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Gold Coast Angels: How to Resist Temptation
Amy Andrews


Rule #1 for Dr Cade Coleman: Redeem his heartbreaker reputation! That’s why this drop-dead sexy playboy has moved to Gold Coast City Hospital, leaving a scandal in New York far behind him. Only the delicious Dr Callie Richards has him falling at the first hurdle! Usually strictly professional, Callie’s encounter with Cade knocks her off her feet.Only it’s clear he’s determined that there’ll be no re-runs.While she knows she should try to forget that amazing night, too, Cade – who’s so hot he should come with a health warning - is the ultimate temptation!










Dear Reader

I hope you have been enjoying the Gold Coast Angels series. Having been a part of a few continuities now, I can tell you without hesitation how very much I enjoy them. It’s nice not to write in isolation for a change, to live in a world that you build together with your fellow writers, brick by brick, and where everyone knows you!

I hope you are buckled up for Cade and Callie’s story. Cade was one of the secondary characters in the hugely successful New York City Angels series, and I know readers have been clamouring for his HEA.

The problem is both Cade and Callie have baggage—relationships that have broken them and made them determined to hold themselves back. Their careers have taken priority in their lives and they like it that way!

But fate has different ideas for these two, and I hope you enjoy their dance as they realise that career is just one aspect of a whole life. And that sometimes you need to give in to temptation and surrender to a higher power—love.

Happy reading!

Amy Andrews




Praise (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)


‘I am an avid fan of Ms Andrews, and once any reader peruses this book they will be too.’

—Cataromance on

TOP-NOTCH SURGEON, PREGNANT NURSE

‘A wonderfully poignant tale of old passions, second chances and the healing power of love…an exceptionally realistic romance that will touch your heart.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews on

HOW TO MEND A BROKEN HEART


AMY ANDREWS has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs.

She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au




Gold Coast Angels:

How to Resist

Temptation

Amy Andrews







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




DEDICATION (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)


To three awesome writers—

Marion Lennox, Fiona McArthur and Fiona Lowe.

I am honoured to be in your number.




Table of Contents


Cover (#ua57ed526-115f-5a5d-9c59-adcbe193d09c)

Praise

About the Author (#u80a2ffdf-ae21-507f-a96f-b6ccd4df91b7)

Title Page (#uc0f4d922-c1db-5ea8-85df-af97dad78046)

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)


IT HAD BEEN a long time since Cade Coleman had felt so objectified. But standing in front of a ballroom full of appreciative women with their chequebooks out took him right back to the ‘bad old days’.

Back then he’d been pool and garden guy to a bunch of bored Beverly Hills housewives. But now? At thirty-five he was Dr Cade Coleman, neonatal specialist, one of the shining stars in the crown of the Gold Coast City Hospital. His reputation was impeccable and his passion for the little lives in his care had driven him to blaze his way into the relatively new arena of prenatal surgery.

He’d come far since losing his way—and his virginity—to a string of gorgeous cougars, and even though he was here tonight, on the opposite side of the world and in the name of charity, the irony was not lost on him.

‘What will you bid?’ the emcee, a well-known celebrity and another gorgeous cougar who looked like she might just buy him herself, called to the crowd. ‘Remember, Dollars for Dates raises an extraordinary amount of money every year for the neonatal unit and this year…’ she paused and gave Cade the once-over, much to the crowd’s delight ‘…we’ve saved the best for last.’

Cade smiled good-naturedly. When he’d been asked to participate in the annual fundraiser, he hadn’t hesitated. He didn’t mind squiring around any of the aging Gold Coast charity queens populating the crowd for a night—not if it meant he could expand his prenatal surgery options.

‘Do I have two hundred dollars?’

An excited murmur ran through the crowd as people considered their options. Then, from towards the back a very hesitant, ‘Fifty,’ could be heard.

Cade clutched his chest and feigned his very best insulted look. ‘Ma’am, you wound me,’ he said, his voice easily projecting to the rear of the room.

The crowd laughed as the emcee cooed, ‘Oh, and he’s an American, ladies. How very exotic.’

‘Two hundred,’ a voice called from the left.

Callie Richards, admiring the spectacle from her table, glanced over at the bidder, smiling at the total lack of hesitancy this time. Seemed the accent was a real clincher! And then the bidding was off.

Not that she could blame any of them. Cade Coleman had been setting hearts aflutter ever since his arrival at the hospital a couple of months ago. Being tall, tanned, lean, ripped and foreign would do that.

So would looking dashing and debonair and just a little bit Rhett Butler in his tuxedo.

God knew, she wasn’t immune to those broad shoulders and all that brash American confidence despite what she knew about him from Alex, his stepbrother—and probably the closest thing she had to a friend in the entire world, even if he did live on the other side of the planet.

According to Alex, Cade had fled the US over a problem with a woman. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Which only meant that Cade had baggage. And explained why, to the best of her knowledge, he’d been resolutely single since his arrival.

Not that it had stopped her making a fool of herself with the man. Getting tipsy and flirty with him at a wedding, not long after their rather rocky first acquaintance, and being subsequently rejected had been a particularly humiliating incident. Sure, he’d been nice about it, but it had been a long time since Callie had been turned down by a man and it had stung.

Having to work closely with him in the intervening time had been fraught despite the professional detachment she practised so well. But given that they both specialised in neonatology, he was hard to avoid.

It had only been recently that she’d felt they’d moved beyond that dreaded night and slipped into an easier relationship.

The bidding stalled at eighteen hundred dollars. ‘Come now, ladies,’ the emcee implored. ‘Surely a handsome doctor who spends all his days saving tiny little babies’ lives is worth a little more?’

‘Two thousand five hundred.’

A ripple of excitement ran around the room and Callie craned her neck to see the woman who had made the clear, determined bid that had come from the left. She followed the direction everyone else was looking to find the bidder had risen to her feet—Natalie Alberts.

Tall, willowy, blonde and gorgeous, the New Zealand paediatric registrar, who’d been pursuing Cade from the moment he’d set foot in the hospital, looked like she was about to get her man.

Callie glanced at Cade as the emcee enthused, ‘That’s more like it!’

His toothpaste smile was still firmly in place but Callie, having been at the other end of one of his rejections, had intimate knowledge of that get-me-out-of-here look in his eyes.

Cade sighed inwardly as he forced his smile to widen and his body language to exude a but-of-course veneer. Who wouldn’t want to pay more than a lot of people earned in a month for the pleasure of his company?

Holy crap.

A few hours’ wining and dining a nice woman with a charitable heart was one thing. Spending those hours with someone who’d made no secret she wanted to marry him and have his babies? That had stalker nightmare written all over it.

He’d come to Australia to reinvent himself. To move away from the man he’d been in the past and the secret shame of it all. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to blow it by falling into his old womanising ways. He was here for his career—not female companionship!

‘Do I have an advance on two and half thousand, ladies?’

Callie felt distinctly sorry for him. He’d gone from basking in the attention to a forced smile and a guarded look in his eyes that she doubted many could read. But as someone who avoided dates at all costs, Callie could easily interpret it.

He’d rather swallow the contents of a poisoned chalice than go on a date with the gorgeous Kiwi.

Or maybe that was just a date with any woman in possession of such robust predatory intent. It could certainly threaten his stringently single status.

‘I have two and half,’ the emcee called. ‘Going once.’

Callie watched as Cade ran a finger along the inside of his collar and stretched his neck from side to side—his smile still firmly plastered in place.

‘Going twice.’ The muscle at the angle of his jaw tightened.

‘Two thousand six.’

It was only when all eyes swivelled to Callie that she realised she’d even uttered a word. But apparently she’d done more than that. Not only was she also on her feet but she’d actually upped the ante.

