THE NEXT DAY in the ED was hectic. Harvey and Della had no planned operations, so they’d split up to help the local doctors with the surgical admissions. Harvey had just finished seeing a six-year-old there on holiday with suspected appendicitis when a text came through from Della.
I have a patient who needs a second opinion if you’re free.
Harvey washed his hands, his eagerness to reunite with Della leaving him jittery. Yesterday had been a big day. After their kayaking adventure at Tokuma Island, after he’d opened up to her about Alice’s death and she’d hinted again at her regrets over her marriage, she’d spent the night at his bungalow. They’d wordlessly showered together, lazily washing the sand and salt from each other’s body before falling into bed. They hadn’t talked about their pasts again. It was as if they were each processing what they’d learned. The trouble was that by spending so much time with her, by discovering new things about Della, by constantly needing to touch her, Harvey was struggling to keep his emotions in check. He felt out of control, and that was a huge concern. Her words from the day before looped in his mind.
You deserve to be happy too... What does that look like for you? Being alone forever?
Distracted anew by the power of that question, Harvey went in search of Della. He’d never seriously considered it before, but now that she’d raised the idea, now that it was out there in his consciousness, he couldn’t seem to put it out of his mind. Nor did he know the answer. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Della in yesterday, but he’d wanted her to know that most people had relationship regrets, that she wasn’t alone.
Harvey found Della in a nearby bay with an anxious-looking couple in their thirties. As always, his pulse banged at the sight of her, his fingers restless to touch her soft, sun-kissed skin, his lips eager for those passionate kisses that always escalated out of their control.
‘Dr Ward,’ Della said, her expression both apologetic and relieved. ‘Thanks for coming. Mr and Mrs Beaumont would like a second opinion, and I told them you’re Melbourne’s top trauma surgeon.’ Her stare carried questions, as if checking he was okay after his confession yesterday. But he’d rather she look at him with desire than pity.
‘Only because they were too stupid to appoint you, Dr Wilton.’ Harvey smiled at the patient, Mr Beaumont, who was lying on the stretcher, supporting his left arm in a sling.
Della was a compassionate doctor, a talented surgeon and a good listener. She would be a catch for any man. Harvey hated to see the threads of doubt she carried. Yes, she knew what she wanted, but she also felt that she’d compromised too much in her marriage.
‘The Beaumonts are here on their honeymoon,’ Della told Harvey. ‘Mr Beaumont is a fit and healthy thirty-year-old who fell off a jet ski this morning travelling at approximately fifty kilometres per hour. He sustained a mild concussion on hitting the water and has an anterior dislocation of the left shoulder.’
Harvey listened as Della pulled up the shoulder X-ray on the computer, which clearly displayed the dislocation. She angled the screen so the newlyweds could also see the results. Harvey quickly examined the man’s arm and then scrutinised the X-ray and read the report, in no doubt of Della’s diagnosis. It was a standard case of shoulder dislocation, but some patients needed a second opinion. That didn’t mean Harvey was better equipped to treat this patient than Della. He trusted her clinical acumen unreservedly. In fact, he realised with an internal jolt, he trusted her, full stop.
That was why he’d told her about Alice. But when had that change happened...?
‘So I’m afraid, as Dr Wilton pointed out,’ Harvey said, standing side by side with Della in solidarity, ‘you have a dislocated shoulder. I agree with her diagnosis.’
Harvey glanced Della’s way, hoping she saw his absolute faith in his stare. But standing close without touching her left him restless to drag her into his arms and chase off all her doubts. The same fiercely protective urges he’d experienced yesterday at the beach when she’d told him about her ex-husband flared anew now. What was going on with him, and how could she make him feel this way when he’d effortlessly avoided it for twenty years?
‘The good news,’ he added to Mr Beaumont, ‘is that there doesn’t appear to be any fracture or significant tendon or muscle damage, so you won’t need surgery. But I concur one hundred percent with Dr Wilton’s clinical assessment and the treatment she’s suggested.’
Tearful, Mrs Beaumont dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and gripped her husband’s hand on his uninjured side. Harvey could sympathise. Of course the wife would be worried. No one wanted their honeymoon marred by injury, but these things happened when you came off a jet ski at speed. The man was lucky the injuries weren’t more serious, particularly the concussion.
‘Once we put the shoulder back in place,’ Della said, her voice reassuring, ‘and once the pain and swelling have gone down, you should make a full recovery. If you’re happy for us to proceed, we can quickly pop your shoulder back into the joint. The sooner we do that, the less the risk of surrounding tissue damage. Why don’t you two chat about it for a moment.’
Harvey and Della left the bay and moved a short distance away so they wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Thanks for sticking up for me so heartily back there,’ she said, looking up at him with a curious smile, perhaps because in the past, when Brody teased her at family gatherings, Harvey had always kept quiet or joined in. If he’d known back then how Della’s feistiness was a shield because she compared herself to Brody, how she felt the need to prove herself, how she considered her divorce in particular a personal failure, he’d have been way more tactful.
