Tempted By Collection

Tom glanced through the notes, keeping his face unreadable. This man had been drinking, another idiot who thought he could get behind the wheel of his car and drive? What would it take before these people realised how much they were endangering others as well as themselves?

‘Was anyone else hurt at the scene?’

The paramedic shook his head. ‘No. But he came close. Those kids were lucky their mother saw him coming and got them out of the way.’

Kids?

An anger began to simmer within him. He gave a quick nod of thanks to the ambulance team as they took their equipment and left.

His team were already working. Naomi was getting venous access, whilst another doctor was doing a fast scan of the patient’s abdomen and another was taking blood-pressure readings.

The X-ray technicians arrived and took pictures of the man’s chest and pelvis and Tom ordered pain medication whilst they waited for the results.

Derek had been lucky. Nothing was broken. His wrist was most probably sprained. The only attention he needed was to his scalp, where there was a wound that was deep enough to need stitches, not glue.

Naomi fetched Tom a suturing kit and some sterile gloves and set up a small station on a metal trolley, so that he could work. But first, she cleaned the patient’s wound and irrigated it. There was still some airbag dust in and around the wound. At this moment in time, they had no idea how old the patient’s car was. If it was an older vehicle, the dust would contain sodium azide, which they definitely didn’t want to be embedded in a wound. It was better to be safe, rather than sorry.

‘Is that okay?’ Naomi asked Derek, noticing he was wincing slightly as she worked.

‘It hurts. Can’t I get some anaesthetic?’

‘Dr Williams will do that for you.’

‘How long’s that going to take?’

‘Do you need to be somewhere?’

‘My brother’s getting married.’

She put aside the used swabs and grabbed a fresh one to dry the patient’s face and around his ear. ‘What time?’

‘Three o clock.’

‘You’ve plenty of time.’

Tom washed his hands in the sink. It was his job, but dealing with people like Derek still angered him. He’d recklessly endangered others and Tom couldn’t help but think that someone like this man had been responsible for killing the love of his life. Derek had been lucky today in more ways than one. He’d had a crash and avoided major injury to himself, but more importantly he hadn’t hurt anyone else. Although it sounded like it had been close. It seemed that it was only down to a mother’s due diligence that the children had not been hurt.

Would Derek be grumbling about time issues if he’d killed a child?

Tom wiped his hands dry on a paper towel and then turned to pick up the sterile gloves and put them on.

‘Hey, Doc, give me the good stuff, yeah? I’m not good with pain.’

Tom wondered who was. He reckoned the physical pain this man was experiencing now was nothing compared to the kind of pain that Tom had gone through. He made no reply but picked up the vial of anaesthetic so he could draw it into the syringe.

He was aware that Naomi was frowning, watching him, confused by his silence, but he had no time to explain it all at this moment. And there was no way in hell he was going to explain it in front of this idiot!

Once he’d got the measurement right, he leaned over the patient to examine the now-cleaned wound and find the best place to insert the anaesthetic. ‘This will sting,’ he said, finding a tiny modicum of satisfaction when Derek winced and flinched.

‘Whoa, Doc!’

He inserted the needle again in another spot and then another, before removing his gloves and going back to the sink to wash his hands. ‘That will take a moment.’ He looked at Naomi. ‘I’ll just add the meds to his notes.’

She followed him over to his desk. ‘Are you okay? You seem...distracted. Is the gossip still bothering you?’

He looked at her askance. He hadn’t given the gossip a moment’s notice. ‘No.’

‘It’s just that you don’t seem...happy.’

‘Well, why would I be?’ He marched back over to the patient and washed his hands in the sink once again before putting on another pair of gloves. He didn’t notice the odd look Naomi gave him before she left. All he could think about was how to keep his cool whilst dealing with this patient.

Naomi found Jackie in the sluice room, emptying a bedpan.

‘Hey, Naomi. What’s up?’ Jackie was in her usual good mood today.

‘Nothing.’

Jackie closed the lid to the machine that disposed of the cardboard pans and pressed the button to activate the mulcher. ‘Tell your Aunty Jackie. Come on!’

