Her Brooding Italian Surgeon
Fiona Lowe
Her Brooding Italian Surgeon
Fiona Lowe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ub543399e-4ae6-5ec8-ad9f-671616f4f296)
Title Page (#u28e19b48-b33f-530d-b18a-ab0db5e39bf6)
About the Author (#u85a386ef-3ab9-5789-8071-87b3f77b5325)
Dedication (#ua011b30c-8c75-5236-b6ec-c4c874fda594)
Chapter One (#ue90b6799-faf9-5227-9e50-9114cb3765a8)
Chapter Two (#ucfaa72e5-21bf-5c38-bd94-518b4ec3a37a)
Chapter Three (#udb1c730f-52ef-57f3-839e-d8e53eaba416)
Chapter Four (#u26e79cc9-76ed-51fc-9b9b-313254a3b339)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Always an avid reader, FIONA LOWE decided to combine her love of romance with her interest in all things medical, so writing Medical
Romance was an obvious choice! She lives in a seaside town in southern Australia, where she juggles writing, reading, working and raising two gorgeous sons with the support of her own real-life hero! You can visit Fiona’s website at www.fionalowe.com
In memory of Chris; a caring neighbour who took great pleasure in sponge cakes, Mr. Lincoln Roses and thoroughly enjoyed reading Mills and Boon Romance. She’d always cross the road to tell me, ‘It’s your best one yet, dear.’
Vale, Chris.
Special thanks to Josie and Serena for their advice on all things Italian.
Chapter One
BRIGHT white lights radiated heat and sweat poured down Dr Abbie McFarlane’s forehead as she gritted her teeth in concentration. A stray strand of hair escaped from her cap but she resisted the urge to wipe her forehead on her sleeve, the sterile law of the operating theatre drilled into her long and hard over many years. Her mouth framed the word ‘sponge’ but she quickly swallowed it, stealing it back before it tripped over her lips.
Squinting, she tried again. Her nimble hands, which usually deftly and ably sewed fine stitches, seemed at a loss as they plunged yet again down into the sticky mass and stalled.
‘Dottore, do not stab it. Il pane, he needs you to be more gentle.’
Abbie sighed. ‘Maria, the dough’s just sticking to my fingers and I can’t do anything with it.’
‘You must use plenty of flour.’ Maria’s old, gnarled hands quickly scattered more flour on the workbench and expertly kneaded Abbie’s sticky mess into a stretchy and elastic dough, before pulling it into a ciabatta roll.
Abbie immediately covered it with a fresh white tea towel. ‘I think I’m a lost cause.’
The old woman grinned and shook her scarf-covered head. ‘I do this for seventy years. You come again and try.’
Abbie played her only bargaining card in this unusual doctor-patient scenario. ‘Only if you promise me you’ll rest. Your blood pressure’s a bit high and your family’s worried about you. It’s going to take the new medication a few days to start working, so you have to take it easy.’
‘Pfft. I feel fine.’ She patted her chest with her fist. ‘My heart is strong.’
Abbie frowned and injected a stern tone into her voice. ‘If you don’t rest I’ll put you in hospital.’
Maria sat down fast. ‘You sound like my grandson.’
‘He must be a wise man, then,’ Abbie quipped as she washed her hands in preparation to head back to the clinic.
The eighty-year-old nonna rolled her eyes and jabbed the air with her finger. ‘He is alone like you.’
‘Well, I hope he’s as happy as I am.’ Abbie smiled and quickly laid the hand towel over the rail. Twelve months in Bandarra and she’d quickly learned every diversion tactic in the book to avoid being introduced to all and sundry’s brothers, sons, cousins and grandsons. She’d even let the ‘gay’ rumour run wild until one patient had tried to set her up on a date with her daughter. Ironically, no one had made the connection to one of the reasons why she donated so much of her time to the women’s shelter—it was the one place no one tried to match her up with anyone. If life had taught her anything, it was that she chose the wrong man every time so staying single was the safe choice. Nothing or no one was going to change that. Ever.
Abbie picked up the keys to her four-wheel drive. ‘So, you’re going to lie down for an hour until your daughter’s back from the vineyard?’
Maria unexpectedly capitulated. ‘Yes, dottore, I will do as you say.’
‘Excellent. I’ll call by tomorrow.’
‘And I show you how to make bruschetta.’
Abbie laughed. ‘Give up now, Maria. I can’t cook.’
But the old woman just smiled.
‘Karen, cara, my angel of the operating theatre, you can’t be serious?’ Leo Costa held his overwhelming frustration in check by a bare millimetre, knowing that yelling would work once but flattery worked for ever. Ignoring the pinching of his mobile phone against his ear, he poured on the charm. ‘We organised this last week over lunch. I even filled in the paperwork as a special favour to you, so don’t break my heart and tell me it’s double-booked and I can’t have the slot.’
A tiny silence ensued before Karen spoke. ‘I guess I could ask Mr Trewellan to reschedule, seeing that we gave him an extra slot last week.’
‘I like the way you’re thinking, cara. Call me back as soon as it’s sorted.’ He snapped his phone shut without waiting for the theatre administrator’s farewell and checked his watch. Damn it, but he was late for rounds and he hated starting the day on the back foot, especially when he had a full appointment list this morning in his Collins Street rooms.
He strode towards the bank of lifts and hit the up button, tapping his foot on the polished linoleum floor of Melbourne City Hospital. He’d had scant sleep last night, having operated on a road trauma case, and it hardly seemed any time at all since he’d left the hospital, and now he was back again. There’d only been enough time to catch a three-hour nap before a quick shower and shave and a much needed shot of espresso before arriving back at work.
As the light above the lift glowed red and the heralding ‘ping’ sounded, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Hopefully, it was good news about the theatre mess. He flicked his phone open. ‘Leo Costa.’
‘Oh, thank God, you’re not scrubbed.’ The unexpected but familiar voice of one of his many sisters came down the line.
‘Anna?’ He rubbed his hand through his hair. Usually at this time of morning she was knee-deep in children, the school run and juggling calls from restaurant suppliers. ‘What’s up?’
A half sigh, half cry came down the line. ‘It’s Nonna, Leo. This time you have to come back to Bandarra.’
Abbie stifled a yawn as she swung her red dust-covered boots from her four-by-four onto the hospital car park’s sticky asphalt. The hot summer sun had finally fallen below the horizon and Venus twinkled at her as if to say, Isn’t life wonderful. But she didn’t feel twinkly today. The day had thrown everything at her, including an emergency evacuation from the Aboriginal settlement a hundred kilometres away. Now she longed to crawl out of the clothes she’d been wearing for seventeen hours, ached for a shower to wash the ingrained grit of the outback dust from her skin, and wanted nothing more than to snuggle into soft cotton sheets.
The automatic hospital doors opened and she walked into air-conditioned cool, a blissful respite from the outside summer heat that not even nightfall could cool. She paused, her ears and eyes alert, and then she smiled, letting out a long, slow breath. Calm.
Tonight, the small hospital had the air of quiet, drama-free purpose which, given her day, was exactly what she needed. She’d do a quick check on Maria, consult with the nursing staff about her other two inpatients and then head home and somehow convince Murphy, her Border collie, that he didn’t want a walk tonight.
The nursing station was empty, but the charts had been gathered for the ease of the night shift and sorted into alphabetical order. She quickly rifled through them until she found the group labelled ‘Rossi’.
‘Page her doctor again.’ A rich baritone voice, threaded with startling steel, travelled down the corridor, followed a beat later by, ‘I’d really appreciate it, Erin.’ The steel in the voice had vanished, replaced by a deep mellow sound reminiscent of a luxurious velvet cloak that wrapped enticingly around a person and caressed with beguiling softness.
Abbie knew all about velvet hiding steel. She’d grown up with it in many guises and it had chased her through a disastrous relationship. Charm so often hid threatening control.
