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Suddenly Single Sophie
Leonie Knight








Suddenly

Single Sophie


Leonie Knight






















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u7d744fb9-70ef-596e-a1ee-fa8aa18a275f)

Title Page (#uf111d09a-8771-54a6-998d-5af020b158e6)

About the Author (#ud97d2dcb-74d9-5fb4-90fe-1f8c1ecebeca)

Dedication (#u7351e3b6-212f-540a-8518-702f7439dd34)

Prologue (#u26eb78d4-6333-5337-908b-44ac1d77c0e6)

Chapter One (#uc900e648-e9e3-5cb1-9aad-e8d8a4a26e09)

Chapter Two (#uc8778e61-65ac-5edf-98e8-a9beb27dcd88)

Chapter Three (#u052eff64-cae1-5ede-9740-22e66709e750)

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)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




About the Author


Originally a city girl, LEONIE KNIGHT grew up in Perth, Western Australia. Several years ago, with her husband, two young sons and their Golden Retriever, she moved south to a small rural acreage located midway between dazzling white beaches and the magnificent jarrah forest of the Darling Scarp. Now her boys have grown and left home, and the demands of her day-job have lessened, she finds she has more time to devote to the things she loves—gardening, walking, cycling, reading, and of course writing. She has spent most of her adult life working in first a suburban and then a rural general medical practice—combining that with the inspiration she gets from her real-life hero, it is only natural that the stories she writes are Medical


Romances.

This is Leonie Knight’s debut book!


Dear Reader

Inspiration for the novels I write sometimes emerges from the unlikeliest of places. The idea for the story of Sophie and Will’s bumpy journey along the road to finding love originated from a TV documentary about a rundown, inner-city suburb destined for destruction. It was saved by a courageous and spirited group of people, determined to make better lives for themselves.

To outsiders, the residents of my fictional suburb of Prevely Springs have little hope of ever achieving that elusive better life. Will Brent—an overworked, brooding but devoted GP—tries his best to help, but it takes the addition of a bubbly socialite from the other side of the country, with a mission to make a difference, Dr Sophie Carmichael, to turn his hopes and dreams into reality and release him from his tortured past.

I wanted to show a community working together to overcome serious and sensitive problems as a backdrop to the unlikely romance between my hero and heroine, and their attempt to overcome their own inner demons. I believe the more difficult the journey, the greater the satisfaction at arriving at the final destination.

I hope you enjoy reading my story about Sophie, Will and the people of Prevely Springs as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Leonie


To my unfailingly supportive husband, Colin,

and my amazing writing friends, Anna, Teena,

Lorraine, Susy and Claire.

Thank you for your faith in me.




PROLOGUE


‘YOU’RE better off without him.’

Sophie Carmichael’s body-racking sobs began to subside as her best friend Anna put her arm around her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Sophie reached for a handful of tissues and noisily blew her nose. Venting her distress in a tearful outburst definitely helped ease the rawness she felt. She took a deep breath and managed a wilted smile.

‘I still can’t understand how he could be so cold … and two-faced,’ Sophie said. ‘He didn’t even have the courage to tell me to my face.’

‘It could have been worse. He might have broken up with you with a text message. Vanessa’s boyfriend—’

‘I know, I heard. But they’d only been together for two minutes, not nearly two years.’ Sophie wiped away the last of her tears and felt her fighting spirit begin to return. It made sense now why Jeremy had stopped pleading with her to move in with him. He apparently wanted a live-in lover, not a wife. And he’d found one—who was now pregnant with his child. She’d wondered if the two of them had planned the whole scenario.

Sophie clenched her teeth, not wanting to believe her ex was capable of such blatant and calculated cheating. She wasn’t going to let a two-timing, deceitful rat like her ex-fiancé ruin her life, though.

‘Didn’t Jeremy make it quite clear he didn’t want kids until he’d finished his training and set up in private practice?’

‘That’s right. And muggins me went along with it.’ Sophie slumped back in her seat and sighed. She tried to stand back from her churning emotions and look at the situation objectively. ‘You’re right, you know. I’m glad I found out about Jeremy’s unfaithfulness before we actually tied the knot. I am better off without him.’

The women sat in silent contemplation for a minute or two before Anna finally spoke.

‘What are you going to do now?’

Sophie had asked herself that same question a hundred times over the past weeks since she’d found out about Jeremy’s infidelity by overhearing a conversation at the hospital where he worked. She had naively believed it was purely unfounded gossip. When she’d confronted him, though, he’d not wasted words in telling her the brutal truth. It seemed everyone had known before she had. She’d never felt so humiliated in her life and was grateful the news hadn’t spread to the staff of her father’s general practice where she worked.

At least she’d been able to choose the time and place to tell her parents—but it hadn’t made it any easier. Her father’s attitude had left her firstly stunned and then outraged. Ross Carmichael still thought the sun shone from Jeremy’s nostrils and seemed to believe they’d get back together again. She couldn’t believe he could be so insensitive to her feelings. Her mother had hardly disguised her disappointment. She’d often reminded Sophie of her relentlessly ticking biological clock and didn’t like the idea of the mob of grandchildren she so dearly wanted being put on hold. Of course Sophie still wanted a family but now, at thirty-one, unceremoniously dumped and unexpectedly single, she was in no hurry.

‘I really don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to think about it but one thing I do know for sure.’

‘And what’s that?’ Anna was stroking Sophie’s cat, which had jumped up on her lap, probably sensing the calmer of the two women was Anna.

‘I’m going to steer clear of men for a while.’

Anna smiled. ‘They’re not all rotten, you know.’

‘I didn’t say they were, but—’

‘You need a break. I can understand that. It’s early days.’

Max, Sophie’s Burmese bundle of masculine feline charm, gracefully stretched, began purring loudly and rubbed his chin on Anna’s thigh, as if defending the male of the species.

‘Maybe you need a holiday,’ Anna continued.

‘A permanent holiday.’ Sophie suddenly realised what she really needed was a working holiday; a complete break from her predictable life. She’d always had her father, or Jeremy, or the expectations of the high-flying social set she moved in to make the big life decisions for her. Or at least nudge her in a certain direction. It hadn’t bothered her in the past, but now … She felt manipulated, controlled and wanted a taste of freedom. If she made mistakes, at least they would be her own.

‘I might look at leaving Sydney for a while, maybe head north.’ She paused and felt her heart pumping faster. It was a lightbulb moment and made a great deal of sense. She would only stagnate in her father’s practice and was tired of listening to the woes of the affluent, worried well-to-do. She remembered when, as an enthusiastic new graduate, she’d wanted her work to make a real difference to her patients’ lives. There was little chance of that happening if she stayed where she was. Her mind started to work in overdrive.

‘Or even west. I’ve heard there’s a shortage of GPs over in Perth.’

Anna looked only mildly surprised, as if she’d been expecting it.

‘Well, good for you, Dr Sophie.’ She lifted Max from her lap and dumped the protesting cat on the floor then added, ‘How about we open that bottle of wine I brought?’

‘Great idea. And I’ll see if I can rustle up some comfort food,’ Sophie said with a grin. She felt renewed, ready to take on whatever challenges life presented.

While Anna uncorked the Chardonnay, Sophie loaded generous serves of chocolate cheesecake on plates.

When they sat down again, Anna raised her glass.

‘To your new life,’ she said as they clinked glasses.

‘Without the complication of men,’ Sophie added.




CHAPTER ONE


‘SHE’S here. Come and have a look,’ Caitlyn called from the tea room.

