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She threw the pillow aside and stomped over to the window overlooking the small courtyard that separated their town houses. She could see people drinking and dancing in Jake’s living room. All the lights were blaring and the appetising smell of steak and sausages and onions was still lingering in the air. The sight of all that fun going on was a cruel reminder of her aching loneliness. She hated feeling so bitter, but how could she help it? Everywhere she looked people were acting as if they had not a care in the world.
Didn’t Jake Chandler have to show up for work in the morning? What was he thinking, partying on as if there was no tomorrow? So much for his sanctimonious lecture on binge drinking. What a hypocrite!
Kitty decided there was only one way to attack and that was on the front line. She ditched her nightwear and dressed in her track pants and a shapeless cotton shirt and slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops. It wasn’t sophisticated or glamorous, but at this ungodly hour she didn’t give a damn.
* * *
‘Wasn’t that the doorbell?’ asked Rosie, Jake’s younger sister, her eyes brightening with hope. ‘Maybe Robbie decided to come after all.’
Jake gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, kiddo,’ he said. ‘You know what he’s like. He probably won’t even remember it’s your birthday.’
‘Yeah, what was I thinking?’ Rosie’s shoulders dropped resignedly and she made her way back to her friends.
Jake let out a quick sigh before he turned to open the door to find his cute posh little neighbour standing there. ‘Hey,’ he said flashing her a smile. ‘You changed your mind. Do you want a beer?’
‘Your music is keeping me awake,’ she said, sending him an arctic look. ‘I would very much appreciate it if you would turn it down.’
Jake ran his gaze over her pretty girl-next-door face with its cloud of chestnut hair that was currently looking more bird’s nest than brushed. Her cheeks had two spots of bright red on them and her plump pink mouth was pushed forward in a pout. ‘My kind of music not your thing, huh?’ he said. He leant indolently against the doorjamb, one ankle crossed over the other, as he rubbed at the regrowth on his jaw. ‘Let me guess…Classical, right?’
Her gunmetal-grey eyes flashed at him. ‘I hardly see how my taste in music has anything to do with you,’ she said.
‘It will if you play the violin at all hours of the day and night.’ He narrowed his eyes at her enquiringly. ‘You don’t, do you? Play the violin, I mean.’
She gave a little shuffle from foot to foot, as if the ground beneath her feet had suddenly become too hot to stand on. ‘What do you have against the violin?’ she asked, looking at him with an equally narrow-eyed look.
‘I knew it!’ he said, thumping the doorjamb with the flat of his palm in victory. ‘It was either that or the viola or the cello. You don’t strike me as a woodwind or brass girl. Strings are your thing.’
‘And I suppose no strings is yours?’ she returned, with an arch of one of her brows.
‘How’d you guess?’ Jake said, grinning.
Her eyes gave a disparaging little roll. ‘I can recognise a player at three paces,’ she said.
‘We’re not talking about musical instruments, are we?’ he asked.
Her mouth tightened primly, reminding him of his kindergarten teacher when he’d brought a dead mouse in for Show and Tell.
‘I’m not interested in what you do in your private life,’ she said. ‘You can play as hard and as often as you like.’
‘Oh, I always play hard and often,’ Jake drawled, watching in amusement as her face deepened even more in a blush as she realised her unintentional double entendre.
‘I can see there is no point in continuing this discussion,’ she said in a starchy tone. ‘But let me tell you: your puerile sense of humour is not what I was expecting in an A&E director.’
Jake looked down at her uptilted heart-shaped face with its glorious crown of tousled hair. He could smell the sweet, old-fashioned but delightful white lilac scent of her shampoo. It danced around his nostrils, teasing them into an involuntary flare. He could see the tiny dusting of freckles on the aristocratic slope of her nose. He could see her currently pursed but tempting full-lipped mouth.
He felt lust hit him in his gut like a closed-fist punch coming out of nowhere.
He wanted to bend down and cover those lips and feel them soften and swell beneath his. He wanted to taste the silk of her skin, to run his hands over the gentle slope of her breasts to see if they felt as soft and gorgeous as they looked. He wanted to feel her hands on him, their softness exploring his hardness. He wanted her to come down off that high horse of hers and ride him instead.
Whoa, there. He slammed the brakes on his thoughts. He had a whole month to go before he cashed in on the bet with his sister. The shortest month, admittedly, but it could prove to be the longest—especially if Kitty Cargill kept turning up in front of him looking so hot and sexy and combative.
‘I can’t say you’re quite what I was expecting, either,’ he said.
