LITMIR.BIZ

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hospital.

      ‘Security, please.’ Tom spoke into the phone then, while waiting for the connection, he began skimming through the unread emails on his computer screen. After a moment, he continued. ‘It’s Tom Fielding, I’m just checking on the status of a missing patient. Joseph Kowalski. Admitted to the oral surgery ward about two hours ago, apparently did a runner out of the ward... Oh, okay. The cafeteria—poor man’s probably hungry. So where is he now? Right, that’s unfortunate. I’ll send the intern to collect him promptly. Thanks.’ With that he hung up the phone.

      ‘Well, Johnson, I suggest you head to the florist on the ground floor. Kowalski’s in there, trying to purchase a bouquet, and apparently while searching for his imaginary wallet underneath his hospital gown he has managed to show the family jewels to the volunteers. They’re a little disturbed, so you need to calmly head down and collect him. But remember, you’re no good to anyone, and particularly not Mr Kowalski, if you beat yourself up about it. You followed hospital procedure. You notified Security, and me, and they have him. Good outcome, so just head off and take him back to the ward pronto.’

      Sara clenched her eyes closed. Her mind was struggling to process what was happening. It made no sense to her. Stu had set up the appointment at the hospital to discuss his caseload and show her around the operating theatres. Then he was going to take her to his practice, which was apparently only a few blocks away. There had definitely been no mention of Tom in the conversation. If there had been she wouldn’t have agreed to come. Nervously, she smoothed her skirt and tugged her jacket back into position.

      More than anything, she wanted to run. To disappear and not face Tom again. But she couldn’t. She had made a promise to Stu to locum for him for the month. A promise she couldn’t break.

      The heat began rising in her cheeks. Her heart began beating a little faster. Elevating anxiety was threatening her composure but she was fighting back. She tried to put the situation into perspective quickly. She had limited time to find a solution, a tidy way to process this.

      The practice would occupy most of her time. There would be Theatre two days a week or perhaps only one and a half. She would be consulting at the private practice at least three days, maybe even three and a half. Thoughts of their recent night together, their romantic whirlwind engagement and their year as husband and wife had to be replaced hurriedly with a professional demeanour. She needed to rebuild those walls that had protected her for the last three years and which would once again be her saviour when she walked into the office to face Tom.

      Clearly his presence at the hospital would complicate things but she wouldn’t run and hide. She needed to face this head-on. She was thirty-two years old now with a respected medical career. The fact that they had spent one crazy night together couldn’t affect their work, they had to put it behind them.

      Perhaps he already had done that, she told herself. He had left the hotel room without a word and he hadn’t contacted her since, so he must be feeling the same way. She desperately needed to freeze her heart before she saw his face.

      Reaching down for her briefcase, she waited a moment for the young man to leave. With her head held high, she would walk into Tom’s office and behave as if nothing had ever happened.

      Unfortunately, she assumed the young man would be walking, not running, and not straight into her.

      His full weight met with her tiny frame, sending her crashing back into the wall and her briefcase tumbling down to the ground.

      ‘Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,’ he gasped, as he reached out to steady Sara. ‘Are you okay?’

      Sara was stunned into silence for a moment. Finally she managed to mutter, ‘I’m fine, really.’ She was a little shaken but didn’t want to make a fuss. Bending down to gather her belongings, she didn’t think the day could get any worse.

      ‘No, you’re not. You’re bleeding. You’ve cut your leg!’

      Sara spied the gash on her knee. The open lock on her briefcase must have cut her before it hit the ground.

      ‘Come with me. You’ll have to sit down while I get some antiseptic and gauze.’ The young man directed Sara into the office he had just left. Tom’s office. This was not the entrance she had hoped to make, which had been walking in confidently and meeting Tom on an equal footing. Now, limping in, she wasn’t going to meet him on any footing.

      * * *

      Tom didn’t lift his eyes from the papers he was reading on his desk. Sara noticed his white exam coat was still thrown over the chair. He had always hated wearing it, and apparently he still did. The top button of his blue striped shirt was undone and there was no sign of a tie.

      ‘They’re waiting downstairs, Johnson...you need to get there stat.’ His voice was stern but not abrasive.

      Sara stood in the doorway supported by her apologetic assailant. Across the room she watched the man who had captured her heart all those years ago and who had made love to her only a few short weeks ago. For the briefest moment time seemed to stand still. Her resolve to forget their history vanished and she found herself wondering how it would be if things had been different between them.

      She hated feeling this way. It wasn’t fair and she couldn’t allow her feelings to cloud her future. The chemistry they shared had allowed the anger and frustration to dissipate over dinner and drinks. But here in the hospital she would fight it. Her biological clock was ticking louder than her heart and she was determined that Tom Fielding would not rob her of the chance to have a family. She would not make that sacrifice. Letting him leave the hotel room had proved to Sara that she had the reserves to do it. To walk away a second time, and to let him do the same.

      Tom’s eyes were shadowed by a slight frown before he lifted his head and met her gaze. Abruptly the frown vanished and he stood to his feet.

      ‘Sara, I thought you were in San Antonio. What are you doing here?’ Suddenly Tom’s eyes dropped to the injury on her leg. ‘Are you hurt? What on earth happened?’ Concern etched his voice as he crossed the room with long purposeful strides. He drew her into his arms and pulled her close to his firm body as Johnson released his support.

      Sara resisted Tom’s hold. She tried to pull away but his strong arms held her still.

      ‘I crashed into her, Dr Fielding. I didn’t see her. I’m sorry. She was waiting outside but I was in a hurry and boof—I hit her.’ The young man re-enacted the collision with his hands.

      ‘Grab that chair,’ Tom said, motioning towards the large armchair that sat by the window. ‘Bring it here quickly.’

      The young man dragged the chair across the room and Tom gently lowered Sara onto the cushioned leather.

      ‘There’s a first-aid kit in the cupboard to the right of the bookcase.’

      Sara heard the instructions Tom gave to Johnson but her eyes were transfixed on Tom as he crossed the room to retrieve a small footstool by the bookcase.

      He looked every bit as gorgeous in the daylight as he had that night just a month ago. His lean, angular face was slightly tanned and his grey eyes were luminous beneath his sandy brows.

      He smiled at her as he carried the footstool back, his wide sensual mouth slowly curving upwards. But she would not reciprocate.

      Tom had no place in her life any more. In fact, he should never have been there. They were two very different people with completely different priorities in life.

      Sara swallowed hard. ‘It’s just a little scratch, honestly. It’s nothing...’ Her words were cut short when she felt the warmth of his hands on her bare skin. He looked into her eyes as he knelt on the floor beside her, gently lifting her leg and placing it on the stool. He moved the hem of her skirt slightly to assess the damage to her knee. She swallowed hard. She hated that the feel of his fingers lightly touching her skin sent shivers down her spine. Again she wished she had worn heavy woollen tights, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold.

      Johnson handed him an antiseptic

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