his and shook it, trying to ignore the shot of electricity that tickled up her arm at his touch. Her eyes found his and there was a sudden connection there, a fleeting warmth she hadn’t seen before. A shy heat that rebounded and hit her cheeks.
She realised that the rest of her was shivering. She looked down at her sand-covered legs and the goose-bumps along her arms. And felt the heat of his eyes over her body as he followed her gaze. It had been a long time since she’d felt that kind of warmth, uncurling something in her gut, spreading through her abdomen.
Then when she locked eyes with him again the guarded shadows had returned.
She was used to her brothers, who wore their pubescent hearts on their sleeves, whose every emotion she could read like it was her own. She’d learnt pretty quickly to understand exactly what her stepdad had thought too, even before he’d thought it himself, just so she could avoid the inevitable.
But reading Adam Miller? It was like he had so much going on behind those eyes but fought frantically to keep it all sealed away. At least, he clearly wasn’t interested in sharing it with her.
Good idea. He’s grumpy and bad-mannered and way too attractive for your own good.
It was time to go home. She didn’t want to feel stirrings of anything. Not lust or desire. Or anything that would lead to hurt all over again. She didn’t have the time or the energy. She had to focus on sorting out her life and finalising her travel plans. She dropped his hand, letting the heat evaporate. ‘I should go.’
‘Yes.’ Without so much as a goodbye he walked towards the car park, his boots hanging from one hand. She noticed a slight favouring to the left. A barely perceptible limp, and she remembered the scarring. It didn’t detract from him, no. Not at all. The way he carried himself, erect and proud, the way he hid his limp like a secret, intrigued her. Compelled her to watch him again.
‘Oh, and next time you’d better keep your clothes on!’ Duh. The words were out before she had a chance to stop herself. One day she’d learn to keep her mouth shut.
He turned slowly and leaned against his truck, confusion and—was that incredulity?—on his face. She got the distinct impression that smile wasn’t in his vocabulary. Whereas dark, brooding and mysterious took centre stage. ‘Sorry?’
Yes, she was. For saying anything, and now she had to follow through. ‘Or you’ll get a reputation.’ She waved, trying to cover her cringing with a smile.
Before she said anything else equally as embarrassing she clicked her brain back to mothering mode and mentally checked off her evening to-do list—dinner, washing, laundry. Then the luxury of adventure-planning—visas, itinerary and packing. Nowhere in there was space for focus on grumpy mysterious strangers with abs to die for.
She watched Adam take off his jacket, revealing his bare torso again, and the tiny tattoo—a black and yellow dragonfly, she’d discovered—before climbing into his dusty truck. And she had the strangest feeling she needed to keep well away from Adam Miller’s tortured body, naked or not.
CHAPTER TWO
THREE days into the job and Adam had started to get twitchy. The view of the inside of the ambulance station was getting old. He eased the muscles in his shoulders, stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. ‘At what point do I actually get on the road and do something?’
‘Today’s your lucky day.’ Dan opened the ambulance cab door and climbed in. ‘The paperwork’s over, and your induction complete. Once we’ve finished the checks we’re good to go.’
‘Great. Bring it on.’ Adam exhaled deeply, finished his supply checks and stared at the cab radio, willing it to spring into life. Not that he was itching to get his hands on sick people, more that he needed something to keep his mind occupied. It had been too long since he’d done anything useful. Four long years in a jittery guilt-fuelled wilderness. Until he’d realised that feeling sorry for himself didn’t honour the memory of the people he’d lost. That action eased the pain of survival.
And being busy would keep his mind off dark, steamy eyes and tantalising curves. Starting the job for real would focus him on his true intent: getting on with the rest of his life. At least he could. There were others less lucky. He owed those not here any more a grab at a decent life, when theirs had been ripped away.
‘Here we go.’ Dan flicked the receiver as a crackly call came through. ‘Your wish is my command.’ He waited until Adam belted in then started the vehicle. ‘Eighty-four-year-old female with shortness of breath. We’re about twenty minutes away.’
‘Twenty minutes for an SOB?’ Adam bit back a surge of frustration. ‘How sick is she going to be when we finally reach her?’
‘Most of our time is spent getting to and from the patients and then to and from the hospital. The first responder gets there first, if they’re available, and gives us a call if we’re needed. That’s country medicine for you. We do the best we can. Anything too serious gets choppered to Auckland. Hold on.’ Dan revved up the engine and pulled away from the ambulance station.
Adam nodded. ‘This is going to take a bit of getting used to.’
‘Hardly front-line stuff here. Hope you don’t find it too slow?’
‘I’m looking for slow. Slow’s good.’ There had been times when he wouldn’t have cared. Slow. Fast. Live. Die. But he’d dragged himself back from that bleak darkness and was determined to leave the past alone. Slow seemed a pretty good start. Slow meant he could take in his surroundings, appreciate the beauty of now. Try to live in the moment. ‘I needed a change of scenery. Driving around this countryside is good for my soul.’
‘You’ve got to admit it’s a cool place to live.’ Dan pointed to the undulating, bush-clad hills and the deep turquoise ocean as they passed yet another secluded deserted cove. ‘Such awesome views. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. Must make a change to the army?’
‘Yeah.’ Adam chewed his cheek as his gut kicked. As soon as anyone ever mentioned the army he was bombarded with questions. Inevitable, really. But civilians only thought of the danger and the guns. They couldn’t understand how hard it was to talk about what he’d seen. What he’d done. What he needed to leave behind. If only it was that easy. His past had a nasty habit of creeping up on him, in the middle of the night usually, snatching away sleep and leaving him ice cold.
Dan glanced over and Adam waited for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long. ‘You seen any real action?’
‘Sure. Plenty.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I was deployed in the hotspots—Iraq, Afghanistan, the places you’ve heard about but you won’t be getting a postcard from any time soon. Then I was in Timor-Leste just before …’ He paused. Closed down the memories. ‘Before I left.’
Dan shot him a look that said I won’t ask.
Adam was grateful for the reprieve, although he did think briefly about explaining. But, hell, he’d decided that the sooner he stopped thinking about what had happened, the sooner he’d be able to move on in his life.
The ambulance sped down the highway past the Atanga Bay turn-off. He craned his neck to look for the bright yellow medical centre. And some hint of Skye. Then realised
