AS SOON AS Roman finished operating on his young patient, Abby, he headed back to Sunshine Ward in search of the woman he’d all but accepted he would never see again.
His mind reeled. She hadn’t acknowledged him in any way. Did she want to pretend that he didn’t exist?
Fortunately, his shock at seeing her again and the emergency unfolding had precluded conversation earlier. Abby’s surgery had given him some breathing space, time to sift through his shambolic thoughts now that his mystery woman had a name.
He’d read her name tag: Dr Sadie Barnes.
Sadie. It suited her—playful and sophisticated.
His blood stirred at the idea of a repeat of that unforgettable night, but even if she had given him a second thought after they’d kissed goodbye in Vienna, it didn’t mean that he could allow himself to pick up where they’d left off. He was still the same broken man she’d met then. He’d come to London to work, nothing more. One locum position in a series of locum positions that was his life now.
In his eagerness to get this situation—them working in the same hospital for the next month—back under his control, he quickened his pace, his rubber-soled theatre shoes squeaking along the corridor. On entering the ward, he spied Sadie at a computer station.
Despite the warnings he’d recited since they’d come face to face earlier—she’d already spent far too much time in his head since that night—he took a second to enjoy the vision. She was deep in concentration, her profile accentuated by her tied-back dark hair the colour of treacle. She looked good. Better than his well-flexed memories recalled.
The jolt of attraction he’d experienced earlier but had been forced to ignore shocked him anew, as if she’d defibrillated his dormant libido the way she had that night they’d met. Two lonely strangers who’d abandoned the search for love, but were still human, still alive, still capable of connection and passion.
When it came to relationships, nothing had changed for Roman. But a part of him couldn’t help the surge of gut-churning excitement as he crossed the ward. He hadn’t known it back then, but she would become the first woman since his wife and son had been killed to spark in him a restless kind of energy.
If he’d known her name the next morning, when he’d almost immediately regretted their ‘no names, no strings’ agreement, he might have been tempted to call, to try and see her again. Of course, the anonymous nature of their night together had heightened the mystery. But just because their careers were another thing they had in common alongside inflammable chemistry and a desire to stay single, the zero-temptation arrangement had been for the best.
‘Dr Barnes,’ he said, interrupting her study of a chest X-ray on the monitor screen, hoping that a few moments of conversation would break the spell she’d held over him these past eleven months and he could finally put his unprecedented fascination with this woman into perspective.
‘Oh!’ Sadie startled, her hand flying to her chest where her blouse dipped enticingly between her breasts. ‘You made me jump. I...wasn’t expecting you.’
Her cheeks flamed and she laughed nervously, flashing him that hesitant smile he’d found so utterly appealing the night they’d flirted their way into bed. She glanced down as if she had no idea how beautiful she was, another trait that, for Roman, fuelled his intrigue.
‘I thought you’d still be in Theatre,’ she continued, ‘but here you are, so soon. Good. Great. I hoped we could talk.’
So she had recognised him. Had been expecting him. And now that he was here, he made her nervous.
This interesting news trampled all over his good intentions to stay immune. And that mouth... How many times had he relived her kisses, her cries, her satisfied smile?
‘Sorry to startle you,’ he said, still wildly attracted to Sadie Barnes. ‘I was hoping we could introduce ourselves properly.’
Earlier when their eyes had met, he’d had to snatch his gaze away. The memories slamming into him had been so visceral, he’d feared his feelings would be obvious to all of their colleagues. Now, struck again by serious Vienna flashbacks, he held out his hand, his palm once more tingling in anticipation. ‘Roman Ježek.’
Despite touching her throat in a way that told him their mutual attraction was as fierce as ever, Sadie glanced at his hand as if it might be a live snake. Then she gave it a brief but decisive shake, clearing her throat. ‘Sadie Barnes. But you already know my name.’
Beyond the flare of arousal, there was something defensive in her eyes, as if by indulging his natural curiosity, in finally learning the name of his secret lover, he’d broken their one-night rule. But he’d bet his last euro that she’d wondered about him, too. If she’d known his name that night, she’d have cried it out often enough.
‘I read your name tag.’ He shrugged, unperturbed. ‘Since we’re colleagues, it made sense to be on first-name terms.’
He opened his mouth to ask how she’d been since they parted that night, but Sadie beat him to it.
