CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

Tempted by Dr Morales
Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

EPILOGUE

Copyright

Dear Reader

As I wrote Juan and Cate’s story it was never my intention to do two linked books. I adored Juan, and loved following his journey, but while speaking about my plot with my writing friend Fiona McArthur she said, ‘I think you love Harry too.’

Is it possible to love two heroes at once?

Please don’t think less of me, but my answer is YES!

They have both known tragedy, but in very different ways, and they both make me laugh. The funniest thing for me, while writing this, was that I discovered beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Neither of my heroines remotely fancied the other’s hero.

Their creator did, though! :)

I hope you enjoy their stories.

Happy reading!

Carol xxx

CHAPTER ONE

‘SORRY, JUAN, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ Cate Nicholls stopped twisting a long brown curl around her finger and cringed at the sound of Juan’s deep, heavily ac- cented—but clearly sleepy—voice when he answered the phone.

‘It is no problem. Is that you, Cate?’

‘Yes.’ She blushed a little that Juan had recognised her voice. He had only done a few locum shifts at the Melbourne Bayside Hospital emergency department, but the tension between them sizzled. Cate had tried everyone she could think of before finally accepting Harry’s suggestion and phoning Juan to see if he could come in. A fully qualified anaesthetist from Argentina, he was travelling around the world for a year or two and was as sexy-as-sin as a man could possibly be and still remain popular. ‘I’m really sorry to have disturbed you. Were you working last night?’

‘No.’

‘Oh!’ Cate glanced up at the clock—it was two p.m., why on earth would he still be in bed? Then Cate heard the sound of a female voice and cringed again as Juan told whoever the woman was that he took three sugars in his coffee. Then his silken voice returned to Cate.

‘So, what can I do for you?’

‘Sheldon called in sick and we haven’t been able to get anyone else in to cover him.’

‘Does Harry know that you’re calling me?’

Cate laughed—Harry, one of the senior emergency department consultants, went into sulking mode whenever Juan was around; he was still annoyed that Juan had knocked back his offer of a three-month contract to work in the department. ‘It was Harry who suggested that I call you.’

‘So, what time do you want me to come in?’

‘As soon as you can get here.’ Cate looked out at the busy emergency department. ‘It’s really starting to fill up…’ She paused for a moment as Harry said something. ‘Could you hold on, please, Juan?’ Cate called out to Harry, ‘What did you say?’

‘Tell Juan that even though we really need him to get here as soon as possible, he can stop for a haircut on the way if he feels so inclined!’

Juan’s shaggy long black hair, unshaven appearance and relaxed dress sense drove Harry crazy and Cate was smiling as she got back to her conversation with Juan. ‘I assume that you heard that?’

‘I did,’ Juan answered. ‘Tell Harry that he loves me really.’ Cate listened as Juan yawned and stretched and she tried not to think about him in bed, naked, at two in the afternoon. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll just have a quick shower and I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘Thanks, Juan.’ Cate hung up the phone and wrote his name on the board. Harry glanced over and gave a quick shake of his head.

‘If ever there was a man inappropriately named, it’s Dr Morales,’ Harry said, and Cate had to laugh. Juan had quite a reputation, and even just writing his name down would have a few staff scurrying off to check their make-up and hair.

Cate refused to.

Washing her hands before heading back out to the patients, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Yes, her shoulder-length hair could do with being re-tied and her serious hazel eyes might look better with a slick of mascara, but she simply refused to make that effort for Juan.

She wasn’t about to play with fire.

With three older brothers who had all been wild, to say the least, not a lot shocked the rather sensible Cate, but Juan managed to at times—either with his daredevil sports or with the endless women he briefly bedded. He raised more than a few eyebrows when he happily regaled his colleagues with tales of his trip around Australia, but what shocked Cate most was the internal fight she was having to put up to not simply give in to that sensual smile and dive headfirst into his bed.

They had hit the ground flirting but then Cate had backed off—soon realising that Juan and his rather reprobate ways were far more than she could handle.

Cate had returned from two weeks’ annual leave, newly single after breaking up with her boyfriend of more than two years, and her stomach had turned over at the very sight of Juan. She’d never had such a violent reaction to anyone and, foolishly, she had told herself she was just testing out her flirting wings on the sexy locum, just indulging in a little play flirt the first time they had met.

Cate had never really thought he’d ask her to join him for a drink that night, though his eyes had said bed.

