How stupid to think doing a complete flip-over of her life would change anything.

She shoved her fists into her jacket pockets, already knowing she should have stayed at home for these months. Back in her gorgeous apartment overlooking Auckland’s inner harbour, the vibrant City of Sails, where money talked. Where gorgeous, chic sandals stayed gorgeous, not getting ruined the moment she hopped out of her car.

The months in Port Weston stretched out before her like an endless road. But she wasn’t quitting. Port Weston might be like nothing she was used to, but she had to stay. She’d given her word.

Then her eyes focused on Daniel Reilly, and for some unknown reason she wondered if she should leave right away, while she still could …

Dear Reader

The West Coast of New Zealand’s South Island is a very special place. It is wild and rugged, and stunningly beautiful. They breed them tough down there, and they need to. It is an area that has had more than its fair share of tragedies—the most recent being the Pike River Coal Mine disaster.

I have created a town that is an amalgam of all the towns along the coast as I couldn’t pick a favourite. The idea came to me on a trip home from Hokitika, when we came across a similar accident as that in the beginning of this story. Unfortunately the outcome was very different. That’s where writers have the upper hand. I have spent hours sitting on the beach in this district: beaches that show the full force of nature. It is that nature that forges the people who live in this remote area.

I hope you enjoy Dan and Sarah’s story. Sarah, a true blue Aucklander, learns with Dan at her side to appreciate the spirit of the people in this area, and all the wonderful everyday things they have to offer. Dan is beginning to live again, drawn out of a funk by the sassy, citified goddess sharing his home.

Cheers!

Sue MacKay

www.suemackay.co.nz

About the Author

With a background working in medical laboratories, and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Medical™ Romance stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her husband in beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she can indulge her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.

Also by Sue MacKay:

RETURN OF THE MAVERICK

PLAYBOY DOCTOR TO DOTING DAD

THEIR MARRIAGE MIRACLE

These books are also available in ebook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Tania

For all the moments we have shared, and the moments to come.

And

Kate David: the newest and very supportive member of the Blenheim Writers’ Group.

Surgeon in a
Wedding Dress

Sue MacKay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

NEW YEAR’S DAY. Resolutions and new beginnings.

‘Huh.’ Sarah Livingston scowled. As if anything new, or interesting, was likely to be found down here in the South Island, so far from the cities. Thanks to her fiancé—very ex-fiancé—coming to this godforsaken place had more to do with excising the pain and hurt he’d caused, and nothing at all to do with anything new.

But there was a resolution hiding somewhere in her thinking. It went something like ‘Get a new life’. One that didn’t involve getting serious with a man and being expected to trust him. Surely that was possible. There had to be plenty of men out there willing to date a well-groomed surgeon with a penchant for fine dining; who didn’t want anything other than a good time with no strings.

So why couldn’t she raise some enthusiasm for that idea? Because she hadn’t got over her last debacle yet. Six months since she’d been dumped, let down badly by the one man who’d told her repeatedly he’d loved and cherished her. Her heart still hadn’t recovered from those lies. Or from the humiliation that rankled every time someone at work spoke of how sorry they were to hear about her broken engagement. Of course they were. Sorry they’d missed out on going to her big, fancy wedding, more like.

After learning of the baby her fiancé was expecting with that sweet little nurse working in Recovery, Sarah had started putting in horrendous hours at the private hospital where she was a partner. It had been a useless attempt to numb the agony his infidelity caused her. Not to mention how she’d exhausted herself so she fell into bed at the end of each day instead of drumming up painful and nasty things to do to the man she’d loved.

And it was that man’s fault her father had decided, actually insisted, she get away for a few months. What had really tipped the scales for her in favour of time away from Auckland was that her ex was due back shortly from his honeymoon in Paris.

Swiping at the annoying moisture in her eyes, Sarah pushed aside the image of her beautiful French-styled wedding gown still hanging in its cover in the wardrobe of her spare bedroom.

Why couldn’t she forget those damning words her fiancé had uttered as he’d left her apartment for the last time. You should never have children. You’d be taking a risk of screwing up their lives for ever.

It had been depressingly easy to replace her at work with an eager young surgeon thrilled to get an opportunity to work in the prestigious surgical hospital her father had created. And who could blame the guy? Not her. Even being a little jaded with the endless parade of patients she saw daily, she still fully understood the power of her father’s reputation.

‘So here I am.’ She sighed. ‘Stuck on a narrow strip of sodden grass beside the coastal highway that leads from nowhere to nowhere.’

Her Jaguar was copping a pounding from a deluge so heavy the metalwork would probably be dented when the rain stopped. If it ever stopped.

Using her forearm to wipe the condensation from the inside of her window, she peered through the murk. The end of the Jag’s bonnet was barely visible, let alone the road she’d crept off to park on the verge. Following the tortuous route along the coast where numerous cliffs fell away to the wild ocean, she’d been terrified of driving over the edge to a watery grave. But staying on the road when she couldn’t see a thing had been equally dangerous.

So much for new beginnings. A totally inauspicious start to the year. And she still had to front up to the surgical job she’d agreed to take. Sarah’s hands clenched, as they were prone to do these days whenever she wondered what her future held for her. These coming months in Port Weston were an interim measure. This wasn’t a place she’d be stopping in for long. Fancy leaving a balmy Auckland to come and spend the summer in one of New Zealand’s wettest regions. Yep. A really clever move.

Her father’s none-too-gentle arguments aside, the CEO of Port Weston Hospital had been very persuasive, if not a little desperate. He’d needed a general surgeon so that Dr Daniel Reilly could take a long overdue break. A forced break, apparently. What sort of man did that make this Reilly character? A workaholic? She shuddered. She knew what they were like, having grown up with one. Or was she an arrogant surgeon who believed no one could replace him? Her ex-fiancé came to mind.

Sharp wind gusts buffeted the heavy car, shaking it alarmingly. Was she destined to spend her three-month contract perched on the top of a cliff face? On the passenger seat lay one half-full bottle of glacial water, a mottled banana and two day-old fruit muffins that had looked dubious when she’d bought them back at some one-store town with a forgettable name. Not a lot of food to survive on if this storm didn’t hurry up and pass through.

Sarah returned to staring out the window. Was it raining in Paris? She hoped so. Then she blinked. And craned her neck forward. There was the road she’d abandoned half an hour ago. And the edge of the precipice she’d parked on—less than two metres from the nose of her car. A chill slid down her spine, her mouth dried. Her eyes bulged in disbelief at how close she’d come to plummeting down to the sea.

With the rain easing, she could hear the wild crash of waves on the rocks below. Reaching for the ignition, she suddenly hesitated. It might be wise to check her situation before backing onto the road.

Outside the car she shivered and tugged her jacket closer to her body. A quick lap around the vehicle showed no difficulties with returning to the road. Then voices reached her. Shouts, cries, words—snatched away by the wind.

Pushing one foot forward cautiously, then the other, she moved ever closer to the cliff edge. As she slowly leaned forward and peered gingerly over the side, her heart thumped against her ribs. The bank dropped directly down to the ocean-licked rocks.

More shouts. From the left. Sarah steeled herself for another look. Fifty metres away, on a rock-strewn beach, people clustered at the water’s edge, dicing with the treacherous waves crashing around their feet and tugging them off balance. Her survey of the scene stopped at one dark-haired man standing further into the sea, hands on hips. From this angle it was impossible to guess his height, but his shoulders were impressive. Her interest quickened. He seemed focused on one particular spot in the water.