Natalie’s gaze narrowed and speared right through Callie’s chest. ‘Three thousand,’ she said, glaring with particular vehemence before turning to look triumphantly at the emcee.

‘Ah, that’s more like it.’ The emcee clapped as she looked expectantly at Callie.

Oh, bloody hell. Callie glanced at Cade, expecting to see an even bigger look of dread in his gaze, but to say his relief was palpable was an understatement. He smiled at her—a genuinely huge grin—and everything inside her turned to water.

‘Any further advance?’ the emcee asked, looking directly at Callie.

Cade kicked up an eyebrow and the smile warming his brown eyes caused her pulse to do a strange jitterbug inside her chest. That damned eyebrow told her the ball was in her court.

Callie sighed, resigning herself to keep going. But he sure as hell owed her big-time!

‘Three thousand and one.’ Callie nodded.

‘Two,’ Natalie immediately shot back.

‘Three.’

‘Five hundred,’ the determined blonde countered.

‘Six.’

Callie didn’t take her eyes off Cade the entire time. He’d relaxed now, his head bobbing back and forth between his two bidders as if he were sitting at centre court during the Australian Open.

‘Seven.’

Callie gritted her teeth. ‘Eight.’

Natalie’s strong, clear ‘Four thousand’ caused a few little gasps around the room.

‘Four and a half,’ Callie returned.

‘Five!’

More gasps as the emcee said to Cade, ‘Well, now, Dr Coleman, this is getting interesting.’

Cade grinned and drawled, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ And Callie swore she could hear the sound of cells sighing as every female in the room leaned in a little closer.

Callie all but rolled her eyes. Cade was enjoying himself, getting a little too smug now for his own good, and a part of her just wanted to drop him right in it and leave him in the clutches of Natalie. After all, had he helped her out when she’d needed someone to scratch an itch not so long ago?

Nope.

He’d politely rejected her. And that itch was still there. If anything, Cade and his bloody tuxedo had intensified it. So quite why she was helping him out she had no idea.

A modicum of humility might not go astray.

‘Do we have an advance on five thousand?’

Aware of the expectancy pushing in around her, Callie’s gaze flicked to the excitable emcee, who was looking directly at her as she bounced on her toes and shuffled from foot to foot like a toddler with an urgent toilet problem. She glanced sideways at a very hostile Natalie before returning to Dr Full-Of-Himself.

She didn’t say anything, just met his gaze and let the seconds tick by. ‘Very well,’ the emcee said. ‘If there are no more bids…’

Callie folded her arms. The room fell silent, as if holding its breath.

‘Going once at five thousand dollars.’

Cade’s pulse spiked on a surge of adrenaline as Callie ignored the emcee’s call for further bids. He knew that the striking redhead didn’t owe him anything. Certainly, after he’d rejected her advances—which had been damn hard when she’d fit just right against his body—she didn’t owe him salvation.

Then why bid in the first place?

She couldn’t let him glimpse a way out and not follow through, surely?

‘Going twice.’

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She quirked a sexy arched eyebrow at him.

She wouldn’t, would she?

Cade swallowed and reached for his collar, the stage lights suddenly hot again on his skin. Please, he implored with his eyes.

Please.

He wished he could speak. Tell her he’d pay her back—every cent. It would be worth the ridiculous amount of cash to keep Natalie’s particular brand of desperation out of his life. She was a nice woman and a competent doctor but she just wasn’t for him—no woman was—and encouraging her in any way, shape or form was asking for trouble.

Callie saw the moment his bravado faltered and uncertainty once again ruled his gaze. Humility. Atta boy.

‘Five one,’ she said, as the emcee opened her mouth again and raised her gavel.

The crowd was too busy gasping and murmuring to notice Cade’s ever-so-slight shoulder sag and the relaxing of his jaw, but Callie did. Their gazes met and the I owe you in his eyes was clear.

So, she hoped, was the damn right in hers.

‘Miss?’

The emcee was addressing Natalie, and Callie, along with the rest of the ballroom, looked at the willowy blonde with bated breath. A cold blast of hostility lobbed her way as Natalie’s mouth tightened. She shook her head at the emcee, conceding defeat, and Callie admired her restraint. Someone who set a limit and stuck to it had ironclad impulse control.

It wasn’t something she’d ever been known for—her rash propositioning of Cade being one good case in point. Tonight was an even better one! She hadn’t even planned to bid and now she was out of pocket five grand.

Cade Coleman owed her for sure!

With no other bidders the auction wrapped up quickly and the entire ballroom stood and clapped as Cade sauntered off the stage and headed for Callie. When he got to her table he reached for her hand and kissed it in a very European manner.

Callie couldn’t deny, as his lips brushed her knuckles, how very Prince Charming it was.

‘Thank you,’ he said over the noise of their applauding audience, a camera flash or two adding to a Hollywood feel. ‘I am in your debt.’

Callie gave him a half smile but kept her tone brisk. ‘You have no idea.’

He grinned as the band struck up a number and the clapping eased. ‘How about we discuss that a little further on the dance floor?’

Their hands still clasped, Callie glanced over at the rapidly filling space. There wouldn’t be a lot of room to move out there. She wasn’t keen to revisit the memories of the last time she’d suggested they dance or whatever, in particular the rather humiliating way it had ended. ‘Do you think that’s such a good idea after last time?’

‘I think we’re a little past that now, aren’t we?’

Were they? Callie could easily recall the embarrassment even if he couldn’t. Maybe he was so used to women coming on to him they all just melded into one. But he was right. They’d worked together since then and had slowly moved into friendlier territory. Hell, they lived on the same floor of the same apartment complex.

Clearly, he wasn’t holding that night against her so why should she?

Plus, they were both adults. No matter how persistent that itch had become beneath the touch of his lips and the nearness of his broad male frame.

She inclined her head, conscious of their audience. ‘One dance,’ she murmured.

Cade put his hand on her back as he ushered her past tables and through the milling crowd onto the dance floor. He resolutely ignored the way her clingy, emerald-green dress dipped low at the back and how her rich Titian hair, piled high in a curly mass on her head, exposed her nape and the fascinating indentations of her spine.

They took up position towards the outside and, as the song was slow, he slid one hand onto her waist and the other captured hers. They didn’t speak and she stared resolutely over his shoulder at some point behind him, but he was conscious of the curve of her hip, the shift of her body beneath his palm and the heady aroma of frangipani as they moved together.

Someone jostled them from behind and his hand automatically slid to the small of her back as their bodies moved a little closer to accommodate the restricted space. Her hair brushed his cheek, as soft as a petal and, as something primal stirred in the vicinity of his groin, Cade was suddenly conscious of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.

Of how much he missed it.

The Sophie debacle had sent him packing both physically and emotionally as he’d fled first to the opposite side of the USA and then the opposite side of the world. And he’d convinced himself that he was done with women and dating.

That his career came first.

Yet one dance with Callie Richards was making a mockery of all that.

‘I’ll write you a cheque first thing in the morning,’ he said, suddenly uncomfortable about owing her anything.

Callie’s eyes fluttered closed as his breath stirred the hair at her temple and his accent slithered down her spine and tingled where his palm held her fast. She pulled back slightly until she was looking into his eyes. Light brown with tawny flecks. Like amber. Like whisky.

‘You think I can’t afford five grand?’ she challenged.

Cade’s gaze was drawn briefly to the way the subdued light from the magnificent overhead chandeliers glowed in the rich emerald of her eyes before being distracted by her mouth. Her lipstick was a deep scarlet and seemed to beckon with a simmering but subdued sexuality. ‘I didn’t say that.’

