Surgeon in a Wedding Dress. Sue MacKay
then she addled his brain. He struggled to focus on the important issues, not her. ‘If the searchers find anything now, it’s more likely to be a body. No one can survive in that icy water for very long.’
‘True, but it’s hard to give up hope, isn’t it?’ Her eyes were enormous in her pale face.
‘Very hard.’ His stomach tightened, because of the sad and pointless waste of a life. Not because of the empathy in her eyes.
‘I’d still like to wait.’ She wasn’t asking him, she was telling him, quietly but firmly.
Then from left field he felt a stirring in a region of his body he’d thought long dead. For two despair-filled years, he’d been unintentionally celibate. Now he couldn’t help himself—he glanced down at his groin. Relief poured through him. His reaction had been small. Tipping his head back, he laughed. Another long-forgotten act.
Definitely time to get out and about. That new nurse in the neonatal unit had dropped enough hints, and she obviously liked babies if she worked with them, which had to be a plus. Leah needed siblings. He’d never wanted her to be an only child.
He rubbed his arms. Wanting more children had led to a load of stress and difficulties in his otherwise wonderful marriage. Family was so important. Look how his sisters and brother had rallied round when Celine had died. But Leah would miss out on so much if he didn’t rectify the situation soon. Dating meant getting involved with another person. Was he ready? Would he ever be ready? Not while his guilt over letting down Celine hung over him like a dirty cloud.
Their marriage had been cut short by an aneurysm.
Cut short before they could resolve their problems. The shock of finding Celine’s lifeless body in the bathroom, with Leah sitting beside her singing as though nothing was wrong, still rocked Dan when he thought about it.
Which was why he didn’t think about it.
That’s also why dating was a bad idea. The whole concept of having someone else he might care about taken away from him so abruptly sent him into a cold sweat.
Suddenly the unknown woman thrust a hand out. ‘By the way, I’m Sarah Livingston, your replacement surgeon.’
‘Stone the crows.’ Shock barrelled through him.
It hadn’t occurred to him she might be the locum they expected to arrive tomorrow. The idea was absurd. She was too citified to be stopping here. Too … different. She wouldn’t fit in at all. His stomach tightened another notch. So she wasn’t passing through.
She was moving in.
Into his hospital, his clinic. Into his house.
Sarah tensed. What did the guy mean? Stone the crows. Hadn’t she just performed in a capable and professional manner? ‘You’ve got a problem with me?’
‘Ahh, no.’ The man sounded flummoxed. ‘Not at all.’ ‘I didn’t try to take control of your accident scene.’ Which was unusual. She hated playing second fiddle to anyone. But in this circumstance she’d gone along with him without any concerns. Odd. Was she coming down with something?
So far her impressions of him were straightforward. Strong hands. Sopping-wet, longish hair that appeared black. Eyes that held a load of caution and a quick anger. Then there were those wide shoulders that V’d down to narrow hips. He totally lacked style—his jeans and the baggy, woollen overshirt under his jacket were way past their use-by date. On a professional note, which was far more important, he’d performed very competently with the boy.
‘You certainly made things easier for me.’ His voice was deep, gruff, reminding her of a thistle—rough and prickly exterior, soft inside.
‘You are Dr Daniel Reilly? I heard someone call you Dan so I presumed so. If I’m mistaken, I’m sorry.’
His handshake was firm but brief, as though glad to get the niceties over. But not so fast that she didn’t notice the electricity flaring between them at his touch. Heat sizzled across her palm. Deep in her tummy warmth unfurled, reached throughout her body, reddened her cheeks.
‘It’s my practice you’ll be looking after.’ His tone hardened.
So that was it. He wasn’t happy about leaving his practice in someone else’s hands. The reluctance came through loud and clear. So why had he been told to take a break?
‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me, eager to get on with your holiday.’ She swallowed her disappointment at his lack of welcome. At least with him going on leave she mightn’t see much of him. She hoped.
Really? Truly? You don’t want to follow up on this attraction for him that’s gripping you? Absolutely not. Too soon after Oliver’s betrayal. Who said anything about getting close? What about a fling? A sigh slipped across her bottom lip as she studied Dr Reilly. She doubted her ability to have an affair and not get a little bit close to him. What a shame.
He ignored her jibe, instead turning his back to the pounding surf and nodding at an old, weatherboard building on the other side of the road. ‘We’ll wait in the Gold Miners’ Pub. Can’t have you catching a chill.’
As if. Sarah looked around at the sodden beach, the black, churning waters of the Tasman Sea, the heavy, leaden clouds racing in. Everything was wet, wet, wet. How could she have thought leaving home would help put the last few months behind her? She could’ve decided about her future in an environment she was used to, not on an alien planet.
How stupid to think doing a complete flip-over of her life would change anything. She shoved her fists into her jacket pockets, already knowing she should’ve stayed at home for these months, should’ve told her father no. Right now she’d be in her gorgeous apartment overlooking Auckland’s inner harbour, the vibrant City of Sails, where money talked. Where gorgeous, chic sandals stayed gorgeous, not getting ruined the moment she hopped out of her car.
The months in Port Weston stretched out before her like an endless road. But she wasn’t quitting. Port Weston might be like nothing she was used to, but she had to stay. She’d given her word.
Then her eyes focused on Daniel Reilly, and for some unknown reason she wondered if she’d be wise to leave right away, while she still could.
CHAPTER TWO
DR REILLY made Sarah, at five feet six, feel almost short. Following him into the dark, wood-panelled interior of the Gold Miners’ Pub, she admired his easy, smooth gait, his natural grace that belied his big build. The latent strength she’d glimpsed when he’d popped Anders’s joint back was evident in the set of his shoulders, in the loose swing of his hands. Her tongue licked her lips. Gorgeous.
He turned to her. ‘A shot of something strong will warm you through and stop your teeth chattering.’
‘I’d prefer Earl Grey tea.’
He winced. ‘Earl Grey? On the Coast?’ His eyes rolled. ‘That fancy city stuff won’t win you many friends around here.’
‘As that’s not why I’m here, it doesn’t matter.’
‘I’d like a practice to return to.’
‘Not a problem.’ The man’s looks might take her breath away but his prickly disposition annoyed her. Was she the only one he treated that way? Probably not, if he had to be forced to take leave. The intensity with which he studied her sent a blush right down to her toes. Did he like what he saw? Did she care? Uh, hello? Unbelievable how quickly her awareness of him had reached the point where she wondered how his touch on her skin would affect her. It would burn her up, she suspected. Her overreaction must be due to the contrast between the overly hot room and the chilly dampness outside. What else could it be?
Try lust or physical attraction; forget the weather. Really? Then her stomach growled. That’s what this was all about. Lack of food. Not Dr Yummy.
‘I heard that grumbling,’ the man dominating her thoughts said,