скачать книгу бесплатно
‘I suppose,’ she said nonchalantly, trying to deflect his interest in her reasons for being there, which did not seem to be abating easily with anything she said.
It wasn’t the Spanish Inquisition, but it felt close. Phoebe did not want to go into the details of her failed engagement to Giles. Nor her desperate need to escape from him and her mother to a place neither would find her. And there was no way he would ever hear from her the tale of the bridesmaids from hell bedding the groom. It was all too humiliating. And still too raw.
Heath was her temporary boss and he would be leaving once his father’s knee had healed. The less he knew the better. In fact the less everyone in the city knew about her the better.
‘Your father’s interest in harnessing the power of biomechanics and advanced medical technology to challenge convention and his ensuing breakthrough results were huge draw cards for me to come and work with him. And I wanted to know more about his collaborative approach to co-morbidities. Your father wrote a great paper on the subject of the co-operative approach to treating systemic problems.’
Heath sensed there was more, but he took her cue to leave the subject alone. He appreciated she had a right to her privacy on certain matters. Just as he did to his own. And there was no need for him to know too much, he reminded himself, as they would be working together for a relatively short time and then he would be leaving. Theirs would be a brief working relationship. Nothing more.
But, stepping momentarily away from being her very temporary boss, he had to admit Phoebe was undeniably beautiful.
Phoebe shifted awkwardly in her seat, not sure if Heath had accepted her response and they could move on. Unaware that her glass was empty, she casually took another sip through her straw. Suddenly the loudest slurp she had ever heard rang out. To Phoebe’s horror, apparently it was the loudest the people at an adjacent table had ever heard too, as they shot her a curious stare.
The sound echoed around the café. Phoebe’s eyes rolled with embarrassment. Only half an hour before she had passed out in his arms, revealed far too much of her legs, and now her manners were more befitting a preschooler. She wanted to find an inconspicuous hole and slink inside. Heath had such a serious demeanour she could only imagine what he was thinking. It was, without doubt, the worst first day on the job of anyone—ever.
‘I told you they make the best iced coffee. There’s never enough in my glass either,’ Heath said, his mouth almost forming a smile.
It was the first time, in the hour or so since they’d met, that she had seen him show anything even vaguely like a smile. And it was the most gorgeous almost-smile she had ever seen. Her heart unexpectedly skipped a beat.
Giles would have been mortified, she thought. He would have shot her a glare that told her she had embarrassed him. His body language would have reminded her that it was unladylike without saying a word. She would have felt his displeasure while those around would have had no idea. But Heath didn’t appear to react that way, and it surprised her. Apparently in his eyes it was not cringeworthy behaviour—or if he thought it was he certainly masked it well.
She felt her embarrassment slowly dissipate. Maybe it wasn’t the worst day ever after all. And that was confirmed when he continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
‘So, how do you see this working arrangement? Are you happy to split your time with taking half of my father’s post-operative patients and the remainder to be new patients, along with a surgical roster?’
‘That sounds great to me. I’m fairly flexible—not a hard and fast rules kind of woman—so we can just see how it all works out, and if we need to move around within those parameters we can discuss it as it unfolds.’
Heath didn’t feel the same way at all. ‘You’ll learn quickly that I’m a rules kind of a man. I live by a number of them, and if I set something up then I like to stick by it. So I’d rather we made up our minds and set up now the way it will play out.’
‘I guess …’ Phoebe replied, a little taken aback by his rigid stance on their working arrangements. She had heard that Australian people were laid-back. Heath didn’t fit that bill at all. ‘But in my opinion most situations have both a teething period and a grey area. There’s generally room to manoeuvre and move around with some degree of compromise if you’re willing to look for it.’
‘Not with me. Once I’ve made a decision, it’s rare that I’ll shift my viewpoint. In fact it would take something extraordinary to make me change my mind.’
While she appreciated Heath’s honesty upfront, she thought she would pity whoever lived with him if they got the bathroom roster wrong. ‘Well, then, since it’s only for a month let’s go with your way. You undoubtedly know the practice and the patient load better than I do, so I’m happy to carve it in stone right now if that’s how it’s done around here.’
Heath appreciated her wit, but made no retort.
An hour later they were still at the café. Once they had agreed to their working arrangements Heath had dropped all other lines of questioning and given Phoebe the low-down on the city she would call home for a few months.
Despite the ease with which they spoke, Heath had still not had his questions answered about Phoebe’s motives for relocating. But he did know she was a lot more adaptable than he was. It made him curious, although he didn’t verbalise it.
