But still she couldn’t take his hint. Correction—she couldn’t stop even when he spelled it out to her. “I know all of that.” She waved a hand as though what they’d shared was of no consequence to her. “But everyone needs someone to talk to at some point in their lives.”
“Not me.” Lucas jabbed his legs into his trousers and pulled his top over his head. “I don’t need anyone.”
She stood her ground as he advanced towards the door. She reached out again, this time drawing her knuckles along the damaged skin on the left side of his face. “Is this the reason you won’t talk?”
Lucas caught her arm, holding it away from him. “You could never understand.”
“Try me.”
Old Frankie would’ve let him go straight away, but New Frankie was keen to make him share his burden. Even though she was much less sure she was the person he needed to be confessing it to.
He expelled a breath and, for a moment, she thought he was going to answer her. But then his head came down, in increments so achingly slow Frankie was sure he would change his mind and leave. His lips grazed hers and began an assault so gentle, so reverent, it stole her perfectly-ordered thoughts.
Frankie tangled her hands in his hair, knowing he was kissing her only to stop her questions. He was right. They weren’t in a relationship, his issues had nothing to do with her. If he didn’t want to share them, she’d take what he did want to offer. She wanted to believe it was because the chemistry between them was so hot they were drawn to each other by some kind of magnetic force, but deep down she acknowledged she simply couldn’t say no to Lucas.
This time their lovemaking wasn’t the rushed, pulling-clothes-aside variety of earlier in the night. Lucas took his time to kiss, stroke, and tease every inch of her body until she was begging him to roll on a condom and bury himself inside her once more.
Her body reacted to his in a way that both excited and terrified her. She didn’t want to lose the feelings he created within her, but then, very soon, they would be flying home and it most definitely wouldn’t be together.
When he got up to leave, she didn’t ask him to stay. There was no point in asking for the impossible. The door clicked shut behind him and Frankie closed her eyes, willing sleep to envelop her as it had earlier in the night.
But the comfort of unconsciousness evaded her and she was left with the maelstrom of her thoughts.
Somewhere between Lucas leaving and the noises outside her door signifying morning had arrived and it was time for her to get back to work, she accepted the truth. She loved him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but it had.
This realisation was not nearly as bad as the one that followed closely on its heels—there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
Chapter Eight
Frankie got wearily to her feet, grabbed a clean pair of scrubs, and threw her towel and toiletry bag over her arm. A low humming noise alerted her to her phone, sticking out of a pocket in her handbag. She grabbed the phone, it was her father calling.
“Daddy?”
“Hello, darling.” His voice flowed warmly through the phone as though he were standing right next to her and not thousands of miles away. “How are you holding up?”
“It’s so devastating here, but I think I’m doing okay.”
“Your mother and I have been so worried about you.”
It was as though the intervening years had never happened and she’d never disappointed him by allowing herself to become nothing more than someone’s fiancée. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It’s been a long road we’ve travelled, but one day, when you’re a parent, you’ll understand our love has never wavered. Our faith in you has remained strong.”
Frankie pulled in a deep breath. After the tears she’d shed the day before, she really didn’t think she had any left, but she was coming perilously close. “Actually, I was a parent for a couple of days, dad.”
She told him about Victoria and baby Edward, her voice cracking more than once when she told him how she’d let him go the previous day. She recounted how she’d rescued Claudia and helped to make a bridge.
“I’m incredibly proud of you, Francesca. You are doing a truly wonderful thing.”
“When I get home, there’s another wonderful thing I’d like to do with your help. Yours and mum’s. I think it’s something we can all work on together.”
“That sounds intriguing.”
“Lucas, the doctor here…”
“Yes,” her father interjected. “You’ve mentioned him a couple of times.”
Which meant she’d probably slipped his name into every single sentence she’d uttered without even realising it. “He has an idea for a charity, and he’s asked if I’d be able to help him set it up.”
“That sounds a very worthy cause. A great way to spend your time when you’re home.”