Trying to follow the direction of his gaze, she saw a boat bouncing against the waves as it pushed out to sea at an achingly slow pace. She gasped. Beyond the waves floated a person—face down.

Happy New Year.

Daniel Reilly stood knee-deep in the roiling water, his heart in his throat as the rescuers tried to navigate the charging waves. Aboard their boat lay an injured person. Alive or dead, Dan didn’t know, but he’d have a cardiac arrest soon if these incredibly brave—and foolhardy—men didn’t get back on land before someone else was lost.

The whole situation infuriated him. If only people would read the wretched signs and take heed. They weren’t put there for fun. It was bad enough having two people missing in the sea, a father and son according to the police. It would be totally stupid if one of the volunteer rescuers drowned while searching for them.

‘Doc, get back up the beach. We’ll bring him to you,’ a rescuer yelled at him. ‘It’s the lad, Anders Starne.’

‘He doesn’t look too good,’ Pat O’Connor, the local constable, called over the din.

Like the middle-aged cop, Dan had seen similar tragedies all too often around here. It wasn’t known as a wild, unforgiving coastline for nothing. But most calamities could be avoided if people used their brains. His hands gripped his hips as he cursed under his breath.

The kid had better be alive. Though Dan didn’t like the chances, it was inherent in him to believe there was life still beating in a body until proven otherwise.

Waterlogged men laid Anders on the sand, a teenager with his life ahead of him. Dan’s gut clenched as he thought of his own daughter. Even at four she pushed all the boundaries, and Dan couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d cope with a scenario like this. He totally understood why the father had leapt off the rocks in a vain attempt to save his son. He would do anything if Leah’s life was in jeopardy.

‘Except take a long break to spend time with her.’ The annoying voice of one of his closest friends, and boss, resonated in his head.

Yeah, well, he was doing his best. And because of interference from the board’s chairman, Charlie Drummond, he was taking time off, starting tomorrow. Pity Charlie couldn’t tell him how he was supposed to entertain his daughter, because he sure didn’t have a clue. Hopscotch and finger puppets were all very well, but for twelve weeks? What if he got it all wrong again? He’d be back at the beginning with Leah an emotional mess and he distraught from not knowing how to look after his girl. That scared him witless. He focused on the boy lying on the beach. Far easier.

Dropping to his knees, he tore at the boy’s clothing, his fingers touching cold skin in their search for a carotid pulse. A light, yet steady, throbbing under his fingers lifted his mood. He smiled up at the silent crowd of locals surrounding him. ‘He’s alive.’

‘Excuse me. Let me through. I’m a doctor.’ A lilting, female voice intruded on Dan’s concentration.

Annoyed at the disturbance, he flicked a look up at the interloper. ‘That makes two of us,’ he snapped, and returned his attention to his patient. But not before he saw a vision of a shapely female frame looming over him. Very shapely.

‘Where’d you come from?’ he demanded as he explored Anders’s head with his fingers.

‘Does that matter at this moment?’ she retorted.

‘Not really.’ He was local and therefore in charge.

‘What have you found so far?’ She, whoever she was, knelt on the other side of the boy.

He was aware of her scrutinising him. ‘His pulse is steady.’ He was abrupt with her as he straightened and looked her in the eye. Her gaze slammed into him, shocking the air out of his lungs. Eyes as green as the bush-clad hills behind them. And as compelling.

‘Then he’s one very lucky boy.’ Her tone so reasonable it was irritating.

And intriguing. Who was she? He’d never seen her before, and she wasn’t someone he’d easily forget with that elegant stance and striking face. He shook his head. Right now he didn’t need to know anything about her.

Jerking his gaze away, he spoke to the crowd again, ‘Someone get my bag from my truck. Fast.’ To the doctor—how did she distract him so easily?—he said, ‘I’ll wrap him in a survival blanket to prevent any more loss of body heat.’

The kid coughed. Spewed salt water. Together they rolled him onto his side, water oozing out the corner of his mouth as he continued coughing. His eyelids dragged open, then drooped shut.

‘Here, Dan.’ Malcolm, his brother and the head of the local search and rescue crew, pushed through the crowd to drop a bag in the sand. Dan snapped open the catches and delved into the bag for tissues and the foil blanket.

‘Thanks.’ The other doctor flicked the tissues from his grasp. Dan squashed his admiration for her efficiency watching her cleaning the boy’s mouth and chin as she tenderly checked his bruised face simultaneously. Her long, slim fingers tipped with pale rose-coloured polish were thorough in their survey.

‘I don’t think the cheek bones are fractured.’ Her face tilted up, and her eyes met his.

Again her gaze slammed into him, taking his breath away. The same relief he felt for the boy was reflected in her eyes. Facial bones were delicate and required the kind of surgical procedures he wasn’t trained to perform. He gave her a thumbs-up. ‘Thank goodness.’

The rain returned, adding to the boy’s discomfort. Dan began rolling Anders gently one way, then the other, tucking him into the blanket, at the same time checking for injuries. He found deep gashes on Anders’s back and one arm lay at an odd angle, undoubtedly fractured. For now the wounds weren’t bleeding, no doubt due to the low body temperature, but as that rose the haemorrhaging would start. The deep gash above one eyebrow would be the worst.

‘Where’s the ambulance?’ Dan asked Pat.

‘On its way. About three minutes out. It was held up by a slip at Black’s Corner.’

Anger shook Dan once more. This boy’s life could’ve indirectly been jeopardised because of some officious idiot’s unsound reasoning. For years now the locals had been petitioning to get Black’s Corner straightened and the unstable hillside bulldozed away, but the council didn’t have a lot of funds and small towns like Port Weston missed out all the time. He’d be making a phone call to the mayor later.

Looking down at the boy, Dan asked, ‘Anders, can you hear me?’ Eyelids flickered, which Dan took for a yes. ‘You’ve been in an accident. A wave swept you off the rocks. I’m checking for broken bones. Okay?’

Dan didn’t expect an answer. He didn’t get one. He wasn’t sure if the boy could hear clearly or was just responding to any vocal sounds, so he kept talking. It must be hellishly frightening for Anders to be surrounded by strangers while in pain and freezing cold.

Beneath the thermal blanket Dan felt the boy’s abdomen. No hard swelling to indicate internal bleeding. The spleen felt normal. So far so good. But the sooner this boy was in hospital the better.

‘That left arm doesn’t look right,’ a knowledgeable, and sensual, feminine voice spoke across the boy.

Dan’s fingers worked at the point where the arm twisted under Anders’s body. His nod was terse. ‘Compound fracture, and dislocated shoulder.’

‘Are we going to pop that shoulder back in place now?’

‘We should. Otherwise the time frame will be too long and he might require surgery.’

‘I’ll hold him for you.’ No questions, no time wasting. She trusted him to get on with it.

Daniel appreciated anyone who trusted his judgement, or anything about him, come to that. His mouth twisted sideways as he slid the boy’s tattered shirt away from his shoulder. ‘A shot of morphine will make him more comfortable.’

The drug quickly took effect. Dan raised the arm and, using all his strength, rotated the head of the humerus, popping the ball joint back into its socket. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

The woman lifted Anders’s upper body while Dan wound a crepe bandage around the shoulder to hold it in place temporarily. As they worked, a whiff of her exotic perfume tantalised him, brought memories of another fragrance, another woman. His wife. She’d always worn perfume, even when mucking out the horses.

‘Where’s that ambulance?’ He was brusque, annoyed at the painful images conjured up in his mind by a darned scent.

Warmth touched his face, and so distracted had he been that it took a moment to realise that it was the sun. A quick look around showed the clouds had rolled back and once again the beach was sparkling as it bathed in the yellow light. Things were looking up.

