Winter Wonderland Wishes. Abigail Gordon
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Phoebe heard a second voice. It belonged to a female but she couldn’t see anyone from her vantage point. It made sense to her, even in her disorientated state, that for him to have set so much in place so quickly, such as the cool towel and the fan, he had to have had some assistance.
‘I must apologise, Phoebe. I’d hoped to have the air-con up and running before you arrived,’ Heath said, in a serious, professional tone that belied his appearance. He looked more like a private dancer than a stoic doctor. ‘I’m not surprised you passed out. Aussie summers can be tough if you’re not used to them.’
Phoebe was so embarrassed when she realised what had happened. She stirred from her horizontal position, but still felt light-headed so didn’t attempt to sit completely upright immediately. But while she slowly moved she remembered a little of the conversation they had shared—including the news he had imparted to her. ‘You’ll be working alongside me.’ Silently she begged the universe to tell her it wasn’t true.
The last thing she needed was a man like Heath. She needed to be thinking about her career as a podiatric surgeon and she wanted to be taught by an experienced older practitioner. This new arrangement was not a dynamic she had even considered as a possibility when she’d agreed to work in Adelaide. She’d thought it would be six months of respite. An emotionally healing time packaged as a working sabbatical.
‘Here’s some water,’ the young woman said as she stepped into view, and she handed Heath a glass with a plastic concertina straw. ‘It’s not too cold.’
Phoebe squinted as she tried to focus. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties. Blonde, quite tall, very pretty, with a lovely smile. Phoebe suddenly felt Heath’s strong arm lift her upright, yet there was no warmth in the way he held her. It was as if she was an inanimate object.
‘Hold on to your cold compress and sip this,’ he said as he curved the straw to meet her lips.
He held the drink steady with one hand while the other still supported her. His bedside manner she would have described as ‘reserved’ at best.
Phoebe held the cold towel in place as she slowly sucked the water through the straw and felt immediately better for it. But the sight of her skirt no longer demurely skimming her knees did not make her feel good at all. Most of her legs were bare, for the world and Dr Heath Rollins to see, and she was horrified.
‘I’ve had enough, thank you,’ she said as she moved her mouth away from the drink and then, struggling to keep the towel on her head, she tried to lift her bottom slightly and release the hem of the skirt.
There was little covered at all. Fainting and baring parts of her anatomy that should be saved for the beach, or more intimate encounters, was definitely not a great start to this already less than desirable working relationship. She had secured the job purely on her references, and now she could only guess what he was thinking as she reached down to gain some dignity.
‘Here—let me help you.’
His hands lifted her gently and with ease. Her heartbeat suddenly increased with the unexpected touch of his hands on her bare skin. Suddenly she did not feel like an inanimate object. And this time her giddiness wasn’t from the heat of the room. His closeness while he held her up made the job of adjusting her clothing difficult. She finally wriggled the skirt into place and swung her legs around, subtly encouraging Heath to release her and step back.
Clearing her throat, and raising her chin a little defensively, Phoebe looked at Heath as if he were almost the perpetrator of the incident. ‘How exactly—?’ she began and then paused for a moment. ‘How did I get here? I don’t remember leaving the reception area. I do remember feeling very hot, then light-headed, but where was I when I fainted?’
‘You passed out on a chair in the waiting room, and I carried you in here and put you on your side. You were out for less than a minute. As soon as your head was level with your body you came to.’
The way he spoke was quite clinical and detached, but she still managed to feel uneasy at the mental picture of him scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the examination bed with little or no effort.
Her eyes briefly scanned his firefighter physique before she blinked and turned away. Ken Rollins would be back before she knew it, she told herself. Then all would be right in her world again. This was just a hiccup in her plans. And if Heath’s attitude was anything to go by she had nothing to worry about. His body might have been created for sin but his manner certainly hadn’t.
‘Thank you. I’m sorry I created such a fuss.’ Her tone quickly mimicked his coolness.
‘These things happen, but you seem fine now,’ he said as he stepped back further and turned to face the other woman.
‘Tilly, you can finish up. I think we’re fine here. Thanks for cancelling the next two days’ patients. The air-con should be repaired by Thursday. You can pick up the twins from childcare early and stay home for a couple of days.’
‘Are you sure, Heath? I can come in and do some accounts and general office catch-up work tomorrow.’
‘No,’ he replied firmly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. ‘It’s like a sauna today and it will be worse tomorrow. It’s a health and safety issue to be working in these conditions.’
‘All right—have it your way,’ Tilly said as she reached over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘See you at home tonight, then. Oh, and Dr Johnson? I hope you feel better soon.’
‘Thank you, but please call me Phoebe.’
Phoebe looked down at the young woman’s hand as she left the room and saw a wedding band and stunning solitaire diamond. They were married. And they had twins. Of course they did. They were perfect for each other. Two stunning blonde Aussies, sun-kissed and fabulous. She could only guess how gorgeous their children would be.
Phoebe wondered if she had read Heath incorrectly. Perhaps he wasn’t a Giles clone. Perhaps he was an austere but loving husband who just happened to be very good-looking and in Phoebe’s still emotionally raw state that had incorrectly translated to him being a potential cad. All good-looking men had been tarnished by Giles. And she had clearly been scarred.
She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and a little sad at her own ability to jump to conclusions. Perhaps all men were not the same … Just the one she had chosen. And Susy’s recent choice too.
Moving awkwardly on the examination table, she tried to inch her skirt down further to cover her knees.
He shook his head. ‘You don’t have to rush to cover up. I’m not looking at your legs, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Phoebe felt instantly embarrassed. She began fidgeting nervously and smoothing the rest of her clothes into place, and then tidying her hair in an attempt to gain composure without saying a word. There was nothing that came to mind that wouldn’t make her appear even sillier and more self-conscious, so she stayed silent.
Heath watched the way she was fussing. He found her behaviour so far from the image he had created in his mind of a podiatric surgeon from Washington with impeccable references, who was triple board certified in surgery, orthopaedics, and primary podiatric medicine. She was also a Fellow of the American College of Foot and Ankle Surgeons, the American Academy of Podiatric Sports Medicine and the American