Unlocking Her Surgeon's Heart. Fiona Lowe

a big city where no one would think to stop and talk to him if he was sitting on the sea wall at the Middle Park beach.

      His life had been put on hold once already and he had no intention of tying himself down to another human being, animal or fish. ‘I’m happily single.’ If he’d hoped that by telling her that it would get the woman to back off, he was mistaken.

      ‘There’s a fine line between happily single and happily coupled up,’ Linda said with the enthusiastic smile of a matchmaker. ‘And you’re in luck. There are some lovely young women in town. The radiographer, Heather Barton, is single.’

      One of the other women called out, ‘Actually, she’s dating Emma Trewella now.’

      ‘Is she? Well, that explains a lot,’ Linda said with a laugh. ‘Still, that leaves the physiotherapist. She’s a gorgeous girl and very into her triathlons. Do you like sports, Doctor?’

      He stared at her slack-jawed. Had he been catapulted backwards in time to 1950? He couldn’t believe this woman was trying to set him up with someone.

      ‘Or perhaps you’d have more in common with the nurses?’ Linda continued. ‘I’m sure three of them aren’t dating anyone at the moment …’

      The memory of ringless white hands gripping pink folders and sky-blue eyes sparking silver arcs shot unbidden into his mind.

      ‘Lucy, Penny and.’ Linda paused, turning towards her group. ‘What’s the name of the pretty nurse with the blonde hair?’

      Lilia. He tied his shoe laces with a jerk and reminded himself that he wasn’t looking to date anyone and even if he had been, he most certainly wasn’t going to date her. Despite her angelic good looks, her personality was at the opposite end of the spectrum. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had horns and carried a pitchfork.

      ‘Grace,’ someone said. ‘Although is she truly blonde?’

      Noah stood up quickly, dusting his black pants free of sand. ‘That’s quite an extensive list, Linda, but I think you’ve forgotten someone.’

      She shook her head, the magpie deterrent cable ties on her helmet swinging wildly. ‘I don’t think I have.’

      ‘What about the midwife?’

      He thought he heard a collective intake of breath from the other women and Linda’s smile faltered. ‘Lily’s married to her job, Doctor. You’re much better off dating one of the others.’

      The words came with an undercurrent of a warning not to go there. Before he could ask her why, there was a flurry of ringing bike bells, called farewells and the group took off along the path—a bright slash of iridescent yellow wobbling and weaving towards the noon sun.

      Lily stared at the appointment sheet and groaned. How could she have forgotten the date? It was the midwifery centre’s bi-monthly doctor clinic. Why had the planets aligned to make it this month? Why not next month when Noah Jackson would be long gone and far, far away? The luck of the Irish or any other nationality was clearly not running her way today. She was going to have to work in close proximity with him all afternoon. Just fantastic … not!

      As the town’s midwife, Lily operated independently under the auspices of the Melbourne Midwifery Unit. When a newly pregnant woman made contact with her, she conducted a preliminary interview and examination. Some women, due to pre-existing medical conditions such as diabetes or a multiple pregnancy, she immediately referred to the obstetricians at the Victoria or to the Dandenong District Hospital but most women fitted the criteria to be under her care.

      However, it wasn’t her decision alone. Like the other independent midwife-run birth units it was modelled on, all pregnant Turraburra clients had to be examined by a doctor once in early pregnancy. Lily scheduled these appointments to take place with the GP on one afternoon every two months. Today was the day.

      Her computer beeped with an instant message from Karen.

      Grumpy guts is on his way. Good luck! I’ve put Tim Tams in the kitchen. You’ll need three after working with him all afternoon.

      Karen had been having a whinge in the tearoom earlier in the day about Dr Jackson. She’d called him cold, curt and a control freak. Lily was used to Karen getting defensive with new staff members who questioned her but she couldn’t believe Noah Jackson could be quite as bad as Karen made out. She’d offered Karen chocolate and wisely kept her own counsel.

      ‘You ready?’

      The gruff tone had her swinging around on her office chair. Noah stood in the doorway with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and one hand pressed up against the doorjamb—muscles bunched and veins bulging. A flicker of something momentarily stirred low in her belly—something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Fear immediately clenched her muscles against it, trying to force it away. For her own safety she’d locked down her sexual response three years ago and it had to stay that way.

      Unlike yesterday, when Noah had looked like the quintessential urban professional, today he was rumpled. His thick hair was wildly wind-ruffled, his tie was stuffed in between the third and fourth buttons of his business shirt and his black trousers bore traces of sand. Had he spent his lunch break at the beach? She loved the calming effects of the ocean and often took ten minutes to regroup between clinic sessions. Perhaps he wasn’t as stuck up as she’d first thought. ‘Been enjoying the beach?’

      Shadows crossed his rich chocolate eyes. ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.’

      She tried hard not to roll her eyes. Perish the thought he might actually find something positive about Turraburra. Stick to talking about work. ‘Today’s clinic is all about—’

      ‘Pregnant women. Yeah, I get it. You do the obs, test their urine and weigh them and leave the rest to me.’

      I don’t think so. She stood up because sitting with him staring down at her from those arcane eyes she felt way too vulnerable. Three years ago she’d made a commitment to herself that she was never again going to leave herself open to be placed in a powerless position with another human being. Even in low heels she was closer to his height.

      ‘These women are my patients and this is a rubberstamping exercise so they can be part of the midwifery programme.’

      His nostrils flared. ‘As the doctor, isn’t it my decision?’

      Spare me from non-team-players. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you were a surgical registrar but suddenly you’re moonlighting as an obstetrician?’

      His cheekbones sharpened as he sucked in a breath through his teeth and she reeled in her fraying temper. What was it about this man that made her break her own rules of never reacting? Of never provoking a man to anger? Of never putting herself at risk? She also didn’t want to give Noah Jackson any excuse to dismiss her as that crazy midwife and interfere with her programme.

      ‘I take that back. As Turraburra’s midwife, with five years’ experience, anyone I feel doesn’t qualify for the programme has already been referred on.’

      His gaze hooked hers, brimming with discontent. ‘So, in essence, this clinic is a waste of my time?’

      ‘It’s protocol.’

      ‘Fine.’ He spun on his heel, crossed the hall and disappeared into the examination room.

      She sighed and hurried in after him.

      ‘Bec,’ she said to the pregnant woman who was sitting, waiting, ‘this is Dr Jackson, our current locum GP. As I explained, he’ll be examining you today.’

      Bec Sinclair, a happy-go-lucky woman, gave an expansive smile. ‘No worries. Good to meet you, Doc.’

      Noah sat down behind the desk and gave her a brisk nod before turning his attention to the computer screen and reading her medical history. He frowned. ‘You had a baby eight months ago and you’re pregnant again?’

      Bec laughed at