As though reading his mind, Pat said, ‘Now that the rain has moved up the coast, the helicopter will be on its way. That’ll make our search a little easier.’

The boy’s father. Dan’s stomach clenched as he looked up at Pat, saw the imperceptible shake of the cop’s head in answer to his unspoken question. Deep sadness gripped him. Time was running out to find the man alive.

‘It was sheer chance the men found the lad when they did.’ Even as Pat talked they heard the deep sound of rotors beating in the air.

‘Hey, Daniel,’ a familiar voice called. Kerry was a local volunteer ambulance officer. ‘What’ve we got?’

Dan quickly filled him in and within moments Anders was being ferried on a stretcher to the ambulance. There went one very lucky boy. Dan watched the vehicle pull away, thinking about the waves throwing a body onto the sharp jags of the rocks. He shivered abruptly.

‘What happened out there?’ The woman stood beside him, nodding towards the sea.

Dan shook the image from his head and turned to face this other distraction. His world tilted as he once more looked into those fathomless eyes. It was hard to focus on answering her question. ‘Anders and his father were fishing off the rocks—’

‘In this weather? That’s crazy,’ she interrupted.

‘Of course it’s crazy.’ His jaw tightened. ‘But it happens. Anders slipped and his father leapt in after him.’

‘And the father’s still missing.’ It was a soft statement of fact. Her eyes were directed to the sea, scanning the horizon.

‘I’m afraid so.’ He lightened his tone. ‘Thank you for your help. You happened along at exactly the right moment.’ He wouldn’t thank her for the unwelcome hollow feeling in his gut that had started when this perturbing woman had arrived. Or the sensation of something missing from his life that he hadn’t been aware of until now. Soon she’d be on her way and then he’d forget this silly, unwelcome impression she’d made.

‘You can thank the appalling weather for that. I’d pulled off the road, and when the rain cleared I saw you all down here.’

His eyes scanned the close horizon. Already the sun was disappearing behind a veil of clouds. ‘Looks like we’re in for more.’

‘When doesn’t it rain?’ Exasperation tightened her face.

‘If it’s not raining around here that’s because it either just stopped or is about to start.’ In reality it wasn’t all that bad, but why destroy the coast’s reputation for bad weather? Especially with someone just passing through. Weird how that notion suddenly saddened him. Odd that a complete stranger had rocked him, reminding him of things he’d deliberately forgotten for years.

A sudden, unexpected thought slammed into his brain. Maybe it was time to start dating again. Like when? If he didn’t have time for his daughter, how would he manage fitting another person into his life? He couldn’t. End of story. End of stupid ideas.

The woman’s tight smile was still in place as her hands wiped at her damp jacket. ‘Guess we just had a fine spell, then.’

‘At least you got to see it.’ He mustered a joke, and was rewarded with a light laugh. A carefree tinkle that hovered in the air between them, drew him closer to her, wound an invisible thread around them both.

Then she glanced down at her feet and grimaced with disgust as she noticed the sloppy, glue-like mud that coated her pretty sandals. He’d swear she shuddered. Definitely a city dweller. Nothing like the women he knew and loved: wholesome, country women like his sisters and his late wife.

Trying to sound sympathetic, he said, ‘You should’ve worn gumboots.’

‘Gumboots?’ Those carefully crafted eyebrows rose with indignation.

‘Yes. Rubber boots that reach the tops of your shins.’

‘I know what gumboots are.’

Bet she’d never worn them. ‘Sure you do.’

‘Do you suppose I might be able to get a designer pair?’

‘Possum fur around the tops?’ Keep it light, then send her on her way before he did something dumb, like offer her coffee.

She tilted her head to one side. ‘How about crochet daisies? Yellow, to contrast with the black rubber.’

‘Hey, Dan, you heading to the hospital?’ Pat called across the sand.

Thankful for the interruption, Dan shook his head. ‘No, Alison can take care of the lad. I’ll hang around in case the guys find Starne senior.’ He patted his belt, checking for his pager.

‘Who’s Alison?’ the woman beside him asked.

‘She’s in charge of the emergency department and has a surgical background. She’d call if she needs me.’ What does this have to do with you? You’re an outsider.

‘Do you mind if I wait a while with you?’

Yes, I do. Inexplicably he wanted her gone. As though a safety mechanism was warning him to get away from her before it was too late.

Yet he couldn’t prevent his head turning towards her. Blonde strands of hair whipped across her cheeks in the skittish wind. He let his gaze wander over her. She was designer from head to foot. Her jacket was soft suede. Her well-fitted trousers had not come off a rack, at least not any ordinary shop rack. But what really caught his interest were the long, shapely legs those wet trousers clung to. They went on for ever.

‘Pardon? Oh, sorry. You want to stay? It’s not necessary.’

Flustered at having been sidetracked, he tripped over his words. First she had him joking with her, then she addled his brain. He struggled to focus on the important issues, not her. ‘If the searchers find anything now, it’s more likely to be a body. No one can survive in that icy water for very long.’

‘True, but it’s hard to give up hope, isn’t it?’ Her eyes were enormous in her pale face.

‘Very hard.’ His stomach tightened, because of the sad and pointless waste of a life. Not because of the empathy in her eyes.

‘I’d still like to wait.’ She wasn’t asking him, she was telling him, quietly but firmly.

Then from left field he felt a stirring in a region of his body he’d thought long dead. For two despair-filled years, he’d been unintentionally celibate. Now he couldn’t help himself—he glanced down at his groin. Relief poured through him. His reaction had been small. Tipping his head back, he laughed. Another long-forgotten act.

Definitely time to get out and about. That new nurse in the neonatal unit had dropped enough hints, and she obviously liked babies if she worked with them, which had to be a plus. Leah needed siblings. He’d never wanted her to be an only child.

He rubbed his arms. Wanting more children had led to a load of stress and difficulties in his otherwise wonderful marriage. Family was so important. Look how his sisters and brother had rallied round when Celine had died. But Leah would miss out on so much if he didn’t rectify the situation soon. Dating meant getting involved with another person. Was he ready? Would he ever be ready? Not while his guilt over letting down Celine hung over him like a dirty cloud.

Their marriage had been cut short by an aneurysm.

Cut short before they could resolve their problems. The shock of finding Celine’s lifeless body in the bathroom, with Leah sitting beside her singing as though nothing was wrong, still rocked Dan when he thought about it.

Which was why he didn’t think about it.

That’s also why dating was a bad idea. The whole concept of having someone else he might care about taken away from him so abruptly sent him into a cold sweat.

Suddenly the unknown woman thrust a hand out. ‘By the way, I’m Sarah Livingston, your replacement surgeon.’

‘Stone the crows.’ Shock barrelled through him.

It hadn’t occurred to him she might be the locum they expected to arrive tomorrow. The idea was absurd. She was too citified to be stopping here. Too … different. She wouldn’t fit in at all. His stomach tightened another notch. So she wasn’t passing through.

She was moving in.

Into his hospital, his clinic. Into his house.

Sarah tensed. What did the guy mean? Stone the crows. Hadn’t she just performed in a capable and professional manner? ‘You’ve got a problem with me?’

‘Ahh, no.’ The man sounded flummoxed. ‘Not at all.’ ‘I didn’t try to take control of your accident scene.’ Which was unusual. She hated playing second fiddle to anyone. But in this circumstance she’d gone along with him without any concerns. Odd. Was she coming down with something?

