Falling For The Single Dad. Emily Forbes
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‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s grab a coffee and catch our breath. We can finish the tour later.’
He extended his hand to help her up from the sofa and the touch of his palm as Abi placed her hand in his created a current of electricity so strong that it couldn’t be contained and it shot out of her to ignite the air surrounding them until it seemed to glow. She could feel the air around them moving. It crackled and swirled like a living, breathing entity, creating a fire that sucked the air from her lungs and made it impossible to breathe. She pulled herself up on wobbly legs. Her vision was blurred around the edges and she felt dizzy and light headed. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
‘Are you okay?’ Damien asked as he let go of her hand.
Released from his hold, abruptly disconnected from him, she found she was able to breathe again. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, as she smoothed down the front of her skirt and stepped into her shoes. She closed her eyes briefly and took a quick deep breath to make sure she really was all right before she followed him out of the room. As they walked along the corridor she made sure she kept a couple of feet between them. Touching him again was out of the question.
* * *
Damien drank his coffee as quickly as possible without being impolite. He had taken Abi into the staff kitchen to make coffee but the room felt too small for both of them. He was having trouble breathing and it had nothing to do with the emergency he’d just averted and everything to do with a slim brunette who sat opposite him. He’d been dismissive of her without cause earlier and he felt badly about that, but now he was having trouble remembering exactly what his issue had been.
He could smell fresh peaches and he knew that was her fragrance he was inhaling. Was it any wonder he was having difficulty breathing? Every breath was like inhaling the essence of Abi and it was sweet torture. She made him think of the golden days of summer. Her amber eyes glowed like the late afternoon sun and she shimmered as if there was an energy within her that was too big to contain, although a sixth sense told him that something had happened that had diminished her glow. Something had damaged her, something had given her an air of fragility. She was only a waif of a girl but it wasn’t just about her size and he wondered what had happened in her past. But he didn’t have the time or energy to worry about her psyche; he had enough of his own issues to deal with. He didn’t have time for distractions and that was what she was.
He needed to breathe, he needed to leave.
He drained the dregs of his coffee, pushed his chair back and stood. ‘Will you be able to find your way back to your office? I need to speak to Freya.’ He knew he was making excuses but he needed to get away. He needed to break the spell he could feel her casting over him.
His departure was abrupt, and he could see from Abi’s puzzled expression that she thought so too but she didn’t complain or argue. She just nodded silently. It appeared she wasn’t much of a talker.
He did genuinely want to speak to Freya—he felt she needed to know about Clementine Jones, though he knew she would have heard the alarm and the code-blue call—but he suffered a moment of guilt over his hasty exit. He pushed those thoughts to one side as he knocked on Freya’s door and then brought her up to speed on the emergency.
‘Clementine was booked in for a breast enlargement but she has a long-standing eating disorder that probably triggered her cardiac arrest. She’s in the DOU under Geoff’s care now, but she needs counselling. I know you’re only taking on a handful of clients but this girl needs to be included on your list. She’s playing Russian roulette at the moment. It’s only a matter of time before she’s a statistic instead of a person. If she won’t see you then she needs to see another psychologist. James is her admitting surgeon but I’m sure he’ll agree.’
Freya nodded. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘So you were first on the scene?’
‘With Abi.’ He had to give credit where it was due.
‘You resuscitated her together?’
Damien nodded.
‘Now do you think she can handle the job?’
He needed Abi to pull her weight. He’d fought to have an extra surgeon on staff to ease some of his caseload but his first impressions had worried him. He hadn’t thought her old enough or strong enough to help him but he had to admit he had revised his opinion. He would give her the benefit of the doubt now after the composure she had displayed during the emergency. ‘I’ll agree I’m more confident now,’ he replied.
‘Good.’ Freya nodded. ‘Because James wants her to assist you in Theatre tomorrow. That will give her a feel for how the clinic runs and also give you a chance to assess her skills. Once you’re happy we’ll start to give her patients of her own, which will free up some of your time.’
Damien was happy with that. He was exhausted and had far too much on his plate. There were far too many things fighting for his attention. He had too much else to think about at the moment. He was virtually a single parent, raising a young daughter, and he had more work than he could handle. He couldn’t work twenty-four-seven—it wasn’t feasible and it was not what he wanted. Abi’s appointment needed to be successful. She had to work out and if she didn’t she’d have to go. It was as simple as that.
* * *
Abi’s head was spinning as she pulled her 4x4 into the driveway and hit the button for the automatic garage door. She needed time to think about her day and what had happened. What she’d seen, what she’d done, who she’d met. She would collect Jonty and they’d go for a walk. That would give her time to sort through her thoughts on the clinic, on Freya and on Damien.
The motor of the garage door made a distinctive whine as it kicked into gear and Abi could see Jonty racing across the lawn to greet her as she eased her car forward. A wave of guilt washed over her as she saw how eager he was to welcome her home. This was the first day that she and Jonty had been parted. She wondered if his day had been less eventful than hers. Was this how working mothers felt? At least she’d organised company for him. He shouldn’t have been lonely but she still hoped he’d missed her.
She closed the door and made a beeline for her landlords’ bungalow at the front of the property. Her landlords, George and Irma, were a retired couple in their late sixties and Abi rented their converted garage apartment. She had moved in about six weeks ago and had since found herself adopted by George and Irma as part of the family. She didn’t mind; she was enjoying feeling like she was part of a family. They had adopted her dog too, offering to keep him company while Abi returned to work. She wished she’d been able to take Jonty with her, for her sake more than his, but the clinic was no place for a large, hairy, golden retriever.
‘How did your first day go?’ Irma asked as Abi stepped onto the back porch. ‘Not quite what I expected,’ she replied. ‘But I’m sure it will be okay.’ She still needed time to process the day’s events. The Hills was different from what she was used to, very different, and even if she wasn’t sure that she would be suited to working there she suspected it would be interesting, albeit slightly more routine than the army. But perhaps that was just what she needed—ordinary and routine, excluding the odd cardiac arrest, of course.
‘I’ve made an extra-large pot of chilli beef. Would you like to eat with us tonight? You must be tired.’
Abi was more than happy to be looked after by Irma. She knew her fridge was bare and dinner at her place was likely to be toast