‘What are you doing in London?’ she asked, her chin raised in challenge, her composure obviously recovered enough for her to erect a defensive wall. ‘How did you...find me?’
Her aloof tone grated on his eardrums, her accusatory stare tensing his shoulders.
Rather than return to him, her eyes darted around the ward as if she was ashamed to be seen with a man with whom she’d had casual sex, as if she hoped to keep their connection a sordid secret.
Well, Roman was a gentleman; her secret was safe.
‘Find you...?’ Why was she being so...uptight?
Did she think he’d purposefully hunted her down? Deliberately invaded her work environment like some sort of stalker? Would she prefer if he ignored her now, pretend that he hadn’t recognised her? Even if he was into such game-playing, he’d spent the best part of a year trying to master his curiosity for this woman, trying to forget about their night of intense pleasure and honest expectations, a night Sadie clearly regretted.
‘How on earth would I find you when, until two hours ago, I hadn’t even known your name?’ He’d only known the sound of her soft groans when he been inside her and the places to kiss to push her over the edge.
‘Right...good point.’ She nodded, momentarily appeased. ‘Sorry, that came out wrong.’
He concealed a sigh, the excited gallop of his pulse puttering out as disappointment bloomed in its place. ‘I would have thought it’s obvious what I’m doing here. I work here as a locum paediatric surgeon.’
He wasn’t about to pounce on her at work.
Admittedly, when he’d first moved to London, he’d occasionally fantasised that he might see the Englishwoman he couldn’t forget on the Tube, or in a supermarket. But he’d never once imagined that they would wind up being work colleagues. But despite the way she kept checking him out, her gaze roaming his body, she did want to pretend that they were strangers, not a couple who shared intense sexual chemistry and knew each other’s bodies to an intimate degree.
‘I see.’ She nodded and looked away. ‘Of course. Yes. Right. A locum... Temporary... Good to meet you, Dr Ježek.’
But her weird attitude and regret of their night together—a night that, for him, had been rare and unforgettable—would easily crush his temptation to pick up where they’d left off—problem solved.
Grief had changed him. He felt certain he was no longer capable of a relationship, let alone love. A good thing, then, that, unlike last year when they’d seemed to share more than their cynicism for Valentine’s Day, any relationship with Sadie, even a friendly one, now seemed fraught with the complications for which he had no time.
Reining in his enthusiasm, Roman changed the subject. ‘I’ve just finished operating on Abby Swift. Would you like an update?’
He indicated the vacant ward office, pulling professional seniority to help him ignore the involuntary reactions of his body, which, despite his own reservations and Sadie’s hot-and-cold reception, was still inordinately pleased to see her again.
‘Of course,’ Sadie said after a moment’s hesitation. ‘Good idea. Lots to talk about.’
She hurried into the office as if flustered, pacing as far away from him as the confines of the small room would allow.
Roman gently closed the door, keen now that they had some privacy to reassure Sadie that he hadn’t pursued her all the way to London in order to declare he’d fallen madly in love or to propose marriage.
She turned to face him and their eyes locked. A crackle of electricity seemed to spark between them in the silence.
Roman’s heart thudded. This was bad. A part of him had known it would be this way if he was ever to see her again. Chemistry as hot as theirs was hard to ignore. And despite her nerves, her embarrassment, she felt it too.
She blinked and a switch seemed to flip. ‘So I understand there was some post-op bleeding,’ she stated, her tone distant where a moment ago she’d looked as if she might tear off his scrubs and ravish him on the desk. A not unpleasant prospect.
‘I saw the results of the scan,’ she continued, her hands twisting together. ‘Abby was lucky. That could have been much more serious.’
She really was nervous.
Roman concealed his frustration and confusion, feeling as if he’d missed the punchline to a joke. ‘Yes—a vascular clip had worked loose. The second surgery went well. Abby is now stable after a unit of blood and should be back on the ward shortly.’
‘That’s good.’ Sadie couldn’t quite meet his stare, her arms crossed over her waist, her distraction and evasiveness becoming more pronounced as if he were an uninvited guest at a party that she had to evict.
Obviously she wasn’t interested in any sort of personal conversation.
But why so uncomfortable? Was it just the sexual tension or something else?
This Sadie was nothing like the chilled and playful woman he’d met in Vienna. At this rate he wouldn’t need to curb his attraction, to keep her at arm’s length the way he’d kept everyone since his life had imploded four years ago when a car crash had taken the lives of his wife and son.