‘Of course, Mr Costa, I’ll try again for you.’ Erin Bryant, the immensely capable no-nonsense night-duty nurse who always did things her way, had just been vanquished with Charm 101. The fact that a relative was even in the hospital at this time of night was testament to that.
Holding the multicoloured charts, Abbie grinned, knowing that for the first time today the fates had actually come down on her side. She didn’t have a Costa in hospital and Justin, her most recent locum who’d been gleefully counting down the days until he left for his cross-Asia trek back to his home town of London, would have to deal with this determined relative as one of his last obligations. Being British, he did polite much better than she did. Humming to herself, she walked down the corridor to Maria’s room, turned into the doorway and stopped dead.
A man stood just inside the door, his presence filling the room with vibrating energy that swirled and eddied like a tornado, pulling at everything and everyone in its path.
An involuntary shiver shot through Abbie, immediately chased by a foreign flicker of heat. Heat that hadn’t glowed in a very long time.
No way, not possible. But her hand instinctively tightened around the charts.
Erin’s face beamed with a high-wattage smile. ‘This is Dr McFarlane, Mr Costa, and I’ll go and get you that coffee I promised.’ Still smiling, she backed towards the door.
‘Grazie, Erin.’ His head tilted and his lips curved into a smile that travelled along black-stubble cheeks, and for a fraction of a second it lit up his eyes like the bright-white light of Venus.
Abbie took in a deep breath just as Maria’s unknown visitor turned his unrelenting gaze to her. A gaze that shot from eyes as black as the night sky but was now minus the twinkle. One bold dark brow lifted as he took in her dust-streaked shorts, her crumpled and stained polo shirt and her uncontrollable mass of chaotic curls. Judging by the expression in the depths of his onyx eyes, he found everything about her eminently lacking.
Abbie needed to lift her chin to meet his scrutiny and if he, a patient’s relative, had the temerity to openly give her the once-over, then right back at you, pal. But that was when irony socked her hard like a sucker-punch to the gut.
A strong, straight nose centred his Roman face and high cheekbones defined it as striking, but it was his well-shaped lips that told the truth – gorgeous and well aware of it. Despite the fatigue that played around his eyes and hovered near a jagged white scar on his square jaw, the man could have modelled for fashion week, although she sensed he’d have taken no nonsense and would have probably given the organisers a very hard time.
He was urban chic from his glossy indigo hair down to his Italian leather loafers. A black V-necked light cotton sweater clung to, and curved around, broad square shoulders, toned pecs and a flat stomach, boldly advertising the buff goods that nestled below. Soft and cool dune-coloured linen trousers caressed long, long legs unsullied by any hint of outback red earth or heat-induced perspiration. If she wasn’t standing in front of him breathing in his scent of mint mixed with orange, she would have dismissed him as a mythical being that no mere mortal could ever hope to emulate.
She dropped her gaze and frantically gathered her scattered thoughts, focusing on the fact that she was the doctor and he was her patient’s relative. She was therefore the one in charge. Dealing with relatives was something she prided herself on. She understood their occasional outbursts as a projection of fear and feelings of powerlessness in a foreign environment and, after all, hospitals were strange and frightening places for the general public. But absolutely nothing about this man looked uncertain or unsure, or powerless.
His firm stance of controlled casualness rippled with panther-like readiness and he spoke before Abbie could introduce herself. ‘You’re Nonna’s doctor?’ Incredulity mixed with a hint of censure rode on the words.
A shaft of determination straightened her spine. So what that she was dirty and grimy and he was ‘Mr Ultra-Clean and well-kempt from the city’; he hadn’t just spent the afternoon in the middle of nowhere keeping a young boy alive until the Flying Doctors had arrived. Given those neatly trimmed, dirtfree nails, he was probably an accountant and the closest he got to life and death was a wobbly row of figures.
It was hard to peer imperiously down her nose when he towered over her five foot two inches, so instead she extended her hand with crisp efficiency. ‘Abbie McFarlane, GP, and you would be?’
He suddenly smiled, dimples spiralling into the inky stubble as his hand gripped hers. ‘Leo Costa, Maria’s grandson.’
Unambiguous sexual electricity zapped her so hard she saw stars. She pulled her hand back fast and somehow managed a garbled, ‘Oh, right, yes, she mentioned you when I saw her yesterday’, while trying to rein her wanton body back under the tight control she’d held it in for three years. Not an easy task after being broadsided by the explosive combination of his touch and smile. A smile that should come complete with a classification warning.
She caught a glance of the sleeping Maria, which immediately centred her, and she instinctively stepped back out into the corridor. ‘Let’s not wake your grandmother.’
Like a giant cat, Leo Costa moved forward with rippling fluidity, stepping into the space she’d just vacated, his energy ramming into her, setting up more unwanted and inappropriate tingling.
‘How long have you been my grandmother’s doctor?’ The casual question, asked in a conversational tone, was at odds with the tension hovering across his shoulders and narrowing his eyes.
She thought about how long she’d actually known Maria and the time it had taken to convince her to accept an examination. ‘A few weeks–’
‘And you saw her yesterday?’ The conversational tone slipped slightly.
Abbie nodded. ‘I did. She was trying to teach me how to bake bread but–’
‘A sick woman was teaching you to bake bread at a time when you should have been admitting her to hospital.’
His words were a shot across the bow, in stark contrast to the captivating smile. Warning bells rang loud in her head. ‘I beg your pardon?’
He spoke quietly but every word reverberated like the strike against a bell. ‘If you’d admitted my grandmother to hospital yesterday and monitored her more closely, she wouldn’t have had a stroke.’
She sucked in a breath, hearing it whistle between her teeth. Stay calm. ‘Mr Costa, I understand you’re upset, as am I. Your grandmother is a very special woman but she didn’t have malignant hypertension, which is extremely high blood pressure. Although her blood pressure was elevated, based on her observations yesterday, there was no need to admit her.’
He casually crossed his arms over his chest but she caught a silver flash of steel in his black eyes. ‘You prescribed medication?’
She pursed her lips. ‘Yes, she was commenced on medication to lower her blood pressure and she was instructed to rest.’
The corner of his mouth seemed at war with the twitching muscle in his jaw but the attempted smile lost out and the charm he’d used with Erin, and half-tried with her, totally vanished. ‘And I put it to you that the medication was too strong and brought her BP down too fast, causing a focal cerebral ischemia.’
Focal cerebral ischemia? O-K. Maria’s grandson definitely wasn’t an accountant. His commanding control of the room suddenly made sense, although it struck her as odd that Maria hadn’t mentioned her grandson was a doctor. That aside, his grandmother was her patient, not his and Maria’s medical care had been textbook.
‘Mr Costa—’ she emphasised his title ‘—I’m assuming your expertise is in a branch of surgery not geriatrics.’
Dark eyes flashed before a tight smile stretched his mouth. ‘I’m a trauma surgeon at Melbourne City with a private practice of general surgery. I don’t believe you’re a geriatrician either.’
Touché. The bald statement carried power and credence and told of a man used to getting his own way. She had a pretty good idea how he usually got what he wanted—with effortless charm and good looks—and, if that failed, he used a bulldozer.
Well, she wasn’t about to be bulldozed. Not this time.
‘Your grandmother hasn’t seen a doctor in over two years and it took me a few weeks to convince her to let me examine her. I diagnosed her hypertension a few days ago. Although there’s a slight chance that perhaps the medication lowered her blood pressure too quickly, it’s far more probable that the stroke was caused by longstanding hypertension. She has a slight weakness on her right side but I’m very confident that with rehabilitation and time, it will resolve.’
‘I’m glad you’re confident.’
The disapproval in the quietly spoken words plunged deep like the cut of cold steel. She matched his black gaze. ‘I’m very confident.’
