The Perfect Wife and Mother?. Caroline Anderson
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‘Thanks,’ she murmured, and her voice sounded husky and emotional. ‘Um—what now?’
‘Your lady?’ he prodded gently.
She laughed and pulled herself together. ‘Oh. Right.’
She was heading out of the door when his pointed cough stopped her in her tracks.
‘Try removing some of the blood before you go out there,’ he said mildly.
She looked down at her coat, fresh this morning, and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Mmm—I see what you mean.’
Ryan’s patient was collected and taken to Theatre while she cleaned herself up, and he joined her at the sink. Their eyes met in the mirror.
‘Shall we finish off that poor woman now?’ she said.
His grin was worth waiting for.
‘She’s probably got better on her own by now, but I suppose we ought to check.’
Chuckling, they left the devastation behind, and the team of nursing staff waded in for the clean-up, ready for the next onslaught—whenever that might be. While the nurses checked the instruments and relaid the trolleys and prepared the room Ryan and Ginny discovered that another doctor had taken over and finished treating Ginny’s patient, so they went into the staffroom. While a fresh pot of coffee brewed Ryan talked her through the treatment both their biker patients would go on to receive. Then, just as the coffee-machine chugged and spluttered to a halt, they heard a siren again.
Ryan looked at her with those extraordinary green eyes and arched a brow expressively. ‘We’re on again,’ he murmured. ‘You stay here and have a coffee, if you like; I’ll handle it.’
‘Are you being kind or was that a dismissal?’
He grinned. ‘Dismissal? You have to be kidding. I tell you what—you go and see to it, I’ll have the coffee.’
She got instantly to her feet. ‘I tell you what—we’ll both go and deal with it and we’ll both have a coffee!’
Well, as first days went, it had been a good one, Ginny mused. She kicked off her shoes, dropped tiredly onto her extremely comfortable bed and closed her eyes. Thank God she wasn’t on duty that night. She wouldn’t have been at her best, although she would have done it as she’d done it countless times over the past couple of years.
She replayed the day—or, at least, she meant to, but she didn’t get a great deal further than Ryan.
Ryan’s voice, Ryan’s laugh, Ryan’s hands on her shoulders, Ryan’s chest squashed up against hers—well, the other way round to be exact, as Ryan’s chest wouldn’t squash with anything as trivial as her impact on it. Hers, on the other hand, had squashed most convincingly. She peered down at her bust, full and ripe and overtly feminine, and wondered how Ryan’s hands would feel gently cupping that softness.
A dull ache started up behind her eyes. She was tired. She must be, to start imagining things like that about her new boss. After all, after that first initial contact, he’d been very circumspect and had kept his distance both physically and verbally.
No little jokes, no innuendo—nothing to give her any indication that the attraction she thought she’d seen in his eyes had been anything other than her imagination or a fleeting interest dispelled by time and further exposure.
Which was just as well—wasn’t it? And, anyway, he was probably married.
‘Did you have a good day today?’
Evie nodded, her eyes wide and sparkling with mischief. ‘Granny took us to the beach again. We had ice cream and went on the little train and Gus was sick from eating too much popcorn.’
Ann’s mother smiled apologetically. ‘I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Children are often sick if they overindulge. I shouldn’t have let him have so much, should I, Angus?’
Gus shook his head cheerfully. ‘My sick was all full of popcorn and bright green from my lolly—’
‘OK, Gus, we don’t need the details,’ Ryan said wearily. How many times had he told their grandmother not to spoil them so much? They always had too much sun, too much food, too much everything. He hustled them to the car, strapped them in and took them home, tired but happy, and decided he was being too strict. So what if she spoiled them a little? They were kids. God knows, they had little enough fun in their lives.
It was funny how bathtime and bedtime always seemed endless, and yet when it was done and the children were tucked up in bed sound asleep the evening seemed to stretch on into the hereafter.
He showered and changed into old jeans and a scruffy T-shirt, meaning to tackle the garden a little before he went to bed, but it was a gorgeous evening and he found himself sitting down after his solitary meal with a beer in one hand and the local paper in the other, enjoying the last of the evening sun—and thinking about Virginia.
Lord, she was pretty. Her soft, lush curves had squashed up against him most invitingly, and he really hadn’t wanted to let her go. He’d forgotten what a real woman felt like—how solid and robust and positively right.
His heart started to thud more heavily, just with the memory, and his jeans tightened to an embarrassing degree. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the sun lounger and sighed. Was it wrong to want another woman? It didn’t feel wrong. It felt frighteningly normal and right.
It wasn’t as if Ann was still alive.
And he was. If he’d had any doubts about that in the past two years, today had dispelled them all. Yes, he was definitely alive—alive, well and in the market for a scorching affair.
Just sex, he promised himself. No commitment. Nothing long term or permanent, just a little diversion to help ease life along a little. After all, the kids needed him and there was very little left over to give anybody else.
But an affair with Virginia—oh, yes. He could handle that.
She’s a colleague, his alter ego was nagging gently. He switched it off. She understood the rules. She was a woman of the world—that was obvious from the assessing look she had given him that had thrown him for a loop.
They could work together and play together.
It would be fine. He’d make it fine.
His heart thudded a little faster, the beat heavy and strong under his ribs.
Anticipation.
He’d forgotten the taste of it, it had been so long.
He’d flirt with her a little, draw her out, see if she was interested. Maybe dinner, a play or the movies—something like that.
He wondered how Ann’s mother would feel about babysitting for him while he entertained a new woman.
Perhaps he’d ask the girl next door…!
So MAYBE she’d been mistaken. Maybe Ryan was interested. Either that or she was reading him all wrong, which could be fairly embarrassing!
She wasn’t. Every chance he had he made eye contact with her, and his eyes were ultra-expressive. She wasn’t sure if he meant them to be or if they just gave him away, but he was certainly interested in her.
She still didn’t know anything about him, however, but she was willing to bet from what she’d seen of him at work that he wasn’t the sort of man to cheat on his wife. The easy thing, of course, was just to come out and ask him, but she didn’t like to.
It was Patrick Haddon, one of the senior registrars, who told her in the end. They’d been working together on a patient and as the trolley was wheeled away to the ward he stripped off his gloves, dropped them