Taking chances

Dr. Joe Braden took a posting as locum on a remote Fijian island to escape his memories. But he finds the solace he seeks in the unlikeliest of places...the arms of captivating Dr. Emily Clifford.

Born with a distinctive birthmark, Emily has spent years hidden behind a mask of makeup. Yet Joe makes her feel beautiful in her skin for the first time ever. She’s been burned before, but if she can find the courage to love her army doc she can claim the happy-ever-after she’s dreamed of...

Dear Reader,

I’m a big fan of modern-day adventurers and those TV programmes in which they’re dropped at remote locations with nothing but a camera and the will to survive. Mainly because I come from the ‘what if?’ school of thought, and prefer a cosy seat in my comfort zone to camping in the potentially spider-infested unknown. I admire that devil-may-care attitude to life—even though I watch those shows wondering why people would put themselves in unnecessary danger.

When ex-army army doc Joe came to my mind he had that same adventurous spirit. He flits from one exciting escapade to another with no intention of settling down. Until he meets GP Emily, who is trying to break free from her own boring world, and begins to see the attraction in having someone to share his experiences with.

Although the remote island where they both arrive to volunteer their medical services is beautiful and welcoming, Emily’s insecurities are in danger of stifling her enjoyment. Thank goodness Joe is there to give her a little nudge forward when she needs it.

Now I come to think about it, he kind of reminds me of my husband...

I do hope you enjoy going on Emily and Joe’s exotic adventure with them. It was certainly fun to write!

Lots of love,

Karin xx

The Courage to Love Her Army Doc

Karin Baine

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the ladies who’ve shared this adventure with me—Ann, Cherie, Donna, Doris, Heather, Joanne, Julia, June, Kiru, Michelle, Rima, Sharon, Stacy, Stephanie, Sukhi, Summerita, Suzy, Tammy, Teresa and Xandra. UCW was where it all began.

With thanks also to the residents of Los Balcones and the members of ‘The Monday Club’ who bring a little sunshine into my life.

And to George—the other half of me.

Praise for Karin Baine

‘The moment I picked up Karin Baine’s debut medical romance I knew I would not be disappointed with her work. Poetic and descriptive writing, engaging dialogue, thoroughly created characters and a tightly woven plot propels French Fling to Forever into the must-read, highly recommended level.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews

‘This is a wonderfully written book and one I could not put down and had to finish. You will not be disappointed in Karin Baine’s writing.’

—Goodreads on French Fling to Forever

‘A Kiss to Change Her Life by Karin Baine is a well-researched, well-written, emotionally touching story... One Mills & Boon Medical Romance you do not want to miss!’

—Goodreads

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

Title Page

Dedication

Praise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

PARADISE. IT WAS the only word to describe these sun-drenched islands that Emily Clifford hoped were going to change her life. Unfortunately, she hadn’t accounted for the distance she would have to travel to find her solace.

Travel sickness wasn’t something she’d ever suffered before or she would’ve had one of her colleagues at the GP practice prescribe her something before she’d left England. If she’d been thinking clearly she might have realised that accessing one of these remote Fijian islands would take more than a taxi ride. Her first day after landing at the airport on the main island, Viti Levu, walking through the markets, and her night at a luxurious five-star resort now seemed a lifetime ago.

Today’s white-knuckle charter flight, followed by a bone-jangling cross-country drive and hours of sailing these waters, had taken their toll.

The only thing she was looking forward to more than a shower and bed was seeing Peter, her stepbrother, waiting for her. He was the reason she was even attempting this adventure. The chance to prove her ex-husband wrong about her being boring was simply a bonus.

She and Greg had been together since high school, married for ten years, but it hadn’t been enough. She hadn’t been enough.

When Peter had told her about the mission out here and how they were struggling to find medical professionals to volunteer, she’d jumped at the chance to help for a while. Not least because this fortnight away meant she’d be occupied while Greg and Little Miss Bit-on-the-Side held the wedding of the year.

Another swell of nausea rose as the boat bobbed again but this had to be better than sitting at home, crying over her wedding photographs and wondering where it had all gone wrong.

As they finally reached the far side of the island and prepared to go ashore, she could see a figure sitting cross-legged at the water’s edge. She waved manically, desperate more than ever to get off this boat and find comfort in the arms of her big brother.

With her hand shielding her eyes from the glaring sun, she squinted at her welcome party of one slowly getting to his feet. He appeared to have grown in the two years since she’d last seen him, and he was leaner than she remembered, as though someone had stretched him like golden-coloured toffee.

Eventually she had to come to terms with the fact that no amount of sand, sea and sun could cause such a physical transformation. Disappointment settled in her belly as she realised it wasn’t Peter at all. She was going to have to wait for her tea and sympathy for a bit longer.

She’d done her best to be strong over this past year and a half, holding it together as she’d moved out of her marital home and keeping a smile in place for all her patients when she’d been dying inside. For a short time she wanted to stop pretending she wasn’t crushed by the rejection and it didn’t take every ounce of strength just to get out of bed in the morning and face the world. Ten minutes of being the baby sister, crying out her pain to her big bro, would help reset the factory settings. Two weeks doing what she loved, what she was qualified to do, would remind her she was more than a redundant wife. She’d lasted this long for a shoulder to cry on so waiting a few extra minutes wouldn’t kill her. Although she couldn’t swear the pent-up anger and emotion she’d been gearing up to release wouldn’t seep out somewhere along the way.

Her bejewelled sandals and floral maxi-dress flapped through the water as she stepped ashore. In hindsight, it hadn’t been the ideal choice of travelling outfit. Her feet ached, her dress was creased and as she came face-to-face with the hunk on the beach she was pretty sure the flower in her hair was wilting. What had been an attempt to get into the holiday spirit had probably succeeded in making her appear even more ridiculous than usual, like a stereotypical tourist instead of a qualified professional hoping to fit effortlessly into society.

With his close-cropped brown hair and dressed in mid-length khaki shorts and navy T-shirt, her greeter looked more action man than island native. There was no sign of a grass skirt anywhere. Unfortunately.

‘Hi. I’m Emily.’ She held out her hand for him to shake but he bypassed the traditional greeting to head for the boat. The bit of research she’d done said they mostly spoke English here on Yasi island but perhaps she’d found the one local who didn’t.

He began unloading her luggage, muscles flexing as he hurled her case and boxes of supplies onto the white sand.

‘Bula.’ She tried again, using the one Fijian word she’d picked up on her travels so far.

The Peter impostor waved off her last link to civilisation and came back to join her.

‘Bula to you too.’ The cut-glass British accent didn’t fit with the swarthy skin but the familiar tongue and the glimpse of a smile put her mind at ease about being stranded here with an uncommunicative stranger.

‘You’re English?’

‘Yeah. From Oxford, actually. I’m Joe. Joe Braden.’ This time he did shake her hand, the firm grip showing the strength behind those muscles.

Emily shivered, regardless of the tropical heat. Clearly she’d been on her own too long when a single handshake was enough to get her excited. Not that she was ready for the dating game. In the day and age when physical attributes held more value than loyalty or commitment, she was in no rush to put herself through any more heartache.

‘Joe Braden... Why does that name ring a bell?’ They’d never met. She’d have remembered if they had.

‘I served with Peter in Afghanistan.’ The smile disappeared as quickly as it had formed.