She still burnt at the memory of their first meeting—the rush that had come as she’d met his grey eyes, the desire to say yes, to hell with it all, for once to give in and choose to be reckless. Instead, she had refused his offer politely and, in the few times she’d seen him since then, Cate had played things down—denied the attraction that sizzled between them and tried her best to keep things strictly about work.

‘Juan is a very good doctor, though,’ Cate reminded Harry, because even if Juan was a bit of a rake, there was no disputing that fact.

‘Yes, but his talent’s wasted,’ Harry said, but then sighed. ‘Maybe I’m just envious.’

‘I’ve never met a more talented emergency doctor than you,’ Cate said, and she meant it. Harry was a fantastic emergency doctor as well as a highly renowned hand surgeon, only it wasn’t Juan’s medical talent that Harry was referring to.

‘I meant maybe I’m envious of Juan’s freedom, his take-it-or-leave-it attitude. He actually doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks. It would be lovely just to work one or two shifts a week and spend the rest of the time kicking back!’ Harry gave a wry smile. ‘But, then, Juan doesn’t have four-year-old twins to worry about. Make that, Juan doesn’t have anything to worry about.’

‘Are things not getting any better?’ Cate asked. She liked Harry a lot and had been devastated for him when his wife had been brought in last year after a car crash. Jill had died two weeks later in ICU, leaving Harry a single father to his young twins, Charlotte and Adam.

‘The nanny just handed in her notice,’ Harry said. ‘Another one!’

Cate gave a sympathetic groan but Harry just rolled his eyes and headed back out to deal with the patients. ‘It will sort itself out,’ Harry said.

‘Ooh!’ Kelly smiled when she saw Juan’s name up on the board. ‘That just brightened up my afternoon! With a bit of luck Juan will come out for drinks with us tonight after work.’ Kelly winked.

‘I’m sure that he will,’ Cate said. ‘I can’t make it, though.’

‘Come on, Cate,’ Kelly pushed. ‘You said that you would. It’s Friday night, you can’t sit around moping about Paul…’

‘I’m not moping about Paul. When I said that I’d come out, I didn’t realise that I was working in the morning,’ Cate lied.

‘But you said that you’d drive,’ Kelly reminded her. ‘It’s still a week till payday.’

Yes, Cate thought, she had said she’d drive but that had been before she had known Juan would be working into the evening—he wasn’t exactly known for turning down a night out.

Juan worked to live rather than lived to work—that had been his explanation when he had irked Harry by turning down his job offer. Juan had told Harry that he would prefer to work casual shifts at various Mel-bourne hospitals rather than be tied to one place. And, given he only worked one or two shifts a week, it had been thanks but, no, thanks from Juan. Cate had been surprised that Harry had even offered him the role.

He was, though, an amazing doctor.

He was amazing, Cate conceded to herself as she went to help Kelly make up some fresh gurneys and do a quick tidy of the cubicles.

Juan was also the last complication she needed.

Still, she put his impending arrival out of her mind, just glad to have the doctor shortage under control for now.

‘Where’s Christine?’ Cate asked as she stripped a gurney and gave it a wipe down before making it up with fresh linen.

‘Guess,’ Kelly answered. ‘She’s hiding in her office. If you do get the job, please don’t let that ever be you!’

Cate was soon to be interviewed for the role of nurse unit manager and it was fairly certain that the position would be hers. Lillian, the director of acute nursing, had practically told her so. Cate was already more hands on with the patients than most of the associate nurse unit managers, and if she did get the role she had no intention of hiding herself away in the office or going over the stock orders to try and save a bean. It had also been heavily hinted that, after Christine’s haphazard brand of leadership, the powers that be wanted a lot more order in Emergency—and it had been none-too-subtly pointed out that the nurses were not there to babysit Harry’s twins.

If she did get the job, Cate knew there was going to be a lot to deal with.

‘Is this cubicle ready?’ Abby, who was doing triage, popped her head in. ‘I’ve got a gentleman that needs to be seen.’

‘Bring him in,’ Cate said. ‘Kelly, if you could carry on sorting out any empty cubicles, that would be great.’

Kelly nodded and headed off and Cate took the handover as they helped the painfully thin gentleman move from the wheelchair to the gurney. His wife watched anxiously.