He shrugged his broad shoulders and stared down at her, his eyes filled with condescension and backlit with righteous resolve. ‘Look, I’m sure you’ve done your best but I know you’ll understand when I say I want my nonna’s care transferred to another doctor.’
I know you’ll understand. Outrage poured through Abbie and she clenched her hands by her sides to stop herself from lunging at his gorgeous but arrogant throat. Greg had used the very same words. So had her father just before he’d left. Somehow through clenched teeth she managed to speak. ‘That’s surely up to Maria.’
His head moved almost imperceptibly, the light catching his hair, the sheen so bright it dazzled. ‘Nonna usually takes my advice.’
It was a statement of fact spoken by a successful man. A man raised in the heart of a loving Italian family where education and experience were honoured and family was everything. The polar opposite of her own family.
She’d been left with no doubt that Leo Costa would advise his grandmother against her and she knew she had scant chance against the power of his recommendation, no matter how wrong she believed it to be. He had both the money and contacts to pull strings. ‘Perhaps she might surprise you.’
Unfathomable dark eyes stared at her. ‘I doubt that.’
Abbie forced herself to smile and to behave in the proper way a doctor should—putting her patient’s needs first, irrespective of her own feelings. ‘As Maria’s asleep and her health and welfare are my paramount concerns, the decision will rest until morning.’ She extended her arm towards the exit with an in-charge sweep. ‘Good night, Mr Costa.’
He gave her a slight nod of acquiescence along with a wry smile, as if he’d just glimpsed something completely unexpected. ‘Until the morning then, Abbie.’
He turned on his heel and somehow she forced her wobbly legs to hold her up until the doors opened and he was swallowed up by the night. She sank against the wall, hating the butterflies in her stomach that floated on a current of heat, trailing through her and upending every resolution she’d made three years ago.
Leo Costa with his effortless charm, devastating good looks and single-minded purpose was her worst nightmare and she was determined not to relive bad dreams. She gulped in air and her tattered resolve slowly wove itself back together. Warrior Abbie stood firm and spoke sternly. You’ll miss Maria but you don’t need him anywhere near you.
And she couldn’t argue with that.
Chapter Two
‘HAVE you lost your mind?’Anna slid a hot and frothy breakfast cappuccino towards Leo across the large wooden kitchen table.
‘It was an unwise thing for you to do.’ Rosa, his mother, quietly rebuked him as she passed a plate of fluffy light pastries and pushed two onto his plate.
Leo clung to his temper by a thread. Coming back to Bandarra always set him on edge but if he just breathed slowly, let them have their say, then he could move forward with the day doing things his way. He’d organise Nonna’s care and then catch the afternoon flight back to the sanctuary of Melbourne. Breaking open the brioche, he slathered it with home-made raspberry jam, the sweet breakfast in stark contrast to the muesli he always ate in his Melbourne apartment. But the kitchen in Bandarra was a world away from Melbourne, despite the fact there was only a six-hundred-kilo-metre distance between the two places.
Rosa carefully stirred sugar into her coffee. ‘I wish you’d come home rather than going direct from the airport to the hospital, and then all this could have been avoided.’
For the second time in twenty-four hours his usual sanguine approach slipped and his voice rose sharply. ‘This is Nonna we’re talking about! Of course I went straight to the hospital, especially as I’d had both you and Anna sobbing on the phone, not to mention Bianca and Chiara’s texts.’
His gut clenched as a ripple of fear spread its dread again, just as it had last night when he’d stood at the end of the narrow hospital bed watching his amazing Nonna, always such a powerhouse of energy, looking so frail and tiny under crisp white sheets. He hated that feeling, that powerlessness and the way it dragged him back into the past. Back to the waterhole, back to failing Dom so badly. He abruptly rubbed his chin. ‘I wasn’t leaving until I’d spoken with her doctor, which is what I thought you wanted.’
His mother threw him a rueful smile. ‘Considering how stubborn Nonna can be, Abbie McFarlane’s been a saint. I told her how worried I was about your grandmother and she put up with all of Nonna’s tricks and made home visits until Nonna finally let her examine her.’
Anna laughed. ‘True, but not even Nonna has been able to teach Abbie to cook—she’s hopeless.’
Leo frowned against the recurring and unwanted image of tangled and tumbling cinnamon-sprinkled caramel curls framing rainforest-green eyes. Eyes that hadn’t flickered with the keen appreciation he was used to seeing when he met women’s gazes. The vision had interrupted his sleep and increased his irritation. Women like Abbie McFarlane never got picked up by his radar, let alone landed a starring role in his dreams. With the exception of his ill-conceived marriage, where he’d been faithful to Christina, he’d always had his pick of women, and all his choices came with statuesque height, haute couture and heavenly features.
Name one that has really interested you in the last year.
Not wanting to go there, he pulled his mind back to the conversation. ‘Well, I don’t care about her cooking, or the fact she doesn’t even look like a doctor. I wasn’t impressed by her medicine.’
Anna raised both of her neatly shaped brows, taking in his crisp outfit of navy knee-length shorts teamed with a shortsleeved chambray shirt. ‘Big brother, you’ve turned into a big city fashion snob. Abbie might dress like a female version of a crocodile hunter but her medicine’s spot on. She’s done more for this community in twelve months than old Doctor Renton did in his twelve years.’
Annoyance fizzed in his veins. ‘That isn’t saying much then, is it?’
His father, Stefano, who’d been silent behind the most recent edition of Vintners’ Monthly, lowered the magazine. Wise molasses-coloured eyes stared back at Leo from behind rimless lenses. ‘Your mistake is you’ve forgotten Bandarra isn’t Melbourne and the choice of doctors here is seriously limited.’
Rosa sighed. ‘Your nonna’s getting old, figlio mio.’
No. He wanted to put his hands over his ears like he’d done as a little child when he didn’t want to hear. Right now he didn’t want to hear or think about Nonna and death. Nonna was such a special part of his life. She featured in every childhood memory—always there giving hugs while his parents had been busy establishing the vineyard, clipping him around the ear when he got too cheeky and always feeding him like he was a king.
Holding him so tightly after the accident.
Right then his exasperation with his family peaked. Enough! He’d let everyone have their say and now it was his turn. ‘I’m the qualified medical practitioner in this conversation and I’ve made a decision which I intend to follow through on.’ He pushed back his chair, the red-gum scraping loud against the polished boards.
‘You go and be the doctor but Nonna doesn’t just need that.’ Stefano rose to his feet and his quiet but determined voice stalled Leo’s departure. ‘Most of all she needs you to be a grandson and to give of your time. In fact, all of your family needs your time.’
Leo’s throat tightened and every part of him tensed, all primed and ready to flee. For years he’d flown in and flown out of Bandarra, only ever staying forty-eight hours, often less. ‘Papà, I can’t. Work is busy.’
‘Work is always busy.’His father downed the last of his coffee. ‘You managed to arrange things so you could be here for Nonna. I’m certain you can arrange to stay longer if you choose. You haven’t been home for a vintage since you were eighteen and we’ve never asked you to come, but you’re here now. This time you need to stay for Nonna, your mother and the rest of us.’ His hand settled on Rosa’s shoulder and he gave her a gentle squeeze.
Leo’s breath stuck in his chest as he tried to think of a way out, a way to avoid having to stay. Excuses rose to his lips but his father’s implacable stance and knowing expression silenced them. His father would see them for what they were—excuses. The ties of family tightened around him, pulling him back to a place he didn’t want to be.
Anna winked at him. ‘Come on, big brother, stay a while. It’ll be just like the old days, lots of fun.’
But fun was the last thing a holiday in Bandarra could ever be.
Bubbling frustration tinged with fury ate at Leo as he shifted in the car seat, unable to get comfortable. Bandarra Car Rentals didn’t run to a Ferrari Spider and he was stuck in a small car which wasn’t designed for men who were five foot six, let alone six foot one.