Callie shrugged. ‘It’s a damn good cause. I’d be a lousy representative of the hospital I work at and the unit I love if I didn’t show my support in some way.’

‘Five thousand bucks is a little extreme,’ Cade said dryly.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Callie said, settling back to peer over his shoulder again as his raw masculine scent found its way past her usually impenetrable veneer. ‘I’ll consider it my public service for the year. Plus, I’m thinking it might be good to have you in my debt.’

Cade grimaced as her hair brushed his cheek again. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’

Callie laughed at the dread in his voice. She didn’t like to give anyone control over her life, either. A disastrous teenage marriage had taught her that. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as the occasional brush of Cade’s thighs caused her pulse to flutter, ‘I’ll wield my power wisely.’

Cade snorted—screw that. He’d avoided dating since his arrival in Australia, but obligation was to be avoided even more. ‘How about we just get it over and done with?’ he suggested. ‘You paid five thousand dollars to go out on a date with me so…let’s do it.’

Callie shut her eyes, trying to tune in to the music rather than the slow thick pounding of her pulse at his ‘let’s do it’. He didn’t mean it, and she had no desire to go out on a date with him. Mind-blowing, head-banging sex, sure, but he’d already made it perfectly clear that any horizontal recreation was off the table. And she just didn’t do the whole dating thing.

‘I don’t date,’ she said.

Cade frowned. ‘What do you mean, you don’t date?’ Wasn’t that what women wanted?

‘I don’t date,’ Callie repeated, as she once again pulled back to look at him. ‘Haven’t since my teens. I refuse to. Like you, it would seem.’

Cade wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d spent his entire adult life dating women as a way into their beds. And then done a complete about-turn and spent the last couple of months deflecting those who wanted nothing more than to score a date with him. Her lipstick glistened in the subtle light from above and he couldn’t believe a woman in possession of such a fine mouth didn’t enjoy many a date.

‘I’ve never met a woman who didn’t date. Or who didn’t want to, anyway.’

‘Oh, is that only a male prerogative in the good old US of A?’ Callie enquired sweetly. ‘I think you’re meeting entirely the wrong type of woman,’ she continued. ‘I’m honoured to be your first.’

She smiled at him and Cade’s loins heated at the deliberately provocative language coming from that sexy painted mouth. ‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t like to indulge in pleasant social discourse with the opposite sex?’

‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t?’ she countered. Her reasons were her own and not up for discussion. As she suspected his were.

Cade gave a half smile. He’d never been told so politely to mind his own business. ‘Touché,’ he murmured, and they swayed in silence for a moment or two before he said, ‘So you paid five grand for nothing?’ he clarified.

Callie shrugged. ‘Not necessarily. You never know when the need for a male escort might just pop up.’

‘Great,’ Cade grumbled, feigning his best insulted look. ‘Now I feel like a gigolo.’

‘Well, at least you’re the expensive kind.’

He blinked at her bald inference and then laughed. To his surprise she joined him and the light, throaty noise enveloped him in its sexy resonance. He’d heard her laugh before, of course—at work. She was always kidding around, when appropriate, with the staff on the NICU or the wards—particularly the male staff.

Oh, yes, she had great rapport with her male colleagues and she was resoundingly liked by them all. It was obvious she enjoyed being ‘one of the boys’. The blokey, slightly off-colour language and good-natured ribbing came easily to her.

She felt pretty easy in his arms, too, and her laughter reminded him again that it had been a long time since he’d allowed a woman inside his head.

‘It’s the accent, isn’t it?’ he said suddenly, a little miffed that the woman in his arms seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever. It might be all his conceited American arrogance, but women were always interested. ‘It’s too brash, right?’

Callie smiled. ‘Nope.’

‘But you don’t think it’s exotic and charming?’ he pressed.

Callie shrugged. ‘I prefer the British accent.’

‘Damn,’ Cade murmured. ‘That Hugh Grant has a lot to answer for.’ She laughed and it curled straight into his ear and brushed down the side of his neck. He thought a little more. ‘It’s that we work together?’

Callie sighed at his persistence. ‘Look…it’s not you. It’s not your accent or that we work together. I just prefer to…cut to the chase…with men.’

She looked at him, their gazes meshing. ‘I’m not looking for a husband or to cede control of my life to someone. I like sex,’ she said, figuring from what she knew of him that Cade would appreciate the direct approach. ‘I don’t need a candlelight dinner before or to snuggle afterwards. I’m busy with a career that pretty much takes over my whole life so I know what I want and how to ask for it. But you’ve already made it clear that you aren’t interested so…there’s no need to pretend.’

Suddenly Cade understood where Callie’s hesitancy to cash in her chips was coming from. ‘Ah, I get it. This is about me rejecting your advances that time.’

Callie frowned. ‘No. It’s not.’

‘Okay,’ he said, not believing her for a moment. But she had given him the perfect opportunity to clear the air over that. ‘About that…’

Callie shook her head. ‘No. Let’s not go there, please. It was a major error of judgement on my behalf and, as you’re probably aware, I don’t make errors of judgement. It was a weird night… . Weddings kind of do that to me. And I was a little tipsy.’

‘It’s okay,’ Cade said.

‘No. It’s really not,’ she insisted. ‘I embarrassed myself. And you. I still feel embarrassed about it. So if we could not talk about it now, or ever, preferably…’ Callie could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the second as she squirmed through her speech. Hell—was this song never going to end? ‘…that would be good.’

Cade ignored her. ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t find you attractive. I hope you don’t think that.’

Of course she’d thought that. She’d been tipsy and essentially alone in a sea of colleagues at a wedding—it had pushed all her buttons. His it’s-not-you-it’s-me had pretty much fallen on deaf ears.

She’d been mortified.

And rejected again by a man. A position she’d worked hard to avoid over the years. It had taken a long time to regain her sexual confidence after Joe but she had, and she’d wielded it ruthlessly. She took control sexually. She was in the driver’s seat. She said who, where, when and how often.

She knew a sure thing when she saw it—even through wine goggles. And every ounce of her female intuition had told her Cade Coleman had been a sure thing.

Right up until the second he’d politely declined.

‘Of course not,’ she lied.

‘It wasn’t,’ Cade repeated. Hell, Callie was put together just the way he liked. In fact, it was taking all his willpower not to lean in and taste that scarlet mouth. His hand tightened against the fabric over her lower back as things south of his navel stirred at the mere thought.

‘I’ve messed a lot of things up…back home,’ he conceded, even though he wasn’t quite sure why he was telling her or why it was important that she know his rejection of her come-on hadn’t been about her.

Callie nodded. ‘Alex said you’d had woman trouble.’

Cade paused. He kept forgetting that his stepbrother and Callie went way back. It was through their association he’d landed the job at Gold Coast City Hospital in the first place. He waited for her to say something else but she just swayed, waiting for him to continue.

He smiled and shook his head at her lack of curiosity—most women he knew would be digging in earnest to find out more about his ‘woman trouble’. The fact that she wasn’t only ramped up her appeal even further.

‘Yes,’ he said, dragging his head back into the conversation. Woman trouble was decidedly correct. ‘And so I’m here to start over. Concentrate on my career. Avoid the casual sex scene and romantic entanglements. To be honest, they were never very satisfying anyway, not in any real sense. Not the way my career…my patients are.’

Callie smiled at him realising for the first time what kindred spirits they were—like she and Alex. She was conscious of the fabric of his tux beneath her palm and she smoothed it, absently signalling her approval.

Cade grimaced. ‘That probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.’

‘Not at all,’ Callie murmured, her palm still smoothing along the line of his shoulder. ‘I think you and I speak the same language.’

‘We do?’

‘Sure. We live to work. And everything else is superfluous. That’s a good thing.’