That made sense of the military haircut and the no-nonsense attitude. She’d heard that name in conversation and she was sure there was an extra nugget of information tied to it that was just out of reach in her subconscious.

‘Where is he? No offence, but I had hoped he’d be here to meet me.’ She didn’t want to get into a conversation about their time in combat and she doubted he’d be keen to rehash the whole experience either. It had been hell for all those involved, including the families waiting anxiously at home for their safe return. Peter’s decision to leave the army and begin a life dedicated to his faith had been a relief to everyone who loved him.

‘None taken. We couldn’t be sure exactly what time to expect you and Peter had a service this evening. I volunteered for lookout duty.’ He handed her a suitcase and a holdall while he hoisted the large box onto his shoulder.

She didn’t dare ask how long he’d waited. His lips, drawn into a thin line and his apparent hurry to get moving, told her it had probably been too long. Not exactly the welcome she’d been hoping for.

Joe was already taking great strides across the beach, so Emily traipsed after him as fast as she could with a holdall hooked over one shoulder and a suitcase in the other, waddling like a colourful penguin. There was no immediate sign of human habitation nearby and she didn’t relish the thought of being left behind.

‘What brings you out here anyway?’ She caught up with him at the bottom of a steep, grassy slope. Their journey apparently wasn’t going to be an easy or short one. Some small talk might help it pass quicker.

‘Your stepbrother.’

‘You’re visiting Peter?’ He hadn’t mentioned having company in his emails. She hadn’t counted on sharing his attention. As pitiful as that sounded, she hadn’t seen him in two whole years and wanted to make up for lost time. Who knew where he’d be going next or how long he’d be gone? Quality time with him wasn’t going to be quite the same with surly soldier dude tagging along.

‘I’m here as a medical volunteer, the same as you. I’ll be here for another month. Maybe. I prefer to keep on the move. What you would call a modern-day adventurer, I guess. This is the longest I’ve actually spent in one place since leaving the army, which is entirely down to your stepbrother’s powers of persuasion.’ He didn’t even slow his pace to deliver the news, leaving her staring open-mouthed at him.

There were two things wrong with that statement. First of all, it meant he had personal intel on her already if he knew why she was there. She didn’t have her stepbrother down as the gossipy type since he hadn’t seen the need to share information concerning her new companion, so perhaps soldier boy had insisted on a debriefing before meeting his assigned target. Goodness knew what went on between ex-military buddies, they had a bro code mere mortals could never infiltrate, but she hoped any discussion about her arrival hadn’t included details of her failed marriage. That shame was exactly what she was trying to escape.

Secondly, his introduction undoubtedly meant she’d be working alongside this man for the duration of her stay. Trying to get more than a few words out of him on this trek was proving hard enough.

In her version of this medical outreach programme she was simply transferring her cosy GP office to an exotic location without interference from third parties. Peter had sounded so delighted to hear she was coming she’d assumed she’d be the sole medical professional in residence. This Joe was stealing all her thunder.

‘Do I call you Dr? Sergeant? Joe...?’ She was going to have serious words with her stepbrother about dumping her on a complete stranger without a word of warning. It immediately put her on the back foot when Peter should have known how important it was for her to feel comfortable in her surroundings.

‘Joe will do just fine.’

She couldn’t work out if the reluctance to engage in conversation was personal or he was simply trying to conserve energy. The hike up this hill was a test of endurance in itself, never mind the heavy box he was balancing on his broad shoulders. She was starting to regret packing the weighty school books she’d brought with her as a gift.

‘Isn’t there someone who could give us a hand?’ She was tired, achy and full of guilt, watching him shift the burden from one shoulder to the other.

‘Did you bring the yaqona?’ He ignored her question to stop and ask one of his own, as if hers wasn’t important enough to deserve the few seconds it would take to answer it. With any luck this place was big enough to house two independent clinics. There was no way she was spending the duration of this trip with someone so rude.

‘Yes. It’s in this bag.’ She, however, was polite enough to answer him. Peter had at least given her the heads up about bringing gifts with her, including the root of this pepper plant. Apparently it was some sort of payment for her stay among the villagers, even though it did look kind of funky to her. She would have preferred to give him a pot plant or a nice bottle of wine with a thank-you card.

‘Good. We’ll go and make sevusevu now with the chief.’

‘Can’t we do that later? I really need to shower and freshen up.’ By the time they reached their destination she wouldn’t be fit to be seen in public.

‘No can do. You have to show your respect to the tribal leader before you can integrate yourself into village life. If you respect the customs here it’ll ensure you become part of the community.’

Right now, the heat and humidity were making her feel as though her face was melting. She was very wary of her potentially sliding make-up and the fact he was telling her she wouldn’t get the chance to redo it. The heavy, thick concealer she wore to cover her birthmark was the one essential from home she couldn’t do without.

She was self-conscious of the deep red port wine stain dominating the left side of her face, so noticeable against her otherwise pale skin. It was something that had caused her a great deal of distress over the years. And not only from uneducated, tactless strangers. Her own mother had been ashamed of her appearance. She’d told her that when she’d forced her through painful, ineffective laser treatment as a child. She’d shown it when she’d left the family home without her. In the end it had been the camouflage make-up and the love of her father’s new family that had helped her live with it.

This was a big ask for her anyway, to come to foreign lands alone, never mind leaving herself exposed and open to scrutiny from strangers.

As they crested the hill she could see the settlement nestled below. It was now or never.

She stopped and dropped her bags. This trip was always going to be about improvising and making use of whatever resources she had at the time.

‘What are you doing?’ Joe raised an eyebrow at her as she rooted through her belongings for her mirror compact.

‘I need to look my best if I’m going to meet someone of such great importance.’ She made a few repairs before she scared small children and animals, ignoring Joe’s shake of the head.

‘You know, that’s really not necessary. You should let your skin breathe and I’m sure you look just as amazing without it.’

There was no time to linger on the fact he’d paid her a compliment as he spun on his heel and started walking again. Besides, he’d be running if he knew what really lay beneath. She took one last glance in the mirror to check for any errant red patches shining through the layers of powder and paint and packed her precious cargo away again to follow him. Now she’d had a chance to boost her confidence again she could face any new challenge.

* * *

Joe couldn’t hang about to watch her plaster that stuff over her face. He knew why she did it, of course, he’d seen the photographs of his kid sister Peter had kept with him out in Afghanistan. It simply irked him that someone had made her feel as though she had to use it to keep her real self from view. He knew how it was to have people devalue your worth so readily over a minor flaw.

Okay, his hearing had taken a hit along with the rest of him on the front line but that didn’t mean he should have been written off altogether. The army might think all he was good for now was a desk job or teaching but he had no intention of sitting still. Fiji was just one stop on the list of adventures he’d embarked on since taking medical retirement.

According to Peter, Emily had had a rough time of it lately but Joe knew how empowering these trips abroad could be. His time trekking in Nepal, island hopping in the Philippines and swimming on the Great Barrier Reef had kept him from focusing on all the negatives in his past. With any luck she’d return at the end of this mission equally as upbeat, not caring a jot about other people’s perceptions of her.

Although how she could think she was anything other than stunning he didn’t know. The second she’d stepped ashore he’d known he was in trouble.

His decision to volunteer as official island greeter had been born of curiosity. He’d seen the worn photographs of her and Peter as kids, the shy Emily always hiding behind her stepbrother, and he’d wondered about the woman she’d become. The doctor he was going to be working alongside for the foreseeable future.

