Название | The Most Magical Gift of All |
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Автор произведения | Fiona Lowe |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Medical |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408918371 |
‘After my most recent accommodation, a house sounds decadently luxurious.’ Can you hear yourself? Frontline really must have put her on the ropes—first her body hankering so strongly for Jack and now her brain being happy about a house. It was like being inhabited by a stranger.
Jack’s smile held a tinge of a grimace. ‘It’s a rambling, old homestead that doesn’t come close to luxurious, but then I guess it’s all relative. How much gear have you got?’
She inclined her head towards her large, beloved and well-worn rucksack. ‘That’s it.’
The blue in his eyes deepened against the violet and his voice dropped to a low rumble. ‘A woman who travels light is every man’s fantasy.’
Up until now only his eyes had devoured her but this was unambiguous flirting. Her lips dried and her tongue darted out to moisten them as she met his gaze, throwing herself into the strands of attraction that had been pulling strongly between them from the moment they’d met. ‘A woman who travels and doesn’t stay is every man’s fantasy.’
His eyes drifted over her again in his slow and all-encompassing gaze, and her breasts tingled, pushing against the lace of her bra while every other cell in her body opened up, clamouring for him. She thought she’d either ignite on the spot or melt in a puddle, consumed by need.
With an abrupt jerk, he slung her rucksack over his shoulder and strode towards the door. ‘Everyone, I’m driving Sophie to my place, and as from four o’clock she’s on my pager and on duty. Me? I’m outta town—first overnight stop, the Parachilna pub.’
He paused and turned back. ‘Don’t expect postcards, I’m going to be frantic doing nothing.’
Sophie caught a glimpse of sheer relief in his eyes as the assembled staff gave a good-natured cheer and voices called out, “Haven’t you left yet?”, “Be good,” “Safe travels,” and “Nice work if you can get it.”
Jack just laughed, turned and gave a backwards wave before he disappeared through the automatic emergency doors—a dark silhouette against the bright sun walking towards his future without a backward glance.
Sophie knew all about that.
She paused before following him, checking with Diana if she needed her back at the hospital this afternoon.
The nurse shook her head. ‘Spend the afternoon getting settled at Jack’s and looking around town. Mind you, that will only take you ten minutes, even if you do it leisurely. Then you can get a good night’s sleep because clinic starts at eight a.m. and, believe me, we’ll be working you hard on your first day.’
Busy was good. She’d learned about keeping busy from the age of twelve—it meant less time to think. ‘Right. I’ll be ready.’
Diana reached out and touched her gently and briefly on the arm. ‘I was teasing you about the working hard. Emergencies excepted, we’ll ease you into things, including teaching you about the Aussie sense of humour.’
The friendly touch surprised her. In England even when a colleague had known you for years they rarely touched you, and the women in the sub-continent had been either shy or cool. But Australians, it seemed, didn’t have the same reserve. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’
Diana smiled. ‘You better go and catch Jack or he’ll leave without you, because nothing is going to stop him getting away by four.’
And that’s probably a good thing. Jack Armitage was a temptation she wasn’t certain she could withstand or wanted to withstand for very long. Still, she only had to follow him to his house, receive the key and wave him goodbye. She ignored the jab of disappointment that her body gave her and walked briskly out through the ambulance bay where the mid-afternoon heat hit her like a brick wall. The black asphalt of the car park was sticky, partially melted by the heat, and the bright, white glare of the sun made it difficult to see. She immediately shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted towards a group of four-wheel-drive vehicles all clearly marked with the Barragong Health logo. She couldn’t see Jack.
A moment later the roar of an engine made her jump and she swung around to see Jack’s long leather-clad legs astride a sleek silver-and-black European machine—pure motorcycle luxury. He revved the engine, flicked up his helmet visor, raised one dark brow and then winked at her.
Instantly, her legs turned to rubber and she locked her knees in an attempt to stay standing. Stop it, stop it, stop it. So, he’s gorgeous and he flirts; big deal. He’s leaving town.
And that makes him perfect for you!
Sophie puffed out an indignant breath. She’d been desperately trying to ignore the goddess of free love who’d come out to play the moment she’d laid eyes on Jack Armitage. The goddess embraced life, specialised in spur-of-the-moment decisions, and Sophie had locked her down two years ago after her life had become complicated and she’d unwittingly inflicted pain on a good man.
I’ll never forgive you, Sophie. She was never going to risk hurting someone again, and since Simon she’d only dated men who were upfront about what they wanted—fun, good times and the short term. She didn’t do long term—couldn’t do long term—and that was why bad boys fitted the bill. It was the only safe way. But even her definition of ‘short term’ had never been as short as a few hours.
The engine’s roar calmed to a low thrum and Jack held out a helmet. ‘Have you got a jacket of some description?’
Sophie had managed to tear her gaze away from the man in black and realised her rucksack was strapped on the back of the bike. She glanced from Jack to the four-wheel-drives and back to him, confusion pounding at her. ‘Are we going on this? I thought I was following you in the vehicle I’m being supplied with while I’m here.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘You’re being provided with a four-wheel-drive, but it’s out at my place. Hop on; it’s only a short fifteen-minute trip and you can cuddle up behind me if you get cold.’
The goddess beamed. Now there’s an offer you can’t refuse—cuddling the gorgeous Jack before he leaves. She almost said, ‘Shh,’ but somehow she managed to stay silent, probably because her mouth had dried so fast at the thought of her chest tucked up firmly against his broad muscular back that her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth.
She didn’t trust herself. For six months she’d lived and breathed extreme caution and coming to Australia was part of her not having to second-guess every move to avoid a mine blowing her up. If she wrapped her arms around Jack, she was pretty certain she’d give into the ever-growing need to throw caution to the wind.
‘Hey, Sophie, hurry up. I’ve got a date with my departure, so hop on.’
‘Sorry, I seem to be in the habit of holding you up.’ She jammed the helmet on her head, adjusted the chin strap and reached out her hand. Her palm connected with the hard muscle of his shoulder and the tingling that shot up her arm made her stumble. Somehow, her foot found the foot-peg and with a practised swing she swung her leg up over the high touring seat, careful not to touch the exhaust pipe. A moment later her bottom hit the seat, and she no longer had an excuse to keep her hand on his shoulder, but it took a Herculean effort to pull it away.
He turned, surprise on his face. ‘You’ve done this before?’
‘A year spent in Asia and the sub-continent, and bikes are pretty much your only transport choice.’
That’s not how you flirt. The goddess rolled her eyes and took over. ‘And I’ve always been a sucker for a motorbike.’
‘And