style="font-size:15px;"> Juliet did not respond to Charlie as she wasn’t sure what exactly she would say. Her equilibrium was beyond ruffled and she was struggling to keep her thoughts on track. She returned her attention to Bea, and stroked her daughter’s brow. ‘Mummy and the doctor will be taking you on this special bed to have that picture now. And then if the doctor is right and you have broken the bone in your arm then you will have a cast put on until it’s all healed.’
‘What’th that?’
‘You know when Billy, the little boy from playgroup, fell over last year and he had a bright blue plaster on his arm? And everyone drew pictures on it with crayons? That’s a cast.’
Bea nodded. ‘I drew a star and a moon.’
‘That’s right, and it was a very beautiful star and moon.’
‘Can I take it off? Billy couldn’t take it off.’
‘No, you won’t be able to take it off but it won’t be too uncomfortable,’ Charlie chimed in with a voice that Juliet noticed had suddenly warmed. She wasn’t sure if that warmth was directed at Bea alone or if he was attempting to be nice to Juliet as well. ‘There’s a soft bit inside and a hard layer outside that stops your arm from moving so that it can heal.’
Juliet turned back to face Charlie to ask another question and immediately wished she hadn’t. He had moved closer and his face was only inches from her. His cologne was subtle and very masculine. She tried to keep the same professional demeanour but dropped her eyes, refusing to keep the courtesy of eye contact for two reasons. One, she was still fuming and waiting for an apology that she doubted she would ever receive, and, two, she didn’t want to risk falling into the dark blue pools that were more blue than any she had ever seen before. She didn’t want to forgive him for his appalling behaviour. Without all of the facts he had jumped to a conclusion that was unjust. But her hormones were overriding her good sense. It was completely out of character for her. She was angry and she never paid attention to men, good-looking or not. And she would be damned if she would allow it to happen that day. Or any day in the future.
She quickly decided she didn’t want to hear an apology from Charlie. If one was not offered it would mean that she could then remain furious with good reason, keep the man at arm’s length and her mettle would not be tested. If he made amends, he might prove to be a distraction on some level that she didn’t want. Although she knew her sensible side would win, she didn’t want to waste any time on some ridiculous internal battle of hormones versus logic. Particularly when she had a very real battle to fight with the very same man.
Coughing, she cleared her throat in an attempt to gain some composure. Dr Warren’s nearness was, for some inexplicable reason, threatening to awaken something in Juliet she had buried a long time ago. And it didn’t need digging up now. That part of her life was over. Perhaps it was just sleep deprivation, she wondered. She had not travelled for so many hours straight before either. Nor had her daughter ever suffered an injury of that nature. It had to be the series of events stacked against her that was messing with her logic. Making her emotions a little unstable. It wasn’t her. It definitely had to be the combination of factors, she decided, not Charlie Warren himself. Suddenly she had everything back in perspective, the way she liked it. Charlie Warren was her daughter’s doctor and her potential nemesis.
‘Will you be using fibreglass?’ she asked, quieting any sign of emotion. Her heart was no longer beating madly and the butterflies were one by one exiting her stomach. She was proud of herself for so quickly once again gaining control of the situation. Although she was still disturbed the situation had presented in the first place.
Jet lag, she quickly told herself. Definitely jet lag.
‘If Bea needs a cast we’ll use fibreglass and, since it will be difficult to expect Bea to keep it dry, I’ll use a waterproof lining too,’ Charlie told her.
‘Billy had blue but I don’t like blue,’ Bea said softly, looking down at her arm.
‘We have pink and yellow and I think red too,’ Charlie responded with his mouth curving to a half-smile and that did not go unnoticed by Juliet.
‘I like red for Chrithmath…but pink ith pretty… I want pink,’ Bea announced.
Juliet smiled at her daughter. As she lifted her head her eyes met Charlie’s eyes staring back at her and her heart once again began to pick up speed. It was madness for certain. The intensity of his gaze wouldn’t allow her to look away. It was as if there was something deeper, something hidden behind the outer arrogance. Warmth and kindness seemed almost trapped inside him.
And she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, and how much she’d fought it over the years, that there was a tiny part of her craving warmth and kindness from a man like Charlie.
‘UNFORTUNATELY BEA HAS a distal radial fracture…but at least it’s non-displaced so we should be grateful for that news.’
Charlie turned back from the radiographs on the illuminated viewer in the room to see Juliet holding her daughter closely. He could not help but notice the tenderness in her embrace and the obvious love Juliet had for her daughter. He had been wrong about her, he admitted to himself as he watched her gently kiss the mop of blonde curls on the top of her daughter’s head. He had not accompanied them to the radiography department. Instead he had excused himself to change into street clothes he kept in his office and then met them back in the emergency department.
Their eyes met and he paused in silence for a moment. He hoped she had not noticed him staring longer than was necessary but he could not help himself. Despite their professional differences, there was something about Juliet that was making him curious. Making him want to know more about the single mother with the Australian accent; the very pretty face; the spitfire personality; and the adorable daughter. He had noted her mention Bea only had one parent. Whether she was widowed, divorced or had never married, he didn’t know. And it was none of his business.
It was out of character for him to be distracted by anything or anyone. Least of all someone he had only just met. But he could not pretend even to himself that he had not been distracted by Juliet, and it was not just her appearance. She was a conundrum. A surgeon who looked closer in age to a first-year medical student while he knew she would have to be in her thirties, with an academic record that would come close to that of a professor and an attitude when provoked of a bull. Not to mention a love for her child that was palpable. He had not met anyone quite like Dr Juliet Turner before.
Charlie was never thrown by anyone or anything. Charlie Warren’s life was organised and predictable. It was the only way he could function. He had few friends, save his colleagues during his work hours. Socialising was a thing of the past although he had been forced to attend the recent hospital fundraiser, escaping as soon as decently possible.
He spent any time away from the hospital alone and preferred it that way. In more than two years, Charlie had never experienced any interest in anything other than his work. Returning home only to sleep and prepare for the next day’s surgery or consultations. His patients were his sole passion in life. And now the Australian in-utero expert, with whom he completely disagreed on a professional level, was rousing his curiosity in knowing more about her.
And it was unsettling.
The second anniversary of the accident had just passed
