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Callie laughed. ‘I think Dr Coleman deserves those accolades.’ She’d only seen Cade on and off briefly over the intervening days, which was just as well because she was fast developing a crush on his medical prowess.
As if his body wasn’t bad enough!
‘We both do,’ a deep voice rocking a sexy accent said from behind her.
Kathy laughed as Callie turned. ‘See, Cade agrees with me.’
Callie’s stomach went into free fall at the sight of Cade lounging in the doorway. His business shirt was rolled up at the elbows, his tie knot loosened, somehow making him look more wicked frat boy than a skilled prenatal surgeon. ‘Cade,’ Callie said, turning back to face Kathy for the sake of her sanity, ‘is being too kind.’
‘Nonsense,’ he said, and Callie didn’t need to look around to know he was closing in—she could sense it. ‘You put the twins’ interests first and sought the most cutting-edge treatment option available. That’s gutsy. Trust me, a lot of doctors out there rank voodoo higher than what I do.’
His sleeve brushed hers as he drew level and Callie’s stomach looped the loop.
Ray stuck out his hand and Cade shook it as he said, ‘Voodoo or not, we owe both of you.’
‘Just remember,’ Callie said. ‘Weekly ultrasounds are vital. Vital. A good diet and rest, too. You’re at a higher risk of premature birth so you really do need to take it a little easy.’
‘I will,’ Kathy promised.
‘Ray?’ Callie said, addressing him. ‘You and I both know that Kathy wouldn’t know how to take it easy if it came up and bit her on the backside so I’m relying on you to police it, okay? It’s very important.’
‘Hey,’ Kathy objected good-naturedly.
Ray nodded, ignoring his wife. ‘No worries, Doc.’
‘Is she always like this?’ Kathy grumbled to Cade.
Cade looked at Callie speculatively. Who knew? He knew she was a consummate professional. He knew she was an excellent neonatal specialist. He knew she wasn’t afraid to take a risk.
But he hadn’t stuck around long enough in any of his dealings with her in the past to know what her bedside manner was like. To know that she fussed over her patients—and not just the babies.
Who’d have thought that beneath her busy, professional exterior she was a bit of a softie?
‘Only with those who don’t obey my rules,’ Callie jumped in, not wanting to hear whatever answer Cade was cooking up in his brain. Talking about her like she wasn’t here was just too intimate somehow and she’d already been forced into enough intimacy with him this week, thanks to this case.
Sure, they’d worked on cases before—the occasional consult—but this one felt more personal. Was it timing, landing so soon in her lap after the fundraiser and her five-thousand-dollar bid? Or the excitement and professional milestones involved? Or was it the rapport they’d both built with Kathy and Ray as they’d worked together in the fight for their twins’ lives?
‘You must be ready to knock off,’ Kathy said, changing the subject. ‘Please tell me you guys swan off to glamorous city nightclubs on the weekend, dancing and drinking fancy cocktails until the sun comes up.’
‘Don’t answer her.’ Ray smiled. ‘She’s just trying to live vicariously.’
Kathy stuck her tongue out at her husband. ‘Spoilsport. Do you know how long it’s been since I had a cocktail or danced till dawn?’
Callie laughed at the note of longing in Kathy’s voice but couldn’t help but notice the protective way she cradled her belly. ‘I hate to break it to you but a glass of red wine and an early night is about as exciting as it gets.’
‘Yep,’ Cade confirmed, ‘hitting the beach is about it for me.’
Although he did have a sudden hankering for Shiraz.
When Callie’s foot hit the still-warm sand a couple of hours later she told herself it was about getting some fresh air. Just because she didn’t often come to the beach it didn’t mean she couldn’t. She had felt restless after work and when the ocean was a stone’s throw away it had seemed stupid not to take advantage of it.
Not that she wanted to swim. But a walk was a healthy outlet for her restlessness and if she should happen to bump into Cade in his boardies—all wet and clingy—well, that wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy.
With a good hour before the sun would even begin to fade from the sky, Callie slogged through the thick, softer sand, heading straight for the shoreline where it was easier to navigate. The patrolled area of the beachfront was relatively busy and she dodged groups of teenagers whooping it up in thank-god-it’s-friday jubilation and holidaying families taking advantage of the damaging Australian sun finally losing its sting.
