Tempted By Collection

She loved Zac. She knew it bone deep. He was the one for her. Sniff. But she wasn’t right for him. Never would be.

With two coffees on board and a hot shower having washed away the sleep sludge on her skin, Olivia headed out her front door to see Josaia, and tripped over a paper bag with a takeout logo on it. Breakfast. Gluggy cold pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup filled the container she opened. ‘Oh, Zac, you’re making this so hard for me.’

She dropped the bag into her rubbish bin and headed for her garage, only remembering when the door rolled open that her car was still in the hospital’s car park. Back inside the house she changed her shoes. Walking to the hospital would help clear her head.

Maybe.

Josaia was arguing with Donny about getting out of bed when Olivia arrived at his room. ‘I don’t like staying in bed.’

‘You have to wait until Dr Olivia’s checked you over,’ his grandfather growled.

‘If Josaia’s that keen to get up then there’s no reason why he shouldn’t,’ Olivia told them.

Josaia grinned. ‘See?’ But when he moved pain filled his face and he stopped.

‘Take it slowly.’ Olivia spoke firmly. ‘I need to look at your face first. Then you’d better be careful what you do until Dr Zac sees you.’ She needed to get out of there before he turned up and started asking why she hadn’t returned any of his messages.

‘He came when I was asleep.’ Josaia slowly sat up, his damaged cheek turned up to her. ‘My face is better, isn’t it?’

If he could think that with a line of stitches running down his cheek then he was well on the way to recovery. ‘Lots better.’

‘My friends are going to like me again.’

Thud. Olivia’s heart sank. ‘Josaia, you are still going to have a scar, just not as obvious and no more lumps and bumps.’

‘My arm’s going to work properly.’

‘Soon, yes. You have to do a lot of work first, exercises that Dr Zac will show you.’ But those friends? ‘Let’s take everything slowly, eh?’ She sat down beside him and turned his head so that the overhead light shone on the wound. No redness or puffiness, just a neat line that would heal into a thin, flat scar that over time would fade to a pale mark on his skin. ‘That’s looking good.’ Pride filled her. Hopefully she’d made this boy’s life a little easier.

If only her mother was as easily pleased when she visited later.

‘I am not going into one of those rehab places. They’re full of pious do-gooders who think having a drink is a crime.’

Clocked driving at eighty-five Ks per hour in a residential area while drunk was a crime. ‘You’re lucky Judge Walters has given you another chance to fix your life. He’s ordered you to go into a clinic. If you don’t you’ll appear before him again and this time he’ll throw the book at you. You already have one drunk-driving conviction.’ She drew in a breath. ‘I’ve made you an appointment for tomorrow at the clinic in Remuera. I’ll come with you.’

‘Bet that man you went away with wouldn’t do anything naughty, like having a drink too many.’

Olivia sighed at her mother’s classic tactic of changing the subject. ‘Leave Zac out of this.’

‘Why? You got the hots for him?’

I don’t want him sullied by you. ‘We’re friends, nothing more.’ Nothing less either. If only …

‘He’s cocky, thinks he’s every woman’s gift.’ Her mother looked smug as she raised her coffee to her lips, then put it down without a sip.

‘No, Mum, he does not.’ Confident, comfortable in his own skin, but not cocky.

‘You watch. He’ll get what he wants from you and walk away. He’s not the settling-down type.’

Mum always aimed for the bull’s-eye. Never missed either. ‘You know an awful lot about Zac for having spent very little time with him.’

‘He’s going to hurt you, darling. Trust me, I know men and how they operate. You are fair game with this one.’

She snapped, ‘Zac is not like you think. You’re insulting him with your accusations.’

‘Watch this space,’ her mother drawled, before changing tactics again. ‘Darling, I’m only thinking of you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know what that’s like, believe me.’

‘Why are you doing this? You want to destroy everything I hold dear.’

‘Ha, you care about him. Knew it. I worry about what happens to you. I’m your mother, I want you to be happy.’ Her hands shook so badly coffee slopped onto the table.

Mum’s frightened. Of what? She’s been going on about Zac. Aha. Got it. She’s afraid she’ll have to share me. She’s always done this. She drove Dad away, pushed friends out of my life, and I’ve gone along with it, believing I can’t love two people at once, can’t be there for anyone but her.

