A Fling To Steal Her Heart

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.

The doors opened again and more exhausted people spilled through, followed by a laden trolley being pushed by... ‘Raphael.’ The shout was accompanied by a small body hurtling through the crowd, aimed directly for him.

‘Izzy.’

Oof. Oui. Definitely tornado.

His lungs huffed out every last molecule of oxygen they were holding as Isabella plastered herself against him. His arms wound around her like they never intended letting go. She smelt of travel and tiredness and excitement and—

Mais oui, Isabella. Soft, tough.

Careful. Friends, nothing else.

‘Hello, Rafe. Good to see you.’

The relief expanded. Isabella was here. Izzy. He inhaled deeper, hugged harder and kissed her on both cheeks French style. Friendly style. Then, without letting go of her, he leaned back to gaze down at her fine features with dark shadows staining her upper cheeks. There was strain in her eyes, negating her usual go-get-’em attitude. Anger lodged behind his ribs. This was Darren’s fault. The man had hurt her. But apparently it took two to tango, so had Isabella done something wrong too? He’d leave off the big questions until she’d got some sleep and was looking more like her normal self. Since the flat she’d arranged had fallen through she was staying with him for a little while—until they had their first row at least. Something not uncommon between them. ‘Great to see you, mon amie.’

The familiar cheeky twinkle was back in her gaze, though the corners of her mouth were still drawn. ‘You see me every other week.’

He relaxed enough to go with the change. ‘Usually your chin is huge and your eyes somewhere above the screen. This way I get to see you properly. I can read your expressions,’ he added to wind her up for the hell of it. Because that’s how they’d always been with each other, and until now he hadn’t realised how important it was. It kept him on track, especially at the times Cassie’s betrayal got to him too much. He hadn’t shared the details, but Izzy had always been at the end of a phone. They knew each other better than anyone, and had often relied on that to get through the upheavals life threw at them, yet there’d been apprehension in his veins since Isabella had agreed to come to London and take up the job he’d suggested. He didn’t understand his apprehension, unless it was to do with the uncomfortable, almost painful, feeling that overcame him at her marriage ceremony where he’d stood beside her as she said her vows to Darren. A sense that he’d found out something important when it was too late.

‘Next time I’ll focus the camera on my slipper-covered feet.’

‘Not the ones the neighbour’s dog chewed.’ Next time. Reality check. This wasn’t a long-term move. Was that disappointment rapping his knuckles? And if so, why? He was used to her coming and going as it suited, or, when they were young, as her parents had decreed. Could be that his need to see her happy wasn’t going to be satisfied. Could also be that his hope of spending more time with her wasn’t going to be fulfilled. He looked around. ‘We’d better rescue that trolley before someone crashes into it and the bags topple off.’ This was going to be interesting. His car wasn’t made for organising a complete house move. ‘Did you leave anything behind?’

Her tight laugh had him wondering just what was going on. ‘This is only the beginning. I’m shipping more belongings across. The container’s due to arrive sometime in May.’

Raphael dived right in. ‘So you’re looking for somewhere to unpack properly? As in lock, stock and clothes?’ This was nothing like her usual style of one backpack and the laptop.

Her laughter died. ‘Don’t be so shocked. Just because it didn’t work in Wellington doesn’t mean it won’t here with all my friends around me.’

He reached for her, needing to hug a smile back onto her face. ‘You’re right, and I’m one of them.’

‘I hope so,’ she murmured against his chest before pulling away, still without a smile. She’d never doubted him before. But before he could question her, she continued. ‘There’s a couple of pieces of furniture, some kitchenware and lots of books coming.’

He stared at her, a knot of unease tightening in his belly. She was serious about this move. He was thrilled for her, and him, and would help make it work, but... But he’d have to be careful about keeping his distance. Risking their friendship was not happening over some out of kilter emotions he’d felt on and off since her marriage. ‘Truly?’

She nodded, her mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘Truly.’ A sigh trickled over her lips. ‘I’ll add to them as soon as I find my own place.’

‘Your own place?’ The relief should be flooding in. It wasn’t.

‘A place to rent for a start.’

He sighed. Stop being disgruntled. His friend was back in town. Someone to talk the talk with, have a beer at the pub or take a ride out in the countryside. One day at a time and see how they went getting back to that easy relationship they’d always shared until she’d got married.

