As soon as she moved into the space, she knew it was a mistake. Lucas, it seemed, was the main topic of conversation among the cluster of four nurses inside.
“I swear one of his patients this morning had on false eyelashes. While in labor!” Marison Daniels blinked rapidly, as if trying to imitate what the woman had done. They all laughed.
If Darcie had hoped to slide by them, grab her tea and tiptoe back out of the room unseen, that hope was dashed when the nurse next to Marison caught Darcie’s eye and gave the jokester a quick poke in the ribs with her elbow. The laughter ceased instantly.
Oh, Lord. Her face burned hotter than the kettle she’d just switched on.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t interrupt,” Marison assured her. “I was just headed back to the ward.”
The others all echoed the same thing.
With a scurry of feet and tossing of rubbish, the four headed out.
Just what she needed. To be reminded that she was still very much an outsider when it came to certain things—like being allowed to let her hair down with the rest of them.
No, the pattern had been set from the moment she’d got off the plane. Oh, she’d made friends and people were nice enough, but to let her in on their little jokes? That didn’t happen very often, except with Isla.
Worse, she’d even overheard Lucas making fun of her English accent while on one of his phone calls to Cora. It hadn’t been in a mean way, he’d just repeated some of her colloquialisms with a chuckle, but it made her feel self-conscious any time she opened her mouth around him. So she made sure she spoke to him as little as possible. And now that they were sharing a rota, she was still struggling to maintain that silence.
Not that it was going to be possible forever.
She could still picture the confident way he strode through the hallways of the ward, his quick smile making itself known whenever he met a patient. She wrinkled her nose. More than one expectant mum would have probably given her left ovary to bat long sexy lashes and claim the child she was carrying was Lucas Elliot’s.
Including his current paramour, Cora?
Probably, but not her. She was done with men like him.
Her fiancé had been handsome and attentive. Until he hadn’t been. Until he’d grown more and more distracted as their engagement had progressed.
Now she knew why.
And Lucas had Cora. She was not about to smile and flirt with a man who was taken. She wasn’t Tabitha.
She packed leaves into the tea ball and dropped it into a chunky mug—a gift from her dad to remind her that her favorite footballers resided in England and to not let herself get swept away by a handsome face, especially one who lived halfway round the world.
Lucas’s quirked brow swam before her eyes, and she let out an audible groan, even as she poured boiling water into her cup. No matter how good looking he was or how elated she’d been to see the momentary confusion cross his expression when she’d smiled at him, she did not need to become like False-Eyelash Lady—the one Marison had carried on about.
There’d be a real corker of a reaction if someone caught her mooning after him. Or staring after him, like she’d done earlier.
She bounced her tea ball in the water and watched as the brew grew darker and darker, just like her thoughts. What she needed was to stay clearheaded. Like he’d said, they had three more weeks together.
He wanted them to be pleasant ones. She finished adding milk and sugar to her cup and then discarded the used tea leaves, rinsing the ball and leaving it on a towel for the next person who needed it.
“Pleasant” she could do, but that had to be the extent of it. Maybe she should be grateful for all those calls to Cora…maybe she should even hope the relationship stayed the course. At least for the next few weeks.
Which meant she would not go out of her way to put him at ease or cut him any slack if he came in late again. Neither would she give the man any reason to look at her with anything other than the casual curiosity his eyes normally held.
And once those three weeks were up?
Life would go back to the way it had been before they’d found themselves joined at the hip.
Joined at the hip. She gave a quick grin. That was one place she and Lucas would never be joined, even if the idea did create a layer of warmth in her belly. But it was not going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
With that in mind, she took a few more sips of the sweet milky brew, then, feeling fortified and ready to face whatever was out there, she headed off to see her next patient in what was proving to be a very interesting morning.
FELIX WASN’T AT HOME.
Arms loaded with items for their dinner, Lucas set everything down in the kitchen. “Where is he?”
Chessa, the childminder, shrugged and said in a quiet voice, “He went out an hour ago, saying he needed to buy prawns, and hasn’t come back yet.”
Damn. “And where’s Cora?”
“Outside with Pete.” The young woman’s brow creased. “Should I be worried? He’s been good for the last few weeks, but he did put some bottles of ale in the fridge. I haven’t seen him drink anything, though.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your job to watch him. If he ever fails to come home before you’re supposed to leave, though, call me so I can make sure Cora is taken care of.”
“I would never leave her by herself, Mr. Elliot.” The twenty-five-year-old looked horrified.
“I know you wouldn’t. I just don’t want you to feel you have to stay past your normal time.”
The sliding door opened and in bounded Pete the Geek in a flash of brown and white fur, followed closely by Cora, whose red face said they’d been involved in some sort of running game. The dog came over and sat in front of him, giving a quick woof.
Lucas laughed and reached in his pocket for a treat. “Well, you’re learning.”
He and Cora had been working on teaching Pete not to leap on people who walked through the door. By training him to sit quietly in front of visitors, they forestalled any muddy paw prints or getting knocked down and held prisoner by an overactive tongue. The trick seemed to be working, although if the tail swishing madly across the tile floor was any indication, Pete was holding himself in check with all his might.
Kind of like him when Darcie had smiled at him as he’d left the hospital?
Good thing he had more impulse control than Cora’s dog.
Or maybe Darcie was training him as adeptly as Cora seemed to be training Pete.
“He wants his treat, Uncle Luke.”
Realizing he’d been standing there like an idiot, he tossed the bacon-flavored bit to Pete and then bent down to pet him. “I think he’s gained ten kilos in the last week.”
He squatted and put an arm around both his niece and her dog.
Cora kissed him on the cheek, her thin arms squeezing his neck. “That’s just silly. He doesn’t weigh that much.”
“No?” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, grimacing when Pete gave his own version of a kiss, swiping across his eyebrow and half his eye in the process. “Okay, enough already.”
He couldn’t hold back his smile, however, despite the niggle