Emergency Doctor and Cinderella. Melanie Milburne

felt the probe of his gaze and had to work hard to maintain eye contact. Something about him made her feel exposed. Even though she had only met him the day before, that intelligent, penetrating gaze of his had a habit of catching her off guard. He was seeing things she didn’t want him to see, things she had fought hard to keep hidden. She liked her life in its neat little compartments, but she felt as if he was threatening her stronghold, insisting on her being someone she was not, nor ever could be. ‘I’m not interested in winning the latest popularity contest,’ she said. ‘If people don’t like me, I don’t let it worry me. I have better things to do with my time.’

      ‘Do you live alone, apart from your cat?’ he asked.

      Erin frowned. ‘I thought we were here to discuss issues to do with work, not my private life.’

      Eamon draped one arm over the back of the chair that was next to his; his gaze continued to hold hers. ‘Sometimes one’s private life can have an impact on their professional one.’

      She gave him an arch look. ‘Sometimes one’s boss can put his nose where it is not welcome.’

      Eamon felt his lips flicker with a smile. ‘I’m not just your boss, Dr Taylor, I am also your neighbour. That blurs the boundaries a bit, don’t you think?’

      ‘Not for me,’ she said with a flinty glare.

      He leaned forward again, his eyes still locked on hers. ‘As I said earlier, I don’t like the heavy-handed approach, but if it’s called for I am not afraid to use it. If you don’t lift your game, I will have to take appropriate action.’

      She eyeballed him back. ‘If you want to fire me, go right ahead, but if you do I’ll have the unfair-dismissal commission on your back before you can say Code Blue.’

      Eamon felt a rush of blood to his groin at her feisty words. She was like a spitting cat, all claws and hiss, making him want to tame that wild streak by pressing his own mouth to her snarling one. He wondered if anyone had been game enough to come within touching distance of her. She sent out keep-away-from-me vibes like soundwaves. For some reason he found that incredibly attractive. His three younger sisters would think he was crazy taking on someone like Erin Taylor; they were hanging out for a sweet sister-in-law they could take shopping and do girly things with. Somehow he couldn’t see the pintsized Dr Taylor with her touch-me-not glare and barbed tongue going down too well with his touchy-feely family.

      ‘Eamon?’ A high female voice sounded from behind their table.

      Erin turned her head to see one of the nurses from the surgical ward approaching, bringing with her a wave of heady perfume that irritated Erin’s nostrils.

      ‘Hi, Sherrie,’ Eamon, said, rising to his feet and sweeping the woman into a brief, hard hug. He held her from him to look down at her flushed features. ‘How’re you doing? I’ve been meaning to call you, but things have been pretty crazy since I got back from London.’

      ‘Don’t worry about it,’ the woman called Sherrie said, with a beaming smile. ‘Gosh, you look fabulous. Jet lag and hard work must suit you.’

      Eamon gave a self-deprecating smile before turning to introduce Erin. ‘Sherrie, do you know Dr Erin Taylor from A&E?’

      Sherrie held out her hand. ‘No, I don’t think we’ve met properly. I’ve seen you around, though. Nice to meet you.’

      Erin briefly placed her hand in the other woman’s before pulling away. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You too.’

      ‘So…’ Sherrie turned back to Eamon. ‘When are you free for a meal or a drink or something? Where are you staying? Have you bought a house or an apartment?’

      Eamon grinned at the barrage of questions, holding up his hands as if to ward them off. ‘One at a time, Sherrie. Yes, a meal would be great, and I’m renting my mate Tim Yeoman’s apartment in Mosman until the renovations are completed on my house at Balmoral Beach. Tim’s still on sabbatical in Edinburgh.’

      Sherrie took a pen out of her uniform pocket and scribbled her number and address on a napkin from the table. She handed it to him and smiled. ‘Here are my details,’ she said. ‘I’ve changed my number since I last saw you. Call me any time. It will be great to hear all about your time in the UK.’

      Eamon folded the napkin and put it in the breast pocket of his shirt. ‘Thanks, Sherrie; I’ll see what I can do for next week. I’m still unpacking, otherwise I’d organise something sooner.’

      ‘No problem,’ Sherrie said, and glanced at her watch. ‘Oops. Gotta dash. I’m meant to be in Surg A by now. Congratulations on the new job, Eamon. You’re exactly what this place needs to whip it into shape.’ She turned and smiled at Erin. ‘See you around, Erica.’

      ‘Erin,’ Erin corrected her.

      ‘Oh, sorry, I’mhopeless with names.’ And then, with another beaming smile aimed at Eamon, Sherrie left.

      Erin pushed her half-drunk latte away. ‘A love interest of yours?’ she asked.

      He sat back down and drained the contents of his cup before he answered. ‘We dated a couple of times a few years ago. Nothing too serious, and fortunately we managed to remain friends after we called it quits.’

      ‘It looks to me like she would like a re-run,’ Erin said, not quite able to stop herself from sounding slightly churlish.

      One of his dark brows lifted. ‘Is that feminine intuition or something else?’

      She was the first to shift her gaze. ‘What else could it be?’ she asked. ‘You’re not exactly my type.’

      ‘Oh really?’ he said. ‘What is your type?’

      Erin wished she hadn’t started the conversation. She could feel her colour rising as the silence stretched and stretched. How could she answer such a question? She didn’t have a type. She didn’t even have a social life. She had a cat and a career and a cartload of reasons to keep her life as simple as possible. ‘I have to get going,’ she said, making a show of looking at her watch. ‘I don’t want another long day.’

      ‘Big plans for this evening?’ he asked as he rose to his feet.

      Erin wondered if he was making fun of her. To an attractive man with women falling over themselves to book him for a date, her life must seem pretty dull in comparison. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact,’ she lied. ‘I’m meeting someone after work.’

      ‘About what we discussed over coffee…’ Eamon began as he accompanied her back to the hospital.

      ‘Don’t worry, Dr Chapman,’ she said before he could continue. ‘I’ll get working on winning friends and influencing people right now.’

      Eamon watched as she stalked off down the corridor, her head down, her shoulders hunched and her face like a brewing storm. ‘You do that, Dr Taylor,’ he murmured, and, blowing out a breath, made his way back to his office.

      

      ‘Aren’t you supposed to be doing the trial ward-round with Dr Chapman?’ Lydia Hislop, one of the nurses who regularly worked with Erin, asked. ‘The others left over half an hour ago.’

      Erin frowned as she checked through the patient’s notes she was reading, barely registering what the nurse had said. ‘When did Mrs Fuller have a second shot of pethidine?’ She glanced at the nurse. ‘I don’t remember signing for it.’

      Lydia peered at the notes, her forehead creasing over a frown. ‘That’s your signature, isn’t it?’

      Erin felt a cold hand of unease press against the base of her spine. She closed the patient folder and let out a long, unsteady breath. ‘I must be working way too hard,’ she muttered. ‘I can’t even remember what day it is.’

      ‘Tell me about it,’ Lydia said with an empathetic eyeroll. ‘Have you got time to see Mr Boyle in bay five, or should I get one of the night-duty