The Boy Who Made Them Love Again Page 4
His eyes fixated on the view, causing her to look down and cross her arms in front of her chest in embarrassment. ‘Stop it.’
‘I wasn’t doing anything.’ The corners of his lips turned upwards in the beginnings of a smile.
Abby sat down on the nearby bench and put her head in her hands. ‘This is madness.’
Luke hovered for an instant, unsure of what to do next, before sitting down next to her. His thigh brushed against hers and she jerked her leg away.
Her fingers parted slightly and she peeked out at him. ‘Stop touching me.’
He raised his eyebrow. ‘I am not having a conversation with a pair of hands.’
‘You’re going to have to, because I can’t stand looking at you.’
‘No, I’m not.’ His broad hands enveloped hers and gently pulled them away from her flushed face. ‘We’re adults, Abby, not children.’
‘You’re making me feel as if I’m eighteen again.’
Laughter lines appeared all around his eyes as a huge smile took over his face. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘Now, that I really would like to see again.’
She swatted at his leg as a new wash of red swept up into her cheeks. ‘Stop it. No, I mean it, stop it.’
Luke leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her babble. He was amused. The unflappable Abby Tyler was flustered. This was twice in one day. Had he ever seen her this way before?
She stood up and started pacing across the room. ‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know? Coming in here with the First Lady, the First Lady no less, and wreaking havoc in my emergency room. And as for the black brigade—they seem to have an amazing ability to self-replicate—they’re like a virus. One minute there’s five of them, two minutes later there’s ten of them! Where do they come from?’ She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘And James Turner—the Man in Black—threatened to shut my emergency department! And do you know they’re checking the personnel files of all my staff? How dare they? Bursting in here, taking over the place, then checking on my staff, my staff! Who do they think they are?’ Her voice had reached fever pitch by now.
Abby was frustrated. She was beyond frustrated. Sexually frustrated. Something she hadn’t experienced in five years. She’d just gone from the starting blocks to practically the finishing line in the flicker of an eye. Or more like the flicker of a finger.
But this wasn’t her. She didn’t do things like this any more. So why were her legs like jelly? Why couldn’t she look him in the eye? And why was she ranting and raving like an idiot? Things had changed. She couldn’t do anything like this now.
‘Have you finished?’
‘Hell, no! And as for you …’ She pointed a finger at him accusingly. ‘You virtually disappeared off the planet. No nice emails, no phone calls. Then you come in here after all this time and kiss me! Kiss me as if we’ve never been apart.’ And please kiss me again, only this time don’t stop. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been doing for the last five years, or where you’ve been, or who you’ve been with.’ Her voice fell as a sudden realisation hit her. ‘You could be married for all I know.’ Her eyes fell automatically to his left hand. No ring. Her eyes met his. ‘Are you?’
Luke shook his head. In an instant the colour had left her face, leaving her deathly pale. She looked as if she could fall over. He stood up and caught her by the shoulders. ‘Abby, calm down.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not married—of course I’m not married—I wouldn’t be kissing you if I was.’
The words hung in the air. He lifted his finger and touched her cheek. ‘And you know why there were no phone calls, no emails. Not because I didn’t care, Abby. I cared too much. And we both had to move on. I couldn’t do that if I’d seen or spoken to you every day—and it looks like you couldn’t too. You moved here, remember?’
She looked stunned. He was touching her again and the heat from his body was electric, causing ripple effects all over again. She shrugged her shoulders out from under his grasp. ‘I told you to stop touching me,’ she muttered as she turned around and started pulling things from the locker in front of her. ‘Here, put your clothes back on, please.’ She shoved his trousers at him, her hands feeling the expensive fabric beneath her fingers. ‘I guess you didn’t buy these in Target, did you?’
Her eyes fell to the obvious lump in his scrubs. It was still there. It hadn’t disappeared in an instant. After all this time she could still have a long-lasting effect on him. Was that good or bad? ‘Well, hurry up and put them on, maybe they’ll give you a little more coverage.’ She turned and pulled out his now crumpled white shirt and silk red tie, glancing at the labels. ‘You must be Washington’s best-dressed doctor.’
Luke shook his head and grabbed the shirt out of her hands, dropping it on the bench next to him as he pulled his scrub top over his head.
Abby stood frozen to the spot. The last time she’d seen those sun-kissed pecs and abs she’d been all over them. There was something really disconcerting about standing in an enclosed space with a half-dressed man who’d just kissed you. And his cheeky grin was infuriating her. No, really infuriating her.
This was all just a joke to him. He didn’t know how much her stomach was churning. She didn’t even care that the First Lady and her SWOT team were there. Well, maybe that wasn’t strictly true. But the First Lady was a patient, and patients she could deal with. Ex-lovers who’d broken her heart she couldn’t. Especially when they looked like Luke. With his white-blond hair, tanned skin and gleaming teeth he looked as if any minute now an ad company would come running in with their cameras, strap a surfboard to his back and whizz him off to an exotic beach location somewhere for a photo shoot.
She watched as he turned slightly to put his arm in his sleeve. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw something new, a little zigzag scar running across his shoulder blade. Before she had time to even think about it her finger was touching it.
