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 and it was a day he wanted to do differently every night as he lay alone in his bed reliving the hell that had become his waking reality. One he couldn’t change. One he had accepted a long time ago that he would live with for the rest of his life. And to be spending any time thinking about a woman other than his late wife was ridiculous.
But as much as he fought the distraction, he couldn’t control his wandering thoughts.
He wondered for a moment what life had dealt Juliet. Just being a surgeon would have provided struggles along the way. He had found the study and workload gruelling and he was not raising a child alone. Whether or not her status as a single mother was recent he was unsure. She looked to him like a waif but she had the fire and fight of someone a foot taller and he assumed she would have faced life head-on. His wife had been similar in stature but very different in demeanour and profession. She was quietly spoken, and a local Cotswolds girl who managed a craft shop in town. She spent hours quilting and running the little store that doubled as a social hub for the local community.
Charlie doubted that Juliet would have any interest in quilting. But it bothered him greatly that questions about the woman holding her daughter had suddenly and unexplainably captured his thoughts.
He was grateful that Juliet had been distracted by the nurse coming back and looked away. For some unfathomable reason he was struggling to do just that. The woman before him was nothing close to the stoic surgical specialist he’d been expecting and he was shocked at just how much he had noticed about her in such a short space of time.
And he was angry and disappointed with himself for doing so.
* * *
Juliet forced herself to blink away her wandering thoughts. Charlie Warren was nothing close to what she’d been expecting. His white consulting coat covered black dress jeans and blue striped shirt. He was still wearing his black motorcycle boots. The combination of the leather and gunmetal hardware of his boots was both edgy and masculine. It had to stop. She had not flown to another hemisphere to find herself distracted by the first handsome man she met. First handsome, arrogant man who would be her work colleague for the next few weeks.
She felt butterflies slowly returning just knowing he was so close to her. Close enough to reach out and touch her. Not that he would...nor would she want that, she told herself sternly. But it was as if she could see there was something more to the man who had rudely stood her up and then berated her for inattention to her daughter. Was his brash exterior a shield? She wasn’t sure as she tried in vain to analyse the ogre. Perhaps it was the way he had rushed to Bea. As a man and as a doctor, he had not hesitated to help Juliet’s daughter. He had lifted her into the safety and strength of his arms the way a father would. The way Bea’s own father never would and the way no man other than her grandfather up until that day had done.
But it was romantic nonsense. He was just the tall and not so dark—more dusty blond—handsome stranger of happily ever after stories that she knew didn’t really exist.
There wasn’t anything more to this man, her practical self was saying firmly and resolutely despite how her body was arguing. He wasn’t even nice let alone the type to sweep her off her feet. He was far too brusque and cold. What was going on in her tired mind? she wondered. It had to be international time difference setting in. Most definitely. It couldn’t be anything else stirring her thoughts into chaos. She needed a good night’s sleep and all would be as it should be. And she would be looking at her colleague as just that, a colleague. And if his strong, borderline obstinate opinion about her plans on surgical intervention with the quadruplets’ mother
