200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero Read online

  He sat up in bed on a groan, his nudity mocking him. The smell of Olivia, of their joining, infused his senses, refusing to let it be just another bad dream. He ploughed his fingers into the cropped hair covering his bowed head.

  ‘Aaliyah,’ he whispered.

  Hell. He’d promised her he’d love her only. I’m so sorry, my love.

  And now he’d betrayed two women. Aaliyah and Olivia.

  Olivia, who deserved better than some half-man, physically and emotionally crippled.

  But, damn it! She’d got under his skin. Like she had last time. Sneaked in under his defences. And for a little while last night he’d felt alive again. He’d been relying on his work to do that for him this past six months. And it had been working.

  But last night...

  ‘Damn it!’

  Ethan swung his legs over the bed. Work had been more than fulfilling for him. He’d felt accomplished. He’d felt as if he was making a difference—especially when he’d thought his days of making a difference were over.

  When he’d been medically discharged from the military he’d doubted he would ever be fulfilled again. But Leo had given him a way and Ethan had been proud of the Hunter Clinic’s humanitarian programme, developed and nurtured under his leadership.

  And after Aaliyah that was all he’d needed. He was done with everything else. Emotions, relationships. And resigned to it.

  And then along came Olivia.

  And he’d screwed it up a second time. Done something completely unforgivable. Not only betraying the memory of the woman he’d been going to marry but by reaching for Olivia again, whom he’d promised to leave alone.

  Goddamn it!

  Ethan rose from the bed, a slow burn of anger replacing his gloom and disappointment. How could he have done it? Where was his iron-clad self-control? Where was his single-minded focus? Where was his word, damn it?

  He’d promised Aaliyah he’d love her only. Then he’d promised her he’d come back for her. And just last week he’d promised Olivia he’d keep his hands off.

  All broken.

  It seemed he was destined in this life to let everyone down, to destroy all that he held dear. People he loved got hurt, went away. His mother had died and he’d never stopped missing her, even when the truth about her had come to light. And Aaliyah. So passionate and dedicated. Gone too.

  But Olivia, who’d had enough heartache of her own, was still alive, and after nearly destroying her once he wouldn’t do that again. He operated best alone, where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

  He stalked into the bathroom, with a slow simmer of anger in his belly and a skinful of self-loathing for company. He flicked the cold tap on and stepped straight under the spray, hoping to hose them off enough to be able to function today.

  Hoping he could hose Olivia away as easily.

  * * *

  Olivia was at Ama’s bedside when Ethan arrived half an hour later. Ril and Dali had ducked out to get some breakfast. She looked up as he swept into the isolation room. He was in a dark suit with a russet tie and if anything he looked more haggard than ever. The lines she’d first noted around his eyes at their reunion were back with a vengeance and his stubble was now almost a soft beard.

  But the flecks in his eyes flared briefly as his gaze roved over her—checking her for signs of damage, she assumed—and her heart gave a funny lurch in her chest.

  And then she remembered how stupid she’d been. How those golden flecks had made her lose her head. And her clothes.

  And how her focus had to be Ama.

  Ethan watched her expression cool and followed her lead. ‘Olivia.’ He nodded.

  Olivia felt absurdly close to tears at the formality in his voice and the stiffness of his expression. What the...? Clearly some recalcitrant part of her had been hoping that he’d tear down all her well-reasoned objections and whisk her up in his arms. But, like her, he’d obviously decided to focus on Ama and keep things strictly professional between them.

  And that was a good thing.

  ‘Ethan.’ She nodded too, then turned back to Ama.

  Ethan hadn’t been sure what he was going to say or how he was going to act this morning but her coolness helped him decide. Mutual professional respect was the only way forward. They had to see each other and they had to work together, both now and in the future. And to do that they had to forget what had come before. Forget their baggage. Maintain a strictly collegial relationship.

  And keep the hell away from each other in between times.

  Hadn’t they already agreed to that anyway?

  And failed.

  Ethan pushed it all away, slipping into a skin he knew well—Mr Hunter. ‘How is she this morning?’ he asked.

  They had a ten-minute conversation about Ama’s progress and the plan for the next few days, which involved removing the tracheostomy and getting her out of ICU. Ril and Dali returned then, and Ethan and Olivia had a long talk with them about the previous night and what the next days and the next steps were for Ama.

  Ril was worried about her daughter still, but encouraged by her progress, and Olivia assured her again that she would be with them all until Ama was well enough to go home and she would be the one taking them back to Africa.

  Ril smiled as Dali translated, patting and rubbing Olivia’s arm, nodding and speaking words of gratitude in her own tongue as tears shone in her eyes. Olivia was extraordinarily moved by Ril’s faith.

  When Ril was satisfied she returned to the chair by her daughter’s bed and Ethan turned to Olivia and said, ‘They want us to sit in on the ICU round—you want to join me?’

  Olivia nodded. She did want to be able to co-ordinate Ama’s care with the ICU doctors.

  ‘It’s starting now. Shall we?’ he said, and indicated for her to precede him out of the room.