‘That’s new. What happened?’
He stopped, leaving his shirt hanging halfway down his back as the tip of her finger lightly traced the line of the scar. ‘Abby …’
‘What?’ She was mesmerised by the ragged, uplifted skin. Maybe Luke wasn’t so perfect, after all?
Luke took a deep breath and glanced downwards. ‘Stop touching me,’ he growled.
She followed his gaze and pulled her hand back sharply. ‘Oops, sorry.’ She took a few steps and flattened herself against the far wall. She couldn’t touch him from over there. Just as well. She averted her eyes as he stepped out of the flimsy scrubs and into his designer trousers. Well, she tried to move her gaze, but still happened to catch the slightest glimpse of his trademark white tight-fitting shorts. Shorts that left nothing to the imagination, causing her to feel a tingling sensation between her thighs.
‘You’re driving me crazy,’ he growled again.
‘Sorry.’ She turned her back and found herself staring at the wall. Great. She was trapped in an enclosed space with a man she hadn’t seen in five years and all she wanted to do was jump on him. Now she really was acting like a teenager. Who was this Abby Tyler? Time to change the subject.
‘So how did you get the job?’
‘What job?’
‘Working for the President, of course!’
‘Oh, that job.’ She heard him rustling for a moment. ‘You can turn around now.’
Could she? Would he be completely undressed and ready for her? She whipped around. There he was. Fully dressed and still looking good enough to eat. She almost gave a sigh of disappointment. ‘Straighten your tie,’ she said as she pointed at the crooked tie. ‘I’d do it for you but I’m not allowed to touch.’
He gave her a sarcastic smile as he straightened his tie. ‘I don’t really work for the President. I’m just on his list.’
‘What does that mean—on his list?’
Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think they just like to cover all eventualities. I was approached a few yea
rs ago and asked if I would be the President’s cardiologist. They ran a huge number of checks on me, with my permission of course, and after a few months came back and explained that they would call if I was needed.’
‘I thought all the President’s doctors were from the military?’
Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘They usually are. But the military doesn’t cover all areas. The President’s physician is from the military and he’s in charge of the White House medical unit. But some of the other specialists are like me—just called in when, and if, they’re needed. Dr Blair was Jennifer Taylor’s family obstetrician. She brought him with her, because it’s been a long time since the White House needed an obstetrician.’
‘So you’ve never actually met him?’
Luke shook his head. ‘No, and today was the first time I’d met the First Lady too.’
‘And here was me thinking that you were their best friend! I guess it didn’t hurt that you were connected?’
His face darkened. ‘I’d like to think they contacted me because of my professional expertise, rather than the fact my father’s a senator.’
Abby flinched. Well, that was one way to dampen the sexual tension in the room. She should have known better. Luke’s relationship with his father was strained enough, without her insinuating that he’d been given an easy route into a prestigious position. She’d forgotten how much he prickled at the mere mention of his father. ‘I’m sure they did.’ She held open the nearby door, allowing some cool, fresh air into the claustrophobic changing room—just what they both needed—and resisting the temptation to look and see if the tell-tale bulge in his trousers was under control yet. ‘Are you ready? Let’s go and get you that four-shot coffee you wanted.’
‘Actually, I’m not strictly a four-shot drinker any more. I’ve mellowed.’
Abby choked in disbelief at the words. ‘You? Mellowed? Well, I never thought I’d see the day!’
He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘I might surprise you.’
He grabbed the door and fell into step beside her, his arm draping easily across her shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was.
She gave him a sideways smile. ‘Luke?’
‘Yeah?’
‘We’re going to have to have some rules about touching …’
CHAPTER THREE
THE canteen was small and informal, nothing like the chaotic and bustling university hospital canteen Luke was used to.
‘Your usual, Abby?’ the assistant called from behind the serving counter.
‘Thanks, Jan.’ She turned and looked at Luke. ‘What would you like?’
Luke resisted the temptation to say what came to mind and looked around, puzzled. The place was immaculate but he couldn’t exactly see what food was on offer. ‘What’s your usual?’
Abby gave a little smile and glanced at her watch. ‘You probably expect me to have something healthy like fruit juice and an apple but, at this time of day, and because nine times out of ten I miss lunch, it’s a latte and one of Jan’s home-made pancakes.’
‘Mmm, that sounds good. I’ll have the same.’
‘Make that two, Jan,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
Luke stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out some money as two steaming tall latte glasses appeared, followed by two plates with hot pancakes. His stomach growled loudly at the appetising aroma, reminding him how long it had been since he’d eaten.
Abby waved her arm. ‘Put your money away—I’ve got a tab.’ She lifted the tray and walked over to a nearby table, sitting down and handing him his latte glass and plate. The canteen was quiet, with only a few other people sitting at the surrounding tables.
Luke leaned over and took a deep breath. ‘Mmm, this smells great. I haven’t had home-made pancakes in years.’
Abby bit her lip. When they’d lived together as medical students home-made pancakes had been one of their Sunday-morning rituals, along with a number of other things … Luke obviously didn’t remember. Maybe reliving the past wasn’t as good as Abby thought it was.
