A Fling to Steal Her Heart

Despite being two years older than her, Raphael had gone out of his way to keep in touch, and they had remained close, despite living in different countries for most of their friendship. She’d briefly worked with him once in Tours, which had been great. Since then? Modern communications systems were the best thing to ever be invented.

Raphael asked, ‘You’re still coming over here for Carly’s wedding, right?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything. It was bad enough not making it to Esther and Harry’s.’ She’d been supposed to fly to London for that, but when the Medical Volunteers Charity asked her to stay on another month because the traumatised Khy family she’d been working closely with still needed her there as stability, she hadn’t been able to say no. They’d needed her, and she’d wanted to be needed. Still did. ‘Flights are booked.’

‘Why not make it a one-way trip? Your girlfriends from midwifery training days are here and all working in the Queen Victoria, although for how long is anyone’s guess with all these weddings going down. Then there’s moi.’

Her laugh was brittle. ‘You make it sound so easy.’ It was. With an English mother getting a work visa for the UK was straightforward. But did she want to go there and be watched over like she was going to come out in a rash for being on her own again? Or questioned about every move she made? Every decision she arrived at? Because Raphael had changed. Since she’d left Darren, come to think of it. He was always questioning what she did, the jobs she chose, the countries they were in. No way did she want put up with any more of that, and living on his back doorstep wouldn’t help. At least she wouldn’t be in his house.

He continued in a coaxing voice. ‘Okay, why I really rang. There is a nurse’s position coming up on my ward if you’re interested. With your midwifery qualifications as well as nursing you’re ideal for the job. The girl who’s leaving hasn’t told anyone other than me yet, and she’s agreed to keep quiet till I talk to you. What do you think?’

‘How soon would I have to start?’ She was stalling, not feeling the excitement that usually stirred when she had an offer on the table to do something new. Weighing up the pros and cons? Unlike her.

‘Jasmine wants to be gone within three weeks. Something about a boyfriend in Canada and a road trip they’ve been planning to do over summer.’

Did she want to return to London? As in really want to? Or should she be staying put, making more of an effort to integrate into Wellington and stop blaming Darren for feeling confused? Making this the home base she’d always wanted?

‘And...ta da, the best bit.’ He paused for effect. Typical Raphael. ‘Don’t forget who’s the charge obstetrician on the ward. Your call, but remember, we work well together.’

That they did. Working as a midwife for those few months in Tours just after she’d finished her midwifery training had been the best job she’d ever had; having her closest friend in the same hospital added to the pluses. He’d shown her the French lifestyle, taken her to Avignon to meet his maternal grandmother and his cousins, tripped all over the country on their days off to show her castles, cities, mountains. Then he’d taken up his current position in London, and she’d met Darren in France while watching a rugby game between the All Blacks and Les Bleus, and the rest was history. A rocky, sorry history, but what didn’t kill her was going to make her stronger. Just not certain when. Not to mention how persuasive Raphael could be when he put his mind to it. ‘You know what?’

‘You’re on your way.’

‘I might be.’

‘Hello? Where’s strong, do-it-her-way-or-bust Isabella gone? You’re coming or you’re not. Which, Izzy?’

She had to make her mind up now? Why not? Raphael was right. She’d always approached life head-on, didn’t usually waste time dithering over decisions, and accepted that when she’d got it wrong it was part of the gamble. Her marriage failure had set her off kilter, made her worry and fuss too much about getting things right or wrong, made her wary of trusting people. Then watching the closeness of the Khys as they struggled to keep their son alive and how they coped after it all went wrong had blitzed her completely.

‘Izzy?’

If taking up a new position back in the city where her nursing friends and Raphael lived turned out to be a mistake, then she’d survive. If Rafe became too bossy she’d tell him what to do with that. But at least they were all there, the people who mattered the most to her. ‘Got to go. Have to pack my bag.’

