Sydney Harbor Hospital: Lexi's Secret
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Melanie Milburne
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Chapter One
IT WAS the worst possible way to run into an ex, Lexi thought. There was only one parking space left in the Sydney Harbour Hospital basement car park and although, strictly speaking, she shouldn’t have been parking there since she wasn’t a doctor or even a nurse, she was running late with some things for her sister, and it was just too tempting not to grab the last ‘Doctors Only’ space between a luxury sedan and a shiny red sports car that looked as if it had just been driven out of the showroom.
She opened her door and winced when she heard the bang-scrape of metal against metal.
And then she saw him.
He was sitting in the driver’s seat, his broad-spanned hands gripping the steering-wheel with white-knuckled force, glaring at her furiously when recognition suddenly hit him. Lexi saw the quick spasm of his features, as if the sight of her had been like a punch to the face.
She felt the same punch deep and low in her belly as she encountered that dark brown espresso coffee gaze. Her throat closed over as if a large hand had gripped her and was squeezing the breath right out of her. Her heart pounded with a sickening thud, skip, thud, skip, thud that made her feel as if she had just run up the fire escape of a towering skyscraper on a single breath.
It was so unexpected.
No warning.
No preparation.
Why hadn’t she been told he was back in the country? Why hadn’t she been told he was working here? He clearly was, otherwise why would he be parking in the doctors’ car park unless—like her—he had flouted the rules for his own convenience?
OK, so this was the time to play it cool. She could do that. It was her specialty. She was known all over the Sydney social circuit for her PhD in charm.
She shimmied out of the tight space between their cars and sent him a megawatt smile. ‘Hi, Sam,’ she said breezily. ‘How are things?’
Sam Bailey unfolded his tall length from the sports car, closing the driver’s door with a resounding click that more or less summed up his personality, Lexi thought—decisive, to the point, focussed on the task at hand.
‘Alexis,’ he said. No “How are you?” or “Nice to see you” or even “Hello”, just her full name, which nobody ever called her, not even her father in one of his raging rants or her mother in one of her gin-soaked ramblings.
Lexi’s winning smile faded slightly and her hands fidgeted with the strap of her designer bag hanging over her shoulder as she stood before him. ‘So, what brings you here?’ she said. ‘A patient perhaps?’
‘You could say that,’ he said coolly. ‘How about you?’
‘Oh, I hang out here a lot,’ she said, shifting her weight from one high heel to the other. ‘My sister Bella’s in and out for treatment all the time. She’s been in for the last couple of weeks. Another chest infection. She’s on the transplant list but we have to wait until it clears. The chest infection, I mean.’ Lexi knew she was rambling but what else could she do? Five years ago she had thought they’d had a future together. Their connection had been sudden but intense. She had dreamed of sharing her life with him and yet without notice Sam had cut her out of his life coldly and ruthlessly, not even pausing long enough to say goodbye. Seeing him again with no notice, no time to prepare herself, had stirred up deeply buried emotions so far beneath the surface she had almost forgotten they were there.
Almost…
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Sam said making a point of glancing at his silver watch.
Lexi felt a sinkhole of sadness open up inside her. He couldn’t have made it clearer he wanted nothing to do with her. How could he be so…so distant after the intense intimacy they had shared? Had their affair meant nothing to him? Nothing at all? Surely she was worth a few minutes of his precious time in spite of the different paths their lives had taken? ‘I didn’t know you were back from wherever you went,’ she said. ‘I heard you got a scholarship to study overseas. Where did you go?’
‘America,’ he said flatly.
She raised her eyebrows, determined to counter his taciturn manner with garrulous charm. ‘Wow, that’s impressive,’ she said. ‘The States is so cool. So much to see. So much to do. You must’ve been the envy of all the other trainees, getting that chance to train abroad.’
‘Yes.’ Another frowning glance at his watch.
Lexi’s gaze went to the strongly boned, deeply tanned wrist he had briefly exposed from the crisp, light blue business shirt he was wearing. Her stomach shifted like a pair of crutches slipping on a sheet of cracked ice. Those wrists had once held her much smaller ones in a passionate exchange that had left her body tingling for hours afterwards. Every moment of their blistering two-week affair was imprinted on her flesh. Seeing him again awakened every sleeping cell of her body to zinging, pulsing life. It felt like her blood had been thawed from a five-year deep freeze. It was racing through the network of her veins like a flash flood, making her heart hammer with the effort.