In the four weeks he’d already spent in this island paradise she was the most beautiful sight he’d seen yet. With the golden waves of her hair shining in the sunlight, her turquoise eyes the colour of the water and her slender form draped in azure, she could’ve stepped out of a shampoo advert. It was too bad she was his mate’s little sister and nursing a broken heart. Two things that immediately put her off limits. Even if hearing-impaired ex-army docs were her thing.

He’d let enough of his army buddies down without failing Peter too. Neither was he in the market for any sort of emotional entanglements. Emily was literally carrying more baggage than he was prepared to take on. He was more of a backpacking guy, travelling light with no intention of setting down roots. Although he helped out with these outreach programmes now and then when people were in dire need, he was better off on his own. It meant no long-term responsibility to anyone but himself.

The last time he’d been charged with the welfare of people close to him, it had cost two of his colleagues their lives. When the IED had knocked him to kingdom come he’d failed to be there for the men he’d had a duty of care for. Next to the young families left without fathers, his loss seemed insignificant. These days he preferred to keep his wits about him rather than become too complacent and safe in his surroundings.

‘Are we there yet?’ Emily was smiling as she jogged to keep up with him.

At least when she was close he could hear her or interpret her facial expressions. He only had a six per cent loss of hearing but sometimes it meant he missed full conversations going on in the background. More often than not he chose to let people think he was an arrogant sod over revealing his weakness. He and Emily had their pride in common.

‘Very nearly. Now, there are a few protocols to be aware of before presenting the yaqona for the kava ceremony. You’re dressed modestly enough so that shouldn’t be a problem.’ He took the opportunity for a more in-depth study of her form, though he wasn’t likely to forget in a hurry how she looked today.

‘What’s the kava ceremony?’ She eyed him suspiciously, as if he might be luring her to the village as some sort of human sacrifice.

‘Basically, it’s a welcoming ceremony with the most senior tribal members present. They grind the yaqona, or kava, and make it into a drink for you to take with them in a traditional ceremony. All visitors are invited to take part when they first arrive on the island.’

‘It’s not one of those hallucinogenic substances you hear about, is it? I don’t want to be seeing fairies dancing about all night in front of my eyes. I’m not even a big drinker because I don’t enjoy that feeling of being out of control.’ She was starting to get herself into a flap for no reason.

Joe hadn’t even asked questions when he’d taken part in his first kava ceremony, he’d just gone with the flow. He embraced every new experience with gusto, whereas Emily seemed to fear it.

‘Don’t worry. It’s nothing sinister, although the taste leaves a lot to be desired. There shouldn’t be any fairy visions keeping you awake. If anything, it’s known to aid sleep, among other things.’ He kept the claims of its aphrodisiac properties to himself rather than freak her out any further.

‘I don’t think that’s something I’m going to have a problem with tonight.’ She set her case down and rubbed her palms on her dress before lifting it again. The heavy labour in less-than-ideal circumstances was something she was going to have to get used to and only time would tell if she was up to it.

He, on the other hand, had a feeling his peace of mind here had suddenly been thrown into chaos.

It was just as well he thrived on a challenge.

CHAPTER TWO

ALL EMILY WANTED was a familiar face and familiar things around her. It wasn’t a lot to ask for and the sooner she got her bags unpacked and her clinic in the sun set up the better. Then she might be able to finally relax. She’d had all the excitement she needed just getting here.

Her pulse skittered faster as the ramshackle buildings with their corrugated-iron roofs came into view. This was as far from her humdrum life as she could get and a definite two-fingered salute to her ex.

‘Can I refuse to take part in this kava thing?’ She’d used up her quota of bravery already. Drinking unknown substances with strangers was the sort of thing that could make her the subject of one of those ‘disappearances unsolved’ programmes.

Her idea of living dangerously was putting an extra spoonful of sugar in her cuppa at bedtime, not imbibing a local brew of origin unknown to her. It wasn’t that she’d heard anything but good things about these people, she was just scared of all this newness. This would’ve been so much easier if Peter was here with her instead of the scowling Joe.

‘You have free will, of course you can refuse. It would, however, show a distinct lack of respect for your hosts.’

That would be a no, then. It was going to be difficult enough fitting in here, without incurring the wrath of the community from the get-go.

Trust and respect were vital components between a doctor and her patients. It had taken her a long time to gain both from her colleagues and the locals when she’d first joined the GP practice at home. Only years of hard work, building her reputation, had moved her from being last option to first choice for her patients.

With only two weeks to re-create that success here she’d have to take every opportunity available to ingratiate herself. Even if she was breaking out in a cold sweat at what that meant she could be walking into.

They passed a white building, larger than the rest, which her tour guide informed her was the village school. Although lessons were surely over for the day, the children were congregated on the patch of green surrounding it, playing ball games. There was a chorus of ‘Bula!’ as the youngsters waved in their direction.

Unfortunately, one boy by the volleyball net was too distracted by their arrival to see the ball coming straight for him. The loud smack as it connected full in his face even made Emily flinch. As the child crumpled to the ground, for a split second she wondered if there was some sort of protocol she should follow as she hadn’t been officially introduced. Common sense quickly overrode her worry and she dropped her bags to run to him. It was only when she was battling through the throng of children to reach him that she realised Joe had followed too. They knelt on either side of the boy, who was thankfully still conscious but clearly winded.

‘If you could just stay still for us, sweetheart, we want to give you a check over. That was quite a hit you took there.’ She couldn’t see any blood or bruising as yet but she wanted him to stay flat until they’d given him a quick examination.

‘Hi, Joni. This is Emily, the new doctor. You know, Pastor Peter’s sister?’ Joe made the introduction she’d omitted to do herself, and was already checking the boy’s pupils with a small torch he’d retrieved from one of his pockets.

She’d bet her life he had a Swiss Army knife and a compass somewhere in those cargo shorts too. He was the type of guy who was always prepared, like a rugged, muscly Boy Scout. The only survival essentials she carried were make-up, teabags and chocolate biscuits, none of which were particularly useful at present. The few medical supplies she had with her were packed somewhere in her abandoned luggage.

Life as an island doctor certainly wasn’t going to run to the office hours she was used to. She was going to be permanently on call and if she didn’t come equipped, deferring to her army medic colleague was going to become the norm. That feeling of inadequacy could defeat the purpose of her personal journey here if she didn’t get with the programme. This trip was primarily to bring medical relief to the people of the island and she could do without uncovering any new flaws to obsess over.

‘Do you know where you are, Joni? Or what happened?’ She wrestled back some control, determined not to let the issue of a pocket torch spiral into a major meltdown in her neurotic brain.

That earned her an Are you serious? glare. ‘I’m lying on the ground because you two won’t let me get up after I got hit in the face with a ball.’

Joe snickered as she was educated by her first patient.

‘Dr Emily’s making sure the bump on the head hasn’t caused any serious damage, smart guy.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair, clearly already acquainted with the child.

She figured he was using her first name to break the ice a little because she was a stranger. Either that or he didn’t know what surname she was currently going under.

It was a subject she hadn’t fully resolved herself. Greg Clifford was going to be someone else’s husband soon. She no longer had any claim over his name, or anything else. Yet reverting back to her maiden name of Jackson was confirmation that her marriage had failed. She’d been returned unwanted for a second time, like a mangy stray dog. The idea of going back on the singles market felt very much like waiting for someone to take pity on her and find her a forever home.