Although not even nine a.m., heat poured through the untinted windows, declaring that the day would be a scorcher. He pulled on his aviator sunglasses and slammed down the visor. His father hadn’t pulled rank like that in seventeen years. On top of that, he couldn’t get over his family’s attitude towards Nonna’s medical care. Didn’t they want the best for her?
Perhaps she already has the best with Abbie McFarlane.
No, he couldn’t believe that. The woman had disaster written all over her, from the rent in her khaki trousers to the burnt-red ochre smear on her freckle-dusted cheeks. Smooth, soft cheeks. He shook away the image and focused on his concerns. She looked about twenty-one, although he knew she had to be older than that, but still, she had the chaotic look of someone who could hardly look after herself, let alone patients. Nonna needed someone with solid experience—years and years of experience. Not someone with the bare basics of a couple of intern years, who still held a textbook in one hand and a prayer in the other.
It was well known that the further a person lived from a major capital city the more their health was compromised by their lack of access to state-of-the-art health care. That was a given in Bandarra, but at least it still had a small hospital which meant it attracted more doctors than other outback towns. He intended to talk to the senior practice partner—that was the doctor who should be looking after Nonna, not the trainee GP.
Vineyards and orchards flashed past as he headed into town, the rich red loamy river soil contrasting intensely with the grape-green foliage of the ‘close-to-harvest’ vines. The familiar clutch of unease tightened another notch and his chest hurt the way it always did when he found himself back under Bandarra’s endless outback sky. His fingers whitened as he gripped the steering wheel overly hard and he concentrated on forcing away the demons that threatened to suffocate him. Pulling hard left, he deliberately avoided the river road, taking a longer route, a route that he could navigate with his eyes closed despite the fact he’d lived in Melbourne a very long time. Avoiding the river was the only way he was going to survive three to four weeks in Bandarra.
Visitors to the district were always amazed at how the pioneers had harnessed the power of the great Murray River and turned what should have been an arid and harsh land into the luxuriant and premier fruit basket of Australia. But back then the river had run with a lot more water and the current irrigators now faced a new set of problems that the pioneers had probably never envisaged.
Ten minutes later, Leo walked into the hospital and caught sight of the broad back of a male standing at the nurses’ station. He was wearing a white coat. Leo smiled—now that was more like it.
‘Excuse me.’
The doctor raised his head from the chart and turned his shirt-and-tie-covered torso towards him. ‘May I help you?’
The English accent surprised Leo but this doctor had a gravitas that Abbie McFarlane lacked, despite the Star Trek tie. He extended his hand. ‘Leo Costa, surgeon. Are you the Senior Medical Officer?’
‘No, but I’d be happy to introduce you.’ He shot out his hand. ‘Justin Willoughby. It’s brilliant that you’re going to be working here.’
‘No!’ Hell would freeze over before he’d work in Bandarra.
Justin started with surprise at his emphatic tone and Leo sucked in a calming breath. In Melbourne he was known for high standards but with an easy-going approach. He wouldn’t let a short time in Bandarra steal that from him. ‘Sorry, what I meant to say is, I’m Maria Rossi’s grandson and I’m just up here for a few weeks until things are sorted out with my grandmother. Then it’s straight back to Melbourne.’
‘Ah.’ Justin nodded but his expression remained disappointed. ‘Pity. Bandarra could do with a visiting surgeon. The SMO’s caught up in ED. This way.’ He inclined his head and started walking down the corridor.
Leo fell into step with Justin and followed him through double perspex doors into a compact emergency department. Screens were drawn around cubicles and a pretty nurse walked towards them.
‘Where’s the boss, Lisa?’ Justin asked.
‘Not far away.’
‘Leo, you stay here and I’ll bring the boss to you. Back in a mo.’
Justin disappeared, leaving Leo with the nurse, who gave him a none too subtle look of curiosity which finished with smouldering interest. ‘Hello. New to Bandarra?’
‘I grew up here.’The words came out stark and brusque and he immediately forced himself to return her friendly look with a flash of his trademark smile. A smile he used many times a day without even thinking because it was never wise to burn bridges. His smile had gained him all sorts of things and had got him out of a few nasty situations. Except for yesterday.
Yesterday had been an aberration. His cool had slipped slightly with Abbie McFarlane and he’d chalked it up to his shock about Nonna and being back in a town he tried very hard to avoid. But everyone made mistakes and thankfully no real harm had been done.
‘Were you a blockie?’ Lisa used the local term to describe people who grew fruit on land with irrigation rights.
‘My grandfather was.’
‘Oh, are you related to the Italians out by Wadjera billabong?’
The name plunged into Leo like a knife to the heart and he stiffened. Thankfully, Justin’s return ended the conversation.
‘Leo, I’d like to introduce you to our SMO.’
Leo turned with a welcoming smile on his face. A pair of questioning moss-green eyes hit him with a clear and uncompromising gaze. Eyes that slanted seductively at the corners. A burst of unexpected heat fired low in his belly, disconcerting him for a second before reality crashed in, wiping out all other feeling. Our SMO. Damn it, how could she possibly be the senior doctor?
You’ve forgotten Bandarra isn’t Melbourne. His father’s voice rang loud in his head and the full ramifications of what he’d done last night hit him like a king punch. He’d let the Bandarra demons get to him and had made an ill-judged call.
He pulled himself together and, with aching cheeks, smiled. ‘Abbie.’
Her mouth flattened. ‘Leo.’
A startled expression crossed Justin’s face. ‘So you two have met before?’
‘We met last night.’ Abbie tugged at the edges of a clean starched white coat which covered a plain round-neck T-shirt and a straight no-frills navy skirt. The hiking boots had been replaced by flat utilitarian sandals of nondescript brown.
Not a trace of make-up touched her face but, despite that, her lips had a luminous sheen that pulled Leo’s gaze and held it fast. What the hell was wrong with him? But he didn’t have time to second-guess his reaction—the moment had come for damage control. He forced a self-deprecating quirk to his lips and gave a European shrug of his shoulders. ‘I didn’t realise Abbie was the SMO. A major error on my part.’
Justin laughed, giving his boss a cheeky grin. ‘Poor Abs, if you were a bloke you could grow a beard to look older.’ He winked at Leo. ‘She might forgive you in time.’
Going by the implacable set of her face and the tight pull of skin over her cheekbones, Leo wasn’t so sure. Still, that didn’t matter because he’d pull in a favour and ask the doctor from Naroopna to take over. ‘May we speak in private?’
She matched his shrug and rolled her hands palm up. ‘Is there anything left to say? You made your position quite clear last night.’ Turning on her heel, she headed towards the perspex doors and thumped them open.
Ignoring the intrigued looks of the other staff, he walked with her. ‘I do have something to say.’
‘You surprise me.’ Her sarcasm radiated from her like heat haze. She unexpectedly turned left into an empty ward and then spun back, crossing her arms hard against her chest, pushing her breasts upward. ‘Look, Leo, I don’t have time for this; I have patients waiting. Are you flying in a private doctor or transferring Maria to Mildura or Melbourne?’
He found it hard to resist sneaking a look at her surprising cleavage. ‘Neither one of those options is my choice.’ No matter how persuasive he knew he could be, there was no way he’d be able to convince Nonna to leave Bandarra. She’d lived here since arriving as a bride from Italy back in the fifties. Perhaps there’d been times in the past when she might have toyed with the idea of leaving but, since the accident, she’d refused even visits to Melbourne. She wouldn’t leave Dominico. Leo alone had been the one to run.
He rubbed his chin and hauled his thoughts back to the here and now. ‘You can hand over her care to David Martin.’
A deep V formed at the bridge of her nose. ‘So you’re transferring her to Adelaide?’