He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Women don’t usually see it that way.’

Callie smiled. ‘I am not your usual woman.’

Cade was about to mutter ‘Damn right’ when the music faded to a close. Couples were parting and clapping and they followed suit.

She leaned in close and put her mouth to his ear as they left the dance floor. ‘But I’m still going to call in my debt one day.’

The brush of her lips and her warm breath arrowed straight to his groin and the stirring bloomed to full-blown arousal.




CHAPTER TWO (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)


CADE WAS STILL THINKING about her parting shot on Monday morning in his office when he received a page from the woman herself. He’d thought of little else over the course of the weekend and even now as he reached for his phone he found himself smiling.

He couldn’t remember anticipating anything this much in a long time. Certainly not a date!

He dialled the extension appearing on his pager screen, a zing in his veins. ‘I knew it wouldn’t take you long to crack,’ he said when she answered on the second ring. ‘I knew the accent would get you sooner rather than later.’

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, ‘Sorry, still on team Hugh.’

Cade grunted. ‘I could grow a floppy fringe?’

‘I thought you didn’t date, either?’

‘I don’t. But we have an outstanding transaction. It’s a pride thing.’

‘Ah…so it’s your ego talking. Poor Cade,’ she cooed. Cade laughed. ‘I’m sure my ego will survive.’

‘I’m sure it will, too,’ she quipped.

‘Was there a reason you paged me or is it your sole purpose in life to be disagreeable?’

Callie laughed in his ear and his body remembered vividly the havoc her laugh had wreaked on Saturday night. ‘I need a consult,’ she said. ‘I’m looking at a twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome and I want to give the parents all their options, including that new-fangled fetoscopy thing you do.’

Cade grinned at the faux reverence in her voice. ‘On my way.’

Five minutes later there was a knock on her door and Callie took a moment to mentally prepare herself before she said, ‘Come in.’

She was glad she did. Cade in a tux was a sight to behold. But Cade in a business shirt, stethoscope casually slung around his neck and his tie askew—utterly befitting the image of the dashing, maverick, prenatal surgeon—was tempting on a whole other level. He appealed to the doctor in her and, for Callie, that was way more dangerous than looking sexy in a suit.

‘Hey,’ he said.

His smile was open and friendly and his gaze was full of familiarity, and the sense of emotional danger she felt when he was around increased. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said. ‘Have a seat.’

And then she launched straight into her spiel because she suddenly realised that with Cade, everything she’d practised over the years was in peril. That smile could make her do something crazy, like throw every ounce of caution and control she’d ever exercised to the wind.

It could make her put her heart on the line for him. A man who was as reluctant to get involved and as burned by life as she was. Hadn’t her heart already suffered enough at the hands of a man who wasn’t capable of love?

No. She’d dodged a bullet when Cade had rejected her advances. Putting herself in front of the gun again was just plain stupid.

‘Kathy Street is a twenty-six-year-old multipara. She has three children under five and is now twenty-two weeks with her fourth pregnancy, identical twin boys.’

‘With a monochorionic placenta?’

‘Yes.’ Callie nodded. ‘She had a scan at twelve weeks, which diagnosed the twin pregnancy, and was supposed to have her standard nineteen-week ultrasound but missed it due to personal circumstances.’

Cade frowned. ‘Which were?’

‘The recent floods prevented her from making the nineteen-week scan. They live three hours west in a small farming community that was flooded in for two weeks and the last week they’ve been cleaning up and trying to get back on their feet. Yesterday was the first chance she had to get to the medical centre for the ultrasound, which is, by the way, an hour’s drive.

‘The GP was concerned she was large for dates, which Kathy had put down to carrying twins and the breathlessness and exhaustion she was feeling down to the stress and hard work of mopping up. But the ultrasound…’

Callie handed over the images that Kathy had brought with her.

‘It shows a larger twin with evidence of polyhydramnios and enlarged bladder and the smaller twin with next to no amniotic fluid or discernible bladder.’

Cade looked at the dramatic images. The larger twin, or the recipient twin as it was medically known, was sitting pretty in its over-filled sac while his brother, the donor twin, was practically shrink-wrapped inside his.

‘They were referred here immediately and travelled up last night.’ Callie turned to her computer and retrieved the data she was looking for. She swivelled the monitor round for Cade to see. ‘These are the images I took just now,’ she said.

Cade shifted forward but the angle and the light in the room made it difficult to see properly so he perched on the edge of her desk, letting his leg swing a little as he leaned in towards the screen.

As he watched he was thankful he worked in, and had had exposure to, the more advanced technology of a large modern hospital. Still images were fine but to be able to see the babies in action, so to speak, was much more helpful. Callie had been thorough with all her measurements and the colour Doppler flow study was particularly helpful.

Callie looked up at him. ‘I think she’s a good candidate for FPLT.’

‘Well, they’re obviously too young to deliver. Certainly fetoscopic placental laser therapy is an option but reduction amniocentesis would be a more conservative approach.’

Callie smiled. Cade Coleman was not known for his conservative approach to medicine or else he wouldn’t be blazing a trail in prenatal surgery, but it was good to know he wasn’t a cowboy, either.

‘Yes. But I think Kathy and Ray’s personal circumstances lend themselves much better to a one-off therapy like FPLT. You and I both know that removing the excess amniotic fluid from the recipient twin is a procedure that often needs to be done multiple times with associated risk of premature birth each time. Not to mention the need for stringent follow-up.

‘They don’t live close to a treatment centre, which would cause a lot of undue stress both physically and, I suspect, financially for them. And she’d need to be on bed rest for the remaining pregnancy. Kathy is not a bed rest kind of woman—she has three little kids and a farm that she helps run. We’d have to admit her for the rest of her pregnancy to ensure that.’

‘She’ll still need to rest after laser therapy.’

‘I know,’ Callie agreed, tapping her pen absently against the wooden desktop. ‘But if she’s non-compliant or poorly compliant, at least the basic cause has been dealt with.’

Callie had grown up around women like Kathy—they worked hard from sun-up to sundown. Rest was something people in the city did.

‘I think she’d be much happier having weekly follow-up ultrasounds locally than stuck in a city hospital, worrying about how her hubby is coping with the kids and the farm.’

She put down her pen and stared at him for a moment. She didn’t think she’d have to work this hard to convince Cade Coleman, of all people!

‘It has the best outcomes for both twins over any other treatment,’ she said. ‘Prior to your arrival, Kathy and Ray would have to have travelled to Sydney for this.’

He grinned. ‘You know you’re preaching to the converted, right?’

Callie shot him an exasperated glare. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ she said, standing up. ‘Let’s go and talk to them.’

He followed her through an interconnecting door to the next room, where a couple sat quietly holding hands. After the introductions were over, Callie gave them a reassuring smile.

‘You’ve both had a lot to take in this morning,’ she said. ‘Before I get on to treatment options, have you got any questions about the actual condition?’

Kathy’s husband, Ray, nodded. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, it’s all a little overwhelming. Did you say that the twins are sharing the same blood supply through the placenta?’

Callie smiled again encouragingly. ‘Kind of,’ she said. It was often hard for laypeople to understand complex medical conditions and part of Callie’s job was helping them to understand. If that meant she had to go over and over the information again, that’s what she did.

‘Your twins share the same placenta—that’s common for identical twins. Usually in this scenario each twin has its own separate connection to the placenta via its umbilical cord, but in TTTS the placenta contains abnormal blood vessels, which connect the umbilical cords and circulations of the twins.’

Callie paused to check that Kathy and Ray were following. She glanced at Cade, indicating for him to jump in. ‘So essentially,’ Cade said, ‘blood from one twin is transfused into the other twin.’