Dr William Brent didn’t share his young receptionist’s excitement at what he presumed was the arrival of the new doctor. It was barely twenty minutes since the last patient had left. Saturday morning clinics were supposed to finish at midday and today he’d particularly wanted to run to schedule. But it was already after two o’clock, the time he’d planned to meet Dr Sophie Carmichael.

She was late. Not an ideal start.

He was a busy man and didn’t have spare time to waste on waiting. He had a house call after the interview and a meeting with a builder scheduled for mid-afternoon.

He dismissed his annoyance in the name of an urgent need for an assistant and hoped Caitlyn was right.

Sophie Carmichael’s phone call, just over a month ago, had come at the right time and he’d invested a considerable amount of energy in getting the well-qualified Sydney doctor to relocate, even if it turned out to be for only a couple of months.

‘Quick, you’ve got to see this, Dr Brent.’ Caitlyn stood in the doorway to his office with a broad grin on her face and Will couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding.

Why was Caitlyn so excited and, worse, why was she grinning?

He followed her down the short corridor to the tea room and peered through the small, grubby window.

‘Oh, my God!’ The words escaped before Will had time to check them and now he understood why his young receptionist was so insistent he have an advanced viewing.

Will glanced at Caitlyn, who was still grinning, but couldn’t stop his eyes returning to the new arrival. His heart dropped. She was driving a nippy little sports car. He didn’t usually trust first impressions but had the gut feeling this stern-faced young woman, whom he could see clearly in the open-topped vehicle, would be as at home in his practice as caviar at a sausage sizzle.

But he was truly desperate.

Working twelve-hour days, being on call weekends and after hours, as well as trying to find time to get his plans for the community centre off the ground was wearing him down to near breaking point. There just weren’t enough hours in the day.

He had to keep an open mind.

‘If that’s the new doc, I hope she’s better at fixing sick people than she is at parking her car,’ Caitlyn said.

Will squinted through the dirty glass, watching the wine-red cabriolet being manoeuvred into a space that was way too small.

‘Ouch.’ He felt the scrape of metal on metal as the front-end passenger side didn’t quite clear the carport post. If she was the new doctor, and Will had no reason to think otherwise, it was definitely not a good start to their working relationship.

But the show wasn’t over.

The woman seemed to be having problems unfolding the roof to secure the vehicle. She huddled over the dash and first the windscreen wipers activated then the hazard lights flashed before the roof finally jerked into place. She abandoned the car and squeezed her petite frame into the gap between her fancy sports car and Will’s elderly, slightly battered station wagon. She was in shadow so Will could no longer see her face, but her body language clearly conveyed frustration and anger. He was fascinated. Mesmerised, even.

‘Look what she’s wearing.’ Caitlyn was obviously enjoying the spectacle but her tip-off was unnecessary. How could anyone not notice the woman’s outfit? It was so out of place for a meeting, no matter how informal, with her new employer. She wouldn’t last five minutes in this neighbourhood decked out in low-slung, skin-tight black jeans with lolly-pink high-heeled sandals and a top that was body-hugging, and exposing more skin than …

‘Whoops. She’s seen us.’ The girl’s attempt to duck away from the window wasn’t quick enough, but at least she’d tried to look discreet. Will suddenly realised his jaw was gaping and he snapped his mouth shut the moment the woman’s blazing eyes met his. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He could see her more clearly now and there was something about the determined thrust of her jaw and the resolute expression on her fine-featured face that captivated him.

It didn’t take her long to compose herself, though. She smiled and waved as she hoisted a large bag over her shoulder and headed towards the back staff entrance.

‘I’ll put the kettle on, then?’ At least Caitlyn was thinking sensibly. He needed a coffee.

‘Good idea. I’ll go and meet her.’

He took a couple of deep breaths, ran his fingers through his too-long hair and smiled as he opened the back door.

Sophie Carmichael had finally arrived at the Prevely Springs Medical Clinic. She was tired, frustrated and wondering if she’d made a huge mistake. Not sleeping the previous night, coupled with an inconvenient run of bad luck, hadn’t helped. She felt like getting on the first flight back to Sydney.

The move to Western Australia was supposed to be about taking control of her life but obstacles had appeared at every turn. She should have arrived in Perth in plenty of time to make it to the hotel she’d booked for the night. She’d planned to at least get a few hours’ sleep and then shower and change before her interview.

But the best-laid plans …

Firstly her plane had been delayed and she’d been forced to sit in the airport lounge for most of the night. Then, on her arrival in Perth, she’d discovered her luggage had been lost. Now she was fifteen minutes late for her meeting with her future employer because the airport taxi driver had taken her to the wrong rail depot to pick up her car … the beautiful, brand-new sports car she’d bought only a week ago as a symbol of her new-found freedom. Which now had an ugly gouge down one side due to a momentary lapse of concentration.

She tried to focus on the positives.

She’d never been a quitter.

Leaving home hadn’t been a mistake.

She wasn’t running away from her problems, just taking a break to regroup.

Her objective while in Perth was to work, and learn, and prove to herself she wasn’t afraid of leaping out of her comfort zone into the wild unknown.

She also planned to show her toad of a fiancé that she was quite capable of fulfilment … and independence … and happiness … without him.

She scowled.

Jeremy … her fiancé … Not any more.

It hadn’t taken as much courage as she’d thought to relocate to the other side of the country, even if it was only for a couple of months. The last thing she needed was a holiday with endless empty time on her hands—work was definitely the answer, and work on the other side of the country was perfect. She needed time out without having to deal with the tattered remnants of her life; without the distraction of the opposite sex; without having to get approval for everything she did from her father or Jeremy.

‘Things can’t possibly get any worse,’ she muttered as she locked the car. She glanced at the single visible window and caught a glimpse of two curious faces not quite pressed against the glass. One was a teenage girl and the other …

She instantly forgot her troubles.

The dark-haired man was half smiling, and even through the grubby glass she could see he was … absolutely gorgeous.

He waved and then ducked away from the window as if he’d been caught in the act of being nosy.

Then he reappeared.

When she saw him standing in the doorway, all mussed-up hair, baggy clothes and brooding dark, black-brown eyes, she knew she’d made the right decision in leaving Sydney.

If this man was Dr Brent, it would be no hardship to work with him but she’d have to be careful. He was too damned attractive for his own good and she’d bet her last dollar he had no idea he had all the attributes to turn women’s heads.

Slinging her bag on her shoulder, she strode towards the ramp leading up to the back entrance. She still couldn’t rationalise the preconceived image she’d conjured up of Dr Brent, with the man standing in the doorway.

On the phone he’d come across as kind, conservative, passionate about his job and desperate for a second GP to share his increasing patient load. He’d also sounded … weary.

She’d thought he’d be middle-aged and suspected he might be looking for someone young and fresh to share the patient load at the practice, if the wording in his ad in the widely read Australian General Practice magazine was anything to go by. He’d really wanted someone who was prepared to commit long term, with a view to partnership.

But it appeared that type of candidate was thin on the ground and she definitely wasn’t that person either. She had no illusions that her escape from her failed relationship and the gossip of Sydney’s heartless, egocentric socialites was anything but temporary. She just needed time to heal.

Sophie was totally realistic about her future. She had solid reasons to return to the city she loved. All her friends were in Sydney; she owned a beachside apartment at Collaroy she didn’t want to give up; and had adopted a feisty feline named Max that she couldn’t leave in her friend Anna’s care for ever. She planned to go home as soon as the fallout from her broken relationship settled, and she’d made sure Dr Brent knew she wasn’t planning on staying permanently.

