Reunited...in Paris! Read online

  Who was this Ben? The man she’d married hadn’t done talking about important things, had never criticised his father. Ben always told you how much he loved you. Okay, that had been important.

  Tori sighed. Why was she even thinking about the past? Their marriage was well and truly over. Right now all she wanted to do was enjoy being in France and having some fun for a change. Fun that didn’t, shouldn’t, include Benji.

  * * *

  Torture. Walking beside Tori, not touching, was pure torture. Listening to her voice, seeing the animation coming and going in her face whenever she turned his way. Definitely torture. Ben fought the need to wrap an arm around Tori’s shoulders, to feel her move under his grasp. That would be for himself, not for her. She wouldn’t appreciate the action. He’d been kidding himself to think he’d be able to see her and walk away unscathed. How could he when he still had deep feelings for her? Feelings he would not be acting on. Loneliness fired up, trampled on his heart.

  He’d only ever felt this alone once before—when he’d left Tori. Now he was with her and nothing had changed. He dragged air into his lungs. Warm sea air from the Mediterranean. Tori must be beside herself about being here. ‘So you’re going to Paris after this?’ When she nodded, he asked, ‘Are you one of those Monsieur Leclare has asked to repeat your talk at the medical school?’

  ‘Yes. Are you?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m replacing my colleague, who couldn’t make it.’ Then, ‘I’m looking forward to hearing you speak tomorrow.’

  Her shoulders tensed for a moment. ‘I’m as nervous as I’ve ever been.’

  ‘Get away with you. It’ll be a walk in the park.’ Tori had never had a problem with talking, one on one or in a group.

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Her smile was tender, and untied one of the knots deep within him—knots that had been there since that fateful day when his world had come crashing down at his feet.

  He nodded. ‘Why the nerves? Haven’t you prepared enough?’ Of course she would’ve. This was the woman who studied harder than anyone else and treated everything she did with fierce intensity. Including their marriage. Including their divorce.

  ‘Why do you think Monsieur Leclare invited me to give a talk on rheumatic fever and the resulting heart disease?’

  ‘Because you’re becoming quite the expert.’ Word was getting around about the cardiologist in New Zealand who’d set up a clinic to help the children who’d got heart problems after having rheumatic fever. According to the conference notes everyone had received, Tori had become known as the Heart Lady. ‘You’re saving children from ever appearing in our operating theatres.’

  ‘On the scale of cardiac things, I’m small fry. I’m not making groundbreaking discoveries, or coming up with new procedures.’ She sounded so perplexed he wanted to hug away her doubt.

  ‘What you do is equally important. You wait. I bet you get a standing ovation.’ He’d start one if no one else did.

  ‘Don’t overdo it.’ She chuckled, a soft, warm sound that lightened his heart, and undid another knot.

  Keep this up and he’d soon be like a floppy piece of string, all tension gone. He held a splayed hand against his chest. ‘She wounds me.’

  Another of those chuckles had him thinking if only he could make her repeat them all the way back to the hotel. ‘Time we turned back? We are getting into a less populated area.’

  Tori stopped to look around. ‘You’re right.’ Then she yawned. ‘Seems the day has finally caught up with me.’

  Ben took a chance and lifted her hand to tuck it on his arm, then headed back the way they’d come, enjoying the way her hip nudged him as she walked and desperately hoping she wouldn’t pull away. Diversionary tactics might work. ‘How’s Molly?’

  ‘Mum’s awesome. She’s playing golf three days a week, has joined a chess club and is playing bridge. She sold the house to move into a retirement village last year.’

  ‘No way. Not Mrs Independence.’ He’d got on well with Tori’s mother. She took no nonsense from anyone, not even him. He’d missed her a lot.

  ‘Says it’s the best decision she’s made in a long time. Personally I don’t get it, but it’s her call. I can hardly start telling her how to live her life when she’s always backed me in everything I’ve done, whether it was the right or wrong thing to do.’

