The War Hero's Locked-Away Heart. Louisa George
Yes, she was. For saying anything, and now she had to follow through. ‘Or you’ll get a reputation.’ She waved, trying to cover her cringing with a smile.
Before she said anything else equally as embarrassing she clicked her brain back to mothering mode and mentally checked off her evening to-do list—dinner, washing, laundry. Then the luxury of adventure-planning—visas, itinerary and packing. Nowhere in there was space for focus on grumpy mysterious strangers with abs to die for.
She watched Adam take off his jacket, revealing his bare torso again, and the tiny tattoo—a black and yellow dragonfly, she’d discovered—before climbing into his dusty truck. And she had the strangest feeling she needed to keep well away from Adam Miller’s tortured body, naked or not.
CHAPTER TWO
THREE days into the job and Adam had started to get twitchy. The view of the inside of the ambulance station was getting old. He eased the muscles in his shoulders, stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. ‘At what point do I actually get on the road and do something?’
‘Today’s your lucky day.’ Dan opened the ambulance cab door and climbed in. ‘The paperwork’s over, and your induction complete. Once we’ve finished the checks we’re good to go.’
‘Great. Bring it on.’ Adam exhaled deeply, finished his supply checks and stared at the cab radio, willing it to spring into life. Not that he was itching to get his hands on sick people, more that he needed something to keep his mind occupied. It had been too long since he’d done anything useful. Four long years in a jittery guilt-fuelled wilderness. Until he’d realised that feeling sorry for himself didn’t honour the memory of the people he’d lost. That action eased the pain of survival.
And being busy would keep his mind off dark, steamy eyes and tantalising curves. Starting the job for real would focus him on his true intent: getting on with the rest of his life. At least he could. There were others less lucky. He owed those not here any more a grab at a decent life, when theirs had been ripped away.
‘Here we go.’ Dan flicked the receiver as a crackly call came through. ‘Your wish is my command.’ He waited until Adam belted in then started the vehicle. ‘Eighty-four-year-old female with shortness of breath. We’re about twenty minutes away.’
‘Twenty minutes for an SOB?’ Adam bit back a surge of frustration. ‘How sick is she going to be when we finally reach her?’
‘Most of our time is spent getting to and from the patients and then to and from the hospital. The first responder gets there first, if they’re available, and gives us a call if we’re needed. That’s country medicine for you. We do the best we can. Anything too serious gets choppered to Auckland. Hold on.’ Dan revved up the engine and pulled away from the ambulance station.
Adam nodded. ‘This is going to take a bit of getting used to.’
‘Hardly front-line stuff here. Hope you don’t find it too slow?’
‘I’m looking for slow. Slow’s good.’ There had been times when he wouldn’t have cared. Slow. Fast. Live. Die. But he’d dragged himself back from that bleak darkness and was determined to leave the past alone. Slow seemed a pretty good start. Slow meant he could take in his surroundings, appreciate the beauty of now. Try to live in the moment. ‘I needed a change of scenery. Driving around this countryside is good for my soul.’
‘You’ve got to admit it’s a cool place to live.’ Dan pointed to the undulating, bush-clad hills and the deep turquoise ocean as they passed yet another secluded deserted cove. ‘Such awesome views. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. Must make a change to the army?’
‘Yeah.’ Adam chewed his cheek as his gut kicked. As soon as anyone ever mentioned the army he was bombarded with questions. Inevitable, really. But civilians only thought of the danger and the guns. They couldn’t understand how hard it was to talk about what he’d seen. What he’d done. What he needed to leave behind. If only it was that easy. His past had a nasty habit of creeping up on him, in the middle of the night usually, snatching away sleep and leaving him ice cold.
Dan glanced over and Adam waited for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long. ‘You seen any real action?’
‘Sure. Plenty.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I was deployed in the hotspots—Iraq, Afghanistan, the places you’ve heard about but you won’t be getting a postcard from any time soon. Then I was in Timor-Leste just before …’ He paused. Closed down the memories. ‘Before I left.’
Dan shot him a look that said I won’t ask.
Adam was grateful for the reprieve, although he did think briefly about explaining. But, hell, he’d decided that the sooner he stopped thinking about what had happened, the sooner he’d be able to move on in his life.
The ambulance sped down the highway past the Atanga Bay turn-off. He craned his neck to look for the bright yellow medical centre. And some hint of Skye. Then realised he was being stupid.
What did he need with Little Miss Happy with a passport burning a hole in her pocket? Getting involved with her would be a quick path to disaster.
But he couldn’t deny an attraction had been there. Something had stirred in him that he’d thought was forever dormant. Thought he’d seen it in her eyes too.
So it was definitely not something to pursue.
He didn’t believe in some saccharin, happy-ever-after fairy-tale dream. Not after the failure of his marriage. Not when the scars of his fallen brothers criss-crossed his heart.
Stop. His hands fisted against his seat as he reaffirmed his resolve to look forward. Looking back never achieved anything but emotional whiplash.
He focused instead on the grand colonial buildings flanking the road, the flower-festooned gardens and the acres of fields stretching out east and west from the main road. A far cry from war-torn cities with bullet-pocked buildings and the smell of death.
He sucked in sea-scented fresh air and watched palm trees sway in the gentle breeze. Living here would definitely be the tonic he’d been searching for. Once the local practice nurse had gone and his equilibrium was restored.
One SOB, a broken femur and a road traffic accident later, Adam found himself in front of Atanga Bay surgery. Confused, he turned to Dan. ‘You got lost, mate? The station’s back that way.’
His colleague shrugged. ‘I just have a quick social call to make. Come in? I’ll introduce you to the gang. It’ll serve you well to get to know the local medical centres and it’s a home from home here.’
Adam paused, his refusal hovering on his lips. The last few years on the move had taught him that life was easier if he kept his head down and himself to himself. People wanted to know too much, expected him to give too much.
But Dan waited with an eyebrow cocked. As a newbie to the service, turning him down would look strange. ‘Sure.’
‘Hi, Dan! Adam.’
Of course Skye was there. Standing in Reception as they walked in, a stethoscope hung from her neck. The dark navy uniform gave her the appearance of the true professional Adam knew she was. He got a whiff of perfume. Something with vanilla. Subtle. An uplifting fragrance that matched her demeanour. Intoxicating. And way off limits.
‘Coffee’s in the percolator. There’s freshly made flapjacks in the tartan tin. Go on. You know you want to.’ She beamed up at them both and then focused on Adam. ‘Hardly recognised you with your clothes on.’
He swallowed deeply. This is work. Be friendly. Make an effort when others can’t. ‘Thought I should wear something for the day job. Didn’t want to give the patients apoplexy.’ Heat prickled the back of his neck. He ran his fingers over the knots there as if easing out the tension would help with the knot in his