Forbidden Nights With The Boss. Anna J. Stewart

something there, Cam confirmed to himself.

      ‘Just before schoolies,’ Tom offered. ‘Then all hell broke loose. We had that low off the coast, gale-force winds and rain, and some of the kids’ tents were blown away and both the hospital and the refuge became hostels for wet, stranded teenagers.’

      ‘Better weather forecast for this year,’ Mike said, but in such gloomy tones Cam had to ask.

      ‘Are they so bad, the schoolies? After all, they’re legally adults, most of them. They’re over eighteen when they leave school. Surely they don’t all run wild?’

      ‘Wait and see,’ Jo warned him, green eyes pinning him in place—distracting him. ‘Explaining schoolies is impossible, although, as an army man, maybe you can imagine it. Picture a couple of hundred new recruits turned loose for a week, alcohol flowing freely—binge drinking is apparently what you do to prove you’re an adult—some drugs, although Mike and his crew are very vigilant and we have a great sniffer dog wandering through the gatherings, and then there are hormonal girls and testosterone-laden youths and all the problems of love and lust.’

      Cam rather wished she hadn’t mentioned testosterone and lust, but he set that distraction aside to concentrate on what he was learning.

      ‘We have a chill-out zone staffed with volunteers where kids feeling sick or lost or just in need of a hug can go. We have bottled water available all over the place, the council provides entertainment on the esplanade, local and imported bands, most nights, and generally speaking we’re really well prepared and organised,’ Lauren said, and Cam heard the but hanging at the end of the sentence.

      ‘Anyway, let’s tackle schoolies when we have to. For now, can we discuss Cam’s idea?’ Jo said. ‘He’s right in thinking we’d be welcomed at the high school. Lauren, have you got time to work with him on a rough outline for a programme? And maybe the two of you could do the first run, then whoever is available could do the other classes. I think having a man and a woman running each session makes it easier to do some simulated violence scenes and maybe if there’s time, we could talk about control issues as well—equate it to bullying, which is a big issue in schools these days.’

      So, Jo’s palming me off onto Lauren, and from the look on Tom’s face he’s no happier about it than I am, Cam realised.

      Than I am?

      For crying out loud, what was happening to him?

      I’m going soft on my boss, that’s what, he admitted to himself, and for some bizarre reason the admission sent a rush of heat through his body.

      Jo was watching Cam’s face and, no, she wasn’t going to think about why her gaze had drifted that way, so she saw his reaction to her suggestion about him working with Lauren.

      Puzzled? Yes, puzzlement was there, but also present was something that looked like suspicion. She hadn’t deliberately suggested they work together, had she?

      Of course not, she’d suggested it because they both had psychology training so were the best suited for the job. Of course, Lauren was beautiful, and Jo had felt for a long time that Lauren needed a man in her life. No harm in bumping them together.

      No harm at all and the squelchy feeling inside her at that thought actually confirmed it was a good idea. She’d had enough internal disturbances over Fraser Cameron.

      ‘We need get the programme organised first,’ Lauren suggested, then she smiled at Cam. ‘Your boss ever give you time off? If we’re going to put our heads together, it would suit me better during the day. With the cutbacks in funding I’m doing the night shift at the refuge. It’s not a late night for me, but after it I’m too drained to do any logical thinking.’

      Cam turned to Jo and raised his eyebrows.

      ‘Tell me what time suits you, Lauren, and Cam can fit in,’ Jo said. ‘I didn’t know I’d have help this week so I’m palming patients off to him as they come in. We haven’t written any appointments up for him so far, so he wouldn’t be breaking any.’

      Lauren mentioned a time, and Jo ran very efficiently through all the decisions they’d made and the jobs people had to do, listing Cam as the person to get in touch with people running existing men’s programmes and telling Lauren that as the chairman of the co-ordinating domestic violence scheme in the Cove she, Jo, would handle the applications for funding.

      ‘I think,’ she added, the little frown that creased her brow—one line only—attracting Cam’s attention, ‘that we have to rename ourselves. Being just a co-ordinating committee for the refuge has been fine up to now, but I think we need to show the funding bodies that we’re serious. We need to show we’re being proactive in dealing with domestic violence throughout the community, which is what we’ll be doing.’

      ‘How about the Domestic Violence Integrated Response Team?’ Mike suggested, showing Cam by his use of key words that he was an old hand at filling out forms for government agencies.

      ‘Not sure about the “Response”,’ Tom said. ‘Jo’s right, we’ve got to go beyond responding to situations if we want to prove our worth.’

      ‘Response and Prevention?’ Lauren offered. ‘After all, we do a lot of work with women to show them how to stay safe in their relationships.’

      ‘Let’s think about it,’ Jo said. ‘We’re on the right track and we’ve enough to go on with for now. But while we’re here, can we get back to schoolies? Mike, have you got enough volunteers for the chill-out zone?’

      ‘We’ve got the usual lot but can always use more.’

      He turned to Cam.

      ‘You going to volunteer, mate?’ he asked. ‘Up to now, Tom and Jo have shared the call-out duties.’

      ‘Happy to do it,’ Cam said. ‘I imagine Jo can tell me where to be and when. She’s good that way, my boss.’

      Jo decided to ignore him, although she’d heard the tease behind the words. Had anyone else heard it? Would it start speculation?

      Not that there was anything to speculate on.

      And why would that depress her?

      ‘Let’s all go to the pub for a bite to eat,’ she suggested, thinking a relaxing beer and a little light conversation with her friends might restore her equilibrium.

      ‘You’ll have to count me out,’ Tom said. ‘I’ve a patient coming in from a farm up in the hills, suspected broken collarbone. He’ll be arriving any minute.’

      ‘And I’m on duty at the refuge,’ Lauren said, ‘much as I’d have loved a relaxing evening with friends.’

      Whether Mike was going to join them became a moot point when he answered his mobile.

      ‘Road accident,’ he said briefly. ‘No injuries but both drivers over the limit.’

      He left the room as Tom also stood up and closed the file he’d had in front of him. He was watching Lauren as she, too, stood and Jo could see the concern on Tom’s face. He was as worried as she, Jo, was, about Lauren’s health. Her friend was driving herself to exhaustion.

      ‘I can do some evenings at the refuge,’ Jo offered. ‘Now I’ve got another doctor in the practice, I’m not nearly as busy, and Cam could take any late calls that come in if I’m not available.’

      ‘I can manage,’ Lauren said.

      ‘Not for much longer,’ Jo told her. ‘And I’m telling you that as your doctor as well as your friend.’

      Lauren sighed. She waited until Tom had followed Mike out of the room, then said quietly, ‘You haven’t heard, have you?’

      ‘Heard what?’ Jo asked.

      ‘Nat Williams is coming home for Christmas. Bringing his American wife and their two kids—they’ll be here for a month.’

      Jo