  ‘She’s very wise, your mum.’ Wonder what Molly had to say about him these days? He’d gone to see her once when everything had been falling apart and received only kindness, though she’d said nothing that would put Tori in a bad light. She was a good mother, made all the more so because she’d brought Tori up alone after her husband had been killed in a trucking accident when Tori had been a nipper.

  Tori tightened her fingers on his arm for a moment, and he waited to hear what she’d come out with next. But she must’ve changed her mind because that grip loosened and she remained quiet.

  What would she say if he gave in to the need crawling through him and took her in his arms to kiss her? Why ask? He knew the answer. She’d slap him down and avoid him like the plague for the rest of the conference. Tori had never lacked common sense.

  ‘Have you met anyone else that you’re serious about?’ Tori suddenly turned his question from earlier back on him.

  When he glanced at her she was staring straight ahead, tension tightening her throat. ‘No. There’s never a lot of time for relationships. I remember how hard it was for you and I to have together time.’ They’d been like ships in the night at times.

  ‘That’s a little different. I was studying and we were both putting in horrendous hours in the department.’

  ‘True.’ Given he’d married the love of his life and that had failed, what hope did any other relationship have? None, when he hadn’t quite laid that first one to rest yet. Hopefully the next few days would see to that.

  They reached the sweeping entrance to the hotel and Ben led Tori inside to the elevators. Chancing a light kiss on her cheek, he inhaled her scent of roses. ‘Goodnight, Tori. See you in the morning.’

  She entered the elevator and pressed the number for her floor. As the doors slid shut he saw her raise her fingers to the spot he’d just kissed.

  Goodnight, Tori, he repeated silently to himself. You were the love of my life. Now you’re Tori, ex love of my life.

  He needed to keep reminding himself of that.

  ‘Want a nightcap?’ John asked from behind him.

  ‘That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.’ It might be the thing to send him to sleep later, because at the moment it looked like being a very long night. ‘Where’s Rita?’

  ‘Tucked up in bed, planning her shopping expedition with Tori.’ John rolled his eyes. ‘Women, eh? What is it about shops that gets their knickers in such a twist?’

  ‘French shops, man, not just any shops.’ He’d love to take Tori shopping, spoil her with jewellery and more stylish dresses like the one she’d worn tonight. It had fitted her tall, lithe figure to perfection, reminding him of every curve he’d loved nothing more than to kiss and caress until she’d cried out and begged him for release. ‘Better make that whiskey a triple.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  TORI PICKED UP the phone in her room. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, it’s me.’

  Under her satin robe her nipples peaked at the sound of that deep timbre. ‘Good morning, Ben.’ At least she hadn’t said Benji. She held her breath as she waited to see why he’d rung, trying to ignore the pitter-pattering of her heart. This odd rhythm was new to her repertoire of reactions to all things Benji. Ben. The pattering got louder.

  ‘I’m thinking breakfast at one of those street cafés would be a great start to the day. Want to join me? All part of not spending any more time than necessary in the hotel.’

  How could she turn
that down? ‘Sounds lovely. Meet you downstairs in twenty.’

  ‘Twenty it is.’

  Breakfast with Ben. In a street café in Nice. That had to be the best way ever to start a day.

  Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head. He is still Ben and you are still no longer his other half.

  He didn’t have another half. Neither did she. But that didn’t mean they’d be joining up again.

  Just keep things on an even keel and don’t let that voice trip you up.

  Easy as. Be friendly and cool. Easy as.

  A little while later Tori sniffed the air like a spaniel on the scent of a bone. They’d walked up Avenue Jean Médecin until they’d found a patisserie with seating on the pavement. The delicious scent of pastries teased her. ‘Look at those.’ She nodded at the array of exquisitely presented delicacies. ‘This is heaven.’ She grinned.

  ‘You want to try out your French and order for both of us?’ He grinned straight back.