It goes back further than that, mon ami. You’ve never shared much about your time with Cassie. Or the devastation she caused.

‘Thanks for putting a roof over my head until I find somewhere.’

‘It’ll be better than squatting under London Bridge.’ Suddenly there was a bounce in his step. He’d been looking forward to this moment, and now Izzy was here. Right beside him. Recently his life had become all about work, and very little play. All too often he cancelled going to rugby with the guys, the only excuse being his patients needed him. But he needed to be more rounded, balance his lifestyle. Izzy was good at shaking him up, would take no nonsense about how he was a doctor before all else. Well, he was, but she always reckoned that didn’t mean his work should fill twenty-four hours every day of the week. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

‘Let’s.’ Isabella smothered a yawn with her hand. ‘That was one hell of a trip. Crying babies, and an enormous man in the seat next to me who kept falling asleep and sprawling in every direction, mostly mine.’

‘Sounds fairly normal.’ Long-haul flights were hell on wings.

‘One day I’m going to fly first class just to see what it’s like. I did get some sleep though, which is a change. Probably because I had so little in the nights leading up to getting on the plane.’

‘You done anything about that insomnia?’

Untidy auburn hair flicked across her shoulders as she shook her head. ‘What’s the point? I’ve tried everything except sleeping pills and I’m never resorting to them. Seen too many patients who’ve become addicted, and then any gains in the sleep department are lost. Besides, I’m used to getting by on a couple of hours at a time.’

This had gone on for almost as long as he’d known her, sometimes minor sleep deprivation, sometimes quite major, and in recent years it had cranked up a few more notches. Guess a person could get used to anything given enough time, though it wasn’t good for her. ‘Still, I think you should see one of my colleagues. He’s good at helping people get to the bottom of what’s causing the problem and might even be able to give you some practical advice.’

‘Let me get unpacked before you start organising my life.’ Isabella gave him a lopsided smile, with a warning behind it. ‘Okay, what’ve you got planned for tonight?’

Whatever she was trying to tell him, he’d leave it for now. ‘Running three laps of the neighbourhood before digging up the back garden and putting in some plants.’

‘Cool. Nothing for me to worry about. I can sit down and watch a movie on my phone, dial out for pizza.’

Raphael laughed, and it was like pushing Play on an old CD player, bringing back memories of fun times when his heart hadn’t been ripped out of his chest. He halted the trolley to sling an arm over Isabella’s shoulders and hug her against him again. ‘You’re on to it.’ This was more like it. Cheeky Izzy not taking any of his nonsense seriously. It was one of the things he missed the most. Not even the overloaded, heavy trolley could put a dent in the sense of fun ahead now spreading through him. A familiar feeling he’d known the very first time they’d met, stronger than the pain in his thigh where her snowboard had struck hard. She’d been embarrassed at losing control, and tried blaming him for being in the way. They’d argued and laughed and shared hot chocolates and swapped phone numbers, and afterwards met up every weekend in Geneva when they could get away from school activities. ‘I’ve missed you.’ It hadn’t been so easy to have two-hour conversations when there was a husband in the background, and he’d been very aware of how he might’ve felt if the situation had been reversed. He mightn’t have liked Darren, but he understood the boundaries. And afterwards, Izzy had been a bit withdrawn with him.

‘Same.’

‘I would’ve headed down under for a week this past year to support you, cheer you up, get you back on track, but you were never there.’ Her phone calls over the last twelve months had been quiet, and filled with sadness and, at times, something like despair that she’d never explained.

Again those auburn locks swished back and forth across her shoulders. ‘You didn’t have to do that. I’m a big girl. Anyway, I managed, and you were always at the other end of the phone when I needed to talk. You’d have been fed up with me by the end of the first day and champing to get away. I had to do it my way, and having you rant in my ear about my future when I couldn’t hang up on you wouldn’t have worked, for either of us.’

‘You’re probably right, but still...’ He’d let her down. And himself. Again he wasn’t sure why he thought that.

Raphael began pushing his friend’s worldly goods towards the lift that’d take them to the car park. ‘Bumped into Carly on Wednesday. She’s pretty excited about you returning to the Queen Victoria.’