With her academic record the surgical world was quite literally her oyster. There would be few, if any, practices or teaching facilities that would not welcome her into their fold with open arms. There was no ring on her finger, but he would not be arrogant enough to assume that there was no man in her life. If there was then he too must be as adaptable as Phoebe, and willing to compromise and let her travel to the other side of the world for work. He was not that type of man.
‘Adelaide is very quiet, I assume?’ she asked as she relaxed back into her chair and admired the artwork on the café walls.
‘Yes—a little too relaxed in pace for me. It’s very different from Sydney, which I prefer. I grew up here, but moved to Sydney about ten years ago when I finished my internship. I was offered a position on the east coast and I took it.’
‘I’d like to see Sydney one day, but I think Adelaide will be lovely for the next six months.’
‘Adelaide’s like a very large country town,’ Heath replied. ‘And that’s the reason I never stay too long.’
‘A large country town suits me. It isn’t the size of the town but more the attitude of the people that matters.’
Heath watched Phoebe as she studied the eclectic collection of watercolour paintings and charcoal sketches on the wall. She was smiling as she looked at the work of novice artists and he could see her appreciation of the pieces. There was no sign of the big town superiority that he had thought she might display, and she didn’t launch into a spiel about comparisons with Washington, as he had expected.
‘That’s what my father keeps telling me when I try to get him to relocate to Sydney. He won’t budge. He likes the growing medical research sector in Adelaide, even if it’s a small city by comparison.’
‘From all reports he’s one of the finest podiatric surgeons in the southern hemisphere. I look forward to meeting him when he’s up to it.’ While Heath had not enquired more about her reasons for relocating, to cement that line of questioning shut she added, ‘Your father’s work is revolutionary in its simplicity, and I respect his conservative approach of proceeding, where possible, with surgery as the second not the first option. His expertise in soft tissue manipulation and trigger point therapy is impressive. A lot of practitioners routinely go for surgery, but your father is quite the opposite, preferring to view his patients through a holistic filter and follow a slightly more protracted but less invasive treatment plan.’
Heath could see that his father’s work had made quite an impression on Phoebe. ‘I hope you’re not disappointed that you’ll be working with me. It’s like ordering Chinese takeout and having pizza arrive on your doorstep.’
Phoebe liked his quirky analogy, although it seemed at odds with his less than lighthearted nature. He was far from a poor second, and she silently admitted that pizza was a favourite of hers. Heath was charming and knowledgeable, and his reserved demeanour was a pleasant change.
Although his rigid viewpoint might possibly test her reserves of patience in the long term, she was very much looking forward to working with him in the short term. She doubted he would disappoint on any level, but professional was the only level she was interested in exploring.
Heath considered the woman sitting opposite him for a moment. She was a highly regarded surgeon in their mutual field, but there was a mixture of strength and frailty to her. It was as if she was hiding, or running away from something. And he wasn’t sure why he wanted to work her out, except that it was as if she was second-guessing herself on some level. He had no idea why she would.
Heath knew that she was an only child, that her father was a Presidential advisor and her mother a Washington socialite, and that she’d spent her high school years at a prestigious private school in Washington. She had openly chatted about that. He also knew that she had graduated top of her class from her studies at the New York College of Podiatric Medicine, and had done her three-year residency at the university hospital.
It would appear she had the makings of someone who could be quite consumed with their own self-importance, but she wasn’t. She was, he’d realised quickly, very humble—because Heath knew of her Dux status from his father, not from her. Phoebe hadn’t brought it up. It was a huge honour and she was omitting it from her abbreviated life story over morning coffee.
In that way she was not unlike his wife, Natasha—a former model and fashion designer who had also been very humble about the accolades she’d been given both on and off the runway.
Natasha had not been at all what Heath had imagined a model would be like the night he’d met her at a fundraising event. He’d been thirty and she only twenty-three. After a whirlwind courtship they’d married, and Natasha had fallen pregnant soon afterwards. They’d both been so excited and looking forward to growing their family.
Heath had come to learn that she worked actively and tirelessly for many causes—including one to support research into a cure for the disease that had eventually claimed her life. And from that day, Heath’s purpose in life—his only focus outside of his work—had been raising their beautiful little boy, Oscar, who had been given life by the only woman Heath had ever loved.
And nothing and no one would ever come between them.
Not his work and not a woman.
It was a promise he’d made to himself five years earlier. The day he lost his wife. The day he’d walked away from the hospital without her and realised he would never again hold her in his arms or wake next to her in the bed they had shared. He’d vowed that day that he would dedicate his life to being the kind of father to their son that Natasha would have wanted.
And he would never wake with another woman in his arms.
He had been true to both promises.