Naomi shrugged and fiddled with the boxes of gloves on the shelf beside her. ‘Dr Williams is acting odd. More so than usual.’

‘Lovers’ tiff?’ Jackie cackled at her own joke but, seeing her friend’s reaction to it, stopped abruptly. ‘Oh, yeah, that’s right. You two are all “above board”.’ She wiggled her fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

‘We are. Flatmates plain and simple.’

‘It could be that latest case? The drunk driver?’

‘Why would that bother him? We work in A&E; we see drunks all the time.’

Jackie shook her head. ‘We do, that’s true, but...well, you’d really need to ask him.’

‘But I suppose everyone else knows about it?’

‘Pretty much. I would have thought you’d know, you’ve lived with him for a month! Why don’t you ask him? If you dare. He’s been a lot more prickly lately. I’m not sure I’d want to poke that wasp hive.’

Naomi sank back against the racks. ‘You’re telling me.’

‘I think you’d get away with it.’

She frowned. ‘Why?’

Jackie washed her hands, then dried them. ‘Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’

That evening, Tom gave her a lift home. He didn’t say much in the car and she sensed he had a lot on his mind. Least of all the fact that he had a lodger that he’d never wanted in the first place.

But when they got to the flat and they both had changed, she watched as Tom came out of his room and went over to the piano, looking pensive. His fingertips touched the top of the sleek black instrument and he let them drift across the surface.

Was he thinking about his wife? He’d told Naomi he had only ever played it for her. Was that case with the drunk driver today somehow connected? And if so, how?

She opened the fridge, looking for inspiration for their evening meal, but there was hardly anything in there. ‘I think we need to go to the supermarket.’

Tom looked over to where she stood in the kitchen. ‘I’m not sure I feel like that tonight.’

‘I don’t mind going. Tell me what you’d like and I’ll fetch it,’ she offered.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and came over to her. ‘Do you like seafood?’

‘Love it. Why?’

‘Then I know a perfect little place.’

The Phoenix was a floating restaurant on the River Thames. It consisted of a beautiful wide yacht with a white hull, a phoenix rising from the ashes painted on the aft.

Naomi hadn’t really known what to expect. Certainly, when Tom had suggested that he knew a restaurant they could go to, she’d expected somewhere on dry land. She hadn’t known these sorts of things existed, and had had no idea how she ought to dress. In the end, she’d settled on a summery dress, mainly white but with small pink tea roses on it, and then a white shawl for her to wrap around her shoulders.

Tom had given her a nod of approval when she’d emerged from her room and she’d noted his dashing choice of simple black trousers and a tailored white shirt. He looked very handsome, so much so that her stomach had begun to flip and twirl with nervousness and her heart rate had gone up a few notches. She’d hoped she wasn’t getting those ugly red blotches on her neck and chest, which was what usually happened when she got nervous, but if she had looked flushed, he didn’t mention it.

He’d called a taxi to take them to the restaurant and when they arrived, she’d gasped in awe and surprise at the beautiful fairy lights that lit up the boat and along the gangplank.

Now, she felt Tom’s hand at the small of her back as he guided her safely on board.

‘Table for two. Williams.’

The maître d’ checked his guest list, then escorted them to a table up on the top deck, under a canopy. Across the water, Naomi could see the Houses of Parliament all lit up and the London Eye and although there was a small chill in the air, she didn’t feel it. All she felt was excitement.

She had never been somewhere like this. She had never been on a date like this! When she’d met Vincent, it had been in the hospital and she’d known from the beginning what she would be getting into. The only dates she and Vincent had been on were hospital appointments and the occasional drive to a local pub with disabled access. Certainly nothing like this!

She settled into her seat as they were handed the menu. There was a huge selection of seafood dishes: sea bass with lemon capers, a spicy salmon tikka, chilli prawns or a simpler, steamed fish served with vegetables. She decided to go for the prawn starter, the seafood kebab for her main and strawberry cheesecake for dessert.

