THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Roman stood as Sadie walked into the small, intimate bar not far from the hospital. His nerves buzzed with excitement. She looked sensational in black jeans and a red top, with silver hoops in her ears.
Brushing a hand down the front of his freshly pressed shirt, he stepped forward to greet her, reminding himself that this wasn’t a date even if they had dressed up for each other. Except his eyes moved over her figure, reacquainting themselves with her pert breasts, her slim waist and the tantalising curve of her hips.
He released a silent groan of frustration, relieved when she spied him, her smile that hesitant one he found so intriguing. Her approving gaze gave him a similar once-over as she walked his way.
It was still there, the undeniable chemistry that had driven them from strangers to lovers.
‘Hi. You look gorgeous,’ he said, using the term she’d applied to him yesterday, outside the theatre staff room.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, catching the scent of her shampoo, briefly closing his eyes against the flood of erotic memories he would need to crush, and fast.
‘Thank you,’ she said as he pulled out her chair before taking the seat opposite. A hint of wariness lingered in her expression; like him, she was nervous. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘No problem.’ He’d made a decision on the way to the bar: he intended to explain to Sadie why he didn’t date beyond casually, why he needed to keep constantly moving, why he could never be truly eligible.
His story wouldn’t be pretty, but would hopefully put Sadie’s mind at ease once and for all, manage expectations between them so they could focus on being friendly colleagues.
Colleagues who needed a fire extinguisher to douse the flames of their chemistry.
The waiter appeared and took their drinks order and then left again.
For a moment, they faced each other in silence across the table for two near the window that Roman had chosen for privacy. It was as if this drink represented a fresh start, and neither of them wanted to put a foot wrong after yesterday’s misunderstandings.
‘I’m sorry—’
‘I wanted to apologise—’
They spoke over each other and then laughed, the tension easing.
‘After you,’ he said, resting his forearms on the table and watching her across the flickering flame of a candle in a jar.
‘I wanted to apologise for yesterday,’ she said, glancing down. ‘I was totally thrown by seeing you again, especially at work.’
Roman nodded, entranced by the way she toyed with her hair, which tonight was an exhilarating tumble of soft waves he wanted to cup to his face and inhale.
‘Me too. I understand and I’m glad we’re being honest. If only we’d talked about our jobs that night in Vienna. I was a locum at the hospital.’
Sadie smiled, rolling her eyes at their foolishness. ‘And I’d attended the Progress in Paediatrics conference that day.’
Roman relaxed. The easy-going, animated Sadie was back, and the sight of her laced his blood with endorphins.
But he couldn’t allow the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled to distract him from his purpose. ‘Listen, Sadie, I feel like I owe you an explanation—I wasn’t entirely open with you that day we met.’
Sadie waved her hand, began shaking her head as if to shut down his apology, but he needed to lay all his cards on the table so they could move on as colleagues. The sexual attraction would fade and, if it didn’t, the physical distance of his next locum position in Ireland would finally cure his obsession.
‘Please let me say this,’ he pleaded.
She stilled, her stare wary once more.
‘I don’t tell everyone I meet my whole story,’ he said, dragging in a shuddering breath, steeling himself as he always needed to in order to speak about his loss, ‘but with you, I think it’s relevant and I want you to know.’
Stricken, she flushed. ‘Roman, you don’t owe me any explanations. In fact, I have something—’
He held up his hand, cutting her off. ‘I want to explain. Please let me. Hopefully you’ll understand me a little better.’
‘Okay,’ she said in a small voice.
The waiter returned with their drinks, the pause giving Roman a few seconds to prepare. No matter how painful to relive, he hoped his confession would finally settle any awkwardness between him and Sadie. She would see that he was the same man she met in Vienna, that he wasn’t romantically pursuing her or anyone else.
That he would always be content to spend Valentine’s Days alone.
‘I was married once,’ he said when the waiter had walked away. He braced for the familiar dull ache in his chest, which varied in intensity depending on how occupied he kept his mind, but never fully disappeared and likely never would.