‘That’s the donor twin, right?’ Kathy said. ‘The recipient is the twin who gets the transfusion?’

Callie nodded. ‘That’s right. The recipient twin has a lot of extra stress put on its heart because of the extra fluid. Also the kidneys produce a lot of urine to try and remove some of the excess fluid, which leads to a build-up of amniotic fluid. That’s what I showed you on the scan earlier.’

‘That’s why I’m so big,’ Kathy stated.

‘Yes,’ Cade confirmed. ‘It’s called polyhydramnios. But the donor baby has hardly any amniotic fluid because it’s donating all its blood to its sibling and therefore producing hardly any urine. The donor twin also becomes quite anaemic.’

Cade paused, too, for a moment, glancing at Callie. Ray and Kathy seemed to have grasped the basics. They looked shaken but, from what he’d gleaned already about people from ‘the bush’, as they called it here, also stoic. Something that was confirmed a moment later when Ray cut straight to the chase.

‘Okay. So how do we fix it?’

Callie ran down the rather short list of options from doing nothing, which would almost certainly lead to the death of one if not both twins, to bed rest and nutrition to treating the symptoms with serial reduction amniocentesis and stringent monitoring.

‘There is one more option,’ she said. ‘I’ve asked Dr Coleman here because he offers a one-off treatment that is curative.’

Ray frowned. ‘So let’s do that.’

Cade looked at Callie and she nodded for him to continue. ‘Well, it is a little out there for a lot of people. It’s called fetoscopic placental laser therapy and involves me operating on the placenta while your twins are still in utero.’

Ray looked shocked. Kathy said, ‘You can do that?’

‘Can and have,’ Cade confirmed. ‘You are the first TTTS case I’ve seen since coming to Australia a couple of months ago but I have performed this procedure over a dozen times in the States.’

Cade went on to explain what exactly the operation entailed. He talked about the high operative and twin survival success rates and ran through the benefits as well as the potential complications—from having to repeat the procedure on rare occasions because all the aberrant vessels hadn’t been destroyed to inducing labour and the subsequent complications to do with premature babies.

He was thorough, answering their questions as he went along, and Callie couldn’t help being both pleased and impressed. Invading the safe, sterile world of the uterus was cutting-edge stuff but it should never be taken lightly or dived into willy-nilly.

‘You’ll probably want some time to discuss it,’ Callie said when Cade’s spiel had come to an end and the questions seemed to have been exhausted. ‘Why don’t you guys go down to the coffee shop and figure out which option you want to go with?’

Ray nodded. ‘If we decided to go ahead with the laser thing,’ he said, addressing Cade, ‘how soon can you do it?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Cade said. Prenatal surgery was rare so there wasn’t exactly a waiting list. ‘We’ll admit Kathy straight away, run some more tests and I’ll get a team together. Not sure if it’ll be in the morning or the afternoon yet.’

‘Okay, thanks,’ Ray said. He stood, helping Kathy to her feet, then reached out and offered his hand to Cade. ‘Thanks, Doc.’ He nodded at Callie. ‘You’ll hear from us shortly.’

Callie reached into her trouser pocket and handed them a card. ‘Page me on this number whenever you want.’

Callie watched as Ray opened the door and ushered Kathy through it. ‘You reckon they’ll go for it?’ she asked Cade as the door shut behind the Streets.

‘They seem like really practical people, so I think they will.’ He looked at Callie. Her gorgeous red hair was constrained in a high ponytail today and in the daylight her green eyes dazzled. ‘You wanna assist tomorrow if they do? I’m going to need another set of hands in case I have to deliver twins.’

Callie grinned. Standing next to Cade while he saved two little tiny lives had danger to her peace of mind written all over it, but it wasn’t something she wanted to miss, either.

‘Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.’

Which was why the next morning she was standing in her scrubs and theatre clogs, her hair contained in a blue cap, a mask covering her nose and mouth, eagerly watching the monitor as Cade advanced the fetoscope through the amniotic sac of the recipient twin—Joshua—towards the connecting vessels on the surface of the placenta. It was a strange and beautiful underwater world, like in footage she’d once seen of a sunken galleon, and she held her breath as a little hand was illuminated by the beam of light shining from the end of the scope.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Cade murmured.

Callie, standing opposite with her arms folded, her body turned to face the monitor, glanced at him and recognised the same sense of awe that was bubbling inside her. ‘Amazing,’ she agreed, her gaze straying immediately back to the screen.

Cade watched her for a moment longer. With the mask firmly in situ, hiding the classic features of her face, he had no idea what colour lipstick she was wearing or if, indeed, she was wearing any. Instead, he’d found something equally captivating: her eyes.

The mask isolated and emphasised the flecks of turquoise amidst the green of her irises. He hadn’t noticed them before and he couldn’t think why. He guessed his determination to concentrate on his career was paying off if he’d missed the fascinating hue of Callie’s eyes.

He was obviously getting good at it.

So, why, suddenly, was that such a depressing thought?

He turned back to concentrate on the job at hand—on Kathy, anesthetised and depending on him, on her babies, on locating the problem vessels.

‘Laser, please.’

The scrub nurse handed him the fibre and he threaded it down through the same sheath the scope was using, without taking his eyes off the visual on the screen. Once the laser was in place he set about coagulating the aberrant blood supply, running the beam along the length of the vessels and obliterating them for good.

It didn’t take long and he was satisfied when he was finished that the procedure had been curative. ‘That ought to do it,’ he announced, as he withdrew the fibre.

Callie glanced at him and her eyes shone with excitement—like they needed any extra enhancement! ‘Well done! You going to take some of that amniotic fluid while you’re in there?’

He nodded. ‘Yep. Looks like I’ve got a good couple of litres I can relieve Joshua and his mother of.’

In the end Cade withdrew one and a half litres before declaring himself satisfied. Kathy would feel an immediate difference in the tightness of her belly and her breathlessness, and Joshua’s heart and kidneys would not have to work as hard. Andrew, his twin, also now had a chance to develop normally.

And as the cherry on top, Callie was looking at him like he hung the moon.

And all-round great result.

Kathy and Ray thought so, too, when four days down the track she was ready for discharge. The twins were doing well, no complications had developed and they were thrilled to be heading home with weekly follow-up from their local medical centre.

‘Thank you so much,’ Kathy said to Callie as Ray zipped up her bag. ‘You saved our boys’ lives.’

Callie laughed. ‘I think Dr Coleman deserves those accolades.’ She’d only seen Cade on and off briefly over the intervening days, which was just as well because she was fast developing a crush on his medical prowess.

As if his body wasn’t bad enough!

‘We both do,’ a deep voice rocking a sexy accent said from behind her.

Kathy laughed as Callie turned. ‘See, Cade agrees with me.’

Callie’s stomach went into free fall at the sight of Cade lounging in the doorway. His business shirt was rolled up at the elbows, his tie knot loosened, somehow making him look more wicked frat boy than a skilled prenatal surgeon. ‘Cade,’ Callie said, turning back to face Kathy for the sake of her sanity, ‘is being too kind.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said, and Callie didn’t need to look around to know he was closing in—she could sense it. ‘You put the twins’ interests first and sought the most cutting-edge treatment option available. That’s gutsy. Trust me, a lot of doctors out there rank voodoo higher than what I do.’

His sleeve brushed hers as he drew level and Callie’s stomach looped the loop.

Ray stuck out his hand and Cade shook it as he said, ‘Voodoo or not, we owe both of you.’

‘Just remember,’ Callie said. ‘Weekly ultrasounds are vital. Vital. A good diet and rest, too. You’re at a higher risk of premature birth so you really do need to take it a little easy.’

‘I will,’ Kathy promised.

