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Every Boy's Dream Dad
Sue MacKay


Husband material or heartbreaker?Since her husband’s death in a dangerous police raid, another hero is the last thing Dr Rachel Simmonds wants…until she meets gorgeous local cop Ben Armstrong. He’s the father figure her adorable little boy Riley desperately needs – and the lover she yearns for.Can Rachel’s fragile heart withstand getting close to another man who does danger for a living?







Just this once, please be sensible and safe. I’ve already lost one man in our lives because he was a hero. I can’t lose another.

She wanted to stop him, to hold on to him and hug him, to tell him not to do anything stupid, but he wasn’t going to listen. Knowing that didn’t prevent the words that spilled out of her mouth.

‘So you’ll rush out into the water, regardless of your own safety? Never mind anyone else. Never mind the people who care about you. Like a damned hero.’

Ben stepped close and leaned near, so that only she heard the anger in his voice. ‘It’s not your place to be talking to me like this, Doc.’


Dear Reader

The Cook Islands are magical, and to spend a few days relaxing in Rarotonga is what dreams are made of. The first time I visited was with my husband, to attend a wedding. Nearly forty of us made the journey across from New Zealand, and we had so much fun that we went back a year later with our family. The beaches, the warmth, the motor scooters that we all learned to ride (and which I drove into the garden by mistake, because there’s no difference between the throttle and the brake) all added up to a package of fun.

This tiny nation is the perfect backdrop for Rachel and Ben’s story. Two bruised souls looking to move forward but afraid to take big steps. And what gets bigger than falling in love? Where better for them to test the waters of that love than here, where not a lot happens and everyone is very laid-back?

For Rachel the contrast with working in a hospital in the winter of London couldn’t be bigger. For Ben the Cook Islands are also very different from his native New Zealand. The slower pace and fewer big-time criminals make policing very different from back home. It also gives him the opportunity to ponder whether he could revert back to the medical career he abandoned two years earlier.

I hope you enjoy this story.

Cheers!

Sue MacKay

www.suemackay.co.nz




About the Author


With a background of working in medical laboratories and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Medical Romance stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her own hero in the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she indulges her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.

Also by Sue MacKay:

THE DANGERS OF DATING YOUR BOSS

SURGEON IN A WEDDING DRESS

RETURN OF THE MAVERICK

PLAYBOY DOCTOR TO DOTING DAD

THEIR MARRIAGE MIRACLE



These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk




Every Boy’s Dream Dad

Sue MacKay





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


Once again to Lindsay, a big thank you

for your endless support and encouragement.

You are my very own romantic story.




CHAPTER ONE


KNOCK. Knock. Bang. Bang.

Rachel grimaced as the pounding on her front door grew heavier with each passing second. It matched the thumping behind her eyes. ‘Not now. Please. I’m all peopled out for the day.’ There’d been a continuous stream of welcoming locals since sunrise—which came incredibly early in the Cook Islands. She sighed.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She huffed out an exasperated breath. Whoever was out there hadn’t received her telepathic message. She’d have to tell them straight to their face to go away.

Rachel didn’t bother with a smile as she swung the door wide. ‘Yes?’

The harsh glare of the overhead light made her blink. But she couldn’t blame the light for her throat abruptly closing up, or for how the heat-induced moisture on her skin that had plagued her all day suddenly dried.

On her front step stood a human behemoth. So what? She was used to big men. They held no thrall for her. So why the sudden lurch in her tummy? The quickening of her blood? Forget it, Rachel. She had no desire to hook up with anyone any time soon, if ever. Her new start in life did not include finding a soulmate. Or even a playmate. It was meant to be about finding peace and forgiveness, about letting go the despair that had kept her in a holding pattern for nearly two years.

But this man did have a body to drool over. He’d need to turn sideways to fit through her door. Not that he would be gaining access tonight. Or any other day or night. She tried swallowing, but she couldn’t.

‘She’s cut herself.’ A deep rumble shook her. ‘And got a black eye.’

‘What?’ Finally she noticed the tiny island lady in the man’s arms. Blood coursed down the wounded woman’s thigh to drip on to Rachel’s step.

‘You’re Dr Simmonds,’ her male visitor rumbled again.

No, right now she was a weary mother with a bewildered little boy whom she’d only just managed to settle for the night. Tomorrow she’d be the doctor everyone was waiting for. ‘You need to take her to the hospital.’

‘You’re closer.’

How did he know who she was? She’d arrived in Rarotonga only two days ago. Of course. The community grapevine, and the many locals who’d paid her their respects throughout the day. Her sluggish, aching brain wasn’t operating very well right now. Not when her bed beckoned so invitingly at the ridiculously early hour of eight o’clock. It had been a long and busy day that had started a little after four in the morning when roosters in the vicinity of the house had begun crowing.

Her visitor stood waiting, his gaze demanding her attention as he held the wounded woman. Black eyes, sharp and intense. Eyes that wouldn’t miss a thing, including that she wanted him gone.

Resigned to the fact he wasn’t taking the hint to disappear, Rachel stepped back. She couldn’t withhold her help—being a doctor wasn’t something she switched on and off as it suited her. She never refused aid to anybody needing her medical skills. Anyway, it was her new role in this small nation to look after the woman. ‘Take her through to the lounge.’

‘Yes, Doc.’ The man carried his load with ease, and placed the silent woman on the couch with heart-wrenching gentleness.

There went the clean cover. So much for washing it earlier. She’d be doing it again in the morning. Rachel flicked on the light and shook her head. So much for remembering to buy light bulbs with decent wattage while at the supermarket earlier. Not that she’d been going to spend time in this room tonight so the gloom hadn’t been a problem—until now. Kneeling beside the couch, she spoke softly to her patient. ‘I’m Rachel Simmonds, the new doctor.’

The woman opened one eye—the other was swollen closed—and studied Rachel curiously for a few moments before the eyelid drooped shut. But not before Rachel noted the pain lurking in that enormous brown orb. One cheek bled slightly from deep scratches. Twisting her head around, she asked the man, ‘Do you know what happened?’

‘She’s dazed. Might’ve been unconscious briefly.’

His accent sounded similar to what she’d heard locally these past couple of days but he didn’t look like an islander. His skin was suntanned rather than naturally brown. His big frame was all lean, well-honed muscle. She asked, ‘Where are you from?’

An exasperated sigh, followed by a begrudging answer. ‘Next door.’

Right, so he didn’t do friendly. Odd for around here, but who was she to complain? Her own temperament didn’t go all-out friendly these days. Then she really heard what he’d said. He was her neighbour. Gulp. So they’d probably see a bit of each other. Rare excitement fizzed across her skin. Reality check, Rach. Why would she be seeing much of this guy? He had a life, probably one that included a wife and kids. But she’d been told that in the Cook Islands there was no such thing as aloofness, no such thing as a stranger. So there’d be waves and hellos over the fence as they all went about their daily lives. Nothing like her old life in London, then.

