Forbidden Nights With The Boss. Anna J. Stewart
shrugged.
‘You just don’t know, do you?’ she said, but after Jo had checked out both her and Kaylin, Amy agreed she’d talk to Todd about it and let Jo know if she wanted to stay in the hospital for the sleep programme.
‘Do you know where Mrs Scott and the kids went?’ she asked as Jo was walking with her back to the reception area.
‘Back to Mr Scott,’ Jo told her, remembering how wary she’d been when the woman had made that decision. ‘Mr Scott completed a programme they were running in Port to help men like him and I think he joined a support group, so hopefully it all worked out.’
Amy waved goodbye and Jo turned to go back to her room to check who was next. She ran smack bang into a broad chest.
‘Men like him?’ the owner of the chest repeated. ‘Abusive?’
Jo nodded, her mind still full of the uneasiness that thinking about the Scotts had caused.
‘And the man went to Port? There’s a refuge but no programme for men here?’
Jo had backed away from him, and now his persistence forced her to look up into his face.
‘The Scotts were gone two years ago, why the interest?’
Cam beamed at her, his smile so warm she felt it radiate against her skin.
And set alarm bells clanging in her head!
‘It’s something I can do,’ he announced, still beaming with delight at whatever he was thinking. ‘Something I can set up. If not a regular programme at least a support-slash-discussion group.’
It was an excellent idea, and something she and Lauren had often discussed, but why was Cam being so helpful?
So he’d have to stay on?
‘You’re only here for a couple of months,’ she reminded him.
‘On trial for a couple of months.’ His retort was so swift she knew he’d followed her thoughts. ‘Anyway, if it doesn’t work out here at the clinic, I could always stay on in town and surf for a few more months, maybe pick up some shifts at the hospital. Tom said yesterday that they could probably get funding for a part-time doctor, and after the holidays I can live in my van in the caravan park so I wouldn’t be bothering you.’
Bothering her?
Had he guessed how she was reacting to him? Well, not her so much but her body …
Whether it was his proximity—the hall was getting narrower by the minute—or the thought of Cam being around for longer than was absolutely necessary, Jo didn’t know. All she knew was that she feeling extremely flustered and she did know she didn’t do flustered.
Ever.
‘We’ve both got patients to see,’ she reminded Cam, and stomped away, even more put out because the soft-soled sandals she wore didn’t make satisfactory stomping noises.
Hmm.
Cam watched her go.
Had he flustered her?
Jo Harris didn’t strike him as a woman who flustered easily.
And why was he thinking about her—in particular, why was he thinking about her as a woman? He may not have PTSD, but he certainly wasn’t in any state to be getting involved with a woman. He couldn’t blame Penny for cutting him out of her life, knowing the man who’d returned to her hadn’t been the man she’d loved, but if she couldn’t love the new him, who would?
Remote, she’d called him. Remote, detached, and morose.
He hadn’t liked the morose with its undertones of brooding, but the remote bit had really got to him. It was a word that sounded unpleasant. It could never be used to describe Jo. He’d seen her angry, and snappish, and competently assured as she’d knelt by the injured moped driver. He’d even seen the shadows of sadness in her face, but she was always involved—ready with an opinion, seeking new ideas.
Remote suggested a detachment from the world, and for sure it was one of the symptoms of PTSD that he had been able to tick. On leaving the army, he’d felt as if the world he’d returned to was a parallel universe and he was rudderless in it. He’d been on the outside, looking in, aware that none of the people around him could, in their wildest dreams, have imagined what he’d seen and been through.
The strange thing was that he didn’t feel that way now. Maybe it was the surf at Crystal Cove clearing his head, but the idea of starting a support group had stirred something akin to excitement in him, and he was looking forward to doing some research on IVF treatments for older women.
Looking forward to helping people?
Getting involved?
He wasn’t sure what had caused the change, but though he might be on the right track he suspected he had a lot more healing to do before he could think in terms of a relationship with a woman.
Although Jo obviously had her own baggage—her sister’s death, for a start.
Could two wounded souls somehow help each other heal?
He remembered how her eyes had looked—clear green pools—and his body stirred in a way that was totally inappropriate as a reaction to one’s boss, however temporary his employment might be …
‘I HADN’T realised how much more quickly we’d get through the day with two doctors.’
Jo had been chatting to the receptionist when Cam showed his final patient out. Now she walked with him back along the hall.
‘I phoned Lauren, who runs the refuge, earlier. The two families who are living there at the moment are having a “treat night” tonight, which means there’s no one at the house. We could go over later if that suits you. You could see the place and talk to Lauren about how it works and also about the men’s programme. Funding is always difficult—sometimes impossible. Originally we got the bequest to set up the refuge, but that’s not enough to keep it going these days so poor Lauren gets bits and pieces from different government agencies. One of the local service clubs has it as their main charity, but I can’t promise you’d be paid for running a men’s programme, although if you start it while you’re working for me, but then … ‘
She stopped and looked up at him, a worried frown knitting her eyebrows.
‘Of course you don’t have to come with me, you might prefer to go surfing or have other stuff you want to do but—’
‘Jo!’
Cam held up his hands as he said her name—a placating gesture, not surrender.
‘Calm down. We can’t change the entire world right now. Let’s take it one step at a time. I’m more than happy to go with you to see the refuge, and seeing it when no one’s there is an excellent idea. Do I have time for a quick shower and change of clothes before we go?’
She was staring at him, a bewildered look on her face, then he watched as she gathered herself together, shaking her head just slightly as if to get everything back into place.
‘I never blather on like that!’ she said, her tone so accusing he had to laugh.
‘Blathering’s okay,’ he assured her, but the worried look on her face told him she didn’t believe him. He diverted her by repeating his question.
‘Shower?’
‘Of course,’ she said, but he guessed it had been an automatic response, her mind still occupied by the blather business.
Jo was glad he’d left as soon as she’d agreed they had time to freshen up, because now, maybe, she could sort out what was