‘Ray?’ Callie said, addressing him. ‘You and I both know that Kathy wouldn’t know how to take it easy if it came up and bit her on the backside so I’m relying on you to police it, okay? It’s very important.’

‘Hey,’ Kathy objected good-naturedly.

Ray nodded, ignoring his wife. ‘No worries, Doc.’

‘Is she always like this?’ Kathy grumbled to Cade.

Cade looked at Callie speculatively. Who knew? He knew she was a consummate professional. He knew she was an excellent neonatal specialist. He knew she wasn’t afraid to take a risk.

But he hadn’t stuck around long enough in any of his dealings with her in the past to know what her bedside manner was like. To know that she fussed over her patients—and not just the babies.

Who’d have thought that beneath her busy, professional exterior she was a bit of a softie?

‘Only with those who don’t obey my rules,’ Callie jumped in, not wanting to hear whatever answer Cade was cooking up in his brain. Talking about her like she wasn’t here was just too intimate somehow and she’d already been forced into enough intimacy with him this week, thanks to this case.

Sure, they’d worked on cases before—the occasional consult—but this one felt more personal. Was it timing, landing so soon in her lap after the fundraiser and her five-thousand-dollar bid? Or the excitement and professional milestones involved? Or was it the rapport they’d both built with Kathy and Ray as they’d worked together in the fight for their twins’ lives?

‘You must be ready to knock off,’ Kathy said, changing the subject. ‘Please tell me you guys swan off to glamorous city nightclubs on the weekend, dancing and drinking fancy cocktails until the sun comes up.’

‘Don’t answer her.’ Ray smiled. ‘She’s just trying to live vicariously.’

Kathy stuck her tongue out at her husband. ‘Spoilsport. Do you know how long it’s been since I had a cocktail or danced till dawn?’

Callie laughed at the note of longing in Kathy’s voice but couldn’t help but notice the protective way she cradled her belly. ‘I hate to break it to you but a glass of red wine and an early night is about as exciting as it gets.’

‘Yep,’ Cade confirmed, ‘hitting the beach is about it for me.’

Although he did have a sudden hankering for Shiraz.

When Callie’s foot hit the still-warm sand a couple of hours later she told herself it was about getting some fresh air. Just because she didn’t often come to the beach it didn’t mean she couldn’t. She had felt restless after work and when the ocean was a stone’s throw away it had seemed stupid not to take advantage of it.

Not that she wanted to swim. But a walk was a healthy outlet for her restlessness and if she should happen to bump into Cade in his boardies—all wet and clingy—well, that wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy.

With a good hour before the sun would even begin to fade from the sky, Callie slogged through the thick, softer sand, heading straight for the shoreline where it was easier to navigate. The patrolled area of the beachfront was relatively busy and she dodged groups of teenagers whooping it up in thank-god-it’s-friday jubilation and holidaying families taking advantage of the damaging Australian sun finally losing its sting.

The tide was on its way back in as Callie set out, walking away from the impressive Surfers Paradise skyline behind her. A brisk wind picked up her hair and she was pleased she’d pulled it into a loose, low ponytail. The way strands had already tugged free and whipped across her face didn’t bode well for the state it would be in when she got back to her apartment.

She kept her eyes fixed on the choppy ocean as the crowds thinned out. An occasional jogger passed her but other than that it was just her footprints in the sand before the ocean quickly erased them. Water occasionally licked at her ankles and splashed up her legs and she pulled the skirt of her strapless black sundress up a little, anchoring it into the elastic sides of her underwear to try and keep the hem dry.

The number of people swimming lessened as she moved farther away from the flagged area and Callie couldn’t help but feel concern for those who were swimming outside the boundaries of what the professionals considered safe. The Gold Coast was known for its fabulous beaches and magnificent surf, which was one of the advantages of working at the GCCH—killer views from every floor. But it was also notorious for its dangerous rips and all-too-frequent drownings.

The last thing she wanted to do on her relaxing walk was to have to pull someone out of the ocean half-dead.

Realising she was thinking like a doctor rather than enjoying the ambience, Callie, reined in her thoughts.

Beach. Zen. Bliss.

Relaxing.

No NICU. No sick twins. No work for two whole days. No on-call, either.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

That worked well for a few seconds until the form of the jogger heading in her direction became clearer and she realised it was a shirtless Cade. That’s when she forgot the breathing-in bit for a moment or two until the words ‘Oh, hell’ fell from her lips of their own volition and things returned to their normal function.

Sort of.

What a fool she’d been to think he looked better in his scrubs than a tux. Clearly, his birthday suit was going to win hands down when it came to things Cade looked good in. Certainly if the top half was anything to go by!

He recognised her at about the same time she recognised him and he gave a surprised smile and a half wave as he continued to pound towards her. She slowed her pace as his tanned, nicely muscled chest swayed closer into her line of sight with every movement of his body.

Her gaze dropped lower, following the fascinating trail of hair that arrowed down, bisecting the ridges of his abdomen before disappearing beneath the band of shorts that rode very low on his hips.

She stopped as Cade pulled up in front of her and said, ‘Hey.’

Sweat beaded on his forehead but he didn’t even have the decency to be too out of breath or smell sweaty. In fact, her nostrils flared as salt and sand and sea mixed with Cade’s earthy male fragrance. A wave swamped her ankles and she didn’t even notice until he grabbed her elbow and pulled her higher up the beach.

‘You jog,’ she said, dragging her gaze to his face, where a slight shadow darkened his jaw. ‘I thought Americans preferred the gym.’

Cade laughed at the stereotyping. ‘I used a gym in New York because it’s a bit far to the beach. But in L.A. I used to jog on the beach all the time.’ He stuck out a leg and bent at the waist, performing a stretch now that he’d stopped running so abruptly.

‘I have to say, though, I’m a little disappointed. I thought Australians were supposed to have kangaroos on their beaches. I haven’t seen one yet.’

Callie frowned for a moment before realising he was calling her on her gym quip. ‘Funny,’ she said.

He stood and grinned. ‘So, are you swimming?’ he asked.

‘Oh, no.’ Callie shook her head. ‘I don’t swim in the ocean.’

Cade raised an eyebrow. ‘Why not?’

‘I like to be able to see what’s swimming around with me.’

‘Ah, you’re scared of being taken by a shark.’

Given that sharks were just one of the hazards in Australian oceans, her fears were more varied than that, but it would do for the purposes of this explanation.

‘Pretty much.’

‘You know that’s really rare, right? Sharks are much more frightened of us. Statistically very few people worldwide die from shark attacks.’

Callie gave him a bald look. ‘I come from a small country town. It’s a four-hour drive to the nearest beach. Statistically no one’s ever died from a shark attack where I’m from. I’d like to keep it that way.’

Cade laughed. ‘Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing.’

‘Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to the sand, if you don’t mind.’

Callie’s mobile rang and she fished it out from where she’d stashed it in the cleavage of her strapless bra. Cade lifted an eyebrow at the action. ‘Didn’t want to bring a bag with me,’ she said, as she looked at the display. ‘Hell. It’s my mother. Hold on for a moment—it won’t take me long.’

Cade watched her as she walked away slightly and talked. The wind blew her skirt against her legs, outlining their athletic length, the elastic waist emphasising the curve where his hand had rested the other night as they’d danced, and the strapless top showed off the beautiful curves of her shoulders and collarbones and outlined the thrust of her breasts. Hair had escaped from her ponytail and was blowing across her face, which was free of make-up.

So this was casual Callie. He’d seen her around the apartment building, but only either coming home from or going to work. Other than that he’d seen her in a stunning green dress.

He had to wonder how she’d fill out a pair of blue jeans.

Or his sheets, for that matter.

