Daring To Date Her Ex

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‘I always knew what you wanted to do. I supported you in that.’ She shrugged, as if it really didn’t matter.

He’d had time to reflect on the mistake he’d made in breaking up with her, and he knew now that it did matter. ‘I called you. Before the funeral. I couldn’t get through on your mobile and I didn’t want to leave a message. So I tried the house you used to share.’

‘What did they say?’

‘That you’d gone abroad. That you wouldn’t want to speak to me.’

She took a deep breath and a gulp of her wine.

‘I didn’t blame you, Thea. I’d half expected you to refuse to speak to me.’

She shook her head. ‘That was … I got drunk one night and said it to the girls I lived with. I didn’t mean it. Of course I would have spoken to you.’

‘Where did you go?’ Suddenly it was important that he knew.

Her gaze was on his face now and her cheeks were starting to burn red. ‘I went to Bangladesh. It was my last summer before I started work and I thought it would be nice to drop in and see where you were staying. For a bit of a holiday …’

It was all falling into place. An exquisitely timed tragedy. He had left Thea, planning to spend a fortnight with his family before going to Bangladesh. And in that fortnight everything had changed. Sam and Claire had died. And however casual she made it sound, there was no doubt in his mind that Thea had decided to go to Bangladesh to find him.

‘I’m sorry I missed you.’

‘It wasn’t your fault. I’m just sorry that I never knew about Sam and Claire.’

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he couldn’t find a way to tell her that. It was almost a relief when she reached briskly for the pile of papers that she’d propped on the windowsill behind her.

‘Thanks for tonight, but I’m really tired. Could I call you tomorrow morning to discuss our reply to the newspaper article?’

That would be good. There were far too many questions swimming in his head at the moment to concentrate on anything. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be around all morning.’

Thea felt sick. She stopped the car, wondering whether it would be better to reach for the empty shopping bag under the seat, stick her fingers down her throat and get it over with.

Probably not. The feeling was in her chest and nothing to do with her stomach.

He’d had good reasons for not being on that plane. He’d called her. If she’d known either of those things, what had happened next might have been very different. Instead, she’d been too proud to contact Lucas and had continued on a path that would lead to disgrace.

She switched on the car radio and then thought better of it, punching the ‘off’ button. The radio had turned into something like a game of Russian roulette, never knowing whether the next track would be the one which reminded her of Lucas.

Just drive. Go home. Get some sleep. She had put her life back together again, piece by piece, but Thea knew that it was still a shaky structure. And Lucas had already broken her heart once. Long and slow, bit by bit, from the moment he’d left her to the time she’d realised he wasn’t in Bangladesh. If she was going to keep it all together now, she had to somehow stop caring about him.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_9e32df94-0f42-5a0a-bb25-3197af7fb642)

Week Three

SHE LOOKED LOVELY, almost like the young woman he’d once known. Apart from her hair, and Lucas was getting used to that and actually thought it rather suited her. It was just that he remembered when it had tumbled down her back. When he’d let it slide through his fingers. The night she’d lain on her back while he’d brushed it out in a shining circle around her head. It had been as if they’d been making love on golden sheets.

No more fairy tales. Thea was more like a pageboy than a princess now, seeming to go out of her way to be inconspicuous. A ferocious, committed pageboy, and today a rather glamorous one, who wore a neat, dark jacket and skirt instead of her usual trousers. Her gleaming hair was brushed in a don’t-mess-with-me arrangement and she had a little make-up on. Small changes that were killing Lucas, because at this moment all he wanted to do was mess with her.

The press conference was at two that afternoon, and Thea had disappeared just when he wanted to do a final run-through of the answers to all the expected questions. No one in the department had seen her, she wasn’t in the canteen, and the incident team’s office was empty.

Not quite empty. There was no answer when he called her name but a rustle and the sound of laboured breathing from behind a door in the corner told him that someone was there. Lucas didn’t think he’d ever actually opened that door, reckoning that it was probably a cupboard of some sort.

It was. A large store cupboard, intended to hold the medical supplies for the adjoining clinic. When Lucas opened the door, Thea was perched precariously on the windowsill, breathing into a paper bag.

‘Thea?’ He advanced towards her and she almost shrank from him, her breath coming faster now. Lucas stopped, three feet away from her. ‘Are you all right?’

Of course she wasn’t. Her breathing was fast and irregular, overfilling her lungs with oxygen. The paper bag didn’t seem to be helping at all, because she could hardly hold it to her lips.

She couldn’t speak but she motioned him away angrily, as if it was his fault that he’d seen the weakness behind her veneer. Lucas put the sheaf of papers he was carrying onto one of the shelves that lined the wall and walked slowly towards her. Even that seemed to spook her.

‘Can you walk?’

She ignored him completely. Even if she could walk, she obviously wasn’t intending to go anywhere with him. Lucas turned and flipped the lock on the door, wondering how incriminating it would look if anyone found them locked in a store cupboard together. As long as her boss didn’t hear of it, he was probably in the clear.