With a flick of her head she returned her attention to the woman. Hopefully she’d be able to patch her up and send them both on their way quickly. But there were things Rachel needed to know. ‘What do you think caused the wound? Did you see it happen?’ she asked.

‘Found her lying on the kitchen floor when I got home. It looked like she slipped. She’d been mopping.’

Wow. Getting more vocal. Just. Rachel bit down a retort and straightened up, locking eyes with him. ‘So she’s not your partner?’

He shook his head. ‘My housekeeper.’

No wife, then? Or one who worked long hours and didn’t do housework? Rachel pulled back as hope flared that he might be single. Wrong, wrong, wrong. ‘I’ll need my medical kit.’ As she turned around, the police insignia on the sleeve of his blue shirt registered in her brain. Blimey, was she awake enough to deal with a patient if she’d missed that? ‘You’re a cop.’

He raised his eyebrows as though to say Yeah, what took you so long?—but said nothing.

‘Daddy?’

Rachel spun around to face the door, her heart thumping at the sound of hope in her son’s voice. ‘Riley, sweetheart.’ Every time Riley made this mistake she had to let him down, hurt him all over again. When would it stop? When would he finally come to understand that he’d never see his daddy again? The endless expectation that his father would walk through the door one night had driven her to shift halfway around the world in an attempt to get him past that hurdle. ‘Riley, you’re meant to be in bed, fast asleep.’

‘Daddy.’ Her son stood hesitantly in the doorway, his head tipped back as he stared up expectantly at the man dominating the lounge. He waited for some recognition, desperate to be lifted up and hugged by those strong arms. Riley could be forgiven his mistake. In the dull light she understood how a small boy might think the cop was his father, given both men were tall and broad, both had short, straight black hair and both wore police uniforms. At least this guy did. And Riley’s dad used to.

‘No, love. Not Daddy.’ She swept Riley up into her arms. The uncertainty in his eyes, the longing, the bewilderment broke Rachel’s heart all over. And cranked up the ever-present resentment at her late husband for dying. If Jamie stepped into the room right now she’d kill him all over again.

Riley shrunk into her chest, slid his arms around her neck. ‘I’m tired, Mummy.’

‘Let’s put you back to bed.’ They’d have to repeat the ritual of reading his favourite story before he’d agree to go to sleep in this new house, this new country, so far from home and everything familiar.

She glanced across at the woman lying waiting, her good eye still screwed tightly shut. The blood loss from the thigh wounds had slowed to an ooze. Nothing urgent but this poor woman still required her understanding and care.

Rachel pressed Riley’s head harder into her breast so he wouldn’t see the unpleasant sight he’d so far not noticed. He was distressed enough without having to face up to a woman lying in bloody, torn clothes on the couch. She turned to leave the room.

‘I can put him to bed.’ The deep voice caught at her, jinking her attention sideways.

‘He doesn’t go to strangers.’ Not since the day his father had died. Jamie’s police colleagues had swamped Riley with the best of intentions of being kind and friendly to a hero’s son. But unfortunately Riley now associated friendly strangers with the disappearance of his father.

‘Riley.’ The deep, rumbling voice became softer, gentler, coaxing. ‘Want me to read you a story?’

Against her chest Riley’s head lifted, nodded once. Dumbfounded, Rachel stared at her son, then across at this man who’d managed to get such a positive response. Without any effort. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered.

‘Ben Armstrong, Senior Constable, Cook Islands Police Department.’

Now she got the accent. Kiwi. Like her best friend, Lissie, who’d wangled an obstetrics job for her at the local hospital where there never used to be an obstetrician. Lissie, who’d also arranged this house for her to rent, having believed it was time Rachel moved on and made a new life for herself and Riley away from that big, empty apartment back in London.

Ben Armstrong held his hands out to Riley, who slowly shifted his weight and stretched to meet his new friend.

Amazed, Rachel handed her son over and muttered around a lump in her throat, ‘Second room on the right.’ She watched Ben’s large hands as he gently held her boy. Envy uncurled in her comfort-starved body. She’d love to be the one being held against that broad expanse of chest.

‘Have you got a book?’ he asked.

Somehow she managed to hear the question above the thudding in her ears and even gave a sensible answer. ‘On the bedside table.’

As the cop strode out of the room, Riley still didn’t say a word or make any sound. This wouldn’t work. Any moment now her son would realise what was happening and call out for her. All the more reason to hurry. Hefting her medical bag from the corner of the room, she went towards her patient.

Hot. Hot. Hot. Ben suppressed the urge to run his finger under his open collar. Dr Rachel Simmonds was something to be reckoned with.

Or would be if he was remotely interested in getting to know her. Which he absolutely was not. But, phew, she could set an iceberg on fire. What chance did his dormant hormones have of remaining indifferent? She stood tall and slim. Too slim. Except for the deep shadows staining her skin her face was very pale, delicate. Until she opened her mouth. Then she was very resolute. An intriguing, exciting combination that had already tripped a few switches within his brain. So his brain was below his belt these days? Why wouldn’t it be? When those eyes that reminded him of the wild bluebells growing on the family farm back home had rested on him he’d felt as though he’d been raked with a fire iron. Scorched. Seared. Sizzled.

She was a looker. That exquisite, fine-featured face, those big eyes laden with sadness, and the wildly curly hair that wasn’t quite blonde or brown haphazardly tied up with a gold ribbon: they all added up to a very neat and enticing package. Then there was the English accent that made him melt inside. She’d turn heads wherever she went, no doubt about it.

But his head would stay firmly facing in the right direction. Away from the new doc. He’d managed to avoid any sort of entanglement since … Pain sliced through his heart. Since that awful night that had turned his world upside down for ever. He leant into the agony. Anguish was good. It focused him, underlined his resolve should it look like faltering. Which it wasn’t going to do. Certainly not after just a few minutes in the company of one beautiful, sexy and very single-minded lady. One who was here for a year at the most.

‘Will you read my favourite story?’ The kid in his arms wriggled to be set down.

Ben shook his head clear of thoughts of the boy’s mother and placed Riley on his bed. ‘Sure. Which one?’

‘That one.’ Riley pointed to the top of a pile of well-thumbed books. ‘It’s about a naughty goat that eats the clothes off the washing line.’ The kid clambered over the bed, getting comfortable.

Ben noted all the pictures on the walls, the soccer ball in the corner, the stuffed toys on top of the set of drawers. He could have had a child with a room like this if he and Catrina had been given more time. If she hadn’t driven that night. If he’d been able to save her.

Don’t go there. Ben squeezed his eyes tight, trying to blank out Catrina’s last staccato breaths. The sight of her beloved face suddenly contorted with pain and illuminated by flickering red and blue from the emergency services’ lights. He tried to empty out the fear and helplessness that had paralysed him that night and which returned to grip him, squeeze him, whenever he thought about her.

He counted to ten.

Finally, finally, he managed to refocus on the boy’s room, and asked in a voice he didn’t recognise, ‘How old are you?’