And the reality of this man standing in the doorway had just made her decision to have a break much easier.

Could this seriously good-looking hunk possibly be her new boss?

She was about to find out.

For a moment Will Brent was spellbound by the woman’s penetrating china-blue eyes, fascinated by the tilt of her cute, lightly freckled nose, captivated by her hesitant smile.

‘I’m Will Brent and I assume you’re Dr Carmichael. Can I take your bag?’ he asked as he extended his hand in greeting.

She offered hers and it felt cool, soft and damp. Was she nervous?

‘Yes. Please, call me Sophie, and, no, thanks. I’ll be fine.’

‘Come in,’ he said in what he hoped was a welcoming tone.

She repositioned the bag on her shoulder as she stepped from the short ramp into the building. He suspected she could be just what the practice needed. So if her first impression of Prevely Springs Medical Clinic was to go as smoothly as he’d planned, he’d have to remain totally objective, professional … look beyond the attractively packaged woman standing on his threshold.

Attractive didn’t mean dependable. It meant the pain of betrayal; it meant shallow; it meant priorities very different from his. What twisted lapse of judgement had let him fall in love all those years ago?

Will did a quick reality check.

He had no right to prejudge or compare.

Sophie Carmichael was simply a colleague, who happened to be beautiful.

And he mustn’t think of her in any other way.

There was no way he could burden any woman with his problems. He still felt the hurt and disappointment of his past and the weight of the emotional debt he was struggling to pay. He had chosen to lead a solitary life in the rough inner-city suburb he’d grown up in. And he’d made a promise, nearly twenty years ago, to stay and in some way give back to this community.

Love, marriage, children … The fantasy just didn’t fit with the dark reality of his life.

He’d caused the two people he’d loved most in the world so much anguish. There wasn’t a day went by when his heart didn’t fill with regret for those angry, irresponsible teenage years that had shaped his future. His devotion to his practice and the salt-of-the-earth people in the Springs was the only way he knew to repay his grandparents, and he often lamented that they weren’t alive to witness his achievements.

He’d only recently admitted, though, that he needed help to keep going. The long hours he worked, being on call weekends and after hours, was wearing him down to near breaking point. He had high hopes for the woman standing in front of him.

Releasing Sophie’s fingers from his grip, he did a lightning rethink of where he could conduct the interview but came to the conclusion every room in the building was in a similar state of disarray to his own.

Better the mess you know …

Usually it wouldn’t bother him but he felt an unsettling compulsion to make a good impression and wished he’d chosen something more stylish to wear than his crumpled khaki chinos and faded short-sleeved checked shirt. But she’d find out soon enough that tidiness and fashion weren’t high on his priority list.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to take his mind off Sophie Carmichael’s creamy smooth shoulders and the soft curve of her neck. Somehow the inappropriateness of her attire didn’t seem so important any more.

‘We’ll go down to my consulting room. It’s the second door on the right,’ Will said in a voice he hardly recognised.

She followed him down to his room and he stepped back to let her in first. Glancing around the cluttered office, he wondered if the hint of a frown on her face was due to disapproval. She was probably used to working in much more luxurious surroundings and he hoped she wouldn’t be put off.

‘Please, sit down.’

She sat in one of the patient chairs, legs crossed, hands resting in her lap, and he wondered what she was thinking. He’d done his best to prepare her.

The couple of times he’d talked to her on the phone he’d been totally honest with her, revealing Prevely Springs was an underprivileged area. But he’d told her the work was challenging and potentially rewarding. To her credit, she’d still seemed keen. Her agreement to commit to even a few weeks with him had rekindled a light at the end of what had recently become a very long, dark tunnel.

He didn’t want her to change her mind.

‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Your CV was impressive, your references excellent.’ He sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

Her credentials were almost too good to be true. But the phone conversation he’d had with her two days ago had allayed his concerns that the inevitable culture shock would be an obstacle for her.

She cleared her throat and Will wondered if the colour in her previously pale cheeks was a reaction to his praise.

‘I … er …’ She looked away as if composing her thoughts. Was she having second thoughts?

He knew she had a privileged background. She’d been educated at one of the most expensive ladies’ colleges and graduated from medical school with top marks. He suspected her life choices had been easy and uncomplicated. He had wondered at her motivation in wanting to work in a practice so different to what she was used to.

She came from a medical family. Her father was a well-known and highly regarded GP in Sydney and Sophie had worked in his practice for the past two years. It had surprised Will that Dr Ross Carmichael had telephoned him a week ago and, in a roundabout way, had seemed to be checking his credentials. Will, in fact, had been annoyed at some of his questions and the cross-examination had struck him as being a little beyond normal protective paternal behaviour. Sophie seemed like someone who could look after herself quite capably.

He dragged his mind back to the task in hand. Sophie looked uncomfortable.

‘I, um, owe you an apology.’

Now, that was something he hadn’t expected.

A lock of Sophie’s thick red-brown hair escaped from the clasp holding it in place, and as she tucked it behind her ear Will noticed an almost imperceptible tremor in her fingers

‘An apology?’

She folded her arms across her chest.

‘You must be wondering why I’m dressed like this.’

Yes, of course he was, but he didn’t want to draw attention to her relaxed dress code. Well, not until he’d confirmed her commitment.

‘I take it you’re planning to wear something a little more conservative …’ less provocative was another description that came to mind ‘… to work.’

Rosy colour swept into her neck and flooded her face.

‘I’m sorry,’ Will said, although he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to make her blush.

She took a deep breath.

‘My plane was delayed so I didn’t get here until this morning. Then it took another hour and a half for the airline to verify that my luggage had been mislaid. And the taxi driver who drove me to Wellesley to collect my car hardly spoke a word of English. So even if I’d had time to change—’

He’d heard enough, and doubted she could fabricate such an elaborate combination of misadventures. He understood why she had faint dark shadows under her eyes. She most likely needed rest rather than a grilling from him.

‘Ah … I see. You’ve not had the best introduction to the west. You must be exhausted.’ He thought of a dozen questions he wanted to ask but they would just have to wait. After all, he’d told her on the phone the job was hers and all he needed to do was discuss her duties, finalise her hours and sort out the paperwork.

‘The interview is a formality, really. It’s basically so we can introduce ourselves. You can ask me any questions about the work, the practice, anything you’d like to know, before you start next week.’

She leaned towards him, interlocked her fingers and placed her hands on his desk. The pose struck him as being assertive without being arrogant. Her anxiety seemed to have vanished.

Maybe she would be okay dealing with some of the rougher elements that were inevitably part of his practice.

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she said. ‘I haven’t got any questions.’

‘Great.’ The interview was going well but there was one more thing he had to discuss and he didn’t want to put pressure on her. ‘We haven’t talked about how long you’re prepared to work here. I realise you’re not planning on staying long term, but even a few weeks will be a great help to me.’ He thought of the long-lost luxury of spare time. ‘Does a period of six to eight weeks sound agreeable?’ That would let him at least get the ball rolling with a time-consuming task he wasn’t looking forward to—organising fundraising for the community centre. ‘With the option of staying longer, of course.’ He sent her what he hoped was a charismatic smile.

‘That would suit me fine,’ she said with a look that suggested relief.

At that moment Caitlyn appeared, cheerful as ever, with two steaming cups and a plate of biscuits.

‘Thanks, Caitlyn.’