So far her impressions of him were straightforward. Strong hands. Sopping-wet, longish hair that appeared black. Eyes that held a load of caution and a quick anger. Then there were those wide shoulders that V’d down to narrow hips. He totally lacked style—his jeans and the baggy, woollen overshirt under his jacket were way past their use-by date. On a professional note, which was far more important, he’d performed very competently with the boy.

‘You certainly made things easier for me.’ His voice was deep, gruff, reminding her of a thistle—rough and prickly exterior, soft inside.

‘You are Dr Daniel Reilly? I heard someone call you Dan so I presumed so. If I’m mistaken, I’m sorry.’

His handshake was firm but brief, as though glad to get the niceties over. But not so fast that she didn’t notice the electricity flaring between them at his touch. Heat sizzled across her palm. Deep in her tummy warmth unfurled, reached throughout her body, reddened her cheeks.

‘It’s my practice you’ll be looking after.’ His tone hardened.

So that was it. He wasn’t happy about leaving his practice in someone else’s hands. The reluctance came through loud and clear. So why had he been told to take a break?

‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me, eager to get on with your holiday.’ She swallowed her disappointment at his lack of welcome. At least with him going on leave she mightn’t see much of him. She hoped.

Really? Truly? You don’t want to follow up on this attraction for him that’s gripping you? Absolutely not. Too soon after Oliver’s betrayal. Who said anything about getting close? What about a fling? A sigh slipped across her bottom lip as she studied Dr Reilly. She doubted her ability to have an affair and not get a little bit close to him. What a shame.

He ignored her jibe, instead turning his back to the pounding surf and nodding at an old, weatherboard building on the other side of the road. ‘We’ll wait in the Gold Miners’ Pub. Can’t have you catching a chill.’

As if. Sarah looked around at the sodden beach, the black, churning waters of the Tasman Sea, the heavy, leaden clouds racing in. Everything was wet, wet, wet. How could she have thought leaving home would help put the last few months behind her? She could’ve decided about her future in an environment she was used to, not on an alien planet.

How stupid to think doing a complete flip-over of her life would change anything. She shoved her fists into her jacket pockets, already knowing she should’ve stayed at home for these months, should’ve told her father no. Right now she’d be in her gorgeous apartment overlooking Auckland’s inner harbour, the vibrant City of Sails, where money talked. Where gorgeous, chic sandals stayed gorgeous, not getting ruined the moment she hopped out of her car.

The months in Port Weston stretched out before her like an endless road. But she wasn’t quitting. Port Weston might be like nothing she was used to, but she had to stay. She’d given her word.

Then her eyes focused on Daniel Reilly, and for some unknown reason she wondered if she’d be wise to leave right away, while she still could.

CHAPTER TWO

DR REILLY made Sarah, at five feet six, feel almost short. Following him into the dark, wood-panelled interior of the Gold Miners’ Pub, she admired his easy, smooth gait, his natural grace that belied his big build. The latent strength she’d glimpsed when he’d popped Anders’s joint back was evident in the set of his shoulders, in the loose swing of his hands. Her tongue licked her lips. Gorgeous.

He turned to her. ‘A shot of something strong will warm you through and stop your teeth chattering.’

‘I’d prefer Earl Grey tea.’

He winced. ‘Earl Grey? On the Coast?’ His eyes rolled. ‘That fancy city stuff won’t win you many friends around here.’

‘As that’s not why I’m here, it doesn’t matter.’

‘I’d like a practice to return to.’

‘Not a problem.’ The man’s looks might take her breath away but his prickly disposition annoyed her. Was she the only one he treated that way? Probably not, if he had to be forced to take leave. The intensity with which he studied her sent a blush right down to her toes. Did he like what he saw? Did she care? Uh, hello? Unbelievable how quickly her awareness of him had reached the point where she wondered how his touch on her skin would affect her. It would burn her up, she suspected. Her overreaction must be due to the contrast between the overly hot room and the chilly dampness outside. What else could it be?

Try lust or physical attraction; forget the weather. Really? Then her stomach growled. That’s what this was all about. Lack of food. Not Dr Yummy.

‘I heard that grumbling,’ the man dominating her thoughts said, amusement briefly lightening those cool, assessing eyes.

‘I’m starving.’ Hardly surprising. Unable to bring herself to eat those woeful muffins, her last meal had been breakfast. A glance at her watch showed it was now after five.

Behind the long bar a pretty woman with wild red hair called across the room. ‘Dan, the hospital phoned to say everything’s under control.’ The woman looked pointedly at Sarah. ‘Can I get you both a drink? I’m sure your friend might like something.’

Shock registered on Dan’s face. ‘This is Sarah Livingston. My locum.’

Not his friend. Probably never would be. What a pity.

‘Are you really?’ the woman asked Sarah, her face lighting up with a speculative gleam as her gaze moved to Dan and back. ‘Wonderful.’

Sarah gulped. Don’t get any bright ideas about matchmaking. If Oliver’s defection had taught her anything it was not to trust as easily as she had last time. Besides, Dan Reilly was far too unsophisticated for her liking. Except that sculpted body did fascinate her. Maybe she could cope with unsophisticated—as an interlude. Hadn’t she thought about having fun with men who didn’t want anything more demanding? But an affair with this man? Not likely. That could complicate things when she had to step into his shoes at the local hospital.

Dan continued the introductions. ‘Jill’s our head theatre nurse, and a barmaid in her spare time. She’ll get you whatever you want, though a slug of brandy would do you a sight more good than tea.’

Sarah retorted, ‘Suggestion noted.’ Forget the interlude. If she ever progressed to having an affair it would be with someone personable and fun, not grumpy and domineering.

Jill leaned across the counter. ‘Welcome to Port Weston. Since we’ll be working together, give me a call if you have any questions about work or anything else. Or if you’re ever hankering for a coffee, I’m available.’

‘Thanks for that.’ At least someone was pleased to see her here. ‘You must be busy, with two jobs.’

‘Malcolm, my husband and Dan’s brother, runs the pub except when he’s out rescuing fools who don’t read warning signs.’ Jill banged two glasses on the counter. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Two brandies.’ Dan didn’t consult Sarah, instead told her, ‘Malcolm’s the search and rescue coordinator.’

‘He was one of the men who’d carried Anders in?’ No wonder Jill looked worried.

‘Yep.’ Dan sipped his drink appreciatively.

‘I’ll bet he went straight back out to sea after handing his charge over to you.’ Jill glared at Dan.

‘Hey, steady up. You know there’s no way I could’ve stopped him. A team of Clydesdale horses couldn’t have.’ Dan reached across and covered Jill’s hand with his.

There were tears in the other woman’s eyes. ‘I know, but he worries me silly. One day he won’t come back from a rescue mission.’

Sarah found herself wanting to hug Jill. And she didn’t do hugs. Not very often anyway. Certainly not with people she’d only just met. But, then, she wasn’t normally rattled by a man like Dan either. Or any man, come to think of it. Must be something in the West Coast air.

Dan said to Jill, ‘Don’t think like that. You know you wouldn’t change him for anything.’ Then he turned his attention back to Sarah. ‘We’d better get out of our wet clothes. You’re shivering non-stop.’

‘I’ll get some dry things from my car in a moment.’ Sarah took a large swallow of brandy, gasping as it burned a track down her throat. ‘Wow.’

‘Wait till the warmth spreads through you, then you won’t be twisting your nose sideways like that.’ Dan actually smiled. A long, slow smile that at last went all the way to his eyes.

