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www.millsandboon.co.uk
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Copyright
Emily Forbes is the pseudonym of two sisters who share both a passion for writing and a life-long love of reading. Beyond books and their families, their interests include cooking (food is a recurring theme in their books!), learning languages, playing the piano and netball, as well as an addiction to travel—armchair travel is fine, but anything involving a plane ticket is better. Home for both is South Australia, where they live three minutes apart with their husbands and four young children. With backgrounds in business administration, law, arts, clinical psychology and physiotherapy they have worked in many areas. This past professional experience adds to their writing in many ways: legal dilemmas, psychological ordeals and business scandals are all intermeshed with the medical settings of their stories. And, since nothing could ever be as delicious as spending their days telling the stories of gorgeous heroes and spirited heroines, they are eternally grateful their mutual dream of writing for a living came true.
They would love you to visit and keep up to date with current news and future releases at the Medical™ Romance authors’ website at: http://www.medicalromance.com/
There are lots of essentials in a girl’s life.
No doubt love scores top position on most women’s
lists, but I suspect friendship is right up there for
most of us, too. And there’s no friendship quite like
the relationship shared with girlfriends. Sorrows that
require chocolate, successes that demand champagne,
laughter and tears all combine to create a tapestry of
‘Do you remember?’ moments that, woven together,
make the bond with our female friends so remarkable.
And so, to my beautiful, wonderful, kaleidoscope-tapestry
of girlfriends, thank you for your friendship.
It means more than you know. And to Helen, Ali,
Manda and Anne, a special thank you for your
unwavering support and encouragement.
And while I hope sorrows are few and far between,
there’s always chocolate in my cupboard
and a place on my couch for each of you.
This one’s for the girls!
CHAPTER ONE
THIS is a perfect moment.
The thought surprised Rosie as she sat on the sparkling gold sands of Bondi Beach, looking out over the clear blue water.
It surprised her because, only a moment before, she’d been reflecting on the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn her life had pivoted through two months ago, and every day since: the loss of her beloved brother and sister-in-law; her instant transformation from aunt to the guardian of her twin eight-year-old nephew and niece; the break-up with Philip; the consequent move from Canberra back to Sydney. Since then, she’d been in shock, grief-stricken and feeling like she’d never get on top of her new life.
Yet, sitting here, with the morning sun warming her face, in her first quiet moment that week, she had a brief glimmer of hope that things might somehow work out okay. She picked up a handful of sand and let it trickle slowly through her fingers. The top inch of sand was warm. A little deeper, where the sun’s rays hadn’t yet penetrated, the sand was cool and damp against her skin.
Another glorious summer day lay ahead. Later on, the beach would be crowded. Right now, it was relatively empty and it didn’t take long to scan the beach to check her niece’s whereabouts. The junior surf lifesavers had come out of the water and were packing equipment away, Lucy among them. Rosie stood, shaking the sand off her sundress, and walked along the beach towards the group.
‘How did you go this morning, Luce?’ Her niece had bounded up to her, still full of her usual energy.
‘I got a personal best time for the sand sprint. Did you see me?’
‘I was watching but you were going so fast you were just a blur!’ Rosie hugged the little girl, pulling her into her side. Lucy chatted non-stop as they climbed the path leading from the beach to the esplanade, only pausing for breath once she had her usual post-training Sunday milkshake in hand.
Coming out of Marie’s Milk Bar, Rosie nearly tripped over a small dog that dashed past the entrance. She stopped suddenly and felt Lucy bump into her back. A young boy ran past, calling out to the dog. The dog had no intention of obeying and dashed out into the road.
She could see disaster unfolding in front of her.
‘Stop!’ she yelled, but the boy neither paused nor looked as he chased the animal. Rosie watched with horror as a car swerved sharply to the left to miss the dog, colliding instead with the child.
The car wasn’t travelling quickly, the esplanade was too narrow and too busy for that, but it still struck the boy with enough force to send him spinning up into the air before he crashed to the bitumen.
