Australian Affairs: Tempted: Tempted by Dr. Morales

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JUAN KEPT A very neat kitchen. All evidence was removed—he even tied up her halterneck for her—and then he parked Cate on a bar stool and threw her expensive knickers in the bin. He handed a glass of wine to her.

‘Better?’ Juan said.

‘Better.’

She couldn’t believe it. Five minutes in his house and she’d had the best orgasm she had ever had. She felt a little stunned, a little breathless but enjoying the view. She was sipping her wine as if it was normal to watch him cook and see the scratches on his back that had come from her.

‘Can I help?’ Cate offered, because wasn’t that what you were supposed to say?

‘Relax,’ was Juan’s response.

It was bizarre that, for the first time around him, she could relax properly.

Juan picked up the knife that had sliced her panties and with a smile that was returned he carried on chopping the salad.

He could chop too.

Fast, tiny, thin slices.

‘You’ve done that before.’

‘I helped in the family business,’ Juan said. ‘After school and during medical school. My family have a…’ he hesitated for a moment, perhaps choosing the right word ‘…café.’ He moved and took the fish steaks out of the fridge and she heard the sizzle as they were added to the pan.

‘They smell fantastic,’ Cate said. ‘What was the marinade?’

‘Chimichurri,’ Juan said. ‘It is Argentinian. There are many variations but this is my mother’s recipe that I make for you tonight.’

It was soon ready and they took the food outside to the table that had been laid. There was even a candle and, as she took the seat looking out to the ocean, Cate blinked a little when he put a plate in front of her. It looked amazing.

‘You can cook too!’

‘You haven’t tasted it yet.’

‘Ah, but it’s all in the presentation.’

‘No.’ Juan smiled as he sat opposite her. ‘It is no good to look beautiful and taste of nothing, or, worse, when you do bite into it, to find out it is off.’

‘Well, it’s a treat to have someone cook for me,’ Cate said. ‘It’s beans on toast more often than not at mine.’

Cate loaded her fork. Of course she was going to say it was lovely, of course she would be polite, she meant what she had said, it was nice to be cooked for, but, more than that, it could taste like cardboard and the night would still be divine.

‘Oh!’ She forgot her manners completely, spoke with her mouth still full as she took her first taste. ‘It’s amazing.’

It was. The fish was mild and so fresh it might just as well have jumped out of the ocean and landed on her plate, yet the marinade…Cate was not particularly into food unless it was called ice cream, but there was a riot happening on her tongue.

‘It is very fresh…’ Juan took a bite ‘…and my mother’s chimichurri is the best.’

‘I think I’m having another orgasm,’ Cate said.

‘Oh, you will later,’ Juan said. ‘And you won’t think, you’ll know.’

But there was only so much you could say about fish and, with sex out of the way, conversation turned a touch awkward at first. They knew little about each other, and it was supposed to be that way, Cate told herself, but she couldn’t help asking about his homeland when he spoke briefly about it.

‘Do you miss it?’

‘No,’ Juan admitted. ‘I speak to my family a lot and to my friends, of course.’

‘What made you decide to travel?’

‘The woman who rings…’ There was a tight swallow in Cate’s throat as she found out a little about the man. ‘Martina. We were engaged but it didn’t work out. I think when any relationship ends you start to question things,’ Juan said. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I guess.’ Cate took a swallow of her wine.

‘Did you?’ Juan pushed, when normally he didn’t. Normally he didn’t want to know more, but with Cate he did.

‘A bit.’ Cate gave a slightly nervous lick of her lips and put down her knife and fork. ‘That really was delicious.’ She tried to change the subject, but Juan pushed on.

‘Really, my parents were never pushy with my education. They thought I would join them in the family business but I wanted to do medicine, so I spent a lot of time studying as well as working part time for them. I never really took some time to do other things I wanted.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘Now seemed like a good idea. I think it is good to step back. It is very easy to get caught up in the rat race…’

Cate shook her head. ‘I don’t see it as a rat race. I have no desire to step off.’

