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Return of the Maverick
Sue MacKay
Return of the Maverick
Sue MacKay
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u480b2c2f-63b8-5790-b675-45115c942665)
Title Page (#u60ce6f86-b3c7-5a2f-b27f-f5a94f2c15bb)
About the Author (#ua7f72920-b886-578d-a6e1-50f16a86ff63)
Dedication (#u9c307b44-b015-56f7-964c-87647fcd8f01)
Chapter One (#u65e69fdc-593e-50d5-80fc-125ad2cae23c)
Chapter Two (#u6a1871bd-1bc7-5f3a-bc80-6ff428b269c4)
Chapter Three (#u5ab7b95e-d39d-51a1-803a-f69234fb7022)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader
At the top of New Zealand’s South Island is Blenheim, set in a beautiful area with vineyards for as far as you can see and then some. The Wither Hills make a stunning backdrop, and the waters of the Wairau River seem to change colour depending on the season.
It is the perfect place for Erin and Brad to meet and fall in love. If only life was that easy. Both have painful pasts to deal with before they can find happiness. When Brad is forced back home he dreads facing his past, but being thrown into working with Erin leaves him no room for running away again.
I apologise to Lucky, the cat, for the role I have given her in this story. In real life she would never have done such a thing. I am thrilled to have finished this, my third Medical™ Romance. I hope you enjoy reading Brad and Erin’s story.
Cheers!
Sue MacKay
www.suemackay.co.nz
About the Author
With a background working in medical laboratories, and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Medical
Romance stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her husband in beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she can indulge her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling. She is currently training as a volunteer ambulance officer.
Dedicated to the girlfriends—Faye, Fay, Jill & Jen.
For the wine and coffees, laughter and tears,
and your amazing support 2010/11.
CHAPTER ONE
‘WHAT time did you set out biking this morning?’ the woman behind the counter asked as she totted up how much Erin Foley owed for her groceries.
‘Six.’ Erin rolled her shoulders, the muscles tight from bending over the handlebars. Her body felt warm, taut, fit. A hot shower would cap off a great ride and prepare her for the day ahead at the medical centre.
Savita shook her head. ‘You’re nuts. Sane people are still in bed at that hour.’
Erin grinned. ‘You were here when I went past on my way out.’ Scooping up the milk and pot of margarine, she pushed them into her backpack. Glancing at her watch, she scowled. ‘First day back from my holidays and I’m going to be late for work.’ First day working with the new GP. However temporary he was, he probably wouldn’t be impressed with her tardiness.
Not unless he was also a cyclist, and understood the need to train for mountain bike challenges. But she already knew he rode a Harley rather than pedalling an Avanti. Did he ride his motorbike to work? Take it on house calls? That would have the patients talking. Less chance of being late with a Harley too.
Savita laughed. ‘You caught me out. I got here just after five-thirty.’
‘And you think I’m nuts? See you tomorrow.’ Erin grabbed her bread, spun around and ran slap bang into someone standing right behind her. The loaf of bread fell from her fingers as she strove to keep her balance. Her other hand slapped against hard chest muscle.
Large hands gripped her upper arms. ‘Easy,’ growled a deep voice from somewhere above her head.
Erin instantly stepped back against the counter, trying to ignore the broad chest filling her sight. The stranger dropped his hands immediately. Shifting sideways, she tried to manoeuvre around him, but he moved at the same moment in the same direction. Briefly they danced around each other, trying to pass, until Erin stopped. ‘Your move.’
She flipped her head back to say more and blinked. Not because of the harsh summer sunlight streaming through the door, although with the morning temperature already in the mid-twenties that was glaring enough. No. It was the man standing right in front of her who’d taken her breath away.
The strikingly big man.
His white cotton shirt contrasted with the tanned skin of his throat, and was tucked into casual navy-blue trousers that fitted his hips and thighs to perfection. Her lungs squeezed, tried to take in air as he reached down to pick up her dropped loaf.
‘Your bread.’ Amusement laced that bass tone.
‘Thank you.’ Snatching the plastic-wrapped loaf from his extended hand, she shoved it into her backpack before slinging it over her shoulders, determined not to stare. But she failed. Noted how his arms now folded over his chest accentuated everything underneath that shirt. Lots of well-honed muscles pushed out the crisp fabric.
Erin swallowed with difficulty. Forced herself to look away. Unfortunately her gaze dropped, down to those thighs. Dear heaven. A sharp ache snagged her bottom lip where her teeth bit in. Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. Her fingers shook so that she had trouble getting the two ends of the pack’s straps to click together across her abdomen.
Men were not supposed to look like this. Good enough to eat. More than good enough to want go to bed with.
