City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

He flexed his shoulders, feeling the old weight of his dereliction. ‘We’d argued about his recklessness. Kevin rode as though he was immortal.’ He lifted his eyes back to hers. ‘Hell, I suppose we both did. He didn’t even make it through the first bend. I saw him hit the car head on.’

‘Oh, Luke.’ He could hear her distress, felt unexpectedly soothed by the knowledge it was for him.

‘I grew up after that.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She put her hand on his arm.

He stared down into her eyes for a long second, feeling his heart twist. ‘Still got that soft heart, haven’t you, Terri? I know it wasn’t my fault…now. At the time…’ He shrugged.

After a moment, he reached out to stroke her cheek, her skin soft and cool beneath his fingertips. She shivered and desire punched into him, shortening his breath, tightening his gut.

Would she resist if he pulled her close? Folded her into his body? Covered her lips with his?

Finished what they’d started all those years ago. Right here. Right now.

The connection stretched. Then she snatched her hand back, removing it from his elbow, and folded her arms.

He dragged in a huge breath and took a mental step back. ‘You’re cold. We should go in.’

‘Yes.’ Head down, she made a beeline for the trees at the top of the beach. Almost as though she was trying to escape. Had she sensed the desperation with which he’d held himself in check?

He smiled grimly. Surely if she had, she’d be running.

The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. Touching her had created a tension that hadn’t dissipated even though the physical link had broken.

‘So how are you settling in? And Alexis?’ Terri sounded slightly out of breath. Still because of him? Or was it the cracking pace she’d set?

He grasped at her change of subject, relieved one of them was functioning above waist level.

‘Okay.’ He thought of yesterday’s asthma attack and the dramatics which had preceded it. ‘Allie says I’ve blighted her young life by dragging her halfway around the world to the back of beyond. She wanted me to leave her behind with one of her friends.’

‘She must miss them,’ Terri said softly.

‘We’re only here for a year. She’ll make new friends if she gives herself the chance.’ He was dismayed by the defensiveness he could hear in his voice in reaction to Terri’s gentle compassion for his daughter. Frustration mixed with self-disgust. At least talking about this took his mind off the other source of frustration walking up the sandy path ahead of him. Though not entirely. Even in the dim light, he could see Terri’s slender hips swaying in her pale jeans.

‘What are her hobbies?’

‘Hobbies? Oh, hobbies. Yes.’ God, get a grip, man. What were his daughter’s hobbies? ‘Soccer. She plays soccer.’

‘There’s a junior soccer league she can join.’

He reached up to push a low branch out of the way. ‘Actually, that’s a damned good idea. Thanks.’

‘A year’s a long time when you’re her age,’ she said a few steps later.

‘It’ll be a bloody long time when you’re my age if she’s going to sulk for the whole time.’

Terri chuckled.

‘Thanks for the sympathy,’ he muttered, holding back a self-deprecating smile.

‘Sorry. I’m not really laughing at you.’ Kind humour mixed with the understanding in her soft words. ‘It must be difficult for both of you.’

‘Mmm. I’m only being spoken to when she can’t avoid it. The way she’s behaving I’ll need to get her intensive counselling to recover. Maybe I should book some for myself while I’m at it.’ He was making light of the situation but his heart was weighed down by the knowledge of his daughter’s unhappiness. There was no way around it. He was committed to helping his father for this year.

‘I’m sure you’ll work it out.’ Terri stepped onto the veranda of the cottage. ‘Well, this is my stop.’

He should go but her obvious relief made him push his welcome. Just for a few minutes more. A chance to work on his familiarity plan, give it another opportunity to kick in. Besides, he needed the small respite before facing the tension back at the house. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.’

Her pleased look faded. He suppressed a smile and waited.

‘Wouldn’t you?’ She turned her head slightly as though she made a quick inventory of the rooms. It made him wonder what she didn’t want him to see, but all she said was, ‘You’d better come in, then.’

‘Thanks.’

They wiped the sand off their feet at the door.

‘It’ll just be instant,’ she said, glancing at him as he followed her into the compact kitchen.

In the artificial light, he clearly saw the purple-blue smudges forming under both her eyes and a faint bruise on the bridge of her nose.

‘Coffee.’ She froze with the jar clutched to her chest as he stepped closer. ‘What are you doing?’

‘How’s your nose?’ Cupping her face, he tilted it to the light. Her carotid pulse jumped against the edge of his hands. Masculine satisfaction surged through him.

‘Fine.’

‘No sign of any problems after last night?’ Her skin felt soft and smooth beneath his finger tips.

‘No. None.’ She scowled. ‘Have you finished?’

Was he? His gaze dropped to her mouth. If he leaned forward, just a little, he would discover if reality was as delicious as his memories of their kiss. Temptation wrestled with good sense.

Then the opportunity was gone as Terri pulled back out of his light hold.

‘You won’t get your coffee unless you get out of my kitchen,’ she said tartly. ‘Why don’t you sit at the table?’

He stifled a sigh and retreated, slipping onto one of the chairs and allowing himself to follow her with his eyes. Watching her was like indulging in a visual feast. Filling the jug, getting out the mugs, spooning in the coffee. Commonplace, everyday things.

But there was nothing commonplace about his reaction. He shifted on the chair, easing the snugness of his jeans. To take his mind off her, he looked around the room. Ochre walls made the little room cheerful. At the end of the bench a distressed dresser displayed an eclectic collection of china. The cupboards had been stripped back and varnished to show off the warm grain of Baltic pine.

‘You’ve made the place nice. A vast improvement on when I lived here.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled slightly and switched off the jug. ‘I must admit I prefer butterscotch paint to wall-to-wall centrefolds.’

‘God, were they still up?’ An unexpected wave of self-consciousness threatened to heat his face as though he was an awkward adolescent.

‘Every single anatomically enhanced one of them.’ She slid him a cheeky look. ‘If I’d known you were coming back I could have saved them for you.’

He snorted, his momentary embarrassment evaporating. ‘I like my women more natural these days.’ Like you. The unspoken words reverberated in his head.

She smirked at him, obviously comfortable again now that he was at a distance. The devil in him wanted to see that composure shaken again, to know that he wasn’t the only one affected by this inconvenient attraction. ‘There’s another reason why I was so hard on you that night on the beach.’

She eyed him warily. ‘There was?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he drawled. ‘I fancied the pants off you.’

‘No!’ Her mouth opened in a perfect circle of shock. She blinked at him then burst out laughing. Nervous laughter that only lasted for a moment before she stopped and stared at him again.

‘Yes.’ He grinned, enjoying her reaction.

‘Oh, come on.’ Her movements were jerky as she turned back to the bench to pick up a spoon. The staccato clatter of metal on china filled the room. He could imagine her marshalling her defences. After a moment, she said, ‘You barely knew who I was.’

‘Oh, I knew all right,’ he murmured as she turned with the hot drinks in her hand. The only sign remaining of