‘None?’

Cate took a deep breath, felt the bubble of disquiet she regularly quashed rise to the surface. ‘I’m not sure that I’m happy at work.’ She looked at his grey unblinking eyes. ‘I’m not unhappy, but sometimes…’ Her voice trailed off and Juan filled the silence.

‘Is that why you considered being a paramedic?’

Cate nodded. ‘But it’s not for me.’

‘What is for you?’

‘I’m working that out,’ Cate admitted. ‘Don’t you miss anaesthesia?’

‘No,’ Juan admitted. ‘I expected that I would and I admit I enjoyed looking after Jason the other day, but I don’t miss it as much as I thought I might. I had a lot of ego,’ Juan said, then halted, not wanting to go there. ‘I like Emergency, that was where I started, then I did anaesthesia and was invited to a senior role. I enjoyed it, but being back in Emergency I realise how I enjoy that too.’

‘And your fiancée?’

‘Ex.’

‘Who still calls regularly.’

Juan grinned. ‘She misses me, can you blame her?’

‘Did it end suddenly?’ Cate knew she was teetering outside the strange rules of a non-relationship—it was just that she wanted to know more about him.

‘Yes.’

‘Were you…?’ Cate’s voice trailed off.

‘I can’t answer a question if you don’t ask it.’

‘Were you cheating?’

‘No,’ Juan said. ‘I took our engagement seriously. It was ended by mutual agreement—now it would seem that she has some regrets.’

Cate looked at him, looked at that full mouth, slightly taut now, saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. He wasn’t over her, Cate knew it.

And Martina wasn’t over him, Cate could guarantee that. Imagine having that heart and losing it?

‘All I’ve learnt is that nothing lasts for ever,’ Juan said. ‘So enjoy what you have now, live in the moment…’

‘Well, that’s where we’re different,’ Cate said, hoping that he’d leave things there, but Juan did not. His hand reached across the table and took her tense one.

‘Why so cautious?’

She looked up, looked at him, and he saw the tiny creases form beside her eyes.

‘We’re just talking,’ Juan said lightly, but he wanted to know more.

‘Having three brothers makes you so…’ She attempted to sound dismissive but it was an impossible task. ‘All my brothers were quite wild, but my middle brother decided to steal a car with his girlfriend when he was eighteen,’ Cate said. ‘I was nine. He nearly killed his girlfriend—I just remember the chaos, the hospital, the court cases, what it did to Mum and Dad…“Thank God for Cate,” Mum and Dad always said. I never caused them a moment’s worry, I guess it became who I thought I was…’ She looked back up. ‘Now I’m trying to find out who I am. So, yes…’ She gave a tight smile. ‘I guess the end of a relationship makes you examine things.’

She was trying not to examine things a little later as they headed to his bedroom and she saw that huge white bed. She was trying to live in the now—except she knew she would remember and miss him for ever.

He undressed her and she was more nervous than when she’d arrived at his door as he took off his boots, as he kicked them to the floor, because a night in his arms was simply not enough.

He pulled her to the bed.

‘You’re shaking?’

‘I…’ She didn’t know what to say. In Juan’s world the bedroom wasn’t the place to tell him you had the terrifying feeling that you loved him. ‘The air-conditioning,’ Cate said, and she lay there as he went to turn it down, lay in his bed and replayed his words, told herself she could just enjoy what they had now.

As he climbed into bed and started to kiss her, at first her response was tentative. It was too late to be chaste, Cate told herself, and, yes, there was the heaven of his touch.

She felt the skin of his back beneath her fingers, felt the strength of his arms pulling her closer, and she was a mire of contrary feelings, because she wanted this and yet she was scared to give in. His tongue was as necessary as water to her mouth, his scent embedded in her head for ever and his touch almost more than her heart could handle. Her hands moved over his shoulder, to his neck and then her fingers paused, felt the ridge at the back of his neck. Then Juan’s hands were there, moving hers away.