CHAPTER TWO

TWO WEEKS LATER, as Raphael paced the arrivals hall at Heathrow, Isabella’s text pinged on his phone.

Landed.

About time. Something settled in his gut. Relief? No, this sensation felt stronger, not that he recognised it, but it did make him wary and happy all in one hit. He’d felt this way when Izzy said she was coming to London. His fingers flew over his phone.

I’m waiting in arrivals hall.

The flight was an hour late. Serve him right for getting here early, but he’d been ready to pick up Izzy since crawling out of bed first light that morning. Not even doing a round of his patients and checking on the triplets had quelled the need to get to Heathrow on time, which in his book meant early. Very early. He’d given his regular visit to the market a miss, cursed the traffic holdups all the way to the airport and ranted at the arrivals notice board every time it brought up a new flight arrival that wasn’t Izzy’s. Damn it, he even checked his phone app every time to make sure the board and the app were on the same page. Oui, of course they were. But this hanging around for Isabella was doing his head in.

He couldn’t wait to see her. It seemed ages since she’d married Darren, who in his book was a complete idiot, and left London for what she euphemistically—in his mind, desperately—called home. It had been as though she’d been on a mission to prove something to herself, and she hadn’t told him what it was, which worried him. Yet when Isabella suggested he pay them a visit in Wellington during his leave last year he’d pleaded prior commitments so as to avoid her husband. Unfair, but he and Darren had never seen eye to eye about anything, and especially about the woman they both cared about. Her husband could not get his head around the fact that Raphael and Isabella were close friends, not lovers and never had been, and he kept making digs about how she was his. Yeah, right. Look where that had got the guy. Single again, and still missing the whole point about commitment.

His phone pinged again.

Bring a trailer?

You’ve brought that much gear?

Yep.

Really? Isabella travelled light. Something she’d learned as a Foreign Service brat. While her parents had a container-load of gear follow them wherever they went, Izzy never packed much at all, said carrying only her regular gear around kept her grounded in reality. Did this mean she’d come to London with the idea of staying long term?

Calmes-toi.

There was long term and then there was Izzy’s ingrained version of staying put. They did not match. There’d been nothing to stop her settling in London permanently last time she lived here. But he wasn’t being fair. She had decided to stay here and then along came the husband offering all sorts of carrots in Wellington. She’d always had a thing about returning to the city where she’d been born and partially brought up in, so Darren’s promises raised her hopes of a life there. The failure of said marriage seemed to have screwed with that idea, and stalled her about making any serious decisions over what to do next. Odd, because Isabella was no stranger to being strong and getting what she wanted. But on the other side of that argument, she didn’t always know exactly what she wanted. Hence fast-track midwifery training.

He texted back.

Great.

It was, actually. Could be she’d finally figured out what she was looking for. Given half a chance he’d go back to Avignon and the family tomorrow. But it wasn’t happening any time soon. He’d return there only when he’

d got over the guilt for the way Cassie had treated his nearest and dearest. And stopped feeling angry for the cruel blow she’d hit him with. His son, his parents’ only grandson, dead at eight days from SIDS, and he hadn’t even known he was a father. The pregnancy one more of Cassie’s ways of paying him back for not falling into line with all her outrageous demands.

The doors from the other side swished open as a small group of people towing cases on wheels came through. Swallowing the familiar bitterness and hauling his concentration to what was important today, Raphael craned his neck trying to see around them. No sign of Isabella. Nothing on his phone. ‘Come on. Where are you?’ he ground out. No doubt dealing with the inevitable questions from immigration. He’d take another turn of the hall to fill in some minutes.

Except Raphael remained glued to the spot, his eyes never leaving the doors now that his phone had gone quiet. Hopefully that meant she’d soon burst through the doors like the hurricane she could be. Not that she sounded as revved up these days whenever he talked to her. Her ex had dealt some harsh blows to her confidence. Though there could be more to it than Izzy was telling him.