She would do the work for him.
Perhaps staying strangers back in Vienna had been serendipity, an escape from becoming ensnared in whatever was going on here.
Except they still needed to find a way to work together.
‘Look, Sadie, I know it’s a bit awkward,’ he said, shoving aside his attraction, ‘me turning up like this at your workplace, but, I assure you, it’s just a coincidence.’
He paused, hopeful that she might relax, but if anything being alone with him in this tiny office was making her more nervous.
‘Coincidence...’ she mumbled and began pacing again. ‘It’s crazy. What are the chances...?’
He nodded. ‘I know, I was shocked to see you this morning. Pleased too. I thought I’d never see you again.’
He smiled his most benign smile while Sadie looked on warily, frowning as if he’d slipped into his native Czech and expected her to understand.
Now that they were away from prying eyes on the ward, it was time to clear the air, reassure her that he was the same man she’d met in Vienna.
‘So, how have you been since we last saw each other?’ he pressed on, finally acknowledging their one-night stand.
To his alarm, she paled further at his innocent question.
‘Good, thank you,’ she said a little too briskly. ‘I’m very good, you know, busy. Work, life, the usual. Busy, busy, busy.’
She touched the edge of the desk, tapped her index finger there impatiently, as if he was holding her up and she couldn’t wait to get away.
Well, he was hearing the message. She might still fancy him, but she wasn’t interested in another hook-up.
‘I won’t keep you,’ he said, himself still frustratingly tangled in the threads of their sexual chemistry, but determined to shake off all pretence now he knew where he stood with this changed woman. ‘I just thought, seeing as we need to work together, we should, you know, swap a few polite pleasantries. Maybe dispense with the awkwardness. Put the sex behind us.’
The growing horror of her expression gave him no satisfaction.
She squawked out a strangled laugh, her eyes darting to the door at his back. ‘Yes, we do need to work together. That’s a good point. We’re colleagues.’
Except he couldn’t bring himself to just...walk away and ignore her as if they’d never been intimate.
Confused that they were now so obviously out of sync, when the night they’d met they’d effortlessly clicked, he ploughed on. ‘I was going to ask you if you fancied grabbing a drink one evening after work, but I can sense that you’d rather forget all about that night and pretend it never happened.’
It was as if London Sadie was an entirely different person.
He’d never been one to play games, another reason he’d avoided becoming romantically involved with anyone after losing Karolina. He’d tried to make that clear in Vienna, and he’d thought, wrongly now it seemed, that Sadie was the same. But she was acting evasive, playing her cards very close to her chest.
‘A drink...’ Sadie blushed, looked down at her feet, chewed ferociously at her lip. ‘Oh...um... That was kind of you... A drink...’
Kind of him...? Roman barely held in his snort of disbelief. ‘Yes, you know, they sell them in bars and café’s as social lubricants.’
‘Hmm... I was actually going to suggest the same thing,’ she continued, now meeting his eye, ‘and then I found out that you’re the hospital’s “eligible doctor”.’ She made finger quotes. ‘So, you know, a drink probably isn’t the best idea...’ She waved her hand vaguely. ‘And as we’ve just established, I’m a registrar and you’re a consultant, so we probably shouldn’t, you know, socialise or tongues will start wagging.’
Was she filling the awkward silence? Waffling out of nervousness? Surely she would soon run out of excuses.
‘And I work late most nights,’ she rushed on, ‘as I’m sure do you, with all of your operating and stuff, so that doesn’t leave a lot of time for a drink, anyway...’
Roman tuned out, marvelling that she had barely paused for breath, her vocalised stream of consciousness obviously a nervous gesture and, to Roman’s ears, one big let-down.
Her cheeks were growing pinker by the second. ‘And my sister is staying with me at the moment, off and on, and—’
He held up his hand, stopping her mid-flow. ‘Don’t worry. You don’t need to add that you’re busy watching paint dry. I get it. You’re really not interested in clearing the air, or being friendly.’
She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. ‘I—’
‘Look,’ he interrupted what would likely be another raft of excuses, ‘just to reassure you, I didn’t stalk you for eleven months, nor did I seek out a job here just so I could swear undying love.’
She snorted, her expression horrified, as if she had no understanding that he was joking.
