the point.
That so wasn’t the point.
‘Oh, I’ll calm down when I’m out of this place and as far away from you as I can get.’
‘Nina …’ He caught her coat as she turned to go, and swung her around.
‘Is this off the record?’ Nina checked.
‘Of course!’ Still, she was sure, there was an edge of a smile on his beautiful mouth.
‘Screw you!’
She shook him off, walked noisily on as fast as she could without slipping on ice, which he would just love, Nina thought angrily. Wouldn’t he just love watching her bottom up on the sidewalk as he slid past in his silver Jag?
She practically ran out of Angel’s, hailed a cab and climbed in, cursing under her breath as he overtook them.
At the same time, a curse come from Jack too.
What the hell was all that about? Jack wondered as he headed for his apartment.
Drama he so did not need.
Yet …
He thought of her angry face, the stamp of her boots, the bundle of passion he’d just witnessed and had actually enjoyed. Jack winced a little as he recalled his own retorts, though, which were so unlike him. He didn’t really row with anyone, didn’t really discuss, he just told people how it would be.
Still, as he headed for home she soon disappeared from his mind. He was just mildly annoyed that he had dumped Monica that morning, because he could really use a decent unwind …
Detached, clinical, yep, Jack was guilty as charged.
But no.
Nina was wrong.
He was so not burnt out.
Walking into her apartment, Nina closed the door on the world and let out a very long breath.
She would not think about Jack.
Neither would she think about Tommy.
Quite simply, she had to sleep and had learnt long ago that sometimes you simply had to turn off fear and panic and just close your eyes for a little while.
But her hands were shaking as she poured a glass of milk.
Nina wandered through her apartment, hoping it would soothe her.
She had just moved in and it was everything to her. She’d fought for eight years to have this, a proper home where finally they could be a family.
She went first to Blake’s room, looked at the mountain of boxes that would hopefully soon transform into a bed and bedside table and a chest of drawers, but so far the fairies hadn’t been in to build them. She’d hopefully do that tomorrow night, or at the latest by Blake’s access visit next weekend.
Then she moved to what would hopefully soon be Janey’s bedroom, but instead of feeling soothed her chest tightened in fear when she thought about her sister.
Janey, even before their parents’ death, had been a wilful, difficult child, but now at fifteen she was going spectacularly off the rails, and Nina was absolutely petrified for her younger sister.
She wanted Janey close and just hoped and prayed that the case meeting to be held in a few weeks would finally deem her a suitable guardian.
Nina had been seventeen when her parents had been killed in a horrific car crash. She had been considered old enough to look after herself, but too young to care for a one- and a seven-year-old and, she now conceded, the department had probably been right.
For two years she had been as difficult and as wild as Janey was now—worse, in fact. Devastated by the loss, not just of her parents but of her brother and sister too, Nina had been unable to keep up with the rent. She had lost her home and had spent a couple of years surfing friends’ couches until finally she had found the pro bono centre, which had, quite simply, turned her life around. The people there had counselled her, offered support, both practical and financial, and she had commenced her studies at the age of nineteen and had qualified as a social worker at twenty-three.
But a junior social worker’s wage had only allowed for a small one-bedroomed apartment and so she had still been unable to provide a proper home for her brother and sister, having to make do with just access visits and respite care.
Determined that they would be together Nina had scrimped and saved for the past two years, had gone without luxuries and every pay rise had gone towards her savings until finally she had found a three-bedroomed flat she could afford. Now, at the age of twenty-five, she was hoping that, after all these years, the Wilson siblings could be a real family.
But then she’d gone and lost her head with the Head of Paediatrics.
Nina tried to sleep.
Told herself that Jack wasn’t going to have her fired—he’d been inappropriate too.
Terribly so.
She lay there in bed and thought of his words, startled that just the repetition of them could have her body aflame.
Nina turned over, screwed her eyes closed and did her best not to think about him. She could not think about Jack like that—except she was.
Her own thoughts startled her. She had never been in a relationship, didn’t know how to handle men unless she was dealing with them professionally.
She wasn’t thinking professionally about Jack now.
And she hated sex, Nina reminded herself, except she was thinking the sexiest thoughts now, and she moaned out his name. For a breathless moment she lay there, embarrassed and mortified for different reasons now at the thought that tomorrow she might have to face him.
IT ACTUALLY WASN’T an issue.
When Nina walked into ICU to check on Tommy, the sight of Mike’s grief-stricken face was the only thing that consumed her and she barely noticed Jack speaking with Alex.
But Jack noticed her.
She was wearing a black skirt with a jade top and stockings and flat ankle boots today. She was far paler than yesterday and there were dark rings under her eyes, but even running on fatigue she was a ball of energy.
‘How is he?’
Mike shrugged helplessly. ‘He’s just had some more tests and they’re arranging a biopsy. They want to keep him on the ventilator for a few days …’ He looked up at Nina. ‘I’m so sorry for yesterday.’
‘Let’s deal with that another time,’ Nina said.
‘I think I was starting to realise that there was something really wrong with him …
