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The surgery and recovery Adao required was a step-by-step process. And they weren’t anywhere near rehab. No point in popping on rose-colored glasses at this stage. Whether she liked it or not, Adao had a long road of recovery ahead of him, and the first step was the operating table. Finn’s operating table.
“You got the order right,” Finn said. “Life first.”
And that was the simple truth of the matter.
Naomi didn’t respond verbally. But the pursed lips followed by a swift inhalation told him all he needed to know. She knew the facts as well as she did. She just didn’t like them.
“C’mon.” He steered her, one hand pressed to the small of her back, toward Adao’s room. “All the basics should be taken care of right now. How ’bout you sit in while I talk Adao through his first twenty-four hours here at Hope?”
If she was surprised, Naomi masked it well. If she noticed he dropped his hand from her back about as quickly as he’d put it there, she made no sign of it either. As if the moment had never happened.
The tingling in his fingers spoke a different story. When he’d touched her? That flame in his core had tripled in size.
* * *
Leaning against the doorframe, having refused Finn’s invitation to join him, Naomi had to silently admit the truth.
She was impressed.
As cranky and gruff as Finn was with her...with Adao?...he was gentle, calm and capable of explaining some incredibly complicated facts in a way that didn’t patronize or confuse. When Adao spoke or asked questions, she recognized the same lilting accent she’d acquired when learning English from American missionaries or aid workers. Hers, of course, was softened by years in the UK and was now predominantly British English. His was still raw—lurching between the musical cadence of his mother tongue and wrestling with all the new English words.
“We can go over all of this again,” Finn was saying, “whenever you want. But the main thing is we’re here to help. Okay, little man? Anything you need?”
Adao shook his head now, his small head and shoulders propped up on the big white pillows. He was a collection of bandages with little bits of his brown skin peeking out at intervals. And his eyes...those big brown eyes rimmed with tears...spoke volumes.
Fear. Bewilderment. Loneliness.
He nodded at Finn but said nothing.
She got that.
The silence.
Admitting there was something or someone you missed so much you thought your heart might stop beating was as good as admitting a part of you wished it would. And despite the anxiety creasing his sweet little brow, she also saw fight in him. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.
She ached to go to him. Be by his side. Tell him all the things she wished she had been told when she’d arrived in the UK. That these were good people. And while they weren’t family...
Her eyes unexpectedly misted over as Finn and Adao did a big fist, little fist bump.
You couldn’t ever replace family. Could you?
Finn crossed to her.
“I think it’s time we let him get some rest.” Finn tipped his head toward the staffroom. “His minder from the charity is just getting some coffee. She’ll stay with him tonight. The chair in the corner converts to a bed, so...we’d best leave him to settle in quietly.” He gave her a weighted look. “As you suggested.”
Nothing like having your own words come back to bite you in the bum.
He was right, of course. And Adao was in the best possible place. But leaving the little boy was tugging at a double-wide door to her heart she’d long jammed shut. It felt wrong.
“Now,” Finn mouthed, when the woman from the charity appeared from round the corner and Naomi’s gaze inevitably skidded back in Finn’s direction as if he were some sort of homing beacon. It was madness, considering Finn Morgan was the last set of arms she’d throw herself into if she needed comforting. It would be like skipping up to a hungry grizzly bear and asking if he minded if they shared a den. Not. Going. To. Happen.
He had his hand on her elbow and was filling up the rest of the space in the doorframe.
There it was again. That cotton and forest scent. And something extra. She looked up into his slate-colored eyes as if they would give her the answer she needed.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage when it did.
That other scent?
Pure male heat.
* * *
Naomi scooped her keys off the ground for a second time.
What had got into her?
She blew out a slow breath, waited until the cloud dissipated, then put the key in the lock and turned it.
See? There.
All she needed to do was blank any thoughts of Finn Morgan and—Doh!
There went the keys again. At least she was inside this time.
She jogged up the stairs to her flat, opened the interior door, flicked on the lights and popped her keys into the wooden bowl that rested on the small table she had at the front door.
Home.
She grinned at it.
The studio flat was dinky, but she loved it. Her cocoon. A twenty-minute walk from the hospital. Fifty if she took a run along the river on the way, which, let’s face it, was every day. Going to the river had become a bit of a pilgrimage. If only one day she would come back from the river and find everything was—
If only nothing.
She toed off her trainers—against her own advice!—and pushed her door shut with her elbow.
Brightly lit. Simply furnished. Secure. Two floors above a bookshop/coffee shop that catered to students and, as such, was open all night. All the things she needed to get to sleep at night.
She shrugged out of her padded gilet then pulled her hoodie, her long-sleeved T-shirt and her wool camisole off, all but diving into her flannel jimjams that she’d laid out on the radiator when she’d left in the morning.
The one thing about England she’d failed to get used to was the cold. This winter was particularly frigid. Rumors of a white Christmas were swirling around the hospital like...like snowflakes.
She gave herself a wry grin in the bathroom mirror as she let warm water run over her freezing fingers. At least the sub-zero temperatures helped keep her heart on ice.
She shivered, thinking of that hot, intense flare of heat she’d seen in Finn’s normally glacial gaze.
Did it mean that he...? No. The man was like a snapping turtle. Don’t do this. Do that. Not here. There. Me right. You wrong.
She thought of his athletic build, his bear-like presence. Maybe he was more... Abominable Snowman than snapping turtle. Could one make love to a yeti?