‘That’s okay, Dr Brent.’ The girl cleared a space on Will’s desk by pushing a jumble of referral pads to one side. She set down the cups.

‘No problem. Have a good weekend.’ She paused. ‘Oh, and you told me to remind you about the home visit to Mrs Farris.’

‘Thanks, I hadn’t forgotten. See you next week.’

Six weeks was perfect, Sophie thought as she reached for one of the mugs filled with coffee she now felt sufficiently relaxed to drink. It was long enough to make her father understand she wasn’t going to run back home after a week or two. She also thought of Jeremy and reminded herself she wanted to get as far away from him and his new girlfriend as possible, at least until the gossip died down.

And then she thought of Will Brent. How easy it was to like and admire him. She suspected he was close to burn-out and hoped she could give him the break he deserved. She felt certain she could learn a lot from him.

‘Would you like a biscuit?’ Will Brent’s voice snapped her out of her reverie, but before she had a chance to reply there was a loud thumping on the front door.

‘Is anyone there?’ A man’s voice boomed loud and urgent. ‘Doc Brent, I need a doctor quick!’

There was no doubt about the genuine distress he conveyed and Will was out of his seat in an instant. He grabbed a large bunch of keys from a desk drawer, glanced briefly at Sophie with an expression that invited her to follow and headed towards the front of the building.

Through the frosted glass panels of the door Sophie could make out the dark shape of a man who appeared to be carrying a child.

Will opened the door and a stocky man wearing full football kit, including boots, stumbled in. A boy of about four or five, dressed in an almost identical outfit, lay limp and wheezing in his arms.

‘Thank God you’re still here.’

The child opened his eyes but barely had the energy to whimper as Will took him gently from the man Sophie assumed was his father.

‘How long’s he been like this, Steve?’ Will voiced his first question with just the right mix of authority and empathy. He obviously knew the pair and was leading them past the reception desk into a well-equipped treatment room. He laid the child down, adjusted the examination couch so the boy was sitting and placed an oximeter on his finger.

‘No more than fifteen minutes. Jake was with me mates at the oval, watching the game, and they called me off the field.’ The man pulled down his son’s sock to reveal an angry red swelling just above his ankle. Sophie could see similar, smaller lesions on his arms.

‘Bee sting,’ he added, as if that explained everything. ‘We know he’s allergic, but the worst he’s had in the past has been a rash.’ He took a sharp intake of breath. ‘He’s never been this bad. It came on real quick. He can hardly breathe. We were going to the hospital but I saw your car—’

Steve was close to tears and began hyperventilating.

The last thing they needed in a situation where the boy should command Will’s full attention was to have to deal with the father’s panic attack as well.

Sophie felt her own tension climbing. The child was barely conscious and his breathing was becoming more laboured as each second passed. Will appeared remarkably calm.

‘Sit down, Steve,’ Will said coolly but firmly. ‘Jake’s going to be fine but I need to check him over.’ He glanced in Sophie’s direction. ‘Can you organise a paediatric mask with high-flow oxygen?’ He pointed to an emergency trolley next to an oxygen cylinder. Everything—medications, procedure packs, resuscitation equipment—was all labelled clearly and easy to find. ‘And draw up …’ He paused for a moment, calculating the crucial dose of lifesaving medication based on the boy’s estimated weight. ‘Point two of adrenaline for intramuscular injection.’

‘Do you want nebulised adrenaline as well?’ Sophie asked, trying to think ahead. She’d rarely treated emergencies in her father’s practice but remembered the protocol from her hospital work. ‘And an IV set?’ she added as she positioned the mask on Jake’s pale little face.

Will nodded. He worked incredibly quickly but gave the impression he was taking one quiet step at a time. Sophie drew up the medication, double-checked the dose and handed it to Will, who jabbed the needle into the boy’s upper thigh so rapidly he hardly had time to respond. She could feel the tension decreasing in the room at about the same rate as the dusky grey colour in Jake’s swollen lips began to turn the lightest shade of pink.

Will looked at the small device that measured oxygen levels in the blood. ‘Ninety-four per cent,’ he said as he placed a stethoscope on the little boy’s chest and then checked his airway. The wheezing eased a little, but the movement of the muscles in Jake’s abdomen and neck suggested he still had to work hard to get air in and out. Fortunately the risk of his larynx closing over completely had passed.

Will inserted an IV line while Sophie set up the nebuliser and together they stabilised the five-year-old to the point where Will had time to talk to Steve. He pulled up a chair opposite him.

‘Jake’s over the worst, Steve, but he’s not out of the woods yet. He needs monitoring in hospital and I’m going to call an ambulance. He also needs blood tests and will probably go home with an EpiPen, possibly an asthma puffer as well. Do you know what an EpiPen is?’

‘Yeah, I think you told us about it the first time Jake was stung. It’s the injection you keep with you all the time, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Do you want me to ring the ambulance?’ Sophie offered.

‘Thanks, the local number is on the wall above the phone,’ Will said with a grateful smile. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

A short time later, while the adults sat drinking coffee, crisis over, waiting for the ambulance, Jake slowly and steadily improved. Sophie marvelled at how composed Will was as he chatted to Steve.

‘Daddy,’ Jake said suddenly in a clear, loud voice as he pulled off the mask and frowned. All eyes turned towards him.

‘What’s the matter?’ Steve said, a look of panic returning to his face.

‘That goal you kicked … just before three-quarter time.’

The adults exchanged glances and Steve smiled for the first time since he’d arrived.

‘Yeah, what about it?’

‘It was awesome.’

Steve grinned with obvious pride and Will chuckled.

‘You think so?’

Jake took a couple of rapid breaths as he raised his hand for a high five with his father. ‘The best.’

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and after it had left with its two passengers, Will turned to Sophie.

‘That was an impromptu example of general practice in Prevely Springs. Think you can handle it?’

Coping with the work wasn’t a problem for Sophie. She was looking forward to the challenge. The predicament she faced was how she was going uphold her promise, the vow she’d confidently uttered when she and her best friend had made a toast to her new life … without the complication of men.

She had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy.

‘I’ll give it my best shot,’ she said.




CHAPTER TWO


AFTER the ambulance left, Sophie experienced a satisfaction she hadn’t felt since working in the emergency department as a raw, idealistic intern. She had no doubt in her mind that Will had, calmly, without fuss or wanting any praise, saved young Jake’s life.

And she had been part of it.

‘Do you deal with many emergencies?’ she asked as she brought two mugs of fresh coffee into the treatment room where Will was tidying up.

He took one of the mugs and smiled.

‘About one or two a week.’

‘Across the full spectrum?’

Sophie perched herself on the examination couch and Will sat in the seat recently vacated by Jake’s father.

‘Pretty well. There’s probably more than the norm of physical violence, drug overdoses, that kind of thing. The clinic operates a little like a country outpost, without the problem of distance and isolation. I do my best to stabilise patients who need hospital care before sending them on.’

Sophie thought of how different it was from her father’s practice.

‘Where I worked in Sydney, the patients are more likely to ring the ambulance first in life-threatening situations … To save time.’

Will’s dark eyes clouded and he looked past Sophie into the distance before he refocused.

‘A lot of my patients have had bad experiences with hospitals, and doctors who don’t know them. And I don’t blame the hospital staff making judgements on appearances. We all do it …’

The appraisal took only a second or two but Sophie felt Will’s gaze flick from her high-heel-clad feet to the top of her tousled head, taking in everything in between. She suddenly became self-conscious about her appearance and the impression she’d made when he’d first seen her.