What? ‘No, she’s staying here.’ He tilted his head slightly and met her gaze. ‘Abbie.’ He paused for the briefest moment, the beat lending credence to his upcoming words. ‘Thank you for your care. This isn’t personal; it’s just that David’s experience is what Nonna needs.’
For the first time since he’d met her, a smile pulled her generous mouth upwards. It danced along her cheeks and into her eyes, making them sparkle like the rainforest after rain. And then she laughed. A laugh tinged with incredulity and yet grounded with a known truth, as if she’d heard a similar story before. As if she saw straight through him.
A flicker of unease stirred his normally unshakeable confidence.
‘It’s been a while since you last visited Bandarra, hasn’t it?’
And, just like that, he felt the power shift. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘David Martin moved to Adelaide ten months ago and the practice at Naroopna is vacant. As is the one at Budjerree. Right now, Bandarra is the only township within two hundred kilometres with medical staff. Come Wednesday, when Justin leaves, it’s just me and the nursing staff.’
His breakfast turned to stone in his gut. All he’d wanted was the best for Nonna. Instead, he’d let fatigue and fear of the past interfere with his usual clear-thinking and now he’d backed himself into a corner.
The urgent bleep of her pager suddenly blared between them and she checked the liquid display. Without a word, she sprinted past him and out of the room, leaving behind only a lingering and delectable scent of strawberries and liquorice.
He hated that he instinctively took in a deeper breath.
Abbie raced into a chaotic ED, shedding all of her disconcerting and unsuitable thoughts about the infuriating and ridiculously gorgeous Leo Costa. There should be a law against men being that handsome, and a statute that stopped her even noticing. The piercing siren of an ambulance screamed in the distance, instantly focusing her with its howling volume that increased with every moment. An intense sound that never brought good news.
People were everywhere. Two teenagers sat pale and silent holding each other’s hands, an elderly man supported a woman to a chair and a young woman clutching a baby called out, ‘Help me,’ and still people poured through the doors, many bloodied and hurt.
Lisa and Jason were murmuring platitudes mixed in with firm instructions as they tried to examine a hysterical woman with blood streaming down her face. Her shrieks of anguish bounced off the walls, telling a story of terror and pain.
The area looked like a war zone. ‘What’s happened and why haven’t emergency services notified us?’
Justin grimaced. ‘Apparently a bus hit a truck. Those who could, walked here.’
Triage. Years of training swung into action. ‘Lisa, you’re on walking wounded. Get a nurse from the floor to help you stat, and get someone to ring all the nursing staff and tell them to come in. I want a list of all names and all injuries. Prioritise, treat and be aware of anyone who blacked out. Any concerns, consult me or Jason.’
‘Will do.’ The experienced nurse headed to the chairs as Abbie grabbed the emergency radio.
‘Bandarra Base Hospital to Bandarra Police, over.’
Daniel Ruston’s voice crackled down the line. ‘Abbie, a bus and a truck collided. The paramedics are on their way with the first of the seriously injured passengers. It’s not pretty.’
‘How many are there?’
‘Two at least, probably more.’
‘Thanks, over and out.’ She headed straight into the resuss room, which was technically always set up ready for any emergency but she always liked to double-check. She glanced at the brand-new Virtual Trauma and Critical Care Service – a video conferencing screen on wheels. With its camera that used superfast broadband technology to transfer images from the country to the city, GPs in small towns could teleconference with specialists if need be. It was an extra medical lifeline in the tyranny of distance. Everything was ready. She didn’t have to wait long.
The paramedics barrelled through the doors, their stretchers bringing in two patients, both wearing oxygen masks. Paul, the senior paramedic, his face grim, started talking. ‘First patient is Jenny, a thirty-year-old woman, conscious with pneumothorax and suspected abdominal internal injuries. Chest tube and IV inserted in the field but BP continuing to drop. Second patient is Emma, a seventeen-year-old female with suspected spinal injuries, currently on spinal board and immobilised with a collar. Complaining of not feeling legs. IV inserted in the field and observations stable.’
Abbie bit her lip. ‘What else is coming?’
Paul looked sombre. ‘There’s a forty-five-year-old male with a fractured pelvis and multiple lacerations, and a sixty-year-old woman whose leg has gone into the wall of the bus. Jaws of life are on hand.’
Adrenaline poured through her, making her shake. She had at least four seriously ill patients, a minimum of thirty walking wounded and only four staff until the other nurses arrived. The ratio of staff to patients totally sucked.
‘It hurts.’ Jenny’s muffled sob came from behind the oxygen mask.
Abbie put her hand reassuringly on the woman’s shoulder as the trolley was wheeled into the resuss room. ‘I’m Abbie McFarlane and I’ll give you something for pain as soon as I’ve examined you.’
Justin appeared. ‘Lisa’s got it under control out there and I’ve given the hysterical woman a sedative and will stitch her forehead later. If you’re right here, I’ll examine the other stretcher patient.’
‘Great. Thanks.’ Abbie wrapped the automatic blood pressure cuff around Jenny’s arm and attached the electrodes to the ECG dots that the paramedics had applied. The reassuring beat of a regular heart rate traced across the screen.
The blood pressure machine beeped. Eighty on fifty.
Not good. ‘I just have to feel your tummy, Jenny.’
‘Will it hurt?’ Fear lit the woman’s eyes.
‘It might.’ Abbie gently palpated the woman’s abdomen and her fingers met a rigid and guarded upper left quadrant.
Jenny flinched. ‘Do you have to do that?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She’s bleeding somewhere.
‘What do you need? Catheter, plasma expander, abdominal ultrasound?’ Erin walked into the room, lack-of-sleep-induced black smudges under her eyes but as competent as ever.
‘All of the above, Erin.’ And more.
Despite what Leo Costa thought of her, Abbie knew her medicine, knew her strengths and was well aware of her short comings. She was a bloody good GP but she wasn’t a surgeon.
A patient with internal bleeding needed a surgeon.
She glanced hopefully at the Virtual Trauma and Critical Care Service but knew in her heart that this time a ‘virtual’ surgeon wasn’t going to meet her needs. She needed a real live hands-on surgeon and she had one down the hall.
One who thought she was incompetent. One she wanted to avoid at all costs, not work with side by side. But her breath shuddered out of her lungs, the sound telling. No matter how much she wanted to avoid the charismatic and opinionated Leo Costa, patients’ needs and lives came first.
The BP machine screamed incessantly, telling its undeniable message in no uncertain terms. Jenny was bleeding into her abdominal cavity. It was just a matter of time before she had more blood there than in her arteries.
She grabbed the plasma expander and plunged the sharp tip of the IV into it, piercing the seal, and then hung the bag onto the hook, opening the flow to full bore. Her choice was no choice at all. Jenny needed surgery and Abbie had to ask for help.
‘Erin, find Leo Costa and get him in here. Now!’
Chapter Three
ABBIE had just finished catheterising Jenny when Leo strode into the room, instantly filling it with vibrating energy and command.
‘You want me?’
His onyx eyes held hers with a hypnotic gaze and a sharp pang akin to hunger shook her so hard her fingers almost dropped the forceps. It had been years since she’d experienced anything like it. She cleared her throat, finding her in-charge voice. ‘Jenny sustained a blunt trauma to the abdomen, is haemodynamically unstable and transfer to Melbourne at this point is risky. She needs a surgeon.’ She pulled the ultrasound machine in close and turned it on, handing the transducer to him as Erin returned with a set of charts.
Leo put his hand gently on the terrified patient’s arm and, using the velvet tone she’d heard him use with everyone except herself, he reassured their patient.
‘Jenny, I’m Leo Costa and I’m a surgeon. Dr McFarlane’s pretty concerned about you so I’m just going to see what’s going on using the ultrasound.’
‘OK.’ Jenny gazed up at Leo as if he’d mesmerised her and all the resistance she’d used with Abbie melted away.