The tide was on its way back in as Callie set out, walking away from the impressive Surfers Paradise skyline behind her. A brisk wind picked up her hair and she was pleased she’d pulled it into a loose, low ponytail. The way strands had already tugged free and whipped across her face didn’t bode well for the state it would be in when she got back to her apartment.
She kept her eyes fixed on the choppy ocean as the crowds thinned out. An occasional jogger passed her but other than that it was just her footprints in the sand before the ocean quickly erased them. Water occasionally licked at her ankles and splashed up her legs and she pulled the skirt of her strapless black sundress up a little, anchoring it into the elastic sides of her underwear to try and keep the hem dry.
The number of people swimming lessened as she moved farther away from the flagged area and Callie couldn’t help but feel concern for those who were swimming outside the boundaries of what the professionals considered safe. The Gold Coast was known for its fabulous beaches and magnificent surf, which was one of the advantages of working at the GCCH—killer views from every floor. But it was also notorious for its dangerous rips and all-too-frequent drownings.
The last thing she wanted to do on her relaxing walk was to have to pull someone out of the ocean half-dead.
Realising she was thinking like a doctor rather than enjoying the ambience, Callie, reined in her thoughts.
Beach. Zen. Bliss.
Relaxing.
No NICU. No sick twins. No work for two whole days. No on-call, either.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
That worked well for a few seconds until the form of the jogger heading in her direction became clearer and she realised it was a shirtless Cade. That’s when she forgot the breathing-in bit for a moment or two until the words ‘Oh, hell’ fell from her lips of their own volition and things returned to their normal function.
Sort of.
What a fool she’d been to think he looked better in his scrubs than a tux. Clearly, his birthday suit was going to win hands down when it came to things Cade looked good in. Certainly if the top half was anything to go by!
He recognised her at about the same time she recognised him and he gave a surprised smile and a half wave as he continued to pound towards her. She slowed her pace as his tanned, nicely muscled chest swayed closer into her line of sight with every movement of his body.
Her gaze dropped lower, following the fascinating trail of hair that arrowed down, bisecting the ridges of his abdomen before disappearing beneath the band of shorts that rode very low on his hips.
She stopped as Cade pulled up in front of her and said, ‘Hey.’
Sweat beaded on his forehead but he didn’t even have the decency to be too out of breath or smell sweaty. In fact, her nostrils flared as salt and sand and sea mixed with Cade’s earthy male fragrance. A wave swamped her ankles and she didn’t even notice until he grabbed her elbow and pulled her higher up the beach.
‘You jog,’ she said, dragging her gaze to his face, where a slight shadow darkened his jaw. ‘I thought Americans preferred the gym.’
Cade laughed at the stereotyping. ‘I used a gym in New York because it’s a bit far to the beach. But in L.A. I used to jog on the beach all the time.’ He stuck out a leg and bent at the waist, performing a stretch now that he’d stopped running so abruptly.
‘I have to say, though, I’m a little disappointed. I thought Australians were supposed to have kangaroos on their beaches. I haven’t seen one yet.’
Callie frowned for a moment before realising he was calling her on her gym quip. ‘Funny,’ she said.
He stood and grinned. ‘So, are you swimming?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no.’ Callie shook her head. ‘I don’t swim in the ocean.’
Cade raised an eyebrow. ‘Why not?’
‘I like to be able to see what’s swimming around with me.’
‘Ah, you’re scared of being taken by a shark.’
Given that sharks were just one of the hazards in Australian oceans, her fears were more varied than that, but it would do for the purposes of this explanation.
‘Pretty much.’
‘You know that’s really rare, right? Sharks are much more frightened of us. Statistically very few people worldwide die from shark attacks.’
Callie gave him a bald look. ‘I come from a small country town. It’s a four-hour drive to the nearest beach. Statistically no one’s ever died from a shark attack where I’m from. I’d like to keep it that way.’
Cade laughed. ‘Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to the sand, if you don’t mind.’
Callie’s mobile rang and she fished it out from where she’d stashed it in the cleavage of her strapless bra. Cade lifted an eyebrow at the action. ‘Didn’t want to bring a bag with me,’ she said, as she looked at the display. ‘Hell. It’s my mother. Hold on for a moment—it won’t take me long.’
