A Miracle for His Secret Son Page 11

  A shiver skittered over her. Instinctively, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She almost demanded What? the way Nick did when he knew he was about to get into trouble.

  Gus’s eyes were a dark challenge. ‘I have to say I’m very surprised that you haven’t married.’

  If he’d zapped her with a stun gun he couldn’t have startled her more.

  ‘M-married?’ she repeated stupidly, while her heartbeats took off at a gallop.

  ‘You’re a lovely woman, Freya, and I know you’ve had plenty of admirers.’

  ‘Who’ve you been talking to?’

  ‘Mel.’

  ‘Oh.’ She tried to shrug this off. ‘Mel could gossip for Australia.’

  Gus didn’t respond. He watched her with a moody frown as he leaned back in his chair, legs stretched casually in front of him, waiting for her to talk about the men in her life.

  If any other man had asked Freya this, she would have told him what he could do with his nosy questions, but this was Gus, the father of her son. He wasn’t asking about her boyfriends out of jealousy, or because he wanted to make a move on her. He probably wondered why she hadn’t found a man to stand in as a male role model for Nick.

  ‘Mel’s right,’ she said. ‘There have been boyfriends. Mostly local fellows, who were good company.’ She shrugged. ‘A few years ago, I met a really nice guy from Melbourne through my work.’ She stopped, unwilling to add that this man was interesting and intelligent, and he’d liked Nick, and he’d been keen to commit to something more permanent.

  Gus frowned at her savagely. ‘Go on. Why didn’t it work out?’

  Didn’t he know? Couldn’t he guess?

  Freya’s mouth curled in a sad smile as she shrugged elaborately. ‘No sparks.’

  ‘None?’ Gus challenged, glaring fiercely.

  ‘Not enough.’ Not enough to commit to a long-term relationship. Freya had been scared that Jason’s niceness would bore her eventually, but she wasn’t going to tell Gus that.

  Her face was burning, so she turned away and missed his reaction. He didn’t speak and for long, uncomfortable moments they both sat very still, staring down at the ceaseless lines of traffic while she wondered about the women in his life—especially his wife.

  Eventually, she couldn’t help herself. If Gus could interrogate her, surely she could ask at least some of the questions that were keeping her awake at night.

  ‘What about you, Gus? Can you tell me about Monique?’ She saw the tightening in his facial muscles. ‘Unless it’s too painful to talk about.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said gruffly. ‘What would you like to know?’

  Nothing. Everything…

  ‘Oh, I don’t know—how you met, perhaps?’

  Gus shifted uncomfortably. ‘It was all very straightforward. We met through our work. We were both in a remote village, the only non-Africans around, so we kind of drifted together, I guess.’

  The way he told it, their relationship sounded more like a convenient friendship than a romance. But it must have been romantic. Freya had seen Gus in love and she knew how very passionate and tender he could be.

  ‘Did you ever bring her back to Australia? Were you married here?’

  ‘No, we were married in Africa. Our parents came over for the wedding.’

  We were married. The words pierced Freya as if Gus had fired them from a blowgun.

  The pain was so much worse than the familiar ache she usually felt when she thought about Gus Wilder and it proved to her, once and for all, that she was, unfortunately, still seriously hung up on him. Then she tortured herself further by picturing Gus as a bridegroom with his beautiful, happy bride on his arm.

  She could imagine his delighted parents meeting Monique’s delighted parents. Don’t they make a beautiful couple? And so worthy of each other.

  To ask more questions would be like pushing something sharp beneath her fingernails, but Freya couldn’t leave the subject alone.

  Was Monique beautiful? She mentally cancelled that and asked him instead, ‘What did Monique look like?’

  Gus frowned. The smallest smile flickered. ‘Very French. Dark eyes. Straight black hair. French nose.’

  ‘What does a French nose look like?’

  He grinned. ‘Oh, you know. Rather pointy.’

  Freya could hear the fondness in his voice and she wished she didn’t mind so very much. Of course Gus had loved his wife.