  Olivia told Dali where they were going and then walked ahead of Ethan, conscious of his gaze on her back. Conscious that only a handful of hours ago she’d been in his bed. Conscious that, under her coat, she was wearing the same clothes he’d stripped her out off. That his smell clung to her skin. That the evidence of her arousal and their unprotected sex had mingled to feel all hot and slick between her legs.

  ‘Whereabouts?’ she asked, her head slightly turned.

  Ethan fell into step beside her. ‘End of the corridor, turn right, third door on the left.’

  She didn’t acknowledge him, just followed along silently beside him, and he took a breath and broached the subject of the elephant stomping along beside them.

  ‘About last night...’ he said.

  ‘No.’ Olivia shook her head vigorously, not breaking stride as her heart did a crazy leap in her chest. She’d been sure he’d be in ostrich mode. ‘Let’s not do this, okay?’

  Ethan tried to keep it casual as they walked down the very public corridor. He wanted to get this thing between them on to an even keel as fast as possible, and the only way to do that was to clear the air about what had happened at his place last night.

  They couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened. That was a sure-fire way to breed resentment.

  ‘We do need to talk about it, Olivia. Hell,’ he said lowering his voice, ‘I didn’t even use a condom.’

  That particular little gem had come to him in the shower.

  The fact that it hadn’t even crossed his mind at the appropriate time had been shocking. He wished it had—not least of all because he didn’t have a condom anywhere in his apartment and that would definitely have brought them both to their senses. There’d certainly be no need for this awkward morning-after conversation, walking down a busy corridor in a children’s hospital, whispering about unprotected sex as if they were teenagers!

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ Olivia demanded. ‘I’m not wearing any underwear. Trust me,
I know. And I know we need to talk about this, and we will,’ she said. ‘Just not now. Not while Ama’s still in ICU, okay?’

  Ethan nodded, clamping down hard on the leap in his pulse and the hitch in his breath at the thought of her going commando. Things stirred and he battered them down with all the authority of a dictator crushing a revolt.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Okay, sure,’ he agreed.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  And they both continued in silence.

  * * *

  That was pretty much the pattern for the next few days. Quick, professional meetings involving stilted conversations about Ama and her progress. Nothing personal, just medical.

  Day two post-op Ama’s tracheostomy was removed and she was moved to HDU. They had none of the opiate problems that had been the catalyst for her post-op bleed and Ama, although quiet and exhausted from her unexpected complications, improved every day.

  Two days later she was back on the ward and Olivia was finally starting to feel that they had turned a corner. Ama wasn’t back to her full cheeky, happy self, but she was showing interest in the world around her again and even asked for the television to be put on.

  Olivia thought that was real progress, and for the first time since the operation actually allowed herself to think about other things.

  Naturally her thoughts turned to Ethan.

  * * *

  Ethan, on the other hand, whilst exceedingly pleased with Ama’s progress too, was increasingly crotchety and frustrated.

  He hadn’t been able to sleep since Olivia had slept in his bed. At first he’d thought it was just her scent keeping him up, but he’d changed the sheets to no avail.

  He lay awake for hours, his brain circling around what he’d done, his gut heavy, and when he slept it was with strange dreams of Aaliyah and Olivia. He was chasing them both as they ran from him, teasing him with their laughter, only to catch one and watch as her face blended into the other. Changing back and forth until he didn’t know whether he was holding Aaliyah or Olivia.

  It took him two sleepless nights to realise that the feeling of a lead weight in his belly was his guilt flaring to life again. This bed had belonged to Aaliyah, even though she’d never slept in it. She’d come to him in his dreams here, and as much as they’d tortured him with their heartbreaking clarity they’d also kept him close to her.

  He’d used to welcome the night and sleep, when he could be with her again.

  But now Olivia was in the bed too. In his head. And the guilt was eating him up.

  After that realisation the dreams changed. They became bloody and disturbing. They became nightmares. Slices of that awful day when all hell had broken loose magnified tenfold in his head.

  The heat and the smoke. The noise of bombs and gunfire. The blood. The carnage.

  Aaliyah’s, ‘Go, Ethan, I’ll be fine,’ played like a broken record, waking him in a cold sweat.

  Driving him out of the bed. Their bed. But not any more. Because Olivia was in it too. In his head again.

  The empty bed mocked him. He was alive and getting naked with Olivia when Aaliyah was dead. Dead because he hadn’t got back to her in time.

  A few weeks ago he would have poured himself a drink or twelve. But something had changed—he didn’t seem to crave it as he had. As his father had.

  Ethan had worried that there was some genetic component and he would turn out like his old man, become the type of person he’d despised in his father.

  It was a relief to realise he didn’t need it.

  He headed for his home gym instead and pounded it out on the leg press and treadmill. Filling his head with Aaliyah, trying not to think about Olivia. Trying to exercise—exorcise—his guilt into oblivion. Trying to exhaust himself.

  He needed to sleep.

  A tired surgeon made mistakes!