Oddly, sitting with Phoebe, he felt almost comfortable, more at ease than in a long time, and he suspected their mutual professional interests had a lot to do with that. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken in depth to a woman about his chosen career and engaged in a meaningful conversation. He had taken lovers over the years, but nothing more than a shared night. He left before dawn, and conversation was at the bottom of the list of his needs on those occasions.
‘I’d better let you go and I’ll head back to the practice and sort out the air-con, or we’ll have melted patients for the next few months,’ Heath told her in a matter-of-fact tone as he stood. ‘It’s only December, and both January and February are hotter months in general.’
Phoebe was taken aback by the way Heath ended their time together. He had invited her to go for a drink and now he was excusing himself quite abruptly. Not that she minded at all. In fact she was relieved, as it gave him no further opportunity to quiz her about her personal life.
‘You mean hotter than this?’ Phoebe asked.
‘Not hotter, but hot for longer stretches.’
Phoebe shrugged. ‘Well, then, I really hope you get the air-conditioner working.’
He paid the tab and walked Phoebe to the door and then out into the street. His body language was stiff and distant again. Any hint of being relaxed had evaporated.
‘I’ll see you in a few days. Take some downtime to recover from your trip and I’ll see you on Thursday morning at eight. If you get a chance, try to head to the beach or a pool. It will do you the world of good.’
Phoebe nodded. ‘Okay, thanks—maybe I will.’ She walked away, then suddenly turned around and called out. ‘Heath, we never discussed Thursday’s patients.’
Heath turned back and looked at Phoebe for the longest moment, then glanced at the laptop tucked loosely under his arm. ‘We didn’t, didn’t we?’
CHAPTER FOUR (#uac37a972-452e-56b1-a828-7026e8ac2f2f)
‘DADDY!’
Heath was welcomed home by tiny arms that wrapped around his knees and hugged him ferociously. He bent down and returned the hug before he picked up his son in his strong arms and swung him around like a carousel ride. Oscar was his reason for living. He had been the beacon of hope during his darkest days. Heath would never let Oscar down. No matter what the future held, he would be his son’s anchor through life. He was the only thing that brought a smile to Heath’s face and love to an otherwise broken heart.
‘How’s my favourite little man?’ he asked, kissing his tiny son’s chubby cheek.
‘I’m good, Daddy.’
Heath lowered him to the ground, then sat on the sofa. Oscar climbed up next to him.
‘Can we go to the pool tomorrow—can we, please?’
Heath considered his son for a moment. He had his mother’s deep brown eyes and he was the apple of his father’s. There was nothing Heath wouldn’t do for him, but he did like to have fun and tease him a little sometimes.
‘I thought you hated the pool? You distinctly told me the other day that you never, ever wanted to go swimming again. You said that you would rather eat live worms than go to a swimming pool!’
‘Don’t be silly, Daddy. I loooooove the pool!’
Heath picked Oscar up and put him on his lap and held him tightly. ‘Then it looks like tomorrow we’re off to the pool, my little man.’
Phoebe enjoyed a lazy sleep-in the next day. It would end, she knew, when the air-conditioning at the practice was repaired, so she made the most of it. Then she had a quick shower, put on shorts, sandals and a T-shirt, and went out to buy a newspaper. While she enjoyed a light breakfast she planned on reading local stories of interest and about the issues affecting the town she would call home for the near future.
When she arrived home there was a delivery man on her doorstep, holding a medium-sized box, which she signed for and carried into the kitchen.
She discovered it was filled with Christmas gifts. All wrapped in colourful paper and equally pretty ribbons. And every one had her name on it.
She rang her father, but it went to voicemail. ‘Hi, Dad. I know you’re probably busy, but thank you so much for my gifts. By the way, how did you get the presents here the very day after I arrived?’
A few minutes later, as she was putting the presents away in her wardrobe, she received a text message.
I posted them a week before you left. Hope you like them. PS I would have been in trouble if you’d cancelled the trip! Xxx
Although she would miss her family, knowing they were only a call or a text away made her feel less lonely.
After breakfast and a thorough read of the newspaper, in a small cobblestoned patio area that had an outdoor table setting for two under a pergola covered in grape vines, Phoebe felt even more positive about her temporary stay in Australia. She was actually enjoying this time to herself, and she decided after completing the crossword and finishing her freshly squeezed orange juice that Heath’s suggestion of spending some time swimming wouldn’t be so bad.
She could do with some sun. A long, relaxing swim at the beach or in a pool was just what the doctor ordered. With no preference, but also no idea where to go, she looked up some local beaches and public pools on the internet.
The beach, she discovered, would mean a thirty-minute tram trip to Glenelg, or there was a pool about a ten-minute cab ride away in Burnside. She opted for the pool.
