Chapter Seven
DOMINIC KNEW HE had to get Rachel out of his head. And he decided it would be best to do it in a way he knew only too well. He would lose himself in a woman’s body.
Since Rachel had been back on the scene there had been none of that.
None.
He knew Rachel had put her name down to be at this social event tonight, but he had decided it was time to set new ground rules. Tonight, he fully intended to rediscover the joys of being single and commitment-free and to indulge in some completely meaningless sex.
Dominic was usually very good at that.
‘Dominic! Over here!’
His name was being called from a couple of directions, but Tara waved for him to take the empty seat she had kept for him. They weren’t an item, although they’d got it on at times, but instead of joining her, he gave a vague nod as his eyes scanned the room.
Rachel wasn’t here, he realised.
He ignored the gritting of his jaw when the flash of red hair, which his eyes reluctantly sought, didn’t appear.
Good! he told himself, refusing to acknowledge that the thud in his chest might be born of disappointment rather than relief.
Good, he said again, to himself. It was excellent that his ex-wife wasn’t here, policing his moves.
Except instead of heading over to sit beside Tara, he moved towards the empty seat next to Jordan. They went way back, and had been through medical school together. Dominic had even been best man at his wedding.
‘No Heather?’
‘Nope.’
‘Mind if I join you, then?’
‘Of course. The babysitter cancelled,’ Jordan explained as Dominic took a seat, ‘and frankly I don’t blame her.’
‘Are the twins still wild, then?’
‘Completely.’ Jordan nodded. ‘And Nicholas is following their lead.’
‘Sounds like you need a night off,’ Dominic said.
He knew very well that Jordan was stressed about some upcoming changes to the paediatric unit, as well as bogged down with work, so adding a young family to that mix must only increase the burden.
‘I don’t know how you do it all.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Jordan said as the starter was served.
The saganaki was the best Dominic had tasted, yet he pushed it around his plate, for once not particularly hungry.
The whole meal was delectable, but Dominic didn’t clear his plate. He wasn’t alone—surprisingly Jordan, who loved his food too, didn’t finish, but unlike Dominic, he could explain why.
‘I promised Heather I’d bring home a curry.’
And just when Dominic was starting to question what on earth he was doing, talking toddlers and happy marriages with Jordan when there was Tara pouting petulantly and no doubt waiting for him to take her home, a memory pierced his mind.
.. Ending his shift at the bar and grabbing a curry—because of course he was starving, but also a very pregnant Rachel had had a bit of a craving for it.
As well as a craving for him.
The memory was so vivid, so real, he could almost feel the happiness that had existed between them as he’d walked into their freezing flat.
He’d grabbed some plates from the kitchenette, walked into their ice box of a bedroom, holding up the bag of food like a trophy, then stripped off and climbed into their warm bed.
They’d eaten as if they’d been starved for a week, tearing at the naan bread, scooping up the curry and devouring it. And then had come the best bit. Rachel loved gulab jamun—sweet syrupy balls that they generally didn’t order—but that night he’d surprised her.
They’d already been turned on, but her groan as she’d eaten one had driven him wild, and a gorgeous wrestle had ensued.
Rachel, eight months pregnant and on top of him, sweet, sticky sex, with syrup everywhere, and an orgasm that had had him seeing stars...
It had been followed by a kind of clarity and peace he’d not known since, with his difficult, fickle woman, who revealed so little and only very occasionally blossomed and opened up—but only to him.
And later, with both of Rachel’s cravings satisfied, they’d lain there, feeling the kicks of their baby and trying to decide on a name.
It had perhaps been the most pure and simple happiness he had ever known.
‘Okay,’ Jordan said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. ‘I can’t not tell you.’
Dominic turned. ‘Tell me what?’
‘Heather’s expecting.’ Jordan beamed. ‘We’re beside ourselves because we’re so pleased.’
Dominic looked at his friend, who was smiling delightedly at news that would have had Dominic running for the hills.
Four! Four children, by his rapid calculation all under four, including the terrible twins!
Yet Jordan had always said he wanted a big family, and he and Heather were, from all Dominic could tell, as in love now as they had been on their wedding day.
More so, even.
‘Congratulations,’ Dominic said. ‘You’re a lucky bastard.’
‘Oh, I know I am,’ Jordan said.
Suddenly Dominic wanted what he himself had once known. He wanted that pure and simple happiness again.