  * * *

  On the morning of day five Olivia was going slightly stir-crazy from spending all day cooped up in the hospital. She hadn’t had any form of exercise in weeks now and she was beginning to feel it. As a jogger, she usually pounded the pavements wherever she was, but going out in a freezing London morning was not something she welcomed.

  Instead she decided to take up Leo on his offer of using the Hunter Clinic pool in the basement next to the gym. It was heated, and she could slip in there early, while no one was around, do some laps and be dressed and at the hospital by eight.

  She needed to do something. Dali had texted her to say that Ama wanted to see her new face. They’d all seen it and were very happy with how it looked—Ril had even cried—but Ama hadn’t been interested. Olivia had been concerned about her reaction but Ethan had put it down to her extended recovery time and assured her it was fine, that Ama would get to it in her own time. That she needed to be ready.

  And she was ready today.

  Olivia was both nervous and excited, with butterflies dancing in her stomach whenever she thought about how Ama might react. She hoped she would be pleased. She hoped the old cheeky Ama would be back.

  But in the interim she had to do something to rid herself of her nervous energy and, lucky for her, she always packed a swimsuit wherever she went!

  * * *

  Ethan increased the speed on the treadmill, trying to outrun the thoughts pounding through his head. He was using the clinic gym because his whole apartment, not just his bed, seemed to remind him of Olivia now. After being away from it for a decade and coming back to it again with Aaliyah’s death still so fresh, it, along with his head space, had felt exclusively hers.

  The place they would have lived. The kitchen they would have cooked in. The couch they would have snuggled on.

  The bed they would have slept in.

  But now Olivia was there too.

  Sure, she’d been there before. Had spent a lot of time at his place. But that had been a long time ago—in a different lifetime practically. When he’d been spoiled and angry and unworthy of her love. Of anyone’s love.

  When he’d thought he’d been as injured as he could possibly be. Man—had he been mistaken!

  Because a lot had happened since then. Aaliyah. His injuries. And now Olivia.

  Who was everywhere in his apartment.

  He’d had to get out.

  * * *

  Olivia heard a machine’s noise and some grunting as she headed to the pool/gym area and hesitated for a second. She’d thought this early she’d be here by herself. But all she wanted to do was swim. A little bit of splashing surely wouldn’t disturb anyone doing a workout. Especially not if they were making that much noise.

  And maybe it was Leo. She needed to give him an Ama update anyway.

  But as she walked closer she realised it wasn’t Leo. It was Ethan. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, exposing his broad back and shoulders completely to her view. A back and shoulders she’d know anywhere. The same back and shoulders she’d clung to the other night as he’d pounded into her like a man possessed.

  Sweat beaded on his nape and in the furrow of his spine as his traps, rhomboids and lats bunched and relaxed with each yank on the rowing machine handle. He was gliding frantically back and forth on the seat as if he was rowing for gold—or trying to outrun his demons.

  Olivia almost turned and walked away and left him to his punishing exercise. There was no way he could have heard her above the noise of the machine and his own significant exertion. But they still hadn’t talked, and she figured now Ama was better and they were alone it was as good a time as any.

  She took a breath and continued towards him, leaning her butt against a nearby bench press apparatus.

  Ethan started as the woman he’d been trying to row out of his head appeared beside him in a white fluffy robe tied loosely at the waist.

  He almost groaned out loud. Did she have
to be everywhere?

  He turned back to concentrate on his workout, zoning her out of his peripheral vision as he regained his rhythm and rowed harder.

  Olivia watched him ignoring her for a few moments, his eyes locked on the screen in front of him, where his programmed workout was ticking down. Her gaze dropped to his chest. She hadn’t meant it to—it just did. The light smattering of hair across his pecs and bisecting his belly was so familiar to her, yet she didn’t recall being conscious of it the other night.

  Nothing but his mouth on hers and his hardness inside her had registered.

  Annoyed at the direction of her thoughts, she folded her arms and asked in a raised voice, ‘So, are there any sexually transmitted diseases I should know about?’

  CHAPTER TEN

  OLIVIA WAS SORRY that she got no discernible reaction from Ethan save for a tightening of his jaw. He just continued to pull on the handle of the rower and glide back and forth with powerful precision.

  She wasn’t actually worried about it. She was on the pill and Ethan, for all he could have been with his looks and his money, had never been a man whore. Or casual with contraception. They’d had a lot of sex and never not used a condom, despite her already being protected against pregnancy.

  But it had been ten years, and in lots of ways the man before her was more of a stranger now than he’d ever been.

  And weren’t men in uniform supposed to have women throwing themselves in their paths?

  Her gaze dropped to the bunching of muscles in his arms as they bent and straightened, bent and straightened. Ethan must have been a sight to behold in combat gear. All tall and broad, his tight butt emphasised by his long-legged stride. What girl could have resisted that when combined with his charming smile and his penchant for going all shaggy with his stubble?

  She could imagine him right at home in some rocky barren landscape in the middle of nowhere, doing what he did best—saving lives.

  A minute later the machine beeped and Ethan, his thighs screaming, eased back on the pace, gliding up and down the rower more sedately now as he allowed his muscles and his temper time to cool down.