Traffic came to a stop and the hum of dozens of conversations ceased as people processed what had just happened. For a brief moment there was silence before voices began again and witnesses and bystanders swarmed onto the road.
‘Wait here,’ Rosie said to Lucy, handing over her takeaway latte before joining the gathering crowd.
‘I’m a doctor.’ Rosie raised her voice as she pushed her way through the throng. ‘Let me through.’
The driver, a young female, emerged from the car, shaky and pale. ‘I didn’t see him, I didn’t have time to stop.’
‘Someone call an ambulance and get this woman to sit down.’ The woman would be in shock. Rosie doubted she was injured but, if she was, her injuries would need to wait. The priority was the boy.
He was lying in a crumpled heap on the road, blood spilling from a gash on his head. The car that had hit him was protecting them both from the traffic and Rosie didn’t think they were in any immediate danger from that angle. She knelt down beside the child. He was breathing but his eyes were closed. Was he conscious? She gently shook his shoulder, asking him if he could hear her. There was no response.
‘Can I help?’ Rosie felt, rather than saw, a man crouch down beside her. She didn’t look up from her examination of the little boy, but she didn’t need to look up to know the man was from New Zealand. The inflection on his vowels told her that. ‘I’m a doctor.’
‘Thanks.’ She also didn’t have to look up to know he was tall, and together with the quiet, calm confidence in his voice, it made his presence even more reassuring. ‘He’s breathing but unconscious.’
‘Was there anyone with him? Does anyone know his name?’
Lucy appeared by Rosie’s side, cradling the runaway dog in her arms. ‘Rosie, it’s Matt. From school. Do you want me to get his mum?’
Rosie didn’t want to think about how, or where, Lucy had cornered the dog, but she would like to see Matt’s mum. She glanced up at her skinny-legged niece, her knees covered in bits of grass and sand. ‘Is she here?’
‘I don’t think so but I know where they live.’
Sending Lucy off on her own wasn’t an option. ‘Maybe we can ring her?’
‘I’ll do it.’ Marie from the milk bar was standing behind Lucy.
‘Thanks.’ Rosie nodded at the woman. ‘Go with Marie, Luce, and see if you can reach Matt’s mum.’
‘The ambulance is on its way.’ Someone from the crowd passed this information on.
‘Matt, can you hear me? Matt?’ The other doctor was talking and Rosie turned back to the boy, relieved to find his eyes were now open. ‘Hi, there, mate. Lie still, you’ve had a tussle with a car. My name’s Nick, I’m a doctor, and I’m just going to check a few things out. This is…’
He paused and Rosie knew he was waiting for her response. She looked at him properly for the first time and, as their eyes met, she felt a bolt of attraction so strong it made her catch her breath. What an incongruous reaction, she thought as she managed to answer, ‘Rosie.’ Her voice came out as a whisper.
‘She’s a doctor too.’
Rosie had to force herself to concentrate as they both turned their attention back to Matt. She applied pressure to the gash in Matt’s head, using a clean beach towel from her bag, and took his pulse with her other hand.
‘Where does it hurt?’ Nick asked.
‘My arm and my leg.’ His right leg was bloodied and there was already significant swelling around his knee.
‘Can you wriggle your toes?’
Matt could move his toes but moving his foot seemed to cause him pain. Rosie watched as Nick ran his large hands gently over Matt’s leg, feeling for any major trauma. Matt had probably sustained a fractured fibula and possibly even tibia but, as his leg was still straight, Rosie suspected it wasn’t too bad. As she listened to Nick’s examination she couldn’t help but catch glimpses of him whilst checking her watch and timing Matt’s pulse.
His jaw was strong, slightly square in shape without being heavy, and darkened by a shadow of a beard, as if he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. He had fabulous cheekbones, a narrow nose, not too big and not too small, and the fullest lips she’d ever seen on a man, a perfect cupid’s bow. The masculine strength of his facial bone structure saved his nose and mouth from looking almost too perfect. His dark hair was thick and wavy with a cowlick at the front.
