Prognosis Incompatible
Amy Andrews
Published by Amy Andrews, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
PROGNOSIS INCOMPATIBLE
First edition. September 9, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Amy Andrews.
Written by Amy Andrews.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Dear Reader Letter
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
PROGNOSIS CHRISTMAS BABY
MORE BOOKS FROM AMY ANDREWS
This book was previously published as An Unexpected Proposal.
Please note Australian/UK spelling used throughout.
Dear Reader Letter
Dear Reader,
Opposites attract. That’s what they say, isn’t it? As a writer, this is a fascinating premise. What if two people, complete opposites in every way, were attracted to each other—does the attraction win out despite the differences?
Out of this foundation, Madeline and Marcus emerged.
Conservative, in control Maddy. A gorgeous, career-focused woman who knows what she wants out of life. A job that she loves and marriage with two point four kids.
And Marcus. The complete opposite. Sexy, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants, thrill-seeking, footloose and fancy-free, Marcus. Sworn off marriage for life and perfectly happy to always play “the uncle.”
Then I asked the question — what if? What if I threw them together? What if I gave them two vastly different jobs that were philosophically incompatible: conventional versus alternative medicine? Such a hotly debated topic and one with two very passionate and opposite camps, especially in the guise of Madeline and Marcus.
The only thing these two have in common when their worlds collide is an inexplicable instantaneous attraction.
Marcus is everything Madeline doesn’t want, but all she needs. Madeline is everything Marcus most definitely wants, but does a footloose, fancy-free man really need any woman?
Woohoo! It’s a hot time in an old Brisbane town when these two clash swords. I hope you enjoy their story and rejoice in their triumph over their differences to prove love really does conquer all.
Love,
Amy xxx
CHAPTER ONE
MADELINE HARRINGTON was grateful for the air-conditioning in her car as she pulled up at the roadworks. There was heavy earthmoving machinery blocking the way and, as the heat rose in visible waves off the black tar of the road, she’d never been more pleased to have an indoor job. The worker holding the stop sign looked hot and sweaty, his skin an unhealthy weathered brown.
Skin cancer just waiting to happen.
It was hard to believe, watching Brisbane shimmer in the afternoon sun, that she’d been in the throes of a British winter only twenty-four hours ago. Jackets and gloves and woollen hats. As she’d flown out of Heathrow the temperature had just managed to struggle into positive figures.
If London had been a fridge, Brisbane felt like a furnace!
Maddy yawned and shut her eyes briefly as the overwhelming fatigue of jet lag took hold. She sighed as it gathered her into its folds but fought her way out again a minute later, rubbing her eyes to ease the grittiness. The road blockage didn’t look like it was going to clear any time soon and she desperately wanted a shower.
Wanted her bed.
Her gaze wandered to the neighbourhood skate park where teenagers rode their skateboards up and down the curved cement walls. The doctor in her saw all the horrible possibilities but the uncoordinated female admired their skill and lack of fear.
A man entered her line of vision, expertly negotiating the bumps and ramps and shooting up off the wall, his skateboard staying miraculously attached to his feet even in mid-air, and landing again like he was riding a wave instead of unforgiving concrete. He was at least twenty years older than the other riders but somehow managed not to look ridiculous despite the age difference.
He was wearing a raggedy pair of cut-off denim shorts and nothing else. His chest was magnificent, tanned, the abdominal muscles well defined — cut, wasn’t that what it was called these days? He pirouetted perfectly, one end of the board in the air, the other grounded, and her eyes were drawn downwards to his powerful quads flexing and straining to maintain balance.
She could see the hairs covering his legs were dark brown even from this distance. A smattering of the same covered his pecs and narrowed to a fine trail that disappeared behind the waistband of his shorts. His head, too, was crowned with brown hair, short around the back and sides and longer on top.
Why wasn’t he wearing a helmet? Macho idiot.
He looked like the stereotypical bronzed Aussie, at home in the outdoors, kicking a footy or surfing. Except today his choice of wave was concrete instead of water. Maybe he was some kind of adrenaline junkie — any wave would do?
The thought horrified Maddy almost as much as it fascinated. How would it be to spend your life bumming around skate parks? Or the beach? No responsibilities. No worries. No patients to see. No lives to be responsible for. No beepers. No mobile phones.
But wait...he appeared to be with a little boy who looked about six or seven. His son? There were definite similarities between the two. The boy looked at him with total admiration and the man ruffled his hair as he helped him on his skateboard. He stood back as the boy performed a trick and clapped loudly as he successfully completed it.
At least the kid was wearing a helmet.
The man lifted the boy up on his shoulders and spun him around. The kid held on and laughed, his head thrown back, the sunshine accentuating his exhilaration.
Madeline felt a weird pull low down. The man had dimples. He was gorgeous! Pure male. One hundred per cent testosterone. The boy obviously loved him and strangely enough that made him even more attractive.
Looking at him made Maddy...restless and a feeling that something was seriously missing from her life reared its ugly head.
God! She must be tired. Since when had overtly masculine dudes been her type? Spoken for ones at that? She returned her attention to the roadworks, suddenly desperate to get away from this inexplicable transient attraction, but the red stop sign was still stubbornly facing her way.
Resisting for only a beat or two