‘Oh...okay,’ Sadie said, subdued, glancing down at the flickering candle in the centre of their table.
‘My wife died four years ago,’ Roman added, keen to have his part of the conversation over with, as if spewing out the words would lessen their devastating impact.
She looked up. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, horror and compassion in her stare.
Roman shook his head, trying to recall the last time he’d opened up to someone. ‘Since then, I’ve been a bit of a loner—the man you met that night where we were both avoiding Valentine’s Day.’
Her hand covered his on the table between them, instinctively offering comfort.
His body jolted at her touch, the jarring juxtaposition between grief and arousal.
‘I wanted to explain,’ he continued, relieved to see she understood, ‘how I might be game for a one-off dinner date to raise money for a good cause that helps sick children, but I’m not, and never will be, relationship material.’
She started blinking, her frown deepening. ‘You’re grieving,’ she said as if to herself, moisture shining in her eyes. ‘Really, you don’t have to explain further.’
She looked crestfallen, more devastated than he’d expected. Sadie certainly wore her heart on her sleeve. He’d seen glimpses of her compassion for her patients on the ward, where she was a favourite with the kids. But to have that compassion directed his way left him unsettled, a return of the restless energy he’d experienced the night they met.
‘I know, but there’s more.’ He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, sucking in another fortifying breath, confiding in her easy.
‘Okay.’ Sadie nodded, her eyes round with trepidation.
Roman forced out the words a big part of him still struggled to believe could be true. ‘I also had a six-year-old son. He was with my wife in the car the night of the accident. They died together.’
Shock drained the colour from Sadie’s face, one hand squeezing his and her other hand coming up to cover her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, Roman. I don’t even know what to say.’ Tears filled her eyes. She looked bereft.
Roman turned his hand over under hers, palm to palm, the gesture natural after their other intimacies. ‘No need to say anything.’
He smiled a sad smile, not bothering to hide his feelings from this empathetic woman with whom he’d found a surprising connection.
But now she knew his darkest moment.
As she stared into his eyes, Sadie swallowed, visibly struggling to regain her composure.
‘I just wanted to be straight up with you,’ he continued, ‘to avoid any more misunderstandings. Of course, you’re more than a work colleague, although we’re putting our physical relationship behind us.’
She looked away, but not before he witnessed her disappointment.
He too felt the stomach-sinking emptiness. He would struggle to ignore their chemistry. Aside from fierce attraction, he liked and respected Sadie. Opening up to her felt good, brought them closer.
‘So now you know; I’m not a stalker or a liar or a player. Why we had so much in common last year, wanting nothing to do with Valentine’s Day.’ He smiled, worried that his news seemed to have hit Sadie hard.
That she was so affected by his story touched him, but now he wanted to lighten the mood.
‘Of course, I feel the same this year, but what can I say...? I found it very hard to say no to Sammy about the auction. She twisted my arm the first day I arrived.’
‘Yes...that does explain...everything.’ She’d turned pale, seemed agitated, shifting in her chair and tugging at the neck of her sweater.
‘We don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not, but how do you even begin to deal with something like that?’ she asked, her voice a bewildered whisper.
‘Staying away from the memories of my family life in Prague helps,’ he admitted. ‘That’s why locum work suits me. I keep moving, keep my life simple—work, sleep, repeat.’
‘A rolling stone,’ she said, frowning, glancing down at their still-clasped hands.
As if self-conscious that they’d comforted each other in a moment of vulnerability, she slid her hand from his and took a shaky sip of her drink.
‘Thanks for listening,’ he said, hoping to draw a line under the subject while trying not to focus on how cold his hand was without her touch. ‘I hope now we can work together for the next few weeks without any...awkwardness.’
Who knew, maybe they could even be friends? Although how he was going to switch off his attraction to her, he had no clue.
She nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, sat up straighter. ‘Absolutely. That’s what I want, too. Good. Great.’