Abbie’s jaw clenched as memories of her father and Greg swamped her but she reminded herself it didn’t matter a jot if Leo Costa charmed every woman he ever met as long as he saved Jenny in a professional manner.
‘It will feel cold.’ He squirted the gel onto her abdomen and gently moved it across her distended belly. Black and white flickered on the screen until the image came into focus. He let out a low grunt. ‘Good catch.’
Abbie followed the trace of his finger against the screen, making out the black mass that was darker than intact liver and splenic tissue. It was everywhere – between the left kidney and the spleen, behind the spleen and ultimately pooling in the pelvis, the blood having travelled via the paracolic gutter. Her diagnosis was correct, not that it made her feel at all happy because Jenny wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Leo wiped the transducer and stowed it in its holder on the machine and returned his undivided attention to the patient. ‘Jenny, I’m fairly certain the impact of the accident has ruptured your spleen and I’m going to have to operate.’
The already pale woman blanched even more, a tremble of fear on her lips. ‘You’re good at this, aren’t you?’
Leo grinned, his smile streaking across his clean-shaven cheeks. ‘Jenny, I’m more than good; I’m one of the best.’ Then, as impossible as it was to imagine, his voice suddenly dropped even deeper, its timbre completely sincere. ‘Most importantly for you, I’ve done this operation many times in Melbourne. Erin’s going to get you ready for Theatre and I’ll see you there very soon.’
Abbie knew at that moment if she’d been the patient she would have followed him to the ends of the earth. Thank goodness she wasn’t. She was a wise and experienced woman and she didn’t follow any man anywhere. Not any more.
Leo tilted his head towards the door, code for, We need to talk, and then strode towards it. Abbie followed him out into the corridor.
Without preliminaries, he cut to the chase. ‘Can you anaesthetise?’
She nodded. ‘I can and Erin can assist but that’s all the staff I can spare because Justin and the nursing staff are needed down here.’
‘Abbie—’ Justin hurried towards them ‘—I’m evacuating the spinal injury to Melbourne by air ambulance.’
‘What about the elderly woman?’
‘She hasn’t arrived yet; they’re still trying to get her out but Paul’s worried about a crush injury and possible risk of amputation.’
Abbie groaned. ‘Man, I wish I could clone us. We’ve still got the fractured pelvis to assess. Get the paramedics to help you when they bring in the next two patients and—’
‘Abbie.’ Her name came out on a low growl as Leo slid his arm under her elbow in an attempt to propel her forward. ‘We need to get to Theatre now.’
His urgency roared through her, along with a tremor of something else she refused to name. ‘Justin if you—’
‘He’ll ring us in Theatre if he needs to consult. Come on.’ Leo marched her back into the resuss room. ‘Erin, cara, let’s move.’ He started to push the trolley through the door.
Then he swung back to Abbie, his well-shaped lips twitching with an unexpected smile tinged with cheeky humour as if he’d just realised something funny. ‘Er…Abbie, exactly where is the operating theatre?’
Her already adrenaline-induced limbs liquefied. She could resist his getting my own way smile, knowing it was manufactured, but this smile was vastly different—it was one hundred per cent genuine and completely devastating. Somehow she forced her boneless legs to start moving. ‘This way; follow me.’
‘It’s a mess in here.’ Dealing with the pulped spleen made Leo frown in concentration as he carefully separated it from its anchoring ligaments. Every part of him operated on highalert, not just because all emergency surgery meant the unknown but because added into this combination was working with today’s less experienced staff. Still, he couldn’t fault either of them. Abbie McFarlane had run the emergency as well as any of his veteran colleagues in Melbourne and right now she was coping with a tricky anaesthetic and acting as scout.
‘Suction please, Erin.’ The amount of blood in the field had him extremely worried. ‘Abbie, how’s her pressure?’
Remarkably calm green eyes peered from behind a surgical mask. ‘Holding, but only just. I’ll be happier when you’ve zapped the sucker.’
He grimaced behind his mask. ‘You and me both.’ He moved the probe into position and, using his foot, activated the diathermy. The zap sounded loud in the relatively quiet theatre, in stark contrast to Melbourne City where his favourite music was always piped in.
Erin’s hand hovered, holding the suction over the clean site, and he counted slowly. By the time he got to four, blood bubbled up again, filling the space. ‘Damn it.’ He packed in more gauze.
‘Pressure’s still dropping.’ A fray in Abbie’s calm unravelled in her voice. ‘She’s lost three litres of blood and this is our last packed cell until the helicopter arrives.’
‘It will be OK.’ He said it as much for himself as to reassure Abbie and Erin. Closing out the sound of the beeping machines, he carefully examined the entire operation site millimetre by millimetre, looking for the culprit.
‘O2 sats are dropping.’ Stark urgency rang in Abbie’s voice.
The gurgling sound of the suction roared around him as Jenny’s life-force squirted into the large bottle under the operating table almost as fast as Abbie could pump it in. A flash of memory suddenly exploded in his head. Him. Raised voices. Christina’s screams. Dom. Life ebbing away.
His heart raced and he dragged in a steadying breath. He hadn’t known how to save Dom and he’d failed Christina but he was saving this woman.
Look harder. He caught a glimpse of something and immediately fritzed it with the diathermy. Still the blood gurgled back at him. He held out his hand. ‘Four-zero.’
‘She’s about one minute away from arresting.’Abbie hung up the last unit of blood, her forehead creased in anxiety.
‘I’m on it.’ Sending all his concentration down his fingers, he carefully looped the silk around the bleeding vessel and made a tie. Then he counted.
This time the site stayed miraculously clear. His chest relaxed, releasing the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.
‘Pressure’s rising, O2 sats are rising.’ Relief poured through Abbie’s voice as she raised her no-nonsense gaze to his. ‘You had me worried.’
Despite her words, he caught a fleeting glimpse of approbation in the shimmering depths of green. ‘Hey, I’m Italian—we always go for the big dramatic finish.’
Abbie blinked, her long brown lashes touching the top of her mask, and then she laughed. A full-bodied, joyous laugh that rippled through her, lighting up her eyes, dancing across her forehead and jostling the stray curl that had sneaked out from under her unflattering theatre cap.
And you thought she was plain? He frowned at the unwelcome question as he started to close the muscle layers.
Abbie administered pethidine for pain relief through a pump. ‘Well, we Anglo-Saxons prefer the quiet life.’
‘Speak for yourself. I’m not averse to a bit of drama and flair. It makes life interesting.’ Erin fluttered her pretty lashes at him over her surgical mask, an open sign of if you’re interested, then I’m definitely in.
The day his divorce had been finalised fifteen years ago, he’d committed to dating beautiful women and dating often—a strategy that served him well. He loved women and enjoyed their company—he just didn’t want to commit to one woman. The emotional fallout of his marriage had put paid to that. Now he focused on work, saving lives and enjoying himself. It was a good plan because it left him very little time to think about anything else.
Usually when he was given such an open invitation as the attractive Erin had just bestowed, he smiled, called her cara mia, took her out to dinner and then spent a fun few weeks before the next pretty nurse caught his eye or he caught the glimpse of marriage and babies in her eyes.
But recently that game had got tired.
The theatre phone rang and Abbie took the call. ‘Leo, Justin wants an opinion on the crushed leg so a decision can be made to either evacuate or operate first.’
‘Tell him I’m five minutes away.’
When Abbie finished the call he continued. ‘Whether I should operate or not might be semantics. Evacuation might be the only option due to staffing issues.’
Her shoulders squared, pulling her baggy scrubs across her chest and she rose on her toes. ‘If the patient requires surgery before evacuation then Bandarra Base will make it possible. You worry about the surgery and let me worry about the staffing issue; that’s my job.’
Her professionalism eddied around him—her sound medical judgement, the composed and ordered way she’d run the entire emergency and the undeniable fact she’d stayed calm and focused even when she’d been pushed way out of her comfort zone by the emergency anaesthetic.