‘Any time, Della.’ Shame for how he’d behaved when he’d been focussed on keeping a lid on his attraction for Della coiled inside him. ‘You know it’s not personal—some patients just like to question everything.’
‘Of course.’ Della nodded, a flicker of amusement in her stare. Then she sobered and frowned. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, glancing around the department to make sure they were alone. ‘You know...after yesterday. You were gone when I got out of the shower.’
‘I wanted to get in a run before work,’ he said, shaking off the unfamiliar swarm of emotions that yesterday’s confessions, both his and hers, had churned up. ‘But I’m fantastic,’ he said, staring intently. ‘I had a great sleep and woke up feeling...energised.’ He’d kissed her awake, as if reaching for her naked body next to him had become the most natural thing in the world, and he wanted her to look at him as she had when he’d pushed inside her and rode them both to orgasm. Would he still reach for her back in Melbourne? Would he crave the scent of Della’s perfume on his pillow? Would he acclimatise to having an empty bed again? The idea was mildly depressing...
Della flushed and shot him a censorious look. ‘I remember,’ she said. ‘No need to brag.’
Harvey reined in his smug smile. ‘Shall I leave this to you?’ he asked about the shoulder dislocation. ‘You don’t need me.’ Although he’d somehow grown used to them working together. They made a great team. Another thing he’d have to get used to when he returned to Australia.
Della shrugged, her ego clearly undamaged. ‘I think the wife just expected a prescription for some painkillers and to be sent on their way.’
Harvey bit his tongue, mildly insulted on Della’s behalf that her skills had been questioned. A junior doctor could reduce a shoulder dislocation, whereas Della was an experienced consultant trauma surgeon.
‘If you have a moment,’ she went on, ‘I could use your assistance. I prefer Matsen’s traction to reduce a shoulder dislocation, and it’s a two-person job.’
‘Really? Matsen’s?’ Harvey asked about her choice of technique mainly because he enjoyed evoking the sparks of challenge in her eyes.
‘Yes, Matsen’s.’ She smiled a mocking smile, clearly onto him and in no way intimidated.
‘You don’t use the Milch manoeuvre?’ he pressed, questioning her to bring out the barely disguised amusement in her stare. ‘That’s what I prefer...’ These days, since they were getting along so much better, they weren’t sparring as much. Part of him missed it, and maybe Della did, too.
‘Well, it doesn’t surprise me that we’re different,’ she said calmly. ‘But my technique is better. And it’s my patient.’
Harvey grinned, glad to see Della wouldn’t let him get away with anything, despite the fact that she might be starting to trust him too. After all, she had opened up about her ex. ‘Then it’s your call,’ he said, happily yielding.
‘Good. Matsen’s it is.’ She shot him a victorious look. ‘Come on. That shoulder isn’t going to right itself. I’m sure the Beaumonts want to get back to their honeymoon.’
Dutifully, Harvey followed her back to the bedside. A week ago, when Della and he only knew the superficial things about each other, they might have more fiercely argued the point on whose technique was better, although there were many. But it didn’t matter. They both knew the important thing was to quickly put the head of the humerus back into the joint.
After some time to consider, the patient was happy to proceed with the treatment. With Mr Beaumont lying on his back and the bed lowered, Della and Harvey took up their positions opposite each other, Della taking hold of the injured arm and Harvey standing next to the man’s opposite shoulder. Harvey gripped the ends of a sheet passed around the man’s chest and under his affected armpit, while Della held his dislocated arm in position, bent to ninety degrees at the elbow.
‘Ready?’ she asked the patient, who nodded and then closed his eyes, squeezing his wife’s hand.
Della held Harvey’s eye contact, silently mouthing one, two, three so they were in sync. She leaned back, applying traction to the patient’s bent arm, while Harvey pulled on the sheet, applying counter-traction in the opposite direction. With a slight pop, the dislocation reduced, and the patient released a long sigh of relief.
Della flashed Harvey a grateful and triumphant smile that made him want to kiss the living daylights out of her. Instead, he beamed. ‘Good old Matsen’s. Worked like a charm.’
Della carefully hid her smile, clearly trying to stay professional in front of the patient. They thought differently on many subjects, but when it mattered, they’d proved time and again this week that they could compromise. Would they remember that when they saw each other in the future, or would they revert to bickering over nothing? Had this fling in Fiji forever altered their relationship? Harvey hoped so. He didn’t want to go backwards where Della was concerned. Did that mean he wanted to be her friend? Friends seemed inadequate after everything they’d shared. But he couldn’t seriously be thinking they could be more than friends, could he?
‘Who’s Matsen?’ Mrs Beaumont asked, confused, interrupting the disconcerting turn of Harvey’s thoughts.