She didn’t sound certain. She sounded distant again.
‘I’m sorry. My turn to do the listening,’ he said, recalling how she’d invited him for this drink. ‘I interrupted you earlier. You wanted to talk about something?’
He smiled, encouragingly.
She gave a nervous laugh and couldn’t meet his eyes.
His stomach sank. It made no sense. He’d been honest. Cleared the air. Sadie’s bouts of evasiveness brought out his need for control. He’d deliberately kept his life simple these past four years—a coping mechanism. But now he wondered if, physical compatibility aside, he and Sadie would ever again be on the same wavelength.
Sadie’s heart was beating so fast she feared she might pass out, collapse face first onto the candle and singe her hair. But after Roman’s tragic revelation, even that humiliating scenario would be preferable to confessing the real reason she’d invited him there tonight.
How could she tell him about Milly when her news would surely heighten the grief she saw so clearly in his tortured eyes?
He’d lost the people he’d loved the most. Her chest ached from watching him paste on a brave face. She couldn’t cause him any more pain. Sadie’s revelation should be joyous and optimistic, not shrouded in the understandably heartbreaking sadness of this moment.
But would there ever be an appropriate time to break the news that he was already a father again, when he had such compelling reasons to avoid being in that vulnerable position?
Offering him what felt like a watery smile, Sadie trawled her stunned mind for a substitute topic of conversation.
‘I...um...actually wanted to ask you some background questions,’ she said, frantically improvising by taking out her phone. ‘You know, for the fundraiser. I have to write up a biography for your auction, something to get the bidding started. Is that okay?’
The fundraiser. It seemed so trivial now.
‘Of course.’ Roman shrugged in that laid-back way of his, levelling his unwavering gaze on Sadie.
She blinked away the sting of tears, still haunted by Roman’s grief and by what it meant for his relationship with his daughter.
Ever since he’d strode onto Sunshine Ward, Sadie had indulged fantasies of the kind of father he’d make, the kind of relationship he’d have with their baby. Only, considering what she’d just learned, there was no guarantee that he’d want anything to do with Milly and, worse, a part of Sadie would understand why.
How devastating to lose your only child and your partner in the same tragic event. As a new mother, Sadie could only imagine the heartache he’d endured, every parent’s worst nightmare. He hadn’t blithely sworn off relationships and family to enjoy his life free of responsibilities, as she’d assumed. He’d closed himself off to emotional entanglements as a defence mechanism.
That she definitely understood.
Focussed on her phone, Sadie opened the notes app. ‘So what made you choose a career in Paediatrics?’ she asked, pretending to read from a list of prepared questions.
The way he was looking at her, as if his intense stare might be able to read all her secrets, was not only terrifying, it was also leaving her hot and bothered.
How could she possibly be any more attracted to this man?
Except he’d opened up to her, trusted her with his deepest wound. Her hormones were running amok.
‘My uncle is a surgeon in the Czech Republic,’ he said with fondness in his eyes. ‘Growing up, I knew that I wanted to help people. While I was training to be a surgeon I completed a post in paediatric surgery and I loved it.’
His expression became animated. It took a special kind of person to work with sick children. But there must be moments when his work reminded him of his own son. It showed his already impressive dedication and compassion in a whole new and utterly appealing light.
‘I like the variety of the work,’ he continued, the spark in his eyes mesmerising, ‘which is much like the old adult general surgical position that is now becoming obsolete as sub-specialisation grows.’
Sadie nodded, making brief notes on her phone, while every word he spoke embedded in her memory and set her nervous system aflutter. His commitment to paediatrics was seriously compelling and a massive turn-on.
No matter how hard she hoped, their chemistry wasn’t going to just evaporate.
If only there were a way to move past it so she could focus on introducing Roman to Milly. If only it were as simple as resuming a casual fling to get each other out of their systems. But how could she allow herself to embrace the passion she felt simmering below the surface when she still needed to tell him her big secret?