Again.

Her eyes opened to him and they stared for a moment, still kissing, but a part of him was out of bounds and he felt her withdraw, knew that tonight was about to end, and he didn’t want it to, so Juan moved to save it.

Cate felt the shift in him. It was more than physical—he dragged her back to him, not with passion but with self; he just brought her back to him with his mouth.

He kissed down her neck and to her breasts and Juan lost himself for a moment, just lingered. He wanted her hot beneath him, he wanted them both sated, or he usually did, but tonight he let himself pause. He tasted her skin and licked and caressed with his mouth and then moved down.

She could feel the scratch of his unshaven jaw, such a contrast to the warm wetness of his mouth.

‘I’ll be sitting on ice tomorrow.’

It was her last feeble attempt at a joke, because she felt like crying from the bliss. His mouth, his touch, was slow but not measured. There was no blueprint—he followed her gasps and breaths, guided by them. It was more than sex. Her hands went to his head to halt him, scared to hand herself over, and then she felt his tongue’s soft probe and heard the moans from him—and she gave in to being adored.

Juan hadn’t done this in a long time; he hadn’t been so enchanted ever. He buried his tongue in warm folds and she gave in to his intimate caress. Cate wanted him to stop, because she could feel herself building, in a way she never had. She wanted the trip of orgasm, a textbook pleasing, not the new feeling of delayed urgency he stoked.

‘Stay still.’ He wasn’t subtle, he held her legs wider open and she looked down at him. Every stroke of his tongue was dictated by her response and when she sobbed he went in more firmly; when she arched, his mouth held her down. He tasted her, he ravished her.

He adored her.

Why, she was almost begging as his mouth took her more fervently. Why did he have to take all of her? Why did he have to show her how good things could be? She was coming and fighting it; she was loving it and scared of it, scared of loving him.

Juan held her in his mouth and he just about came himself as he felt her throb and finally still.

‘Cate.’ He said her name as he slid up her body. He did not allow her time to calm; he had taken her rapidly once and she sobbed now as he took her slowly. It was torture to be locked with him, to be consumed by him, to gather speed together with each building thrust.

Cate arched into him, her orgasm a race down her spine and along her thighs. The powerful thrusts of him had her dizzy, the feel of his final swell that beckoned his end was like a tattoo being etched in her mind. And then he collapsed on top of her; incoherent thoughts were voiced. It was a moment she would never forget.

‘We could have had three months!’ Breathless, Juan berated the time lost to them.

Breathless, Cate thanked God she had waited, because she couldn’t have given him months of this with the end looming.

She was beyond confused; his bed was no place to examine her true feelings, because she was only here for one night, except both knew they had just gone too far.

They both lay, pretending to be asleep, until finally they were—but it was an uneasy sleep, a difficult sleep. Cate didn’t want to get too close to the man who lay beside her and Juan, with a mind that raced through the dark hours, chose not to hold onto her throughout the night.

Juan woke at two.

He always did.

He moved his legs, just a little, he moved his hands and then remembered Cate’s hands on his neck and the look they had shared. He wondered if she might guess.

Asleep, she rolled into him and after a moment he put his arm around her; the luxury of that she could not know. He allowed himself the bliss of contact as he faced tomorrow—the anniversary of the wedding that hadn’t happened was the day he had dreaded the most.

He dreaded another day now, one week on Tuesday when he left Australia. It was already drawing eerily close.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘HOLA, MAMÁ!’

Cate lay in bed, awaiting the promised coffee, but since Juan had got up his phone had rung three times and she had listened to him chatting away in the kitchen in Spanish, sounding incredibly upbeat.

Cate felt anything but.

Last night had been amazing, possibly the best night she had ever had, except she had got too close, had given away too much. Not just with words; last night had been way more intimate than she had intended.