‘Goddamn,’ she said under her breath. Have I been wrong? ‘Mum, I’ve got to go. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.’

‘Come back, Olivia. I need to talk to you.’

‘No, Mum, I’m done talking.’

She ran out to her car, leapt in, jerked the gearstick into drive, and sped away.

Cornwall Park was busy with families and their dogs, with joggers, walkers, and tourists heading up to the top of One Tree Hill. Olivia strode out under the massive trees, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, her chin down. And let it all in. Everything that had shaped her. Dad abandoning her. Her mother. Zac. Her life.

The answers for the future were elusive. But I want to try. I love Zac. No denying it. So now what? Race around to his apartment and tell him the good news? Leap into his arms and hang on for dear life?

Even as she spun around to return to her car and do just that, common sense prevailed.

Am I absolutely sure?

Hurting Zac was not on the agenda. There were a lot of things to think through, and she’d take her time, spend the next few days getting her head around the fact that she could be about to change her life for ever by giving her heart to Zac. By letting go of some of the control that had kept her on track most of her life.

Scary. Downright terrifying.

The days dragged. Sleep was elusive and work tedious. Her head was full of arguments for and against getting involved with Zac. More involved.

I love you, Zachary Wright. But I can’t have a life with you, her old self told her. I’ll hurt you.

Every day she got texts.

Hey, isn’t Josaia doing well? He’s like a new kid. Hugs, Zac.

Yep, their young patient had turned into a bright and bubbly boy desperate to get out and play.

CC, you want to have dinner at that new Italian place? Zac.

Absolutely, yes. But she didn’t.

You okay? I’m here for you. Hugs, Zac.

No, I’m not okay. I’m missing you. So much it’s like there’s a hole where my heart used to be. She thought of those shoulders she liked to lean against, that strong body that made her feel safe and warm. And missed him even more.

Did your mother go into the clinic this week? More hugs, Zac.

Yes, surprisingly, Mum had.

Olivia didn’t answer any of the texts. When she found a huge bunch of irises in gold and purple paper on her doorstep on Thursday night with a note saying, ‘Love, Zac,’ she wanted to cry. Oh, all right, she did cry. But she didn’t ring to thank him. Or to acknowledge what his message might mean.

Friday night he sent photos of his nephews. ‘Check these guys out. I’m mending bridges.’ The cutest little boys hung off Uncle Zac’s arms, beaming directly at the camera. Zac looked happy but wary. It wasn’t hard to see him with his own kids hanging off him like that. Her heart rolled. She wanted that—with Zac. Children. She had no idea how to raise kids but with Zac at her side she’d learn.

Saturday morning her phone rang. She sighed when she saw the number. ‘Hello, Mum.’

‘Darling, come and get me. I hate it here. They treat me like a child. I can’t have anything I want.’

‘Where are you ringing from?’ Patients weren’t allowed any contact with family for the first few weeks.

‘I’m at a coffee shop around the corner from the clinic. The coffee’s terrible but the owner let me use the phone. Hurry, Olivia. I can’t stand the place.’

‘Mum, listen to me.’ It hurt to breathe. ‘I am not coming to get you. You have to go back and start getting better.’

‘It’s him, isn’t it? He’s told you to do this.’

‘Don’t blame Zac.’ I am finally opening my eyes and seeing that to be kind to you I have to be strong and hard. ‘I want you to stop drinking.’

‘Come and get me so we can talk about it,’ her mother wheedled.

‘Sorry, but I’ve got someone to see.’ Why had she left it so long? Zac was her man.

‘What about me?’

‘Mum, I love you, but I am about to put me first.’ Me and Zac. ‘Don’t bother coming around to my house. I won’t be here. Please go back to the clinic. Do this for yourself.’ She cut their conversation, then turned the phone off and put it in a drawer. She was on a mission and didn’t want any interruptions.

