Jack barely managed to swallow the four-letter expletive that rose to his lips as white pain shot from his groin to his hips and radiated outward with crushing intensity. With his free hand, he gripped the edge of the trolley, trying not to double over, and somehow forced a breath into stiff and winded lungs.
Lochie’s wail hit a crescendo. Kerry’s anguished voice tried to calm Lochie and apologise to Jack and all the while Jack’s head spun with a rain of silver dots. Focus was impossible.
‘Can I be of help?’ The polite and softly spoken question, asked in a clear and precise English accent, broke through the chaos.
Jack raised his head and slowly the silver dots receded as his eyes merged into focus, settling on the most abundant mass of flame-red spiral curls he’d ever seen. They spilled out of a ponytail in defiant tresses, declaring themselves far too independent to be contained by a mere, inconsequential band of elastic. They tumbled down both sides of an alabaster forehead where they sat close to a pair of luminous eyes which stared straight at him. Their gaze was so clear and full of the promise of excitement and adventure, it was as if they’d thrown a lasso around him and were drawing him into their depths.
Jack felt himself sway towards her as his groin recovered fast and the first non-painful sensation since Lochie’s kick surged through him. The first pleasurable sensation to happen in months. He jerked back, gulped in a deep breath, but the whoosh of heat tripled—deliciously so.
He knew he was staring but he was having trouble moving his gaze. He’d expected eyes of green or blue with titian hair, but instead they were the rich and seductive colour of fine Swiss milk-chocolate. Ringed with brown, thick lashes, they sat above a snub nose dusted with freckles and a mouth that curved up on one side in a lop-sided smile. Glossy-magazine pretty she wasn’t but he didn’t care—she’d had him with one glance of those amazing eyes.
After what seemed like forever, but was probably closer to five seconds, he moved his gaze along a fine jaw and down a smooth, white neck adorned with a heavy, silver tag which disappeared under the distinctive embroidered neckline of an Indian tunic-top. The blouse fell from narrow shoulders, pulling across round breasts. His fingers rolled into a ball as a second wave of heat tumbled through him like the roll of heavy surf, rushing the most intense, visceral craving through him, almost knocking him off his feet.
With her baggy trousers that matched her top, she looked like a nymph, a free spirit. A delectable Persephone who’d floated into the department just for him.
She’s not for you at all. Until the locum arrives and your holidays really start, you’re still Dr Jack Armitage, Barragong’s respectable doctor and pillar of society.
He deliberately ignored the words and let his wayward gaze enjoy the way the floating material of her trousers caressed her legs, and then he zeroed in on her feet, feet that demanded nothing more than to be adorned with a delicate silver toe-ring. Instead they were encased in heavy hiking-boots. The juxtaposition startled him. Just like that, the work ethic instilled in him by his parents and his family’s history saw a chance, and with moral efficiency brushed the lust away like a broom. Almost.
Jack reached for another gauze pad to staunch the flow of blood from Lochie’s head while keeping his other hand firmly on Lochie’s leg. He smiled politely at the visitor, and as the doctor-in-charge he said, ‘This area of the hospital is for staff and patients. Please check in at Reception.’
With a sudden purposeful action, she slid her backpack off her shoulders and rested it against the wall before dropping a crushed and battered hat neatly onto the top. She then gave him an expectant smile. ‘Really? The paperwork can wait. You look like you’re struggling and could do with an extra pair of hands right now.’ She crossed to the sink and flicked on the taps.
Struggling? Jack Armitage didn’t struggle. Despite the fact that his eyes seemed fixed on the way her trousers moved across her cute behind, he managed to harness his indignation about the ‘struggling’ quip. ‘I must insist that you leave now, Miss, um…?’
Laughing eyes smiled at him as the unknown stranger snapped on a pair of gloves with the expertise of someone in the know. ‘Norman. Dr Sophie Norman. Sorry I’m late.’
Jack’s mouth fell open; he couldn’t hide his astonishment that this incredibly alluring woman in the free-flowing clothes was his doctor. ‘You’re my missing locum?’
‘Yes. It’s actually been a bit of a saga getting here from Mingora via Mumbai.’ Her well-enunciated words sounded very aristocratic compared with the broad Australian accent. ‘Not in the least bit helped by the moron I dealt with in the agency office. But I’m here now and ready to work.’
Jack grinned at the high-class and totally sexy way she said the word, ‘moron’. ‘I think I know who you mean. I’m Jack.’ Not yet, you’re not. ‘Dr Jack Armitage.’
‘Good to meet you, Jack.’
A husky edge clung to the words as her dancing eyes brushed his entire body with a head-to-toe sweep very similar to the one he’d given her.
His blood pounded south with every caress of her gaze.
Then, like the snapping of a therapist’s fingers, the hypnotic spell was broken and she raised her head and grabbed a bottle of saline. ‘We’ll do the introductions later, shall we?’
But it was a rhetorical question, because she’d already turned and bent down close to Lochie. With a firm voice devoid of all the come-hither huskiness, and sounding very much like a famous English nanny from literature, she said, ‘Now, young man, I’ve just walked past some pretty scary-looking reptiles. Can you tell me the name of those scaly creatures with the blue tongue?’
Lochie’s wail subsided, either out of surprise or fright, and he stared at her for a moment, completely nonplussed. ‘A blue tongue.’
She nodded briskly as she cleaned the wound while Jack applied pressure so they could see the skin edges and estimate the depth. ‘That’s right, they have a blue tongue, but what are they called?’
‘Blue tongues.’
She frowned. ‘It’s all right; if you don’t know the name, we can look it up later.’
Lochie’s bottom lip came out in a mulish line. ‘That’s their name. You don’t know much, do you?’
Kerry gasped. ‘Lochie!’
Sophie stiffened for a brief moment and then gave a strangled laughed. ‘I know how to fix you up, so how about you tell me about reptiles while we make you feel better?’
As she moved to pick up more gauze, Jack caught a glimpse of grey shadows scudding through previously clear eyes before her chin tipped up and an almost reckless gleam pushed the darkness away.
It was sudden, unexpected, and it both jarred and intrigued him.
This woman intrigued him. She looked like a hippy but with Lochie she sounded very much like an uptight, bossy and organising school teacher. The odd combination fascinated him.
It’s actually been a bit of a saga getting here from Mingora…The almost reckless gleam in her eyes suddenly made a lot of sense: she’d just come out of a war-ravaged area into a peaceful place. He imagined the sudden removal of the terrifying pressure that was exerted when your life was in constant danger must be as intoxicating as the finest bead in the