She gave her head a shake. Clearly she’d lost a few brain cells on the cold walk home. Even if Finn wrapped a ribbon round his heart and handed it to her on a velvet cushion... Pah-ha-ha-ha! Can youimagine?
She tugged on her wool-lined slipper boots, padded across to her tiny strip of a kitchen and opened the fridge.
Yup! Forgot to go shopping. Again.
She stared at the handful of condiments she’d bought in yet another failed moment of “I’ll invite someone over” and wondered what it would be like to open up her fridge and know that she’d be making a meal for herself and her family. She closed the refrigerator door along with the thoughts.
Being in a relationship wasn’t on the cards for her. Each time she’d tried...whoomp. Up had gone the shields holding court round her heart.
She laughed into the silence of her flat.
At last! She’d found something she and Finn had in common.
Now all she had to do was find a way to get along.
CHAPTER FOUR (#uffe204dc-f5ae-5a10-8de3-84d70b9da438)
“DID YOU MANAGE to get some sleep?” Finn looked over at Adao’s case worker from the charity when all he elicited from the little boy was an uncertain mini-shrug.
“He slept a little.” She gave the boy’s creased forehead a soothing stroke with the backs of her fingers before crossing to him and holding out a sheaf of paperwork. “I’m Sarah Browning, by the way. I’m afraid we’re short-staffed and I’ve got to get a move on.” Her features creased apologetically.
Finn nodded and took the paperwork. “Not a problem. We’ve got plenty of folk who are looking forward to spending time with this little guy. Myself included.” He looked over at Adao for any sign of emotional response.
Nothing.
Hardly surprising considering what he’d been through. It was a shame the charity’s financial reach couldn’t have extended to bringing at least one of the family members over. Then again...from what he’d read prior to the boy’s arrival, both the mum and dad worked and his teenage sister was still in school, so...not easy to uproot an entire family.
He slapped the papers against his thigh. Too loudly, from the sharp look the charity worker sent him.
“Right.” Finn gave Sarah his best stab at a smile. “Looks like you need to get a move on and I need to assess Adao before we get him into surgery this afternoon.”
He went to the doorway and called to the small team of doctors and nurses who would be in surgery with him. “Righto, mateys. Let’s get a move on, shall we?” A twinge of déjà vu hit him as the team moved toward the door as one solid mass. Naomi had been right. Too many people standing around Adao might render the kid less responsive than he already was.
“Hey, mate.” He looked Adao in the eye. “We’ve got a bunch of people who are going to come in, but they’re all here to help you, yeah? We’re all on your side.”
The little boy pursed his lips and then nodded. He understood. He didn’t like it. But it wasn’t exactly as if he was in a position to argue.
Finn’s heart went out to the little man, but he needed to keep his cool. Clean, clear precision was what was required when he stepped into surgery today. Anything less wasn’t acceptable.
Finn went out into the corridor as the team crowded into the smallish room to hear the details of Adao’s case and help set up a battle plan for the afternoon’s surgery.
Battle plan.
The cruel irony of it...
He heard a laugh and his eyes snapped to the nurses’ station. The hairs on his arms prickled to attention and a deep punch of heat rocket-launched itself exactly where it didn’t belong.
Dammit.
Last night’s gym session clearly hadn’t drilled his body’s organic response to her out of his system.
Who knew a woman’s scent could linger in the physio gym hours after she’d left the hospital?
He did, that’s who. He didn’t know if she wore perfume or body spray or what...he just knew that jasmine and vanilla were forever lost to him as plain old smells now.
“Mr. Morgan? I was wondering if I could have a quick word.”
“Yes?” Grabbing his work tablet from the counter, he looked back up at her then instantly regretted it. Those dark eyes of hers were blinking away his brusque greeting as her hands rose to tug on each of her loosely woven, below-the-shoulder plaits.
They made her look fun.
And sexy as hell.
“Hi. Um...hello.” Naomi stepped behind the high counter of the nurses’ station, putting a physical buffer between them.
So she felt it too. Or was avoiding the “back off” daggers he was sending her way.
Fair enough. He’d hardly been Prince Charming last night. Or the day before that. Or...yup. Patterns. He saw it, but she messed with his focus and he didn’t like his highly honed “this way trouble lies” vibes being messed with.
“What is it? I’ve got the team waiting for the pre-surgery assessment.”
“I...um...” Something flickered in those dark brown eyes of hers. Had he ever noticed they were flecked with gold?
Yeah. Just like she’d probably noticed his eyes were flecked with amber when the sun hit them. Not. Can it, Romeo. Those days are over.
“You coming in to listen or is the idea to break up the assessment mid-flow with more of your touchy-feely stuff?”
Why are you being such an ass?
Naomi’s dark irises flashed with disbelief at his narky question. Even the ward sister shot him a sharp look. Great. Just what he needed. More fodder for the nurses to continue the tar-and-feather job they no doubt had begun in the break room.
And it was deserved.
All of it.
If Naomi turned on her heel and marched straight up to HR to report him, he wouldn’t blame her.
He was at war with himself and no one was coming out the victor. His body wanted one thing, his head wanted another. His heart was being yanked from side to side and therein lay the crux of the matter.
Good thing he didn’t do feelings. Or poetry, for that matter. Ode to a smashed-up, battered heart didn’t have much of a ring to it.
To his surprise, and the charge nurse’s, Naomi shook her head and gave him a gentle smile. “No, no. Please. Go ahead. I’m here to listen.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Fine.” Then he turned and walked into Adao’s room.
* * *