  ‘Woo-hoo. Yes, I do. What are you going to have?’ Anticipation rolled through her, egged on by that smile beaming at her. Oh, Ben, I’ve missed you. She wouldn’t be sad today. That’d be a waste of Nice. Stepping up to the counter, she pulled back her shoulders and said slowly and carefully, ‘Un café, un café au lait, et deux pains au chocolat, s’il vous plaît.’ She handed over a twenty-euro note to the taciturn woman behind the counter and watched closely to see what she got.

  ‘Sucre?’ she was asked.

  ‘Non.’ Who’d have believed she’d be ordering breakfast in French? She glanced around and met Ben’s laughing eyes.

  ‘It’s looking good so far. That’s two coffees on the go.’ He sounded as happy as her.

  Pulling a face at him, she chuckled. ‘Ye of little faith.’ And mentally crossed her fingers they got one white and one black.

  When their order was placed on the counter Tori grinned as she handed Ben his. ‘I did it. I got what we wanted without having to utter a single word in English.’ She hadn’t had so much fun since—since she and Ben had been married and sharing the apartment.

  Her excitement faded a little as they sat outside, but she refused to give in to the past and instead watched the trams rolling up and down the centre of the avenue, stopping for workers to alight. Tourists wandered by, some stopping to peer in the window at the food on offer.

  ‘I could get to like doing this all the time.’ The sky was clear blue again, the temperature already warming up. ‘Thanks for suggesting it.’

  ‘Like you said, why sit in the hotel dining room when Nice is out here? When France is spread before us to enjoy?’

  Tori nodded her agreement. ‘Even if I’d got green juice and a baked banana from my badly accented order I’d have been happy. This is what I came all this way for.’

  ‘Don’t tell Luc. He’d be disappointed.’ Ben’s smile struck her right in the solar plexus, dissolving the last of the tension his sudden appearance yesterday had created.

  Not even the child bouncing on the seat at the next table and poking her tongue out at Tori could dampen her spirits with thoughts of what her child would’ve been like at that age.

  ‘This is the first holiday I’ve had in ages. Or it will be once my talk is done.’ If she remained practical hopefully this little frisson of interest in Benji would go away. Ben. His name is Ben.

  * * *

  Tori waited for the applause that followed Monsieur Leclare’s introduction to die down. It was show time. She felt good, knew her stuff, had all the notes printed out just in case her phenomenal memory failed her—as if. The PowerPoint display was set up and she’d tested it with a technician fifteen minutes earlier. Yes, she was ready.

  When the forum director waved her forward to the lectern she stepped up and looked out across the crowded conference room. And forgot everything. Except that she was there to talk to all those people. Her mouth dried. The notes shook in her fingers. She glanced down at them. Nothing made sense. What was going on? This had never happened before. The room was quiet. Too quiet. Her gaze slid down and along the front row. To Ben. Don’t look at Ben. What can he do? Where else did she look? No way could she cope with seeing all those expectant faces turned to her, those eyes focused entirely on her. Try the screen. Spinning around like a desperate woman—which she was—she studied the heading blinking out at the audience.

  Rheumatic Fever and Its Comeback by Tori Wells.

  Cardiologist, New Zealand

  That should’ve settled her stage fright. It didn’t. Instead, the quivering increased and her stomach got in on the act, preparing to hurl that delicious pastry upward.

  A firm voice cut across her panic. ‘Tori, here are the notes you left behind.’ Ben.

  Ben was on stage with her, handing her something. Notes. She reached for them as though they were a lifeline. But they couldn’t be hers, she had all the notes she needed on the laptop in front of her. It was knowing what to do with them that was the problem.

  ‘Read them.’ His expression was filled with confidence.

  She glanced down at the top page of what was one of the numerous pads supplied by the hotel for the attendees. Scrawled across the paper in handwriting she remembered well was, ‘Speak from your heart, Tori, as only you can.’

  Dared she look at him? Could the whole auditorium hear her rapid heartbeat over the microphone? It was deafening. Was she about to make a colossal fool of herself?