‘This is Reece Anderson,’ Abby introduced. ‘He’s thirty-four years old and has recently completed a course of chemotherapy for a melanoma on his left thigh. Reece has had increasing nausea since this morning as well as abdominal pain.’

‘He didn’t tell me he was in pain till lunchtime.’ There was an edge to his wife’s voice. ‘I thought the vomiting was the after effects of the chemo.’

‘Okay, Reece.’ Cate introduced herself. ‘I’m going to help you to get into a gown and take some observations and then we shall get you seen just as soon as we can.’ Reece was clearly very uncomfortable as well as dehydrated, and there was also considerable tension between him and his wife.

‘The heat has made this last round of treatment unbearable,’ his wife said. ‘We don’t have air-conditioning.’ She looked more tense than the patient. ‘I’m Amanda, by the way.’

‘Hi, Amanda. Yes, I’m sure the heat isn’t helping,’ Cate said as she looked at Reece’s dry lips and felt his skin turgor. ‘We’ll get a drip started soon.’

Melbourne was in the grip of a prolonged heat wave and more patients than usual were presenting as dehydrated. Cate had been moaning about the heat and lack of sleep herself, but to imagine being unwell and going through chemotherapy made her rethink her grumbles.

‘Why don’t you go home?’ Reece suggested to his wife as, between retches, Cate helped him undress. ‘I could be here for ages.’

‘I’ve told you, I’m not going home. I don’t want to leave you till I know what’s happening.’ Amanda’s response was terse.

‘You have to pick up the kids from school.’

‘I’m going to ring Stella and let her know what’s going on. She can get them…’

‘Just go home, will you?’ Reece snapped.

Cate looked over at Amanda and saw that she was close to tears.

‘Just leave,’ Reece said.

‘Oh, I might just do that!’ Amanda’s voice held a challenge and Cate guessed this wasn’t the first time they’d had this row. ‘I’m going to ring Stella and ask her to pick them up.’

Amanda walked out of the cubicle and Reece rested back on the pillows as Cate took his baseline observations. ‘I can’t believe I’m back in hospital. Amanda should be sorting out the children, not me.’

Cate didn’t comment; instead, she headed out and had a brief word with Harry, who was working with Kelly on a critical patient who had just arrived. He said he would get there just as soon as he could but, given how long the wait might be, Harry asked if Cate could take some bloods and start an IV.

Reece was pretty uncommunicative throughout but, as she went to leave, finally he asked a question. ‘Do you think it’s the cancer spreading?’

‘I think it’s far too early to be speculating about anything,’ Cate said. ‘We’ll get these bloods off and a doctor will be in just as soon as possible.’

While she had sympathy for Reece and could guess how scared he must be, Cate’s heart went out to Amanda when she found her crying by the vending machine.

‘Come in here,’ Cate offered, opening up an interview room to give Amanda some privacy. The interview rooms were beyond dreary, painted brown and with hard seats and a plastic table, but at least they were private. ‘I know you must be very worried but it’s far too early to know what’s going on.’

‘I can deal with whatever’s going on health-wise,’ Amanda said. ‘We’ve been dealing with it for months now. It’s Reece that I can’t handle—his moods and constantly telling me to leave him alone.’

‘It must be terribly hard,’ Cate offered, wishing she could say more.

‘It’s nearly impossible.’ Amanda shook her head with hopelessness. ‘I’m starting to think that maybe he really doesn’t want me around.’

‘I doubt that,’ Cate replied.

‘So do I.’ Amanda took a drink of coffee and slowly started to calm down—all she had needed was a short reprieve. ‘You know, if that really is what he wants, then tough! I’m not going to walk away,’ Amanda said, draining her drink and screwing up the cup as she threw it into the bin. ‘Like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.’ Amanda wiped her eyes and blew her nose then walked back to be with her husband.

Cate was wondering if she should try and find the intern to see Reece, though she did want someone more senior; then she considered calling in a favour from one of the surgical team and asking them to come down without an emergency doctor’s referral, but then she saw Juan walk in.

He really was the most striking man Cate had ever seen. His tall, muscular frame was enhanced by the black Cuban-heeled boots that he wore. Today he was wearing black jeans with a heavily buckled belt and a grey and black shirt that was crumpled. His black hair was long enough that it could easily be tied back, but instead it fell onto his broad shoulders and, fresh from the shower, his hair left a slight damp patch on his shirt.

Cate’s first thought on seeing him wasn’t relief that finally there was an extra pair of hands and she could get Reece seen quickly.

