The Legendary Playboy Surgeon. Alison Roberts

still hadn’t closed her mouth. The whirlwind that was Bella was a joy in small doses but for the next six months to a year? Could she cope? Her head was still spinning. No, her whole world seemed to be spinning. Bella was the flip side of her own personality. Impulsive where she was cautious. Ready to drop anything for a better offer where Kate hated to change routines. Prepared to take risks to shake the maximum amount of joy out of life where Kate retreated to safety every time.

      Inexplicably, the image of Connor Matthews came to mind. As if he was in the room with them, watching her. Comparing her with Kate. Nodding, as if to say, Yeah … here’s a woman who has a life.

      ‘Can I stay? Please, please, please?’

      ‘Of … course you can.’

      ‘I won’t be any trouble, honest. I’ll help with the cooking and cleaning and everything. And I’ll probably be out heaps. You won’t even notice I’m here.’

      Kate’s gaze took in the wild array of possessions scattered around the guest bedroom. She knew exactly what the kitchen would look like if Bella took a turn at cooking. Yes, she’d go out a lot because her niece was never without friends for long, but she’d be coming in at two or three a.m. Or not coming in at all and she would be left lying awake wondering where Bella was and whether she was safe. Yes, there were times when there was a definite downside of the vicarious living that could be done by being around Bella, but there was also an attraction. A buzz. Life became much more colourful. Fun.

      She couldn’t banish that image of Connor from her head. She could imagine him smiling now. Approvingly but with an edge of smugness.

      A smile that said, Watch and learn, Dr Graham.

      Birds of a feather, her niece and the maverick surgeon? No. Bella didn’t set out to break rules. She either didn’t notice they were there or thought she could get away with anything by using a combination of contrition and charm. And it usually worked. If it didn’t, she sucked up any punishment because she had brought it on herself. Which was probably why she was unrepentant about the broken hearts she’d been leaving in her wake for years now. That was a game that had to be played according to Bella’s rules and she was always upfront about her plans for her future. She wasn’t going to consider a permanent relationship until she was thirty and then she was going to choose the perfect man and settle down to have a dozen kids.

      Another facet of the flip side. Watching Bella grow up was the closest Kate would ever get to having a child of her own.

      ‘I’m starving,’ Bella announced. ‘Ooh … I’ve got a bottle of wine for you in my handbag. A red. The man in the shop said it was a very good one.’

      Kate recognised the label. A nice New Zealand Shiraz. ‘Good choice. I’ve got lamb shanks in the slow cooker. Well done, you.’

      Bella laughed. ‘Pure luck. I said it came in a bottle so it had to be good.’ She held the bottle aloft like a trophy. ‘Shall we? You can tell me all about St Pat’s while we eat. Like who the hottest doctors are.’

      Kate was laughing as she led the way to her kitchen. She could be quite sure that Bella was more than capable of discovering that kind of information for herself in no time at all. In fact, she wouldn’t be at all surprised if her niece arrived home on the back of Connor’s motorbike within a fortnight.

      The new nurse in Theatre was cute.

      Tall and blonde. Blue-eyed and smiley. Just the way Connor Matthews liked his women. The absolute opposite of grim-faced, dark-haired, disapproving females who clearly had no fun in life at all.

      So why hadn’t he been able to expunge the image of Kate Graham from his mind over the last few days?

      Because he felt bad, that’s why. It had been a mean thing to say, telling her that she needed to get a life. Adding that her white coat looked ridiculous had been nothing more than childish. And also mean. Connor was not a mean person. The only justification for the way he’d attacked her was that he had been in the middle of a fairly devastating emotional experience.

      Connor scrubbed harder at his hands with the soap-impregnated brush. Under his nails. Between his fingers. Hard enough to hurt.

      He’d been to young Liam’s funeral only yesterday and even during the service he’d been thinking about Kate. A distraction, maybe, from memories that had the potential to wreak havoc in his life even now.

      He’d thought about the way her face had changed when she’d realised what had actually been going on. The reason he’d done something as outrageous as taking a huge, dirty motorbike into a children’s ward. She’d gone so pale. Been so lost for words and … when he’d thought about it later there’d been something in her eyes that had suggested she was all too familiar with the kind of pain life could dish out sometimes.

      How did she know that? What had happened to her?

      Something big enough to make her the way she was? As if she didn’t want to connect with people. Almost as though she was afraid of the good things life could offer.

      Why?

      It wasn’t as if she was a wimp. It took guts to see a medical degree through. And brain power. And … she wasn’t that bad looking. If she undid those buttons and took off those glasses and let her hair do something remotely natural, she could be a different person.

      Connor found himself grinning as he angled his reddened but virtually sterile hands under the stream of warm water that he activated with the foot control. He was fantasising about a scene where Kate was the cliché librarian or secretary who loosens her clothing, sheds the spectacles and then shakes out a magnificent mane of hair to transform from a prude into a total vamp for some bemused but appreciative guy.

      Like him.

      The grin became a grimace. What was he thinking?

      Just as well the cute new nurse was there to tie the strings of his gown. She could line up with at least half a dozen of his previous girlfriends and be like a pea in a pod. Great looking and great fun to be with, at least until they got ideas about it meaning more than it did.

      This afternoon’s case was a long and complicated one. A pillion passenger on his big brother’s bike, fourteen-year-old Dillon had such badly broken bones in both his legs and one arm it was going to be a considerable challenge to restore normal function for the teenager. The bones needed precise alignment, using external fixation, and there were tendons and ligaments to patch together. There were also quite long periods when Connor had to step back to allow other specialist surgeons to work their magic with the nerves and blood vessels that needed major repair.

      Just the kind of opportunity he knew how to take advantage of. The new nurse was being used as a gofer as she got used to her new working environment and there were times when she wasn’t required to fetch or carry anything so she was standing around watching as well.

      Connor stood beside her.

      ‘Hey … You’re a new face.’

      A bit of a new face anyway but Connor had seen her disappearing into the female changing room so he’d seen the long blonde hair that was now covered by a disposable hat. The lower half of her face was covered by a mask now too but he’d already seen her smiling at the nursing staff she’d arrived with. Having only her eyes visible made them even more appealing. Very blue they were. Reminded him of … hell, any number of women probably.

      ‘I’m Bella,’ she whispered. ‘This is my third day at St Pat’s.’

      ‘Connor,’ he murmured back. ‘Delighted to meet you, Bella.’

      Her eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘I’ve heard about you.’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘All good things, I hope.’

      ‘Depends on your definition of “good”.’ Bella giggled and earned a disapproving glance from a senior nurse.

      The anaesthetist glanced