Before Sophie could think of a reply, Will had downed the last of his coffee and stood, stuffing his stethoscope into his pocket. He looked impatient to leave.

‘I’ll take you round to the flat. It’s nothing flash but is clean, has the basics and is about twenty minutes’ drive from here.’

Will’s sudden change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by Sophie, and she guessed her boss was just as tired as she was.

‘Not in Prevely Springs?’ She’d assumed she’d be staying closer to Will’s clinic.

‘No, Sabiston’s the name of the suburb. I thought …’ He hesitated.

‘Yes? You thought?’

‘It’s a more … upmarket suburb than the Springs.’

More like what she was used to …

He smiled, a fleeting indication that he genuinely cared about her welfare, and it occurred to her how easily she could fall for this gentle, softly spoken, work-weary man. He was everything her cocky, self-absorbed ex wasn’t.

No! Get a grip of yourself.

She hardly knew the man and it was way too soon. The painful sting of shame was still fresh in her memory and she didn’t want to risk going through the indignity again.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll manage,’ Sophie said.

‘I hope so.’ He took his keys from his pocket. ‘There’s just one thing more, before we go to the flat.’

‘Yes?’

‘I need to make a quick house call. A woman with pancreatic cancer. I’m sure it won’t take long. She only lives around the corner.’

Another surprise. Will did house calls … after hours … on top of what she calculated to be more than a sixty-hour working week.

‘You’ll like Bella Farris,’ he added.

‘And … well … the sooner I start, the harder it will be to chicken out.’

Sophie was determined to prove to her new employer she was prepared to tackle working in Prevely Springs head on.

Will knocked on the door of the tidiest townhouse in a shabby block of six and went straight inside without waiting for an answer. Sophie followed close behind, scanning the interior as she entered. The front door opened directly into a cramped living-dining area with a kitchen at the back. A boy of about thirteen or fourteen sat in front of a television screen connected to a games machine. He was overweight, pale, and his eyes didn’t leave the screen. A couple of empty fast-food containers lay abandoned on the floor beside him.

‘Hi, Brad. Is your mum upstairs in the bedroom?’ Will’s tone was cheerful and undemanding.

‘Yeah.’

‘How is she?’

‘Same.’ The boy’s gaze left the screen, flicked to Will, hovered on Sophie for a second and then returned to the noisy, animated action on the screen. ‘Aw, hell!’ the boy added when some bloody tragedy terminated another of his virtual lives.

‘Dr Carmichael and I will go up and see her, then.’

‘Mmm.’

Sophie followed Will up the narrow concrete stairs, vestiges of mud-brown fibres the only indication they had once been carpeted.

‘Bella, it’s Will,’ he called as he reached the dimly lit passage at the top of the stairs.

‘In the bedroom.’ The thin voice came from the only upstairs room with the door open. ‘Come through.’

Sophie followed Will into a sparsely furnished room with a single small window overlooking a weedy back yard.

This family was struggling in more ways than one, Sophie thought as she smiled and nodded, acknowledging the woman propped up in a narrow bed near the window. Her spindle-like arms protruded from the bed cover and rested on her swollen abdomen. Her sighing breaths came irregularly.

‘You’ve finally brought your girlfriend to meet me, have you, Dr Brent? About time too.’ The woman smiled and a hint of colour advanced then rapidly retreated from Will’s cheeks. She looked at Sophie and took a couple of deep breaths. Even talking appeared to be an effort for her. ‘I told Will I wasn’t going to leave this earth until he found a woman to replace me. He needs looking after.’

‘Enough of your cheek, Bella.’ Will put his medical bag down on the small table in a corner and sat on the end of her bed. ‘This isn’t my girlfriend. And you know that threat isn’t going to work because you’re not ready yet. Remember our little chat last week?’

He glanced over at Sophie, who was beginning to feel she was intruding in the relationship between these two people who were as close as a doctor and patient could be. Bella smiled with her eyes but her mouth remained in a grim line, suggesting she was in more pain than she let on.

‘Who is she, then?’

‘Dr Sophie Carmichael. She arrived this morning from Sydney to join the practice for a few weeks. Do you mind her sitting in?’

A look of disbelief flashed across Bella’s face, as if the last thing she’d expected was for Sophie to be a doctor.

‘Well, good for you, Sophie Carmichael.’ She turned her head slightly to address Will. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Two heads are better than one.’ She made a move to reposition herself on the pile of pillows behind her head, then grimaced and seemed to change her mind. ‘You make sure you look after her and she might even stay more than a few weeks.’ She turned to Sophie. ‘Once you get to know him, he’s not as bad as—’

‘Enough, Bella. This isn’t a social visit.’

Bella fixed her gaze back on Will and elevated an eyebrow. ‘Of course not.’

‘So what’s been happening? How can I help?’

‘Shelley insisted on calling you just to check. She thinks it’s a blockage. I’ve not had a bowel movement for four days and I’ve got a new pain.’ She pointed in the vague direction of her navel. ‘And the nausea’s a bit worse.’

Will got up and retrieved a file from the table where he’d left his bag and then returned to Bella’s bedside. He looked across at Sophie. ‘Shelley’s one of the palliative care nurses.’ He turned a couple of pages of the file Sophie assumed contained the nurse’s notes. ‘Your morphine dose has gone up in the last few days.’

‘I vomited a couple of doses of the liquid yesterday and had to increase my night-time tablet.’

‘What are you eating?’

‘Not much.’

‘How about fluids?’ Will didn’t labour the point.

‘I’m keeping down a bit of water.’

Sophie admired Bella’s uncomplaining courage, and as she watched Will examine his patient with large, gentle hands she felt admiration for him too.

‘Well, what’s the verdict?’ Bella said when he’d finally finished. ‘No beating around the bush.’

‘I’m fairly sure the tumour is pressing on part of your intestine, causing a partial blockage.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means your food and drinks are passing through very slowly. It’s probably why your pain and nausea are worse.’

‘Oh.’

Sophie could see the stoic acceptance on Bella’s face. She seemed to sense she didn’t have long to live and trusted Will to do what he felt was best to make her last few weeks comfortable.

‘I’ll contact Shelley and ask her to organise for you to have your morphine by injection.’ He went on to explain the device that would deliver a steady dose of the analgesic via a needle inserted into the fatty layer under the skin and a gadget called a syringe driver. It would overcome her problem of vomiting oral medication. ‘One of the nurses reloads the medication daily. We can also mix in other drugs if needed, like an anti-emetic for nausea.’

Bella looked exhausted. ‘Shelley said she’d come back this afternoon after you’d been.’

‘Good. She can set up the pump. I’ll also ask her to collect some dexamethasone from the pharmacy. If there’s any swelling due to inflammation in the intestine, it should reduce it and might ease the blockage. It should help with the nausea too.’

‘Okay. Best you two get on with enjoying the rest of your weekend.’ Bella seemed to muster a last ounce of energy to wink and then she closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Go on, then.’

Will and Sophie exchanged glances.

‘I’ll call in again Monday, Bella.’

The patient was breathing slowly. She appeared to be asleep, so the two doctors quietly left the room. Will made a quick phone call to Shelley before they went downstairs.

‘Bye, Brad,’ Sophie called as they let themselves out the front door.

The boy acknowledged their departure with a grunt and continued his game.

‘How is Brad coping with his mother’s illness?’ Sophie asked as she buckled her seat belt in the passenger seat of Will’s roomy old car.

