murmured.
For a moment he thought he caught an undercurrent of something. Then she went on.
‘You’re right. It hasn’t been easy,’ she began. ‘But I can’t imagine that being around the house all day, with little else to do but physio and more physio, is helping your medical brain. Plus there’s no doubt you’ll have trauma skills from being out there which we could really benefit from in Civvy Street.’
All of that was true, but it wasn’t what Ben was interested in. He knew he was approaching dangerous territory—they were only just trying to forge a friendship—but he pushed the question anyway.
‘What about the living and working together bit?’ he prompted.
Again that tongue darted out to moisten dry lips, and Ben had to refocus before his brain started going down the wrong path once more.
She coughed, clearing her throat. ‘I think it hasn’t been easy, but we’ve been more open and honest with each other in the last two days than I think we’ve managed in five years. We’re mature, successful professionals, and working together on a professional level should be fine. Plus my contract might not be renewed if I seem opposed to the proposal.’
‘They threatened you?’ So that was why she had been prepared to ask him. He felt disappointed, as well as angry. ‘I’ll have a word with them.’
She paused and swallowed hard.
‘Best not to. Anyway they’re right—you would be an asset. I think we ought to be able to put our personal feelings aside for medical gain.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s only one other sticking point.’
‘Which is...?’ He didn’t understand quite why it galled him that she should be so unemotional about it all.
‘They all think we’re...reunited, I suppose you could say.’
‘We’d have to play a happily married couple,’ Ben realised. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘That bit...’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure we could pull it off.’
He resisted the uncharacteristic impulse to suggest that they might have fun trying.
‘You can tell them I’ll think about it,’ he told her at last. ‘When are they thinking I would start?’
‘How about during my next shift?’
* * *
‘Jack, there’s no way.’ Thea felt panic rising, already bubbling in her throat. ‘That’s just not a good idea.’
‘Sorry, Thea. That’s what the boss said. Ben’s on your team whilst you show him the ropes.’
‘No!’ She could have cried in despair.
‘C’mon, Thea, I know you think that working with a partner can split your focus, but for what it’s worth I’ve never known anyone as professional as you. And Major Abrams... Ben...has a formidable reputation. I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as you fear.’
Thea stared at Jack. His sincerity would have been touching if the entire situation hadn’t been so terrifying. There was no way she could tell him the truth. She couldn’t tell any of her colleagues. She and Ben had started their ‘happily reunited’ charade last week—now they had to live up to that.
Talk about impossible.
She had never taken a sick day in her life. Never missed a single day of work. But right now it was all she could do not to drop everything and run straight through the door to the car park and freedom.
She’d hoped to call Ben’s bluff about not having any problem with him working there, and she’d been surprised when he’d accepted the temporary role. But she’d taken comfort in the fact that at least they wouldn’t be working together.
That, she’d decided, would be a step too far.
And yet here he was, on his first day, assigned to her team. How were they possibly meant to work together when neither of them could bear to be in the other’s company for long? Ever since the pancakes, and their agreement to give friendship a go, they’d made a concerted effort to make small-talk and go out running together. Their strained conversation had been painful and draining. Work had been a welcome escape.
But now they were expected to work together.
Anything else she might have said to Jack stuck in her throat as Ben rounded the corner. She squared her shoulders, conscious of Jack watching them, and strived to regulate her laboured breathing. She had to keep it together.