He squatted beside Rosie, his shoulders higher than hers, and she guessed he was taller than she was by several inches, no mean feat when she was five feet ten inches. His limbs were long and lean and he looked in good physical shape. She was glad she was the one applying pressure to the wound, leaving her free to soak in his image. Not that she was interested in him, of course. She didn’t even have time to put the washing away, so how would she ever have time to meet another man? But a girl would have to be comatose not to appreciate pure aesthetic male beauty when she was staring right at it.
‘How about your fingers?’ Nick asked the boy.
Matt was clutching his right arm, trying to keep it immobile, but managed to wriggle his fingers.
‘Can you tell me what day it is?’
‘Friday?’
The uncertainty in Matt’s reply told them what they needed to know. There was no need to tell him it was Sunday but he obviously had concussion.
‘Matt, you’ve broken your arm and your leg, I’ll need you to keep lying as still as you can for a little bit longer,’ Nick instructed.
Rosie heard the wail of an ambulance siren in the distance and as she tilted her head to listen to make sure it was coming closer, she saw Marie and Lucy returning. Marie gave her a thumbs-up signal.
Rosie deliberately trained her eyes on Matt as she spoke, not willing to risk losing her breath again if she accidentally sneaked a glance at her temporary colleague. ‘Your mum is on her way and I’ll wait with you until the ambulance gets here. It will take you and your mum to the hospital.’ Rosie kept hold of Matt’s good hand while she kept the pressure on his head wound with her other hand. A single tear rolled down his cheek. ‘It’ll be okay, Matt. You’re being very brave.’
Nick stood up, stretching his legs and distracting Rosie. He was wearing a T-shirt and boardshorts that showed off tanned, muscular calves. Where had he been when the accident happened? Had he just been for a swim? She looked up further. His hair was clean and dry so perhaps he was just on his way to the beach. As she watched, he ran his hand through the front of his hair, pushing it off his face from where it fell from the cowlick. He really was striking.
A siren’s ‘whoop, whoop’ pierced the air as the ambulance manoeuvred the final distance through the traffic. In the next moment Matt’s mother arrived and Rosie went to comfort her and explain the situation while Nick filled the paramedics in.
The paramedics did their checks, popped a cervical brace around Matt’s neck as a precaution, stabilised his arm and splinted his leg before rolling him onto the stretcher. In a few minutes Matt and his mother were being whisked off to hospital.
Just like that, everything was back to normal, the crowd was dispersing, Marie had returned to her shop and the traffic was flowing freely again. The car that had hit Matt had been moved to the side of the road and the driver was giving her statement to a policeman. There was a sense of anticlimax. Only she, Lucy and Nick stood on the edge of the pavement. Despite being a doctor, she’d never been at the scene of an accident before. What happened next? Should she thank Nick for his help or simply say goodbye? As she stood there, pondering the dilemma, Lucy started asking questions, breaking the silence.
She expected Nick to head straight off but he stayed put, seemingly content to listen to her confident, chatty niece, so different from her twin. There didn’t seem to be anybody waiting for him. Maybe he was as uncertain of the etiquette of beachside medical emergencies as she was? She smiled at the idea; uncertainty was not a quality that fitted this man.
‘Thanks for your help, Nick.’ She met his gaze, still smiling. ‘Don’t let us hold you up.’
‘You’re not.’ He returned her smile and his was handsdown the most adorable, warming grin she’d ever been treated to. If he’d been good-looking before, he was drop-dead gorgeous now, his whole face lit up, his blue-grey eyes sparkling. ‘I’ve only got a half-drunk cup of coffee to get back to and it’ll be cold by now. Join me for a fresh cup.’ He spread his hands wide to include them both and Lucy immediately took a step closer to him. His was clearly a charm with crossgenerational power.
She was tempted to accept his invitation, purely so she had an excuse to sit and look at him for a bit longer, but, for a whole host of reasons, she really couldn’t. ‘Thanks, but we really need to get home. We’re late as it is.’ She didn’t have to pretend polite regret, her whole body was thrumming with a desire to go with him. A wave of disappointment slammed over her, leaving her reeling.