‘I don’t think he is.’ Will sighed and started the engine. ‘I’ve tried to talk to him but he seems to have shut everyone out—including his mother. Bella worried about him at the beginning of her illness—she was diagnosed with cancer a week after Brad’s fourteenth birthday—but she doesn’t talk about him now. I think it upsets her that she can’t give him the support she wishes she could. She told me a while back she’d run out of emotional energy.’

A painful mix of sadness and helplessness churned in Sophie’s gut. The combination of poverty, illness and social isolation had delivered a cruel blow to this family. It wasn’t fair.

‘Isn’t there anything more that can be done for Bella?’

‘What do you mean?’ Will frowned.

‘She needs twenty-four-hour care … It’s not fair on her son. There must be somewhere like a hospice … In Sydney—’

Will’s grimace deepened.

‘We’re not in Sydney.’

Her boss seemed to want to wind up the conversation, but Sophie was determined to have her say.

‘Isn’t there residential care for the terminally ill here?’

Will began to back out into the street but braked at the kerb as a car sped past, the young driver going way too fast. He put the gearstick in neutral, wrenched the handbrake on and took a deep sighing breath.

‘I wish there was … for patients like Bella.’ Will’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘Do you think I don’t know that Bella, and hundreds of people like her, deserve pampering and dignity in their last days? Or at least to have the choice of where and how they die. Particularly those who have little in the way of family support.’ He paused. ‘But who pays?’

Sophie looked away and began fiddling with her watch band.

‘The government?’ she suggested quietly.

Point made. Sophie felt foolish, naive and totally put in her place.

The hospice she was familiar with was a private facility attached to one of the major private hospitals, paid for by wealthy patients and their health insurance funds.

Will put the car in gear, released the handbrake and looked in the rear-view mirror but he didn’t start reversing. He hadn’t finished.

‘The only government-funded hospice in this city is always full and is basically a converted wing of an old, now-defunct psychiatric hospital. And palliative care seems to be way down the list of priorities for Heath Department funding. I honestly think Bella is better off staying at home. At least for now.’

Will eased the car onto the road.

‘She has access to twenty-four-hour advice, home visits through the palliative care service, and both she and Brad have chosen the home-care option.’

Will accelerated.

Sophie understood his frustration. She had a lot to learn—not only about working in Prevely Springs but about how much of himself he gave to his patients. She glanced at her companion. He had dark rings under his weary eyes and his tense grip on the steering-wheel indicated he wasn’t as relaxed as his tone suggested.

What drove him to work so hard? As an experienced GP, surely he could choose a less demanding job. No one was indispensable.

But looking at Will … He seemed attached to his work and his patients by steadfastly unyielding Superglue.

Maybe she could be the one to ease his burden, to help him discover that there was a life away from work, to bring on that gorgeous smile she’d seen light up his face at least once that afternoon.

Purely as a friend, of course.

As if sensing Sophie was watching him, Will glanced at her as he slowed, approaching a corner.

‘What’s up?’ he said, crinkling his brow in a frown.

Nothing that your amazing smile won’t fix.

‘I’m concerned about Brad.’ Which she had been before she’d become distracted by the enigmatic man sitting next to her. She continued. ‘What sort of life does he lead? What’s in store for him in the future?’ She paused to take a breath, aware she had Will’s full attention. ‘How can a fourteen-year-old shoulder the responsibility of being the primary carer for his mother? It should be the other way around.’

Will accelerated around the corner and Sophie recognised the street where the clinic was located. ‘All valid concerns.’ He sighed as if the weight of the whole world’s problems rested on his shoulders. ‘He seems to have shut the real world out and replaced it with a virtual one, I’m afraid. I’m at a loss as to how to help him.’

‘Would it be okay with you if I tried to talk to Brad?’ Sophie knew it was an impulsive offer, and any support she gave would be a drop in the ocean compared to the Farrises’ hardship, but the boy seemed so isolated and withdrawn. She wanted to do something positive for Brad and Bella.

‘You’d have nothing to lose because I’ve got little to offer him at the moment.’ Will looked almost as weary as Bella. ‘Maybe twelve or eighteen months down the track …’

His voice trailed off, as if he’d started a conversation he didn’t want to finish, but Sophie was interested.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘I’m not in a hurry.’

He rewarded her with another of those charismatic smiles, apparently surprised she was interested.

‘I’m in the process of trying to get a youth-focused community centre up and running.’ Will parked on the road, a block away from the clinic. ‘See, over there?’

Sophie looked in the direction he was pointing. On the far side of a sports field a building of about the same vintage as the clinic stood neglected at the end of a weedy driveway. Several windows were broken and the parts of a low front wall that weren’t hidden by metre-high weeds were covered in graffiti. It had a chain-link fence around it, displaying a ‘DANGER KEEP OUT’ sign.

‘Looks like it’s ready for demolition.’

Will’s scowl suggested he didn’t agree.

‘That’s exactly what the council wants, but they haven’t got the resources to replace it. Since they closed the place down about a year ago they took away the one place local kids, like Brad and his mates, could hang out without getting bored and up to mischief. But if it’s up to bureaucracy, it’s unlikely to happen.’

Will tapped his fingers on the steering-wheel and for the briefest moment he looked desolate. Why was finding the fate of a rundown old building so painful?

‘So what’s going to happen to it?’

‘I’m trying to save it.’

‘How?’ Will was a man who seemed to have an insatiable need to take on projects that most people would discard into the too-hard basket. Surely he had enough to do, looking after the health needs of Prevely Springs, without taking on their social problems.

Will revved the engine and pulled out onto the road.

‘The cost of renovating and refurbishing is much less than a new build, especially if the skills of local people could be utilised. I’ve submitted a plan to the council and …’ His sigh suggested he wasn’t overjoyed with their response. He focused his attention on traffic as he indicated to turn into the clinic.

‘And …?’

He parked and turned off the engine.

‘To cut a long story short, they wanted detailed plans and costing to present to the building committee and if they approve it goes to a general meeting. But—’

‘Go on.’

‘The wheels of local government turn slowly. It’s unbelievably frustrating. Three months down the track, I’m still waiting for approval. But what’s turning out to be a bigger problem is that the planning department tells me I’m going to have to show the community can raise funds for half the cost of renovating a very old building that the council think is only fit for demolition.’

‘Before they give approval?’

‘That’s right.’ The smile was gone and Will looked despondent.

‘So it’s not going to be a help for Brad and kids like him any time soon.’

‘No.’

Will reached into the back to get Sophie’s bag, a signal that the conversation was over. But Sophie wasn’t about to be put off.

‘How much?’

Will could no longer disguise his disillusionment.

‘An impossible amount.’

‘Nothing’s impossible.’ Sophie knew about fundraising for the sort of amounts that would be impossible if you depended on cake stalls and bring-and-buy sales. For some of her mother’s friends, raising large amounts of money for charity was a very acceptable occupation.

‘How much?’

‘Two hundred thousand dollars.’

‘Oh.’

‘An awful lot of money.’

‘Yes, I can understand the problem.’

But not impossible.

Sophie didn’t want to labour the point when she had nothing tangible to offer. In Sydney in the same situation all she’d have to do would be to ask her parents to help. Her father would pull strings and know all the right people to ask for financial backing. And her mother revelled in organising high-profile events for charity. It helped that it was fashionable to donate to philanthropic worthy causes in certain circles.