‘Yes, I thought we had a good time in Vienna,’ he continued, ‘at least it seemed that way to me, unless you were faking it. And given that we’ve seen each other naked and now have to work together until I leave in a few weeks, I hoped we could be mature and respectful, even friends.’ He shrugged, knowing that the chemistry would pose a big barrier to that. ‘But you don’t have to make excuses. A no is sufficient. I’m a grown-up. I assure you, I’ll be fine.’
He stepped back, giving her more space and preparing to draw a line under this puzzling reunion. Roman shook his head, defeated.
Where had that passionate woman gone? They almost hadn’t made it inside her Vienna hotel room, their heated kisses spilling over from the lift into the deserted corridor while they’d fumbled with the room’s lock. She’d been as insatiable for him as he’d been for her. They’d had sex not once, but twice.
But where that unguarded part of Roman only she had managed to sneak past had seen this chance meeting as a gift, an opportunity to once more explore the undeniable chemistry they’d discovered in Vienna, for Sadie, one night had obviously been enough.
‘Hold on,’ she said, frowning, jabbing a finger in his direction. ‘A: I faked nothing and B: Don’t try and make me out to be the bad guy here. You’re the one who volunteered to date a woman for the Valentine’s fundraiser.’
At his gobsmacked confusion, she clarified.
‘I’m the person who’s been chosen to auction you off like a prize stud. What happened to Mr I’m Not Looking for a Relationship? If what you told me in Vienna is true, don’t you think you’re misleading all those potential bidders who think they stand a chance with you? Not to mention that you’re happy to be the fundraiser’s eligible poster boy and then inviting me out for a drink. That wasn’t the man I met in Vienna, unless your whole “not looking for love” thing was a charade. Who’s fake now, huh?’
Roman frowned, trying to decipher if she was mad that he’d tricked her, jealous that he was expected to take the auction winner out to dinner, or indifferent beyond ensuring that the auction was accurately represented.
‘You’re accusing me of lying?’ he said, stunned. He’d been honest that night. He wasn’t the man for someone looking for a relationship, not even a casual one. ‘Because if you want to talk about deceptions, I can’t even believe that you’re the same woman I met then.’
They faced each other, breaths gusting in mutual outrage. Any trace of the common ground they’d shared that night seemed long gone.
‘Look.’ He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t lie to you in Vienna, and, yes, I did volunteer for the auction.’
Allow himself to be coerced, more like. He hadn’t wanted to participate in the stupid fundraiser at all. But the formidable Sister Samuels wouldn’t take no for an answer. And the part of him still wondering about his mysterious Valentine’s lover had needed to forget about her, to accept that he was never going to see her again. Volunteering for a good cause had seemed like a painless way to close that chapter, once and for all.
But she needn’t worry. He’d meant what he’d said last Valentine’s Day. Love, romance, relationships were mostly for people looking for commitment and family in their future, and Roman had already found and lost more than many people experienced in a lifetime.
‘Exactly,’ she said triumphantly, aiming her index finger at the centre of his chest as if her point were spectacularly proved.
Recalling the lengths he’d gone to to make Sadie understand he was unavailable in Vienna and realising it now looked as if he were actively seeking a partner, he rushed to offer reassurance. ‘It’s just a fundraiser for a good cause. I’m not interested in relationships, the whole “marriage and kids” thing, I can assure you. Everything I said to you that night still stands.’
He was still the loner she’d met at an Anti-Valentine’s party, still trying to outrun his grief and loneliness. Still trying to forget that he’d taken his once full and happy life for granted until it was destroyed by a drunk driver one rainy night.
Maybe if she realised that he was the same person she’d slept with because they were both safe from emotional entanglement, she could relax. He wanted a casual drink, the odd polite hello, not a lifelong commitment. Maybe then, they could get back to the light-hearted vibe of their first conversation, because this one wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned.
Sadie seemed lost for words, so he continued, ‘I’m simply going along with “a date”—’ now it was his turn to make finger quotes ‘—to help raise funds for the hospital.’
Making polite conversation over a one-off dinner was one thing, but he wasn’t the man of anyone’s dreams. ‘I’m not even going to be in London that long. I’ll be leaving in a few weeks for my next locum position in Ireland. The entire reason I locum is because I’m not interested in putting down any roots. What’s that expression? A rolling stone gathers no moss.’
Rather than look appeased, Sadie seemed to turn a shade paler, swallowing as if her throat was dry. ‘No roots... Good. That’s good news. Excellent.’