He nodded, accepting her decision, cocking his head to the side to indicate he was sorry they couldn’t stay. Then Lucy tugged on his hand and pulled him down to her. He stooped to hear her and as the pair of them chatted, Rosie simply stared at the moment of realisation she’d just had.
If she’d been able to, she’d go with him anywhere, wherever he took her. She wouldn’t even have asked. She, who’d never been spontaneous, would have gone with a perfect stranger, no questions asked. She, who was cast in the perfect mould of a careful, methodical, responsible planner, would have tossed all that aside and simply held out her hand for him to take. But aunts responsible for the well-being of young twins didn’t have the luxury of being spontaneous, even if it had been in her to do so. It wasn’t in the job description of being the perfect guardian.
She looked from the top of Lucy’s blonde head to Nick’s dark one and back again, visually tracing his profile as he laughed at something Lucy was saying. Then he straightened up and met her gaze, catching her out.
‘Th-thanks again for your h-help,’ she stammered, sure he’d see the inconsistency between her words and her desires, temporarily blind-sided by the discovery of a whole new side to herself. A side that, had circumstances been different, would have let him take her hand and take her anywhere, do anything, and have her begging for more. ‘I really did appreciate not dealing with that on my own.’
‘Don’t mention it. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again under better circumstances.’ He didn’t seem to notice her confusion, her stammer or what she was sure was a wild look in her eyes. He held out his hand and Rosie took it. His grip was warm and firm, not too soft, not too strong. But more than that, there was a connection, just as she’d already known there would be, as though his touch had pushed a button in her palm. A button that went straight to her chest, making her heartbeat faster and her breathing more shallow. The connection travelled further, to the pit of her stomach, as though a thousand butterflies were there, fluttering madly towards an impossible escape.
She stood, her hand in Nick’s, completely unable to move away until Lucy, obviously tired of waiting now she no longer had Nick’s attention, said, ‘Come on, Rosie, we need to drop Matt’s dog off at his house on the way.’
It was only then that Rosie noticed Lucy was still holding the little white bundle of trouble. Somehow the dog had managed to come through the whole drama completely unscathed.
‘Right, of course,’ she said to her niece. ‘Goodbye, Nick.’
‘Bye, Rosie.’
Nick relaxed his grip, letting her hand go, and only then was Rosie able to get her legs working, although she was aware of her muscles fighting every step, protesting her departure. With every instinct screaming at her to stay, she followed Lucy and left Nick standing alone behind her.
Was walking away going to be a whole new source of regret? She knew the answer already. The most incrediblelooking man, who seemed kind and decent to boot, had asked her for a coffee and she didn’t have enough of a life that she could accept?
Balance.
She was missing any sort of balance. She glanced at Lucy, who was swinging on her hand, chirping away about her morning. She loved these two children, she had no qualms or doubts about taking care of them, but she’d scarcely drawn breath these last weeks. That’s all it was, that was all that lay behind her reaction. It made no sense to be overcome by fantasies of disappearing over the horizon with a perfect stranger. It was only because the equilibrium in her life right now was non-existent, otherwise, she’d have noticed Nick was good-looking but not given it another thought.
And yet, even with that perfectly rational explanation ringing in her ears, she had to struggle to leave.
‘We have to go down this street,’ Lucy told her as they reached the corner.
Rosie stopped just short of the corner, which loomed like the point of no return in front of her. If she continued into the side street, would Nick be gone for ever? She hesitated. They didn’t really have to go straight home. They could go back. Lucy liked him, too. Her niece would enjoy a few more minutes with Nick as much as Rosie would, so it wasn’t just her own out-of-character desire to run back to Nick that was causing her to linger on the corner. Right?
If Nick was watching them, she’d go back and have a coffee. If not, she’d keep going.
