Forbidden Nights With The Boss. Anna J. Stewart

a good financial prospect as you owned the surgery and the house and also had investment properties in the city.’

      ‘Sew?’

      Cam smiled again as the word burst from his boss’s lips.

      ‘Why the hell would anyone be telling you I can sew? Why would I want to sew? Why would you be interested? You’ve been in the army. I’m sure you’re much better at sewing than I am, given the number of buttons you must have had on your uniforms, or are doctors the kind of officers who have people who sew on their buttons?’

      Knowing all three of his sisters would have reacted with the same horror, Cam continued to smile.

      ‘I think that particular patient thought it was a nice womanly trait to point out to me, and, no, no button sewers in my army life.’

      ‘You’re enjoying this!’

      The accusation was accompanied by a fairly good glare, well up on the glare scale he’d set up in his head many years ago. She looked good glaring, too, fiery colour in her cheeks, her eyes seeming greener, a bit like an angry elf.

      ‘Of course,’ he said smoothly, teasing her because it was fun. ‘Though I do wonder what it is about you that makes everyone think you’re incapable of finding yourself a man and that you need help from the whole town to sort out your life.’

      A very angry elf!

      ‘Bloody town!’ she muttered. ‘Honestly, they never let up. I shouldn’t have employed you—I knew that right from the start—now we’re going to have to put up with every patient casting sideways glances at us, or, as you’ve found this morning, asking straight out. If I’d had an ounce of sense I’d have come home from Sydney as a widow.’

      ‘Having killed off your husband and got away with it?’

      Only with difficulty was Cam holding in a laugh.

      ‘There’s no reason I couldn’t have killed off some mythical husband while I was training in Sydney. Not murdered the poor man, but I could have had him die a painful, lingering death, leaving me grieving for ever. That way they’d have accepted I wasn’t interested in a relationship. But coming up here single? Big mistake! I’ve had patients trailing their sons and nephews and even grandsons through the door—here’s Edward in from the farm to meet you, he’s got one hundred and forty breeding sows and good teeth. The place is impossible.’

      Cam had to smile, but just to tease her further he did the maths.

      ‘One hundred and forty breeding sows? What? A couple of litters a year? Twelve to fifteen a litter? Edward would have been a good catch!’

      ‘Edward was not the slightest bit interested in me once he realised I haven’t a clue about pork, ham and bacon, and have never known which bit comes from where. What’s more, he’s happily engaged to a woman who works in the piggery for him, who understands percentage body fat and other things important to pigs.’

      Jo hoped she’d spoken coolly enough to put a stop to this absurd conversation, but inside her there was a little glow at the simple pleasure of having someone to talk to, to joke with, while she took a break. Not that she didn’t talk and joke to the other staff, two nurses and the receptionist, but talking to Cam was different somehow.

      Because he was a man?

      Hell’s teeth, she did hope not! Her mind went into panic mode at the thought. She didn’t know if she was ready for a relationship with a man—well, she was, her body was—but was she ready for the fallout when he moved on? For the talk around the town, for the pain if she was foolish enough to fall in love with him?

      Her body’s reaction to him could be explained. That was definitely because he was a man, and possibly because her body had been pure and chaste for so darned long she could barely remember what attraction was like.

      Until now.

      Though surely it hadn’t always been this strong—this immediate …

      And how could she be thinking of a relationship when the man had shown not the slightest interest in her as anything other than his boss?

      ‘Mrs Youngman.’

      He was looking at her, obviously awaiting a response, his eyes looking grey-blue today—the charcoal shirt?

      ‘I’m sorry, miles away,’ she muttered, feeling heat rise in her cheeks when she realised just where her thoughts had been. ‘You were saying?’

      ‘Mrs Youngman was one of my first patients. The note on the front of her file said, “Query IVF.” She’s fifty-two. Has she talked to you about this?’

      The question brought Jo’s focus back to work immediately.

      ‘Helene Youngman? That’s who you’re talking about?’

      Cam nodded, which didn’t help at all.

      ‘Query IVF? Who wrote that?’

      Now he shrugged, the impossibly wide shoulders lifting the neat charcoal shirt, moving the material so she saw the V of tanned chest beneath the unbuttoned collar. Nope, her mind might be focussed but her body was still hanging in on the attraction stuff, stirring deep down.

      ‘I’ve no idea,’ he replied. ‘I thought maybe you had at her last appointment, or perhaps the receptionist when Mrs Youngman phoned for an appointment.’

      ‘Helene Youngman!’ Jo repeated, trying to come to terms with the town’s mayor making enquiries about IVF. She had grown-up children and she was a widow. Hauling her mind back to work, Jo added, ‘She must have asked to see you, to see the new doctor—everyone in town would have known you were here within hours—because she didn’t want to talk to me about it, which is a bit of a downer for me as we’re quite friendly. Not that it matters who she talks to, of course, but what did you tell her?’

      ‘Only what I knew—specialist clinics in the capital cities, maybe in large regional cities—best to see a gynaecologist first and get checked out before spending too much money. I want to check out information about available programmes so I know for the future, but didn’t want to ask one of the nurses because she, Mrs Youngman, gave the impression she was embarrassed enough asking about it, although she must have mentioned it to someone because of the note. I said I’d see what I could find out for her and post it.’

      ‘Embarrassed? Poor thing, that’s exactly what she would be. Actually, it’s hard to believe she came here to enquire, rather than drive down the coast to Port, but she’s a busy woman. She’s our local mayor and runs two hairdressing salons as well. Although if she goes through with it—and good luck to her if she does—speaking to a doctor about it is going to be the easy part. Facing the local population as it becomes obvious, that’s what will be hard for her. We’ll need to make sure she gets plenty of support.’

      He liked the ‘we’, as if she’d already accepted him as a colleague, but watching her Cam could practically see Jo’s mind working as she tried to puzzle out the request so when she added, ‘I didn’t even know she was seeing someone, let alone involved enough to want a child with him,’ he wasn’t surprised to see a blush rise in her cheeks.

      She pressed her hands against them.

      ‘What a small-minded thing to say—why should I know? That’s just what I was talking about earlier. Small-town mentality, you see. We all think we know everything that’s going on all the time, and if we don’t we’re surprised, even a little put out. That’s terrible, isn’t it?’

      The clear green eyes, like the shallow water at the edge of the ocean when the surf was flat, met his with a plea for—understanding? Absolution?

      The first he could give.

      ‘It’s natural enough, and part of the charm of small towns.’ The colour was fading from her cheeks so he went for the second as well. ‘And I didn’t find it small-minded. To me you simply sounded caring.’

      She