across at her, and it changed him into a much younger man, a less world-weary one, and for a moment her knees trembled and she was pathetically grateful she was lying and not standing because she might have collapsed, boneless, on top of him.
Then he looked away and she managed to draw a discreet steadying breath and edge an inch further away from him.
He wasn’t having that. He lifted his shoulder and slid across the bed until their shoulders were touching, and then slid his arm under and around her shoulders. Ben’s hand was cool against her but insidiously heat rose up her body like black ink soaking into white chalk.
And once there the heat wasn’t going anywhere. It just got warmer and warmer.
‘So where have you driven from today and where are you going?’
Misty tried to focus on what he’d said. Anything to move her mind away from the slow combustion going on inside her.
Focus on the real world. That’s a novel idea, she mocked herself, and organised her thoughts to where they should be.
‘I’m moving to Lyrebird Lake to work in a birth centre with my brother and sister-in-law.’
Ben’s interest seemed genuine. ‘What does your brother do?’
‘Andy? He’s the GP running the bush hospital, but doesn’t have much to do with the birthing side. He married my best friend and they’re expecting a new baby. The unit’s for women-centred care. The absolute best place to have a baby.’
He frowned, and Misty could see he was unfamiliar with the term. ‘Women-centred care. Define that?’
This was a wonderful diversion from the heat in her stomach. Misty could talk about this gladly. ‘Each midwife has her own caseload of clients in order to better meet the needs of the woman. It gives more satisfaction all round.’ She couldn’t help the excitement even she could hear in her voice.
‘The idea is to give each woman holistic care that can cover all the facets of being pregnant from antenatal education, mental status, breastfeeding and, of course, caring for baby when he or she comes home.’
Ben stared at her as if he didn’t get it. ‘I know obstetrics but it sounds like nothing I’ve ever had contact with.’ His voice held an extra dimension she couldn’t quite place but he went on quickly as if speeding away from the topic he’d started and now regretted.
His voice dropped. ‘Babies. New life.’
Ben turned his head to stare at the ceiling. ‘I wonder if what happened today means my slate is clean? Can I begin a new life because I so nearly lost the old one?’
The nuance of despair could have been imagined but something in his profile tugged at Misty.
She memorised the contours of his face for the time soon when she’d have to leave. ‘I believe anyone can start a new life if they are determined.’
He turned to look at her and there was a glow in his eyes that made her catch her breath. ‘Maybe you are destined to change my life.’
Impossible dream. She lifted her hand and peered at her watch as if to remind herself she needed to leave. Not that the fish would mind if she never went back to the beach to catch them. ‘I’m planning on doing a bit more with my life than running around dragging you out of life-threatening situations, Ben.’
His arms tightened. Even his aura seemed to drift around her like the sea that had almost claimed him. ‘But you saved my life so beautifully,’ he said.
The memories rushed back and she shivered. ‘Don’t joke about it, Ben, please. Today was very close.’
He stilled and then squeezed her shoulder in comfort and regret for upsetting her again. ‘Resuscitation is always frightening. I’m sorry you had to do that, Misty.’
She forced her mind away from those indelible pictures and closed the subject with finality. ‘I think I’ll get up.’
He ignored her statement and tightened his arm around her and lowered his voice so she’d have to strain to hear him. ‘So you’re a midwife. That would explain the mothering you’ve been doing.’
Her neck ached from the strain of wanting to sink into his arm and she gave up. She rested her head back and stared rigidly at the ceiling.
She blinked. He had stars glued in constellations on the roof. It was amazing, and she imagined they would glow fabulously at night. It would have taken days to create. She frowned. He had too much time on his hands, she thought as she tried to remember what he’d said while she tried to identify the star signs. Oh, yes, midwives and mothering.
‘Known a few midwives, have you?’ she said.
He gave a short mirthless laugh and she was jolted out of her contemplation of his ceiling.
‘In my time.’ His voice held self-contempt and she frowned at the disruption to the ambience in the room.
‘I worked in that environment but nothing like you’ve spoken about,’ he said. ‘It was in another lifetime and I don’t think I could ever go back to that.’
‘You’re an obstetrician, then?’ That would explain his midwife comment.
‘Was.’
She let the word lie between them because something told her she’d been privileged to hear even that information. It seemed she’d done the right thing because he went on as if the words were forced out of him.
‘Never going back.’
She couldn’t help it. ‘Why?’
He breathed deeply. ‘In our job, sad things occasionally happen and everyone has bad runs. It’s funny how something you would normally accept as a tragedy of nature can overwhelm you unexpectedly. That’s all.’
Misty had seen her fair share of sadness but, then, she’d always felt that dealing with loss in midwifery was a privilege to share with the parents. ‘I guess it depends on your own life experience how things can affect you.’
‘You don’t know how true that is,’ he said, and the way the words dragged out of him she decided she wouldn’t offer any more comments in case she caused more damage.
The silence stretched and Misty didn’t know whether to change the subject or just wait. After what seemed like an eternity she eased her fingers into his palm and wrapped her hand around his to at least let him know she was aware of his pain.
At her tentative offer of comfort his fingers stiffened in surprise and then, very slowly, his fingers relaxed in hers. She was glad he hadn’t rebuffed her. She sensed he wasn’t used to people offering him comfort and it made her want to pull his head down onto her chest and say it was all OK. But she couldn’t do that. She didn’t even know this man.
Ben raised his head and laughed softly if somewhat sardonically at his hand in Misty’s. ‘Imagine you wanting to comfort me.’
‘I don’t find that amusing,’ Misty said quietly.
He turned his head and looked at her. His smile