Instead, as always, he begged the question—how on earth did she manage to say no to that? He was sex on long legs certainly, but more than that he made her smile, made her laugh. Juan just changed the whole dynamics of the place.

‘You made good time!’ Cate said, as he came over and she caught the heady whiff of Juan fresh from the shower.

‘I got a lift.’

Ah, yes, Cate reminded herself, he’d had company when she’d called. Juan didn’t have a car, he wasn’t in any one place long enough for that, so instead he used public transport or, more often than not, he ran to work and treated everyone to the delicious sight of him breathless and sweaty before he headed for the staff shower.

‘Where would you like me to start?’ he asked. Juan was always ready to jump straight into work.

‘Cubicle four,’ Cate said, giving him a brief background on the way. She saw Reece’s and Amanda’s eyes widen just a fraction as a very foreign, rather uncon-ventional-looking doctor entered the cubicle, yet Juan was so good with patients that within a moment he had Reece at ease.

Juan put one long, booted foot on the lower frame of the gurney and leant in and chatted with Reece about his medical history and symptoms before standing up straight.

‘Can I borrow your stethoscope?’ he asked Cate.

‘There’s one on the wall,’ Cate said. There usually wasn’t but the rather meticulous Cate had prepared the cubicle herself.

‘I can’t hear very well with them,’ Juan said. ‘I prefer yours.’

‘I know! You took it home with you last time you borrowed it.’

‘I brought it back,’ he pointed out, but he took down one of the cheap hospital-issue ones and started listening to Reece’s chest.

He cursed in Spanish and even Reece gave a small smile. ‘They are useless. I should have brought mine but you said it was so busy that I was rushing to get here…’ He winked at his patient and then Juan’s full lips twitched into a small smile of triumph as Cate handed over her stethoscope.

‘That’s better,’ Juan said.

Reece was soon back to feeling miserable as Juan examined him. He reduced Amanda to tears again when she tried to answer a question for him. ‘I can speak for myself.’

‘Okay,’ Juan said, ‘I am going lay you down and examine your stomach.’ He turned and smiled at Amanda. ‘Could you excuse us, please?’

Juan carefully examined his patient’s abdomen as Reece tried to hide his grimaces.

‘Reece…’ Juan looked down. ‘How long have you been sitting on this?’

‘Since this morning.’

‘Reece?’ The doubt was obvious in Juan’s voice.

‘Last night…’ Juan raised his eyebrows but said nothing, simply waited until Reece changed his story again. ‘I woke up in pain the night before.’

‘Is that one true?’ Juan checked, and Reece nodded. ‘Okay, I have to do a rectal examination.’ As Cate helped Reece roll to his side, he was weary and close to crying. ‘I’m sorry, Reece,’ Juan said. ‘I know it must be awful. It won’t take long.’

He was so good with the patients. He never told them not to feel embarrassed, or that he’d done it a thousand times before; he just quickly examined him and as Reece was rolled onto his back again, Juan thanked him for his co-operation.

‘Good man,’ he said, and Reece nodded.

‘What do you think is going on?’ Reece asked, and this was where Juan was different from most doctors. This was where he was clearly senior because he gave Reece his tentative diagnosis.

‘Your history makes things more complicated, of course…’ Juan said. ‘But I think you have appendicitis. I am going to ring the surgeons and get you seen as a priority.’

‘Can I have something for the pain?’

‘They don’t like to give analgesia without first seeing the patient for themselves so they can get a clear picture.’ Juan repeated what Cate had heard many times before, but again he showed just how experienced and confident he was as he continued speaking. ‘Still, I will try bribing them by ordering a quick ultrasound while we wait for the bloods to come back. Hopefully I can give you something for the pain.’

It was still incredibly busy out in the department. Juan rang the surgeons and had a long discussion, then as he wrote up some analgesia he rang and arranged an ultrasound.

‘Give Reece this for the pain and vomiting,’ Juan said. ‘I’ll ring the lab and get the bloods pushed through. If we can get him round now for an ultrasound, the surgeons should be here by the time he comes back.’

‘Sure.’ Cate sorted out the drugs and then rang Chris-tine and told her that she was taking a patient for an ultrasound and would she please come out of her office and work on the floor.

‘That will go down well,’ Kelly commented, picking up the constantly ringing phone.

‘Do you know what?’ Cate answered. ‘I really don’t care.’

