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EMILY FORBES began her writing life as a partnership between two sisters who are both passionate bibliophiles. As a team, ‘Emily’ had ten books published.
While Emily’s love of writing remains as strong as ever, the demands of life with young families have recently made it difficult to work on stories together. But rather than give up her dream Emily now writes solo. The challenges may be different, but the reward of having a book published is still as sweet as ever.
Whether as a team or as an individual, Emily hopes to keep bringing stories to her readers. Her inspiration comes from everywhere, and stories she hears while travelling, at mothers’ lunches, in the media and in her other career as a physiotherapist all get embellished with a large dose of imagination until they develop a life of their own. Emily Forbes won a 2013 Australia Romantic Book of the Year Award for her title Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist.
If you would like to get in touch with Emily you can e-mail her at [email protected]
Dear Reader
Thank you for picking up my latest book. The idea for this story came from an article I read about people who choose to care for ex-spouses who are battling severe and sometimes terminal illnesses. I began to wonder what sort of person would offer to do that. They would have to be selfless and compassionate and, although most of the carers in the story were women, once Quinn came into my head that was it—the story started with him.
He is a gorgeous man—loyal, kind and generous (with amazing blue eyes!). He cares for and respects women, and is just the sort of man Ali needs. She is attracted to his strength of character, his kindness and his sense of moral justice. All he needs to do is convince her that she’s the perfect woman for him.
Enjoy!
Emily
The Honourable Army Doc
Emily Forbes
For my brother, James, who is a lot like Quinn— gentle, kind, respectful of women and a fabulous father.
Growing up with three older sisters can’t always have been easy but you’ve turned out pretty well!
Love you xx
Table of Contents
Quinn
QUINN DANIELS FINISHED his drink and signalled to the barman for another. His second Scotch would have to be his last for the evening, he was a keynote speaker at the weekend medical conference and his address was on tomorrow’s agenda. He needed to keep a clear head.
He waited at the bar, keeping himself a little separate from the rest of the crowd. He let the conversations flow around him, not shutting them out but not totally absorbing them either. They were background noise as he let his attention wander over the room. The bar was in a conference room that was doing double duty as the cocktail reception area and the usual nondescript décor, seen in large hotels the world over, meant he could have been anywhere, but to Quinn’s eyes it was the crowd that told him he was home. The room was only half-full but already there were more women in the space than he had seen for a long time. His gaze wandered, watching more out of habit than with any real purpose. He was still getting used to being in the company of women, women who weren’t off limits.
After his second tour of duty in Afghanistan he was still acclimatising to Western life. The Scotch in his hand and the women in the crowd were only two of many differences. But it was enough to change the atmosphere. The sounds were different—the men’s voices provided a bass accompaniment to the higher-pitched and slightly louder female voices, and the air smelt different too. It smelt of women—perfume and soap, hairspray and make-up—and the room certainly looked different. In Afghanistan he and everyone else had spent most of their time in uniform. There weren’t many occasions to dress up but tonight he was surrounded by men wearing suits and ties and women in cocktail dresses. There was plenty of black and a lot less khaki.
A splash of red caught his eye. In a room of predominantly dark colours the red dress burned like fire, casting a warm glow over everything nearby and drawing his eye. The dress was draped around the most beautiful woman he had seen in a very long time. The dress began over one smooth, tanned shoulder and wrapped across rounded breasts then pulled in firmly at the waist before flaring out and falling to her knees. Her arms were long and slender. So were her legs. She was showing far less skin than a lot of other women in the room but Quinn let his imagination picture what lay beneath the gauzy fabric. She wore her dark hair long and it flowed over her shoulders, gleaming as it reflected the light. Her lips were painted a glossy red to match her dress and the brightness of her mouth stood out