In her bedroom she gazed into the wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. That red dress stood out amongst the dark winter clothes. Reaching for it, she hesitated. Zac had lost his mind when she’d worn it in Fiji but this was early afternoon and it was very cold outside. The many trousers and blouses were too work-like. The green skirt she pulled out didn’t excite her either. In the end she slipped into the designer skin-tight jeans and silk blouse she’d worn on the day of the gala when they’d caught up again at the hotel. Zipping up the knee-high boots, she did a twirl in front of her mirror. ‘Not bad.’ For the first time in days she could feel some control coming back, could feel her body tightening up. The thigh-length coat from that day completed the look, and made her smile briefly.

A quick check of her make-up and a swipe of her hair with the brush and she was on her way, not giving herself time to think about what she was doing. Laying her life on the line was what this was about.

Stop thinking, just concentrate on driving through the downtown traffic.

What if—?

No what-ifs, she told herself as she pressed the buzzer for Zac’s apartment. This is do or don’t. And don’t is no longer an option.

‘Hello?’

It’s not too late to run. ‘Zac, it’s me.’

A soft buzzing and she was stepping into the elevator. She didn’t hesitate but pressed the button for the penthouse floor and held herself ramrod straight, ready for anything, refusing to acknowledge the flapping sensations in her stomach.

Zac was standing outside the elevator door as it opened. His smile was friendly but cautious. ‘Olivia.’

‘Zac.’ Suddenly the full import of what she’d come to say slammed into her like an avalanche. Her hand went out to the wall to steady herself.

He took her elbow. ‘Come into the apartment.’

Through the thick layers of coat and silk blouse she felt heat spreading out from where his fingers touched her, filling her with courage. Reaching behind her, he said, ‘Let me take your coat.’

As she shrugged out of the sleeves she breathed deeply, boosted her courage. Then she turned to face him. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been returning your texts or thanking you for the flowers.’

‘That’s okay.’

‘But it isn’t. I was rude, and there is no excuse for that. Zac, I came to tell you I love you.’ There. She’d done it.

That smile didn’t change; didn’t fade, neither did it widen or soften. ‘I was hoping you might.’

‘I think I always have, but I’ve been so busy trying to deny it that I’ve made a lot of mistakes.’ This was hard, yet relief was catching at her. ‘Is there a future for us?’

‘What do you want, Olivia? Marriage? Children and a dog?

Too much too soon. She took a step back. ‘Could we try living together first? See how that goes? I didn’t have good role models growing up and I’d hate to make the mistakes my parents did.’

Zac closed the gap, standing directly in front of her. He ran a finger down her cheek and over her chin. ‘No, sweetheart. It’s all or nothing. I love you and I want the whole picture.’

He loved her. To hear those words did funny things to her heart. Wow. To hear Zac tell her he loved her was the most wonderful thing. She smiled at him, sure her face was all goofy-looking.

Then the rest of what he’d said hit her, and she shook her head. ‘I know nothing about happy families. I don’t even know if I can love you and kids and my mother. I’ve kept myself shut off from all that, only ever loved one person.’

His mouth softened and the kiss he placed on the corner of her mouth felt lighter than a butterfly landing. ‘I’ll help you. But I don’t want a practice run. Let’s get married, jump in boots and all, a full commitment to each other and our lives. I believe in you, Olivia. If you falter we’ll work it out. Just as I expect you to do for me. My family history isn’t any more encouraging than yours and yet I want to make it work with you.’

Hope began to unfurl at the bottom of her stomach. ‘Really? You want all that with me?’

Now he gave her the full-blown grin she enjoyed so much. ‘That’s only the beginning, girl. There’re the hot nights in bed, the lazy days lying in front of your fire and eating takeout food, the days when we’re both working so hard the only contact we have is by text, but we’ll always know we’re there for each other.’

‘What about the days my mother does her thing?’ He’d seen what she could do.

‘We support her and try to turn her back on track. We do not split up over her. We will be together, in love, war, and everything in between.’ Those arms she’d been hankering for wound around her waist and drew her close so his eyes looked directly into hers. ‘I love you, Olivia, more than life itself. Please, say you’ll marry me.’ His mouth hovered close to hers, waiting.

‘Okay. Yes, please. I will. Let’s get married. Sooner rather than later.’ Talk about jumping in at the deep end. But somehow she didn’t think she was going to drown, not with Zac holding her. ‘Did I mention I love you?’

