What was flowering between them was a gift-a gift so precious that none could deny it.
Certainly not Fern.
Her body arched against him and she heard herself give a soft moan of sheer ecstasy.
He broke away then, holding her at arm’s length, her bloodstained blouse falling back into position. His eyes were dark and demanding, claiming his own.
‘This is right,’ he said, and his voice was thick with suppressed passion. ‘Hell, Fern, you can’t marry Sam after this. You know you can’t’
‘I know…’ Her voice trailed to a whisper.
‘You belong with me.’ His hands gripped more tightly, possessive and urgent ‘You feel it too, don’t
you, Fern? Whoever else has claims-on either of us-we’re one, Fern Rycroft. I felt it the moment I set eyes on you-and we’re wasting time by denying it…’
‘S-Sam…’ Fern whispered. ‘I have to speak to Sam…’ Her tired mind was going round and round in circles. She only wanted to be with this man-with Quinn, with her heart-and yet she was still engaged to Sam. She shouldn’t be here, letting Quinn make love to her, when in the next room her fiancé was fighting for his life.
‘You have to speak to Sam,’ Quinn agreed, pulling her tight to him again. ‘And I…I have organising of my own to do. But that’s all it is, my lovely Fern. Reorganising our lives so we can be in our rightful place. Together.’
‘I don’t know,’ Fern whispered. Her heart was thumping with fear, doubt and passion all at the one time. ‘Maybe…’
‘There’s no “maybe” about it, Fern Rycroft,’ Quinn growled thickly into her hair. He tilted her chin again so she was looking wonderingly up at him. ‘There’s only us.’
‘Are you still here?’
A woman’s light voice, calling from the doorway around the partition from the sink, was the first thing that intruded from the outside world.
Heaven knew how long the voice had been calling. The kiss was deep enough to blot out all but the loudest of alarms.
Quinn swore unsteadily as the lingering kiss finally ceased and they pulled apart. He didn’t release Fern entirely, though-just pulled her round to stand beside him, his arm still encircling her waist.
It seemed almost a gesture of propriety, of possessiveness, though Fern still felt that she’d topple over without his supporting arm. The combination of weariness, shock, relief and…and the nearness of Quinn…was making her dizzy.
It was Jessie.
The young vet peered anxiously around the partition and smiled with relief when she saw them.
‘Here you are. I was starting to think Quinn must have driven you home, Fern, and I rang your uncle hours ago to tell him we’d give you a bed here.’
‘C-can you?’ The feeling of unreality was deepening, if anything.
‘Of course we can.’ Jessie smiled from Quinn to Fern, seemingly oblivious to the position of Quinn’s arm and the burning colour of Fern’s cheeks. ‘Lizzy’s in the ward with your aunt, though, so you can’t stay there. We’ve packed Lizzy with hot-water bottles and sedated her. Her temp’s back up to normal. She was still restless until you finished in Theatre and one of the nurses came in to tell her Sam would most likely live. Now she’s sleeping like a baby.’
‘You…you sedated her?’
‘Needs must,’ Jessie grinned. ‘It’s not so different from sedating a horse.’ Then, at Fern’s look, she laughed and relented. ‘OK, Quinn gave me instructions before he went to Theatre-while you were prep-ping Sam.’
‘I…I see…’
‘I don’t think you see very much at all,’ Jessie corrected her kindly. ‘Fern, you look as exhausted as Lizzy. Bring her down to bed, Quinn…’
‘But…’
‘I have a huge bedroom and two beds,’ Jessie assured her. ‘And I take my parrot up to the kitchen at night-so there’s no need to worry about anything but my snoring. Quinn, you’re not going to bed yet?’
‘Not yet. Not until Sam’s fully recovered from the anaesthetic and settled into natural sleep. It could be a couple of hours.’
‘Then Fern and I had better sleep so that at least someone’s functioning in the morning.’ Jessie’s kindly eyes assessed Fern’s face. ‘Can you walk, Fern, or does Quinn have to carry you?’
‘I can…’
She couldn’t.
Fern didn’t finish her sentence. Quinn had already swung her up in his arms and was heading for the door, squeezing all the protest out of her.
‘For a very clever vet, you ask some very silly questions, Jess,’ he smiled back at the vet, but the tenderness on his smile was all for Fern. ‘My lady has her own method of transport.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
FERN slept the sleep of the dead.
When finally she woke the sun was pouring in over her bedcovers and Jessie was walking towards the bed carrying a tray.
‘Bacon on toast and coffee,’ she smiled. ‘Hungry?’
‘Y-yes.’ Fern rubbed her eyes.
Then she rubbed them again. Jessie seemed to have grown a new breast in the night.
As she stared, the middle breast wriggled.
‘OK, you,’ Jessie said placidly, cradling the extra breast in the cup of her palm. ‘I know it’s time for another feed.’
She grinned down at Fern’s look of astonishment.
‘I’ve won another baby in the night,’ she said. ‘A
tiny wombat. One of the local farmers found it in his back paddock when he went to check on a calving. I’m not sure of its chances-it seems badly shocked-but this way at least it has a hope. My movement, warmth and heartbeat are the closest approximation I can get to his mum.’
‘I…see…’
This place was a madhouse. Hospital, home, veterinary clinic, orphanage…
They were so busy. It was great of Jessie to bring her breakfast. Fern glanced at the bedside clock.
And glanced again.
Eleven o’clock!
It couldn’t be.
‘It sure is,’ Jessie smiled, seeing Fern’s look of astonishment. ‘I thought if you didn’t have this now you’d be running breakfast into lunch. Besides…’ she sat down on the bed in comfortable companionship, still stroking her wriggling extra breast ‘…the air ambulance is due in half an hour to take Sam to the mainland and we thought you’d want to say goodbye.’
‘Oh…Of course…’ Fern took the mug of coffee with gratitude. She sipped and sipped again and her crazy world finally tilted back to the right way up. ‘How is…how is Sam?’
‘His obs are good so far,’ Jessie told her. ‘Quinn has the morphine so topped up he’s hardly conscious-but his blood pressure’s holding and Quinn’s happy with his electrolytes and his haemoglobin level. Things are looking good.’
‘And Lizzy…?’
Jessie cast her a sideways look. ‘She’s packing.’
‘Packing!’
‘That’s what I said. Quinn told her an hour ago that Sam was being taken to Sydney for plastic surgery and she flew out of bed and headed home. She said she’d be back with a suitcase and if we let Sam go without her she’d murder the lot of us.’
‘Oh…’
‘It seems Sam Hubert has some decisions to make,’ Jessie said gently, her eyes warm with sympathy, but Fern shook her head.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think he has.’
Her clothes from the night before were disgusting. Jessie had lent Fern a nightgown to sleep in and now she offered a light skirt and blouse.
‘It’s lucky we’re almost the same size,’ Jessie smiled, and Fern shook her head.
‘Your blouse hangs loose.’ Fern grimaced and gave the top button of the skirt up as a lost cause. ‘You’re too darned thin.’
‘Yeah, well, I haven’t always been this thin. There are silver linings to every dark cloud,’ Jess said enigmatically.
Once again Fern looked at the dark shadows around Jessie’s eyes and wondered.