Cade watched her as she walked away slightly and talked. The wind blew her skirt against her legs, outlining their athletic length, the elastic waist emphasising the curve where his hand had rested the other night as they’d danced, and the strapless top showed off the beautiful curves of her shoulders and collarbones and outlined the thrust of her breasts. Hair had escaped from her ponytail and was blowing across her face, which was free of make-up.
So this was casual Callie. He’d seen her around the apartment building, but only either coming home from or going to work. Other than that he’d seen her in a stunning green dress.
He had to wonder how she’d fill out a pair of blue jeans.
Or his sheets, for that matter.
Callie ended the phone call quickly and he watched as she stuffed the phone back where she’d pulled it from and felt about fifteen years old when his belly clenched at the glimpse of cleavage.
‘What are you doing on Sunday night?’ she asked, as she walked towards him.
Cade blinked at the unexpected question. She looked harried and he had a feeling he knew where this was going. ‘Going on that date with you?’
She nodded grimly. ‘Good answer.’
‘Your mum?’
‘My parents. They’re passing through on their way to visit my uncle up on the cape.’
It wasn’t exactly how Cade had pictured she’d call in her debt, and dinner with the parents had been something he’d spent a lifetime avoiding. But this was purely a business transaction. ‘Where are we going? What should I wear and who do you want me to be?’
Callie stared at him blankly. She loved her parents but they’d never understood why she’d moved away from home or why she hadn’t tried harder to make her marriage work. An evening of recriminations wasn’t her idea of fun. Cade would be a good buffer. And something else for them to talk about other than her and Joe.
‘Don’t know. Don’t care. And just…be yourself. I’ll let you know the details on Sunday.’
Cade nodded. ‘I can do that.’
‘Right, well, I’m going to head home,’ she said. God knew, she could do with that drink now.
‘Sure I can’t tempt you to come in?’ Cade said, nodding at the surf.
Callie was sure he could tempt her to do almost anything but she knew how she dealt with uncertainty and the feeling that her life was spinning out of control.
Sex. And she couldn’t take another rejection right now.
‘Nope. I’m fine.’
‘Suit yourself,’ he said, saluting her as he headed for the water.
‘Wait,’ Callie said. ‘You’re not supposed to swim here,’ she said. ‘You’re supposed to swim between the flags.’
Cade grinned. ‘You’re not much of a rule-breaker, are you?’ he said, before running the rest of the way into the sea and disappearing into a wave.
Callie waited for his head to bob up before she moved on in case her non-rule-breaking self needed to pull him out of the ocean when a rip chewed him up and spat him out.
She still needed that date on Sunday night, after all.
His head bobbed up and she relaxed. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he called out.
She glanced at his chest. Oh, she knew all right.
CHAPTER THREE (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)
CADE GOT HIS WISH on Sunday night when he knocked on Callie’s door and she stepped out in a pair of faded denim jeans that hugged her butt, legs and hips to perfection. She wore a dark purple blouse that was firm around her breasts and rode low on her cleavage but was loose around her torso, the hem fluttering to her waist. Her hair was down, framing her face and falling lightly on her shoulders.
Dark kohl and mascara highlighted those amazing eyes and a touch of gloss on her mouth made sure he’d be looking nowhere else.
He gave a low whistle and she laughed but it sounded strained and didn’t reach her eyes. ‘And to think you passed this up,’ she quipped, as she pulled her door closed and brushed past him.
‘Can I renege?’ he teased as he followed her. The swing of her denim-covered buttocks was a thing of beauty.
‘Nope. You blew it,’ she said. ‘And now you’ll always wonder.’
Cade grinned. Well, she was definitely right about that. Although, to be fair, he’d spent a lot of time wondering before tonight, as well.
They travelled down in the lift to the underground car park in companionable silence and it wasn’t until they were on the road that either of them spoke again.
‘Getting used to driving on the left?’ Callie asked.
When he’d offered to drive to the restaurant she’d agreed. Tonight was probably going to require a degree of alcoholic fortification just to get through it, so having a designated driver was one less thing to worry about.
Cade nodded. ‘Yep. Only driven down the wrong side a few times.’
Callie blanched. ‘A few times?’
He shrugged. ‘It was back at the beginning.’