Blue eyes. So what? It was a common colour. But other blue eyes didn’t remind her of hot, lazy days at the beach. Or make her toes curl up in anticipation of exciting things to come. Like what? Who cared? Anything with this man would be exhilarating. Was it possible to become drunk in thirty seconds? Because that’s how she felt.

‘Where’re your keys? I’ll get your bag, save you getting another drenching.’

So he could do ‘nice’. She dug into her jacket pocket, handed her keyring to him. ‘My car’s out the front.’

His fingers were warm against hers as he took the keys. ‘I know. It’s the odd one out amongst the dirty four–wheel-drives and family wagons.’

‘It fits in where I come from.’

‘I’m sure it does.’ Dan hauled the heavy front door open with a jerk. ‘Malcolm still hasn’t shaved this blasted door, Jill.’

‘Tell him, not me.’ Jill topped up Sarah’s glass even though it wasn’t empty. ‘Here, a bit more won’t hurt you. There’s no colour in your cheeks.’

‘Thanks, but I’d better go easy on it.’ What she really needed was food.

‘A hot shower will do you wonders. You can use our bathroom.’

A blast of cold air hit her as Dan poked his head around the door, looking bemused. ‘Which bag?’

‘The small one.’ Hopefully that contained everything she needed.

‘You didn’t bring a small one,’ Dan retorted. ‘Why do some women have to cart their whole wardrobe everywhere they go?’

‘Guess that’s a rhetorical question.’ Sarah stared at the closing door.

‘Guess he’s exaggerating?’ Jill’s smile warmed her.

‘Definitely not all my clothes.’ Already she liked Jill enough to relax with her. Could she be making a new friend? What was the point? She’d be gone in three months. There again, a friend would be good. She missed the three women she’d known since high school and done all her growing up with.

They’d gone to university together, coming out well versed in life and clutching degrees to their proud chests. Two doctors, one architect and an advertising guru. Three marriages, three mothers; and then there was her. Sometimes she knew she didn’t quite belong to the quartet any more. Conversations over dinners and coffee seemed to revolve around children and school timetables, husbands and schedules—things Sarah didn’t have a clue about.

Jill was still talking. ‘Dan’s okay behind that rugged exterior. A pussy cat really. You’ll get along fine.’

Sarah knew pussycats, even those in disguise. Dan didn’t fit the bill. Tiger was a more apt description. Stealthy when he had to be. Fast when he went for the kill. There was a mix of strength and stubbornness in the set of his chin. His classic handsome features were made interesting by a too-wide mouth and a ragged scar on the point of his chin.

‘Here you go, the small one,’ Dan said from behind her, causing her to jump. Definitely stealthy.

Jill asked Dan, ‘Can you show Sarah to my bedroom? The rescue crew can’t be far away and they’ll be wanting food.’

At the mention of food Sarah’s stomach turned over. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, and then I’ll give you a hand,’ she told Jill. Whoa, back up. She’d help? In a pub? She’d get messy and greasy.

New year, new life, remember?

‘Along here.’ Dan led the way out to the back and into the private quarters. He opened a door and let her precede him into a double bedroom. ‘The bathroom’s through there.’

He smelt of damp wool and warm male as she brushed past him. No trace of expensive aftershave or hair product. A clean, uninhibited masculine scent. Sarah hesitated, looked back over her shoulder at him, a sudden longing for something she couldn’t put her finger on gripping her.

‘What about you?’ She was suddenly, oddly, nervous.

Placing her case in the middle of the floor, he turned to leave. His look was cool, his mouth a straight line. ‘There’s another bathroom next door.’

As she poked through her case for suitable clothes she could hear Dan moving about in that other bathroom, presumably preparing for his shower. An image of a well-muscled body filled her mind. And of a rare but endearing, smile tinged with sadness. What caused that sadness? Of course, she could be wrong about the muscles. She hoped not. A thrill of pleasure warmed her body—and shook her carefully formulated concept of her time in Port Weston.

The jets of water were piping hot against her skin and she gave herself up to them, putting aside thoughts of Daniel Reilly, good and otherwise. Especially those about his body. But how could a bad-tempered man wearing such shapeless clothes ooze so much sex appeal?

The bar was crowded and the mood sombre when Sarah returned. Dan was perched on a stool at the end of the long counter. He waved her over. ‘Do you want another drink?’

Schooling her face into a smile, Sarah looked him over as she replied, ‘No, thanks.’

His clean shirt fitted snugly across his chest while his dry, worn jeans were tight. Her mouth dried. Beneath the faded denim his thighs were every bit as muscular as she’d imagined.

‘Anders’s father still hasn’t been found.’

‘That’s not good.’ She pulled her shoulders back, focusing on what Dan said, not what he wore.

‘That lad needs his father alive and well, not dead and washed up on a beach,’ Dan snapped.

‘Some people will always take chances.’ But not her. She’d focused on her career, foregoing a relationship until she’d specialised, at the same time working on making her father proud.

‘They shouldn’t, not when they’ve got a family to consider.’

Sarah totally agreed with him, but diplomatically changed the subject. ‘Does Port Weston have a GP? I didn’t see one on the beach.’

‘Tony Blowers. He’s up a valley, delivering a baby, at the moment.’

‘Lucky for Anders you were here, then.’ She looked around, spied Jill busy pulling beers, and remembered her promise. ‘I said I’d help with the food so I’d better find out what’s to be done.’

‘You did?’ He didn’t bother disguising his surprise. Those intense cobalt eyes measured her up and down, making her very aware of the snug black slacks and black figure-hugging cotton sweater she’d pulled on.

Dan drawled, ‘You might just fit in here yet.’

Pity he didn’t sound like he meant it. ‘You don’t want me here, do you?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Thank you for your honesty.’ That she could deal with. It was a little harder to ignore the fact he wouldn’t give her a chance.

‘It’s nothing personal,’ Dan added quietly.

‘That’s a relief,’ she muttered, hoping he meant it and wasn’t trying to placate her.

The door crashed back against the wall and drenched men, carrying a stretcher, pressed into the pub. Pat told Dan, ‘We’ve found Starne. He washed up further along and tried to climb the cliff. Fell, and broke his arm, by the look of it.’

‘Put him on the couch. It’s warmer in here than in a bedroom.’ Dan removed cushions and the men lowered the stretcher.

Kneeling down beside the man, Sarah told him, ‘I’m Sarah Livingston, a doctor. Can you hear me?’

The man’s eyes flew open. ‘Where’s my son? Is he all right?’ He tried sitting up, pushing on his elbows, only to flop back down, groaning with pain.

Dan laid a hand on the man’s chest. ‘Take it easy.’

Starne tried to knock Dan’s hand away with his good arm. ‘Is my boy all right? Tell me what happened to him.’ The distressed man looked ready to leap up off the couch.

‘I’m Dan Reilly, a surgeon. I saw Anders when the rescuers brought him onto the beach.’ Dan continued giving Starne the details about his boy, finishing with, ‘He’s in hospital and doing well.’

Jill helped Sarah tuck blankets around the man. ‘I’ll have hot-water bottles ready very soon.’

Tears streamed down the man’s face. ‘The waves banged Anders against the rocks so many times. I couldn’t reach him. I thought he was gone.’

‘You’re both very lucky.’ Sarah noted his pulse rate as she talked.

Dan nudged her, spoke softly. ‘You’re doing great with him, calming him down better than I managed. I’ll do the secondary survey.’

She nodded, pleased with the compliment, however small, and silently counted the rise and fall of their patient’s chest. ‘I’m onto the resps.’

As his fingers felt for contusions Dan told their patient, ‘I’ll check you over, starting with your head.’