Perhaps more intimate than Juan had intended too, for he didn’t quite meet her eyes when he walked into the bedroom and waited while she sat up in bed and then handed her a mug. ‘Sorry that the coffee took so long.’

‘Is it your birthday?’

‘No,’ Juan answered. ‘Why?’

‘All the calls?’

‘Just family.’

He wasn’t so upbeat now; if anything, things between them were back to being a touch awkward.

‘What time are you working?’ Juan asked.

‘Twelve,’ Cate said, glancing at the clock. ‘What about you?’

‘I have the rest of the week off till Friday. I have to move out of here on Tuesday.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘I am staying with a couple of nurses I met, travelling, who work at the Children’s Hospital.’

Nurse Purple Face, Cate thought. This was big-girl’s-pants time: it was time to hide the truth and lie; it was time to smile and pretend it had been good while it lasted.

Good didn’t even come close.

Cate gulped down her coffee and then climbed out of bed. ‘Well, I’m going to head home.’ She started to pull on her clothes.

‘Have a shower,’ Juan offered. ‘I’ll find a towel…’

‘I’ll get one at home.’ She didn’t want a beach towel or a Juan towel wrestled from a backpack. She wanted a cupboard with towels in it and a home that wasn’t about to be abandoned without a backward glance a couple of days from now.

Even if the views were to die for.

Even if it had been fun.

‘I’ll see you.’ He gave her a kiss and she returned it briefly, because it was very hard to not ask when, not to know if this was the last time.

‘Cate…’ He walked her to her car. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘Sure.’

His phone was ringing again and she gave a cheery wave and drove off, her hands so tight around the steering-wheel that she turned the wipers on instead of the indicators as she turned into her street. She ignored the horn and the abuse from a driver behind.

She waved to Bridgette as she climbed out of her car.

‘What time do you call this?’ Bridgette joked, and Cate gave another wave and bright smile but it died the moment the door closed.

Pull yourself together, Cate, she told herself.

She’d done it.

Slept with him.

Succumbed to him.

Now she just had to work out how to put together the pieces of her heart…

‘Are you even listening?’ Kelly asked as they sat in the staffroom, waiting for their shift to commence.

‘Sorry?’ Cate said. ‘I was miles away.’

‘It must be hell for those firefighters,’ Kelly said, pointing to the news. ‘Imagine having to wear all that gear in this heat and be near the fires.’

Cate couldn’t imagine it. The fires were inching closer. It took up half the news at night and everyone was just holding their breath for a change to cooler weather to arrive, but there was still no sign of it.

They headed around to work and, though it would be tempting to hide in the office she still hadn’t got around to sorting out, there were, of course, a whole heap of problems to be dealt with.

‘I’m not happy to send him home, Cate,’ Sheldon said.

There was a child, Timothy, who Sheldon had referred to the paediatricians. They had discharged the boy but Sheldon wasn’t happy and wanted a second opinion.

Cate agreed with him, except Dr Vermont had called in sick.

Again.

Which meant there was no senior doctor to call in.

‘What about Harry?’ Sheldon said, but Cate shook her head.

‘Harry needs this weekend,’ Cate said. ‘Unless there’s a serious emergency, we should try not to call him. I’ve let him know that Dr Vermont is sick but…’

‘What about Juan?’ Sheldon suggested. ‘He’s senior.’

She could not face calling him, so instead she asked Frances on Reception to ring and ask if he could come in.

‘He’s not available today.’ Frances came off the phone and then smiled as Jane, a new ward clerk, came over. ‘I’ve got a job for you,’ Frances said. ‘Start from here and work your way down and see if you can get any of these doctors to cover from now until ten p.m. I’ve already tried the names that are ticked.’

Cate stood there as Timothy’s screams filled the department and his anxious mum came racing out.

‘Do you really think he should be going home?’ she demanded.

‘We’re just waiting for someone to come and take another look at Timothy,’ Cate said. ‘Kelly, can you go and run another set of observations on him…’ Cate let out a breath then turned to Sheldon. ‘I’ll ring Harry.’