‘Nearly five.’ The kid was concentrating on his book, turning the pages as he said, ‘I want to start school soon with my friend Harry. His brother, Jason, already goes.’

‘It’s good to have friends in a new place.’

‘Their mother is Lissie. She’s Mummy’s friend.’

‘I heard.’ Lissie was a newly appointed general surgeon from Auckland via London who had come to Rarotonga with her Cook Islands husband and their two boys. The community was lucky to have her. Her husband had come home to run his family’s boat-charter business since his father had had a stroke.

Already Lissie had been instrumental in getting a position created at the local hospital for women’s health after the death of her sister-in-law from cervical cancer. The woman had not wanted to see a local male doctor when symptoms had first presented, and by the time she’d given in and had an exam it had been too late.

The new obstetrician, this kid’s mum, would be heading up the much-needed new department as a trial for the next year.

‘Don’t you want to read to me now?’ Tears blurred Riley’s voice.

Ben perched on the edge of the bed and took the book from Riley’s willing hands. ‘Sorry, little fella. Of course I do.’

This boy obviously needed a father figure. Where was his old man? Had the doc done a runner? He’d nearly freaked out when Riley had called him Daddy—it made him want to escape the doc’s house, and getting Effie patched up would speed his departure. So here he was, about to read a story to her kid. Talk about getting very close very quickly to a little family he didn’t want anything to do with. Something deep inside told him the doc and her kid had the potential to draw him into their lives—which went directly against everything he believed in now. He ran solo in this world. It was the only way to get by.

‘I can read the story.’ The kid’s high-pitched voice cracked into Ben’s brain as the book was tugged from his grasp.

Okay, the kid didn’t need him here. Ben began to rise.

‘“Willy, the goat, likes to eat.”‘ The kid’s voice wobbled.

Ben paused, half off the bed.

The boy turned the page. ‘“Willy eats everything.”‘

Ben sank back down.

Another page was turned. ‘“Willy eats the flowers in the garden.”‘ The kid peeped up at Ben. ‘Do you like this story?’

Ben’s heart rolled under his ribs at the insecurity in the kid’s eyes. No child deserved to feel like that. ‘Yes.’

Riley’s face split with a huge yawn. Ben took the book, began reading from the next page, and within minutes the kid was asleep. Ben tucked the sheet up to his little chin and stood looking down at him, wondering what sort of life he’d come from, and what the future held for him.

Enough. Get out of here. Start thinking like that and next thing he’d know he’d be involved in the kid’s life. And the doc’s.

Stalking down the short hall he marvelled at all the boxes still to be unpacked. There were plenty more in the lounge too. Had the doc cleared out Harrod’s before she’d left England? The only room that appeared set up and completely free of clutter was the kid’s. Obviously the doc put making her son feel comfortable in his new surroundings first. Ben nodded to himself. So she was a good mother. Let’s see if she was a good doctor.

If only Effie hadn’t needed stitches he’d have dealt with her injuries and saved coming over here at all. But from the moment he’d found Effie it had been apparent she needed qualified medical care. He should’ve put her in the car and driven to the hospital. It wasn’t exactly far. But he’d had a brainless moment and decided Effie should see the new doctor as soon as possible. The women might as well get to know each other; they might be seeing a bit of one another over the fence in the months to come. He’d done right by his housekeeper bringing her here.

But face it, he was intrigued. What was the doc’s history? She’d travelled a big distance for a job in a second-rate hospital when, as a specialist, she could surely command a good position at any modern hospital with all the bells and whistles. Not to mention the huge salary that would go with such a placement. The Cook Islands didn’t usually attract highly qualified people willing to work for very little remuneration. Mostly the foreigners were Kiwis who came on holiday, thought they’d found a slice of heaven and stayed on for a year or two. But eventually most of them left again. As would the doc. He’d bet his rust bucket of a car on that. At least she wouldn’t find the local hospital lacking in good spirits and meaningful intentions. There was a brilliant crew up there.

Did the deep sadness darkening the doc’s eyes have anything to do with choosing such a remote part of the world to move to? Probably. That sadness made him yearn to reach out to her, pull her close in a hug. He wanted to banish that sorrow and bring laughter and light to her face. Hell, man, she didn’t come all this way to have you interfere in her life. You spend your time avoiding other people’s pain—why do you want to know about the doc’s problems?

Suddenly light-headed, he leaned against the wall, drew in deep breaths and gave vent to some silent oaths. As he calmed down, the sound of murmuring voices registered in his brain. In the lounge he could see the doc kneeling, gently applying iodine to Effie’s bruised and scratched face. His housekeeper winced and the doc instantly apologised.

‘So sorry. I’m being as careful as I can. We might see about a scan for that eye tomorrow.’ Dr Simmonds sat back on her haunches and reached for another piece of clean cotton wool, dunked it in antiseptic. That’s when she saw him, those blue pools blinking.

‘No CT equipment on the island.’ She wouldn’t fit in if she was expecting fancy gear.

Her eyes widened, sending an odd thrill of excitement deep into his gut. ‘Really? Then how do I find out what’s going on with patients who need scans?’

‘Serious cases are flown to Auckland. The rest are up to you.’ Ben snapped his lips together. If she hadn’t been informed about the basic facilities on the island, it wasn’t his place to warn her. Hadn’t Lissie told her the situation?

‘Guess I’ll have to adjust rather quickly to my new surroundings, then.’ She didn’t seem overly perturbed by his news, instead changing the subject. ‘Did Riley settle all right?’

‘Yes.’ Out like a light.

‘Thank you. It’s been an exciting day for him, playing with his friends and going to the beach. He’s exhausted.’ She stifled a yawn and reached to wipe a blot of blood off Effie’s chin.

‘So are you.’ The words were out of his mouth before he’d barely thought them. Getting far too chatty with her. Time to get out of here. Go home and crack the top on an ice-cold beer.

Her hand stilled on Effie’s arm. ‘Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.’ She swallowed another yawn, shook her head as though refocusing. ‘I’m about to clean and stitch these wounds now the local anaesthetic has started working.’

He didn’t think. Instead he reacted. ‘Want a hand?’

‘What?’ Astonishment lit up her face.

She looked delightful when she forgot to be resolute. ‘I’ll help.’ Where had his brain gone tonight? Hadn’t he already decided not to help her in any way, shape or form? Offering to assist in a medical situation was not a smart move. If he wasn’t careful he’d be telling her his life story. But it was too late to back out. He’d say nothing and act like the cop he’d become. Dropping to his haunches, he pulled her bag towards him and took out some latex gloves that were in a pouch near the top.

Shoving his large hands into the small gloves that barely covered his fingers, he grimaced. ‘Should be safe to pass you things.’

The doc was still staring at him. ‘I can manage.’

‘Want needle and thread?’

Her sigh fell between them. She was about to argue. He could see the gathering words storming across her face. Then Effie groaned, and thankfully the doc’s attention shifted to her patient.