But Prevely Springs was nothing like the eastern suburbs of Sydney. She doubted the community would even be considered worthy, let alone high profile enough to get the desired publicity that usually went with large donations.

Someone she hoped she could help, though, was Brad.

‘Can I go with you on your next visit to Bella Farris and I’ll try to break the ice with her son.’ At least she could attempt to break down some barriers with the withdrawn teenager.

‘Sounds great,’ he said, and the expression on his face changed to one of appreciation. Sophie felt a real buzz in response to her boss’s approval. ‘No harm in trying, but don’t expect too much. You might end up disappointed.’

Then Will promptly changed the subject, ending their conversation about Bella and her son and the future of the derelict building on the next block.

‘You must be keen to see the flat.’

At the thought of a comfortable bed, Sophie felt sudden overwhelming tiredness.

‘I guess I am.’

‘It’s only a short drive to Sabiston. You can follow me.’

‘Okay.’

Sophie glanced across at Will, who was concentrating on changing stations on his car radio. His face was blank. What was going on in his head? What impression had her unconventional intrusion into his life made? Their lives were so different. He appeared to be a very private person, not bound to convention or what people expected of him.

She could live with that.

Then she thought of Bella and her introverted son and realised how small her problems were in the grand scheme of things. She felt humbled and even more determined to make a go of it.




CHAPTER THREE


SOPHIE followed in her own car as Will headed west towards the coast. The scenery transformed as soon as they crossed the railway line. Grey-slabbed roadside pavements and graffiti’d walls of grubby corner shops made way for expansive, grassed road verges, quiet streets lined with jacaranda trees and suburbs dotted with slick shopping malls.

Sophie hit the brake pedal as Will indicated to turn into the narrow driveway of a two-storey block of about a dozen art deco flats clustered around a neatly kept garden and a small brick-paved car park. The neighbourhood reeked of old money and good taste.

The surrounding residences were large and palatial without being ostentatious. The neighbouring property was a prime example—a rambling old house with an immaculately kept grassed tennis court and a garage nearly as big as Sophie’s old flat back home. It reminded her of her parents’ house in Manly.

She eased the car into the last remaining resident’s space as Will climbed out of his car and walked across to open her door.

‘I just need to collect the keys.’ He gestured in the general direction of the neighbouring house. ‘Do you want to meet your landlord?’

‘Okay.’

‘He’s a colleague of mine and we went through medical school together. Andrew Fletcher. He’s one of the top cardiologists around town.’

‘He must be doing well for himself,’ she said.

‘Yeah, I guess so.’

Sophie deduced they weren’t great friends. She couldn’t be sure but she thought there was a hint of bitterness in Will’s voice, though he didn’t seem the type to be jealous of those better off than him. They walked silently up the long drive to the front door. Sophie noticed the camera above them as Will rang the bell. A gravelly voice grated through the intercom. There was the sound of several other people talking and laughing in the background.

‘Will, I was expecting you earlier. We’re round the back by the pool. Let yourself in the side gate and come and join the party.’ The camera swivelled like a giant reptilian eye. ‘And great to see you’ve brought such a gorgeous-looking friend.’

‘Party?’ Sophie was confused.

‘I knew nothing about it. I just told him I’d call in to get the keys some time this afternoon.’

Will opened one side of a pair of heavy wooden gates and then he politely followed her through to the party where they were greeted by a man Sophie assumed to be Andrew Fletcher.

‘So you must be my new neighbour? How delightful to meet you.’ The bare-chested man still dripping from the pool briefly glanced at Will before holding out his hand to Sophie. His grip was a little too firm and he held her hand a little too long. ‘I’m Andrew Fletcher. Sorry—I didn’t catch your name.’

He had the lean, muscular build, dazzling blue eyes and classically honed features of a Hollywood movie star. Looks designed to catch any woman’s eye—and he knew it.

He was eerily like Jeremy in both looks and manner, and the similarities made Sophie feel uncomfortable. She glanced across at Will, hoping for some indication from him as to whether to take this larger-than-life show pony seriously. Will’s expression suggested he disapproved of the man’s blatant flirting as much as she did.

‘Sophie. Sophie Carmichael.’ She desperately tried to stop her voice trembling but didn’t quite succeed. To her surprise, Will responded to her uneasiness by moving close, grasping her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

‘Great to meet you. I hope …’ his fleeting look in Will’s direction barely acknowledged his presence ‘… you both will come and at least have a drink with me and my friends.’

Andrew’s manner tripped a switch for Sophie and she felt nauseous. She couldn’t control the sudden churning in her gut as his roving eyes played havoc with her emotions. She wanted to tell him to back off, but she didn’t want to offend Will or his friend.

‘The party’s only just starting to warm up,’ he said with a grin.

She liked the man less with each word he uttered.

This stranger was a double of Jeremy, and she had a sudden compulsion to leave before the nagging nausea in her gut got any worse.

It was then he must have noticed Will’s protective gesture. Obviously not used to being rebuffed, Andrew leaned close, his breath smelling of seafood and alcohol.

Without thinking what she was doing, Sophie shrank away from Andrew and snuggled a little closer to Will. His body felt warm, strong, secure … and sexy. He made her feel safe, cared for, protected … in a way Jeremy never had.

Whoa … What on earth had come over her? He was her boss. They’d known each other barely a couple of hours and were merely acting out a charade of being more than colleagues.

She pulled away and stole a quick look at Will’s face and saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

‘Sophie and I have other plans, haven’t we?’

He was rescuing her. It was as if he had read her mind and had decided to play the knight in shining armour.

‘I … er …’

‘Well, you are a dark horse, aren’t you, mate?’ Andrew winked and slapped Will on the back in a misguided gesture of friendship. He’d added his own interpretation to their show of intimacy.

Will also recoiled from the man, and his grip tightened on her hand in a subtle indication of new-found solidarity. Andrew prattled on, completely unaware of the undercurrents between the two of them.

‘I had no idea.’ Andrew’s attention firmly focused on Will, the look on his face bemused but curious. ‘How long have you two—?’

‘We met years back.’ Sophie interrupted, trying to think quickly and say something that wouldn’t exaggerate the untruths. ‘And Will has kindly offered me a job for a couple of months at a time when I need to get away from Sydney.’ She attempted a look, implying that was all the information she was prepared to give.

‘Ah. I see. Will’s playing the good Samaritan.’

Will’s free arm found its way onto Sophie’s shoulder and his facial expression turned into one of exaggerated concern. She was relieved when he finally spoke.

‘We appreciate the offer. Perhaps another time.’ He hesitated, sending Sophie a look. ‘So if we could just get the keys …?’

‘Okay, I’ll be five minutes,’ Andrew said as he loped off towards the house.

‘What was that all about? For a minute there I thought you were going to faint.’

Will dropped Sophie’s hand and stepped back from her, folding his arms across his chest. He looked as confused as she was. His tanned cheeks were flushed and the understanding in his eyes a moment ago had turned to bewilderment. She could already tell he was a man who liked his world to stay in a predictable orbit, but Sophie was as surprised as Will at her reaction to Andrew Fletcher.

‘It’s difficult to explain,’ she finally said.

‘I’d like you to try.’

‘It’s just …’

‘What?’

How could Sophie explain her reaction? Why she’d needed such a dramatic out from Andrew’s advances? He reminded her so much of Jeremy—charming, handsome, generous, rich, but not capable of fidelity—it was scary. In the end, Jeremy’s unfaithfulness had been their undoing.