She tried to refocus her attention back from her ex to the present. He didn’t deserve any more of her time since all the years she’d given him had apparently meant so little.

‘Do you have any pain in your neck?’

Her choice of words had her patient sniggering at her again.

‘Come on, Joni. We’re trying to help you here. We need to know if you’re hurting anywhere before we get you back on your feet.’

It was comforting to find Joe had her back this time, even if his apparent seniority here was irksome.

‘I’m okay.’ As if to try to prove their fears unwarranted, Joni jumped to his feet, only to have to reach out and steady himself by grabbing Joe’s arm.

If Emily was honest, she’d have made a grab for the strong and sturdy desert island doc too in similar circumstances.

‘Really?’ Joe arched a dark eyebrow as he glanced down at his new small-child accessory.

Joni shrugged but made no further wisecracks.

‘We should really get him checked out properly.’ Although he bore no immediate signs of concussion, it didn’t mean they should rule it out altogether.

As well as getting a cold compress to prevent swelling, she’d prefer to keep him under observation in case of headaches or vomiting. He’d taken quite a wallop and although the skull was there to protect the brain there was always a chance the knock could cause the brain to swell or bleed. She didn’t like taking unnecessary chances.

‘The best option for now is to get him to Miriama’s.’ Joe crouched down for the patient to jump on his back. A piggyback was apparently the equivalent of an ambulance around here.

‘Isn’t there a medical centre we can take him to?’ A small bird of panic fluttered its wings in her chest. She’d been led to believe there’d be some sort of facility for her to practise from. He might be used to treating people in the field but she certainly wasn’t.

‘Of sorts, but Miriama is his grandmother and the closest thing they have to a medic. She can keep an eye on him until you make sevusevu and if his condition changes we’ll only be a few minutes away.’

It didn’t slip her attention that he intended coming with her. In the absence of her brother she supposed he was going to have to do as backup. At least this incident showed he could be a calming influence when the need arose and she trusted he would keep her grounded until she tracked down her sibling.

‘What about my things?’ As they followed the dirt trail further into the village she fretted over her worldly possessions abandoned on the hillside.

‘No one’s going to steal them. We’ll come back for the yaqona and send someone to take the rest back to Miriama’s later.’ He strode on ahead, unconcerned with her petty worries or the weight strapped around his neck.

She could picture him in his army gear, bravely heading into battle with his kit on his back, and it gave her chills. The idea of her brother in a war zone had always freaked her out and there’d been no greater relief than when he’d left the army. She was glad he was no longer in danger. Joe too. Life here might be more unconventional than she was used to but she didn’t have to worry about anyone getting shot or blown up.

With her imagination slowing her down, she was forced to run and catch up again. The sandals slapping against her bare feet really weren’t suitable footwear for chasing fit men in a hurry.

‘Why should my luggage end up at Miriama’s?’ That obscure snippet of information hadn’t passed her by.

‘That’s where you’re going to be staying for the next fortnight. Miriama’s your host.’

Although she hadn’t expected the luxury of last night’s five-star resort, she’d imagined she’d be staying with her brother rather than another stranger.

‘Peter’s staying with the village chief. He’s earned a great deal of respect from the community for his endeavours here.’ Joe headed off her next question before she could ask it. She couldn’t help but wonder what his own arrangements were.

‘And you? Where do you lay your head at night?’ Only when the words left her lips did she realise how nosy that sounded. She hadn’t intended prying into his personal life but this was all new to her. She didn’t know if he was presented with pretty young virgins and his own house to thank him for his services. It would certainly explain her brother’s reluctance to leave the village.

He cocked his head to one side, his mouth twitching as he fought a smile. ‘Well, there’s a new arrival in my bed tonight—’

She held her hand up before he went into graphic detail. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.’

‘So I’m moving from Miriama’s into the clinic.’

It took a second for the image of Joe cavorting with exotic beauties to clear and let his words sink in.

‘I’m taking your bed? Honestly, that’s not necessary. I’m more than willing to take your place at the clinic.’ She didn’t know what that entailed but she’d take it over the lack of privacy in someone else’s house.

Joe shook his head. ‘The clinic’s a glorified hut with two camp beds and a supply cupboard. You’ll find no comfort there. I, on the other hand, am used to kipping in ditches, or worse. It’s no hardship for me. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour.’ He gave a furtive glance back at his charge to make sure he wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t want to offend Miriama but I prefer the peace and quiet of being alone. I’m not used to domesticity.’

Perhaps it was because he was the first man to get so close to her in well over a year or the picture he painted of himself as some wild creature who couldn’t be tamed but the shivers were back, causing havoc along her spine and the back of her neck.

Okay, she wasn’t happy with the arrangements made on her behalf but she couldn’t deny him his bed choice when he’d gone so far out of his way for her already. She couldn’t form a logical argument anyway when her brain was still stuck on a freeze frame of caveman Joe.

* * *

The smiling Miriama was as welcoming as anyone could hope for. Until she found out Emily had yet to meet with the tribal elders and shooed them both back out of the door. She’d unhitched her grandson with the promise of getting some ice for the bump on his forehead and accepted some paracetamol, which Joe had produced from his shorts of many pockets. This new informal approach to treatment would take some getting used to. Just like her new co-worker would.

They retrieved her gifts for the community on the way back to the chief’s house and dispatched the rest of her belongings back to her temporary lodgings with the children. Trust didn’t come easily to her any more but she was willing to take a leap of faith safe in the knowledge there were few places on the island to hide. She’d found that out the minute she’d set foot on the beach.

Now she was standing on the doorstep of the most important man on Yasi as Joe entered into a dialogue she assumed involved her arrival. It was hard to tell because they were conversing in Fijian, another skill he’d apparently acquired in his short time here and one more advantage over her. Languages had never been her strong point. Along with keeping a husband.

She was hanging back as the menfolk discussed her business, still hoping for a way out, when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

‘Hey, sis. Long time no see.’

In her desire to be accepted she thought she’d imagined her stepbrother standing beside her in a garish pink hibiscus shirt but there was no mistaking the bear hug as anything but the real deal as the breath was almost squeezed out of her.

‘Peter?’ The tears were already welling in her eyes with relief to have finally found some comfort.

‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now, Joe will be acting as our “chief” since he’s the eldest of our group, or temporary tribe. It’s his job to present the kava root to the elders. We’ll talk you through everything else once we’re inside.’

He instructed her to remove her sandals before they entered. Sandwiched between her brother and Joe was the safest she’d felt in an age. They sat down on woven mats strewn across the floor of the main room, surrounded by those she assumed were the elders of the village.

‘I take it everything met with their approval?’ She leaned over to whisper to her unofficial leader sitting cross-legged beside her.

Joe kept his gaze straight ahead, completely ignoring her. She didn’t know if pretending she didn’t exist was part of the process until she was accepted into the community or if he was completely relinquishing all responsibility for her now Peter had appeared. Either way, it hurt.

She leaned back the other direction toward Peter. ‘Am I persona non grata around here until the ceremony’s over?’

He frowned at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

She nodded at her silent partner. ‘Your friend here can be a little cold when he wants. Thanks for landing me with a complete stranger, by the way. Just what I needed to make me feel at home. Not.’

