Falling For Her Fake Fiancé

Izzie had been given morphine making her barely comatose, which was a good thing, Mac decided as they worked to find the extent of her injuries. She’d hit the post with her thigh, fracturing the bone in three places. Her pelvis hadn’t come off any better.

‘Thankfully none of her organs were damaged,’ Mac informed the girl’s mother as they waited for the orderly to take the child to Theatre to have those bones seen to. ‘Nor is there any head injury apart from the cut above her eye, though there’s a severe whiplash to her neck, which will cause ongoing issues with headaches and muscle tension. Izzie will be referred to a neurologist for help with that.’

Tears poured down the young mother’s face as she gripped her unconscious daughter’s hand. ‘But she will be all right? Won’t she? Please say yes.’

He wanted to. He really wanted to. It was inherent in him to make people feel better, or safe, or at least able to function normally. It was something that had started the day he saw his father kicking the family dog for being sick on the kitchen floor. Mac had snatched Pippy away and run for the garden shed, only to be followed and given a lesson in not letting animals or people turn him into a miserable excuse for a man.

But being honest was right up there too. ‘Izzie may always walk with a limp. Whiplash can also be hard to completely put right.’

The tears became a torrent. ‘My poor little girl. It’s not fair. She’s always been such a monkey, climbing trees and ladders and getting into places no one would’ve thought possible. She terrifies me at times, but there’s no stopping her. She thinks she’s bulletproof.’

‘She’s probably had the biggest wake-up call possible.’ Or she’ll take it on the chin and carry on being a monkey. ‘Parenting, eh? Who said it was easy?’

‘You got kids, Doctor?’

Cherie had been four months pregnant when she died. ‘No.’ The word spat out, so he added with more restraint, ‘Not yet.’ Never. Unless... Unless he could talk about the past, undo those crippling fears enough to let the sun shine in—as in Kelli sunshine.

Right that moment Kelli walked past, helping her next patient, an elderly man with what appeared to be severe arthritis in his leg. She did not acknowledge him. Had been distant in the room with Izzie. Had been distant ever since leaving his office an hour ago.

Hopefully she’d find him a smile before the end of the week or it was going to be a long, awkward weekend on Waiheke Island. It was already a long, awkward shift.

Bring on eleven p.m.

* * *

That time did eventually tick over. Monday’s were never frantic but this one seemed quieter than usual. In other ways Mac’s mind was constantly on alert, Kelli alert. Her laughter, her voice, scent, the way the air cracked like an approaching storm. For eight hours he’d been put through the wringer, his body tense and filled with need. Immediately after completing handover he grabbed his bag and headed to the staff gym in the hospital basement. A hard workout would fix what ailed him.

In shorts and sleeveless sports top Mac strode into the workout room and slammed to a halt. He wasn’t alone. Nothing new in that. But never before had Kelli Barnett been here at the same time. Then again, she worked night shift now. He hadn’t known she worked out. Memories of firm muscles and a flat abdomen, a stunning figure accentuated by that dress, waved at him, reminding him of how his groin had tightened. Was tightening now. Went to show he hadn’t really thought about it.

As he watched those long legs running on the treadmill his heart rate was increasing exponentially. Endless legs wound around his waist as they—Gulp. Out of here, now. She hadn’t seen him. He’d be gone before that changed. No way was he working out in the same room as Kelli.

‘Hey, Mac, how’s things?’

Spinning around, he came face to face with the surgeon who’d operated on young Izzie. ‘Andrew, haven’t seen you in here for a while.’ And I’m not about to, considering I’m on my way out.

The pounding of feet on that treadmill was increasing in speed and noise. If Kelli was working up to a top speed she wouldn’t be looking around the gym to see who else was here. He might still get away.

‘Want to lift some weights?’ Andrew asked.

‘Not tonight.’ He stepped aside, intent on leaving, but couldn’t resist glancing across to the treadmills.

Caught. Kelli was holding onto the handlebar with one hand and staring at him as though she was oblivious to what her legs were doing. Her face a picture of surprise and—and annoyance? Either way, she definitely wasn’t happy to see him.