The fact she put her patient’s needs first and asked you for help, despite how you treated her.
A streak of shame assailed him. Abbie McFarlane was a damn good doctor. How the hell had he missed that last night?
Abbie’s legs ached with heaviness as she sank onto the saggy couch in the staff lounge. She slipped off her shoes and swung her legs upwards, breaking the rule of no feet on the coffee table. Today had been one hell of a day but, despite her fatigue, a glow of pride warmed her. Bandarra Base had coped with a full-on emergency and, although two of their patients were in a critical and serious condition, the fact they were still alive lay at the feet of her team.
And Leo Costa. The opinionated, charismatic and brilliant surgeon.
Last night she’d wanted to hate him, this morning she’d just wanted him to go as far away from her as possible but obviously that was far too simple a request. If the fates knew in advance she would need a surgeon today, why couldn’t they have sent along a ‘nice guy’, a competent surgeon or, better yet, a female surgeon?
But no, they were enjoying a joke at her expense and had dispatched her worst nightmare. A man with magnetic allure, the kind of man she’d learned was toxic to her. A couple of short relationships at uni had made her consider perhaps she lacked judgement in her choice of men but it had been Greg who’d really rammed home the message. With charm and good looks, he’d drawn her into his enticing web and then trapped her. Now she knew to her very core that letting a man in her life was like taking a razor blade to her wrist—an act of self-harm.
So why, knowing all of that, did it only take one look from those dark, dark eyes to set off a rampaging trail of undeniable lust inside her, sending her pulse racing and battering every single one of Greg’s painful lessons about charismatic men? Battering her belief that the only way to be safe was to live a single life. A belief she hadn’t questioned once in three years.
She bit her lip hard against the delicious sensations and loathed her own weakness. But, despite how she felt about her reaction to him, she couldn’t deny Leo was the prize piece in today’s emergency. Without him, Jenny and the elderly woman would have been immediately airlifted to Melbourne and there would have been a strong chance both of them could have died in transit. Leo had saved Jenny and given Mavis a fighting chance.
Fatigue pummelled her sitting body and Abbie fought hard to resist closing her eyes. She’d already sent Justin home and she only had to stay awake a little bit longer, do one more round and then, fingers crossed, she could go home too. The squeak of the lounge door interrupted her thoughts and, immediately on alert that a patient had deteriorated, she glanced up, expecting to see the night-nurse.
It wasn’t the night-nurse. An intoxicating shimmer raced through her from the tip of her toes to the top of her scalp, leaving her breathless. Had she been blind and not able to recognise the strong brown hand that gripped the edge of the door, she would have known instantly it was Leo from the fresh mint and citrus scent that preceded him. How could a man smell so good after such a long day? ‘I thought you’d gone home?’
‘I spent some time with Nonna and for the last hour I’ve been caught up with journalists. Today’s crash made it all over the news and it seems that no one could find you.’ He shot her a questioning look and then walked straight to the instant hot-water heater unit and made two mugs of tea.
She shrugged, not caring that she’d left him with the press because she was pretty certain it was far more his thing than hers. ‘Your patients were evacuated to Melbourne so I figured you had the time and I was still tied up with patients.’
‘Well, you owe me because I’ve done print, radio and television interviews and I’m “mediaed” out.’
The soothing aroma of camomile wafted towards her and, for the first time since she’d walked into work hours ago, she relaxed. ‘You’ll look good on TV.’ The words rolled out of her mouth before her exhausted brain could censor them and she gasped, wanting to grab them back.
Have you lost your mind? Warrior Abbie held her shield high over her heart, her expression incredulous.
Leo grinned—a smile full of the knowledge that not only did he know he’d look bloody fantastic on TV, he’d also heard her gaffe. A gaffe a man like Leo Costa would read as an open invitation. He stared her down. ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed.’
Establish distance. From the moment she’d met him she’d been cool and it was time to dig deep and find her Zen so she could cope with him and keep herself safe. She tossed her head, hating the way her curls tangled into her eyes, ruining the attempted nonchalant look. ‘Let me put it this way. I noticed, and perhaps even enjoyed noticing, but not even your glossy magazine good-looks quite make up for the disrespect you showed me last night.’
She expected a tremor of anger or at the very least repressed indignation but instead he walked over to her and extended his hand.
‘Hello, I’m Leo Costa, general surgeon and grandson of Maria Rossi. Pleased to meet you.’
She frowned as she swung her legs off the table and slowly raised her hand to his, all the time wondering what was actually going on. ‘Abbie McFarlane.’
His firm grip wrapped around hers, underpinned with a gentle softness that had peril written all over it. ‘I hear you’re the doctor who’s been looking after my grandmother and you’ve had a few problems with one of the relatives?’
She studied his face, trying to read beyond the charm and the pretend first greeting. ‘He hit ten on the difficult scale.’
His eyes widened fractionally but he didn’t disagree as he sat down on the coffee table, directly opposite her. ‘Looking back, I think he let fear for his grandmother interfere with his medical judgement.’
She hadn’t expected that answer—the man had just verbalised his dread and that wasn’t something charismatic men usually did. ‘I can understand the fright.’
‘Well, it caught me by complete surprise. Nonna’s always been so fit and well and…’ He puffed out a short breath before giving a wry and apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry for what I said; I was out of line. If it makes you feel any better, my family berated me at breakfast.’
Breakfast? The word clanged in her head like a fire bell. ‘Hang on; you were still insisting at nine a.m. that Maria be cared for by someone else.’
His shoulders rose as his head tilted slightly like a kid who’d been presented with the prosecuting evidence of an empty biscuit barrel. ‘Stubbornness is one of my less fortunate attributes.’
Her lips twitched. ‘One? So there are more?’
He captured her gaze, his eyes twinkling. ‘All I will confess to is that I’m not planning on being difficult about this again. Nonna’s lucky to have you; indeed Bandarra’s fortunate to have a GP of your calibre, Abbie.’
She saw the captivating smile, heard the warm praise, but the bells still pealed loud in her head. ‘So what you’re really saying is I’m still Maria’s doctor because you’ve realised there’s no one else.’
‘No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.’ Dismay extinguished the twinkle in his eyes and for the second time today she glimpsed a hint of the real man behind the smooth façade. ‘I admit to making a snap judgement last night and I’ve apologised for that.’
The tic in his jaw said apologies were not something he did very often. ‘But I worked alongside you today and there’s no doubt you know your medicine.’
The sincerity in his voice finally satisfied her. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He moved back to the bench and carried over the tea before sitting down next to her. His firm lips curved upwards into a conspiratorial smile full of shared experiences. ‘It was one hell of a day, wasn’t it?’
His words matched her thoughts, which totally unnerved her. First there’d been the unexpected apology and now he appeared to want to sit and chat. That alone was enough to cope with, but added on top was his scent and aura swirling around her like an incoming tide, creating rafts of delicious sensation tickling along her veins.
He shifted his weight and the couch moved, tilting her closer to him. Silver spots danced in her head. No, no, no. It took every exhausted molecule to force herself to stay upright and not give in to his magnetic pull—the one that called for her to lean against his arm and lay her head on his broad shoulder. But she knew only too well that men like Leo Costa were like the foxglove plant. Pretty to look at but potentially life-threatening, and the last thing her heart needed again was life-support.
She sipped her tea, trying hard to ignore the delicious tingling on her skin and the fluttering in her stomach that sitting so close to him had activated. Warrior Abbie raised her sword across the shield. She could do this. She could sit here for a few minutes and make polite conversation because, come midnight, Leo Costa would leave her hospital. The emergency was over and they’d resolved the issue of Maria’s care. She couldn’t imagine him staying in Bandarra very long before Melbourne called him home, and with his departure the status quo of Bandarra Base and her much-coveted quiet life would be restored. Yes, everything would return to normal. She smiled and breathed out a long, slow, satisfying breath.