The cheesy grin told her he’d done it on purpose. ‘I thought you two could do with some team bonding since you’ll be working together, and he volunteered in the first place. I should probably mention he’s a bit hard of hearing, especially if you’re whispering.’

‘I had no idea!’ Shame enveloped her. It had never entered her head that hearing impairment could’ve been an issue with Joe when he was so young and capable. She of all people should’ve known not to make assumptions based on people’s appearances.

‘Yeah. IED blast. The one where we lost Ste and Batesy.’

The pieces she’d been scrambling to put together slowly fitted into place. Of course, she’d heard of Sergeant Joe Braden. He’d been one of Peter’s best friends and that blast had made her brother finally experience for himself the worry and fear of losing someone close. It hadn’t been long after that he’d made the decision to change his career path completely. She hated it that his friends had suffered so much for him to reach that point and now she’d met the man behind the name, that blast held more significance than ever.

She sneaked a sideways peek at him. His strong profile gave no clue to his impairment. There was no physical evidence to provoke a discussion or sympathy. Unlike her, whose scars were there for the world to see and pass judgement on.

Over the years she’d heard all sorts of theories whispered behind her back. From being scalded as a baby to being the victim of a house fire or an acid attack, she’d heard them all. In the end it had been easier to simply cover the birthmark than to endure the constant rumours.

Joe came across as a stronger, more confident person than she could ever hope to be, but that kind of injury must’ve caused him the same level of anguish at one time or another. Someone like him would’ve seen it as a personal weakness when their whole career had been built on personal fitness and being the best. She barely knew him but she could tell that the word ‘courage’ was stamped all over his DNA. She was even more in awe of him now she knew something of his past.

As though he could sense her staring at the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft contours of his lips, Joe slowly turned to face her. ‘There’s a certain guide to drinking kava. You clap once with a cupped hand, making a hollow sound, and yell, ‘Bula!’ Drink it in one gulp, clap three times and say, ‘Mathe.’ You’ll be offered the option of high tide or low tide. I strongly advise low tide for your first time.’

‘Okay...’ She might’ve put this down as some sort of elaborate practical joke if it wasn’t for the twinkle in his eye and his excited-puppy enthusiasm while waiting for the ceremony to begin. In contrast to her reservations about the whole palaver, he clearly relished being a part of the culture.

He fell silent again as the villagers began to grind up the kava in the centre of the room. There were few women present but as the proceedings got under way she didn’t feel intimidated at all. The relaxed atmosphere and the men playing guitar in the corner of the room gave it more of a party vibe. Despite her initial reservations, she was actually beginning to relax.

After they ground the kava, it was strained through a cloth bag into a large wooden bowl. It looked like muddy water to her but the chief drank it down without hesitation, as did Peter and Joe. She was thankful for the advice when it came to her turn. Requesting ‘low tide’ ensured the coconut shell she was offered was only half-full.

It didn’t taste any better than it looked. Like mud. Bitter, peppery mud. Definitely an acquired taste but she drank it in one gulp and did the happy, clappy thing which seemed to please everyone. For unknown reasons the proud look from Joe was the one that gave her tingles.

In fact, it wasn’t long before her mouth and tongue seemed to go completely numb.

‘Whath happenin’?’ she lisped to Peter as her tongue suddenly seemed to be too big for her mouth.

‘That’ll be the kava kicking in. It’s a very mild narcotic but don’t worry, it’ll pass soon.’ Something that wasn’t bothering her God-fearing brother as he accepted another bowl.

She declined to partake in any further rounds, which her hosts accepted without any offence. Clearly she’d already proved herself as a worthy guest. Thank goodness. Any more and she’d either pass out or lose control of the rest of her faculties. All she wanted now was for Joe to take her to bed. Home. She meant home...

* * *

Joe had become accustomed to the bitter-tasting celebration drink to the point even a second bowl had had no effect. He was aware, however, that it might not be the same for Emily, especially as she was probably tired and hungry and currently running her fingertips across her lips. Numb no doubt from the small taste she’d had. He watched as she darted her tongue out to lick them, drawing his attention and thoughts to where they shouldn’t go.

Emily was his best friend’s sister and obviously running away from her demons to have come somewhere so clearly out of her comfort zone. She wasn’t, and couldn’t ever be, someone he could hook up with. Normally he didn’t hesitate to act on his attraction to women on his travels. Life was too short and so was his stay in their company when he was always on the move. This was an entirely different situation. Peter would always be part of his life and he wouldn’t jeopardise that friendship when he invariably moved on. There was no point thinking of her as anything other than a hindrance, a soft soul who’d probably never left her cosy office and would only get in his way. A liability he didn’t want or need.

Now she had been fully accepted into the community the villagers soon let their curiosity shine through and asked the questions he already knew the answers to.

‘Do you have a husband?’

‘What about children?’

The first question had thrown her, he could see it in her wide aquamarine eyes and knew why. Peter had confided in him about her marital problems long before her arrival because he’d worried how she might’ve been affected by it all. He’d taken her acceptance to help out on the mission as the first step to her recovery and had sworn Joe to secrecy. Not that it was any of his business anyway and he’d no wish to embarrass her by answering for her now. This was her call.

She took her time in finding an answer she was happy to give them. ‘No husband or children.’

It didn’t surprise him to find her divorce wasn’t a subject she intended to discuss. She wasn’t the only one who preferred to keep private matters out of the public domain. Only Peter knew about his past in the army and the fallout from the IED, and that’s the way it would stay. Much like Emily, he’d decided he didn’t need sympathy or pitying looks.

The gathering and the kava seemed to relax her more as the evening wore on, and she fielded their questions about her work without giving away too much personal information. A single, female doctor was something of a novelty out here and he understood their fascination. He was caught up in it too.

As usual, the evening ended with music and dancing, with both he and a yawning Emily watching from the sidelines.

‘You can go any time you’re ready.’

‘Really? They won’t mind?’ In contrast to her earlier attempt to cry off from proceedings, she now seemed apprehensive about potentially upsetting her hosts. That was the beauty of the people here. They were so warm and friendly it was impossible to feel like an outsider for too long.

‘Sure. You’ve done everything right and they’ll understand you’re tired. This could go on all night.’ He got up and helped her to her feet.

‘Peter?’ She waited for her brother to join her but he wasn’t as ready as his companions to leave.

Joe couldn’t wait for some time out from the crowd. Sometimes the white noise could be a bit overwhelming when he couldn’t pick out individual conversations.

‘You could see Emily to Miriama’s, couldn’t you? It’s on the way back to the medical centre.’

He couldn’t fault Peter’s logic since he was staying with the chief anyway but it meant prolonging his role as escort a while longer. This was beyond the remit of his volunteer medic/best friend duties and he didn’t want it to become a habit. He’d only known Emily a few hours and for someone who considered himself a lone wolf he’d already taken on too much responsibility.

‘Fine.’ He sighed with just enough sulkiness to let Peter know he wasn’t happy playing babysitter any more.

The only thoughts in his head about Emily should be to do with the clinic and how they were going to make it work together. Now there was no chance of forgetting how beautiful she’d looked, sitting cross-legged, utterly transfixed with island life, if she was going to be the last thing he saw before going to sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

EMILY WAS STILL trying to shuffle back into her shoes as she trailed after Joe. If it wasn’t for it being completely pitch-black outside without the streetlights she took for granted back home and the sense of direction that meant she shouldn’t be allowed out of the house unsupervised, she’d totally have made her own way back without him. Joe’s term as ‘leader’ had clearly ended given his reluctance to see her home. Not that she blamed him. She’d imposed long enough and as soon as she had five minutes alone with her brother she’d tear strips off him for palming her off on him all night.

