Reunited...in Paris!. Sue MacKay
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are they all doing, clapping me? She nodded left and right. Now I’m behaving like royalty. Should’ve stayed back in Kiwi land where I’m just an ordinary girl.
‘Now I’d like to introduce the members of the panel for Friday. Benjamin Wells, cardiac surgeon from London.’ Luc Leclare introduced the other three specialists Ben would be talking with about a new technique they’d developed for post heart-transplant recovery.
As the men stood the applause increased tenfold. Tori sank back onto her chair, automatically clapping along with everyone else, feeling something very like pride for Ben leaking into her psyche. He was clever, had always been totally focused on cardiology and his patients.
While he was distracted by the applause she took the opportunity to study him once more. Can’t you get enough of him? Her lungs faltered. He’d been handsome, but add seven years and the drama of dealing with the unnecessary and controversial death of his patient, their break-up and those youthful good looks had toughened, tightened, making him even more good-looking. He suited who he’d become.
Ben finally sat down, and leaned close. ‘You’re staring.’
‘Just making sure I know who I’m sharing the front row with.’
‘And do you? Know me?’ A sad glint appeared in his eyes and his mouth flattened.
‘Do you still talk in funny voices and sing off-key while shaving?’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t have the time any more.’
He used to make time. ‘Sleep on your stomach?’
‘No.’
Another change. ‘Want six kids?’
‘I’d settle for one.’
He’d nearly got one. Her stomach hit the floor. The baby. Their baby, the one she’d lost and that he knew nothing about.
‘How am I doing?’ Ben asked.
Somehow she managed to croak out, ‘No, I don’t know you.’ She tried to find him a smile but was all out of them. Instead she muttered, ‘If you don’t mind, I would like to listen to the director.’
She had to look away from those eyes that saw too much, knew too much and had always got him what he wanted. Shame he hadn’t felt the same about her. They might’ve resolved some of their problems before they’d got out of hand. Not getting caught up in the web of fun and charm that was Benjamin Wells over the next few days would be the toughest challenge since their break-up. He came with too many memories, good and bad, for them to be able to step around the minefield and get along as though the past hadn’t happened.
Ben didn’t blame Tori for the cold shoulder she was working so hard to give him. If, back in London, he’d had more than twelve hours’ notice and hadn’t been frantically handing over patients to his colleagues he’d have tried to let her know that he’d be here, just to save any embarrassment. Except neither of them had been embarrassed—more shaken than anything.
How could he have forgotten how beautiful Tori was? He’d fallen in love with those classic features, perfect skin and twinkling emerald eyes. Fallen in a flash. One look across a frantically busy department had been all it had taken. Then he’d spoken to her and she’d laughed and that had been the ribbon on the box that was his heart. If he closed his eyes he could bring up the images of that morning right now. It had been her first day at Auckland’s specialist cardiac hospital, and she’d been sent to the department where he’d worked as a surgeon, trying to get up the hours and experience to go into private practice.
I’ve missed you, Tori.
His heart stalled. Got away, he had not. He’d refused to.
Yes, I have missed you. I’m only just beginning to admit it, but I have. I haven’t looked seriously at another woman since you. Haven’t wanted to.
As he watched Tori chatting to two conference attendees he felt a deep hunger opening up inside.
For Tori.
But they were finished. As in never-to-repeat-that-experience-again finished. Tori wouldn’t let him within a bull’s roar of her except in a crowded space like this. He’d hurt her beyond belief—for all the right reasons, or so he’d believed at the time. But later, when the flak died away and he’d had more than enough hours to reflect, he’d accepted he’d been lashing out at her for not believing in him, for not trusting him to be the consummate professional when operating on a patient—because she’d been right. His shame had been consuming him even before she’d questioned his integrity. Afterwards it had known no boundaries. If his wife couldn’t believe in him, who could? Not even his father had questioned his guilt, instead focusing on trying to hide it by laying the blame elsewhere, which had made the situation far worse.
Seeing Tori after all this time, touching her elbow, breathing the same air, had stirred up this intense hunger within him. Seriously? It couldn’t be hunger for Tori. They had far too many unresolved issues that they hadn’t been able to fix back when they’d been married. Even if he explained why he’d called it quits on their marriage there wasn’t a chance in Hades of Tori ever trusting him completely and thereby loving him again.
Even at the worst moments of their failing marriage he’d wished her the absolute best in her career, her private life, in everything she desired. Always. Then after their divorce he’d wanted it even more. He’d owed her for pushing her away at a time he’d desperately needed her. She’d known his need and he could still see the hurt in her eyes every time he’d denied her. He owed her for so many things, and at the same time he’d been slayed by her accusation. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to admit the truth to her.
‘Ben, there you are. I’ve been searching this crowd from the moment we were released for coffee. How the blazes are you? It’s been a while.’
Ben turned to find John standing beside him and clasped his hand. ‘Released? You make it sound like a sentence being here. How’re things with you? It’s been a long time.’ Hell, John had gained a lot of weight since they’d last caught up.
‘Too long, but I guess it’s too far for you to hop a ride down to Sydney to play catch-up.’ John sounded like he wished for exactly that.
‘It’s not next door, that’s for sure.’ But it was his turn to visit and he should’ve made the effort. John had been a good friend to him while he’d lived in Sydney, trying to get back on his feet. ‘I’ll head your way next time I pull holidays. How’s that?’ Talk about an instant decision. There’d be no backing out once John’s wife, Rita, heard.
‘Deal.’ John’s gaze drifted sideways to where Tori stood. ‘So that’s your ex-wife.’
‘Tori.’ John would’ve heard her name when she’d been introduced at the conference. Because they shared the same surname, would everyone here think he and Tori were married? He didn’t know what to make of that. Her explanation for not changing back to her maiden name didn’t ring true of her. Not the Tori he’d known, who’d always done what had needed doing without delay. Whenever he’d read ‘Tori Wells’ in an article or, recently, on the forum programme, he’d know a moment of pleasure—before reality had set in. They were divorced. Sharing a name meant nothing, held no connection.
John was still yabbering in his ear. ‘Got a surprise when “Madame Wells” stood up. I knew she was coming, but you never said she was a looker.’
A change of subject was needed urgently. ‘Is Rita here, too?’
‘You don’t think I’d be allowed to come to France without her, do you?’ John grinned. ‘I hate to think what’s happening to the credit card right now.’
‘Go, Rita. I hope she blows the budget big time.’ Ben knew the diminutive woman who was the light of his friend’s life would be very circumspect. She came from a poor background and having money on tap hadn’t made her a