Her gaze slipped to his mouth, that beautiful sculpted mouth that had moved against hers with such heart-stopping skill. She still remembered the taste of him: minty and fresh and something essentially, potently male. She still remembered the feel of his tongue stroking against hers, the sexy rasp of it as it cajoled hers into a sizzling hot tango. He had explored every inch of her mouth with masterful expertise, leaving no corner without the branding heat of his possession.
And yet he had still walked away without so much as a word.
Lexi lifted her gaze back to his. Encountering those unfathomable brown depths made her chest feel like a frightened bird was trapped inside the cage of her lungs. Did he have any idea of the hurt he had caused? Did he have any idea of what she had gone through because of him?
She swallowed in anguish as she thought of the heart-wrenching decision she had made. Would she ever be able to summon up the courage to tell him? But, then, what would be the point? How could he possibly understand how hard it had been for her back then, young and pregnant with no one to turn to? She hadn’t felt ready to become a mother. A termination had seemed the right thing to do and yet…
‘I have to get going,’ Sam said, nodding towards the hospital building. ‘The CEO is expecting me.’
Lexi stared at him as realisation slowly dawned. ‘You’re going to be working here?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Here at SHH?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not in the private sector?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Do you ever answer a question with more than one word?’
‘Occasionally.’
Lexi gave him a droll look but inside she was screaming: This can’t be happening! ‘Why wasn’t I told?’ she asked.
‘No idea.’
‘Wow, that’s two.’
‘Two what?’ he said, frowning.
‘Words,’ she said. ‘Maybe we can work on that a little. Boost your repertoire a bit. What are you doing here?’
‘Working.’
She mentally rolled her eyes. ‘I mean why here? Why not in the private system where you can earn loads and loads of money?’ Why not some other place where I won’t see you just about every day and be reminded of what a silly little fool I was?
‘I was asked.’
‘Wow, three words,’ Lexi said, purposely animating her expression. ‘We’re really doing great here. I bet I can get you to say a full sentence in a month or two.’
‘I have to go now,’ he said. ‘And, yes, that’s five words if you’re still counting.’
She lifted her chin. ‘I am.’
* * *
Sam looked into those bluer than blue eyes and felt as if he had just dived into the deepest, most refreshing ocean after walking through the driest, hottest desert for years. Her softly pouting mouth was one of those mouths that just begged to be kissed. He could recall the dewy soft contours under his own just by looking at her. He could even remember the feel of the sexy dart of her tongue as it played catch-me-if-you-can with his. Her platinum-blonde hair was in its usual disarray that somehow managed to look perfectly coiffed and just-out-of-bed-after-marathon-sex at the same time. He felt the rocket blast to his groin as he remembered having her in his bed, up against the wall, over his desk, on a picnic blanket under the stars…
Stop it, buddy, he remonstrated with himself.
She had been too young for him before, and in spite of the years a world of experience separated them now. She was still a spoilt, rich kid who thought partying was a full-time occupation. He was on a mission to save lives that were dependent on transplant surgery.
Other people had to die in order for him to give life to others. He was always aware of that. Someone lost their life and by doing so he was given the opportunity to save another. He didn’t take his responsibility lightly. He had worked long and hard for his career. It had defined his life. He had given up everything to get where he was now. He could not afford, at this crucial time in his journey, to be distracted by a party girl whose biggest decision in life was whether to have floating candles or helium balloons at a function.
He had to walk away, just as he had before, but at least this would be his choice, made of his own free will.
‘You dented my car.’ It was not the best line he could have come up with but he had just taken delivery of the damned vehicle. To him it just showed how irresponsible she was. She hadn’t even looked as she’d flung open her door. It was just so typical of her and her privileged background. She had no idea how hard people had to work to get things she took for granted. She had been driven around in luxury cars all of her life. She didn’t know what it felt like to be dirt poor with no funds available for extras, let alone the essentials.