  But a loud sigh escaped him and suddenly he slumped forward, elbows sunk on his knees.

  ‘Gus, I’m sorry. I’m as bad as Nick, asking far too many awkward questions.’

  ‘It’s OK. It’s not the questions…’

  ‘But the memories must hurt…’

  Gus lifted his head. ‘Yes, they do, but perhaps not quite in the way you imagine.’

  As Freya puzzled over this, he stood abruptly and went to the balcony’s railing. For a moment or two he looked down into the lines of traffic below, and when he turned back to Freya his face was bleak. ‘Actually, it’s the guilt that bothers me more than anything.’

  ‘Guilt?’ Freya’s heart lurched sickeningly. What on earth could he mean?

  ‘Monique was ready to leave Eritrea,’ Gus said. ‘But I persuaded her to stay on for an extra six months, till I’d finished the dam project.’

  And some time during those six months Monique had driven over the landmine, Freya guessed. Her heart went out to him. ‘Gus, you mustn’t blame yourself.’

  When he didn’t respond, she said, ‘But I think I understand. When something bad happens to someone you love, it’s easy to convince yourself that you’re somehow to blame.’

  Frowning, Gus lifted his gaze to meet hers. ‘You don’t blame yourself for Nick’s condition, do you?’

  ‘It’s easy to do. There are times when I beat myself up, thinking that maybe I did something wrong. Or there was something I didn’t do that I should have. So many times I’ve wished I’d taken him to the doctor sooner…’

  The bleakness left Gus’s face and his eyes were suddenly unexpectedly tender. ‘Freya, from what I’ve heard, you’ve been a fabulous mother. Perfect, in fact.’

  She’d been far from perfect but, under the circumstances, it was generous of Gus to say so. ‘I suppose I’m like most mothers. I do my best. You can only ever do your best.’

  But she was sure Gus must have been wondering, as she often did, whether things might have been different if the two of them had raised Nick together.

  The blast of a car horn reached them from the traffic below. Freya looked at her watch. ‘I shouldn’t be keeping you up too late,’ she said. ‘You need to be in tip-top condition for the final round of tests tomorrow.’

  Apparently Gus agreed, for he left quite promptly. After he’d gone, Freya made herself a cup of hot chocolate using one of the sachets provided by the hotel and she drank it in bed, but she took ages to get to sleep.

  It was so silly. After so many sleepless nights worrying about finding a match for Nick, that weight had been taken off her shoulders. She should have been relaxed, not tossing and turning, not questioning the decision she’d made all those years ago.

  Thing was, until Gus had turned up, she was sure she’d made the right decision for both of them, but now…

  The more she saw of Gus being wonderful and charming and sexy, the more she remembered how much she’d loved him. When she’d made that fateful journey to the university to see him she’d thought he was changing, but he hadn’t changed at all. Not only was he as attractive and sexy as ever, he was warm and kind and thoughtful…

  Freya groaned and buried her face in her pillow but she couldn’t block out her memories. Oh, help. She could remember the comfort of Gus’s embrace, and she could still taste his kisses. Could still feel the warm eagerness of his lips on hers, and the sensual heaven of his lips on her throat and her breasts.

  She could remember kissing him all over, discovering the scents of the sea on his skin.

 
Oh, God. It was no good. She couldn’t go on tormenting herself like this. She got up to make another cup of hot chocolate and to find something safely unromantic to read.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DR LEE strode into the waiting room, grinning and giving the thumbs-up signal. ‘Good news. It’s all systems go.’

  The tests were completed and he’d come to report that the transplant would take place the very next day, beginning at nine o’clock in the morning and finishing some time around one in the afternoon.

  Freya’s stomach began to churn with a mixture of hope and fear.

  With Dr Lee’s blessing, she and Gus took Nick to a late afternoon matinee to watch a space adventure with a guaranteed feel good, happy ending. But then they had to go back to the hospital where he would stay overnight to start the anti-rejection medication.

  Sitting in his hospital bed in brand-new pyjamas covered in rocket ships, Nick grinned at Gus. ‘By this time tomorrow I’ll have your kidney inside me.’