You don’t know who he is. And you want to sleep with him?
She blinked again, trying to blot out the image of him sprawled across her king-size bed. As if that worked. It would take more strength than she possessed to mentally delete that picture. Giving in to temptation, she continued her downward perusal. Big feet.
Another swallow.
If she turned back to Savita and tried leaving again, would she find he’d been a figment of her imagination? An illusion brought on by a drought of close contact with the male species?
She had dated a few times over the previous year, to test the water and expel some of the loneliness that dogged her. But even now that her guilt about her husband, Jonathon, had started ebbing away there was still the fear of losing her carefully gained control over her life. That tended to deter her from any serious relationship she might be interested in starting. The need to be in charge of her life was a big part of why she’d left the army two years ago; why she’d moved to the South Island and Blenheim rather than return to Auckland where she’d done her nursing degree; why she’d bought her very own house and planted a garden.
‘You said something about being late.’ The man’s voice matched his body. Big. Toned. Sexy.
‘Yes, I am,’ she answered. And getting later by the minute. But her feet were still anchored to the floor. A tremor ran through her. If she couldn’t move because of her knee-weakening attraction to this man, then she was in serious trouble. When was the last time she’d ever felt as though her skin was crackling because of a man? That had never happened. Not once. Not even Jonathon had managed to have that effect on her.
He was handing money to Savita for a newspaper, but watching her. ‘Do you usually go for long rides before work?’
Tugging her spine straight and her shoulders back, Erin looked directly up at his face. Sunglasses covered his eyes. But goose-bumps still lifted on her arms. His sun-bleached blond hair touched his shoulders. A scar ran from his bottom lip to his chin. His strong jaw line jutted challengingly. She could almost feel that mouth on her feverish skin.
She stammered an answer, ‘I—I’m training for a b-bike challenge that goes over a mountain pass down into Hanmer Springs.’
‘Sounds like hard work to me.’ He grinned at her, sending her stomach into a riot of spasms.
‘I enjoy it.’ She would not grab the counter for support. He’d notice and she didn’t want him to see how easily he’d rattled her. It was a senseless overreaction. He was a stranger and likely to stay that way. She’d never seen him anywhere around Blenheim, a small town where he’d have been noticed the moment he stepped outside his front door. And not just by her. He was a man that every female alive would notice. And would want. But for her he was out of bounds. Even a brief fling would mean giving up some of that control she valued so much. Damn it, she could already feel it slipping away and she’d been in his presence less than five minutes.
She headed outside and reached for her bike. He followed, the newspaper tucked under his arm. When she swung her leg over the seat his eyes tracked the movement, raising her heart beat to a ridiculously high rate for an extremely fit thirty-year-old. Keep this up and she’d fall off before she’d even got to the road. ‘I might see you around,’ she muttered, but didn’t pull out onto the bitumen.
Why was she making conversation with him? She didn’t know his name. And she didn’t need these strong and alien feelings of desire he’d switched on in her. A man like this would wake up the dead with his sexual allure, and she was only emotionally paralysed. She certainly didn’t want to grapple with the overwhelming guilt and pain of the past again.
But she couldn’t deny the bone-melting desire he’d turned on as easily as flicking a light switch. Her blood already hummed through her veins, sending tendrils of heat down to her toes, out to her fingers.
‘We could meet for a drink.’ His eyes lanced her, the warm colour of creamy fudge.
From somewhere deep inside Erin dredged up a reply. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think so.’ Not what her hormones were telling her, but what the sane and sensible side of her brain deemed was in her best interests.
‘Really?’ he drawled. He stood next to her, dwarfing her, which at five-eight wasn’t something she was used to.
Had he seen through her precarious self-control? ‘I really need to get going. I’ll be more than just a few minutes late for work now.’ She didn’t wait for his reply, instead pushed hard on the pedals and cycled down the footpath until a gap in the traffic allowed her onto the road.
But while she might be outwardly casually dismissing this guy, she wasn’t fooling herself. He was hot. And her body reacted to him like kittens to a saucer of milk. She wanted him.
She wasn’t having him.
Besides, right now she should be at home preparing for work and her first meeting with the man she’d once told in no uncertain terms over the phone that he was letting down someone very dear to her. The man who had started work at the medical centre last week while she’d been on holiday and whom she had to get on with if she was to keep the job that gave her so much satisfaction.
But who was that guy back at the shop?
Brad Perano knew he should’ve turned away the moment he saw her slide off the bike and straighten up. As she strode into the store her long legs had immediately snagged his attention. The attraction had been instant. He’d followed her without thinking about what he was doing. Who knew which paper he’d bought? He’d just grabbed blindly.