The meal ended and it was then that the party kicked off. This would usually have been the time when Dominic would have really started to enjoy himself. But this evening he just could not get into the swing of it—and it had nothing to do with the sparkling water he was drinking.
‘Hey, Dominic!’
Tara was waving him over to the dance floor, but he had absolutely no desire to go over and join her. No desire in that direction at all.
‘You’re quiet, Dominic,’ Jordan commented. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘I’ll just stick to water, thanks,’ Dominic said.
‘Is everything okay?’
Dominic glanced up and frowned at Jordan’s enquiry. ‘Of course.’
‘Only with Rachel working in Emergency...’
‘What?’ Dominic was furious. ‘Did Richard tell you?’
‘No,’ Jordan said. ‘You did—a couple of years ago.’
Dominic closed his eyes and drummed his fingers on the table. The less said about that night the better.
‘You had Heather looking her up on social media, remember—?’
‘Don’t let on that you know,’ Dominic cut in. ‘She’s adamant that she doesn’t want it to get out.’ Christ, it was like trying to keep the lid on Pandora’s Box. ‘I mean it, Jordan.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ Jordan said, ‘but I’m here if you want to talk.’
Jordan left it there, and said he was getting up for one quick dance before heading home.
The Emergency Department certainly knew how to party. People were actually dancing on the tables now, and Dominic was being urged to join in.
Only Tara’s laugh suddenly grated on him, and he didn’t like the possessive way she’d placed a hand on his arm, as if it were up to her to collect him for dancing, so he brushed it off and politely declined.
Tara’s nostrils did that pinched thing—not that Dominic noticed as he headed for the bar and ordered another sparkling water, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
Since Rachel’s return to his life all other women seemed to have lost their appeal.
Although sex had never been as good as it had been between him and Rachel.
She had loved it.
He had loved it.
They had loved it.
Except for that awful first time.
He was laughing quietly to himself about that when he heard a crash and, turning around, saw that a table had collapsed—thanks to the weight of the people doing an impromptu Greek dance on top of it.
There should be no better place to be injured than at an Emergency Department party, but it meant an awful lot of people jostling to be in charge.
‘I’m the only one sober,’ Dominic pointed out as he took over. But one look at Jordan’s shoulder told him this would require more than a simple sling. In fact, it was a nasty injury.
‘We’d better head back to The Primary,’ Dominic said, as he fashioned a sling with his tie and put Jordan’s jacket on him back to front, buttoning it up to hold his arm securely in place.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tara offered.
‘No need,’ Dominic said, because she was seriously starting to annoy him.
There was no need. He escorted Jordan out to his car and drove him to The Primary.
It was pouring with rain, and so, rather than using his priority parking spot, he pulled into the forecourt. ‘Wait there,’ he told Jordan, rather needlessly. ‘I’ll go and find a wheelchair.’
The place was in its usual state of Saturday night chaos, so he knew there was little chance of finding a wheelchair, a gurney or anything useful.
Though there was Rachel.
She had on that long-sleeved top under her scrubs, and her gorgeous hair was in a high ponytail. She was the best thing to have happened to him this Saturday night.
But he could never accuse Rachel of being needy, because far from waving and smiling when she saw him, she gave a slight eye-roll as she came over.
‘What happened?’
‘I couldn’t stay away from the place,’ Dominic quipped. But she didn’t even reward his pale joke with a smile. ‘Jordan fell—he’s fractured his right clavicle. I need a wheelchair but I can’t find one.’
She left him standing as she went and got one.
‘Thanks,’ he said when she returned, and went to take it.
But Rachel didn’t let the handles go. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I can manage. I got him into the car.’
‘And how many fractured clavicles have you got out of a car?’
None.
‘I thought you were going to the do tonight?’ Dominic commented as they walked out of the department.
‘I didn’t know I had to run my social calendar by you.’
‘Fair enough,’ Dominic conceded, and then admitted to himself that he’d missed her being there tonight. That despite all his earlier chat, Rachel was the only woman he’d wanted to see.
Dominic drove a low-slung sports car, but it clearly did nothing to impress her.
‘Even I’d have trouble getting out of that,’ Rachel muttered as they approached, but she dropped the attitude as soon as the car door opened.
‘Hey,’ she said, and smiled to Jordan even as she tried to map out his exit. ‘What happened?’
‘The Zorba dancing,’ Jordan said through gritted teeth as his phone bleeped. ‘Heather’s been calling but I can’t get to my phone. My wife,’ he added, for Rachel’s benefit.