Those firm, gently probing fingers on Starnes’s scalp tantalised her. What would they be like on her skin, stroking, teasing, racking up the tension? ‘Damn.’ She started counting again.

Dan glanced at Sarah as he worked. ‘The sooner we get this man to hospital where he can see his boy, the better. I know that’s what I’d want if I’d been thinking the worst.’

Sarah’s heart squeezed. No parent wanted to outlive their child. As hers had done. ‘The downside of being a parent.’

She hadn’t realised she’d spoken aloud until Dan said, ‘Children cause a lot of worry and heartache, that’s for sure. Have you got any?’

‘No.’

‘I guess now’s not the time to ask why not.’

There’d never be a right time. ‘Resps slightly slow.’

‘Temperature?’ Dan asked. At least he could take a hint.

Sarah looked around for Jill. ‘You wouldn’t have a thermometer?’

‘Coming up.’ Jill was already halfway out the room.

‘Finding anything?’ Dan asked Sarah as she palpated Starnes’s stomach and liver.

She shook her head. ‘These two should buy a lottery ticket.’

‘We’re certainly not giving you time to settle in quietly, are we?’ Dan looked at her for a moment.

No, and being so close to him, breathing his very maleness, added to the sense of walking a swaying tightrope. ‘Guess I’ll manage,’ she muttered, not sure whether she meant the patients or Dan.

Someone handed them hot-water bottles, Sarah reaching for them at the same moment as Dan. Their hands touched, fingers curled around each other’s before they could untwine themselves. ‘S-sorry.’ Sarah snatched her hand back.

‘No problem,’ snapped Dan, his eyes wide and his face still.

Sarah cringed. Did he think she’d done that on purpose? Surely not? She couldn’t deny her attraction for him, but to deliberately grab his hand when she hardly knew him was not her style. Knowing that to say anything in her defence would only make the situation worse, she kept quiet, and again reached for the bottles, making sure to keep well away from Dan.

She placed the bottles in Starnes’s armpits and around his groin to maximise his potential for absorbing the warmth.

‘The left ankle is swollen, possibly sprained,’ Sarah pointed.

‘My thoughts exactly.’

‘Will we—I—be required to go into theatre if surgery’s needed?’ Sarah almost hoped not. She was tired and hungry, not in good shape to be operating.

Dan sat back on his haunches and those piercing eyes clashed with hers. ‘You don’t officially start until tomorrow so if someone’s needed I’ll do it.’

Why? She’d come for one reason only, and he was holding her back. As her blood started heating up and her tongue forming a sharp reply, he continued, ‘You’ll want to unpack and settle in at the house. Alison should manage unless she’s got another emergency.’

Sarah eased off on her annoyance. How could she stay mad when those eyes bored into her like hot summer rays? ‘As long as you know I’m happy to assist if needed.’

A blast of cold air announced the arrival of the ambulance crew. ‘Hi, there, again.’ Kerry hunkered down beside Dan. ‘What’ve we got this time?’

While Dan relayed the details Sarah stood and stretched her calf muscles, arching her back and pulling her shoulders taut. Dan’s gaze followed her movements as he talked to the paramedic, sending a thrill through her. Those eyes seemed to cruise over her, as though they could see right through her to things she never told anyone. Which was plain crazy. How could this man, a stranger really, see through her façade? See beyond the clothes to her soul? He couldn’t. Could he?

‘Here …’ Jill waved across the punters’ heads. ‘Sandwiches and a coffee. Or would you like something stronger?’

‘Coffee’s fine.’ Grateful for the food, Sarah swallowed her disappointment at the mug of murky instant coffee being slid across the counter towards her. ‘Do you still need a hand in the kitchen?’

‘I’ve got it covered. Bea arrived while you were in the shower, and she’s happy as a kid in a sandpit out there cooking up fries.’

‘Bea?’

‘Dan’s sister.’

‘Is everyone around here related to him?’ Biting into a thick sandwich filled with ham and tomato, Sarah told her stomach to be patient, sustenance was on the way down.

‘Not quite.’ Dan sent Jill a silent message before turning to Sarah. ‘You want to share those?’ He nodded at the sandwiches.

Not really. She could eat the lot. ‘Sure.’ Sarah prodded the plate along the counter towards him, wondering what he hadn’t wanted Jill to mention in front of her. ‘So you come from a big family.’

‘Yep, and they’re quite useful at times.’

‘What he means is we all run round after him most of the time.’ Jill winked at Sarah.

They needn’t think she’d play that game. She’d come to run his clinic, nothing else. ‘How far from here is the house I’m staying in? I’ve got some directions but it’s probably quicker if you tell me.’

Wariness filtered into Dan’s eyes. ‘You can follow me shortly.’

‘I’d really like to go now.’

‘Soon.’ Then suddenly his eyes twinkled and he waved at someone behind her. ‘Sweetheart, there you are.’

Disappointment jolted Sarah. Of course Dan would have a wife. No man as good looking as this one would be single. Turning to see who he was smiling at, her heart slowed and a lump blocked her throat. The most gorgeous little girl bounded past her, her arms flung high and wide as she reached Dan.

‘Daddy, there you are. Auntie Bea brought me here. She made me some fries.’

‘Hi, sweetheart. Guess you won’t be needing dinner now.’ Dan scooped the pink and yellow bundle up and sat her on his knee.

‘You’re late, Daddy.’

‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ The man looked unhappy, as though he’d slipped up somehow. ‘I had to help Uncle Malcolm.’

Sarah stared at father and daughter. Their eyes were the same shade of blue. They had identical wide, full mouths, the only difference being the little girl’s was one big smile while Dan’s rarely got past a scowl. Except now, with his daughter in his arms. The lump blocking Sarah’s throat slowly evaporated, her heart resumed its normal rhythm. But she melted inside, watching the child.

Since when did children do that to her? Since her wrecked marriage plans had stolen her dream of having a family. Why hadn’t Oliver taken that test for the cystic fibrosis gene as he’d promised to do when she’d first told him she was a carrier? Had he been afraid he might find he was imperfect? Did the idea that they might have to decide whether to have children or not if he’d tested positive prove too hard to face? Whatever the answers, he could’ve talked to her, not gone off and played around behind her back.

‘Hello.’

Sarah blinked, looked around, caught the eye of Dan, and, remembering where she was, immediately shoved the past aside. ‘Hi.’

The child wriggled around on Dan’s knee until she was staring at Sarah. ‘Are you the lady who’s coming to stay with us?’

Definitely not. ‘No, I’m Sarah, a doctor like your father.’

‘Sarah …’ Dan eased a breath through his teeth. ‘Leah’s right. You are staying with us.’

‘What?’ Absolutely not. No one had ever mentioned such a notion. Perspiration broke out on her forehead. Had she missed something? No, she couldn’t have. Staying with the local surgeon would’ve been one detail she’d definitely not overlook. ‘The board arranged a hospital house for me.’

‘That’s right. The one and only hospital house. Where I live with my daughter.’

Her shoulders sagged. He meant it. She was staying at Dan’s house. With Dan. And his daughter. ‘Your wife?’

‘There’s just the two of us.’ His mouth tightened. ‘You’ll be comfortable enough.’

No way. She couldn’t, wouldn’t. What about her unprecedented attraction to him? How could she handle that when they were squeezed into the same place? Then there was the job. He’d always be asking how she was doing. Who had she seen? How was she treating them? Her voice sounded shrill even to her. ‘There must be somewhere else. I don’t mind a small flat or apartment.’