Just take his mother, for instance. Stuck on a long transplant list and living way out in the bush to boot, his mother had died waiting for a kidney. His working-class parents hadn’t had the money to pay for private health cover. They hadn’t even had the money to afford another child after him. He knew what it felt like to want things that were so out of your reach it was like grasping at bubbles, hoping they wouldn’t burst when your fingers touched them. In his experience they always burst.
Lexi was another bubble that had burst.
‘You call that a dent?’ Lexi bent over to examine the mark on the door.
Sam couldn’t stop his gaze drinking in the gorgeous curve of her tiny bottom. She was all legs and arms, coltish, even though she was now twenty-four. It didn’t seem to matter what she wore, she always looked like she had just stepped off a catwalk. Her legs were encased in skin-tight black pants that followed the long lines of her legs down to her racehorse-delicate ankles. She was wearing ridiculously high heels but he still had a few inches on her. The hot-pink top she had on skimmed her small but perfectly shaped breasts and the ruby-and-diamond pendant she was wearing around her neck looked like it could have paid off his entire university tuition loan.
She smelled fabulous. He felt his nostrils flaring to breathe more of her fragrance in. Flowers, spring flowers with a grace note of sexy sandalwood, or was it patchouli?
She suddenly straightened and met his eyes. ‘It’s barely made a mark,’ she said. ‘But if you want to be so pedantic I’ll pay for it to be fixed.’
Sam elevated one of his brows mockingly. ‘Don’t you mean Daddy will pay for it?’ he asked.
She pursed her mouth at him and he had to stop himself from bending down and covering it with his own. ‘I’ll have you know I earn my own money,’ she said with a haughty look.
‘Doing what?’ he shot back. ‘Painting your nails?’
She narrowed her blue eyes and her full mouth flattened. ‘I’m Head of Events at SHH,’ she said. ‘I’m in charge of fundraising, including the gala masked ball to be held next month.’
Sam rocked back on his heels. ‘Impressive.’
She gave him a hot little glare. ‘My father gave me the job because I’m good at what I do.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ he said. After all, partying was her favourite hobby. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to.’
‘Is this your first day at SHH?’ Lexi asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Where are you living?’
‘I’m renting an apartment in Kirribilli,’ he said. ‘I want to have a look around before I buy.’
A small frown puckered her smooth brow. ‘So you’re back for good?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Sam said. ‘My father’s getting on and I want to spend some time with him.’
‘Is he still living in Broken Hill?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said. ‘He’s retired to the Central Coast.’
Sam was surprised she remembered anything about his father. It didn’t sit well with his image of her as a shallow, spoilt little upstart who had only jumped into bed with him as an act of rebellion against her overbearing father.
That had really rankled.
Damn it, it still rankled.
Their red-hot affair had only lasted a couple of weeks before her father Richard Lockheart had stepped in and told him what would happen to his career if he didn’t stop messing with his baby girl. To top it all off, it turned out she was six years younger than she had told him. It had been a jolting shock to find the young woman he had been sleeping with had only left high school the year before. Nineteen years old and yet she had looked and acted as streetwise and poised as any twenty-five-year old.
Sam had told her things during that short affair he had told no one else. Things about his mother’s death, like how hard it had been to watch her die, feeling so helpless, his father’s endless grieving, his own dreams of making a difference so no one had to go through what his family had suffered. For once in his life his emotional guard had come down and it had backfired on him. Lexi had used him like she used her social standing to get what she wanted. He had almost lost everything because of her puerile, attention-seeking little game.
When it came down to it, it had been a choice between relocating or sitting back and watching his career implode. To a working-class trainee who had lived on Struggle Street for most of his life, Sam knew that the well-connected and powerful Richard Lockheart could have done some serious damage to his career. He hadn’t taken those threats lightly. He had been lucky enough to be able to switch to the US training programme, and while it had cost him a packet, it had been the best thing he’d ever done. He had worked with some of the world’s leading transplant surgeons and now he was considered one of the best heart-lung surgeons on the planet. Everyone back home had believed he had transferred on a scholarship and he hadn’t said anything to contradict the rumour. Interestingly, neither, it seemed, had Richard Lockheart.
The appointment to SHH had been timely because he had been keen to come home for a couple of years. He missed his homeland and his father. The man was the only family he had. It was time to come home and put the past behind him.