She stumbled. Grabbed at the bar with her free hand, tried to get back to the measured, fast steps required to keep up with the machine’s set speed. She kept tripping, as if she couldn’t quite get it right.

Mac was already halfway to her. ‘Hit the slow button,’ he called as worry thickened his throat. Fall and chances were she’d twist an ankle or sprain a wrist.

The treadmill stopped. Instantly. Kelli lurched forward, banging into the control panel.

‘The slow button, not the off one.’ But he was too late telling her that.

Kelli remained upright, her breasts rising and falling fast, her hands at her sides. But man, could she curse.

Mac stopped beside the treadmill and watched her, his worry backing off, replaced with silent laughter as she gave herself a right lecture. ‘Come on. You’re not that bad,’ he intervened at last.

Then she removed earplugs and glanced at him. ‘Did you say something?’

‘Nothing as potent as that diatribe I just heard.’

Heat seared her cheeks, turning them a sharp shade of crimson. ‘Ouch. Did anyone else hear me?’

‘I doubt it. You’re a quiet banshee.’

‘I’m stupid, is what I am. Losing focus and nearly falling flat on my backside. I can see the photos now. All dressed up for the wedding and sporting bruises up and down my thighs.’

That brought up a mental picture Mac couldn’t contain. His gaze dropped to her thighs. Under Lycra they were toned, smooth, mouth-watering. The skin he could see was tanned, probably the result of time spent in the tropical sun. Then he heard the rest of her sentence. ‘Is your dress very short?’

‘It’s ankle length.’ Kelli looked away. ‘With splits up both sides.’

‘How high do these splits go?’ He wasn’t going to survive if they reached higher than her shins.

‘Umm, to the top of my thighs.’ She still didn’t look at him.

‘Oh, man.’ Survival was out. His heart was already practising speed-dialling and another part of his anatomy was doing a sit-up. ‘I see.’ Unfortunately he could. His imagination was particularly overactive tonight. Pumping a few weights wouldn’t have helped at all. He’d probably pull a muscle. Don’t go there, his mind shouted.

‘You getting on a treadmill?’ his tormentor asked.

‘I’ll hit the rowing machine first.’ Instantly he wanted to snatch the words back. What was wrong with one of the cycle machines? They weren’t directly in front of the treadmills.

‘Right,’ Kelli muttered and punched some buttons to start the conveyor beneath her feet moving. ‘Right,’ a little louder as she slipped her earplugs back in place, pressed the gradient mode and began pounding uphill.

CHAPTER THREE (#ue02b3aec-07d2-5f1f-b6fe-1466a2057a69)

KELLI RAN UP and down hills on the same spot until the distance monitor came up with five kilometres.

Mac was still in front of her, sweat pouring off him as he worked those pecs and shoulder muscles, rowing his heart out.

While her heart was racing with exertion, and disconcerting need for the man in front of her.

She ran another two kilometres. Her legs might be getting tired, but her brain was still tripping around fast as though it had received a sugar bomb. Not lust, or desire, or anything to do with Mac. Couldn’t be. Those emotions were on lockdown, afraid to surface in case she got sucked in and her heart torn out again when she was only just getting it back in shape after the last time. Now that they were spending the weekend together she had to be more vigilant about keeping hot thoughts about him under wraps. She couldn’t have him looking at her and reading her emotions and needs. Nor could she deal with him kissing her senseless then turning away. Not a second time.

Did she mention desire? Hot and expanding throughout her weary body, her sluggish muscles; livening her up, not preparing her for sleep when she got home.

Time to stop the machine. Nothing was going to shut her brain up. Not in here anyway. Not with Mac wearing the sleeveless top that showed sweat-slicked, tanned skin, and muscles that reminded her how hard that body had felt under her palms.

Slowing the treadmill at a sensible pace this time, Kelli dragged in lungfuls of air and gave up trying to ignore the beautiful sight before her. Mightn’t get another opportunity.

Those broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and flat belly made for a perfect package. That night dancing in Sydney he’d made her feel small and dainty. Enough so she’d let her hair down and enjoyed being with Mac on the dance floor, letting loose in a way that had made her briefly forget all her insecurities about her size.