Stripping off her soiled clothes, Cameron picked her way over the sandy bank to the stream below. She rarely came to this spot, except to rinse off from the clinic. The shade provided from the trees surrounding the alcove made the water cooler here than other swimming holes on the island. For this reason, Arabella hated swimming here, but Cameron loved it. When she’d first moved to the island, she would come here to bathe and think. Then, like now, her thoughts often focused on Ian.
Before she’d slipped from the clinic, she’d spotted him standing by Brodie’s bed, his head bent over the baby he cradled in his arms. Even now, the memory made her eyes sting. She’d always believed Ian would make an excellent father. He was funny, caring, stern, but also open and loving. The man used to give the best hugs. And still did. She couldn’t remember ever feeling safer than she did in Ian’s arms. A child would be lucky to grow up with that security. Maybe if their daughter had made it out of the womb, Ian’s embrace could’ve sheltered her from the world’s horrors.
There had been tears on Ian’s face when she watched him. The sight had caused her heart to squeeze painfully and tears to fill her eyes. Had she really thought he hadn’t cried when their daughter died? Yes. Never in her life had she seen Ian shed a tear. Although she’d expected him to break as they’d sat in that hospital in Africa waiting to go home, he never had. After what she’d heard him say, she let herself believe the worst. Each day, while he sat stoically by her bedside as she fell apart, she hated him a little more. Had he really waited until he was alone to let his emotions out, so he wouldn’t upset her? Who would do that? Someone who loves you. The thought of Ian suffering through his loss in silence cracked the few still intact pieces of her heart.
She dipped below the surface of the water, letting the cold water mix with the warm tears on her cheeks.
* * *
Ian was a pervert. He could live with that. Mostly. He hadn’t sent out to ogle Cameron’s wet, naked body. But who could blame him for looking, watching, wanting? Sure, Cameron would blame him. She’d be pissed and want to rip off his growing erection. The thought didn’t bother him like it should. Not when she’d actually have to touch his dick to rip it off. He grew harder just imagining it.
He needed to get laid.
No. Getting laid wasn’t the answer. He’d tried that over the years, though only a few times, and only when the need was too great to ignore. Cameron had ruined him for simple hookups. Getting laid didn’t compare to making love. He’d only ever made love with Cam.
In the stream, Cameron rubbed her hands over her arms, scrubbing at Esme’s blood. Then those hands went to her chest, washing away the grime, cupping her breasts. Ian bit back a groan. Nothing about Cam’s actions were meant to arouse. But every-fucking-thing did. Hell, she could breathe in his direction and have him rock-hard. Watching her touch herself in the moonlight may cause him to need medical attention.
Sheis a doctor.
She disappeared under the water. Holding his breath, he waited for her to resurface. He didn’t even realize he’d inched closer to the stream until she broke the surface and gasped.
“S . . . Sorry.” He held his hands up, as if to prove he meant no harm. “Luci told me this would be a good place to clean up. I didn’t realize you’d be here.” But the other woman probably had.
Cameron slipped down into the water, so only her shoulders were visible. “It’s okay. Nothing you haven’t seen before, anyway. Right?”
Right. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t enjoyed every damn minute of watching her. Even when they’d lived together and he’d seen her naked daily, the sight of her never failed to excite him. Cameron’s beauty wasn’t something a person ever got used to.
“I can go. The shower at the clinic—”
“Sucks.” She lifted a hand from the water, waving off his concern. “I’m finished. I was just enjoying the water.” She lifted her face to the sky. The moonlight shone down on her, causing the drops of water on her skin to sparkle like diamonds. “It’s a nice night. Pretty moon.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied, though he couldn’t tell her if the moon even shone. The sea goddess in front of him held all his attention.
She glided through the water, stopping at the bank. “Turn around,” she instructed.
“What if I promise not to look?” He lifted his hands to his eyes, immediately spreading his fingers to peer through.
Shaking her head, she gifted him with one of her rare, close-mouthed smiles. The gesture and the memories it evoked made his stomach tighten. She lifted a finger, motioning for him to turn.
“Spoilsport,” he grumbled.
Behind him came the sound of water as she moved toward the bank. His body ached to turn to her, to watch her rise like Aphrodite with water streaming down her body. But he wouldn’t win any points by going against her wishes and ogling her. Not to her face anyway.
“You can turn around.”
He wasted no time spinning to face her. She’d slipped a sundress over her still damp body. The linen stuck to her naked breasts. Her nipples puckered against the fabric. Biting his lip, he forced his gaze up over her curves to her face.
She twisted her hair into a knot and secured it on top of her head. “Thank you for tonight. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know that I would’ve been able to go through with the delivery.”
“Yes, you would. You did great. I had nothing to do with that.” He hadn’t. Cameron had been completely in her element. Maybe, after so long, she’d just forgotten what an excellent doctor she was.
“I haven’t performed a cesarean in four and a half years.” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It was my first delivery after Africa. The mother didn’t make it.”
She turned to face the water, but he doubted she saw anything.
He closed his eyes against the pain in her words. Losing a patient was never easy, but losing a mother, bringing a child into the world while its mother passed on was a different kind of hell. He could imagine how Cam’s own birth experience would have compounded the loss.
“In my head, I know I did everything I could for her. She was already in terrible shape. The surgery was basically a last-ditch effort to save the baby, but . . .” Tears shone in the light from the moon. “I always wondered if I was too focused on saving the baby. Was I so determined not to let that mother experience my loss that I overlooked something I could’ve done to save her?”
He thought she’d broken his heart years ago, but that pain didn’t hold a candle to the way her turmoil decimated the organ now.
“Oh, baby.” He drew her into his chest. “You said yourself saving her was a lost cause. You did what you could to gain the best possible outcome. “
“But—”
“No.” Pulling back, he gazed into her bright blue eyes. “You did your best. And you, of all people, know you did exactly what that mother would’ve wanted.”
Tears dripped over her lashes. If given the choice, she would’ve sacrificed herself for their daughter. She told him so daily during her recovery. But there’d been no saving their child.
“Those things you said earlier, were they true? Did you not let me see you cry so I wouldn’t be upset? Did you mourn our daughter? Alone?”
His vision blurred. “I still do.”
As her body trembled with a choked back sob, she clung to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Sorry?” Had she really just apologized to him? “For what? You have nothing—”
“Doubting you. I should’ve known you mourned her. I’m so sorry you had to do that alone.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to fight back his own tears. He’d be lying if he told her he forgave her. Not that he didn’t think he could one day, but that wasn’t today.
“You loved her. I knew you did. Even if you…” She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.
“Even if I what?”
She stared over his shoulder. Refusing to meet his eyes.
“Cam?” He placed his hand on her chin, nudging her to face him.
“Just tell me you loved her. That you wanted her.”