The Honourable Army Doc. Emily Forbes

guy who would have come off second best. But despite his size and the sense of strength she didn’t get a feeling of menace. She got a feeling of raw masculinity but not danger. He might not back down from a fight but she got the sense he wouldn’t start it. Although she was certain he would finish it. He wouldn’t stand by and watch. He would go to help.

      He seemed strong. Interesting. He made her feel brave. She put her hand into his. ‘I’m Ali.’

      His fingers closed around hers, his grip firm but gentle and sending an unexpected rush of excitement racing through her. She didn’t want to let go, it had been a long time since she’d been excited about anything.

      ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ali,’ he said, and something in his tone made her believe he meant every word. ‘You’re a doctor?’ he asked. She nodded in reply. She didn’t think she could speak, not while he still had hold of her hand, her senses were overloaded. ‘Are you Brisbane based?’ he added as he released her hand.

      Ali shook her head and found her voice. ‘No, I’m from Adelaide.’

      ‘Ah, I should have known.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘South Australia has more than her fair share of beautiful women.’

      He was definitely flirting.

      ‘Have you been to Adelaide?’ she asked, hoping that he had a legitimate reason for his flirtatious comment and that he wasn’t just spouting platitudes.

      ‘Many times,’ he replied. ‘Do you like living there?’

      ‘I do.’ Ali nodded. She loved her home town and although many of her friends had moved interstate she had never thought she’d prefer to live elsewhere. ‘But I must admit the opportunity to escape our winter and head north for some sunshine and the conference was too much for me to resist. I’m looking forward to hearing your address tomorrow.’

      Quinn smiled. ‘You’re attending my session? You’re not going to ditch me in favour of lying by the pool and working on your tan?’

      ‘I try not to play hookey until the second day,’ she quipped before she sipped her drink, conscious of the fact she was flirting in return but surprisingly without apprehension.

      His phone rang, interrupting the flow of their conversation. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Would you excuse me? I need to take this.’

      She watched as he took two steps away from the bar. She wondered who it was. Wondered who had the power to make him search for privacy.

      He paused and turned to face her again. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said, before leaving her to watch him walk away. As he left he took with him the air of excitement she’d experienced and the evening dimmed a little. She wondered if he would be back. She had no way of knowing.

      Ali was enchanting. There was no denying she was beautiful but it was more than that. It was more than attraction, more than desire. There was a sense of grace about her that fascinated him, a calmness about her that drew him to her. He knew he needed calmness after his months in Afghanistan and he longed to stay at the bar and let her soft, sultry voice soothe his weary soul. While he listened to her he was able to breathe, to relax. He didn’t want to walk away but he couldn’t ignore this call. His family were more important to him than anything else. They would always take precedence.

      ‘I’ll be back,’ he told her. He wanted to ask her to wait but that would have been presumptuous. He told himself he would find her when he returned.

      He moved away from the bar to answer the call, not because he didn’t want to be overheard but so he could ensure he could give his full attention to the call. He knew if he stayed beside Ali he would be distracted. He wanted to turn around, to retrace his footsteps, to return to her side, but duty came first. He had never shirked his responsibilities before and he couldn’t start now.

      He answered the call but the voice on the other end of the line was unexpected. He had been expecting his daughters but instead he got his mother-in-law.

      ‘Helen? What is it? What’s the matter? Is it one of the girls?’ It was unusual for Helen to ring him. Their relationship was perfectly amicable but there was never a real reason for them to speak. His daughters kept him in the loop and anything important he would discuss with their mother. Helen could only be ringing with bad news.

      Quinn kept walking out of the room and into the hotel lobby. He needed to get away from the bar, suspecting he would need some peace and quiet. His heart was lodged in his throat as he waited for the reply. His breathing laboured.

      ‘It’s Julieanne.’

      His wife.

      Ex-wife, he corrected automatically.

      He was certain now the phone call was not good news but hearing that the call wasn’t about his daughters relaxed the muscles in his diaphragm and allowed him just enough air to speak. ‘What is it? Has there been an accident?’

      ‘No. It’s her headaches.’

      Julieanne had always suffered from headaches and Quinn knew that of late her headaches had become more frequent and more severe. He’d asked her to speak to her doctor but Julieanne had been convinced that she could manage them by experimenting with her diet and exercise routine.

      Helen continued and Quinn could hear her voice catch with emotion. ‘She had a seizure today.’

      The last vestiges of calm that he’d felt when he’d been speaking with Ali vanished as Helen’s words forced their way into his head. He could almost feel his mind resisting her words. He didn’t want to hear this.

      This is serious, he thought. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his brow with his free hand. This isn’t about diet and exercise. I should have insisted she see someone.

      There was an ottoman in front of him, tucked into a corner of the lobby, and Quinn collapsed onto it, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and forced himself to take a deep breath.

      ‘Where is she? Tell me what happened.’

      He listened as between Helen’s sobs she told him what had transpired. ‘We’re at the hospital now. The doctor has just come to speak to me. She has a brain tumour.’

      A tumour.

      The rest of the conversation was a blur as Quinn spoke first to Helen and then to the doctor. He forced himself to concentrate as they discussed Julieanne’s condition but he knew he’d only registered the basic facts and they were far from good.

      When the conversation ended he stood up from the ottoman on shaky legs. His hands were shaking too as he pocketed his phone. He was struggling to breathe. He could feel his larynx spasm as he tried to relax his diaphragm and take a breath. He needed air. To his right was the hotel entrance. To his left was the conference room. He looked back towards the bar, back to the room where he had left Ali. But he couldn’t go back into the bar. Not yet. He needed fresh air.

      He pushed open the hotel’s front door, not waiting for the doorman’s assistance. The hotel was built on the banks of the Brisbane River and Quinn crossed to the embankment in three long strides. He gripped the railings at the river’s edge, anchoring himself as he gulped the fresh, evening air and tried to make sense of the conversation he’d just had. But even as he was trying to get things straight in his head he knew there was no making sense of it. It was a horrible, unimaginable situation to be in.

      He stared blankly into the depths of the dark water swirling below him. Growing up on the Sunshine Coast of Queensland, he’d always had an affinity for water and it was something else he’d missed while stationed in Afghanistan. Normally he found water soothing but tonight it wasn’t allaying his fears. It wasn’t soothing. It wasn’t calming. He’d been craving calm since his return from Afghanistan but now he couldn’t imagine things ever being calm again.

      He had no idea how long he stood there, staring into the water, but gradually he became aware