‘Excellent choice,’ Tom said, before turning to the waiter. ‘I’ll have the same.’

The waiter bowed and then disappeared.

Naomi smiled. ‘This seems lovely. Thank you for bringing me here.’

‘Not at all. You’ve been cooking so much this week, it’s about time you had an evening off.’

‘To give the fire alarm a rest, you mean?’

He smiled back and took a sip of his water.

The wine that Tom had ordered, a nice Sauvignon Blanc, arrived. He tested it, giving his approval, and it was poured into both their glasses.

‘Have you been here before?’ Naomi asked. She wanted to know if he’d been here with his wife. If he had, she didn’t think she would mind.

‘No. I haven’t. It was recommended to me by a colleague.’

‘It was a difficult day, today, wasn’t it?’

His gaze met hers. ‘How do you mean?’

She hesitated, not wanting to spoil the evening right at the start, but also curious to know what had happened in his past. ‘On a personal level. That drunk driver.’

Tom sipped his wine and looked out over the water. He seemed to be looking for something. After a moment or two, his gaze returned to her. ‘I guess people at work have told you what happened to Meredith?’

She shook her head. ‘No. They haven’t.’

He seemed surprised, but before he could say any more their chilli prawns arrived. He thanked the waiter and, when he’d gone, he looked back into Naomi’s eyes. ‘She was killed. By a drunk driver.’

‘Oh, no, I’m so sorry, Tom.’ She reached out and laid her hand on his. This was the type of person she was. She touched people. She let them know that she understood. His hand under hers felt warm and she wrapped her fingers around his palm. ‘If you’d rather I changed the subject...?’

He didn’t pull his hand away. But she did see the way he stared down at their hands upon the table. He looked pained. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Tell me about her. I’d like to know who she was.’

His lined brow grew less furrowed and a small light came into his eyes. ‘We met at the hospital and she dazzled me from day one. She was this bright, breezy individual, a fantastic nurse, and we just hit it off. I’d rib her about how she’d eat junk food for breakfast on her way into work and she’d joke with me about being a health fanatic just because I’d eaten a banana or something.’

Naomi smiled.

‘She called me the health freak, but she was the one who went jogging every day, no matter what the weather.’

‘She sounds dedicated.’

‘She was. She was jogging on the day she died. She used to wear headphones and listen to music. The driver mounted the kerb and hit her. She wouldn’t have heard a thing. Or even have felt it. Or so the paramedics said.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ She truly meant it. She gave his hand another squeeze and he squeezed back, looking distant for a moment, then he smiled.

‘Better eat your prawns, before they get cold.’

The prawns were beautiful. They were buttery and spicy, fat and plump with a hint of garlic and paprika. The freshly baked crusty bread was perfect to help mop up the juices and, when they’d finished, the waiter brought over some finger bowls so they could rinse their fingers.

‘That was delicious, thank you,’ she told the waiter, who smiled as he cleared their plates.

London at night, on the river, looked beautiful. Naomi had done all the essential touristy things when she’d first arrived, but that had been during the day. Going for a ride on the London Eye had been a treat and she’d looked out over the new city in which she would be living in awe. People came for miles to see this, to experience this. Now here she was seeing it all in a new light and with a great friend by her side.

Because Tom was her friend. She felt they had reached that point now. He was her boss too of course and her landlord, technically, but over time they’d grown quite close. They’d been working together, living together, sharing meals, sharing a bathroom. She felt she understood him a bit better.

She remembered how when they’d first met, he’d been very standoffish. He’d been prickly and not friendly at all, but then he’d taken her in, making a grand gesture that she truly appreciated. She’d also watched him at work and seen him as the professional, caring, hardworking doctor. And at home he’d become her friend and her cooking instructor! In what seemed like very little time, she’d learnt so much from him in so many ways and now they were here, on this wonderful boat, and she wondered briefly if it was representative of their changing relationship.

She raised her glass for a toast. ‘To Meredith.’

Surprise crossed Tom’s face and then his expression changed to one of appreciation. He raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers. ‘And to new friends.’