Her brows knitted together over her eyes. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Jake allowed himself a quick study of her mouth before he met her gaze. ‘I had a read-through of your application,’ he said. ‘I was away when the acting director approved your appointment.’
Her slim throat rose and fell, the action like a small creature wriggling under a carpet. ‘And?’ she said.
‘I noted that you’d failed the practical on your ATLs,’ he said.
Her small white teeth nibbled at her bottom lip. ‘Yes…I’m thinking about doing the Australian equivalent while I’m here,’ she said.
‘I expect every member of my team to be on top of their game,’ Jake said. ‘There’s an EMST course I’m directing in a month’s time. There might be a space left if you contact the course co-ordinator, otherwise book in to do the next available one.’
‘I’ll look into it,’ she said.
‘What made you come all the way out to Australia for three months?’ he asked.
Her eyes moved slightly to the left of his. ‘It seemed like a good opportunity to get to know my aunt and uncle and three cousins who live here,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t seen them in a while. Years, actually.’
Jake nodded towards her town house. ‘You bring anyone with you?’ he asked. ‘Boyfriend? Partner?’
A flush came over her cheeks and her eyes moved away from his. ‘No.’
His eyes went to her left hand, where a pretty little ring rested. ‘Is that just for show or is there a fiancé waiting for you back in England?’
She twirled the ring on her finger with her thumb. ‘I’m not engaged,’ she said. ‘This is a—’
‘Let me guess,’ Jake said, flashing her another quick grin. ‘A costume?’
She gave him a gimlet glare. ‘It’s a promise ring,’ she said. ‘I got it when I was sixteen. I can’t get it off.’
‘You could have it cut off,’ Jake said. ‘Or would that be breaking the promise?’
She frowned at him. ‘Is this inquisition really necessary?’
He gave a negligent shrug. ‘Just making conversation,’ he said. ‘You sure you wouldn’t like a drink? I’ll get the gang to turn the music down. I might even be able to find some Vivaldi or something on the playlist on my iPod.’
‘Please don’t put yourself out on my behalf,’ she said, sending him another one of her icy looks. ‘Goodnight, Dr Chandler.’
‘Goodnight, Dr Cargill,’ Jake said, but she had already stalked back across the courtyard.
CHAPTER TWO (#u8d0850a1-6236-520e-8515-12a32ce49e0b)
‘AND this is the staff tea room,’ Gwen Harold, the unit’s ward clerk, informed Kitty on Monday morning. ‘There’s a larger doctors’ room upstairs, but the lifts are so busy that by the time you get there it’s almost time to get back. Dr Chandler organised this little room for us instead. Have you met him yet?’
‘Um…yes,’ Kitty said, trying not to blush. ‘A couple of times now.’
Gwen smiled. ‘He’s a fabulous director,’ she said. ‘He’s tough, but fair. And he’s got a great sense of humour. I’ve worked with a lot of A&E directors in my time but Jake’s the best by a long shot. The way I see it, we have enough drama coming through the doors without adding to it with rants and raves from the top. Jake’s always cool in a crisis. Never seen him lose his temper—not even with the junior staff.’
‘He sounds like the perfect boss,’ Kitty said with a forced smile.
‘Oh, he’s got his faults,’ Gwen said. ‘He’s quite the playboy. I don’t think he’s ever had a relationship last longer than a couple of months. A heartbreaker, that’s what he is.’ She gave Kitty a little wink. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘Thanks for the warning, but my heart is quite safe,’ Kitty said in a self-assured tone.
‘Got someone back in England?’ Gwen asked.
‘No,’ Kitty said. ‘Not any more.’
‘Never mind, dear,’ Gwen said, patting Kitty on the arm. ‘Plenty more fish in the sea, as they say. Let’s hope you don’t land yourself a shark while you’re here, hey?’
‘I’m keeping well away from the water,’ Kitty said.
Gwen looked past Kitty and smiled. ‘Ah, speak of the devil,’ she said. ‘Jake, I believe you’ve already met our new doctor—Kitty Cargill from London?’
‘Sure did,’ Jake said with an easy smile. ‘Did she tell you she was dressed like a hooker at the time?’
Kitty threw him a furious little glare before turning to Gwen. ‘I was at a fancy dress party with my cousin,’ she explained. ‘I thought she’d broken her ankle, and since this was the closest emergency department I brought her in here. But I dearly wish I hadn’t, because it’s clear that Dr Chandler thinks it’s highly amusing to embarrass me about it at every available opportunity.’