Della flushed and shot Harvey a disapproving glare. ‘It’s the name of the technique we just used to relocate your husband’s shoulder. Dr Ward and I differ on most things, so we’d discussed our preferences outside.’
Funny how those differences of theirs seemed less important here in Fiji. Harvey excused himself to the couple, quietly addressing Della before he left the bedside. ‘Don’t forget we have that bilateral laparoscopic acromioplasty to get to.’ The made-up medical procedure was their secret code for a coffee break.
‘I’ll be there shortly,’ she said with a straight face, turning to the patient with instructions. ‘You’ll need to wear a sling for the pain, and to help the swelling go down. I’ll prescribe you some analgesia for the discomfort, but an ice pack will help too. And needless to say—no more jet-skiing.’
Harvey headed to the break room and flicked on the kettle, the euphoria of working with Della eclipsed by the return of his unsettled thoughts for the future. He made hot drinks, coffee for him and tea for Della, and then crossed the corridor to the deserted doctors’ office to check his emails as a distraction, which was where Della found him a few minutes later.
‘Thank you for your help back there,’ she said, coming into the room. ‘And thanks for trusting my technique. I know it’s hard for you to take a back seat, control freak that you are.’ She pursed her lips playfully, but all Harvey could think about was kissing her. Maybe then he would remember that this was about sex, not friendship or...feelings. Because when it came to relationships, to more than a casual good time, he had no idea what he was doing.
‘For you, I’m always happy to take a back seat,’ he said, dipping his head closer and dropping his voice in order to distract them both. ‘Especially when we’re so good together, in and out of work.’
Della laughed, a tiny shudder passing through her body, so he knew she was thinking about last night and this morning, about their near insatiable physical need for each other. Harvey pushed closed the door before drawing her into his arms. ‘Is it wrong that I find your bedside manner incredibly sexy?’ Without waiting for a response, he pressed his lips to hers, groaning when she speared her fingers through his hair and deepened the kiss.
This was under his control. Feelings had no place in what they were doing. Harvey was most likely having a wobble because he’d opened up to Della about Alice yesterday. Letting someone that close felt...unnatural. But Della had a way of sneaking under his guard.
‘It could be considered mildly perverted,’ she teased, tugging his lips back to hers.
Harvey gripped her waist and pressed her up against the closed door, pinning her with his hips. ‘How can I want you again?’ he asked, his lips sliding down the side of her neck. ‘I’m seriously concerned for my own health. I feel like that Aussie marsupial mouse, antechinus, that commits reproductive suicide, literally dying from sex-fuelled exhaustion.’
Della laughed, gasped, tilted her head, exposing her neck to his lips. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. You know very well that the ultraviolet in sunlight increases testosterone levels. You’re just holiday horny.’
He laughed and she brought his mouth back to hers, her body writhing restlessly as his hand delved under her blouse to feel bare skin. Thank goodness he wasn’t alone. They couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Forcing himself to pull back, he rested his forehead against hers. ‘I didn’t just lure you here for this, you know. I made you a cup of tea.’
‘Thank you, but you can lure me anytime.’ She kissed him one last time and then pushed him away. ‘That being said, we have the entire afternoon of work to get through.’ She wiped at his mouth, presumably at the traces of her lip gloss, and straightened her blouse. ‘Are you going to Dr Tora’s barbecue tonight? We could walk to his place together if you are. It’s not far from the hospital, apparently.’
‘I’d love to walk with you,’ he said, reaching for her hand, his restlessness building now that she was no longer in his arms. Touching her had become a compulsion, one he was trying not to overthink. Their days in Fiji were numbered. With him back in Melbourne and Della returning to Auckland, the necessary break would happen naturally, and Harvey would surely shake off this feeling that, for the first time in twenty years, a relationship that went beyond sex might not be so bad.
‘We’d better get back to work,’ she said sheepishly. ‘The ED is filling up out there.’
Harvey nodded, his hands reluctantly slipping from her waist. ‘If I don’t see you before, I’ll call for you at seven tonight.’
‘It’s a date.’ She smiled, and he felt instantly lighter. She opened the door and ducked out of the office.
Harvey lingered for a few minutes more, trying to straighten his head. Could he and Della really go back to their former relationship after sharing so much? Could he see her at Jack’s naming day and not want her? Could he watch her date and fall in love again without being eaten alive with jealousy?
But what was the alternative? Trying to have more than a physical fling with Della would surely put important areas of his life at risk—his newfound truce with her, his friendship with Brody, his valuable place in the Wilton family. Was he seriously considering taking those risks, not to mention the personal risks to him: that powerlessness he detested so much?
Because if he wasn’t careful, if he overstretched and tried to have more than a fling, he might hurt Della and damage his relationships with all of the Wiltons. With those stakes, Harvey had the most to lose.