Callie ended the phone call quickly and he watched as she stuffed the phone back where she’d pulled it from and felt about fifteen years old when his belly clenched at the glimpse of cleavage.

‘What are you doing on Sunday night?’ she asked, as she walked towards him.

Cade blinked at the unexpected question. She looked harried and he had a feeling he knew where this was going. ‘Going on that date with you?’

She nodded grimly. ‘Good answer.’

‘Your mum?’

‘My parents. They’re passing through on their way to visit my uncle up on the cape.’

It wasn’t exactly how Cade had pictured she’d call in her debt, and dinner with the parents had been something he’d spent a lifetime avoiding. But this was purely a business transaction. ‘Where are we going? What should I wear and who do you want me to be?’

Callie stared at him blankly. She loved her parents but they’d never understood why she’d moved away from home or why she hadn’t tried harder to make her marriage work. An evening of recriminations wasn’t her idea of fun. Cade would be a good buffer. And something else for them to talk about other than her and Joe.

‘Don’t know. Don’t care. And just…be yourself. I’ll let you know the details on Sunday.’

Cade nodded. ‘I can do that.’

‘Right, well, I’m going to head home,’ she said. God knew, she could do with that drink now.

‘Sure I can’t tempt you to come in?’ Cade said, nodding at the surf.

Callie was sure he could tempt her to do almost anything but she knew how she dealt with uncertainty and the feeling that her life was spinning out of control.

Sex. And she couldn’t take another rejection right now.

‘Nope. I’m fine.’

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, saluting her as he headed for the water.

‘Wait,’ Callie said. ‘You’re not supposed to swim here,’ she said. ‘You’re supposed to swim between the flags.’

Cade grinned. ‘You’re not much of a rule-breaker, are you?’ he said, before running the rest of the way into the sea and disappearing into a wave.

Callie waited for his head to bob up before she moved on in case her non-rule-breaking self needed to pull him out of the ocean when a rip chewed him up and spat him out.

She still needed that date on Sunday night, after all.

His head bobbed up and she relaxed. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he called out.

She glanced at his chest. Oh, she knew all right.




CHAPTER THREE (#u592084ef-6f73-5b50-b031-87fa0e167af1)


CADE GOT HIS WISH on Sunday night when he knocked on Callie’s door and she stepped out in a pair of faded denim jeans that hugged her butt, legs and hips to perfection. She wore a dark purple blouse that was firm around her breasts and rode low on her cleavage but was loose around her torso, the hem fluttering to her waist. Her hair was down, framing her face and falling lightly on her shoulders.

Dark kohl and mascara highlighted those amazing eyes and a touch of gloss on her mouth made sure he’d be looking nowhere else.

He gave a low whistle and she laughed but it sounded strained and didn’t reach her eyes. ‘And to think you passed this up,’ she quipped, as she pulled her door closed and brushed past him.

‘Can I renege?’ he teased as he followed her. The swing of her denim-covered buttocks was a thing of beauty.

‘Nope. You blew it,’ she said. ‘And now you’ll always wonder.’

Cade grinned. Well, she was definitely right about that. Although, to be fair, he’d spent a lot of time wondering before tonight, as well.

They travelled down in the lift to the underground car park in companionable silence and it wasn’t until they were on the road that either of them spoke again.

‘Getting used to driving on the left?’ Callie asked.

When he’d offered to drive to the restaurant she’d agreed. Tonight was probably going to require a degree of alcoholic fortification just to get through it, so having a designated driver was one less thing to worry about.

Cade nodded. ‘Yep. Only driven down the wrong side a few times.’

Callie blanched. ‘A few times?’

He shrugged. ‘It was back at the beginning.’

‘Well, your car seems to have escaped unscathed.’

‘Yep.’ He smiled, stroking the sports steering wheel of the sleek RX8. ‘No harm done.’

She looked appreciatively around the interior of his car, which still had that new smell. ‘Just as well,’ she murmured.

‘You like?’

Callie looked at him. She liked everything she saw. Everything. Cade was looking whistle-worthy tonight in his blue jeans and trendy T-shirt. ‘Very nice. The RX8 is a great vehicle. Great torque.’

‘Ah, a woman who knows cars and looks good in jeans,’ he teased. ‘I may just have hit the jackpot.’

Callie smiled, ignoring his flirty tone. Cade obviously felt safe with her, knowing there was no romantic intent behind their date. His wolf-whistle and his flirty lines were probably just backed up from months out of the dating scene. She wasn’t about to let any of it go to her head.

‘I prefer retro myself,’ she said. ‘I have a shiny red Alpha Spider. It’s twenty years old but still looks amazing and runs like a dream.’

‘Well, now, I’m gonna have to go for a spin in that some time.’

‘I’m sure it can be arranged,’ Callie said.

There was another minute’s silence as Cade negotiated some traffic. When he’d turned onto the main road he flicked her a glance. ‘So, anything I need to know?’

Callie startled at the question, her pulse speeding up as she thought about all the things no one knew. And never would.

She understood he didn’t want to put his foot in it on their ‘date’ but there were some things that were best left in the past. And that included her disastrous marriage. Her mother, who was still deeply mortified by the divorce all these years later, certainly wouldn’t be bringing it up.

‘No.’

Cade kept his eyes on the road. ‘Well, how about the basics? Like where you’re from? At The beach you said you were from a small country town.’

Callie nodded, her heart rate settling. The basics she could cope with. ‘Yes. Broken Hill. It’s in far western New South Wales, about a ten-hour drive from Sydney.’

‘That’s a mining town, isn’t it? That’s where BHP originated?’

Callie nodded, impressed by his knowledge. Although Cade looked like someone who knew the stock market and BHP shares were as blue ribbon as they came. ‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘So your dad…He’s a miner?’

‘Yep. As was his dad before him and his before him. As are my three older brothers.’

Three brothers? That certainly explained why she got on so well with her male colleagues—but Cade would have bet that Callie was an only child. There was a distance she put around herself that he understood. Alex had always had it. ‘And your mother?’

Callie thought about all the things she wanted to say about her mother but wouldn’t. She looked out the window. ‘She’s a housewife.’

Cade thought he heard disapproval. He approached his next query gently. ‘If you don’t mind an observation,’ he said, pausing as he searched for the right way to say what he needed to say. ‘I get the impression that you and your mother don’t really…get on? Is there something I should know there?’

Callie almost laughed at the understatement but she felt too brittle. Like she might just snap in two if she let even the smallest laugh pass her lips.

‘No. It’s fine,’ she said, turning her head to look at him. ‘We get on. I love her. I love them both.’

‘Okay…’

Callie knew from Alex that Cade’s childhood hadn’t exactly been a picnic, so she felt she was being trivial even talking about the topic. She’d had a family who loved her, a roof over her head, food in her stomach and a small-town network that looked after their own.

Much more than Cade and Alex had ever known.

‘They just weren’t very encouraging or supportive of my…choices, that’s all. They never said to me, “Girl, you’ve got a brain in your head, you need to go to university”. They wanted me to stay in Broken Hill. Get married. Have children.’

All the things she’d wanted, too. Wanted with all the zeal and passion of a silly seventeen-year-old desperately in love with her high-school sweetheart.

But nothing had ever prepared her for what had happened after the big white wedding. She’d never known her coveted white picket fence could become a lonely prison, trapping her inside, too confused and inexperienced to know how to fix it.

‘So…you left to do medicine and that caused a rift?’

Callie almost laughed out loud at the abbreviated version of the worst couple years of her life. ‘Yes,’ she said, as she turned her head to look out the window again.

Her brevity spoke volumes and Cade didn’t have to be psychic to know that Callie didn’t want to talk about it. Something he understood intimately. But he also understood family breakdown and estrangement, and from what little she’d told him she didn’t have a lot to complain about.