‘Bad Jake,’ Gwen remonstrated playfully. ‘Leave the poor girl alone.’ The buzzer rang at the front desk. ‘That’s my break over. Hope you settle in well, Dr Cargill. Call me if you need anything. Bye.’
Kitty was still fuming. ‘Is there anyone in the hospital you haven’t told?’ she asked. ‘What about the cleaners and cooks and orderlies? Maybe you could release the CCTV footage. That would be quite hilarious, don’t you think?’
‘Now, why didn’t I think of that?’ Jake said with a gleaming smile.
Kitty reined in her temper with an effort. ‘I’d like to put that embarrassing episode behind me,’ she said.
‘I have to work here in a professional capacity. I don’t want patients and staff giggling behind my back every time I come to work.’
‘You’re very uptight, aren’t you?’
Her brows snapped together. ‘Pardon me for being a little tense, but right at this minute I’m having trouble figuring out if you are the director of this department or the ringmaster at a circus.’
The silence rang like the one left after the sudden cracking of a stock whip.
‘My office,’ he said. ‘Ten minutes.’
Kitty saw the hint of steel in his dark blue eyes before he strode away. Her stomach gave a nervous little flutter. She hadn’t been at work more than an hour. Was she going to be sacked on her very first day?
Jake Chandler’s office was down at the end of the unit, next to the ultrasound room. Kitty straightened her shoulders and gave the door a tentative rap.
‘Come in,’ he commanded.
She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. ‘I’d like to apologise,’ she said, clasping and unclasping her sweaty hands. ‘I was unpardonably rude to you. I don’t know what came over me. It was unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.’
He remained seated behind his desk, his dark blue eyes quietly assessing her as he clicked a ballpoint pen on and off.
Kitty chewed at her lower lip. ‘I suppose you think I’ve got no sense of humour.’
‘What I think is you’re only apologising because you’re afraid you’re going to get fired.’
She met his diamond-hard gaze. ‘Am I going to get fired?’ she asked.
He gave the pen another few clicks. ‘Do you think you deserve to be dismissed?’ he asked still nailing her with his gaze.
She quickly moistened her pavement-dry lips. ‘It depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether you have a sense of humour.’
He held her challenging look with implacable force. ‘Dr Cargill,’ he said. ‘I would like to make something quite clear right from the outset. I enjoy a joke with the best of them. I don’t believe in making an already tense and unpredictable workplace unbearable with autocratic or tyrannical behaviour. Humour is at times a safety valve in a department where life and death walk the same tightrope, to borrow the metaphor you used earlier. But one thing I will not tolerate in any shape or form is outright impertinence—especially from a newly appointed staff member who has not yet completed a full day of work. Do I make myself clear?’
Kitty ground her teeth until her jaw ached. ‘Yes, Dr Chandler.’
His bluer-than-blue eyes tussled with hers in a lock that made the silence hum with tension.
A funny fizzing sensation bubbled in her belly as his steely gaze slipped to her mouth. Her lips felt the brush of his gaze as if his lips had physically rested there. It was the strangest feeling—one she had never experienced before. She became aware of her mouth, her skin, her body and her senses in a way she never had previously.
It was disquieting.
It was unsettling.
It was threatening and yet somehow…alluring…
Kitty gave herself a mental slap. Jake Chandler was a playboy. She had already been warned about him. He was a heartbreaker, and the last thing she needed was another blow to her confidence by a player, not a stayer.
‘May I go now?’ she asked.
He gave his pen one last click before tossing it to one side and leaning back in his chair. ‘What did you do all weekend?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t see you come out of your house even once.’
‘I was unpacking.’ And moping and crying and wallowing in self-pity.
‘The social committee have organised a welcome-to-the-unit thing for all new staff members on Friday night at a bar in Bondi,’ he said. ‘Gwen will give you the details. It’ll be a chance to meet most of the permanent staff.’ His lips moved in a tiniest of twitches. ‘That is unless you have something or someone else already booked in your diary?’
She gave him a look. ‘So far I’m free.’
‘So it’s a date, then.’ He got to his feet and the room instantly shrank to the size of a shoebox.
Kitty tried to ignore the way his commanding presence made her feel so tiny and feminine. She had been an inch taller than Charles. She had worn ballet flats most of the time to compensate. But even in those ridiculous heels the other night Jake Chandler had towered over her.
But it wasn’t just his height. Something about him made her feel super-aware and edgy.
He exuded raw masculinity.
He was all primal male in the prime of his life. Testosterone pumped through his body like fuel through a Formula One car on full throttle.