Kelly held out the phone for Juan. ‘A call for you.’ He went to take it. ‘Martina,’ Kelly added.

Both women shared a look as he said a few terse words in Spanish and then promptly hung up. ‘I spoke with Christine.’ Juan looked at Cate. ‘Did she not pass it on?’

‘Pass what on?’

‘I have had to speak to the nursing managers at the other hospitals where I work. Could you ask the nursing and reception staff not to put through certain personal calls for me?’

‘Certain?’ Cate checked.

‘From Martina.’

‘But if it’s your mum or the girl you met last night…’ Cate tried to keep the edge from her voice, but she felt like a secretary running his little black book when Juan was on call—women were ringing all the time ‘…then we’re to put them through?’

‘Okay, for all personal calls, just ask the staff to say they are not sure if Juan is working and that you’ll take a message and leave it for him. I am just asking if the staff can be a bit more discreet.’

‘The staff are discreet, Juan, but there’s a difference between being discreet and rude. When it’s clearly a personal call…’ She took a breath. ‘Fine, I’ll speak to everyone.’

Juan got back to his notes and did not look up. It would simply open up a can of worms if he explained things.

He didn’t want to explain things.

That was the reason he was travelling after all, no need for explanations, no past, no rules—just fun. Ex-cept Cate didn’t want fun. She’d made that clear, even if not quite from the start.

He was going to do this shift and then go home.

Juan had just over two weeks to go in the country.

Had Cate said yes when he’d first asked her out they could have had an amazing few months.

Instead, she had made it very clear she wasn’t interested in a brief fling with him.

She was interested, though.

Juan could feel it, he could smell it, he could almost taste it, but Cate refused to give in to it.

He wasn’t going to try again.

Cate was a serious thing, a curious thing, and she was quietly driving him insane.

‘Are you coming out for drinks tonight, Juan?’ Kelly asked.

‘Not tonight,’ Juan said, and he heard Cate’s small exhalation of relief.

Oh, well, Juan thought as he carried on writing up his notes.

She could relax soon.

He’d be gone.

CHAPTER TWO

‘HOW ARE THINGS?’ Juan came in to speak with Reece soon after he came back from ultrasound. The surgeons had examined him there and had ordered antibiotics and changed his IV regime, and Reece was now being prepared rapidly for Theatre.

‘You tell me,’ Reece said. ‘They said that appendicitis was serious in someone with my immune system.’

‘That’s why they’re starting you on all these antibiotics. We need to get you up to Theatre before it perforates,’ Juan said.

‘I shouldn’t have left it,’ Reece said. ‘I thought it was cancer.’

‘Of course you did,’ Juan said, ‘but it is an appendix flare-up nevertheless. I had a pregnant woman just last week…’ He didn’t continue, there was a lot to be done.

Cate was trying to sort out the antibiotics that the surgeons wanted. It had been incredibly tense during his ultrasound, Reece telling Amanda over and over that she should just go home. Cate had, on her way back from Ultrasound, suggested that Amanda wait in the interview room, just to have a break from the snipes from her husband.

‘Cate, can I see Reece’s IV regime?’ Juan asked, and then spoke to the patient. ‘Though you need to be operated on, I want you to have a bolus of fluids before you go up.’

He was so direct he overrode the surgeons’ IV regime with a stroke of his pen.

Juan saw Cate’s rapid blink—not many people would have changed Jeff Henderson’s plan. ‘I just spoke to him and discussed some changes,’ Juan said. ‘Reece needs to be better hydrated before he’s operated on.’

‘I bet that went down well,’ Cate said, repeating Kelly’s sentiment from a little while ago.

‘Jeff was fine.’ Juan shrugged. ‘And, like you, I really don’t care if I offend at times. This is better for the patient.’

He handed over the chart and then spoke to Reece. ‘I’m going to put another IV in you so that we can push fluids in and then I shall speak with your wife.’

‘Can you tell her that there’s no point hanging around?’

‘She’s not going to want to go home while you’re in Theatre,’ Cate pointed out as she added the medication to the flask.

‘I just don’t want her here,’ Reece snapped. ‘I don’t want to be a burden.’

‘Then stop being one,’ Cate said, and Juan’s head jerked up from the IV he was putting in. He’d heard a lot of straight talking—emergency nurses were very good at it—but hearing what Cate had to say to Reece made him falter momentarily.