He poked around in the kit for the cotton wool and antiseptic liquid, suddenly aware of the scent of lavender. Was that the doc’s perfume?

‘Thank you.’ She whipped everything out of his fingers.

Ben found suture thread and the needle container. He snapped the plastic vial holding a single needle, pushed the end of the thread through the eyelet and handed it over to the doc. Then he watched as her long, elegant hands expertly pulled the two edges of the first, deeper wound together, stitching internally, then externally down Effie’s leg.

‘Want to give her a tetanus shot?’ he asked thoughtlessly.

Those hands stilled for a brief moment. He’d gone too far. Now the questions really would start. He was way out of line, but the unexpected sense of ease that the familiar items in a simple medical bag gave him had made him careless with what he said.

The doc pulled the thread tight, tied off. ‘Yes, Effie will need immunising when I’ve finished stitching.’

Silence fell in the room, broken only by his quiet search of the kit for the tetanus vial and a syringe, which took a while as he studied familiar tools and vials. Until now he’d have said he never missed his old career. Until now.

The doc asked, ‘Effie, have you got someone to keep an eye on you overnight?’

Effie rolled her head to one side, winced with pain and whispered, ‘My husband and my daughter are away.’

‘Can she stay at your house?’ Rachel asked him directly. ‘She might be concussed.’

‘In principle that would be fine, but Effie’s a married woman, and people might get the wrong idea.’ The islanders might misinterpret his motives. ‘But she could stay with you.’

‘Effie, would you be all right with staying with me here? I’m afraid I haven’t got a spare bed yet.’

‘That would be fine, Doctor.’

The doc stood, stretching up onto her toes as she arched her back. Her hands gripped her hips, and her breasts pushed the fabric of her skimpy blue singlet top upwards. Her slim thighs were taut under the knee-length shorts she wore.

Ben’s mouth fell open. Snapped shut. Hell. He grappled for the very last threads of common sense still available in his skull. ‘Thanks for everything, Doc. Effie, I hope you feel better soon.’ And he almost ran for the front door and the familiar heavy night air where sanity prevailed.




CHAPTER TWO


RACHEL groaned and rolled over to see what the time was.

Four twenty-five. She gave another, louder groan. Those blasted roosters. Her head flopped back on the pillow and she absorbed all the foreign sounds of this tiny nation waking up. Birds she didn’t recognise were also making their morning calls. An occasional motor scooter chugged past her front lawn. A cow mooed from somewhere on the hill behind the house.

She stretched and grinned. It was kind of exciting being in such a different environment. She couldn’t be further from the chilly grey of London with the millions of people and the relentless traffic. And her parents. Her grin slipped.

Mum had been devastated when she’d heard Rachel’s plans but had also been encouraging about taking a chance on a new life. If only Dad had shown signs of opening up to Riley she mightn’t have come. But … she shrugged … dreams were free, and here she was, following one a very long way from her messed-up family.

Yesterday, as she’d watched Riley excitedly taking in the sights of odd-shaped trees with their green coconuts, the funny birds, the beach that followed them right around the island, she’d believed this had been the correct thing to do. On the day they’d arrived Riley had been tired and belligerent after the tedious hours spent in planes and airports. But yesterday he’d been full of beans, and paddling in the beautiful and safe lagoon had been a highlight for both of them.

Slipping out of bed, Rachel shrugged into a short satin robe and headed to the kitchen. A cup of tea on the tiny front deck while she watched the sun rise would be the perfect start to the day.

‘Morning, Doctor,’ Effie greeted her. ‘You want a drink? I boiled the water for you.’

Startled, Rachel spun around. ‘Effie. How’s that head? And your thigh?’ The colours from her bruises highlighting the little woman’s face were impressive. ‘I thought you’d still be asleep.’

‘I’m always up early.’ She held a cup out to Rachel. ‘What do you like?’

‘Tea, thank you, but you don’t have to run around after me.’

‘You fix my leg for me. Why don’t I make your tea?’

How logical. ‘Do you have children to get home to?’

Effie told her, ‘My daughter, Nina, gets herself to school, but last night she stayed with a friend.’ Effie’s voice brightened. ‘She’s fourteen. After school she goes to the grocery shop to work.’ She nodded through the window at the bungalow next door. ‘I’ll go to work for Ben this morning.’

Ben. Rachel turned to stare across the fence at the white bungalow with all its windows wide open. No need to lock up around here, Rachel mused. But, then, who would be game enough to take on such a big man as the local policeman, anyway?

Ben. A man of few words. Last night his abrupt departure had annoyed her. The fact he hadn’t made any mention of seeing her later rankled. She wanted to see him, get to know him a little better.

Thinking about her new neighbour made her tummy quiver as heat unfurled and unfamiliar desire rose. She’d tossed and turned half the night, wondering what it would be like to have him make love to her.

That body was something else. Jamie had also been a large man in superb physical condition so she knew exactly how those muscles would feel under her hands. Could imagine them rippling as her fingers slid over them. She blinked and turned back into the room.

‘How long have you been keeping house for Ben?’ she asked Effie.

‘Since he came more than two years ago.’ Effie giggled. ‘He’s messy. Clothes everywhere, plates and cups in the sink. Naughty man, I tell him, but he only laughs.’

So the man had flaws. Rachel grinned. Flaws were good, perfection was daunting. Then she had a brainwave. ‘Do you want more work? I need someone to do my housework too. I’m only working nine to three most days unless there’s an emergency, but I want to spend my free time with Riley, not on the end of a broom. At least until he’s settled.’

Effie’s face spread into a wide smile, lighting up the morning. ‘I’d love to help you, Doctor. I can clean the house, do the washing and ironing, look after your little boy if you’re late home. How many hours?’

Rachel smiled at Effie’s enthusiasm. ‘I don’t know yet. Can I tell you later when I’ve got myself a little bit more sorted?’ She would need to see how long it took her to get settled.

‘Want me to help unpack all those boxes?’

‘I’d love you to, but I still haven’t decided where everything will go.’ She’d had far too much furniture sent out.

‘That’s okay. You call me when you’re ready. Ben will tell you where I live. Here’s your tea.’

Rachel took the proffered cup. ‘Thank you very much. I’ll take a look at your wounds before you leave.’

‘Thanks, Doctor, but they’ll be all right. I’m going next door now to make Ben his bacon and eggs. He gets up early too.’

Rachel pulled a chair out from the table. ‘Ben can wait a few more minutes while I check you over.’

Effie laughed as she sat down. ‘You’re not as stern as you try to sound.’

‘Must be losing my touch.’ Rachel pulled on gloves then quickly tugged off the gauze covering Effie’s wounds. ‘Looking good. Don’t get these wet, though. No shower, no swimming.’

Effie looked shocked. ‘No shower?’

‘Have a wash down.’ Rachel tried to examine the bruised eye but gave up when Effie groaned. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay, Doctor.’

‘You never said how you fell.’

