Waking Up With His Runaway Bride. Louisa George
he just needed to get the job done, then out. Unscathed and unburdened. And having her right here in his space was not going to work.
He scraped his chair across the faded pink carpet. ‘Okay, scoot. Get out of my hair. I need to concentrate. There’s a lot of paperwork to get through. I’ll call you when I need you.’
She nodded, her finger darting from her neck to her mouth. ‘One quick question.’
‘You are insufferable.’ But, then, he’d always known that, and it hadn’t made a difference to loving her. He held up two fingers. ‘Two seconds then you have to leave. Okay?’
‘Okay, boss. I just wondered—first impressions?’ She looked at him through a thick fringe. Her eyes accentuated by the matching chocolate hair colour. Rich and thick. Frustration melted into something more dangerous.
Maybe running his fingers through couldn’t hurt …
First impressions? Sexy as hell.
‘That’s going to take a heck of a lot longer than two seconds. And you might not like it.’ He pulled his gaze away. Tried to find something positive to say before he hit her with the unassailable truth. Kiss-kick-kiss. Perhaps then she’d leave. When he’d broken her heart with his first impression. ‘I’ve scanned through the Imms register and I’m surprised.’
She looked expectantly at him. ‘Good surprised?’
‘Come on, Mim, I’m just starting. I’ve hardly had a chance to get my head around things. There’s a lot of work to be done yet, but your immunisation rates are outstanding. Big tick for that.’
Pride swelled her voice. ‘Every time I see a patient I remind them about imms. So important.’
‘Admirable.’
She was trying so hard to impress he almost felt sorry for her. But for their history. He ran a hand over the window-sill and showed her the peeling flecks of yellow paint. Now for the kick.
‘But the structure and organisational processes leave a lot to be desired. Your intentions are good, but from where I’m standing it’s a shabby practice in the middle of a rundown township. I’m hoping I’m going to find some better news in your business plans and policies.’
‘Of course, policies, your hobby horse. Don’t hold your breath. Not really my strong suit. But …’
‘I know, it’s a work in progress. That might not be good enough. Perhaps we should do this in a year or so, once you’ve had time to prepare in accordance with the guidelines.’
She visibly flinched and he briefly wished he could take it back.
But he wasn’t there to protect her. He was there to do an objective assessment as a representative of a local authority. ‘Routines and regulations make things run smoothly. Save lives in the long run. Without them people get lost. Accidents happen. People die.’
Janey. The armour round his heart quivered then clenched tight at the thought of his sister. No point trying to explain to Mim. What would she care? He wasn’t inclined to share his motives with an untrustworthy ex-girlfriend. However sinfully sexy. ‘I said I’d be honest.’
She turned back to him, eyes now firing with determination. The old Mim shone through. She may have been subdued, but she was there simmering in the background.
‘Okay, so, Dana’s Drop-In might not be conventional, it’s not standardised and faceless like your fancy chrome Auckland offices. I admit I need processes. But it will work, Connor. What did you say about potential?’
‘I was talking about Atanga Bay in general, not this place.’ Grateful for the clash of swords and not sentiment, he began to relax. ‘Bowling it and starting again would fix a lot. But you always were … how did my father put it? Odd.’
‘I might be odd by your father’s standards, but my style works out here. You love a challenge, Connor. Dig deeper, and see what I can see.’
‘Er …? Sorry to interrupt, Mim …’ The goth with the pierced nose arrived in the room. Perhaps she was all Mim had been able to get out here.
‘There’s been an accident up at Two Rivers. Details are sketchy, but it seems there’s been an explosion and a fire. Tony’s bringing the walking wounded here. Four or five so far, I think.’
Mim nodded. The fire in her eyes was replaced with a calm, steely precision. Professional and businesslike. ‘Thanks, Skye. I’ll be right there.’
Connor jumped up, adrenalin kicking deep. ‘I’ll help. Sounds like it could be busy.’
‘That’s kind of you.’ Mim smiled softly, gazed the length of his body. Heat swept through him on a tidal wave, prickling his veins and firing dormant cells to full alert, taking him by surprise. He’d expected a vague flicker of awareness, but not full fireworks sparking through his body.
‘But we’ll be fine here at the coalface. Why don’t you go back to your paperwork? We don’t want to get that lovely suit dirty, do we?’
CHAPTER TWO
TO MIM’S infinite irritation, Connor appeared unfazed by her barbed comment. He stared her down, then shook out of his jacket and rolled his Italian cotton shirtsleeves up. Sparks flew from his onyx eyes.
‘Mim, you never worried about getting down and dirty before. What’s changed? Frightened you might get burnt?’ He threw the jacket onto the desk. ‘I’m not going to sit back while there’s a major incident unfolding. I’ll go up there and see if I can help.’
‘What are you going to do? Waft the fire out with your questionnaire?’
He visibly bristled but the sensual flare in his eyes spelled trouble. Connor had always loved sparring with her. Said she was the most fiery woman he’d ever met. That it was the biggest turn-on ever. Some things hadn’t changed. He smiled confidently, inviting more. Seemed they couldn’t help firing incendiary shots back and forth even after three years. ‘It would work better than all that hot air you’re generating.’
‘You haven’t changed a jot, Connor Wiseman. Still as bloody-minded as ever. But right now I’m sure the firefighters don’t need a do-gooder city slicker hindering their work.’
She walked up the corridor, sucked in a breath and tried to concentrate on one disaster at a time. Priority: bush fire. Lives at risk. And he followed, clearly undeterred.
She stopped in Reception and explained to him, ‘There’s a campsite not far from Two Rivers. It’s been a long, dry summer and the bush is brittle. A fire could get out of hand pretty quickly. As I’m community warden, and the only med centre for miles, protocol states they bring the injured here. It’s safer and out of the line of fire.’
Protocol. He’d like that.
‘So we stay here for now. You’ll need all the help you can get.’
‘We need to be ready. Dressing packs and oxygen cylinders are in the treatment rooms, there’s labels on the drawers and shelves. It should be self-explanatory.’ She paused as sirens screeched past the surgery towards the new development.
Time hadn’t diminished his bombastic streak. Connor still went hell for leather along his own path without taking much notice of what anyone else had to say. But he was right, she didn’t have the luxury of turning away another pair of skilled hands in an emergency.
‘We also have a walk-in clinic running at the moment, which is always busy Monday mornings. Sure you can handle this, city boy? Things could get messy.’
To her surprise, his smile widened. Irritating and frustratingly appealing all at the same time. He stepped closer, his breath grazing her neck. Making the hairs on her neck prickle to attention.
‘Is that a threat, Mim? Or a promise?’
‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep.’