Kate Hardy - The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Bride

Exactly what Max would expect from the Petrellis, being there to help with practical things in a crisis. Part of him wondered: had he and Marina lived in London instead of Bristol, would her family have rallied round them and kept them together, helped them to work things through?

Too late for that now.

‘So when are they going to induce you?’ he asked.

‘It depends how things go. I know that it’s best to deliver the baby as late as possible, but the idea of being stuck here for another seven weeks, having injections and blood taken…’ She grimaced. ‘I tell you, if I was ever scared of needles, I’ve learned to overcome my phobia! Anyway, enough about me. We’re doing fine—aren’t we, Bambino?’ She rubbed the bump and smiled. ‘So, how are you doing?’

‘I’m fine.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. And that’s why you’ve got dark shadows under your eyes and you’re too thin. Don’t try to bluff me, Max.’

‘New city, new job. It takes time to settle in,’ he said lightly.

‘Maybe.’ She gestured to his name-tag. ‘But you’re also working in the emergency department with my sister. That can’t be easy—for either of you.’

He shrugged. ‘We’re professionals. Our patients won’t suffer.’

‘I’m not talking about the patients —I know you’re both professionals. I was talking about you two.’ She reached out and took his hand. ‘I was really sorry when you and Marina broke up.’

‘Tell me about it. He forced himself to keep the words back. ‘Things happen,’ he said lightly.

‘So are you with someone now? What’s she like?’

He’d forgotten the other thing about Marina’s family: they had no scruples about asking personal questions. For a moment, he considered making up a story, but Rosie would know he was lying. ‘There’s nobody,’ he admitted. And then, to stave off further questioning, he added, ‘I spent a few years working for Doctors Without Borders. There wasn’t time for anything other than work.’

He wished he hadn’t said it when Rosie gave him a very perceptive look. ‘So that’s why we never got a Christmas card from you. Hmm. I happen to know someone else who throws herself into work. Someone who either finds excuses not to date, or makes it friends-only after just a couple of dates.’

Rosie wasn’t even trying to be subtle and, although part of him was annoyed, part of him was also amused. The Petrellis were notorious fixers. They were the kind of people who made lemonade out of lemons, who always saw the bright side. It was one of the things he’d adored about Marina; she was unlike anyone else he’d ever met. And the complete opposite of his mother: she saw sunshine where Kay Fenton saw clouds, was light where Kay was intense. Just like the rest of her family. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, Rosie. Marina and I are colleagues. End of.’ He smiled to take the sting from his words.

‘It’s four years now since you split up. You’re both still single. That,’ Rosie said, ‘is extremely telling.’

‘And I think you’ve been teaching too much Romeo and Juliet,’ he said, still managing a smile. It was impossible to be offended with someone who so clearly wanted life to be happy. ‘A nice story.’

She scoffed. ‘Of course it isn’t a nice story. It’s a tragedy, Max. They both die at the end!’

‘And it unites their families.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘You know what I mean. Marina and I won’t be getting back together, Rosie. There’s way too much water under the bridge.’

Rosie gave him a telling look, but to his relief she didn’t try to labour the point. ‘Marina didn’t tell me you were working here.’

He shrugged. ‘I only started a couple of days ago.’

‘Hmm,’ Rosie said.

‘And neither of us knew the other was working here. It was a bit of a surprise for both of us.’

‘I’ll say,’ Rosie said drily.

He ruffled her hair. ‘I have to go. Iris says you have to sit still and be good, or she’ll scalp me. Is it OK if I come back tomorrow?’

‘Of course it is.’ She frowned. ‘Why are you even asking me that?’

‘I don’t want to make things awkward.’

‘With Marina, you mean? Or the rest of my family?’ She patted his hand. ‘Stop worrying. Of course it’s not going to be awkward. If anything, they’ll be pleased I’ve got someone else to come in and nag me to rest.’

He couldn’t help laughing. ‘Good.’

She smiled at him. ‘Thanks for coming, Max. It’s been really good to see you again.’

‘You, too.’ He hugged her, and left for the emergency department.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rosie had told him.

Marina didn’t date.

He hadn’t dated much since he’d split up with Marina, either. Most of the time, he’d been too busy at work to bother with a relationship. But when he’d come back to England and had started dating again something had always been missing. He’d always ended up finishing a relationship before it had even got started.

If he was honest with himself, he knew why: because nobody had ever matched up to his ex-wife.

And Rosie had told him that there was nobody serious in Marina’s life, either.

Quite what that meant, he didn’t know. Did Marina still have feelings for him? But, in that case, surely she would’ve talked to him and asked him to give their marriage another try, instead of sending divorce papers to him? Or maybe marriage to him had disappointed her so much that she wasn’t prepared to try again with anyone else.

The only way to find out was to ask her.

Though, it wasn’t the easiest of subjects to broach. Particularly as they had to work together. Right now, they had a guarded working-relationship; not an easy one, but a tolerable one. Asking the wrong questions at the wrong time could tip it over into being intolerable—which wouldn’t be fair to their colleagues.

Last time, they’d rushed into things, and it had gone spectacularly wrong. This time, maybe he should try being patient.

And when the time was right, Max decided, then he’d ask those questions.

OVER the next week, Marina found herself growing more and more aware of her ex. She knew exactly when Max walked into the department, even if she was busy treating a patient in cubicles and couldn’t see him. And, when they were working together in Resus, she was conscious of every single movement he made. Time and again she found herself glancing at him, only to find that he was looking at her too.

This was insane. They’d crashed and burned last time round. So why couldn’t they keep their eyes off each other?

Every time his hand brushed hers as she handed him an ampoule, or he passed her a syringe, or they looked at an X-ray together, her pulse started racing—because her body still remembered the way he used to touch her: the feel of his skin sliding against hers, the roughness of the hair on his chest, the softness of his mouth as he’d kissed her awake. The scent of his skin, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and dimples appeared in his cheeks when he laughed, the way desire flared in his eyes and turned them from slate-blue to hot black whenever he looked at her.

She really had to get a grip. If this carried on for much longer, she’d go crazy.

She and Max were not an item. They were never going to be an item again. And it was about time her head got that straight.

Rosemary; Max would’ve known that scent anywhere. So Marina still used the same shampoo, then.

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