‘Not often enough for me to be absolutely sure,’ he said just before claiming her mouth with his.

Minutes later Zac lifted his head. ‘Now I know why I had the impulse to buy a bottle of your favourite bubbles. Come on, let’s celebrate.’

‘Just one glass.’

‘CC, relax. You are not an alcoholic.’

‘No, but I want to take you to bed and have my wicked way with your body, and too many glasses of champagne might spoil the fun.’

‘Can’t argue with that.’ Zac grinned and hooked his arm through hers. ‘Come on, we’ve got a cork to pop. And you can tell me why it took you so long to drop by.’

‘Not tonight. Tonight’s for us. But I’ll fill you in soon enough. Promise.’

EPILOGUE

Fourteen months later

‘HAPPY WEDDING ANNIVERSARY.’ Zac sank onto the edge of their bed and placed a tray with breakfast on her knees. In the corner beside the small bowl of maple syrup for the pancakes and bacon was a tiny box.

Picking it up, she locked her eyes on the man she adored and who had been everything he’d promised and more since that night she’d told him she loved him. ‘What’s this?’

‘Only one way to find out.’

When she flipped the lid a set of exquisite emerald earrings and a matching bracelet sparkled out at her. ‘They’re beautiful,’ she squeaked.

‘For a beautiful woman. Here.’ He slid the bracelet over her hand. ‘Perfect.’

She put the earrings in and then reached for the top drawer of her bedside table. ‘Happy anniversary to you.’ She placed a small, thin box in his outstretched hand and sat back to watch his reaction.

‘What’s this?’ He gaped at the plastic stick he held up. ‘Are we—?’

‘Yes, we’re pregnant. And I can hardly wait.’ This past year had been wonderful, and not once had she faltered. Not even when Mum had run away from the clinic twice. With Zac there she could face anything. ‘We’re going to be parents, great parents.’

‘Yeah, sweetheart, we are.’ His kiss was made in heaven and had consequences that kept them busy for most of the morning and left the pancakes to go cold and gluggy on the plate.

Her hero for sure.

One Life-Changing Night

Louisa Heaton

A kiss to mean forever?

For ER nurse Naomi Bloom, a handsome man only spells bad news. So when she’s forced to move in with her gorgeous new boss, Dr. Tom Williams, she is certain he’s strictly off-limits!

Tom swore he’d never love again after losing his wife. But Naomi’s presence is a breath of fresh air, and Tom finds his long-held vow challenged. Will he be ready to embrace the risk when one kiss leads to a night these two will never forget?

For Sukidoo, the best friend I’ve never met. xx

CHAPTER ONE

SHE HADN’T EXPECTED to fall into the arms of a stunningly handsome man on her first day at work. Or to have climbed up a wobbly ladder in Welbeck Memorial’s A&E department. But it was nearly the end of January and the Christmas decorations were still up.

Naomi had offered to take them down at the end of her shift, which had been a long twelve hours, and her head was buzzing with information and protocols and procedures. But she had nothing waiting for her at home—not even a cat—and, quite frankly, putting off going back to her little bedsit with its dingy second-hand furniture had seemed like a good option. Starting a new life was one thing, but starting it in a derelict, ought-to-be-bulldozed ground-floor flat with a growing mould problem was another.

When she’d offered to take the decorations down, the sister in charge had been very sweet. ‘Oh, you don’t have to do that! We’ll get one of the porters to do it. It’s your first day.’

But she’d insisted. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. Besides, it’s bad luck to keep them up this long. Bringing the old year into the new.’

‘Well, just be careful. There’s a stepladder in my office you can use, but make sure you get someone to steady it for you, or you’ll have Health and Safety on my back.’

Naomi smiled to herself, remembering the health and safety lecture she’d sat through that morning. She would be sensible and follow the rules. Just as she’d always done. She located the boxes for the Christmas decorations piled high in the sister’s office and spent the first hour removing baubles and tinsel from the lower branches.

The old, artificial tree was almost bald in parts and she could see it was decades old, dragged out from its box year after year to try and brighten the place up. Her nose wrinkled as she leant too far into one of the branches and breathed in dust and the smell of Christmases past.