‘Skidded on the clean floor and banged into the glass door. Broke it, and hit my head on the corner of the bench on the way down.’ Effie gave a rueful smile. ‘Now I’ve got to go. That Ben needs feeding.’

Effie trotted down the path, favouring her injured leg, and ducked through the fence. Rachel suppressed the light envy that tripped through her. Effie was going to see Ben. And she wasn’t.

What a darned shame. She couldn’t think of a better way to start the day than rolling over in bed and finding Ben beside her. Which only went to show how much notice she took of her own warnings. Ben was out of bounds. Full stop. But he was a neighbour. She couldn’t avoid him, didn’t want to avoid him. But nothing. Ben was a handful of firm muscle, had a touch of arrogance, and, if the way he’d seen to Effie last night was anything to go by, he was someone who’d definitely put himself out there to care for others. Which made him a hero of sorts.

And she would never, ever go near a hero kind of guy again. Since when had she got over Jamie’s death enough to even be thinking about another man? The shock of losing her husband so suddenly still woke her at the deepest part of the night, sometimes with tears saturating her pillow. Her anger at Jamie was real but she missed him terribly. She wasn’t ready to move on. She might never be. The thought of suffering that kind of pain and grief again had so far stopped her wanting to get involved with another man.

What about having an affair? With someone as scorching hot as Ben? Her eyes drifted to Ben’s house. It would be so easy. Too easy. Until it was over and then what? Every morning she’d sit out on her deck and he’d be just over the fence. She’d be straining her ears to hear the slightest sound, be watching furtively for a glimpse of him. The island was too small to avoid anyone for very long. Life would be difficult if not impossible because she wasn’t the kind of woman to have a fling and walk away. Even in a brief, totally sexual encounter she gave too much of herself, needed too much back. She didn’t do sex for the sake of it. She’d tried it once while at university and had got burnt—nobody’s fault but her own. So, no fling with her neighbour.

Disappointment tugged her shoulders down. Tipping the tea away, Rachel concentrated on making another cup, this time black.

Three hours later Rachel had Riley dressed, breakfasted, and ready to start out on their first proper day in the islands. The rest of the unpacking would have to wait.

‘Need a lift?’ The deep, gruff voice of last night’s dreams broke through her thoughts from her back door.

Stomping down on a sudden burst of excitement, Rachel reluctantly told Ben, ‘Thanks, but we’re catching the bus.’

Hot damn. He looked good in his freshly pressed uniform. The light blue of his shirt accentuated the black of his eyes and hair. His biceps filled the sleeves in a mouthwatering way. The black trousers fitted perfectly. He had a body to die for. She grinned. She’d been doing a lot of that since arriving here. But who could blame her? Then Ben’s left eyebrow rose and she switched the grin off.

Riley slowly approached, shy of Ben today. ‘You read me a story last night.’

Ben bent down to his level. ‘Hey, kid, good morning.’

Those trousers stretching across Ben’s butt accentuated the very tidy shape. A shape she’d love to cup with her hands, to feel his hot flesh against her palms. Rachel closed her eyes briefly. To stop herself staring. To prevent Ben seeing the lust she knew would be gleaming there. To get herself back under control. What was wrong with her this morning? One glimpse of a man in a uniform and she was having X-rated thoughts. Oh, no. She wasn’t a uniform follower, surely? Jamie had always looked dashing in his and she’d loved ogling him. Clearly it was the uniform and not Ben that had her in such a stew. Thank goodness she’d said no to the ride.

But Riley wrecked everything by suddenly opening up to Ben, a big, peanut-butter-smeared smile on his face. ‘Can I have a ride with you in the police truck? Can we have the lights flashing?’

Ben looked bamboozled at the onslaught. ‘No lights.’

Rachel reacted without thought. ‘No, Riley. You’re not racing around the island in a police car. Taking a ride with Ben is one thing but I’ll not have you thinking you’re playing cops with him.’ Her son was not going to be a policeman. He would grow up with a balanced outlook on helping people. He would not think he had to rush in fearlessly to save people while putting himself in danger at the same time.

‘All boys want to be a policeman or fireman. It goes with the genes.’

Obviously she was meant to take him seriously. ‘Not my boy.’

‘Your call.’ Ben shrugged eloquently, letting her know he didn’t agree. Too bad. Riley was her responsibility.

Riley looked from Rachel to Ben and back. Then an abrupt subject change. ‘I’m going to play with Harry today.’

Rachel’s throat blocked. Riley had turned to Ben as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Which it definitely was not for her sad little boy. But for some inexplicable reason Ben seemed to touch a chord with Riley that no other man had since Jamie’s death. Because Ben didn’t try too hard? Fear gripped her. Was this a good idea? What if Riley got too close to him? It would break his little heart all over again when they moved on. This wasn’t a permanent destination for them. At least she hadn’t planned on it being so.

Ben glanced at her. ‘I’m leaving in five.’

Yes, so? ‘We’re going to the hospital.’

‘I go past the front door.’

The main road did not go that close to the hospital. But it would be easier to catch a ride with Ben and not have to walk up the hill to the hospital with her bag while towing Riley along as well. ‘Then thank you, I accept.’

‘Okay.’

‘Can I throw a box of medical books in your vehicle?’

‘No problem.’ He headed back down the path.

Rachel stared at his departing back. That’s it? The man had no conversational skills whatsoever. Or was that something he’d deliberately cultivated to keep people at bay? If so, why?

Come to think about it, why was someone as obviously bright and ambitious as Ben living in Rarotonga? She had nothing against Rarotonga, but she couldn’t imagine that the police department in a community this size had a lot of complex cases for him to sink his teeth into. Something about this scenario did not ring true.

But, hey, look who’s talking? You’re here, aren’t you? Lissie may have sweet-talked her into giving it a try, but she hadn’t come here because she couldn’t keep up with the best of them back in London. And she definitely wasn’t going backwards by working for a small country. If anything, her qualifications would be enhanced with the women’s clinic she was setting up.

So she had no place speculating on Ben’s reasons for being here. But she was interested in him and wanted to know what made him tick. Her mouth twitched as she fought a grin. A perfect excuse to be nosy. Better be a little cautious, though. He might bite. Now, there was a thought. Her skin cells danced in happy anticipation even though that wasn’t going to happen.

Ben carried the doc’s box of books into her office while she jabbered on with the woman who’d taken up the post as the doc’s secretary, Colleen. In her fifties, Colleen and her husband, Ed, had moved over from Wellington for the warmer climate in the hope it would ease Ed’s arthritis. According to Lissie, Colleen was efficiency personified, and would have the doc so organised the only thing she’d have to do on her own was breathe.

A huge vase of red-and-yellow hibiscus blooms sat in the centre of the desk. New pens and a large pad had been lined up neatly. The doc probably wouldn’t realise how much she was wanted and needed here.

‘Wow, are those for me? What a lovely surprise.’ Rachel spoke up behind him, making him start. Brushing past him, her arm slid across his and he had to fight the urge to haul her against him. Imagine if he did. There’d be fireworks for sure.