‘New friends.’ She sipped her wine, feeling the gentle fruity flavours wash away the heat of the spicy prawns. This was nice. She was enjoying being here with him. This side of Tom was much, much better than the first side that she’d seen.

The waiter arrived with their main course, which was seafood skewers of monkfish, scallop and salmon, drizzled in a cauliflower sauce, served with buttered carrots and broccoli florets.

They tucked in with gusto, relishing the way the sauce truly brought out the flavours of the fish, until all too soon both their plates were empty. Naomi laughed. ‘Is this a sign that my cooking hasn’t been as great as I’ve thought? Have you been secretly starving, Tom?’

He smiled back at her. ‘Your food has been delicious.’

‘Even the blackened bits?’

‘Even those. I think these celebrity chefs are missing a trick there. Carbonisation of food adds a certain je ne sais quoi.’

‘Now I know you’re lying!’

Tom laughed. ‘Living with you has been an eye-opening experience.’

‘Why, thank you!’ She met his gaze and held it, seeing his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘So has living with you.’

‘Oh?’

‘I would never have pegged you for a cook.’

‘Really? Why not?’

‘You seem...’ She tried to find the right words. ‘You seem the kind of guy who would eat out every night. Restaurants, dinner parties, that sort of thing. Whereas I’m a microwave-meal-for-one kind of girl.’

Tom refilled their wine glasses. ‘You mean you’re a homebody?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I am. And I like being that. This is great, too, don’t get me wrong, but I think there’s a lot to be said for staying at home in your pyjamas and eating a bowl of popcorn in front of the television.’

‘You’re absolutely right. Homes are underrated.’

She looked at him. ‘And your home? Do you enjoy being there?’

He pursed his lips momentarily and the action drew her focus. He had such a lovely mouth. A wide smile, good teeth. He didn’t smile often enough, but when he did... It couldn’t fail to make anyone smile with him. ‘I do now.’

She swallowed. Did he mean that he enjoyed being there now that she was there? Perhaps she was no longer the interloper. No longer the unwanted tenant. ‘Really?’

‘Really. I think I’ll miss you, when you leave.’

‘It’ll be quieter, you mean?’ she suggested.

‘It’ll be...emptier.’

She sipped her wine and wondered what he meant by that.

The cheesecake arrived and, on a par with the previous courses, it was absolutely delicious, just as she’d expected. By the time they’d finished eating, Naomi was feeling comfortably full so they had coffee and then Tom suggested a walk along the river.

Naomi wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, glad that she’d brought it. It was a warm evening for early March but the air was slowly getting colder and her shawl wasn’t enough. Tom proffered his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders, and she snuggled into its warm depths. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem.’

She smiled and looked up at him. Suddenly, it occurred to her that he seemed so alone. Not lonely. Alone. A man whose only companion was a grief that he’d carried with him for a long time. She wished she could make it better for him.

‘You know...when I lost Vincent, it was expected. We’d known for months that the end was coming and we both hoped that it would be easier. You know? That we’d have had our chance to say goodbye to each other. Do you find that difficult, Tom? That you never had the opportunity or time to say goodbye? Is that why it still hurts you so much?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe. We’d had so little time together. I think it hurts because...well, because I’d had all these dreams for us—travelling, children—and that future has been taken away.’

She could understand. Her hopes and dreams for a future had been taken from her, too. ‘Perhaps we’ve both got different futures awaiting us. And they may be different from the ones we were expecting, but perhaps they won’t be as bad as we expect.’

He gave a grim laugh. ‘For you, maybe. I’m not planning on getting involved with anyone again, remember? You still believe that there’s another soulmate out there for you, so your future still shines bright with possibility.’

A couple walked towards them, looking so in love, so comfortable with each other. They had their arms around each other, the woman leaning her head against her partner’s shoulder as he kissed the top of her hair. Naomi smiled at them as they walked past.

‘I think there’s someone out there for you, Tom. You’ve just got to look harder.’