Turning around, she saw him talking to the policeman, obviously giving his version of events. He was concentrating on the conversation, his face in profile. He wasn’t looking in her direction. No doubt she was already far from his mind and she wouldn’t be given so much as another brief thought.
Rosie turned the corner, her disappointment acute.
Had she let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slide through her grasp? Or was it really only a wake-up call to sort her new life out better?
She sighed and ruffled Lucy’s damp hair. He’d asked her for a coffee, nothing more than that.
None of it mattered anyway. She’d done the right thing by the children. She hadn’t followed the heady pull towards Nick. Sure, maybe that had only been by default but she’d stayed true to her commitment. Her focus was the twins. Her priority was solely their welfare and she wouldn’t be distracted.
A cup of coffee with Nick would have provided her with far too many distractions. Distractions she at least had enough common sense left to know she was in no way equipped to deal with.
Nick glanced up from his conversation with the policeman just as Rosie turned the corner. Good-looking women were a dime a dozen in Bondi but there was something about this one…What was it? Her general appearance wasn’t dissimilar to hundreds of other women who frequented Sydney beaches, slim, tall and blonde. It was something else telling him she was different.
She seemed a little misplaced in Bondi, was that it? Even the backpackers blended into the crowd but Rosie seemed almost to stand apart from everyone else.
And what about the little girl with her? Rosie had no rings on her fingers and the girl had called her by her name, not Mum. She was a trained doctor so he guessed she wasn’t the au pair. Maybe Rosie was the partner of the girl’s dad? It seemed the most likely scenario. Pity, he would have liked to have had a coffee with her and he’d been hoping when he looked up she might have changed her mind and been heading back to him.
‘One last thing—’
The policeman had stopped scribbling in his pad and Nick had to turn his attention back to him.
Maybe he and Rosie would bump into each other again if she lived around here.
Then again, he told himself as he finished with the policeman and headed down to the beach for his swim, any involvement with a woman was the last thing on his to-do list right now. She was the first woman he’d met in a long time to really pique his interest and he wasn’t sure a coffee would sufficiently cool that interest.
There were places and times for everything in life. He didn’t doubt there would come a time and a place for a woman in his life again one day.
But right now wasn’t the time. Or the place.
Then how to explain this lingering feeling that a chance encounter on the beach might have shown him the woman?
Madness. He’d taken temporary leave of his senses due to…work stress? That was it. Work stress, life stress. So naturally his body wanted some female distraction, right at the very time he least needed it, when he was so close to finally realising his goals.
He waded into the waves, the cool of the sea hitting his shins before he dived in, striking out for his ritual Sunday swim. The water, slick on his skin, was as stimulating as it always was.
Pushing himself to go harder, faster, he willed the water to wash away the image of a certain woman from his mind.
Any form of temptation was madness. And that’s all this was. Nothing more.
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY raced inside, eager to tell her brother all the morning’s news, while Rosie headed for the kitchen, where her mother was doing the last of the breakfast dishes.
‘What happened? Are you all right?’
Rosie followed her mother’s gaze, looking down at her sundress that had started the day clean and white but was now covered in blood and dirt.
‘I’m fine. It’s not my blood. There was an accident, a pedestrian was hit, a boy from Lucy’s school.’ Rosie pulled out a kitchen stool and collapsed onto it. She should probably take over the dishes from her mum but she didn’t have the energy.
‘Is he okay?’
‘Some broken bones but he’ll be fine. It was a bit crazy.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on, you look like you could use a cup of tea.’
The old ritual of a cup of tea as a cure-all. Funnily enough, it did always seem to help. Maybe because it made you stop and catch your breath? Then again, in the two months since her brother and sister-in-law had died, she’d had so many cups of tea she sometimes felt she was one big tea bag herself.
Half-heartedly, she started sorting through the stack of mail, including her own redirected post, that had been dumped in a teetering pile on the kitchen bench. One more task that seemed to be getting away from her, one more task she started on routinely but never completed. Was that a key part of the definition of parenthood? She was starting to wonder.