As she pulled her face free of the tree, another stench—this one of alcohol and body odour—mixed into the fray, sweeping over her like a wave. A scruffy-looking man with stained clothes staggered towards her. She turned to steady him as he passed by, hoping to steer him back in the direction of the waiting room, but the drunk angrily turned on her instead. ‘Leave me alone! Shouldn’t you be working instead of playing with that tree? I’ve been waiting to be seen for ages and you’re out here messing around!’

They often saw people who were drunk in Accident and Emergency and Naomi knew they were mostly unthreatening. All she had to do was be non-confrontational and pleasant and they would be satisfied.

She smiled and led him back into the waiting room. ‘You’ll be seen soon, sir, don’t worry.’

‘Bloomin’ patronising me! You should be working!’ he slurred.

She saw no point in telling him she’d already worked a twelve-hour shift and that she ought to have been at home by now. He didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to hear that he would be treated. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long now.’

Once he was settled back into his chair, she went back to the tree. To get the decorations down from the top she needed to go up the ladder. And that meant she needed someone to help steady it.

She headed back into the unit, looking for someone who was free, but everyone was so busy. And she didn’t know anyone well enough yet to interrupt their work and ask them to help her. Because what was more important? Patient care, or an old tree?

Naomi looked down the long corridor at the stepladder. It wasn’t that high. Just three steps. What harm would it do, if she was quick? Surely Matron wouldn’t like her taking away a member of staff to hold a ladder when they could be treating someone.

Hmm. I’ll be careful. These health and safety measures are always too cautious anyway.

She positioned the ladder where she needed it, noticing that it was a little uneven, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was about to pounce and tell her off, and climbed up. She picked off the first few baubles and strings of tinsel and dropped them into the cardboard boxes beneath, hearing them plop into the decorations below. She worked quickly, steadying herself when she felt the ladder wobble a bit beneath her feet. The star on the top of the tree was just a tiny bit out of her reach and so she leant for it, stretching. The ladder wobbled even more so and she felt it start to move beneath her. ‘Oh!’

She felt herself fall and braced herself for the impact and the hard, unforgiving floor. But instead, her fall was broken by a solid, reassuring pair of arms.

Stunned, she looked up to say thank you, but her voice somehow got stuck in her throat.

This man was nothing like the drunk that had accosted her a moment ago. This man had captivating eyes of cerulean blue, a strong jawline and he smelt just...heavenly! Masculine and invigorating.

‘Whoa! Are you mad?’ That voice. The most perfect accent she’d ever heard. Refined. Educated. Even if it was currently scolding her.

She blushed madly as she stared up into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat. She was embarrassed at having fallen. Ashamed at having been caught up the ladder when she’d been told to get someone to help her and desperately doing her level best to appear normal and not swoon like a heroine in a romance novel. She’d been determined to move to London and start life as a strong, confident, independent woman and yet here she was: it was only her first day at work and she was lying in a man’s arms.

A very handsome man’s arms! Her cheeks flamed with heat as he easily stood her upright, making sure she was steady before he let her go. When he did, she almost felt disappointed to be out of those arms, but...oh!

He was tall, almost a head taller than her, well past six foot, and he had the most startling blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was looking her over, assessing her, his gaze questioning.

She managed to find some words. ‘Thank you, I...shouldn’t have been up there.’ She blushed again, brushing her hands down her clothes as if she were covered in dust and dirt. She wasn’t. She just didn’t know what else to do and she had to do something! Naomi had never been held in a man’s arms like that. Cradled. Protected. Vincent had never held her that way. Not that that was his fault.

This man was probably used to women blushing in front of him. Women fawning at his feet, unable to string a sentence together.

He was dressed smartly in what had to be a tailored bespoke suit that fitted his finely toned body to perfection. This man knew how to dress and he dressed well, his clothes accentuating his best features. A red scarf slung casually around his neck highlighted the auburn tones in his hair.

Still, she wasn’t going to let herself be blown away by a gorgeous man. She knew men like this usually came with health warnings.

Get involved at your own risk.

Look at what had happened to her mother, for instance.