‘They’re all yours,’ he croaked.

‘Makes me feel very special.’

‘Watch out for ants.’ When her exquisitely styled eyebrows arched at him, Ben added, ‘Off the flowers.’

She placed her medical bag on the desk.

His warning obviously hadn’t sunk in. ‘Your bag. Ants.’

Her pale face turned a dusky pink. ‘Okay, slow learner.’ Her bow-shaped mouth curved into a sweet smile that twisted his belly and flooded him with warmth. Rachel’s glance checked the empty shelves, the hospital bed pushed against one wall, and she chuckled. ‘Well, here we go. First day of my new job. It’s quite exciting to be practising in such a different environment.’

‘It won’t be easy.’ In case she’d missed the point last night, she needed to be warned that there’d be no fancy diagnostic equipment, should be told that second opinions came via the phone or email. At the end of the day the buck stopped with her. There were going to be times when she’d feel very isolated. How she dealt with that would be a test of her mettle. Somehow Ben didn’t think she’d be found wanting. But he was only guessing. Her needlework last night had been fine, but that had a degree of difficulty of one on a scale of one to ten.

‘There’ll probably be moments when I’ll wish I was back in London, but right now I see this as a challenge. It’s all too easy to take everything for granted when you work in a very modern hospital with all the equipment and staff you need available at the push of a button.’

Should he tell her he’d happily discuss any diagnosis problems she might have? Icy bumps lifted the skin on his arms. No way could he do that. Not now, not ever. What was happening to him that he’d even consider such a thing?

‘Ben, Rachel, there you are.’ Lissie bounced into the room, her smile wide, her eyes filled with happiness. ‘Glad you brought Rachel in, Ben. I ran out of time with Jason arguing that he shouldn’t go to school when Harry and Riley didn’t have to.’ Lissie wrapped her arms around the doc in a big hug. Rachel seemed to sink into her friend’s arms as though she needed the comfort.

‘Not a problem,’ he muttered.

Lissie dropped her arms, turning to him. ‘I hear poor Effie was our new doctor’s first patient after her accident last night.’

‘Right.’ Ben watched the ease the women had with one another. A sense of loss, of being on the outside, slammed into him. When had been the last time someone had hugged him? As in an affectionate kind of hug? Far too long ago. Since when had he even needed a damned hug? Right now, as it happened. After last night’s onslaught of emotions over Catrina, he’d ached with need for closeness to someone. Quickly, before he let despair take hold, he dug deep for the strength to haul up the protective barrier he usually kept wrapped around his heart and soul. He didn’t need close friends. He was a stand-alone man these days. Far safer. For them, as well as him.

‘How did you hear about Effie?’ Rachel grinned at the other doctor.

‘Everyone knows everything that goes on in Raro. Don’t forget that if you decide to do something you don’t want found out.’ Lissie grinned back. ‘Colleen has taken Riley for a look at the carp in the pond outside. She’s happy to look after him until Lanette gets here to collect him. Lanette’s running a bit late.’

The doc shrugged and laughed again. ‘So Riley’s not a problem? He can sit in here with me until your sister-in-law turns up.’

‘Colleen will be spoiling him rotten already. She loves kids, and misses her grandkids heaps.’

Ben straightened up from leaning against the wall. ‘I’m off. I can drop Riley at Lanette’s.’

The doc’s mouth tightened. ‘I thought you were on your way to work.’

Didn’t she like him stepping in to help? ‘I go past Lanette’s house.’

‘Okay, then, thanks. I’ll come and find him, explain the change of plan.’ Her mouth eased off the tension.

Lissie asked, ‘Ben, do you know anyone with a reliable car for sale? Rachel’s adamant she needs one, though I keep telling her the buses are fine.’

‘I don’t fancy catching a bus hauling a week’s worth of groceries with me.’ Rachel sighed. ‘Besides, what happens if I get called in during the night? No buses then.’

‘Use my car.’ The offer was out before Ben had thought through the ramifications. ‘Until I find you one to buy.’

‘Won’t you need it?’ the doc asked.

‘Got a work truck.’

Lissie explained, ‘The cops are allowed to use their vehicles to go to and from work, which means they can stop just about anywhere in their own time.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Rachel, you’ve got lots of people waiting to meet you before your first clinic at ten.’

‘Right, I’ll say goodbye to Riley and get started.’

Ben stepped out of the office. Time to put some miles between him and his distracting neighbour. Distracting? An exploding petrol tanker would be a distraction. This woman made much more of an impact. He should never have hung around in her office, but he’d wanted to see her in her working space so he could picture her throughout his day. He had a sense of losing control, of acting like a lovesick puppy around her.

He suspected she’d be a superb obstetrician. Ask him to justify that and he couldn’t, but Rachel had a purposeful air that demanded confidence in her. The women had been talking for weeks now about the new ladies’ doctor coming to the island. One of his colleagues said his wife would’ve gone back to New Zealand to have her baby if the doc hadn’t been appointed. He believed the women were in good hands.

Stepping outside, Ben shook away the old, familiar hospital smells that had taunted him while he’d been inside. Formalin seemed to have a way of getting into everything, even in rooms where it was never used. It had a smell most people disliked but he’d accepted it as part of his life a very long time ago when he’d started his medical training.

He strode away, swearing under his breath. He did not need this. It was all the doc’s fault these once-buried memories were pounding at him again. Why couldn’t Lissie have found her a house to rent further around the island, closer to the hospital? Why did he keep opening his trap and offering to do things for her? Like taking the kid to Lanette’s. That need to help her he’d felt last night would not go away.

Ben headed to the pond and slapped his hands on his hips as he watched the boy leaning over the water, following a large carp swimming around the edge. Beside him the doc was talking softly, her face full of love.

Stay away from the kid, Ben growled to himself as his heart rolled over. Stay away from the doc, he hissed in his mind as his stomach tightened. Then life would return to its uneasy but uneventful pace and he could slip back into obscurity.

Rachel followed Colleen through the hospital, being stopped every few minutes by someone wanting to shake her hand and welcome her to Rarotonga. ‘I’m starting to feel like royalty,’ she quipped to Colleen. ‘I only hope I can remember everyone’s names.’

‘You’ll be fine.’ Colleen stopped at the open door to the maternity ward. ‘At least this should look familiar to you.’

Stepping into the noisy room with windows pushed open to allow in any breeze that might come this way, Rachel paused to assimilate the atmosphere. There was something special about maternity wards. She supposed it was because of the excitement for the new lives. Expectant mums and those who’d already delivered stopped chattering and watched her, their faces open and friendly.

‘Hello, I’m Dr Rachel Simmonds.’

They swarmed her, two young women bringing their newborn babes for her to inspect. Rachel took each in turn to cuddle. Babies—who could resist them?

Then a stunningly beautiful woman approached and spoke in a soft lilt. ‘Hello, I’m Manea, the midwife.’ After giving Rachel a welcoming embrace she said, ‘I’d like to talk to you about one of my patients.’