Peter should have understood what a big deal it had been for her to come here and gone out of his way to look after her. She needed some TLC after everything she’d gone through, not being frog-marched home as if she’d broken curfew. This was supposed to build her confidence, not reaffirm that idea she spoiled everyone’s fun.

‘I’m sorry you’ve copped babysitting duties for the nuisance little sister again.’ She made sure she spoke loudly and clearly for him to hear. She didn’t know the full extent of his hearing loss. He wasn’t wearing a hearing aid but he was the type of guy who wouldn’t be seen with one even if he needed it.

‘No problem. We can’t have you stumbling about here alone in the dark. It’ll take a while for you to get your bearings but you’ll be able to walk this island with your eyes shut in no time.’

She didn’t correct him by admitting another of her weaknesses since he was probably pinning his hopes on it so he wouldn’t have to do this again. However, without her chatter, the sound of his heavy footsteps dominated the night, reminding her he was trying to ditch her as soon as possible.

‘So what was with all the questions back there? They’re not planning on marrying me off to the chief’s son, are they?’ It was a pseudo-concern in an attempt at small talk. Mostly.

The footsteps stopped and she could hear him grinding the dirt underfoot as he spun round.

‘You’ve watched way too many movies. These people are no different from you or me. They simply have a sense of tradition. They’ve accepted you as one of their own, there’s no ulterior motive.’

She was caught so off balance by his passion as he spoke of his new friends that she stumbled. She made a grab for him in the dark to steady herself and found a nice sturdy bicep beneath her fingers.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, eventually letting go once the shock of coming into contact with bare male body parts wore off. Or at least when she thought the prolonged touching was entering the awkward and desperate phase. He may be lean but he was one hundred per cent solid hunk.

She was nodding her head and apologising as he defended his friends, in an attempt at a mature response, which probably shouldn’t include going back for another squeeze.

‘You’re right. I...er...was thrown by the level of attention. I’m not used to it.’ If anything she tried to avoid those kinds of situations where she was the focal point of interest in case people studied her too closely and spotted her secret shame.

She caught the glint of his smile in the moonlight as he looked down at her. Compared to her last port of call, she should’ve been more at ease under the cover of darkness but her birthmark may as well have been blazing under his night vision she felt so exposed here with him.

‘You’re beautiful and smart. Of course they want to know your story.’ The tone of his voice was soft enough to snuggle into, never mind the unexpected compliment almost bringing her to a swoon.

Except he was back on the move again, not lingering for a romantic smooch under the stars. She definitely watched too many movies. Probably because reality was too damn anticlimactic. She sighed, forced to gather herself together and remember this was no holiday romance, as much as she wanted to get carried away as far from real life as possible.

He didn’t elaborate on what had prompted the ego boost and she had to hold her tongue to stop herself from pushing for more praise. How had he reached the conclusion she was either of those things? And did he have any interest in her beyond work and doing favours for her brother? Would it matter if he did?

The resulting silence between them stretched out to Miriama’s house, giving her time to get her head back out of the clouds. He hadn’t seen her true, vivid, scarlet colours. His assessment of her looks and personality was based on a lie. He knew nothing of the scarred woman beneath who’d been rejected time and time again.

By the time they reached her doorstep she’d firmly landed her backside back on earth with a thud. All he’d been trying to do was illustrate how ridiculous her assumptions had been. He probably hadn’t even meant what he’d said but it had been so long since a man had paid her a compliment she’d taken it and twisted it into something it wasn’t. She blamed the kava. Apart from the numbness and the tingles, she’d add delusions to the list of side effects. She’d have to remember to ship a crate of the stuff back to England with her.

* * *

To Joe, the short walk to Miriama’s seemed twice as long as usual. That was the trouble with island life. It was too easy to get caught up in the beauty of the surroundings. They should really think about investing in some streetlights here. The electric hum and fluorescent orange glare might have made this feel less like a walk home after a first date than the moonlight and the sound of the sea.

All he’d intended to do was put her mind at ease that the people here weren’t perhaps as...duplicitous as those she may have encountered recently. Instead, those careless few words had given away his less-than-platonic thoughts about having her here. Now he was watching her in the dim light of the doorway, pouting and tracing the outline of her lips with her fingertips.

‘What are you doing?’ He cocked his head to one side, fixated by her fascinating courtship display. If this was designed to pique his interest even further, it was working. His whole body was standing to attention as he followed the soft lines of her mouth, envying the manicured nail that got to touch them.

‘Just checking my lips are still there since I can’t feel them any more.’ She poked her pink tongue out, parting her lips to dampen them, leaving them moist and a temptation too great to ignore any longer.

He stepped forward to give her a soft peck on the lips. Enough to satisfy his curiosity but insufficient to quell the rising swell of desire inside.

If he didn’t break away soon this would change from a simple goodnight kiss into something steamier and liable to offend Miriama. Especially as Emily wasn’t protesting against this.

‘Yup. They’re still there. Goodnight, Emily.’ He turned his back on her and walked away so he couldn’t see the dazed look in her eyes and her still-parted lips, although the sight and taste of her would probably be seared in his brain forever.

He ditched all thoughts of going to bed and chose the path back down to the beach instead. There was no point trying to go to sleep when adrenaline was pulsing through his whole body. That had been a dumb move, an impulsive one, one born of pure instinct and lack of judgement. He’d wanted to kiss her so he had, without any thought to the consequences of his actions. That spur-of-the-moment thinking was fine when it came to picking a new place to visit where no one but him would come a cropper if he made the wrong decision. When it came to kissing emotionally fragile divorcees related to his best friend it had the potential to get messy.

He lifted a pebble from the beach and threw it, watching it skim the surface of the water before disappearing into the darkness along with his common sense. He pitched another and another, venting his anger at himself in the only way possible without punching something. In the end he stripped off his clothes and chucked himself into the sea to cool off. Late-night skinny-dipping had often been a way for him to unwind but tonight it was his attempt to cleanse himself of his transgression. He didn’t kiss women because he’d made an emotional connection with them, he kissed them because he wanted to. This was a woman he was going to be working with closely for the next two weeks and he was in serious trouble if he couldn’t go one evening without controlling himself around her.

He dipped his head below the surface but even as he scrubbed his face with his hands he knew the cold salty water couldn’t wipe away the taste and feel of her lips on his. The damage was already done. All he could do now was add it to the list of mistakes he carried with him and hope Emily didn’t expect anything more from him than medical input and local knowledge. He’d hate to disappoint her as well as himself.

* * *

Emily suspected the local brew had a lot to do with her falling asleep the minute her head touched the pillow and the weird dreams that followed. She spent the night imagining she was stranded on a desert island with a hunky sea captain who looked suspiciously like Sgt Joe Braden coming to her rescue. There was no need to overanalyse it. It was simply her mind trying to make sense of the day’s events, and better than spending all night worrying about what sort of creatures lurked in her small room, or thinking about that kiss.

Joe more than likely left dazed women in his wake with his throwaway kisses every day and would have no clue of the impact it had made on her. It was silly really to obsess over something so fleeting, but up until last night her husband had been the only man she’d ever kissed.

