“I was, but I can see you’re busy.”
“Just taking a short breather between patients. What was it you wanted?”
She glanced at him, her eyes meeting his for a mere second. “Is Isla scheduled to see you this week?”
Isla Delamere was one of his colleagues as well as a friend.
“Yes, did you want to be there for her appointment?”
Her chin edged up in a way he was coming to recognize. “I’d planned to be. She’s my patient as well.”
Okay, he’d gotten a rise out of her, but not quite the kind he’d been hoping for.
He moved ahead of her and planted himself in her path before she could reach the door to the staff lounge. Why he was bothering he had no idea, but something in him wanted to knock down a block or two of that icy wall she surrounded herself with. “Listen, Dr. Green—Darcie—I know we got off on the wrong foot somehow, but can we hit the reset button? We have three weeks of our rotation left. I’d like to make them pleasant ones, if at all possible. What do you say?”
The tight lines in her face held firm for another moment, and he wondered if she was going to strike him dead for daring to use her first name. Then her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. “I think I might be able to manage that.” The corners of her mouth edged up, creating cute little crinkles at the outer edges of her eyes. “If we both try very hard.”
Something in Lucas’s chest shifted, and a tightening sensation speared through his gut. Had he ever seen the woman smile? Not that he could remember, and certainly never at him. The transformation in her face was…
Incredible.
He swallowed. That was something he was better off not thinking about.
Three weeks. He just had to get through the rest of this rotation. From what he understood, Dr. Green had only been seconded to MMU for a year, then she’d head back to England. He did some quick calculations. She had, what…three months left? Once their rotation was over she’d be down to two, which meant it was doubtful they’d be paired together again. He gave an internal fist pump, trying to put his whole heart into it. It came off as less than enthusiastic.
Because you still have these three weeks to get through.
He gave her another smile. “I think I can manage it as well.”
“Well, good. Now that that’s settled, when is Isla’s appointment?”
He checked his schedule. “Next Wednesday at two.”
Darcie pulled her phone out and scrolled through a couple of screens before punching some buttons. “I don’t have anyone scheduled at that time, so I’ll be there.” She gave him another smile—a bit wider this time—and the wobble in his chest returned. And this time he noticed the crinkles framed eyes that were green. A rich velvety color. Sparkling with life.
Her lips were softer too than they had been earlier. Pink, delicate, and with just a hint of shine.
The tightening sensation spread lower, edging beneath his waistband.
What the hell? Time to get out of here.
“Great. See you later.” He turned and started back the way he had come, only to have her voice interrupt him.
“Don’t forget to call for a consult if anything unusual comes up.”
He stiffened at the prim tone. “Yes, I know the protocol, thank you.”
When she didn’t respond, he turned around and caught something…hurt?…in the depths of those green eyes, and maybe even a hint of uncertainty. In a flash, though, it winked out, taking with it any trace of her earlier smile and, very possibly, their newborn peace accord.
While that bothered him on a professional level, it was what he’d seen in her expression in that unguarded moment that made him want to cross over to her and try to understand what was going on in her head. He didn’t. Instead, he chose to reiterate his comment in a less defensive way. “I’ll ring if I need you.”
Then he walked away. Without looking back. Praying the next weeks sped by without him having to make that call.
That man should wear a lab coat. A long one.
Darcie tried not to stare at the taut backside encased in dark jeans as he made his way back down the hall, but it was hard. No matter how much she tried to look anywhere but there, her peripheral vision was still very much engaged, keeping track of him until he finally turned down a neighboring corridor.
The thread of hurt from his curt response still lingered, just waiting for her to tug on it and draw it tighter. Why had he acted so put out to have her assistance on a case?
Was it the professional rivalry that sometimes went on between midwives and obstetricians?
She sagged against the wall, pressing her fingers against her temples and rubbing in slow, careful circles to ward off the migraine that was beginning to chomp at the wall of her composure.
What was it about Lucas that put her on edge?
The fact that he was a man in a field dominated by women?
Or was it the fact that all the expectant mums who came through the doors clamored to be put on his patient list? Despite the run-ins they’d had over the past nine months, Senior Midwife Lucas seemed quite capable of doing his job with an ease and efficiency that only enhanced his good looks.
And they were good.
She tried to dredge up an unflattering image, like the time he’d come in late for work, dragging his fingers through his wavy hair, his rumpled clothes the same ones he’d had on when he’d left the previous afternoon. Nope. He’d been just as attractive then as the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
Ugh. She disliked him for that most of all.
Or maybe it was all those secretive phone calls she’d caught him making when he’d thought he’d been alone. Oh, those were definitely over the top. So many of them, right in the middle of his shift.
And he wondered why she was outraged when he came in late or took little side breaks to indulge in whispered conversations.
Could she be jealous?
She straightened in a flash. No! Just because Robert had decided she wasn’t enough “fun”, it didn’t mean she should go ballistic over any man who wanted to indulge in a bit of pillow talk on the phone.
Maybe it wouldn’t bother her so much if he didn’t use the same flirty tones when in conversation with the MMU staff and his patients. The tone he turned on this “Cora” person—a kind of I’m-not-willing-to-commit-but-I-still-want-you-at-my-beck-and-call attitude that grated on Darcie’s nerves. Especially after the way her ex had led her down the rosy path, only to dump her for her maid of honor—who, actually, was a lot of fun to be with.
She sighed and went into the lounge to get a strong cuppa that she hoped would relieve the steady ache in her head and keep it from blooming into something worse.
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,”