Her mouth formed a bright, clearly fake smile and she brushed a speck from her blouse. ‘Because I’m not sure it’s a good look for the hospital’s eligible doctor to go gadding about with other women when a date with you is the fundraiser’s most anticipated auction. The current family room and playroom are in desperate need of a makeover,’ she added primly, ‘and I want to help make the auction a big success and bring in as much money as possible...’
She was doing it again, barely pausing for breath. One vague excuse after another. He mentally scratched his head at her evasiveness. He’d never met anyone so hard to pin down to a straight answer. Emotionally, this Sadie gave nothing away.
‘No one is going to bid for a date with you,’ she continued, as if flustered by the idea, ‘if they see you out and about with every single woman you can lay your hands on. And on that note, you’ll probably need to try and be a little more charming on the night of the auction, perhaps don’t lead with the whole “anti-commitment” speech thing.’ More finger quotes. ‘We don’t want to dissuade the bidders...’
Finally, she ran out of steam. She raised her chin defiantly, her pretty eyes flashing.
‘What on earth is gadding?’ he said, his lips twitching, certain that he’d never done it but intrigued anew by her jealousy. There was still a part of her that didn’t want to see him take out another woman.
More mixed messages.
Just then her pager sounded. She checked the screen, her body visibly sagging as if she was relieved to have a reason to get away from him at last.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to figure that out on your own,’ she said, moving past him and reaching for the door handle. ‘I have a patient to discharge, so you’ll have to excuse me.’
Had they resolved a single thing?
‘Of course.’ Roman stepped aside, struggling to reconcile the dismissal and confusion with their obviously mutual and ongoing chemistry.
Some women he’d had casual sex with became clingy, as if they hoped they could change him, even though he was always as honest as he’d been with Sadie. His commitment avoidance wasn’t a lifestyle choice; it was self-preservation for a man who’d lost everything he’d loved.
But this woman was acting as if she wanted nothing more than to return to being strangers.
She tugged at the handle with force, clearly hoping to make a grand exit so that he knew exactly where he stood.
Except the door didn’t budge.
She tugged again, a soft grunt of frustration leaving her lips.
Roman hid a smile. Despite their ridiculous disagreement, which for the life of him he couldn’t even decide what it had been about, she intrigued him, even when she was upset.
Flustered, Sadie gripped the door handle with both hands, her knuckles white as if escape had become a matter of life or death. She blew wisps of hair from her eyes as she jiggled the handle with enough force to yank the fixing screws from the wood.
She was so close, he could detect her perfume. It brought a fleeting vision of him spinning her around, pressing her back against the door and kissing her thoroughly until this confusing interlude, her blowing hot and cold, made sense.
Not that he would ever do such a thing.
She’d made it clear: they were done.
So much for the fantasies that had crept under his guard, fantasies where they’d gone for that drink, continued to discover how much more they had in common beyond rampant attraction and resumed their casual fling for the weeks he had left in London.
‘Allow me to try,’ he said, when she continued to battle fruitlessly with the door.
‘Fine,’ she said with a huff, relinquishing the handle and stepping aside.
But the room’s large desk prevented her moving too far.
He gripped the cool metal door handle, aware that they now shared a bubble of close personal space. He waited, poised for the absurdity of their unnecessary confrontation and them being trapped in an office together to trigger the laughter that had once come so easily and spontaneously while they’d flirted.
He looked down and she looked up, their eyes clashing.
Every erotic memory from that night came rushing back.
Her scent triggered olfactory reminders of how he’d left her room that night with her perfume lingering on his skin.
Her lips parted on a barely audible gasp, her breath gusting as they stared, locked together in the charged moment of stalemate. She blinked up at him, breathing hard.
Roman glanced at her mouth, recalled that first heady taste of their kiss.
His invitation to a drink hovered on his lips once more.
No; it was over.
The handle gave way under his hand, the door swinging gently open without a hitch.
He deflated, the moment gone. ‘After you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, averting her stare, hurrying onto the ward.
Roman stared at her retreat, the restlessness back.
Yes, she’d been the only woman to worm her way inside his mind and set up camp since his wife, but they were destined to be nothing more to each other than polite strangers who worked together.
He’d allowed himself a brief reprieve from his solitude that night in her arms, but now he’d have to ignore the sparks and steer clear of her for a few weeks. The Sadie of his daydreams and the Sadie of reality were two completely different women. Neither of them wanted anything to do with him, and that should suit him just fine.