She could feel his gaze upon her and she glanced up at him and smiled. She stopped walking for a moment and when he stilled and faced her, she tentatively reached for his hand and grasped it in her own. ‘Promise me, Tom, that you’ll look for her.’

‘I—’

‘I don’t think you should be alone. Not for the rest of your life. That’s a long time to be blind to the possibilities all around you.’

‘You’re very kind, Naomi.’ He pushed back a loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Standing here, holding his hand by the riverside, seemed the right thing to be doing. Their relationship had changed so much and, where once she had been apprehensive around him, she now felt that she cared. That she wanted good things for him, and the idea that he would be alone for the rest of his life...

He was staring down at her, intently.

They were both standing so close to the other that she suddenly became aware of the small space between them, almost as if it were crackling with unseen electricity.

His eyes stared deep into her soul, and it was as if she could feel him searching, see him looking for something within her that only he could find. And he took a step closer.

Naomi sucked in her breath, her lips parting as he came closer. Did she want Tom to kiss her?

Yes. Absolutely.

Suddenly the realisation of how much she wanted to kiss him slammed through her, making its presence felt. It felt as if this, the kiss that was about to happen, was the most obvious thing in the world. As if it were something she had always wanted and wondered about, only she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it, or acknowledge it. Yet here it was and...

It was like everything was happening in slow motion.

Tom was moving closer. His head lowered to hers, their eyes closing as his lips approached hers.

Naomi held her breath, awaiting the touch of his lips, her heart pounding, her breathing fast and shallow. Could he hear her heart? Did he know how much she suddenly wanted this?

But where was the kiss?

She felt his hand pull free of hers and she opened her eyes to see him stand up straight again, wearing an agonised expression of pain and regret. ‘I’m sorry... I can’t...’

It was horrible. She wished she could give him what he needed and ease his pain. Make him feel that there was still a chance of happiness for him.

He began to walk again, waiting for her to follow alongside. ‘I’m sorry, Naomi.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, trying to make him feel better, but inside she felt crushed. She was bitterly disappointed.

It does matter!

Could she really have kissed Tom? She risked a quick glance at him. Yes, he was gorgeous and yes, she liked him. In fact, she liked him a lot, but would kissing him really be wise? Perhaps it was a good thing that he’d paused and thought better of it.

He was her boss, her friend and her flatmate. Kissing him would have simply opened up a whole world of complication that she didn’t need! When she thought about it sensibly, she knew it was probably a bad idea. After all, the man was obviously still in a quagmire of grief, wasn’t he?

He was a man of deep feeling. She knew that. She saw proof of it on a daily basis. Now she had no doubt that if they were to kiss, then Tom would make her feel things that she had never felt before. Vincent, for all his sweetness and vulnerability, had never been an overtly passionate kisser. Their kisses had always been friendly. They had mostly been kisses of greeting, hello and goodbye. Vanilla kisses. Their whole relationship had been about being safe. About being careful and controlled. That was the reason why he’d been such a great husband, and one who she missed dearly.

But had she ever yearned for him? Had she ever been desperate for Vincent’s touch?

No. That wasn’t what their relationship had been based on.

So now? Being here with Tom, feeling the sudden desire to know what his kisses would be like, and where they might lead...

It was terrifying!

But it was also exciting. And a little bit dangerous. She could feel adrenaline zipping through her system like electrical shocks. She felt as if she could run. She felt as if she could achieve anything if she dared.

Except kiss him.

Just because she wanted to do it, it didn’t make it right. Surely this was her worst nightmare. Getting involved with a handsome man, as she’d seen her mother do so many times, only to be used and cast aside later. Because wasn’t that what they all did? Wasn’t that what she had learned? The one thing she had decided upon from a young age was to never get involved with someone that dangerous.

And Tom was the worst kind of dangerous.

He wasn’t free to be loved.

CHAPTER SIX

SHE’D SPENT MOST of last night lying in her bed thinking about the almost-kiss, and sleep had eluded her for a while. She’d expected to wake up feeling tired and awful, but to her surprise she didn’t. Her new mindset had given her the energy and determination to make everything right again.