mentally winced as she rolled her eyes again.
‘What would you have done?’ she asked. ‘Baked me a cake?’
‘Point taken.’
Trawling for a new topic of conversation, he picked up the photo from her bedside table. ‘Funny—you and Tina sound nothing alike, and you look nothing alike.’
Silence, and then, grudgingly, ‘I take after my father’s side of the family. Tina’s a genetic throwback.’ She smiled suddenly, and Aaron felt his breath jam in his throat. She really was gorgeous when she smiled like that, with her eyes as well as her mouth—even if it was aimed into space and not at him.
He gestured to the photo. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you for a Disneyland kind of girl.’
‘Who doesn’t like Disneyland? As long as you remember it’s not real, it’s a blast.’
Aaron looked at her, disturbed by the harshness in her voice. Did she have to practise that cynicism or did it come naturally?
Ella raised herself on her elbow again. ‘Look, forget Disneyland, and my birthday. I do need something from you. Only one thing.’ She fixed him with a gimlet eye. ‘Silence. You can’t talk about that night, or about me being sick. Don’t tell Tina. Don’t tell Brand. My life here has nothing to do with them. In fact, don’t talk to anyone about me.’
‘Someone should know you’ve got dengue fever.’
‘You know. That will have to do. But don’t worry, it won’t affect you unless I don’t make it. And my advice then would be to head for the hills and forget you were ever in Cambodia, because my mother will probably kill you.’ That glorious smile again—and, again, not directed at him, just at the thought. ‘She never did like a bearer of bad tidings—quite medieval.’
‘All the more reason to tell them now.’
Back to the eye roll. ‘Except she’s not really going to kill you and I’m not going to drop dead. Look …’ Ella seemed to be finding the right words. ‘They’ll worry, and I don’t want them worrying about something that can’t be changed.’
‘You shouldn’t be on your own when you’re ill.’
‘I’m not. I’m surrounded by experts. I feel like I’m in an episode of your TV show, there are so many medical personnel traipsing in and out of this room.’
Aaron looked down at her.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Ella said.
‘Like what?’ Aaron asked. But he was wincing internally because he kind of knew how he must be looking at her. And it was really inappropriate, given her state of health.
With an effort, she pushed herself back into a sitting position. ‘Let me make this easy for you, Aaron. I am not, ever, going to have sex with you.’
Yep, she’d pegged the look all right.
‘You have a child,’ she continued. ‘And a wife, ex-wife, whatever. And it’s very clear that your … encumbrances … are important to you. And that’s the way it should be. I understand it. I respect it. I even admire it. So let’s just leave it. I was interested for one night, and now I’m not. You were interested, but not enough. Moment officially over. You can take a nice clear conscience home to Sydney, along with the film.’
‘Ella—’
‘I don’t want to hear any more. And I really, truly, do not want to see you again. I don’t want—Look, I don’t want to get mixed up with a friend of my sister’s. Especially a man with a kid.’
Okay, sentiments Aaron agreed with wholeheartedly. So he should just leave it at that. Run—don’t walk—to the nearest exit. Good riddance. So he was kind of surprised to find his mouth opening and ‘What’s Kiri got to do with it?’ coming out of it.
‘It’s just a … a thing with children.
