Her Brooding Italian Surgeon. Fiona Lowe

Base had coped with a full-on emergency and, although two of their patients were in a critical and serious condition, the fact they were still alive lay at the feet of her team.

      And Leo Costa. The opinionated, charismatic and brilliant surgeon.

      Last night she’d wanted to hate him, this morning she’d just wanted him to go as far away from her as possible but obviously that was far too simple a request. If the fates knew in advance she would need a surgeon today, why couldn’t they have sent along a ‘nice guy’, a competent surgeon or, better yet, a female surgeon?

      But no, they were enjoying a joke at her expense and had dispatched her worst nightmare. A man with magnetic allure, the kind of man she’d learned was toxic to her. A couple of short relationships at uni had made her consider perhaps she lacked judgement in her choice of men but it had been Greg who’d really rammed home the message. With charm and good looks, he’d drawn her into his enticing web and then trapped her. Now she knew to her very core that letting a man in her life was like taking a razor blade to her wrist—an act of self-harm.

      So why, knowing all of that, did it only take one look from those dark, dark eyes to set off a rampaging trail of undeniable lust inside her, sending her pulse racing and battering every single one of Greg’s painful lessons about charismatic men? Battering her belief that the only way to be safe was to live a single life. A belief she hadn’t questioned once in three years.

      She bit her lip hard against the delicious sensations and loathed her own weakness. But, despite how she felt about her reaction to him, she couldn’t deny Leo was the prize piece in today’s emergency. Without him, Jenny and the elderly woman would have been immediately airlifted to Melbourne and there would have been a strong chance both of them could have died in transit. Leo had saved Jenny and given Mavis a fighting chance.

      Fatigue pummelled her sitting body and Abbie fought hard to resist closing her eyes. She’d already sent Justin home and she only had to stay awake a little bit longer, do one more round and then, fingers crossed, she could go home too. The squeak of the lounge door interrupted her thoughts and, immediately on alert that a patient had deteriorated, she glanced up, expecting to see the night-nurse.

      It wasn’t the night-nurse. An intoxicating shimmer raced through her from the tip of her toes to the top of her scalp, leaving her breathless. Had she been blind and not able to recognise the strong brown hand that gripped the edge of the door, she would have known instantly it was Leo from the fresh mint and citrus scent that preceded him. How could a man smell so good after such a long day? ‘I thought you’d gone home?’

      ‘I spent some time with Nonna and for the last hour I’ve been caught up with journalists. Today’s crash made it all over the news and it seems that no one could find you.’ He shot her a questioning look and then walked straight to the instant hot-water heater unit and made two mugs of tea.

      She shrugged, not caring that she’d left him with the press because she was pretty certain it was far more his thing than hers. ‘Your patients were evacuated to Melbourne so I figured you had the time and I was still tied up with patients.’

      ‘Well, you owe me because I’ve done print, radio and television interviews and I’m “mediaed” out.’

      The soothing aroma of camomile wafted towards her and, for the first time since she’d walked into work hours ago, she relaxed. ‘You’ll look good on TV.’ The words rolled out of her mouth before her exhausted brain could censor them and she gasped, wanting to grab them back.

      Have you lost your mind? Warrior Abbie held her shield high over her heart, her expression incredulous.

      Leo grinned—a smile full of the knowledge that not only did he know he’d look bloody fantastic on TV, he’d also heard her gaffe. A gaffe a man like Leo Costa would read as an open invitation. He stared her down. ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed.’

      Establish distance. From the moment she’d met him she’d been cool and it was time to dig deep and find her Zen so she could cope with him and keep herself safe. She tossed her head, hating the way her curls tangled into her eyes, ruining the attempted nonchalant look. ‘Let me put it this way. I noticed, and perhaps even enjoyed noticing, but not even your glossy magazine good-looks quite make up for the disrespect you showed me last night.’

      She expected a tremor of anger or at the very least repressed indignation but instead he walked over to her and extended his hand.

      ‘Hello, I’m Leo Costa, general surgeon and grandson of Maria Rossi. Pleased to meet you.’

      She frowned as she swung her legs off the table and slowly raised her hand to his, all the time wondering what was actually going on. ‘Abbie McFarlane.’

      His firm grip wrapped around hers, underpinned with a gentle softness that had peril written all over it. ‘I hear you’re the doctor who’s been looking after my grandmother and you’ve had a few problems with one of the relatives?’

      She studied his face, trying to read beyond the charm and the pretend first greeting. ‘He hit ten on the difficult scale.’

      His eyes widened fractionally but he didn’t disagree as he sat down on the coffee table, directly opposite her. ‘Looking back, I think he let fear for his grandmother interfere with his medical judgement.’

      She hadn’t expected that answer—the man had just verbalised his dread and that wasn’t something charismatic men usually did. ‘I can understand the fright.’

      ‘Well, it caught me by complete surprise. Nonna’s always been so fit and well and…’ He puffed out a short breath before giving a wry and apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry for what I said; I was out of line. If it makes you feel any better, my family berated me at breakfast.’

      Breakfast? The word clanged in her head like a fire bell. ‘Hang on; you were still insisting at nine a.m. that Maria be cared for by someone else.’

      His shoulders rose as his head tilted slightly like a kid who’d been presented with the prosecuting evidence of an empty biscuit barrel. ‘Stubbornness is one of my less fortunate attributes.’

      Her lips twitched. ‘One? So there are more?’

      He captured her gaze, his eyes twinkling. ‘All I will confess to is that I’m not planning on being difficult about this again. Nonna’s lucky to have you; indeed Bandarra’s fortunate to have a GP of your calibre, Abbie.’

      She saw the captivating smile, heard the warm praise, but the bells still pealed loud in her head. ‘So what you’re really saying is I’m still Maria’s doctor because you’ve realised there’s no one else.’

      ‘No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.’ Dismay extinguished the twinkle in his eyes and for the second time today she glimpsed a hint of the real man behind the smooth façade. ‘I admit to making a snap judgement last night and I’ve apologised for that.’

      The tic in his jaw said apologies were not something he did very often. ‘But I worked alongside you today and there’s no doubt you know your medicine.’

      The sincerity in his voice finally satisfied her. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’ He moved back to the bench and carried over the tea before sitting down next to her. His firm lips curved upwards into a conspiratorial smile full of shared experiences. ‘It was one hell of a day, wasn’t it?’

      His words matched her thoughts, which totally unnerved her. First there’d been the unexpected apology and now he appeared to want to sit and chat. That alone was enough to cope with, but added on top was his scent and aura swirling around her like an incoming tide, creating rafts of delicious sensation tickling along her veins.

      He shifted his weight and the couch moved, tilting her closer to him. Silver spots danced in her head. No, no, no. It took every exhausted molecule to force herself to stay upright and not give in to his magnetic pull—the one that called for her to lean against his arm and lay her head on his broad shoulder. But