Next she’d be having him up on charges for stalking her if he wasn’t careful. Really? his brain taunted him as he watched her pedal away. She’d been interested in him too. He’d seen it in her widening eyes, in the way her teeth had bitten into her lip, in the dazed expression she’d worn as she’d tried to buckle that strap.
But she’d had more sense than him. She’d said no to his reckless suggestion of a drink together. He owed her for that. But he was flummoxed that he’d even asked the woman out when he’d vowed never to get close to any female again. Hadn’t he learned the lessons dearest Penelope had taught him so well? The one and only time he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable, his wife had gobbled him up like a hungry dog and spewed out the resulting mess years later.
The bright red helmet the woman wore was easy to follow as she weaved her way through the busy morning traffic. Then she turned a corner and he lost sight of her. Which was just as well. He’d intended getting to the clinic early to familiarise himself with the day’s patients. He didn’t like treating people without knowing their medical history thoroughly. He’d known some of these people when he’d lived here in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough district as a child; gone to school with them, partied, played rugby. Real friends he’d dumped on and left in the lurch.
To patients in a small community their doctor was a part of their lives. Now he had to get to know them all over again and hope they were willing to give him a second chance. Then there was the added humiliation of Penelope’s perfidy after she’d flaunted her extravagant lifestyle in their faces years ago. Would they treat him kindly? Or was he always going to be paying for his misspent youth and his crazy marriage?
Car tyres squealed. The sound came from the direction the woman had ridden. More screeches rent the air as other drivers slammed on brakes. A scream chilled Brad’s blood. Had she been hit? Car versus cyclist did not bode well. He’d seen that kind of accident all too often in Adelaide where he’d been living and working for the last three years. The cyclists always came off worst.
He ran.
As he turned the corner he saw a mangled bike lying in the middle of the road. Three people gathered around a body lying twisted in the wreckage. A bright red helmet caught his focus. And the breath he’d been holding eased out over his lips. The woman was kneeling beside a young child, her fingers on his wrist.
She was all right. The relief was immense and surprising. Even as he made his way to her side and knelt down he was questioning why he felt so charged around her.
She looked up, and her eyes widened as they had at the store. ‘I’ve called the ambulance but I don’t suppose by any chance you might be a doctor?’
‘It’s your lucky day. I am.’ He felt good to be able to say that, giving her what she wanted right at this moment.
‘Lucky day for the boy, not me. I didn’t really think I had a chance of my wish being granted.’ She turned to the child and concentrated on finding a pulse.
Oh, well, okay. She was thinking about the patient, which was exactly what he should be doing. Once again she’d distracted him. ‘How’s that pulse?’
‘It’s racing.’ She ran her free hand over the boy’s torso. ‘Hey, little man, can you hear me? I’m a nurse and I’m checking you over, okay?’ She got no answer.
A racing pulse indicated shock. Not surprising considering that the boy seemed to have been knocked off his bike by a small van. Brad studied the scene, noting the bike’s back wheel wrapped around the child’s leg, an arm lying at an odd angle indicating a fracture, and blood streaming from his forehead. He appeared unconscious. Brad delicately felt the young boy’s head for trauma injuries.
He turned to the nurse. ‘There’s a major contusion on the right-hand side of the head.’ Brain injury was a serious consideration.
‘Can we remove the bike without moving him?’ she asked.
‘You’re thinking of spinal injuries.’ He studied the way the boy’s foot was through the spokes. ‘We could but it’s best we wait for the paramedics so they can put a collar on first.’
They worked together, quickly and carefully, checking the boy thoroughly. Within moments an ambulance pulled up and a paramedic was with them. ‘Hey, what’ve we got?’
Brad quickly explained the injuries he’d noted while the paramedic applied a plastic collar, his gaze returning to the boy. Blond hair was plastered to the boy’s scalp. Brad’s belly suddenly clenched. The young innocent face, now very pale, dredged up a memory from deep in Brad’s soul.
Raw pain sliced through him, wrenched his heart. ‘Sammy.’ The name tore through him, spilled over his tongue, out into the street. ‘Sammy.’
His beloved boy hurting, his body broken, not moving at all. Sammy could be dying. He could have a serious brain injury. And his father couldn’t help him.
The nurse had a hand on his wrist, shaking him, talking to him in a calm voice. ‘Doctor, this is Jason Curtis. He lives just along the road.’
‘What?’ Brad dragged his gaze from the lad and turned to stare into the sincerest, deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen. The woman was telling him something important. He shook his head in an attempt to clear away the fog, and listened carefully.
‘Jason Curtis. His father works at the building centre.’ She dropped his wrist.
