which disappeared under the distinctive embroidered neckline of an Indian tunic-top. The blouse fell from narrow shoulders, pulling across round breasts. His fingers rolled into a ball as a second wave of heat tumbled through him like the roll of heavy surf, rushing the most intense, visceral craving through him, almost knocking him off his feet.
With her baggy trousers that matched her top, she looked like a nymph, a free spirit. A delectable Persephone who’d floated into the department just for him.
She’s not for you at all. Until the locum arrives and your holidays really start, you’re still Dr Jack Armitage, Barragong’s respectable doctor and pillar of society.
He deliberately ignored the words and let his wayward gaze enjoy the way the floating material of her trousers caressed her legs, and then he zeroed in on her feet, feet that demanded nothing more than to be adorned with a delicate silver toe-ring. Instead they were encased in heavy hiking-boots. The juxtaposition startled him. Just like that, the work ethic instilled in him by his parents and his family’s history saw a chance, and with moral efficiency brushed the lust away like a broom. Almost.
Jack reached for another gauze pad to staunch the flow of blood from Lochie’s head while keeping his other hand firmly on Lochie’s leg. He smiled politely at the visitor, and as the doctor-in-charge he said, ‘This area of the hospital is for staff and patients. Please check in at Reception.’
With a sudden purposeful action, she slid her backpack off her shoulders and rested it against the wall before dropping a crushed and battered hat neatly onto the top. She then gave him an expectant smile. ‘Really? The paperwork can wait. You look like you’re struggling and could do with an extra pair of hands right now.’ She crossed to the sink and flicked on the taps.
Struggling? Jack Armitage didn’t struggle. Despite the fact that his eyes seemed fixed on the way her trousers moved across her cute behind, he managed to harness his indignation about the ‘struggling’ quip. ‘I must insist that you leave now, Miss, um…?’
Laughing eyes smiled at him as the unknown stranger snapped on a pair of gloves with the expertise of someone in the know. ‘Norman. Dr Sophie Norman. Sorry I’m late.’
Jack’s mouth fell open; he couldn’t hide his astonishment that this incredibly alluring woman in the free-flowing clothes was his doctor. ‘You’re my missing locum?’
‘Yes. It’s actually been a bit of a saga getting here from Mingora via Mumbai.’ Her well-enunciated words sounded very aristocratic compared with the broad Australian accent. ‘Not in the least bit helped by the moron I dealt with in the agency office. But I’m here now and ready to work.’
Jack grinned at the high-class and totally sexy way she said the word, ‘moron’. ‘I think I know who you mean. I’m Jack.’ Not yet, you’re not. ‘Dr Jack Armitage.’
‘Good to meet you, Jack.’
A husky edge clung to the words as her dancing eyes brushed his entire body with a head-to-toe sweep very similar to the one he’d given her.
His blood pounded south with every caress of her gaze.
Then, like the snapping of a therapist’s fingers, the hypnotic spell was broken and she raised her head and grabbed a bottle of saline. ‘We’ll do the introductions later, shall we?’
But it was a rhetorical question, because she’d already turned and bent down close to Lochie. With a firm voice devoid of all the come-hither huskiness, and sounding very much like a famous English nanny from literature, she said, ‘Now, young man, I’ve just walked past some pretty scary-looking reptiles. Can you tell me the name of those scaly creatures with the blue tongue?’
Lochie’s wail subsided, either out of surprise or fright, and he stared at her for a moment, completely nonplussed. ‘A blue tongue.’
She nodded briskly as she cleaned the wound while Jack applied pressure so they could see the skin edges and estimate the depth. ‘That’s right, they have a blue tongue, but what are they called?’
‘Blue tongues.’
She frowned. ‘It’s all right; if you don’t know the name, we can look it up later.’
Lochie’s bottom lip came out in a mulish line. ‘That’s their name. You don’t know much, do you?’
Kerry gasped. ‘Lochie!’
Sophie stiffened for a brief moment and then gave a strangled laughed. ‘I know how to fix you up, so how about you tell me about reptiles while we make you feel better?’
As she moved to pick up more gauze, Jack caught a glimpse of grey shadows scudding through previously clear eyes before her chin tipped up and an almost reckless gleam pushed the darkness away.
It was sudden, unexpected, and it both jarred and intrigued him.
This woman intrigued him. She looked like a hippy but with Lochie she sounded very much like an uptight, bossy and organising school teacher. The odd combination fascinated him.
It’s actually been a bit of a saga getting here from Mingora…The almost reckless gleam in her eyes suddenly made a lot of sense: she’d just come out of a war-ravaged area into a peaceful place. He imagined the sudden removal of the terrifying pressure that was exerted when your life was in constant danger must be as intoxicating as the finest bead in the best champagne.
And she was intoxicating. From the first time their eyes had locked her gaze had promised sheer, unadulterated fun. She had an aura of wildness about her that called to the part of him he’d locked away five years ago. The part of him that could come out and play now she was Barragong’s doctor and he was just Jack. Except he was never ‘just Jack’ in Barragong. He had to leave town to be himself and after five years of snatched weekends here and there his time had finally arrived for a real break.
It’s a shame you’re leaving—the two of you could have had some fun together. Why not stay a while and see what could happen? The temptation circled him, enticing and appealing, pulling at him to break the cardinal rule he’d lived by since Mary. There was absolutely no doubt that Sophie Norman was undeniably sexy and totally gorgeous, but he didn’t have fun in Barragong. He worked in Barragong. He played elsewhere, safely keeping women out of his Barragong life.
He squared his shoulders, the discipline and self-control that had kept him going for years shooting back into place. Sometimes the timing was just wrong and this was one of those times. Sophie was here to be Barragong’s doctor so he could start his long-service leave, and nothing was stopping him from getting out of town today.
Chapter Two
SOPHIE hadn’t expected to meet the Barragong doctor gasping for breath just as his undisputed masculinity had taken a severe battering by a five-year-old. As she tried not to scratch the patch of stress-induced eczema she could feel had risen on her arm after treating Lochie, the thought that perhaps she wasn’t the only doctor on the planet who found dealing with children difficult soothed like calamine lotion.
She also hadn’t expected Dr Jack Armitage to be a bikie. Not that she had any complaints about that. Not counting one disastrous exception, she’d always been attracted to bad boys. In their uncomplicated world of no promises, she could truly relax and be herself.
And Jack radiated one-hundred-percent, dazzling ‘bad boy’ from the top of his inky-black hair to the jet of his leather trousers; his neat haircut jarred the image slightly, but not enough to bother her one little bit. He was a visual gift from the gods, and after her six months in a living hell she soaked him in while half-listening to his detailed explanation about clinic procedures. Procedures that were all neatly printed and stored in an absurdly organised and colour-co-ordinated folder complete with tabbed dividers. His receptionist was obviously a stationery junkie.
His mellow voice rolled around her like a caress as she followed him on a whirlwind tour. ‘I usually start the day with an early hospital round before heading to the clinic, but