Leo sipped his tea, watching Abbie holding her cup close to her chest as if it were some sort of protective guard. An unusual cosy feeling of well-being floated through him—something he never experienced when he was in Bandarra. Could an apology really have that effect? Apparently so. He’d always prided himself on being fair and he hadn’t given Abbie the same consideration. He let the odd feeling settle over him. Today had been incredible. Not just the excitement of the ‘seat-of-your-pants’ surgery but working alongside Abbie. She had an air of self-containment that intrigued him. Those eyes intrigued him.
She stared at her shapely ankles, which rested again on the coffee table, and sighed. ‘I could live without the todays of this world. We were lucky to have your expertise. Thanks.’
He was used to gushing praise but the plain appreciation had an unambiguous authenticity which he appreciated. ‘I’m just glad I was here. These days I mostly do elective surgery, although I’m on the trauma roster at Melbourne City. Thankfully, I’m not always needed.’
She turned her head to look at him and understanding wove across her face, joining her cute sun-kissed freckles. ‘But there’s nothing quite like the buzz of a good save.’
He grinned. ‘Yeah, but you can’t actually go around wishing accidents on people or saying stuff like that or you sound macabre.’
She chuckled. ‘You’re a surgeon; it’s a given.’
He tried to look affronted but instead he joined in with her tinkling laughter. Abbie McFarlane had a straight-shooting delivery style that was as refreshing as it was unusual. He realised with a thud that apart from his immediate family, not many people spoke their mind to him any more.
She returned her gaze to her feet and he fought the urge to caress her jaw with his fingers and tilt her head back towards him so he could look into her eyes. He wanted to dive into those eyes which had stared back at him so many times today from over the top of a surgical mask, expressing everything from fear to joy.
Instead, he breathed in deeply, letting her intoxicating scent of fresh berries roll through him.
‘So is this a flying visit to Bandarra?’
His libido crashed and burned as the familiar Bandarrainduced agitation spiralled through him. ‘Yesterday I would have said yes. I usually fly in and fly out because I’m frantic in Melbourne.’
You keep telling yourself that’s the reason. It’s served you well for years. He shut his mind against the eminently reasonable voice he’d been silencing for almost as long. ‘Nonna’s CVA gave me a wake-up call and I want to spend a bit of time with her.’
As if in slow motion, she moved her gaze from her feet to his face, her irises widening into a reflective pool. ‘Meaning?’
‘I’ve asked my secretary to set back my patient list for the month.’
A shadow passed through her amazing eyes and her usually well-modulated voice rose slightly. ‘So you’re here for a few weeks?’
‘Yep. Family time.’ A jet of edgy unease tangoed with the flow of imposed duty. Spending time with Nonna was the right thing to do but the fact it meant spending a few weeks in Bandarra sent a shot of acid into his gut, eating at the lining. How the hell was he going to fill his days and stay sane?
He leaned back and breathed in deeply, trying to relax his chest as he stretched his arms across the back of the couch. Immediately, his fingers itched to curl around Abbie’s alabaster neck and feel her softness against his skin.
Getting to know Abbie would keep the Bandarra demons at bay.
There was nothing quite like the thrill of the chase and the idea offered him the first ray of hope he’d felt since his father had demanded he stay. It would be the perfect distraction. ‘I’m looking forward to spending some time with you too, now we’re friends.’
Her torso shot abruptly away from the back of the couch as if she’d been electrocuted and her eyebrows shot skyward. ‘Friends?’ The word sounded strangled. ‘That’s probably going a bit far.’
Stunned surprise dumped on him like the cold and clammy touch of slime. He couldn’t even think of a time when someone had rejected his overtures and the feeling stung like a wasp—sharp and painful. His jaw tensed as he tried to hold on to his good humour. ‘Colleagues, then.’
She gave a tight laugh. ‘We’re hardly colleagues.’
Her words bit, devaluing his interpretation of the last fourteen hours and stripping bare the memory of the camaraderie and professionalism they’d shared. ‘What the hell do you call today, then?’
‘Long.’ She lurched to her feet, her gaze wavering until it finally rested on his left shoulder. ‘I have to do a final round, Leo, so I’ll say goodnight. Thanks for your help today and enjoy your holiday in Bandarra.’ She turned her back and walked away from him and towards the door.
His jaw fell open at her abrupt dismissal of him and a curse rose to his lips, but it stalled at the sight of her baggy scrubs moving against a curvaceous butt. Lust collided with aggravation and shuddered through him. His palm tingled, his blood roared hot and he wanted to haul her back by those caramel curls, wrap her in his arms and demolish her prickly reserve with a kiss.
For the first time in months his body came alive—every colour seemed brighter, every feeling more intense and he buzzed with the wonder of it. He didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheer rush of the emergency or the challenge of the very brisk Abbie McFarlane but, either way, if he had to stay in Bandarra he had to keep busy. Seducing Abbie McFarlane would be the perfect distraction. He clapped his hands as the seeds of a plan started to shoot. This was going to be too much fun and Abbie McFarlane didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Four
ABBIE let Murphy, her Border collie, pull her along the path, totally oblivious to the usually soothing gnarled river redgums with their silver and grey bark. Not even the majestic sight of fifteen pelicans coming in to land on the blue-brown river water could haul her mind away from the fact that Leo Costa was staying in Bandarra.
She gave a half-laugh tinged with madness that had Murphy looking up at her, his tawny-gold eyes quizzical. She’d been dreading Justin leaving, knowing that her workload would double. Now that seemed like a saving grace because she’d be so flat out virtually living at the clinic and the hospital that she’d never have any time in town to run into Leo. Who knew work would save her?
The magpies’ early morning call drifted towards her and she heard a message in the flute-like song. Work had saved her before. Greg might have stripped her of everything else, but he hadn’t been able to take away her job. She’d survived and rebuilt her independence. Never again would she confuse lust with love, charm for affection, or control for care. Now she had the unconditional love of a dog, which she’d choose every single time over the pile of broken promises men left in their wake.
‘Come on, Murph, time for breakfast at the clinic.’ She broke into a jog, channelling all her energies into the run, driving away every unsettling thought of an onyx-eyed man with broad shoulders that hinted at being able to shelter those he loved from the world.
The clinic was in the hospital grounds and housed in the original Bandarra hospital which had been lovingly restored in its centennial year. With its high gabled roof, tall chimneys and cream-painted decorative timber, it welcomed patients with its sweeping veranda and kangaroo motifs worked lovingly into the mosaic floor. Abbie had seen an old photo from 1908 where a hammock hung on the veranda so she’d bought a brightly coloured hammock and had slung it between the last two posts on the front veranda. One day she planned to have time to lie in it for more than the brief ‘test’ she’d taken when she’d installed it. Meanwhile Murphy enjoyed lying underneath it, using it as shade.
The thick brick walls always offered a respite from the heat. ‘Morning, Debbie,’Abbie called to her practice nurse as she made her way into the cool kitchen, her stomach rumbling at the thought of fresh grapes just off the vine combined with locally made yoghurt drizzled with honey. ‘Where’s Jessica?’
Debbie followed her into the kitchen. ‘She’s come down with a filthy cold so I’m afraid we’re juggling reception and patients today.’
Abbie groaned. ‘That’s a great start to being one doctor down. Has anything come from the board about a new appointee?’ She dropped thick slices of crusty bakery bread into the toaster.
‘Robert Gleeson said he’s had applications from Egypt, India and Kenya and he’d be catching up with you soon for interview times.’
Abbie sighed. Rural medicine seemed to only attract doctors with the ‘short-term’ in mind and then they left just as she’d trained them up. The thought reminded her that yesterday’s emergency had got in the way of a farewell. ‘Is Justin able to have his party tonight?’
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