She was trapped in limbo, wanting him but needing to stay objective.
‘And the locum work also provides plenty of variety,’ she said, unsurprised now that he needed to outrun such painful memories by keeping on the move.
The idea of him leaving London, of never seeing him again, hollowed out her stomach for both herself and Milly. Sadie and Grace had a close relationship with both their parents. She’d wanted the same for Milly.
But Roman had no intention of putting down family roots again, and she couldn’t blame him.
‘Until four years ago,’ he continued speaking while Sadie tried to come to terms with the flood of her emotions, ‘I’d never considered leaving Prague. I was lucky.’ The haunted look returned to his stare, and Sadie wished she’d been more careful with her questions.
‘I had it all,’ he said. ‘A job I loved. A loving relationship. A family...’
Then his world had collapsed, a devastating loss from which he might never heal. No wonder he wasn’t looking for love; he’d already found it, was as emotionally unavailable as it came.
A crack split her heart. Her beloved baby might never get the chance to know this good man. His rejection of her precious Milly would sting, no matter how much Sadie understood Roman’s motivation.
Painful memories flashed in her head—her devastating diagnosis, the years of yearning for a child, Mark lobbing blows, one after the other. ‘It’s over. I’ve found someone else. She’s pregnant.’
‘What about you?’ he asked, blind to Sadie’s inner turmoil and feelings of inadequacy, which were shaking her like a rag doll. ‘Did you always want to work with children?’
Sadie looked away, terrified that he’d see the knowledge of his daughter lurking in her eyes. A part of her, that maternal instinct, wanted to fight for Milly, to stand up and say, I feel your pain, but you have a beautiful daughter who deserves to have a father.
‘Not really. I always wanted to be a doctor.’ Sadie cleared her throat, torn between understanding for Roman’s defence mechanisms, and heartache for their innocent baby, who to Sadie had been only a source of extreme joy.
Except it was too late; Milly was already here.
‘I never really thought much about children,’ she continued, lured by Roman’s honesty to lower the guard she’d had in place since her fertility issues and Mark’s cruel betrayal had left her doubting she’d ever again be good enough for a relationship, ‘until I was told that I might never be able to have any of my own.’
Now it was his turn to be shocked, his turn to take her hand.
They really needed to stop touching each other.
‘Then children became all I could think about,’ she said in a rush, her history of infertility all tangled up with her omissions about their miracle daughter.
Offering Roman a sad, ironic laugh, she relived the years spent managing the pain of her diagnosis by refusing to think about the uncertainty of her future. And she’d been doing great at self-acceptance, at living each day as it came, right up to the moment when her ex had changed his mind about wanting children of his own, cheated and made Sadie feel worthless for something out of her control.
Although hadn’t a part of her always known his grand declarations and big dreams and promises had been too good to be true?
Roman frowned, squeezing her fingers. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Sadie.’
Realising that she’d shared a deeply personal detail with a man she was desperately trying to keep at arm’s length, emotionally, she batted away his concern. ‘It’s fine.’
Because of Roman, because of that night in Vienna, she no longer deserved his empathy. She’d been beyond lucky. She’d been gifted Milly. But as tonight proved, living in the moment worked, because the future was horribly uncertain.
‘After that,’ she rushed on, trying not to think how she was withholding one key piece of information, ‘I was drawn to paediatrics. Like you I sidestepped into it and found a rewarding career that I love.’
‘Is that why you’re single? The infertility?’ he asked, his voice soft, his thumb stroking the palm of her hand in the hypnotic way that loosened Sadie’s tongue.
‘Kind of,’ she said, glad that she could at least be honest about one thing. ‘The night I met you was my first Valentine’s Day as a single woman in six years.’
He nodded, urging her to continue, his stare reminding her of the way he’d looked at her that night.
‘My ex denied that my infertility bothered him for the whole time we were together,’ she continued. ‘I’d told him about my diagnosis of POI, primary ovarian insufficiency on our first date. I thought I’d come to terms with it, accepted that I would never have children, but I had a career I loved and a great partner. But his promises were lies. He changed his mind, cheated on me and left.’
