Page 81 of Prognosis Bad Timing

Carrie nodded distractedly, barely acknowledging him as she sought the one pair of eyes she’d come here for. ‘Hello, Charlie.’

Charlie stood, encouraged by the shimmer in her whiskey-coloured depths. ‘Hi.’

They stood staring at each other hungrily for a few moments. She at the door, he at his desk. Joe rolled his eyes and gave Carrie a gentle push inside, closing the door and shutting them away in a bubble of privacy.

Carrie smiled and took a step forward. ‘I looked over your ideas.’ She threw the document on the table. ‘I think we can save the clinic. This is the report that I just submitted.’

Charlie’s heart beat frantically and his hand shook slightly as he picked up the wad of paper.

‘It will take some streamlining. Some adjustment in the way you run things. It certainly involves employing a practice manager.’ Carrie paced as she talked, slipping into businesswoman mode, more nervous than she’d ever been.

‘But I think, with the help of some hefty private-sector support, it can be done.’

Charlie’s heartbeat accelerated as he flicked through the report. It was comprehensive and substantive. She must have been up to the wee small hours. ‘Did you sleep last night?’

Carrie gave a wry smile. ‘A little.’

It was marvellous. Charlie knew he held in his hands the ability to keep the centre going. And Carrie had given him the way. ‘It’s amazing! I don’t know what to say...how to thank you.’

He rounded the desk and before either of them could caution against it swept her into his arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace.

Carrie hung on, most definitely swept away. This was where she belonged. How unfair was life?

The door barged open and they sprang apart guiltily. ‘Charles! What is the meaning of this?’ Ignatius Wentworth demanded.

Carrie froze and looked from father to son. She could see all the veins standing out in Charlie’s father’s neck. But Charlie looked pretty angry also, a nerve twitching at the angle of his jaw. She edged closer to him.

‘Exactly what it looks like,’ Charlie said calmly, gathering Carrie to his side and placing an arm around her back, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Ignatius looked from one to the other. ‘I thought you were just friends. You can’t be serious.’

‘Perfectly.’ Charlie smiled down at the woman he loved and stroked the skin at her nape.

‘But...Veronica.’

‘We’re divorced.’

‘You can get her back.’

Charlie laughed. ‘I don’t want her back. I want Carrie.’

Carrie’s heart thundered as Charlie’s father gave her a once-over.

‘You want to be a father to another man’s child?’

The slow stroke of Charlie’s thumb on her neck was reassuring and Carrie lifted her chin and looked Ignatius Wentworth straight in the eye.

‘I would be Dana’s father with pride.’

Carrie glanced at him, startled. Was he just saying that to annoy his father? Or did he mean it?

‘You can do better than this.’

A flare of anger scorch Charlie’s gut. His finger stilled its rhythmic movement. ‘I would be very, very careful what you say, Father.’

Carrie shivered at the steel she heard in Charlie’s voice. She saw surprise register in the older man’s eyes, replaced with a slightly bewildered look.

‘Charles...please. You could be a top-class surgeon. Have a brilliant career. Why are you wasting your life down here with these people? You could have your choice of specialties.’

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