She remembered every tiny detail of the brief connection between her and Joe. The firm but tender pressure of his mouth on hers, the bitter taste of kava lingering on his lips and her body frozen while her veins burned with fire.

The past eighteen months had made her a jaded divorcee so she shouldn’t have had her head turned so easily. She really needed to work on building up those walls if she was being a fangirl over a peck on the lips from a glorified babysitter.

Today was the start of her placement alongside last night’s fantasy figure. There was no room for schoolgirl crushes when she was already on edge about working here. She’d risen with the sun, showered with the aid of a bucket of cold water, breakfasted on bread and jam with Miriama, and checked on Joni, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. As she walked towards the medical centre she tried to focus on the positives instead of the nerves bundling in her stomach.

The sky was the brightest blue she’d ever seen, her skin was warmed by the sun and she’d swapped her usual restrictive formal attire for a strappy pink sundress and flats. She was confident in her work and her capabilities, it was more the personal aspects causing her anxieties. Last night she’d mixed well with the community but that had been in an informal setting. It hadn’t escaped her attention that very few women had been present at the kava ceremony and they’d had to wait until the men had taken their fill before they’d been served. She hoped it was another nod to tradition rather than any prejudiced attitude towards women’s role in society.

Joni had shown her the route back to the medical centre on his way to school and it really was nothing more than a glorified hut on the edge of the village. Thankfully the boy had shown no signs of concussion this morning but in her line of work it was always better to be safe than sorry when it could mean the difference between life and death. It was a shame that same adage had caused the end of her marriage. Playing it safe in her personal life had driven Greg away and made her sorrier than ever for the risks she hadn’t taken.

Still, her love life, or lack of it, wasn’t the sole reason she’d come all this way. Joe Braden certainly wasn’t the risk she wanted to start with. She was here to help a community that didn’t have immediate access to medical facilities, nothing more.

Once she set foot inside the designated workspace she realised how difficult it was going to be to avoid further close contact with him.

‘Welcome to your new clinic, Dr Emily.’ A grinning Joe greeted her, his outstretched arms almost touching both sides of the hut.

The sun shone in behind him through the one window in the room, the rays outlining the tantalising V-shape of his torso through his loose white cotton shirt.

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She hadn’t meant to vocalise her thoughts and for a shameful second she wished this was one time he hadn’t heard her. No such luck.

‘Hey, we gotta work with what we’ve got. I know you’re used to all the mod cons at your practice but you have to remember the context here. Me, you and this equipment donated by the church is more than these people usually have.’

The good news was he thought her only concern was her new working conditions. The bad news was...her new working conditions.

There were two basic camp beds, not unlike the one she’d been put up in at Miriama’s, a couple of medical storage lockers and chairs, some old IV stands and monitors and some sort of curtain on wheels she guessed was supposed to be a privacy screen. There were adequate facilities for routine health checks and not much else but enough to divide the workload and shared space.

‘I think this will work best if we treat this as two different clinics and double the output. You do your thing and I’ll do mine.’ Never the twain to meet and make body contact ever again.

She moved one medical trolley to one side of the room and claimed her half by wheeling the screen between the two beds.

‘If you say so...’ Joe didn’t sound convinced but at least he wasn’t getting precious about this being his territory. Chances were he was happy to block her out anyway after being forced to lead her around by the hand all day yesterday.

‘I do. This is going to work.’ This new set-up enabled her to take back some control of her life here and already made her feel less nauseous about the days ahead.

* * *

This was never going to work. Joe had been here long enough to understand the logistical nightmare of putting her idea into practice. There simply wasn’t enough room to create two viable working spaces, although he didn’t try to dissuade her from attempting it. She’d work it out for herself eventually without him coming across as a tyrant by refusing to cooperate with her plans. It was his fault she felt the need to put a barrier between them in the first place.

After his antics last night he was lucky Peter hadn’t rounded up a posse to turf him off the island for laying lips on his sister. He’d been beating himself up over it all night and this display of skittish behaviour wasn’t easing his conscience at all. By all accounts Emily was recovering from an acrimonious split and definitely wasn’t the sort of woman he should be kissing on a whim.

His one saving grace was their apparent mutual decision not to mention it. Perhaps his casual walk away had lessened the significance of the event. He might start kissing everyone goodbye and make it out to be more of a personal custom rather than the result of his attraction to her. Although there was something intimate about seeing her fuss around the bed where he’d been lying, thinking about her, last night.

He’d been honest when he’d said he preferred the quiet out here to Miriama’s busy household. There was also the added benefit of being able to see the door from his bed. Combat had made him hypervigilant about his surroundings. He wasn’t comfortable in a room where he couldn’t see all entry points. Army life taught a man that concealed entrances were all potential ambushes where the enemy could attack. That level of paranoia had been essential in his survival but it hadn’t left him even after his medical retirement to civilian life. It was simply part of his make-up now and another reason he took to the open road rather than remain cooped up in a two-up, two-down suburban prison.

‘So, do we have any particular schedule, or is this more of an A and E department we’re running?’ Emily encroached on his half of the room, arms folded across her chest.

‘I thought we’d break you in gently today and run more of a walk-in clinic. We can organise something more formal once you’re settled, if you prefer.’ He operated a casual open-door policy every day but he got the impression this GP would expect something more...structured.

Emily struck him as the type who preferred knowing exactly what she’d be doing from one day to the next without any disruption to her routine. The complete opposite of how he lived his life.

‘I’d like to set up a few basic health checks. We could start with taking blood pressure, maybe even a family planning clinic.’ She was drifting off into the realms of her own practice but it was a good idea.

Specific clinics might draw in more of the community for preventative check-ups as opposed to waiting until something serious occurred when it was too late to get help from the mainland.

‘I think the female population might be more open to you too. Perhaps you could think about running a women’s wellness clinic? It’s not every day they have someone to talk to them about sensitive subjects such as sexual health or female-specific cancers.’ It was as much about educating patients as treating them and he would happily defer to Emily in areas where she had more experience.

‘That’s a great idea. I’m sure I can put something together for later this week.’ Her eyes were shining with excitement rather than fear for the first time since they’d met. Well, if he didn’t include last night on her doorstep.

His gaze dropped to her mouth as he relived the memory and the adrenaline rush it had given him. Was giving him. Only her nervous cough snapped him out of his slide back into dangerous territory. He certainly didn’t want to freak her out after they’d just established their boundaries.

‘Good.’

‘Glad we got that sorted.’

It was better all around if they kept their lips to themselves, on different sides of that screen.

* * *

There’d been a steady influx of patients throughout the day, more minor ailments than emergency medicine to deal with. Not that she was complaining. Coughs and colds were manageable and it meant she didn’t have to call on her colleague for an extra pair of hands. She had, however, handed out a vast amount of paracetamol and antibiotics, not to mention sticking plasters. It was probably a combination of not having these drugs readily available and the novelty of a new, female doctor in residence. At least it showed she’d been accepted in her role and she’d kept busy. That was better than sitting fretting in the corner with nothing but tumbleweeds straying into her section of the clinic. Worse, she’d have had time to overanalyse that kiss some more. Every time he so much as looked in her direction her body went up in flames at the memory. While she was investigating the swollen glands of a pensioner she wasn’t thinking about Joe. Much.

‘Say “Ah” for me.’ She bent over the side of the bed to peer into her patient’s mouth and felt a nudge against her backside.