In the little office off to the side of the ward Rachel listened while Manea explained her patient’s symptoms. ‘Kiriana is having her first baby at age thirty-five, which is very late for an islander. She’s been on the internet reading up about everything that can go wrong. And now she wants a whole battery of tests done that I can’t provide.’

‘This is when I dislike the net intensely. All it achieves is to cause more worry than a pregnant woman should have.’ Rachel read Kiriana’s notes. ‘Everything seems perfectly normal. No anaemia, no hepatitis, blood pressure’s good.’

‘Could you examine her?’ Manea asked. ‘It might settle her down to have a doctor taking her fears seriously. I’m the girl who grew up next door. Not likely to be totally convincing when it comes to persuading her everything’s going well.’

‘Can you arrange an appointment for her? Might as well see her as soon as possible. She hasn’t mentioned amniocentesis?’

‘Down’s syndrome is top of her list for things that can go wrong.’

‘It would be.’ Rachel sighed. People put themselves through untold worry at times. ‘I’ll see her as soon as she can come in.’

They went on to discuss all Manea’s patients but the midwife had no other concerns. ‘Hopefully I won’t be bothering you too often,’ she said as she put the patient notes away in a filing cabinet. ‘But I’m thrilled to have an obstetrician to be able to call on if necessary. I bet the GPs are pleased too.’

‘I haven’t met them yet. I’ll drop into the medical centre some time over the next few days to make myself known.’

Colleen piped up. ‘All sorted. You’re to go on Thursday afternoon.’

Rachel started. ‘Thanks for that.’

Colleen glanced at her watch. ‘Right now you’ve got a patient waiting to see you.’

‘Already?’ They certainly weren’t giving her time to settle in.

‘It’s a straightforward consult. One of the bosses at the airline’s office wants to meet you just in case anything goes wrong with her pregnancy. She’s flying home to Auckland next month, four weeks before her baby is due, but is playing it safe.’ Colleen smiled cautiously. ‘I think you’ll get a lot of that—playing safe. Especially with the Kiwis.’

‘That’s fine. Understandable, I suppose, if they’re used to big, modern hospitals.’ Rachel shrugged away her disappointment. She liked to see a pregnancy through to the end, not be a stopgap measure. But who could blame women who wanted to go home to be with family and friends when they were having a baby?

The day of Riley’s birth was still vivid in her mind. She’d been in awe of the tiny bundle the midwife had handed her. And the stunned expression on Jamie’s face and the unqualified love in his eyes as he’d met his son for the very first time had taken her breath away. There’d been a steady stream of friends and colleagues visiting her and Riley while she’d remained in hospital. And Jamie had hardly left her side until he’d been able to take them home.

So why had Jamie gone and got himself shot? What had possessed him to do something so stupid he’d deprived Riley of his father?

She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Nearly two years later and she still couldn’t fathom Jamie’s actions that day. She was still angry and hurt. Pulling herself together for the people who needed her to be strong, she blindly followed Colleen down the corridor. Bring on the work, the patients, the mind-diverting everyday things that would get her past these moments.

The work would settle her, help ease the pain of the past and, just maybe, make the future a little more appealing than it had been since Jamie’s murder.




CHAPTER THREE


RACHEL saw her patient out and turned back to her office. After only a few days she felt completely at home in this small hospital.

‘Doc, how’s your morning been?’ Ben’s voice reached her from across the hall, caressed her skin, turning the humid heat to a dry sizzle.

She whipped around, hoping he put her red cheeks down to her not being used to working in temperatures in the high twenties. ‘Ben. What are you doing here? I thought you were on duty today.’

‘I’ve brought someone in for urgent medical attention.’ His gaze cruised over her face, down her neck and on down her body as he lounged against the wall.

The sizzle became sparks. Forget high twenties, try high thirties. The air-conditioning was next to useless so earlier she’d thrown open all the windows, but right now she was overcooking.

His gaze had stuck on her legs. She shouldn’t have worn a short skirt to work but most of her clothes were not suitable for this climate. The skirt should’ve been cool but she might as well be wearing woollen trousers for all the good it did. Ben had an unprecedented effect on her. A lingering glance from him and she had all the backbone of one of those jellyfish purported to be beyond the reef. What would it be like to succumb to that provocative sensuality glittering out at her?

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Whatever the answer, she was not about to find out. Concentrate. And not on what he seemed to be thinking either. ‘What’s the problem with the patient?’

‘He’s got too much spare time on his hands.’

‘What’s wrong medically?’

Ben grimaced. ‘He fell while climbing out of his truck outside the police station, knocked himself unconscious on the kerb. He had a fit and nearly swallowed his tongue but we managed to prevent that.’

‘We?’

‘Okay, me.’ Ben shrugged.

‘He’s a very lucky man.’ Lucky Ben knew what to do in the circumstances. Another example of his competence around injured folk. Had he done a first-aid course? Probably a prerequisite to being a policeman here. ‘What about the head wound? Is he going to be all right?’

‘Lissie’s with him. He’s got a hard head.’

Rachel raised her eyebrows. Surely he was joking? A tiny glint twinkled back at her from those intense black eyes. So he was teasing. Who’d have believed it? The man had a fun side after all.

‘Glad to hear he’ll be all right.’ She paused. ‘While you’re here, are you sure you’re happy with me giving Effie some extra work?’ Why had she asked? To make polite conversation? Not likely. Shock rippled through her. She was trying to delay him, keep him talking to her. It didn’t matter what about; she just wanted to watch the lines of his face when he spoke. He had a strong face that softened when he thought no one was looking. His mouth could be grim, as it had been when he’d delivered Effie to her, but it could also lift into the most stomach-crunching, heart-melting smile that made her think of the sun coming out behind the grey snow clouds on an English winter’s day.

‘No problem. Got time for a coffee?’ he muttered, then looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Regretting his invitation already? ‘Yes, I do, as it happens.’ Clinic didn’t start for another twenty minutes.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Where do we go? I haven’t found out what’s available here. Colleen always appears with coffee just as I start to feel in need of caffeine.’ A mischievous impulse made her step in front of him and look up into his eyes. The mischief faded as those eyes widened and something like desire danced through them. The emotion she could read in Ben’s face was rolling through her own body at the steady, unrelenting pace of a juggernaut. Intense, persistent and so exciting. As though Ben had flicked on a hundred switches all over her body and flooded her with such warmth that she was melting.

And he hadn’t even touched her, not with so much as one fingertip.

This need hit her hard. It had been a long time since she’d wanted a man. A long time since she’d last made love. To Jamie. A cooling breeze brushed over her skin. Or was it a dose of reality? Jamie. Her one true love. The man she’d thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with, having more children with. A shiver shimmied up her spine and she rubbed her hands down her arms, felt the goose-bumps under her palms. Lusting after Ben was a mistake; following up on it would be disastrous. She took a backward step, away from Ben, away from temptation.