‘This is Port Weston, not Auckland. Rental properties are few and far between. When I say there’s nothing else then there’s nothing. Believe me, I’ve checked.’ Dan stood up. ‘I’m not happy about it either. Unfortunately we’re going to have to bump along together—somehow.’

Of course Dan didn’t want her staying with him. He didn’t want her here, full stop. Tiredness dragged her shoulders down as she stood up from the stool she’d been perched on. ‘I’ll get my case.’

Bump along together, indeed. Her eyes widened and her face heated up. In a fantasy world, bumping up against Dan might be a whole heap of fun. There were definitely some very intriguing ways. But not in the ho-hum kind of way he was suggesting. Right now she wanted to bang him over the head for letting this happen.

Swinging Leah down to the floor, Dan watched Sarah striding across the room in a second, clean pair of silly sandals. Her cheeks had coloured up, and her shoulders were stiff. Those amazing eyes were giving off sparks. Passion ran through her veins, he’d bet his job on it.

‘Sarah’s unhappy, Daddy.’ Leah wriggled down to the floor and grabbed his hand.

So was he. He didn’t need a sex siren in his home. Not when his body suddenly seemed to be waking up. But he couldn’t be blamed for the board crying off outlaying money for separate accommodation for her. It was part of his tenancy agreement that visiting doctors stayed with him. Of course, none of them came for more than a week at a time.

Charlie had also stressed the importance of keeping Dr Livingston happy during her time here. And then they put her in with me? Dan bit off an expletive.

Everyone in the district knew that Dr Livingston had to be looked out for. There’d be a concerted effort to make sure she wanted for nothing. The board had a plan. One where the locum would fall in love with Port Weston and its hospital and want to stay on when the contract was up. The plan was doomed from the start. By all appearances Sarah would not stay one minute longer than her contract stated. But the relief that knowledge should engender within him wasn’t forthcoming.

Did he want her to stay? No.

Did he want to cut back his working hours permanently? Maybe. If it all worked out with Leah. If he learned how to give her what she needed and didn’t fail her like he had last time he’d tried to be a hands-on solo dad. If. If. If.

Then he had to think about those little mistakes he’d begun making at work because he’d become exhausted. Thankfully none of them had been serious. Yet. He’d been doing horrendously long hours and Charlie had been right to start looking for another surgeon to share the load. Those long days had been an excuse to avoid going home and facing the truth that Celine was never coming back. He’d worked until he was so tired he could fall into bed and sleep.

He should be grateful to Sarah. She hadn’t forced this holiday on him, he had. By all accounts, she appeared to be the perfect locum, despite being an arrogant ‘suit’ from Auckland. Okay, not totally arrogant, but she was going to have difficulty fitting in here with those city mannerisms.

His eyes were riveted on the way her legs moved as she negotiated the crowd. Long, long legs that he imagined going— Get a grip. She was a colleague, not some female to be drooled over as though he was a sex-starved teenager. He winced. He was sex-starved. And only now beginning to notice. It had been so long he could barely remember what making love was like.

Now was not the time to find out. Which was another reason to wish Sarah on the other side of the planet.

Reaching her, he leaned down for her case at the same moment that she grabbed the handle.

‘Let me,’ he said quietly. And tried to breathe normally. The skin on the back on her hand was soft, smooth. Strands of blonde hair settled on her cheek. His heart stuttered. Such a mundane and delightful thing.

‘I can manage,’ she retorted.

‘I know, but let me.’

Her mouth fashioned a fleeting smile. ‘Thank you.’

This close he could see the dark shadows staining her upper cheeks. ‘Do you feel up to driving, or would you rather come back for your car in the morning?’

‘What, and have you hauling all those cases between vehicles?’ She managed another almost-smile. ‘I’ll follow you. Is it far?’

‘About five kilometres, on the other side of town.’ Thinking of the short street of shops, mostly farming and fishing suppliers, he knew Sarah would be shocked. There was one, surprisingly good, café run by a couple who’d opted for the quiet life after many years of running a business in Christchurch. Hopefully their coffee would be up to this woman’s expectations.

Sarah pulled the outside door open. ‘Allow me.’

‘Oh, no. After you.’ Dan gripped the edge of the door above her head.

She shrugged and ducked under his arm, out the doorway, bang into a throng of people crowding the steps. Leah danced along behind her. Fishermen crowded the porch, gathering to celebrate the rescue operation’s success.

‘Careful, lady!’ someone exclaimed. ‘Those steps are slippery.’

Sarah teetered at the edge of the top step. She put a hand out for balance but there was no railing to grab. Tripping, she made a desperate attempt to regain her footing. The heel of her sandal twisted, tipped her sideways and she went down hard, crying out as she thumped onto the concrete.

‘Sarah.’ Dan dropped her case, pushed through the men to crouch down beside her. ‘Don’t move. Let me look.’

She was on her backside, one leg twisted under her. ‘I’m fine. Just help me up, please.’ She put a hand out to him.

‘Wait until I’ve checked your leg.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s my foot that hurts. Probably bruised.’ Putting her hands down on either side of her hips, she tried to stand, but couldn’t. ‘Are you going to give me a hand, or do I ask someone else?’

‘Sit still.’ Those sandals weren’t helping. ‘How do you expect to be able to stand up on that narrow spike you call a heel?’

‘Typical male. Women are born to walk on heels,’ she retorted through clenched teeth. Leaning to one side, she straightened her leg out from under her bottom, and bit down on her lip.

He gently felt her ankle, then her foot. The tissue was soft, already swelling, and her sharp intake of breath confirmed his suspicions. ‘I think you’ve broken at least one bone. An X-ray will verify that.’

He’d call the radiology technician on the way to A and E. Technically a fracture in the foot could wait until the morning, but he didn’t want this particular patient finding their small hospital lacking.

‘That easily? That’s crazy.’ Sarah shook her head at her foot as though it was responsible for her predicament, and not those ridiculous shoes.

So much for Sarah taking over his practice this week. He should be pleased he’d be going to work. But even he understood his promise to Leah was meant to be kept. It didn’t matter he was terrified he wouldn’t measure up as a full-time dad for three months, and that Leah might revert to the disconsolate little girl he’d finally handed over to his family to help. He’d promised to try. Now, before he’d even started, their time together had to be postponed. He might’ve resented Sarah coming here, but right now he’d give anything to have her back on both feet and eager to get started.

CHAPTER THREE

SARAH hobbled after Dan as he carried a sleepy bundle of arms and legs into the weatherboard house. Leah had been tucked up in Jill’s bed when Dan had finally had time to pick up his little girl on the way home from hospital.

Guilt for keeping this tot out late swamped Sarah. Due to her clumsiness Leah hadn’t been with her dad when she should’ve been.

‘Make yourself comfortable while I tuck Leah into bed,’ Dan snapped over his shoulder, not easing Sarah’s heavy heart.

He had every right to be annoyed with her. As had the other people whose time she’d intruded upon. Jill had driven her car here and someone had followed to pick her up. The radiology technician had gone into the hospital especially for her. And then there was Dan, who hadn’t bothered to hide how he felt about this development.

Injuring her foot was a pain in the butt for her, too. If she hadn’t been so intent on putting some space between her and Dan, it wouldn’t have happened. The X-ray showed two broken bones. Her foot was twice its normal size and hurt like crazy. Thank goodness for painkillers.

Ignoring his order, Sarah followed Dan down the hall. Was he a good dad? Inexplicably she wanted to watch him tuck the child into bed, wanted another peep of Leah looking so cute with a blanket hitched under her chin and a bedraggled teddy bear squashed against her face. ‘She’s gorgeous,’ she whispered, afraid of waking the girl, worried Dan might tell her to go away.