He looked around him. Sunlight was streaming though the nearby window, which overlooked the lush green gardens. The canteen was at the back of the hospital, facing onto the hills. The garden beds were packed with brightly coloured flowers and obviously well tended. The bushes were shaped and trimmed into neat round circles. So instead of feeling deprived of the ocean view, this really was a little piece of paradise.
‘So how long have you worked here, Abby?’
She took a sip of her coffee. ‘For the last five years. I was lucky, I was able to transfer from Washington to San Francisco on my residency programme. And when I got here, the programme included covering shifts down here. They never needed to ask me twice. Once I was qualified, the paediatrician post came up that included coverage down here and I leapt at the chance.’
Luke nodded. Things started slotting into place. She’d transferred almost immediately after they’d broken up. It wasn’t easy to swap residency programmes, so someone must have pulled some strings. He watched as Abby spread butter over her pancake.
‘What, no syrup?’
She shook her head. ‘My tastes have changed—just like yours.’ She pointed to his coffee.
Luke blinked. What did she mean, her tastes had changed? Was that a dig at him? She hadn’t kissed him as though her tastes had changed. She’d kissed him as though they’d never been apart. The silence in the air was heavy between them.
Luke opened his mouth to speak again but she interrupted him.
‘So what have you been doing in Washington? I’ve seen your name on a couple of research papers.’
‘You have?’ His eyes lit up with genuine excitement. His job was his passion. But more than that, she’d obviously been keeping tabs on his work. Why would she do that if she wasn’t interested? ‘Well, you’ll have seen I’ve helped in the development and clinical trials of one of the newer types of stents.’
She nodded in appreciation, her mouth now stuffed with pancake.
‘I’ve also been doing some drug trials—some in kids with cardiac conditions. I’ve been working with a paediatrician called Lisa Jones. Do you know her?’
It was all she could do not to choke on her pancake. Abby nodded again. Oh, she knew her all right. Lisa Jones, paediatrician extraordinaire—or so you would believe if you spoke to her. ‘Luscious Lisa’, her friends called her. Along with the motto Never leave your man alone in a room with her. Lisa did most of her best work in the horizontal position, especially around promotion time.
Her eyes were automatically drawn to Luke. With his blond hair, pale blue eyes and surfer-boy build and tan, he would be a prime target for Lisa. Something that made her feel physically sick. She pushed her pancake away.
‘So what exactly has Lisa been doing for you?’
Luke raised his eyebrows at the tone in her voice. ‘She’s been identifying suitable candidates for the study,’ he said pointedly. He bent forward and took a sip of his coffee. ‘I can see you’re obviously not in her fan club.’
‘Show me a woman that is.’
He shook his head. ‘She’s actually really clever and has a good grasp of the research ethics and principles required for drug trials.’
‘That’s not all she usually has a good grasp of.’
Luke put down his glass, a smile creeping across his face. ‘Abby, are you jealous?’
‘Why on earth would I be jealous?’ Right now she would cheerfully pull every one of Luscious Lisa’s mahogany locks from her head if she had a chance. A fist tightened around her heart. What on earth was wrong with her? She hadn’t seen Luke in five years—she had absolutely no right to feel jealous of any relationship he may, or may not, be having. So how come the thought of him playing bedroom hockey with Lisa Jones was driving her insane?
Luke shook his head and reached across the table for her hand. ‘I’ve never seen you so riled up. You’re usually so laid back you’re horizontal.’
Her pager sounded loudly, causing both of them to jump. They’d been so caught up in each other that they’d almost forgotten about the situation surrounding them. Luke reluctantly released her hand.
Abby glanced down at the number on her pager attached to her scrubs. She stood up immediately, pushing the chair backwards with a screech. ‘It’s Dr Fairgreaves. He needs to speak to me now.’
Luke stood up, the tell-tale worry lines appearing on his brow instantly. ‘Mind if I tag along?’
‘Not at all.’
They headed out the doors towards the ER. Abby couldn’t shift the uncomfortable feeling in her gut. He hadn’t exactly answered her question. What had Lisa Jones been doing for Luke? And why the hell couldn’t she get thoughts of the two of them out of her mind?
Dr Fairgreaves was sitting in one of the two doctors’ offices in the ER, writing furiously in the First Lady’s notes. He was still wearing his dark green fishing hat over his unruly hair but had donned a more traditional white coat. He leaned back in his chair as Abby and Luke came into the small room.
‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’
They turned and looked at each other for a second, wondering what was coming next.
Dr Fairgreaves continued. ‘The good news is that we don’t have an immediate arrival. But we probably will have at some point in the next four days. The bad news is that she doesn’t want to go back to Washington.’
‘What?’ Luke’s voice went up about ten decibels.
‘Oh, no,’ Abby groaned, and held her head in her hands.
‘What do you mean, she doesn’t want to go back to Washington?’
Dr Fairgreaves smiled at Luke. ‘She’s quite some woman. I’d hate to be up against her in a court of law. I doubt I’d come out alive.’
‘But that’s ridiculous.’ Luke looked around him. ‘There are no facilities here for a premature baby. Maybe if she was thirty-six or thirty-seven weeks, but not at this stage.’