When had he fallen out of love with her? The fact that he might never have loved her had left Sophie feeling totally gutted. She’d been used—put on display like an expensive accessory and then discarded when he’d become bored with her and traded in for a new model.

Andrew was cast in the same mould.

But all men weren’t animals … Not if her instinctive reaction to Will’s kindness was anything to go by. It made it even more difficult for her to explain her impulsive behaviour. She figured she had nothing to lose, though, by telling the truth.

‘He reminded me of my ex.’ She couldn’t help the grimace.

‘Oh.’ Will seemed uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed. Too much information? Too personal?

As Will dropped his arms to his sides Andrew walked through the French doors.

Grabbing Will’s hand again, Sophie said in a pleading voice, ‘Do you mind? He’s coming back.’

Will smiled, apparently with renewed understanding and what Sophie thought was a hint of empathy. ‘Just this once, but after we leave here—’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I owe you for this.’

Andrew returned at that moment, handed over the keys to Will and grinned.

‘I’ll let you two go off and get reacquainted, then.’

He waved them off, then added as his eyes did another quick but obvious head-to-toe appraisal of Sophie, ‘Remember I’m next door if you need anything.’

‘I’m sure she won’t,’ Will said brusquely as he put the keys in his pocket.

What on earth was it about Sophie Carmichael that had made him behave in a totally irrational manner? wondered Will.

They walked down the driveway of Andrew Fletcher’s house, Sophie’s hand still enfolded in Will’s protective grip. She offered no resistance and he was reluctant to release her cool, tense fingers. He knew he should. Sophie was probably thinking he was taking advantage of her vulnerability.

But it felt so natural, comfortable … and so sensual.

Oh, God.

What had happened to his well-ordered life?

Will had totally lost his bearings. His day had started out simply enough. Not surprisingly, he’d been tired. It had been a busy week and ‘tired’ seemed to be his default setting these days. The usual Saturday morning at the clinic, demanding work, but nothing he couldn’t handle, had been predictable.

It had been after morning surgery, when Sophie Carmichael had crunched, strode and then nudged herself into his life that his world had tilted on its axis.

In the space of a few short hours she’d roused the full spectrum of his emotions. He’d tumbled through frustration, amusement, impatience, confusion and … desire.

Desire? He’d almost forgotten it existed.

‘That went well,’ Sophie said as they reached the end of Andrew’s drive.

‘You think so?’

Will reluctantly released her hand and dragged his mind back from what was turning into a totally unachievable fantasy. Thank heaven she had no idea what he was thinking.

Sophie smiled. The comment was probably her way of saying how uncomfortable the encounter with Will’s colleague had been for both of them. Will already had an idea what made this fascinating woman tick. She was naturally intuitive, dangerously unpredictable, and seemed to act at times solely on impulse.

And he liked it, he grudgingly admitted.

She’d also shown good judgement in her reaction to his successful, good-looking colleague. Andrew normally had any pretty woman he set his charismatic sights on under his spell in less than five minutes.

But not Sophie.

‘You’ve obviously known Andrew for a long time but … and I might have got the vibes wrong … you don’t seem to be best mates.’

She was dead right. But what could he say? He could hardly burden her with the traumas of his past.

‘You’re pretty close to the mark. But I didn’t mean to—’

‘No need to apologise. If he’s anything like my exfiancé …’

The words stuck in her throat and her cheerfulness drained away as rapidly as the healthy colour in her cheeks.

Will felt totally at sea. Talking about problems on a personal level, especially with a woman, wasn’t something he did. At least, not outside his consulting room. What was the point? It wouldn’t make what had happened all those years ago go away.

But Sophie looked so dejected, as if she carried deep sadness inside. He couldn’t just jump into his car and drive away without showing he cared. And, much to his surprise, he did care. A lot.

‘Andrew and I haven’t got much in common now. Our career paths diverged years ago and I guess we’re both busy with all our commitments.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Er … what was it about Andrew that reminded you of your boyfriend?’

They were approaching Sophie’s flat and Will rummaged in his pocket for the keys. He stopped on the doorstep and waited for Sophie’s reply.

‘Um … it’s difficult to explain.’ Her eyes lost focus for a moment but then she continued. ‘I thought he loved me but it turned out …’ She swung her gaze back. The pain was there in her eyes, hot and cruel. ‘It turned out he was a first-class bastard.’

It only took a moment for a rampant blush to flood her face and she began to stutter. ‘N-not that … um … It’s not that I think your friend …’

There was no way Will would use the word ‘friendship’ in the same sentence as Andrew Fletcher after what he’d done. But Sophie didn’t need to know that. She had her own demons to deal with.

‘I mean, Andrew might be a nice guy … It was just a gut feeling … I’m sorry.’

Will felt awkward, not quite sure what to say. He wanted desperately to comfort her, offer reassurance, but he’d been out of the social scene for so long … Giving her a hug was probably totally inappropriate, and he certainly didn’t want her to think he was cast in the same mould as Andrew. He respected his women friends and had decided long ago if he ever embarked on a serious relationship again it would be for life. And that certainly wasn’t going to happen any time soon. The baggage he carried was too heavy to share.

To disguise his discomfort he unlocked the door, and the heaviness of Sophie’s mood lifted.

‘There you go,’ he said, stepping aside. ‘Furniture’s basic, but you should have everything you need. I’ve left some supplies that I hope will keep you going until you have a chance to go shopping. There’s a deli—you probably saw it as we turned in from the main road …’

He still stood on the threshold, but Sophie had waltzed in and in two short minutes claimed the place as her own. She’d opened the kitchen blind and exclaimed at the quaintness of the small private garden on her back doorstep. She’d sat on the couch and plumped the cushions before smelling the small spray of freesias he’d put in a sauce bottle on the tiny gate-leg table in the corner.

‘Did you do this?’ she exclaimed as she opened the cupboards and then the fridge.

Youth and happiness, untarnished by life’s encumbrances, glowed on her face. The mood was contagious and Will wanted the moment to go on for ever.

‘I guessed what you might need. Don’t worry about throwing things away. Just give the non-perishables back to me if they’re unwanted.’

‘No. Everything’s perfect. I love it.’

She was back in the doorway, reaching out for his hand again, but this time like an excited child. ‘What are you standing outside for? Come in. The least I can do is make coffee.’

Damn, he had a meeting with a builder.

‘No. I have to go. I—’

Her expression changed. Was it disappointment?

‘Oh, of course. You’re a busy man and you must have commitments on the weekends.’ Her eyes were questioning. He was sorry how quickly Sophie’s mood had changed. ‘I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your precious leisure time. I’m sure your family …’

What leisure time? What family?

Lately nearly all Will’s time away from the clinic had been consumed by his efforts to get his pet project off the ground. Any sort of social life was out of the question and he had no family demanding his attention. Will’s heart clenched shut at the memory of the family he’d once had.

The family he’d lost, the family he’d failed … the family he’d destroyed.

And now … The residents of the Springs had infiltrated his life to become his kin. He’d long been aware that the older generation who had known his grandparents kept a watchful eye on him. And the young—the children of his adopted extended family—were the driving force behind his desire to do everything he could to give them the opportunity to achieve their full potential.

Could he ever repay his family?

He’d long ago realised the neighbourhood he’d been brought up in was the only place he felt truly at home. He’d be asking too much to expect Sophie to understand, her background being so different from his.

‘No need to worry about family commitments. I’m unattached—no rug rats keeping me awake at night.’ He feigned cheerfulness to disguise his loneliness.




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