Her smile felt brittle, but she forced herself to hold Roman’s stare. She didn’t want his pity. She’d toughened up since then, learned not to take people at face value. If that meant she sometimes expected the worst, that was a small price to pay for her protection.
‘I’m sorry you were so badly betrayed.’ Roman’s eyes turned dark and stormy with repressed emotion. ‘He obviously didn’t deserve you.’
They stared at each other, their hands still clasped, the fragments of their pain scattered all around them like confetti. She hardly knew this man, but they’d shared so much: passion, secrets, the miraculous creation of a life.
Pressure built in Sadie’s chest.
The words Don’t feel too sorry for me because I had your daughter strained the back of her throat, clamouring to be set free.
Instead she whispered, ‘So what now?’
Her fingers were still entwined with his, a reminder of the burning heat of his touch all over her body. A sensible woman would move, but she couldn’t seem to make her hand obey.
How was it possible to feel so close to someone she’d known a matter of days? But as she’d learned from her years spent with Mark, time alone was no guarantee of intimacy.
‘Now we’ve laid everything out in the open, I was going to suggest that we be friends,’ he admitted, still stroking her palm in a way that was far from friendly while the heat in his stare sent darts of arousal pooling in her pelvis.
Except she hadn’t told him everything. She was holding back the most important fact.
‘But I think we should acknowledge our ongoing chemistry,’ he said, staring into her eyes as if she fascinated him, as if he couldn’t look away, as if some lonely, broken part of him recognised the same in Sadie, ‘which kind of complicates things.’
‘It does,’ she agreed, the rush of blood to her head dizzying.
His eyes blazed at her admission. ‘I can’t deny that when I saw you at the hospital I envisaged us getting to know each other better while I’m in London, perhaps going out on a few casual dates, because now you understand why I’m not interested in dating anyone seriously.’
Because he was still grieving, still in love with his wife.
Sadie nodded, her head woolly with guilt and confusion, her heart aching with dashed hope and irrational disappointment. ‘I totally understand.’
Except she wished it could be different, for Milly’s sake, and perhaps for her own, too.
Then another thought occurred. The auction!
‘Listen, I’d be happy to talk to Sammy, to persuade her to find someone else to volunteer to be our eligible doctor. You shouldn’t feel coerced or uncomfortable. After all, it’s just a silly fundraiser and not important in the grand scheme of things.’
‘Look at you, protecting my honour.’ He smiled and Sadie’s heart skipped a beat.
He shook his head. ‘But I said I would do it, and I’m a man of my word. Believe it or not, I allowed myself to be coerced because I was trying to forget about this amazing woman I met in Vienna.’
He’d been thinking about her all this time? Struggled, just like her, to forget about their night together? Dumbfounded, Sadie blinked, ensnared by the desire she saw in his eyes, by the memories of how good they’d been together, physically, by the certainty that they would still rock each other’s world.
But now that she knew him better, she felt as if she could tell him anything. Just not about Milly. Not tonight.
‘You were a balm to the soul I didn’t know I needed that night,’ he went on, ‘so thank you.’ He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them like an old-fashioned hero.
‘You made me feel desirable again that night, so thank you, too.’ Sadie all but combusted as the sexy half-smile tugged at his mouth.
Did he too feel this deepening connection that left Sadie bewildered, because, no matter how strong, it could only ever be temporary? It might even be non-existent once she’d told him about Milly.
As if answering her unasked question, his stare dipped to her mouth.
Only the knowledge of Milly waiting at home stopped Sadie from leaning in for a kiss.
‘I think I should go,’ she said, slipping her hand from the comfort of his as prickles of guilt and confusion made her itchy under her sweater.
Their situation was indeed complicated. She needed to focus on finding the right moment to tell him about his daughter and on preparing herself for his likely reaction. Indulging in their chemistry now would only make things worse.
