Surgeon in a Wedding Dress

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.’