  A hand was on her elbow, fingers squeezing gently. ‘Go, girl.’ A whiff of that aftershave and the hand was gone as Ben walked off stage.

  Leaving her to do this. He believed in her. Knew she could speak to all these experts and not screw up. Drawing air into her depleted lungs, she faced forward and said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure I’m about to tell you things you have known since the first day you walked into medical school, but I believe in my work so much you’re going to have to listen to me anyway.’

  That got her a laugh. The show was under way. A quick glance at Ben found him nodding and smiling—at her. I owe you. The tension fell away and Tori opened up to talk about what had driven her for the last few years.

  ‘I would like you all to meet Thomas Kahu. He needs no introduction. He’s the star of this short clip.’ She pressed ‘Play’ and stepped aside so everyone could watch sixty seconds of high-school rugby.

  When the film clip finished she returned to the lectern, her nerves completely under control. If Thomas could see her he’d be saying, ‘Come on, Heart Lady, they’re only people like you and me.’ He was one smart young man.

  She told her audience, ‘I come from a rugby-mad country, but that particular game was the one to change me profoundly. It also changed my career direction.’ Her voice firmed as she continued. ‘I attended a school rugby game in which my friend’s son was playing. There was a big, strapping Samoan lad in the back line of the opposition team who was impressing everyone. Thomas Kahu was a natural at reading the game and acting on what he saw. There was even talk on the evening sports news that night of him being considered for the junior national side in a year or two.’ Sadness enveloped her, tightening her heart.

  ‘Three months later that lad was sitting in my consulting room suffering from carditis that manifested as congestive heart failure. He’d contracted rheumatic fever. His rugby career was over before it had really started. Thomas is the reason I do what I do.’ The emotion she always felt about that day filled her voice, and was amplified through the microphone.

  Some people clapped and Tori felt a glow of pleasure nudge aside her distress for Thomas. Ben had been right. Speak from the heart. Heck, she was just about laying the whole pumping mass out on the lectern for everyone to see.

  Now for the nitty-gritty of her everyday life. ‘While rheumatic fever is common worldwide, it has been fairly rare in Western countries since the nineteen sixties.
But this leaves no room for complacency as there have been some outbreaks since the early eighties.’ Tori looked out across the room without focusing on any one person. So far, so good. The delegates were receiving her well.

  Straightening her back even farther, she felt a vertebra click as she continued. ‘In New Zealand, rheumatic fever has become a small but serious issue for a minority of our population. The health ministry is working hard to put in preventative measures through education, better housing and communal involvement on all levels.

  ‘Unfortunately I get to see far too many children who don’t come to anyone’s attention until it’s too late and they’ve developed heart disease. This is due in part to the fact that initially parents, teachers and other caregivers believe that when the child becomes ill with a sore throat he or she has an infection and treat it accordingly. In some instances there’s no treatment at all even for a strep throat.’

  Sipping water, Tori again looked out at the sea of faces, then inadvertently brought her focus down to the front row. Ben smiled directly at her and gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled back.

  ‘Ignorance is not the answer. Strep A is easily treated with antibiotics and yet this is often overlooked, especially in the lower socio-economic regions of our society where people can’t afford even a heavily subsidised visit to the doctor.

  ‘What my clinic is pushing for are standard observations that can be undertaken by trained community nurses at every school in the country. I’d rather run out of young patients with cardiac disease brought on by rheumatic fever than have to perform even one more heart-replacement procedure. I’d prefer to see these kids playing rugby and netball, not dealing with shortness of breath, not terrified because their heart sounds and feels strange. No child wants to be the odd one out, and yet because of the consequences of this disease that’s where they often find themselves.’

  Her voice had risen and her hands were fists on the lectern as she tried to lock eyes with every single person in the room. ‘Kids need to belong, to be a part of what’s going on around them. They don’t deserve to be sidelined through a preventable illness.’