The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For. Marion Lennox
Had her father been so preoccupied with writing an impressive speech that he hadn’t realised how long she’d been absent?
Or had he climbed back on that paternal soapbox and told his daughter what kind of morals her chosen outfit was advertising? If he had, he was going to get an earful of how clueless Susie considered him to be.
He would also get an eyeful of her own choice of attire. She had picked the soft, clinging, low-cut top deliberately and teamed it with hip-hugging, pale denim jeans that he would probably disapprove of more than a skirt. Not that she had expected to come across Alex at the disco. This had been more of a statement of support for Stella.
It was tempting to put her hands on the band of those jeans that marked her hips and tap her foot impatiently as she waited for Alex to open the ranch slider for her. He looked so calm, dammit! Crossing the room with the same kind of casual grace she had noted when he’d walked down the jetty that afternoon. As though he was in complete control of any space he entered.
His smile and greeting were as courteous as if nothing untoward was happening.
‘Thank you for coming,’ he said.
Accusations of provocation or neglect tumbled around Susie’s brain, vying for utterance, but as she stepped inside and looked up, the words died on her lips.
That aura of control was an illusion. He may still be wearing his white shirt but the careful rolling-up of the sleeves was coming unravelled and the cuffs were hanging loose. Another couple of buttons at the neck were undone and his feet were bare. Eyes that she remembered as being dark were positively black right now. Bottomless pits she could fall into if she wasn’t careful. Muscles in his jaw were bunched tightly enough to make day-old stubble very obvious, and how many times had Alex pushed stiff fingers through his hair to make it stand up in spikes like that?
She was looking at a parent who was worried sick. At the end of his tether.
Helpless, even.
It was the last impression she had expected and Susie could actually feel her early judgement of this surgeon split wide-open. She could move through the channel created and establish a connection if she wanted, and she had to make a conscious effort not to reach out and touch him.
Alex would hate that. This was not someone who was used to asking for assistance and instinctively Susie knew that stepping even a fraction over a professional line would be deemed patronising. Making that telephone call to ask for help had probably made him feel disturbingly vulnerable. It had also given Susie the power to either antagonise him irreparably or get a lot closer.
A choice that was made instantly. With her heart, not her head.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked gently. ‘How can I help?’
‘She went into the bathroom, oh…’ Alex flicked his wrist to glance at his watch. ‘Two hours ago. I thought she was doing something with all that make-up you saw fit to provide.’
Susie opened her mouth but then snapped it shut and merely raised her eyebrows encouragingly.
‘When she didn’t come out after half an hour, I knocked on the door and asked if she was all right.’
‘And?’ Susie didn’t like the cold trickle that ran down her spine. ‘Is she?’
‘She told me to…’ Alex’s face twisted into an expression of extreme distaste and then he demonstrated exactly how he’d managed to spike his hair so effectively. ‘Let’s just say she let me know my presence in the near vicinity was less than desirable.’
Susie dragged her gaze away from the way some of the soft black spikes were settling. But she couldn’t help the way the corner of her mouth twitched. She could be quite confident that Alex wouldn’t be used to being sworn at. Then the embryonic smile faded. Had he got angry and shouted back? Hammered on the door and terrified Stella? Anyone that could exude the kind of power Alex did would be terrifying when really angry. It took rather a lot of courage to even ask her next question.
‘Is the door locked?’
‘You think I didn’t try it?’ The tone was scathing. Susie’s heart tripped but then her hackles rose. There was no reason for this man to have any power over her and any emotional involvement she was feeling came from the notion that he needed her. Maybe he wasn’t so helpless after all.
Then Alex shook his head wearily and his expression squashed any doubts. ‘Sorry, but I’ve tried everything. The window’s closed and too opaque to see through. The door bolts from the inside so it’s no use sending for a skeleton key. Short of breaking the damn thing down—and, yes, I did consider that—the only thing I’ve been able to do is try talking to her.’
‘And she’s not answering?’
‘No.’
‘You don’t think she’s hurt herself, do you?’
‘No. She’s been crying but it doesn’t sound as if she’s in physical pain.’
‘Have you got any idea what’s upset her so much?’
Alex sighed heavily, spreading his hands in an eloquent gesture of frustration. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I’d told her she could wear what she wanted to the disco.’ His gaze travelled over Susie, as though only just registering what she was wearing. She saw him swallow with what appeared to be something of an effort. ‘I said I hoped she was going to have a great time. And that… that if that boy didn’t think she was stunning, he had rocks in his head.’
Susie grinned. ‘You said that? Really?’
‘Really.’ Alex returned the smile and the heavy lines of his face softened. ‘She…I…I feel as if I’ve stepped onto a new planet here, Susie. I sent a little girl away to camp and I came here to find a young woman. One that seems to think I’ve suddenly become the enemy.’
Susie was still smiling. ‘I do understand, Alex. Don’t worry. You’re feeling like every parent of every teenager has felt at some point.’ She turned towards the closed door on the far side of the living area. ‘Right. I was a teenager myself once. I’ll see what I can do.’
‘She was so happy when she went in there.’ Alex stayed where he was, still close to the ranch slider, watching Susie. ‘I simply don’t understand this.’
Susie tapped on the door. ‘Stella?’
No response.
‘It’s Susie,’ she continued. ‘Are you OK, hon?’
Stupid question. No wonder it provoked a muffled sob.
‘I can help,’ Susie offered, hoping fervently that the statement was accurate. ‘Whatever it is that’s bothering you.’
Silence again but Susie had the feeling that Stella might be listening.
‘It’s just me,’ she added. Turning, she flapped her hand at Alex and he hesitated for only a moment before giving a curt nod and stepping out onto the veranda, sliding the door shut behind him. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Stella. You can talk through the door if you want, but it might be better if you let me come in.’
Susie had to bite her lip to allow the next silence to continue long enough for Stella to think it through. Finally, when it seemed she might have failed already, she heard shuffling sounds and then an odd thumping on the door.
‘What’s happening? You haven’t hurt yourself, have you?’
‘I’m using my crutch.’ Stella’s voice was thick. She had been crying long enough to make it sound like she had a heavy head cold. ‘To open the lock.’
Another thump then a bang and then Susie heard the metallic clink of the bolt moving. She tried the handle of the door and it opened.
‘Lock it again,’ Stella ordered.
‘OK.’