  ‘You’re very welcome to it, mate.’ Gus’s voice was rough with emotion.

  ‘No more global warning.’ Nick grinned again, but Freya could see the fear lurking behind the bright smile and she felt impossibly weepy. Of course, she’d known for ages now that her boy was a super brave little guy, but his courage still got to her every time.

  ‘I’ll be here first thing, early in the morning,’ she told him when he began to look sleepy.

  ‘And you’ll bring Gus, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, darling, of course.’

  As she hugged Nick, she willed herself to be braver. If he could get through this without a whimper, then she must, too.

  Gus gave Nick a hug. ‘I’ve checked out the nurses and I haven’t seen any vampires, have you?’

  Nick shook his head and giggled.

  ‘But, just in case, I brought you a weapon.’ Gus reached into his deep trouser pocket and produced a little string of garlic cloves.

  Where on earth had he found them?

  ‘These will keep the hungriest vampire at bay,’ he announced. ‘They’re in all the hospitals, you know. They try to look normal.’

  Nick laughed. ‘Thanks for the warning.’ Eyes sparkling, he surveyed the sparsely furnished room. ‘Where will I keep this? Under my pillow?’

  ‘Garlic might be a bit smelly,’ Freya suggested tentatively, worried that Nick might get into trouble, but not wanting to spoil their game.

  ‘I’d say we should put in here,’ Gus said, pulling out the drawer in the bedside table. ‘Can you reach it?’

  ‘Easy.’ Nick demonstrated a quick snatch. ‘Cool. I was wondering what I’d do if a vampire snuck in here in the middle of the night.’

  ‘There will be nurses in and out all night,’ Freya felt compelled to explain.

  ‘Yeah, Mum, I know.’

  Nick winked at Gus, and just for a moment, Freya felt on the outside, then she squashed the feeling. She really was delighted that her son and his dad were getting on so well.

  For all sorts of reasons, Freya was glad of Gus’s company as they tiptoed out of Nick’s room and down the long hospital corridor. They’d waited till he dropped off to sleep, but she’d hated leaving him, even though he’d insisted he didn’t need his mum and he wasn’t a baby.

  ‘You’ve got a big day tomorrow, too,’ she told Gus as they reached the ground floor.

  He turned to her with an easy smile. ‘But we have to eat, and I’d like to take you out to dinner.’

  ‘Oh…’

  Amusement danced in Gus’s eyes. ‘Oh? Is that a yes or a no?’

  Freya gave a flustered little laugh and gestured to her T-shirt and jeans. ‘I was only thinking that I don’t have a thing to wear.’

  ‘We can find somewhere casual,’ he suggested.

  She thought she caught an edge of disappointment in his voice and she could well understand why he might want to spend this last evening enjoying himself. Then she remembered that she had brought black trousers and a couple of blouses that were almost evening wear.

  ‘I could probably manage something better than casual.’

  ‘Fantastic. Let’s splash out on somewhere grown-up.’

  Freya teamed a cream silk blouse with her black trousers and she wound her hair into a knot, which she hoped looked sophisticated, and added black hoop earrings and black toe-peepers, a black pashmina for warmth.

  ‘Wow!’ Gus grinned when he saw her. ‘If that’s casual, remind me to ask you to dress up some time.’

  She realised that Gus had never seen her really dressed up—unless she counted the senior formal, which was so long ago he couldn’t be expected to remember. She wished she was wearing high heels and stockings and something slinky and backless to make him really take notice.

  Of course he looked wonderful in a dark sports jacket, white shirt and beige trousers.

  ‘Maybe I should put a tie on,’ he said, fingering the open neck of his shirt.

  ‘No, don’t. You look—’ Freya could hardly say wonderful. ‘You look fine.’

  ‘I’ve wangled a late booking at a seafood restaurant near the river, and there’s a taxi waiting. I didn’t want to have to worry about trying to find a park.’ He touched the small of Freya’s back ever so lightly and she almost went into orbit as the warmth of his hand branded her skin through the thin silk fabric. ‘Let’s go.’

