was back in Port Cavill to stay-at least for the year-long term of his contract.
But perhaps that was why.
Port Cavill. The scene of his first medical failure.
‘Are we nearly there?’ His daughter’s sulky voice interrupted his dark thoughts.
‘Not far, Allie.’ He rolled his neck, feeling the tiredness and tension in his muscles.
‘Alexis,’ she corrected with all the disdain a ten-year-old could muster.
Luke stifled a sigh. He wasn’t popular and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
Except get on a plane back to England.
Even the weather conspired to make things unpleasant. The earlier sunny heat had given way to oppressive humidity, which the car’s air-conditioning was struggling to cope with. Glowering banks of cloud still pressed down with the threat of more rain to come.
He studied Allie’s sullen profile and debated whether to point out again that they’d only be here for a year. Long enough for him to help his father get back on his feet. Long enough to seem like a lifetime in a child’s eyes. Times like this he longed for Sue-Ellen’s wise counsel. But his wife, Allie’s mother, had been buried two years ago. So loving, so giving. And too damned young to die.
‘That person on the bike’s waving at you, Dad. Who is it?’
He looked in the direction of Allie’s pointing finger.
‘I don’t know.’
The pillion passenger began pulling at the rider’s shoulder until the person must have retaliated with an admonition to keep still. Catching Allie’s eye, Luke smiled. ‘Kind of hard to tell with that helmet on, isn’t it?’
His daughter shrugged, letting him know a moment of shared humour couldn’t woo her.
The lights changed and the bike pulled away sedately enough to merge into his lane ahead. Following slowly, he allowed the distance to stretch because of the wet road. The pillion passenger turned to check behind. Luke shook his head in irritation. The action would shift the weight, unbalance the bike. He felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor rider.
Movement from a side road caught his peripheral vision. A car fishtailed into the intersection.
Heart pounding, hands clenched on the steering-wheel, he waited for the inevitable disaster. Suddenly the rider reacted, the brake light flicked on.
‘Too late,’ Luke muttered. ‘Counter-steer.’
A split second later, the rider obeyed his command. Relief quickly swooped into despair as the wheels skidded precariously on the slick surface.
In the time it took for rider to control the bike, graphic memories of another, less fortunate motorcycle leapt out of the past to assault him. A battered racer, twisted metal. The smell of hot tar and spilled petrol.
The smell of blood.
His cousin’s moans of pain.
A line of sweat chilled Luke’s upper lip as he remembered the helplessness. The hopelessness when he’d realised the extent of Kevin’s injuries. Nausea rolled through his stomach.
Super-sensitised now to the progress of the bike and the actions of the cars around it, Luke could feel irrational, burning anger growing. He’d successfully suppressed the anguish for the thirteen years since the accident. Now in the blink of an instant it was all there, raw and powerful.
He wished the rider would turn off so he could stop worrying about them but they were travelling inexorably in the same direction. Slowing more, he let the distance widen, until several other cars filled the gap.
By the time he got to his turn-off, they’d disappeared.
Relief was short-lived. He turned into his parents’ driveway to see the bike parked on the gravel.
Still helmeted and astride the machine, the rider seemed to be delivering a well-deserved lecture to the dismounted pillion passenger.
‘That’s Aunty Megan,’ said Allie.
Hell! Luke clenched his jaw as a cold chill swept his body. What was his baby sister doing hooning around Port Cavill on the back of a bloody motorcycle?
‘Stay here,’ he ordered his daughter as he flicked his seat-belt catch off.
He stalked towards the pair at the bike, relishing the thought of tearing strips off them after the fright they’d given him.
‘Luke!’ Megan launched herself at him, enveloping him in an enthusiastic hug. He clamped her close, intensely thankful for her vitality and safety. Determined to make sure she stayed that way. ‘We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.’
‘We came straight through from the airport,’ he said after a moment. Holding her away from him, he frowned. ‘Your bad luck I was here to see that stunt you and your friend here pulled back in town. You think I want to spend my first day home scraping you two off the road?’
‘Oh, don’t you start, too.’ Megan threw her hands up. ‘Terri was just going off at me about it.’
‘Yeah?’ Luke aimed a black look at the rider. ‘Maybe he’ll think twice before he takes you on the bike again.’
‘But Terri’s-’
‘In fact, let’s make that official.’ God, he’d been back in town for less than half an hour and he was already standing toe to toe with his sister. Part of his anger was tiredness. But most of it was fear. If he had the power to prevent it, he wasn’t going to lose another member of his family.
And this was definitely within his power. ‘You’re grounded.’
‘Honestly, Luke!’ Megan planted her hands on her hips.
‘Does Mum know what you’re up to?’
‘I’m nearly eighteen.’ Her chin jutted defiance as she glared at him.
‘Is that a no?’
‘No, it’s not a
‘She will after I’ve spoken to her,’ he said grimly.
‘But Terri’s a really careful rider.’
‘Too bad. I don’t want to see you on the back of this bike, any bike, again.’ He directed a narrow-eyed look at the rider.
Brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black, watched him. The hint of wry amusement in them had him clenching his jaw against a scathing comment.
The motorcyclist took off the padded gloves and began fiddling with the helmet strap.
Luke was reluctantly impressed that the boy was prepared to stay in the face of the conflict. ‘Look, Terry, this is a family argument. You don’t want to get involved, mate. All you need to know is Megan’s off the social circuit until further notice. There’s no point hanging around.’
‘Gee. That’s going to be kind of tough, Luke,’ said Megan smugly. ‘Since you guys are going to be working together.’
‘What?’ He turned on his sister. ‘You mean Mum’s letting you go out with one of the hospital staff?’
‘One of the doctors.’ The sly look she slanted him should have been a warning. ‘Terri’s taught me heaps.’
Luke felt his anger crank up several notches.
‘That’s a recommendation I can do without,’ said a husky feminine voice beside him.
The tirade he’d been about to unleash faltered on his tongue.
The rider slipped off the helmet and balanced it on the handlebars. Long black hair slithered over the protective leather jacket as the woman dismounted and turned to face him.
‘Hello, Luke. Long time, no see.’
‘Terri?’ He gaped, his stunned brain struggling to put the name together with the evidence before his eyes. ‘Theresa O’Connor.’
‘Close enough. How are you?’ She held out a hand and he stared at it stupidly for a long moment.
‘Bloody hell. Theresa O’Connor.’ He used her hand to tug her into a hug. It was quick, lasting only a second. Meant to be social, asexual. Nothing to precipitate the volcanic heat that swept through him.
He swallowed and set her away at arm’s length.
Her continued stillness, her composure, unsettled him out of all proportion. Especially the small smile curving
