he came to a stop in front of her Fran felt his gaze run over her assessingly, taking in her sarong-clad figure. She wished she had put on something a little less revealing but she hadn’t seen a soul on the beach for the past week. In fact, over the last few days she had she had just started to feel she could relax her guard a little bit, not having to worry about people and how they viewed her. She hated people staring at the scar on her leg. Her sarong was fairly sheer but thankfully not that sheer.
‘Sergeant Hawke,’ she said, unable to kept the chill from her tone even though her body felt blisteringly hot.
‘Nice day for a walk,’ he said, reaching down to toss the stick for Rufus again.
Fran couldn’t help noticing the way his biceps bulged as he threw the stick. He was in perfect physical condition, muscular and toned with not a gram of non-functional flesh—as Caro would call it—on his frame. His skin was a deep olive, covered now with a glistening layer of perspiration from hard physical exercise. His shoulders were broad, his waist and hips lean, so lean she could see every contour of his external oblique muscle above his hips. Stop staring at his groin, she chided herself, and quickly brought her eyes up to his.
She suddenly realised it was her turn to say something. ‘Um…yes…Rufus likes a lot of exercise.’
Jacob Hawke gave her his first smile. Well, strictly speaking, it was really more of a half-smile but Fran still found herself staring at him as if he had zapped her with a stun gun. Her breath hitched in her throat, her stomach gave a little flip turn and her legs—even her good one—threatened to fold beneath her.
Fran hadn’t realised she had even stumbled until his hand shot out and steadied her. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, frowning at her in concern.
She looked down at his long tanned fingers almost over-lapping on her forearm and gave a little shiver. Her skin was a light golden honey colour from her days on the beach but nowhere near the darkness of his. Her arm was smooth and hairless while his was liberally covered with springy masculine hair, right down his arms to the backs of his hands and along each of his long fingers.
‘Dr Nin?’
Fran brought her eyes back to his. ‘Sorry…’ She swept her tongue out over her lips. ‘I’m still not all that steady on sand. It’s supposed to be good physio for me…you know, walking with bare feet.’
Jacob dropped his hand from her arm, his fingers still tingling slightly even when he took the stick Rufus was poking against his thigh and threw it towards the rolling waves. ‘How’d it happen?’ he asked, turning back to look at her.
Something moved in her eyes, like a stagehand quickly re-arranging something on the set before the audience could notice. ‘Skiing,’ she said, looking away into the distance. ‘In New Zealand.’
Jacob let a little silence pass.
‘So, how long are you staying in town?’ he asked.
‘About three months or so,’ she answered, trying to capture Rufus’s collar as he came back with the stick. ‘We should let you get on with your run.’
‘I’m done,’ Jacob said. ‘I was going to head into the surf to cool off. Have you been in the water yet?’
‘No, not yet,’ she said, reaching for the dog again.
Rufus darted out of her reach and, barking madly, raced off after a seagull.
‘I’ll get him,’ Jacob said and, putting two fingers to his mouth, gave a whistle that would have stopped a train. Rufus skidded to a halt and turned and ran back, his ears flopping and his tail wagging.
‘I’ll hold him while you clip on his lead,’ Jacob offered.
Fran couldn’t believe how uncooperative her fingers were in performing such a simple task but somehow Jacob Hawke’s fingers brushing against hers as he held Rufus in place sent jolts of electricity up and down her spine. Finally the dog was back on the lead and she straightened. ‘Thank you,’ she said, looping the lead twice around her wrist for insurance. ‘Enjoy your swim.’
She began to walk back the way she had come but Rufus proved reluctant to leave. He kept looking back at the tall figure behind, who when Fran took a covert glance was now carving his way through the surf in long easy strokes. His running shoes and socks were on the beach, along with his shorts. Fran didn’t want to think too much about what he was swimming in. Male underwear was very similar to male swimwear but she didn’t want to be around to make up her mind which he was wearing, if anything. She gave Rufus’s lead another firm tug and headed up the path to Caro’s house.
‘Fran, oh, thank God you’re back,’ Caro said as soon as she came in the door. ‘I think I need to go to hospital. I’m bleeding.’
Fran pushed aside her feelings of panic and did her best to get into doctor mode but she felt helplessly inadequate, more so because it was her sister and she couldn’t summon up even a millimetre of clinical distance. ‘How much blood?’ she asked. ‘Just a show or a steady stream?’
‘A show at first and then I got a few cramps and now it’s getting heavier,’ Caro said, swallowing in anguish. ‘I’ve called Nick. He’s on his way.’ There was the sound of a car pulling into the drive. ‘Oh, thank God, that’s him now.’
Fran called an ambulance first and then, after making her sister comfortable and doing her best to reassure her brother-in-law, she quickly packed a bag for Caro to take with her to hospital.
‘I won’t lose the babies, will I?’ Caro asked as she was loaded in the back of the ambulance a short time later, her face still white with distress.
‘No, of course not, Caro—the placenta may have lifted a little, that’s all. Just keep calm and relaxed and wait for a full obstetric assessment in hospital. The doctors will do everything possible to keep you all safe,’ Fran said. ‘Don’t worry about things here. I’ll look after Rufus and I’ll call Mum and Dad once I know how things are going with you.’
She turned to Nick, whose face looked the colour of ash.
‘Try not to panic, Nick. An early delivery is very common with twins. Caro will be much safer being monitored in hospital at this stage.’ Especially as I am practically useless at managing a sore throat, let alone something like this, Fran thought in distress.
‘Thanks, Fran,’ Nick said, his throat sounding tight. ‘We’ll call you once we know what the go is.’
It was only after the ambulance had gone that Fran found it hard to keep from spiralling into a full-blown panic attack. She tried to keep busy, but the house seemed so empty without her sister’s cheerful voice sounding out from whichever room she happened to be in.
Rufus looked downcast, his ears down, a low whining sound coming from his throat as he followed Fran about forlornly.
The telephone rang three hours later with Nick informing her he was the proud father of twin boys. Although in the neonatal unit, they were doing very well, all things considered, but would be in hospital for some weeks. There was some suggestion one of the babies might have to be transferred to one of the larger teaching hospitals in Sydney for further monitoring. Nick had decided he would stay in Wollongong in a serviced apartment and had already contacted the education department about finding a replacement teacher. He wanted to be with Caro and the boys until
