Forbidden Nights With The Boss. Anna J. Stewart

might be looking for help, if only subconsciously.

      ‘Have you surfed yourself?’ Cam asked.

      ‘Everyone in the Cove surfs,’ the man growled, edging towards his ute. ‘I know the boys’ll want to do it some time, but they’re better off concentrating on their cricket right now.’

      ‘It’s years since I played cricket,’ Cam told him, hoping to keep a conversation going long enough for Richard to calm down before he got back behind the wheel of his vehicle. ‘Though I did quite well at it when I was at school. Is there a local club? I’m probably not staying on at the Cove—two months’ trial run over the holidays—but if I stayed I’d be interested.’

      In a game that would keep me out of the surf all summer? Cam’s head protested, but he could feel a little of the tension easing out of Richard.

      ‘We’re always looking for new members and we’ve an indoor cricket comp as well.’

      He turned to Cam now, leaning against his ute, ready to talk a little more, Cam suspected, but rubbing at his left shoulder at the same time.

      ‘You a leftie?’ Cam asked. ‘A bowler?’

      Richard frowned but his voice as he asked, ‘How’d you guess?’ was less tight.

      ‘Looks like you’ve got a bit of tendonitis. We’ve got an ultrasound machine down at the clinic that sometimes helps, and if you wanted to come in some time, I could use it on that shoulder and maybe do a bit of joint manipulation.’

      Cam held his breath. He could feel Richard’s suspicion coming in waves off his body, yet his shoulder must be very sore for it to be distracting him in this situation.

      Was the injury exacerbating the home situation?

      Was he in so much pain he was taking it out on Jackie?’

      Wishing he had more practical experience at dealing with domestic violence situations, Cam remained silent, then was delighted when Richard said, a little grudgingly, ‘Could I get an appointment tomorrow?’

      ‘Of course—in fact, if it suits you to come in early, we could make it eight-thirty. I don’t officially start until nine, so I could spend some time with you.’

      Richard nodded as if agreeing, but through sheer bad luck Jo emerged from the house, a bag of rubbish in her hand, apparently heading for the bin but probably carrying it as an excuse as he, Cam, had carried the towels.

      ‘You!’ Richard yelled at her, swinging towards Jo, his hands forming fists, although they hung on arms held rigidly to his sides.

      ‘Keep away from my wife and my kids!’

      He flung himself into his car.

      ‘I almost wish he’d slammed the car door,’ Cam said as the ute backed out into the street and Richard drove away. ‘If he could let a little of his tension out in normal ways like slamming a door, I wouldn’t be so concerned, but his control is so strong it’s killing him.’

      ‘Better him than Jackie and the kids,’ Jo murmured, then, ashamed she’d even thought that way, let alone said it, she retracted it. ‘No, please let’s not have anyone dying.’

      She looked at Cam, wondering why he was clutching beach towels against his chest.

      ‘Did you bump into him by accident?’

      ‘Not entirely,’ Cam told her with a slow smile. ‘Hence the beach towels—I wanted an excuse to come out to the van and now I’m here I’d better put them in. They won’t work a second time.’

      ‘He won’t come back, surely,’ Jo said, but she was still puzzled by whatever had been going on in the carport. ‘Did you expect him to come?’

      ‘I thought it was a fifty-fifty chance. Helping his wife get away was one thing, but taking his boys to the surf—that was really undermining his control of his family.’

      Jo found herself sighing, something she seemed to be doing far too often these days.

      ‘Did he mention it?’

      Cam had slid open the campervan door and was putting the towels in a small cupboard under the back seat.

      ‘Told me if they wanted to surf he’d teach them, and suggested I pass the message on to you.’

      ‘But he was here a while, I heard the voices,’ Jo said. ‘Longer than delivering a message would have taken. That’s why I came out. I thought it might be someone who was lost and you were having trouble with directions.’

      ‘I tried to talk to him,’ Cam admitted. ‘Actually, he’s got a bad shoulder and I’d just suggested he come in first thing in the morning to let me look at it.’

      ‘And I came bumbling out and spoiled it all.’

      Cam closed the door of the van and turned towards her.

      ‘I doubt that. I don’t know if I was getting through—he hadn’t agreed to see me as a doctor. And for a while there, I was panicking, thinking I might have to join his cricket club and it would take up my surfing time.’

      He’d have joined if he’d thought it would help Richard. The thought flashed through Jo’s head and although she barely knew this man who’d come to work for her, she knew this guess had been correct. He was that kind of man.

      Although …

      ‘But would it work?’ she asked. ‘Even if he comes in for his shoulder, could you talk about other stuff?’

      This time his smile was so warm and teasing Jo knew she should sack him right now—this very minute—and somehow muddle through the holidays on her own, or get a locum, or leave town herself. Anything rather than fall in love with Cam.

      Fall in love? Where had that come from? What had happened to simple lust?

      Or even complicated lust?

      ‘What if the fact he is in pain was adding to his aggro at home?’ the smiling man asked. ‘And if we could do something for the pain … ‘

      He left the sentence hanging in the air, but the way he’d said ‘we’ had touched off the zapping sensation along her nerves again, and she muttered a very hasty goodnight and took her bag of rubbish back into the house.

      To Cam’s astonishment, Richard Trent did turn up at the clinic

      the next morning, confirming Cam’s guess that his shoulder

      must be extremely painful.

      ‘Have you had ultrasound treatment before?’ Cam asked

      him.

      ‘A couple of years ago—maybe more. Jo’s dad did it.’ The way Richard said Jo’s name told Cam the man had calmed down from the anger he’d been feeling the previous evening, but Cam was also very aware he couldn’t venture into any matter beyond this particular appointment.

      ‘Then you’ll probably remember that I’ll put some gel on your shoulder, then rub the head of the machine across it. What it does is send sound waves into your body. They warm the area, which provides some pain relief, but more importantly they increase blood supply to the muscle or tendon to help healing and reduce swelling. Have you had an ultrasound test—same machine, different use—to pinpoint the exact problem?’

      Richard was up on the treatment table by now, and Cam applied gel and moved the head of the machine over the skin of the injured shoulder.

      ‘A while back, down in Port,’ Richard admitted. ‘The doctor bloke there said there was calcification in the tendons around the rotator cuff and I should have an op.’

      ‘Maybe,’ Cam told him, ‘although sometimes this together with a little manipulation and massage will break the calcification down. Problem is, this treatment is best if you have it for five to ten minutes, two to three times a day. Most people can’t fit three medical