  It was well after eight when they arrived, and the restaurant was very well patronised. Freya was sure every seat had been taken, but they were shown to a table for two at a window with beautiful sweeping views of the city skyline and the full beauty of the lights shining on the water.

  ‘How on earth did you wangle such a good table at short notice?’ she asked when they were alone.

  Gus grinned. ‘I can be quite persuasive when I put my mind to it.’

  She felt a blush coming on and quickly picked up the menu. Fortunately it was large and she could almost hide behind it, studying the selection with earnest attention. The last thing she wanted now was to let her thoughts stray. There was no point in remembering how devastatingly persuasive Gus Wilder could be.

  The meal was superb. Freya chose a starter of salt and pepper calamari, while Gus chose seafood chowder. Their mains were a delicate baked fish with mango and avocado salsa, and steamed crab with chilli jam.

  Gus was perfect company and Freya relished this chance to sit opposite him; it gave her the perfect excuse to look into his gorgeous dark eyes whenever she wanted to. For brief moments she could almost—not quite, but almost—stop worrying about Nick. She could almost pretend she and Gus were dating again, and that he was in love with her.

  Perhaps he knew that she’d be weepy if they talked about Nick, because he entertained her with light-hearted anecdotes about the wonderful people he’d met in Africa. He also told her about the Aboriginal elders who were working alongside him on his current building project and, because she was genuinely interested, he explained how the project worked.

  ‘It’s all about empowering the Aboriginal communities,’ he said. ‘In the past, they’ve had big, all purpose housing designs imposed on them. With this project, they’re involved in every step. They decide what kind of housing they want and where it will be built. Hopefully, we avoid the culturally insensitive mistakes that have been made in the past.’

  ‘It sounds like you’re following a similar model to the one you used in Eritrea?’

  ‘That’s right. It works well. The community pitch in with the construction and there’s built-in training, so the younger people are skilled in various trades. The people end up with a real sense of community ownership.’

  Watching him carefully, Freya could see how very important the project was to Gus. ‘I guess you’ll be eager to get back to see how things are progressing.’

  ‘I can’t leave them in the lurch,’ he said, answering her question obliquely.

  ‘So you’ll be heading back as soon as you’re well enough?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’


  Gus’s eyes narrowed as if he was trying to gauge Freya’s mood. She pinned on a smile and hoped it didn’t look too forced.

  After dinner, they walked along the path beside the river. It was such a perfectly romantic setting that they should have been holding hands but, even though they weren’t, Gus walked close to Freya and the sleeve of his jacket kept brushing against the thin silk of her blouse. Each time she felt the contact she held her breath and her nerve endings went into a frenzy.

  The tiniest stumble would have had her falling against the solid bulk of his chest but, as luck would have it, she walked as smoothly as a supermodel.

  A light breeze blew, rippling the satin-smooth surface of the water and shattering the perfection of the reflected lights. Freya knew she should be soaking up the big-city atmosphere but, now they were away from the busy restaurant, her thoughts kept bouncing between her awareness of Gus and her worries about Nick.

  ‘I wonder how he is,’ she said.

  Gus didn’t have to ask what she meant. ‘He’s sure to be sleeping soundly,’ he assured her.

  ‘Maybe I should ring the ward to check if he’s missing me?’

  ‘But they have your mobile number. The sister promised to ring if Nick’s upset.’

  Freya knew Gus was right and, although she’d turned off her phone in the restaurant, she’d checked it as soon as she got outside and there were no messages, no missed calls.

  She watched the stream of cars travelling over Victoria Bridge. The headlights and tail lights looked like rubies and pearls strung on necklaces.

  ‘Nick loved the garlic necklace,’ she said. ‘It really helped to distract him tonight.’ She came to a halt, drew a deep breath.

  Gus stopped too, and he smiled at her. ‘Do you remember the last time we walked beside this river?’

  ‘Twelve years ago. You took me out to dinner, then you walked me to the station.’

  And by then she’d already decided not to tell him about the baby.