High-Altitude Doctor. Sarah Morgan

and presence that set him apart from other men. It crossed her mind that he made Simon look like an adolescent—over-eager to score with women and then brag of his successes. Still very much a boy despite the outward appearance of manhood.

      In contrast, there was nothing of the boy in Finn McEwan. He was all man.

      She felt a throb of awareness deep inside her—something sexual that she’d long denied.

      ‘I’m doing exactly what you’re doing, Dr McEwan.’ In an attempt to halt the slow, insidious curl low in her pelvis, Juliet took several steps backwards, increasing the distance between them. ‘Combining my interest in high-altitude medicine with my love of climbing.’

      Finn didn’t comment on her retreat but she knew his eyes had noticed the movement. She saw the sudden narrowing and the silent question in those dark depths.

      ‘Climbing Everest is hardly an everyday sort of hobby,’ he said mildly, and she tilted her chin, aiming for angry. Angry was so much safer than sexually aware.

      ‘Do you feel threatened by strong women, Finn?’ Her eyes flashed him a challenge. ‘Are you more comfortable with stereotypes? Do you expect a woman to stay at home and knit and bake cakes while waiting for her man to return from a day’s hunting?’

      There was a moment’s silence while he scanned her face, his expression thoughtful. ‘I think a person should be whatever they want to be,’ he said finally, ‘and should travel in whatever direction they wish to travel in life, irrespective of sex or age.’

      Her eyes clashed with his and held for a long, breathless moment. Her heart stumbled in her chest. ‘So why don’t you think a woman like me should be on the mountain?’

      ‘I suppose I’m just wondering whether you’re doing what you want to do or whether something else entirely is driving you.’ He looked at her with that lazy, masculine scrutiny that she found so unsettling. ‘What exactly are you doing here, Dr Adams?’

      This wasn’t a conversation that she wanted to have. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

      ‘No?’ His gaze didn’t shift from hers. ‘Mountains are harsh and unforgiving. They make man feel strong and invincible and then reveal him as puny. They force you to take risks and then make you pay, possibly the ultimate price. Is that what you want? Are those the risks you truly want to take?’

      Her heart beat a little faster. ‘I don’t take risks, Dr McEwan.’

      His mouth curved into a faint smile. ‘Just being here is a risk, and you know that as well as I do. You could get seriously hurt, or worse.’

      ‘Maybe we have a different definition of risk. I happen to call this living.’ As if to illustrate her point, she breathed in deeply and glanced around her, her green eyes shining in the semi-darkness. ‘And as for hurt…’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do in life, you can’t avoid being hurt. I can play it safe and still manage to get hurt. I can be hit by a bus, stabbed by a patient and I can get my heart broken by a man.’

      There was the briefest of pauses and when Finn spoke his voice sounded strangely harsh in the cold night air. ‘And is that what happened to you, Dr Adams? Did you get your heart broken by a man?’

      Tension throbbed between them and for a moment Juliet couldn’t find the breath to speak. She pushed the memories back into the past and reminded herself that climbing a mountain was all about moving forward in slow steps. And life was like a mountain. ‘It was just a phrase. Hearts don’t break, Dr McEwan.’ She tilted her head, ignoring the fact that her pulse was dancing a jig. It was the altitude, she told herself. Just the altitude. ‘Arteries get clogged, valves degenerate and muscles weaken and die, but hearts don’t break. You’re a doctor. You should know that.’

      He inhaled sharply. ‘I know that there’s a great deal about the human body we don’t understand.’

      ‘And never will. A bit like life.’ She gave a little shiver and wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘It’s getting cold. I’m going back inside. Goodnight, Dr McEwan.’

      Finn’s hesitation was barely perceptible. ‘Goodnight, Dr Adams. Sleep well.’

      She knew she wouldn’t and she suspected he knew that, too.

      As she walked away, she thought she heard him mutter, ‘And if there’s a lock on your door, use it.’ But she decided that she must have imagined it.

      Finn stood still in the dark and the cold and watched Juliet go. He wanted to call her back, wanted to make her stay and talk long into the night until he’d got right inside her head, but instead he kept silent and watched the door swing closed behind her, his last glimpse of her focused on the blonde plait that hung down her back.

      The man in him saw soft curves, creamy skin and green eyes that sparked and teased. He saw temptation and seduction in every graceful movement of those long limbs. He saw guts mingled with a vulnerability that could cut a man off at the knees.

      The doctor in him wondered whether she had enough body fat to make the strenuous assault on the world’s highest mountain. He knew that about fifteen per cent of body weight was lost after three months at high altitude. He had a better than fair experience of women’s bodies and he was willing to bet money that Dr Adams couldn’t afford to lose fifteen per cent.

      Would she make it to the top of Everest?

      With a soft curse he reminded himself that her fitness wasn’t his problem.

      The fact that she was trekking to one of the most inhospitable places on earth wasn’t his problem.

      Finn was used to climbing with strong women and he would never have dreamed of offering assistance unless it was requested. So why was she different? Why did he suddenly have a need to switch teams and anchor himself firmly to her side for the duration of the expedition?

      Why did he have a powerful urge to bundle her straight back on that terrifying flight and deliver her safely back to Kathmandu?

      Finn let out a vicious curse and reminded himself that feeling over-protective was his problem. She’d made it clear enough that she wouldn’t welcome his interference or his protection.

      And he had no right to offer it.

      ‘Climb, Jules, Climb!’

      Juliet was eight years old and clinging to a rockface in frozen terror while her big brother grinned down at her from above. Daniel Adams. Daredevil and wild boy. To her he was a god. Fourteen years old and totally fearless, whereas she could hardly breathe for fear. It gripped her in its jaws like a wild beast, preventing movement, and now she was stuck, clinging to the exposed rockface, paralysed by the enormity of the risk she was taking. ‘I’m going to fall!’

      Her fingers tightened in the tiny crack and her toes felt numb.

      She was going to let go.

      ‘You’re not going to fall and even if you do, I’ll catch you because we’re roped together.’ Her brother’s voice was impatient. ‘Look up, not down. Concentrate. Feel the rock. Go for it, Jules, you can do it! You’re my sister!’

      A moment of delicious pride mingled with the panic.

      She didn’t want to go for it. She just wanted to curl up in a ball away from risk, but she’d discovered that the biggest high on earth was her older brother’s approval. And she couldn’t fall because to fall would be to fail and no one in her family ever failed at anything.

      Everyone in her family was bold and fearless and kicked against the life-throttling ropes of convention. And she was going to be the same.

      So she closed her eyes and tried to forget the drop beneath her.

      She tried to forget that climbing terrified her. She tried to forget that heights made her stomach roll.

      And she climbed.

      Upwards, towards her brother’s