Ben’s gaze darkened. Not used to being walked away from? They were in for some difficult times if they didn’t get this sorted and the attraction put in perspective before it erupted into something neither of them could control.

Rachel drew a shaky breath, steeled her shoulders, and said, ‘Come to think of it, I should probably go over to the clinic early.’

‘Right.’ His eyes bored into her. Was he sorry? Relieved? Who would know? He wasn’t exactly a bag of information, didn’t seem to see the need to let people in on his feelings.

‘Ben, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. I really don’t want to get involved with anyone, whether for one night or a month. I’m still coming to terms with losing my husband. It’s like I’m riding a roller-coaster. One day I think I’m moving on, getting a new life; the next it’s as though I’m still back at that first day, hearing the chief constable telling me Jamie wouldn’t be coming home ever again. It’s been hard. I still miss him.’

She stopped. What on earth was she doing, telling him all this? He didn’t need to know. A simple ‘No, thank you’ to that desire lurking in his eyes would’ve been enough. But she wanted him so badly it hurt. She yearned to be held by those strong arms, to be taken away on a wave of passion so wild that she forgot everything for a short while. She stared up at the man who’d unlocked this need in her. ‘I’m sorry.’

Now he did touch her. A gentle trace down her cheek with his forefinger. ‘Don’t be. I understand.’

Really? ‘Thanks.’

‘My wife died nearly three years ago.’ Pain bleached his suntanned cheeks, cracked his voice, shook the finger on her cheek. ‘I miss her every minute of every day.’

Then he was gone. Striding down the corridor as though the devil was after him, sending him on his way—away from her. Leaving her to contemplate the coincidence that they’d both lost a spouse. He really did understand her mixed-up emotions.

Ben slammed the truck door shut, snapped the ignition key on, and clanged the shift into forward drive.

Then hesitated. Rachel reminded him of things he’d banned from his life for ever. Essential things like caring for someone special, like sharing day-to-day occurrences such as buying the milk, cleaning the kitchen bench after having a meal together.

His head banged back against the headrest. He had told her about Catrina. He never talked about his late wife. To anyone. Not to his friends. Not to his family. No one. Yet he’d blurted it out to the doc whom he’d known less than a week. The shock in her eyes had woken him up from that desire-induced state he’d slipped into. Desire had crept through him without thought, without any hindrance on his part, igniting a deep need he hadn’t known he had. A need to love again, to be loved again. How had this happened? All he’d done was ask her if she wanted a coffee.

All he’d done?

When was the last time he’d asked a woman out for a coffee?

You invited Catrina to join you at that café down on the wharf in Wellington. You’d been watching her feeding the pigeons and fallen in love with her there andthen. You walked right up to her, introduced yourself and offered to buy her a cappuccino. Yes, she’d said so fast you’d had to check you’d heard her correctly. She’d grinned. And the rest was history.

Except it had been a short history. Catrina’s life had been cut off when she’d overshot the motorway off-ramp, made an abrupt turn at speed and lost control of the car. Life was cruel. While he hadn’t got much more than a scratch, Catrina’s ribcage had been crushed by the steering wheel. Flail chest. Every time she’d breathed those broken ribs had torn at her lungs.

All his medical training had been for nothing that night. The best he’d been able to do had been to hold Catrina’s hand and talk to her as they waited for the paramedics—who were never going to be able to save her. He hadn’t been able to save her life, or even dull her pain. He’d been useless. Devastated as he’d watched the life leave his beautiful, vibrant Catrina. Furious that he’d felt relief when she could no longer feel the excruciating pain.

Ben gasped a lungful of humid air. He eased his foot onto the accelerator and drove carefully down the narrow lane out to the main route into town. His hands were shaking. Sweat beaded on his brow. He hadn’t consciously thought about that night in months. He didn’t go there any more than necessary. It hurt too much. That night had been the end of one life and the start of another less involved one that had brought him here, away from family and friends. His wife was squeezed into a tight, locked cell in his heart, only to be taken out when he got so desperate for her laughter, her wisdom, her chatter that he couldn’t ignore it. And every time he did that he sank into a black hole that took a binge session at the pub to blot out the pain.

So why had he lifted the lid on all that now? Why with Rachel Simmonds? The doc. Something about her had touched him in a place he’d long believed dried up and dead. It wasn’t sex. Oh, he wanted that as well. No doubt about it. But that wasn’t what was going on here. So what was? He didn’t have an answer.

You don’t want an answer. You’re too afraid of where it will take you.

The truck surged forward as Ben’s foot pressed the accelerator. His shoulders bit into the seat behind him. Whoa, slow down, man.

Slow down on everything. Especially slow down on being friendly with your new neighbour.

Take every day one moment at a time. Stay as far away from her as you possibly can. Give her time to settle in. Get to know her slowly. Why? Because then you’ll have got past this wish to make love to her, to look out for her, to show her how things work in island life, and then you’ll be able to have a normal, friendly, neighbourly relationship with her.

Ben grunted. One day at a time? Sure. He could do that. If he was blind and deaf. If his peanut brain returned to normal.

Rachel flopped down on the towel she’d spread over the sand. Splashing around in the sea was the perfect way to finish a day after work. Not that work had been strenuous, far from it. Everyone she met, staff and patients, were very friendly. She might find her enjoyment from the job again if this kept up. But from her life? That was expecting too much.

The sound of clapping came from further down the beach where a wedding was taking place. The bride looked gorgeous in her cream-and-gold dress as her new husband kissed her. Her attendants wore gold, strapless gowns, while the men were dressed in open-necked cream shirts, tan trousers and bare feet. Rachel grinned. Back home no one would believe her when she told them. Bare feet at a wedding? Practical in the sand and a fun element in the photos. The clear sky and blue waters of the lagoon made a perfect setting for the ceremony. No wonder so many Kiwis came over here to get married.

‘Mummy, look at me jumping the waves,’ Riley called from the water’s edge where tiny wavelets lapped.

‘Watch out for sharp rocks,’ she called back. A cut on his foot could take some time to heal in this moist heat.

‘He loves the beach.’ Ben hunkered down on his haunches beside her.

She swallowed. With the effect Ben had on her she should’ve sensed him coming. It had taken time and a patient in labour for her to get past his startling revelation that morning. Then there was the way her body had reacted to him. That had taken longer to get over, and by the tingling in her fingertips and in her tummy now she hadn’t been very successful.

But she did understand some of Ben’s reticence when it came to opening up and talking. Which only made what he’d told her even more surprising. Why had he told her? Was it because she’d been so open about her feelings surrounding Jamie’s death? Well, there were a few things she hadn’t mentioned and had no intention of telling him any time in the near future. Things best kept to herself.

‘Can he swim?’ Ben’s gaze was firmly fixed on Riley.

‘No. Last weekend was the first time he’d been to a beach.’

‘I’ll teach him.’

‘What?’ Ben offering to show Riley how to swim would mean several visits to the beach, would mean he’d be spending more time with them.




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