‘Especially when she’s asleep.’ Dan’s soft smile made Sarah’s heart lurch. His big hand smoothed dark curls away from Leah’s forehead. ‘Actually, she’s gorgeous all the time but, then, I’m biased.’

‘So you should be.’

Dan placed feather-light kisses on his daughter’s cheeks and forehead. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

From deep inside, in the place she hid unwanted emotions, something tugged at Sarah. A reminder of how much she’d been looking forward to having a family of her own when she and Oliver were married. That man had taken a lot from her.

‘Are you all right?’ Dan stood in front of her.

‘Yes, of course.’ Or could these emotions come from something else? An image of her own father tucking her into bed floated across her mind. As if. That was a fantasy. Dad had always been at work at her bedtime. No, she was overtired and getting confused.

‘Your room is at the end of the hall. You’ve got an en suite bathroom so you won’t have plastic toys to trip over.’ Dan turned back towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll bring your cases in.’

‘Thank you. I’ll put the kettle on. Do you want a hot drink?’

‘If you wait a few minutes, I’ll get that. Go and put your foot up.’

‘Dan, I am not incapable of boiling water.’

Loud knocking prevented Dan from answering, which by the tightening of his mouth and the narrowing of his eyes had saved her a blasting. Sarah trudged after him, her gait awkward because of the clunky moonboot clipped around her injured foot.

Dan growled at the visitor, ‘Charlie, come in. I take it you’ve heard the news.’

‘Three times since I got home from the river.’ A dapper man in his sixties stepped into the kitchen. ‘How is Dr Livingston?’

‘I’m fine.’ Sarah made it through the kitchen door and went towards the visitor with her hand out. ‘Sarah Livingston.’

‘Charlie Drummond. I’m sorry about your accident, lass.’ Warmth emanated from his twinkling eyes.

She shrugged. ‘Bit of a nuisance but nothing I can’t deal with.’

‘It changes everything.’ Dan frowned. ‘I’ve already told the nanny I’ll need her for at least a week.’

Charlie shook his head. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. You’re on leave. That’s non-negotiable.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Charlie. There is no one else.’ Dan’s voice rose a few decibels. ‘Until Sarah’s back on her feet I’m your surgeon.’

‘I’ll ring around, see who I can find. Might don some scrubs myself.’

‘It took months to find Sarah. You haven’t got a chance in Hades of finding someone quickly, if at all.’

Sarah winced. ‘Excuse me, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’ She’d made a mess of things so she’d sort it. ‘Or my brain. I’ll be at work tomorrow.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Dan snapped.

No one talked to her like that. ‘Maybe late in the morning but I will be there. Trust me.’ Sarah braced as a glare sliced at her, but when Dan said nothing she turned to the other man. ‘I’m really sorry this has happened but it won’t affect the board’s plans too much.’

‘Sarah, get real.’ Dan dragged a hand through his damp hair, making the thick curls stand up. Cute. Mouthwatering. Totally out of bounds.

Parking her bottom against the edge of the table, Sarah repeated, ‘I’ll be at work tomorrow.’ She had to take control of the situation before Dan took over completely. ‘Is there any surgery scheduled?’

Charlie smiled. ‘It’s a public holiday, remember? You’ve got a light week, emergencies not withstanding.’

‘I’d planned on taking you in to meet any staff on duty, check out the theatre, and go over patient notes.’ Dan shook his head in despair.

‘Then there’s no problem. We’ll decide how to deal with emergencies if and when they arise.’ Dan would be the last person she’d call for help. Having caused him enough trouble already, she was unusually contrite. ‘If I have to, I can operate sitting down. It won’t be easy but it’s possible. Let’s leave tomorrow’s plans as they stand.’

And she could spend the night hoping she’d be fighting fit in the morning.

There was a speculative look in Dan’s eyes as he regarded her, his arms folded over his thought-diverting chest.

‘What?’ How would it feel to curl up with him, her head lying against that chest? Protected and comforted? Huh! The last thing Dan Reilly was was comforting.

He shrugged. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Sarah, I appreciate you coming down here at such short notice. I’m sure we can make this work until you’re fully recovered,’ Charlie said.

Dan grunted.

Sarah gripped the edge of the table tight as she sucked back a sharp retort. No need to aggravate Dan more than she already had. But hell if it wasn’t tempting.

Dan was dog-tired. Every muscle ached. His head throbbed. He’d performed urgent surgery for a punctured lung following a car-versus-tree accident at three that morning. When he’d crawled into bed afterwards Leah had been grizzly so he’d had a squirming child to keep him awake for the remainder of the night. Then the nanny had been grumpy when he’d woken her for breakfast. Throw in a near-drowning, Sarah’s arrival and accident, and he was almost comatose.

He peeped in on Leah. Lucky kid, dead to the world, unaware of the drama that had been going on and how it would affect the holiday he’d promised her.

Sarah’s assumption that she’d be able to take over tomorrow wouldn’t work, but he was fed up with arguing. Women. When they were in the mood they knew how to be difficult. It came naturally, like curves and bumps.

He sucked a breath. What was happening to him? He didn’t usually give women more than cursory glances. Truth, with most of them he wouldn’t even notice that they were female. But Sarah had woken him up in a hurry. He didn’t know how. He just knew she had. Why her, of all people? Because she was one damned desirable lady.

She was one pain in the neck.

They were opposites: syrup and vinegar.

Opposites attracted.

He shouldn’t be thinking about her except in her professional role. Not possible when they were going to be sharing such close living quarters. So how was a man to cope? How could he ignore what was right in front of him? Even with one foot strapped in that ugly moon boot she was more distracting than was good for him.

‘Daddy?’ Leah murmured in her sleep.

Gorgeous, that’s what Sarah had called his little girl, and she was right. Beautiful, innocent, and in need of a mother figure. Someone special she could call hers; not all the aunts and cousins who were there for her. Someone to call Mummy. Someone he wasn’t ready to bring into their lives.

‘Go back to sleep, little one.’ He tucked the blanket over her tiny shoulder. When she was like this he believed himself capable of being a good dad. It was the bad times when she hurt or cried that undermined his confidence. He loved how Leah trusted and loved him without question. He certainly didn’t deserve it. Not when she spent most of her time in day care or with various other people while he ran around being busy and avoiding the issues that threatened to swamp him.

‘You’re so beautiful, my girl. Just like your mother. She’d be proud of you just for being so special and funny and adorable.’ But would Celine be pleased with the way her sister and mine are bringing you up for me? More like she’d be disappointed in the way I’ve ducked for cover every time the going’s got tough. He kissed Leah’s soft cheek, his throat tightening at the feel of her soft skin. ‘I love you.’

He stood gazing down at his child, the most important person in the world, and his heart swelled to the point it hurt. He mightn’t have done much of a job of it yet but being a dad was so different from anything else he’d ever tried. Now he had to work hard to make up for lost time, learn to be there for Leah all the time. Where to start? What to do? Ask Bea and Jill. They wouldn’t hold back in telling him, or coming to his rescue. He shuddered. No, it was time to stand on his own two feet.

Back in the lounge he dropped into a large armchair and studied the other female in his house. The enigmatic one. The more he saw of Sarah, the more she piqued his curiosity. Why had she been available to come here at such short notice? He’d read her CV, knew she held a partnership in some fancy, private surgical hospital with her father and some other dude. So why’d she been available?

‘Does Leah sleep right through the night?’ Sarah spoke in her lilting voice, now tinged with exhaustion.

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