‘They must be proud of you, though,’ he probed. What he’d have given to have heard his father say, I’m proud of you.

‘They are, I guess, in their own way. They just…don’t understand me.’

Irritation spiked in Cade’s bloodstream. Having grown up in a completely dysfunctional household himself, he didn’t think Callie realised how lucky she was to have not just two parents who loved her but the support of an entire community. And if this had been a real date he’d have shut his mouth and thought of the pay-off at the end of the night.

But as this night wasn’t going to end up between the sheets maybe it wouldn’t hurt for Callie to have a reality check. ‘Some people would say you’ve had it pretty good.’

Callie looked back at the terse note in his voice, which made his accent clipped. His profile was hostile, his jaw set into a rigid line. ‘I’m sorry, Cade,’ she said, reaching her hand out and placing it on his forearm. Even it felt tense beneath her fingers. ‘I know things were…rough for you growing up. I do know how good I had it.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘Just ignore my whiny little princess act.’

Cade looked briefly down at her hand, warm on his arm. She knew things were rough? What exactly had Alex told her? Alex, who was even more tight-lipped about their past than he was.

Just how close had his brother been to Callie?

‘There it is,’ she said, yanking him back from the hiss and bubble of troubling questions that swirled in his brain. She removed her hand and pointed to the beachside restaurant and Cade flicked on the indicator and turned into the car park.

Callie was nervous as she walked into the restaurant. Apart from semi-regular phone calls, it had been three years since she’d seen her parents. She’d gone back to Broken Hill for Christmas and had stuck out like a sore thumb next to her blissfully married brothers with their perfect wives and multiple children.

It had driven her nuts that she was a highly successful neonatal specialist, at the top of her field, but somehow she’d felt like the family failure. The black sheep. And the ‘when are you going to get married and have some kids of your own?’ questions just hadn’t stopped. Seriously—was it that wrong not to want to be a baby machine?

Her parents hadn’t arrived yet and a waiter showed them to a table set against the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. A waiter who’d smiled very appreciatively at Callie after giving her a rather thorough once-over. Callie smiled back. She’d deliberately worn clothes that said ‘I’m a sexually confident woman’ because it was important for her to project that. God knew, a few hours in the company of her parents would certainly suck her back to a time when She hadn’t been.

A dark, painful time.

So she needed that. She needed the waiter flirting with her. And the two guys at the bar checking out her butt. Cade sure as hell wasn’t interested and tonight she needed to know she was attractive to men, that she was desired.

Because her parents were about to remind her of a time when she hadn’t been, and that always messed with her carefully constructed control.

Callie ordered a glass of red wine and Cade a light beer, which were promptly delivered by another waiter who looked at her with invitation in his eyes. Aware that Cade was watching, she let her gaze linger on the twenty-something for a moment before she turned to stare out the window. She took her first fortifying sip. Between the alcohol and sufficient male adoration she figured she could get through the evening.

The sun was setting but it was still light enough to see the whitecaps of the choppy ocean and the surf rolling in.

‘Great view,’ Cade said.

Callie dragged her gaze back inside. ‘Yes,’ she said, fiddling with the stem of her wineglass and then her cutlery. The waiting was killing her. She looked at Cade, desperate for a distraction. ‘You don’t look much like Alex,’ she said.

Cade felt the usual tension creep along his shoulders and crawl up his neck whenever talk turned too close to home. ‘That would be because we’re stepbrothers. Not blood relations. My father married his mother.’

‘Oh. Sorry. For some reason I always thought you were half-brothers.’

The less he said the better. ‘No.’

Callie nodded. ‘So it was your father who…?’ She trailed off, not knowing how to put it. Not knowing how Cade felt about it.

‘Used Alex as a punching bag?’ he supplied, the memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Callie refused to flinch at the harshness of his tone. ‘Yes.’

Cade’s reply was clipped. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘That couldn’t have been easy. Growing up like that.’

Cade snorted. That was an understatement. After Alex had been pushed to his limits and left, violence had given way to neglect as his father had drunk himself into a stupor. That’s when Cade had found solace and financial security in the bored, pampered women of Beverly Hills.

‘I’m curious about your relationship with Alex. Did you and he…?’

Callie kicked up an eyebrow. Did Cade seriously think she would kiss and tell? ‘We’re friends,’ she said firmly. Yes, they’d had a crazy one-night stand, but they’d realised fairly quickly it had been a mistake and that they were better friends than lovers.

And that was none of Cade’s damn business.

‘And that’s it?’ Cade frowned. ‘It’s just that…Alex is a very private person. I can’t begin to imagine him confiding in anybody about what happened to him…to us. He nearly lost Layla because he couldn’t open up to her.’

Callie shrugged. She and Alex had just clicked. Maybe it had been their turbulent pasts and their insistence on absolute privacy that had drawn them together and cemented their friendship. Maybe it had been their feisty, outspoken personalities. Maybe it had been their utter respect for each other’s professional abilities.

Or a combination of all of them.

But to this day she still spoke to him more than she did to her own family. And she missed him and his pragmatism more than she ever would have thought possible. She was happy that he’d found love with Layla. Genuinely happy.

‘He never said very much,’ she clarified. Neither had she. They just weren’t spleen-venting kind of people. But they’d opened up more to each other than they’d ever done with anyone else. ‘I learned more from what he didn’t say.’

‘He told you he was a victim of domestic violence,’ Cade said. ‘That’s big for him.’ He’d barely even spoken to Cade about it, even though Cade had witnessed it on too many occasions to count.

Callie shrugged. ‘I think he felt a certain sense of distance and…freedom on the other side of the world.’

Cade was about to push some more but he could see an older couple coming through the doors and hailing a passing waiter. The man had a shock of red hair and a big ginger-going-to-grey fuzzy beard. ‘I think they’re here,’ he said.

Callie turned, her pulse quickening. She waved at her parents and felt a familiar mix of emotions churning inside her. Love, affection, fondness, attachment.

Disappointment. Anger. Regret.

She turned to Cade. ‘Good to go?’ he asked. She nodded and he stood as Callie’s parents made their way over. Callie followed suit and then her mother hugged her followed by her father and she performed the introductions. Cade offered his chair to Callie’s mother so she and her husband could sit side by side, and then he joined Callie around her side of the table.

‘Well, that’s not a sight we see much back home,’ Duncan Richards said as he sat, nodding to the view out the window.

‘No, it’s quite something, isn’t it?’ Cade said.

‘So, you’re not from around these parts, then?’ Duncan asked, as the waiter handed out menus and another smile for Callie. Not that she noticed. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her, assessing her, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong in the rearing of her daughter.

Callie kept her eyes firmly fixed on the menu and let the men fill up the gaps about where Cade was from and the differences between the two countries. But she knew soon enough the conversation would get around to her and her life, and as soon as the waiter had taken their orders her mother dived in.

‘So how have you been, darling? It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen you. All your nieces and nephews are getting so big. You’re missing out on so much. And Anne-Marie is almost ready to pop with their fourth.’

Margaret Richards sent a strained smile Cade’s way before returning her gaze to Callie. ‘You’re obviously enjoying yourself in the big smoke. Tell me all about your fabulous career. How many babies have you delivered now?’

Cade would have had to be deaf not to hear the brittle emphasis on ‘fabulous’ and even though he had rebuked Callie earlier for her trivial complaints, he suddenly felt very sorry for her. Maybe it was worse to have someone who pretended they cared than someone who didn’t give a damn at all.

Beneath the table he slid his hand onto Callie’s thigh and gave it a squeeze. As a show of support, of solidarity.




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