She reached for her phone and ordered a ride, eager to get away from him to clear her thoughts. She needed to forget about how good it would be to kiss him again so that the next time they met, she’d be ready to break her news.
Roman nodded, a brief flicker of disappointment in his stare.
‘Can I walk you home, make sure you’re safe?’ he asked as they headed for the bar where he paid for their drinks.
Sadie saw that his offer wasn’t a line. Roman wasn’t that kind of man. But Milly was at home with Grace and prolonging his company meant prolonging the torture of wanting something she couldn’t have.
Flustered by the conflicting desires tugging her off balance, she waved her phone. ‘I’ve just ordered a ride, actually, but thanks.’
She needed to be careful. For all their sakes. She couldn’t allow her feelings for him, her attraction and compassion to cloud her judgement.
‘Okay. Do you mind if I wait with you?’ he asked, holding the door open.
‘Of course not.’
As they waited outside, Sadie returned to the one light topic of conversation that felt safe. ‘I was thinking... Do you own a tux? It might add an elegance to the auction. Get pulses racing and loosen up the wallets of the bidders a little, although your scrubs would also do the job, just fine.’
The idea of other women drooling over Roman gave her chills she had no right to feel. Just because they’d spent one night as lovers a year ago didn’t make him her property.
‘I can hire a tux. But you like the surgeon look, huh?’ He smiled, knowingly, his eyes full of playful sparkle. ‘I think the word you used was gorgeous.’
She rolled her eyes, laughing, but it was pointless denying their chemistry. ‘Chocolate cake is gorgeous, that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to indulge.’
He stepped close, ducked his head and whispered, ‘Except once you’ve indulged, you know how good it will taste next time...’
Sadie shuddered with excitement and longing. He was right. Once wasn’t enough.
Before she could make a mistake and kiss him again, a car pulled up at the kerb.
Sadie checked the registration. ‘That’s my ride.’ Relief flooded her system.
Roman cast the driver an assessing once-over, resting his hand on her waist. ‘Share your journey with me, so I’ll know when you get home safely.’
‘I will.’ Sadie nodded, touched by his concern and horribly turned on. Now that it was time to part, she didn’t want to leave him after the emotional roller coaster of their evening, after everything he’d shared.
‘Will you be okay, you know...after our talk?’ She hated the idea of him being alone with his grief and his pain, and his memories, when she had their beautiful baby girl to cuddle.
‘I will. Goodnight, Sadie.’ He swooped down and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek as he’d done when he’d greeted her earlier.
She froze, poised for it to last too long, for it to turn into something heated. She could so easily raise her face to his until their lips connected. His strong arms would encircle her, his hand between her shoulder blades. Their lips would lock with passion while their bodies met once more from mouth to thigh...
It would feel so good. Better, perhaps, than the last time when they’d been total strangers.
But their situation was more complex now. This time there would be no walking away unscathed. She cared about Roman. How could she not? He was Milly’s father. A kind and honourable and broken man.
Wary of undoing the fragile emotional ties they’d woven in the bar, she stepped back.
It was only their daughter, waiting at home for her last feed, that gave her the strength to hurry into the waiting car.
Later that night, still horribly conflicted, she hugged a sleeping Milly, who was warm and safe and replete after her feed. The baby’s downy hair tickled Sadie’s lips as she pressed a kiss to their daughter’s forehead.
‘I was wrong about your father,’ she whispered, thinking about the final text he’d sent shortly after she’d arrived home.
Thanks for letting me know you’re safe and thanks for listening.
‘He’s complex. Hurting. I just hope that when he finally meets you, you bring him as much joy as you’ve brought me.’
Her final thought just before she fell asleep was that she was in an impossible position. She couldn’t fall back into bed with him, no matter how much she wanted to. But until she found the perfect moment, she couldn’t tell him the news she hoped would be welcome. She had no idea what to do next, but she’d have to do it soon, before her options became even more limited.