‘No, I’m not okay. Can you come down here?’ Sliding her hands on her hips, she drew herself up to her full five feet three. So not enough. ‘This feels like a scene from a Shakespeare play. And you’re not pretty enough to be Juliet.’
In what felt like a nano-second he was towering over her. She gulped. Actually—mortifyingly—gulped. Pretty didn’t come close. Try devastating.
He looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a razor-blade advert, all proud jaw, taut muscles and tight thighs. Neat and functional dark cropped hair, the complete opposite of her chaotic mop. A pale blue polo shirt and dark grey chinos completed the look of casual professionalism. Every inch the perfect community doctor. Her heart kicked into super-hyper-majorly fast tachycardia.
Her lips dried. Her mouth dried. She spluttered.
Breathe. She found her self-control and pushed it centre stage. No way was she going to be bamboozled by a pretty face. Not again. Dragging a hand across her stomach, she felt the ridged skin and shoved back the memories. Nothing like a gnarly scar to keep a girl centred.
‘Don’t worry, forget it. We’re going to be late.’
‘Whoa!’ Luke’s eyebrows peaked as he so obviously tried to hide a smirk. And failed. ‘Man. Your hair.’
‘That obvious, huh?’ Her heart sank. ‘You and your hefty dose of chlorine have turned my hair …’
‘Green? This is bad.’ Bad? Judging by the grin splitting his irritatingly gorgeous chiseled cheeks, this was the most fun he’d had with a locum for a while.
‘Go ahead, laugh.’
‘Okay, if you insist.’
She nodded as despair toyed with the fading traces of her good humour. She’d so hoped she could do Zac proud. Coming to North Beach had been the first step towards family reconciliation. And she’d been only too pleased to help out, but now look. One step away from utter humiliation.
‘Believe me, this is way better than it was. I spent all of yesterday researching cures on the internet and then washing it in different stuff. Tomato paste, baking soda and vinegar. One by one. Over and over.’
Frizz stood out from the sides of her head like unruly garden twine. She tried to smooth it down with her palm. ‘If your patients complain about me smelling like a salad dressing, you know why.’
He leaned close and sniffed the top of her head. His soap and shampoo scent had a hint of cinnamon and apple. Freshly laundered cotton strained over broad shoulders as he bent towards her. Shoulders that could take the weight of the world, she imagined, and muscles that were well looked after.
His proximity tormented her fraying nerves and flagging willpower. Her hermitic lifestyle suited her just fine, but sometimes, on very rare occasions, she craved a shoulder to lean against. The comfort of human contact.
And suddenly she had a strange urge to nestle into the crook of his neck—if only she could reach—and breathe every six-feet-too-many-inches of him in. She sighed, hating herself for even thinking of breaking the promises she’d made to herself. Especially with someone so … male.
Was she really that frazzled? It was only a bit of green hair, after all.
‘I can’t smell anything untoward.’ Luke ran a hand over his chin as he regarded her with mock concern. ‘Dr Price, I’d like to say your green hair is hardly noticeable but, actually, it is rather loud.’
‘If you’d left a note I wouldn’t have dived into that pool,’ she insisted, laughing despite her misgivings. ‘This is all your fault.’
‘Sure.’ He nodded, his lips curving upwards. ‘That’s right, blame the helping guy.’
‘I’d hate to see what damage you’d do if you were deliberately trying, then.’
‘There we go with the melodrama again.’ Luke laughed. She was so not what he’d expected. Zac was so laid-back he was horizontal, but his sister was wound as tight as her green-blonde corkscrew hair. Her dark blue eyes had a keep-your-distance glare, and too much sadness for someone so young. She wore a flimsy navy blouse, and snug black pants that clung to those interesting curves he’d glimpsed the other day.
A thumb hooked through her trouser belt loop and her chin tilted at a defiant angle. Not the most feminine stance, and yet everything about her screamed sensual woman. She was like a fiery pixie, small in stature, big on personality. With a very sharp tongue.
Which, frankly, he could do without. It was taking up way too much of his time. Jessie might turn out to be a damned fine locum, but he couldn’t wait until Zac came back and order was restored.
A spark of daring in those dark eyes danced in the dappled early morning light. ‘So, do you still want me?’
‘What?’ He cleared his throat in an attempt to stem a surge of good old male heat. What red-blooded guy wouldn’t?
He stepped back. And again. Sure, he’d promised Zac to be nice and keep an eye on her, but he needed to force some space. She had an intriguing edgy vulnerability, something he’d learnt to avoid at all costs. ‘What kind of question is that?’
‘A simple one. I used words of one syllable just to keep it easy for you.’ An eyebrow peaked as she pursed her lips. ‘You seem a little … distracted. I said, seeing as I look like an advert for swamp chic, do you still want me at the surgery?’
‘Oh, I suppose. Zac says you’re a very capable doctor. And we are desperate.’ She didn’t look like she’d be able to lift a scalpel let alone old enough to use one. But somehow, he guessed, she’d know exactly where to stick that blade.
‘I ready, Daddy.’ Lucy appeared at the front door, clutching her pink rucksack. Luke’s heart squeezed. He turned to give his little girl his full attention. ‘Hey, sweetheart.’
‘Who’s dat?’
He picked her up and hugged her close, relishing the feel of his wriggling daughter. Tentatively he was navigating his way through the chaos of solo parenting. The initial gaping hole of disbelief and—at times—outright fear had been filled by a bundle of mischief that demanded his full attention, gave him all of his joy. And most of his stress.
‘Have you got your books? Water bottle? Lunchbox?’ He ticked off her daily requisites. ‘Inhaler? Spare pants?’
Her head bobbed up and down proudly. ‘Yes, Daddy. All things.’
‘Good girl. That list we made helps, eh?’ Would he ever remember everything? Each day, it seemed, her needs changed. She was growing so fast and he was running to catch up.
He breathed in her strawberry anti-tangle shampoo scent and tickled her ribs. She squealed and squirmed as he held on tight. No other female would ever feel this good in his arms.
‘Now, this lady is Jessie. She’s Uncle Zac’s sister and she’s going to help me at work.’
‘Jessie, this is my daughter.’ He turned round to see Jessie’s smirk replaced with abject sadness. Tears pricked her eyes. She looked for a second as if her whole world had collapsed.