‘You’re all right.’ He held the crumpled paper bag to her lips. ‘Just breathe.’

Her eyes were wild, the way he’d used to love them, but she did what he asked. Lucas counted out the breaths, his hand light on her back as reassurance, and slowly she began to calm.

‘Would you like some water?’

She just looked at him so Lucas fetched the bottle of water he’d been carrying with his papers. Held it to her lips and she sipped a little, gratefully.

‘What’s going on, Thea?’ Once upon a time she would’ve told him. Things were different now.

‘I’m okay. Just a little tired.’

‘Yeah. Pull the other one.’ He said the words gently. ‘Tired doesn’t give you panic attacks.’

‘I just need a minute. Don’t fuss.’

So that was how she intended to play it. As a doctor, there was little more that Lucas could do, and he had no intention of rekindling their relationship. Nothing said they couldn’t be friends, though. He sat down beside her on the windowsill, put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug.

He felt her stiffen and then relax. Lucas had thought he remembered how good her body felt against his, but he hadn’t. It was almost impossible to hold her without kissing her.

His lips formed the shape of a kiss into the air above her head. A fragile thing that died as soon as it was born, instead of leading into a smile and then something delicious. Lucas held her for a few moments more and then gently drew back.

‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Okay, then. Keep it to yourself.’

That got the ghost of a smile from her. ‘We should make a move. You don’t want to be late for your public.’

‘You need to rest.’

‘I do not.’

‘Have it your own way. I’m not taking you into a press conference wondering if you’ll be whipping out a paper bag to breathe into any moment. It’s not the most reassuring look.’

‘You don’t need to wonder. I’ve had my moment.’

She seemed steady enough now, if a little washed out. Lucas got to his feet. ‘Stay here. I’ll handle it.’

‘We agreed that you and someone from the hospital should attend. Provide a cohesive response.’

‘Michael Freeman’s here. I’ll ask him to stand in.’

A look of alarm crossed her face and he sat down again, wondering if he was going to need the paper bag again.

‘You will not. This is my job.’

‘Something to prove?’

‘Yes, of course I do. Don’t tell me that you’re any different.’

Thea wasn’t fearless, never had been. Only those with no understanding of the consequences of a situation were completely without fear. But this was the response she’d always given to things that frightened her. She faced them, just to show who was boss.

‘I need to know, then.’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t much like the idea of sitting in front of a crowd of people and being photographed. I’ve never been at a press conference before.’

‘Well, it’s not much like TV. No shouting and flashing bulbs, they’re usually quite civilised.’ He grinned. ‘The ones I give are, anyway.’

‘That’s a relief.’

He chanced another question. ‘I hope you didn’t mind that I let Ava have your photograph to put on her board.’

For a moment she truly didn’t see the connection, and then understanding dawned on her face. ‘Of course not. It was nice to see it again.’

He nodded. ‘So you don’t mind old photos—just new ones.’

She looked at him with that blank expression that signalled something she didn’t want to talk about. ‘Something like that.’

‘Okay. I’ll figure it out.’

Half the puzzle had fallen into place, leaving the other half even more tantalisingly unknown than before. Everything that Thea did now seemed focussed on not drawing too much attention to herself. All he needed to know now was why that was so important to her.

‘Look, let’s just go and get this done.’ The old Thea surfaced suddenly. The one who didn’t let anything get in her way, not even him. If she had the assembled newsmen as firmly under her spell as she did him, they’d have nothing to worry about.

‘Wait a minute …’ He walked to the door, listening to make sure that no one was outside. He didn’t have a plan for what he might do if he heard anything.

She slid past him and opened the door, to reveal an empty office. ‘I don’t imagine anyone’s got a problem with our inspecting the stockroom, have they?’

He followed her outside, grinning. ‘No. I don’t imagine they have.’

Thea braved it out. She didn’t feel all that brave and she was embarrassed that Lucas had found her having a panic attack in a cupboard, but he seemed to take that in his stride. He didn’t leave her side, ushering her to her seat and sitting down next to her. His bulk, the way he naturally drew everyone’s attention and seemed to absorb it with ease, was reassuring. She could do this. There would be no repeat of Bangladesh, no shouting, no name-calling. This was just a group of men and women, with notepads and voice recorders, who asked all the expected questions.

‘Splendid!’ Michael Freeman was smiling as they left their seats and the crowd in the room started to mingle. ‘I thought that went very well.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You showed a collaborative working relationship, with everyone in agreement as to the best way to proceed.’ Michael fixed her with a questioning look.

‘That’s how it is, Michael.’

‘You’d tell me if it wasn’t.’

‘Of course. This is too important—’ Thea broke off as a reporter with a camera appeared right in front of them.

‘Can I have a picture?’

‘Delighted. You’re from …?’ Suddenly Lucas was there, and it seemed that the camera was no longer pointing her way. Thea realised that she’d instinctively taken a few steps back, shrinking from the lens, and that Lucas had put himself in between her and the cameraman.

‘The local paper. You commented on our article.’