‘She’s more excited about her wedding. We’ve already got a night out planned with the other two from our training days’ group. Funny how we’re again all here at the same time. I wonder if that means everyone’s settling down, becoming responsible adults, or is this just another stop along the way? Seems London’s our place. My place?’

This sounded more like the Isabella he’d known for so long: always confident and putting it out there about how she wanted to live, and yet being gnawed at on the inside with her insecurities over people sticking by her, not breaking the bonds she desperately needed. Her parents had put her into boarding school when they felt she’d have better support and company than at home with them. They hadn’t known a thing. He’d held her while she’d cried over being sent away. But after falling heavily for Cassie, and having her treat him so badly, he knew what a shattered heart felt like—and wasn’t risking going there again. Nor hurting someone else similarly when he wasn’t able to give enough of himself to her.

He said, ‘Stop trying to second-guess everything, and enjoy being back amongst us all.’ He would never desert her; he needed her friendship as much as she needed his. She understood him like no one else. If only he could stick with friendship, not let other emotions get in the way. ‘You can do it. You have to believe in yourself.’

Then Isabella flicked him a look he couldn’t interpret. ‘Like you?’ Her eyes were locked on his. ‘I can follow your example? Work non-stop, get a home that I won’t get to spend much time in?’

His happiness slipped. ‘Is that what I’ve become? A workaholic?’

‘It’s what you told me only weeks ago.’

‘I was probably trying to deflect you from your problems.’ He’d been voicing his concerns about how everyone around him seemed to be finding love and making babies, while he was getting further tied up with work. What he hadn’t said was how he wished he could find what it would take to try again, to finally put his past to rest. But he couldn’t. Because of Cassie’s selfishness, he’d lost a son and still wasn’t able to make peace with himself about that.

‘About those problems, will you always be here for me on the bad days?’

Where did that come from? ‘Oui, you can count on me.’ She already knew it.

‘Thanks. I can’t tell you how good it is to spend time with you. It’s been a while since anyone told me what to do.’

‘Most people are too scared to.’ He laughed. ‘Let’s get this load home and go have a drink and a pub meal to celebrate your arrival in London.’ Better out somewhere surrounded by people than stuck in his kitchen together. Only now was he beginning to understand the coming weeks sharing his house might not be as comfortable as he’d thought. Which was so far left field it was crazy. Izzy would get busy beginning her new life, and he’d be hanging on to the dull but predictable one he’d made for himself.

‘Sounds good to me. I loved the pub food when I lived here last time.’ Isabella’s hand tapped her stomach, then a hip. ‘Not that it ever did me a lot of good. But I’m in for tonight anyway.’ She threaded her arm through his, ignoring how the trolley aimed sideways and caused him to put more pressure on to controlling it with the other arm. ‘Honestly, Rafe, I keep wanting to pinch myself. It’s been for ever since we last saw each other. Talking on the phone or through the internet doesn’t quite cut it. I like to know you’re within reaching distance.’ She gulped, tripped, righted herself and stared straight ahead. ‘Talking too much. Put it down to jet lag, if that happens so soon after a flight.’

This was different. He hauled the brakes on the hope beginning to unfold deep inside. In the long run he wouldn’t be enough for Izzy. She needed someone to love her unconditionally. That wouldn’t be him after the way Cassie had blown his trust out of the water because Izzy had her own issues about believing anyone would love her enough to stay around. Anyway, give her a few days to settle in at work and catch up with the girls and she’d be off doing all sorts of random things, and then he could relax around her. ‘You don’t suffer from jet lag.’ He’d always been envious when he’d had to grapple with debilitating exhaustion for days after a long-haul flight, while this woman usually bounced off the plane ready to party.

‘Always a first time.’ Isabella remained quiet until they reached his car. More unusual behaviour.

Something was up, and finding out what was imperative if he was to be onside as she settled into London for good, but best left alone today. He tipped his head sideways to stare at Isabella. Naturally he always wanted to help her when she was in difficulty, but normally he’d accept it if she refused to talk. But today he wanted to get behind the pain in the back of her eyes, see her achieve genuine happiness. Opening the car boot, he said, ‘Let me do this. You get comfortable inside.’

‘Like I’m your grandmother?’ She smiled. ‘How is Grand’mère, by the way? Fully recovered from her hip replacement?’