Searching in her suitcase, she found her floral bikini, sarong and sunblock. She slipped on the bikini, stepped into her denim shorts and popped a white T-shirt over the top. Then, with a good book, a towel, a wide-brimmed hat and a bottle of water in her beach bag, she called for a cab.
Phoebe had found a perfect spot on the lawn area, adjacent to a huge shade cloth and overlooking the pool. She surmised the sun would get intense later, and she would shift into the shade, but she wanted to enjoy a few minutes of the warm rays and assist her vitamin D intake.
The pool was picturesque, with huge gum trees and parklands surrounding the fenced area. There were quite a few families and some small groups of young mothers with babies enjoying the peaceful ambience of the late morning. Children were laughing and splashing in the crystal water of the wading pool and more serious swimmers were head down, doing lengths of the main pool.
Phoebe had spread out her large blue towel and set up camp. She had spied the fruit in the refrigerator before she’d left home, so she had packed an apple and some strawberries in with her water. Slipping out of her shorts and T-shirt, and putting her hair up atop her head, she strode across the lawn and climbed into the water for a long, relaxing swim.
She was right—it was just what the doctor had ordered. Quite literally.
She lay on her back, lapping the pool slowly and looking up at the stunning blue sky through the filter of her sunglasses. Her worries seemed to dissipate—not completely, but more than she had imagined they would when she had alighted from the plane just a day earlier.
Fifteen minutes later she climbed from the pool and dried herself off with her sun-warmed towel before she spread it out and sat down. With her sarong beside her, in case she needed to cover up, she put on her floppy straw hat, pulled out her book and flipped the lid on her sunblock. She thought of how if she was back in Washington she would be trying to get the ice off her windscreen—instead she was about to cover herself in sunscreen. Perhaps there was justice in the world—or at least a little compensation in the form of sunshine.
She poured a little lotion into her palm and began to rub it over her shoulders.
‘Phoebe?’
Phoebe spun around to see Heath standing so tall he was blocking the sun. His chest was bare and his low-slung black swimming trunks left little to her imagination. Beside him was the cutest little boy, with the same blond tousled hair, dinosaur-patterned swim trunks, and a very cheeky smile. But very different eyes. While Heath’s were the most vivid blue, his son’s huge, twinkling eyes were a stunning deep brown.
‘Hello, Heath,’ she managed, a little shocked to find him in front of her, and a little more shocked by how gorgeous he looked in even less clothing than the day before.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t think you’d actually take my advice about getting some sun and a swim.’
‘It sounded like a good idea,’ she replied, trying not to show how embarrassed she felt in choosing the same outdoor pool as Heath. He had described the city as a large country town, but now she wondered how small Adelaide was to have found them in the same place. ‘And I do need to get some vitamin D.’
As she said it Phoebe realised she was wearing only a string bikini, and suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hadn’t thought twice about it with the other pool guests, as she didn’t know them, but for some reason she felt more exposed in front of Heath. She wanted to reach for her sarong and bring it up to her neck, but realised how silly she would appear.
Heath sensed that Phoebe was feeling awkward in that very brief and very stunning bikini. He had witnessed her discomfiture the previous day, when she had been so intent on tugging her skirt into place. But suddenly his eyes just naturally began to roam her body. Every curve was perfect, he thought, before he quickly slipped on his sunglasses, then turned his attention back to his son. Where it had to stay.
‘Oscar.’ Heath began ruffling the little boy’s hair with his hand. ‘This is Phoebe—she’ll be working with me for the next month, while Grandpa gets better.’
‘Hello, Phoebe,’ the little boy responded. ‘You’re pretty—like Aunty Tilly.’
Phoebe felt herself blush. ‘Thank you, Oscar, that is a very nice thing to say.’
‘It’s the truth,’ he replied. ‘My kindy teacher isn’t as pretty as you, but she can sing really well. Can you sing?’
‘No, I’m afraid I can’t.’
‘That’s okay. Don’t feel bad. My grandpa can’t sing either—he tries in the shower, but it sounds terrible and the dog next door barks. He barks a lot. I don’t know if Daddy can sing. I’ve never heard him try to sing. Even when there’s Christmas carols he never sings along.’
‘That’s because my voice is worse than Grandpa’s,’ Heath added, knowing his inability to sing Christmas carols had nothing to do with the quality of his voice. There was much more to it than that. ‘It’s best I don’t try or the dog next door might run away.’
‘You’re silly, Daddy. The dog can’t open the gate.’
Phoebe smiled at their happy banter. It was the first time she had seen a full smile from Heath. The other time there had been only the hint of a smile. She thought he should do it more often.
‘Can I go in the pool now? Can I? Can I? Please, Daddy?’ Oscar’s words became faster and louder as they came rushing out.