Harry sighed into the phone when Cate called him and they briefly discussed Dr Vermont. ‘He’s never taken a day off until recently for as long as I’ve known him,’ Harry said. ‘Did he say what was wrong?’

‘No,’ Cate admitted. ‘And I didn’t really feel that it was my place to ask. I just said I hoped he got well soon and I would arrange cover.’ She gave a wry laugh. ‘Which is proving easier said than done on a Sunday afternoon. Sheldon is concerned about a two-year-old who’s really not right. They’ve diagnosed an irritable hip and the paediatricians have discharged him…’

‘Do you want me to come and have a look at him?’

‘I want you to finally have a weekend off, without being called in.’

‘Well, that’s not going to happen for a while.’ Harry let out another long sigh. ‘Have you tried Juan?’

It was a compliment indeed that Harry was thinking of asking Juan to cover for the rest of the weekend because, despite his impressive qualifications, Juan only covered as a locum resident.

‘We tried,’ Cate said. ‘He can’t.’

‘Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes but I’ll have to bring in the children.’

‘That’s fine,’ Cate said. ‘I’ve got Tanya sitting in the obs ward, watching one elderly patient, I’m sure she won’t mind.’

Juan ended the call with Frances.

He had thought for a moment about accepting the shift at Bayside but he knew that he might not be the best company today.

Martina would be ringing him soon, pleading with him to give them another go. She would say that she had just panicked, that in time, of course, she would have come around to his injuries.

Juan turned off his phone, not trusting Martina not to use a different number just so that he wouldn’t recognise it and pick up.

He would go for a drive, Juan decided. For the most part, while in Australia, he had enjoyed not driving, but now and then he hired a car. It was just so that he could explore, but today he wanted to do something different.

Juan hired a motorbike—it was his main mode of transport back home.

Or once had been.

Juan felt the machine between his legs and guided it up the hills, felt the warm breeze whipping his face and arms, and he relished it.

The view was amazing; to the left was the bay, and ahead he could see the smoke plumes far in the distance where bush fires were still raging, swallowing hectares of land but thankfully no homes.

He had enjoyed travelling around Australia—it was an amazing and diverse country and it had been everything he needed. It had been the last few weeks that had made him feel unsettled, wondering if it was time to think of returning home.

He swallowed down a mouthful of sparkling water, thought about New Zealand and Asia, and was suddenly weary at the thought of new adventure. He just couldn’t get excited at the prospect of starting over again, and finally he knew he had to acknowledge the day.

His family had been ringing all morning, trying to see how he was coping, whether or not he was feeling okay.

Juan really didn’t know how he was feeling.

He sat there, staring into the distance, trying to picture how his life might have been had the accident not happened. He and Martina would have been married for a year now—perhaps there would have been a baby on the way by now.

Juan asked himself if he would have been happy.

Yes.

Then he asked himself if he was happy now.

There was no neat answer.

Juan dragged his hands through his hair and his fingers moved to the back of his neck. For a moment he felt the thick scar and recalled pulling Cate’s hand away from it.

He hated anyone knowing.

Not just about the accident but about what had happened afterwards.

Still, eighteen months on, he could not quite get his head around the moment when everything had fallen apart—and it hadn’t been the moment of impact.

Juan closed his eyes, remembered when he had looked up into the eyes of the woman he was due, in six months’ time, to marry. He had realised then that it was not a limitless love.

Juan didn’t want to dwell on it, he hated the pensiveness that swirled like a murky haze, that billowed in his gut like the plumes of smoke in the distance.

He should be enjoying himself, Juan told himself, heading back to his bike. He should be getting on with life, living as he had promised to on those dark, lonely nights when his future had been so uncertain. He should not be thinking about some imagined past that had never happened, a marriage that hadn’t taken place. He should be embracing the future, living for this very minute, not dwelling on a wedding that had been cancelled and a future that had never existed.