‘Chasing the great grandkids with her crutch, apparently. Being her, she’ll be back cycling around the city before she should,’ he said with a smile. He adored Grand’mère. She was the only other person besides Izzy to support him in all his endeavours without criticism. His family loved him but always wanted to tell him what they believed he was doing wrong with his decisions. ‘I was talking to her last night and she said whenever you need a change of scenery, pop over and spend time with her.’ What she’d really said was, when Isabella was fed up with him, go pay her a visit and she’d sort her out. Grand’mère had a soft spot for the lost Kiwi girl who’d often hopped a train to go spend a day with her when she was working in Tours.

‘Cool. I’ll do that sooner than later. I love your grandmother, and Avignon’s one of my favourite cities.’ She handed him one of the smaller cases.

He shook his head. ‘That big sucker first.’

‘She might be just what I need on the days when you’re not available for chewing your ear off.’ Fixing a smile on her face she made to shift the bags. ‘The family still as smothering as ever?’

Typical Izzy. Here he was holding back on the big questions and she just leapt in. ‘Out of the way. This is man’s work.’

‘Whatever.’ Her eye roll made him laugh. At least she backed away from the stack of cases.

‘What have you got in here?’ he groaned. ‘You must’ve paid a small fortune in excess baggage costs.’

‘You avoiding my question?’

‘You know I am. Now, get in the car before I put a bag on your seat and leave you to catch the train.’

Isabella snuggled into the soft leather seat and tugged her crumpled denim jacket across her chest to keep out the chill. From what she’d seen coming in to land, London had not turned on the sunshine in welcome, and the air out here was proving it. But Raphael had more than made up for the chilly welcome, hugging her tight as though he never wanted to let her go. There’d been relief in his gaze as she raced to him, as though he hadn’t really believed she’d turn up.

Well, she was here, and right now she needed friends who didn’t ask awkward questions. Count Raphael out, then. She sighed. He never let her get away with anything. There again, he knew how to help her without seeming too intense. Demanding an instant decision about the job in the Queen Victoria had been unusual for him but just what she needed to get out of the blues she’d dumped herself into. Since his phone call determination to get on with consolidating her life had started growing, begun to fill the empty place deep inside, even excited her. There was a long way to go, but a start was way better than nothing at all.

The car rocked as Raphael clambered in beside her. ‘Ready?’

She nodded. Fingers crossed, for everything. ‘I sure am. What’s Richmond like?’ It was the suburb where he’d bought his house. ‘I hear it’s very pretty.’

‘It is. There’re plenty of fabulous cafés, and I enjoy walking or cycling along the river when I’ve had a rubbish day and need to put things into perspective.’

‘That would be often.’ He gave his all to patients. Studying him as he drove out of the airport, shock hit her.

He’s changed.

His face was drawn, his movements heavier, his words spoken more thoughtfully. Why? Another sigh. He wouldn’t thank her for asking so she changed the subject. ‘How’s Pierre?’ His cousin’s son held a special place in Raphael’s heart.

‘In love with the girl next door. Apparently he’s going to die if she doesn’t kiss him soon.’ Raphael chuckled. ‘Everything’s so intense at his age.’

‘Too much so sometimes.’

Rafe had been seventeen when he’d helped Adele during the birth of her son. He’d been driving her through the country lanes headed for the birthing centre when her well-spaced labour pains went out of control. He’d told Isabella there’d been no time for embarrassment with Adele gripping his arm and screaming to do something about the baby. The first birth he’d seen and aided, and from that day on he’d known what he wanted to do with his future career in medicine. ‘Pierre’s now a robust fifteen-year-old, and also thinking of going into medicine. Though not obstetrics. He’s keen on cardiology, though that might have something to do with his heart being in torment at the moment.’

‘You think?’ Shuffling down further in her seat, Isabella stared out the window as they followed the main road leading into the city. ‘This is familiar. I like familiar. It makes me feel I might be doing the right thing coming back.’ She did feel connected to London, something she didn’t get often. Wellington had been the only other place, and Darren’s infidelity had altered that. Sure, he hadn’t been the only one to get things wrong with their marriage, but he had broken her heart by seeking solace in other women’s arms, and wrecked her trust in people.