She turned around to read the Riot Act to whoever it was getting handsy with her when she saw the shadow on the other side of the curtain. Joe was innocently tending his patient too and proving that having little room to manoeuvre was going to be an issue if the butt-bumping became a regular occurrence. It mightn’t faze him but she was finding it pretty distracting.

‘Your tonsils are quite inflamed but it’s nothing a course of antibiotics won’t clear up.’

She heard Joe prescribe the same treatment she’d been dishing out all day. It wasn’t unusual for viruses to spread like wildfire in such a small community and she was glad of the extra supplies she’d brought with her. They were going to need them, along with the hand sanitiser and vitamin tablets she’d be using to prevent succumbing to it herself. The last thing she needed was Joe having to tend her too.

If the claustrophobic room wasn’t hot enough, the thought of her next-door neighbour mopping her fevered brow was enough to bring on the vapours.

Emily moved closer to the oscillating fan before the heat in her cheeks eroded her camouflage make-up and caught sight of a young woman running up the path with a baby in her arms.

‘Help! She’s not breathing!’

The baby, no more than nine or ten months, was conscious but not making a sound, even though her limbs were flailing in a panic. Not hearing a baby cry in this situation was heart-stopping for her too, indicating the child’s airway was completely blocked.

‘Give her to me. Quick.’

The child’s lips and fingernails were already turning blue but there was no visible sign of obstruction in her mouth.

Joe was at her side in the blink of an eye. ‘What happened?’

‘She... We were eating breakfast. She grabbed some bread off my plate. Is she going to be okay?’

Emily slid one arm under the baby’s back so her hand cradled the head. With her other arm placed on the baby’s front, she gently flipped the tiny patient so she was lying face down along her other forearm. She kept the head supported and lower than the bottom and rested her arm against her thigh for added support. With the heel of her hand she hit the baby firmly on the back between the shoulder blades, trying to dislodge whatever was stuck in there.

Delivering a blow to such a small body wasn’t easy to do without guilt but the pressure and vibration in the airway was often enough to clear it.

Unfortunately, after the recommended five back blows there was no progress. Time was of the essence as the lack of oxygen to the brain would soon become critical. She rushed over to lay the baby on the bed, paying no mind as Joe kicked the screen away so he had room to assist. He cradled the infant’s head, murmuring soothing words for child and mother as Emily started chest thrusts.

With two fingertips she pushed inwards and upwards against the breastbone, trying to shift the blockage. She waited for the chest to return to its normal position before she repeated the action. Her skin was clammy with perspiration as she fought to help the child to breathe. If this didn’t work they’d run out of options.

Joe reached out to touch her arm. ‘I’ve done a few tracheostomies in my time if it comes to it.’

He was willing to step up to the plate with her and she found that reassuring. She’d never performed one and hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The idea of making an incision for a tube into the windpipe of one so small was terrifying.

‘Thank you.’

With her surgical inexperience and the primitive facilities she was glad to have the backup but it was absolutely the last resort. His calm demeanour in the face of a crisis helped her to centre herself again and deliver another chest thrust.

She checked inside the mouth again. If this didn’t work she would repeat the cycle before letting Joe take over. After another chest thrust she felt movement beneath her fingers and heard a small cry.

‘You’ve got it!’ Joe’s shout confirmed her success and she stopped so he could retrieve the chunk of bread causing the trouble.

The colour slowly returned to the baby’s face and Emily had never been so relieved to hear a child cry.

‘Thank you. Thank you.’ The weeping mother alternated between hugging them and stroking her daughter’s face.

‘I just want to sound her chest.’ Emily unhooked her stethoscope from around her neck so she could listen to the baby’s heartbeat and make sure there was no resulting damage from the trauma. Her lungs were certainly in good order as she raged her disapproval.

Once she’d carried out her checks and made sure all was well, she gave the relieved mother the go-ahead to comfort her child.

‘I think I need to keep you all under observation for a while. Emily, if you don’t mind, I’m going to break into that stash of tea and biscuits I saw you put in your locker earlier. We all need it for shock.’ Joe’s worried frown had evened out into a relieved smile to match her own. She sat down on the bed and waited for the much-needed cup of tea, still feeling a tad shaky herself after the ordeal.

Having a partner here mightn’t be all bad. He’d let her take the lead today while still providing support, and tea, when she’d needed it. It made practical sense for them to work together. If only she’d stop overreacting to the slightest body contact. And staring at his backside as he bent down to retrieve her precious cure-all.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I THINK WE deserve a break,’ Joe waved off their first emergency patient and her mother at the door once they were sure she had fully recovered.

‘I was under the impression we’d just had one.’ While it had all been very dramatic and draining, saving lives was part of their job. It shouldn’t be an excuse to shut up shop and act unprofessionally. If anything it highlighted the need for them to keep to a schedule so people knew where to reach them at any given time.

‘Even busy doctors are entitled to a lunch break. Are you telling me you don’t take one back home?’ His raised eyebrow and smirk dared her to deny it.

‘Of course I take my regulation breaks. Just not usually all at once.’ She omitted to mention she took a packed lunch and did her paperwork through those breaks since it made her sound as if she had no life outside work.

He made a derisory ‘pfft’ sound through his teeth. ‘Ten minutes off our feet, keeping a baby under observation, isn’t a real break. We need a proper time out to de-stress before our next patients, otherwise how can we do our jobs effectively? You need to learn how to go with the flow, Emily.’

His cheeky wink only served to irritate her further.

‘I thought that’s what I was doing.’ The sigh of self-pity was entirely justified, she thought, after coming all the way out here and taking part in everything thrown at her thus far. If she let herself get carried away too much there was a danger she’d end up completely lost at sea.

‘It’s lunch, Emily. It’s not a big deal.’

It would seem silly to him but in her head it translated to something much bigger—ditching their responsibilities for their own gratification. That was exactly what Greg had done and she’d been the one left to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t a situation she intended to re-create any time soon.

‘What about cover? We can’t abandon our post here and leave people without adequate care.’

‘We can put a note on the door but, honestly, we won’t be that hard to track down if something happens. Yasi Island has survived all this time without us and I’m sure they’ll cope over one lunchtime.’ He was already scribbling on a piece of paper now he’d made her concerns seem ridiculous.

She was here for two weeks, had treated one emergency patient so far, and was trying to avoid a shared break under the cover of her ‘they can’t live without me’ excuse. It was no wonder he wasn’t buying it. This was about him, and her fear of spending time with him, and nothing else. She had to get over it or the next fortnight was going to be hell.

‘Is there some place we can buy lunch? I don’t recall seeing any fast-food restaurants nearby.’ Her tongue-in-cheek comment was intended to make her seem less of a jobsworth but the practicalities of his proposal were no less important to her. While it was refreshing not to have a coffee shop or burger joint on every inch of land, there was also a distinct lack of grocery outlets. She had literally nothing to bring to the table and it wouldn’t be polite to help herself to Miriama’s meagre provisions.

‘Lack of refrigeration is a problem on the island when the only electricity available is via the odd generator here and there so most of the food is fresh. There’s none of your fast-frozen, pre-packed, no-taste, processed muck here. The gathering of food is a communal effort, as is eating it. There’ll be no shortage of hosts to take lunch with.’ He pinned the note to the door and hovered, clearly waiting for her to leave with him.

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