Lexi was a part of his past but she had no place in his future. He had been captivated by her beauty and her alluring sensuality. But her party-girl mentality had been at odds with his career-focussed determination back then—just as much as it was at odds with it now. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by her. Even though the eleven-year age gap was no longer such an issue he didn’t want anything or anyone—particularly not red-hot little Lexi Lockheart—derailing his career plans.
Lexi flicked a strand of hair away that had drifted across her face. ‘How will I contact you?’ she asked.
Sam’s brows snapped together. ‘About what?’
‘About your car,’ she said, with another little mocking quiver of her eyelids. ‘About the dent you need a magnifying glass to see.’
‘Forget about it,’ he said.
‘No, I insist,’ she said, taking out her mobile. ‘I’ll put you in my contacts.’ Her slim, beautifully manicured fingers poised over the data entry key.
And that’s when he saw it.
The diamond engagement ring on her finger seemed to be glinting at him like an evil eye, mocking him, taunting him.
Engaged.
He felt his throat seize up.
Lexi was engaged.
His mouth was suddenly so dry he couldn’t speak. His chest felt as if someone had backed over it with a steamroller. He couldn’t inflate his lungs enough to draw in a breath. His reaction surprised him. No, damn it, it shocked the hell out of him. She was nothing to him. What did it matter if she was engaged? It wasn’t as if he had any claim on her, certainly not an emotional one. He didn’t do emotion. He didn’t even like her, for goodness’ sake. She was an attention-seeking little tramp who thought bedding a boy from the bush was something to giggle about with her vacuous, equally shallow socialite girlfriends. Good luck to the man who was fool enough to tie himself to her.
Lexi looked up at him with an expectant expression. ‘Your number?’ she prompted.
Sam reluctantly rattled it off in a monotone he hardly recognised as his own voice. He had changed his number five years ago as a way of completely cutting all ties. He hadn’t wanted her calling him or texting him or emailing him. He didn’t want that soft sexy voice purring in his ear. It had taken years to get the sound of her voice out of his head.
Engaged.
Sam wondered what her fiancé was like. No, on second thought he didn’t want to know. He’d bet he was a preppy sort, probably hadn’t done a decent day’s work in his life.
Lexi was engaged. Engaged!
It was a two-sentence chant he couldn’t get out of his head. Cruel words he didn’t want to hear.
‘Do you want mine?’ she asked, tucking another wayward strand of platinum-blonde hair away from her face with her free hand. It had snagged on her shiny lip gloss. He guessed it was strawberry flavoured. He hadn’t eaten a strawberry in five years without thinking of the taste of her mouth.
He blinked. ‘Your…er what?’
‘My number,’ she said. ‘In case you want to contact me about the repairs?’
Sam swallowed the walnut-sized restriction in his throat. ‘Your car isn’t damaged.’
She looked at him for a moment before she closed her phone and popped it back in her bag. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s made of much tougher stuff, apparently.’
Sam’s gaze kept tracking to her ring. It was like a magnet he had no power to resist. He didn’t want to look at it. He didn’t want to think about her planning a future with some other nameless, faceless man.
He didn’t want to think about her in that nameless, faceless man’s bed, her arms around his neck and her lips on his.
‘You’re engaged.’
He hadn’t realised he had spoken the words out loud until she answered, ‘Yes.’
‘Congratulations,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
Sam’s gaze tracked back to the ring. It was expensive. It suited her hand. It was a perfect fit. It looked like it had been there a while.
His chest cramped again, harder this time.
He brought his eyes back to hers, forcing his voice to sound just mildly interested. ‘So, when’s the wedding?’
‘November,’ she said, a flicker of something moving over her face like a shadow. ‘We’ve booked the cathedral for the tenth.’
The silence crawled from the dark corners of the basement, slowly but surely surrounding them.
Sam heard the scrape of one of her heels as she took a step backwards. ‘Well, I’d better let you get to work,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t be good to be late for your first day on the job.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That might not go down so well.’
The silence crept up to his knees again before he added, ‘It was nice to see you again, Alexis.’
She gave a tight smile by way of answer and walked off towards the lift, the sound of her heels click-clacking on the concrete floor striking totally unexpected and equally inexplicable hammer blows of regret in Sam’s heart.