‘The illness and the treatment you are on must be awful, for both of you,’ Cate continued to Reece, ‘but I can think of nothing worse than loving someone who is sick and being repeatedly told that they don’t want you there, that you’d be better off without them.’

‘I think she’d be happier—’ Reece attempted, but Cate didn’t let him finish.

‘I’m quite sure Amanda would be happier if you graciously accepted her love and affection and her need to take care of you, to help you both get through this.’

Juan headed over to the sharps box. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples, feel the roar of blood in his ears, and, for reasons of his own, he wished he hadn’t heard that, yet he felt compelled to respond.

‘She’s right.’ Juan’s voice was husky and he cleared his throat before continuing. ‘Cate is right, Reece. If your wife didn’t want to be here for you then she’d have gone long ago.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Cate…’ Juan turned ‘…could you go and speak with Amanda and let her know what is happening and then bring her in?’

‘Sure,’ Cate answered. ‘Reece, are you okay with me letting her know that you have appendicitis?’

Reece nodded. Clearly Cate’s words had had an impact on him because he let out a sigh and lay back on his pillows, but as she walked out of the cubicle he met suddenly serious grey eyes. Only then did Reece realise that there was more to come.

‘Right,’ Juan said to his patient. ‘While we’ve got a moment, I’ll tell you exactly what I do know.’

By the time Cate returned from taking Reece to Theatre, the critically injured patient had been moved as well and the place was settling down. All the staff worked hard to clear the backlog and at six Juan looked up at the clock and spoke to Harry.

‘Why don’t you go home?’

She saw Harry hesitate. There were other doctors on but no one particularly senior.

Except the locum just happened to be Juan.

‘Go and have dinner with your children,’ Juan said. ‘I’m sure we’ll cope.’

Juan would more than cope.

Everyone knew it.

‘You’re sure?’ Harry checked. ‘Dr Vermont won’t get here till ten.’

‘Of course,’ Juan said. ‘Anyway, the nightclubs don’t really get going till midnight.’

Harry gave a wry smile and headed for home, and Cate did her best to avoid the six feet three of testosterone who sat and worked his way through a huge bunch of grapes between seeing patients.

Relieved that Juan wouldn’t be joining them on their night out, Cate had relented and agreed to drive her friends, but before she headed off to get ready she did have a question for Juan. He was sitting writing up his notes before handing over to Dr Vermont.

‘What did you say to Reece?’

‘Reece?’

‘The appendicitis.’

‘I’m not with you,’ Juan said, still writing his notes.

‘He was a whole lot nicer to Amanda when we came back in. He even thanked her for being there for him when I took him up to Theatre.’

‘He must have listened to what you said to him.’ Juan shrugged and Cate walked off with a slight frown. Yes, she had been direct while talking to Reece but something had happened while she’d been speaking with Amanda. She was sure of it, because they had returned to a very different man—and Cate was positive Juan had had something to do with it.

She just had no idea what.

The night staff came on duty and Cate handed over the patients, then headed to the changing rooms, where there was a fight for the mirror.

‘I thought Christine was coming?’ Kelly said. ‘She said she was a little while ago.’

‘No.’ Abby laughed. ‘When she found out Juan wasn’t coming, Christine changed her mind, of course. He’s made it obvious that he’s no longer interested—you’d think that she’d have taken the hint by now.’

Cate changed quickly, moaning that her strapless bra dug in and gave her four breasts before pulling on a black halterneck she had bought the previous weekend.

‘Is that new?’ Kelly asked as Cate pulled on a pale lilac skirt.

‘Yep.’ Cate smiled. ‘And so are these!’ She held up the most gorgeous pair of wedges—they were nothing like her usual choice, and had been an absolute impulse buy.

Her first.

Cate did up the straps around her ankles and blinked back sudden tears. She was still in that wobbly post-break-up stage, still trying to work out what had gone wrong, what was wrong.

She’d been happy with Paul, just not happy enough. She had loved him in so many ways, but she still hadn’t been able to give Paul the answer he wanted. The answer everyone wanted! Her parents had been equally shocked when the rather predictable Cate had made a rather unpredictable choice.

Why had she ended it?

‘Because…’ had been her paltry response.

Even Cate didn’t really know why.

Juan tried not to notice when the late staff all emerged from the changing rooms, changed and scented, like a noisy flock of butterflies floating down the corridor—but there was only one who drew the eye.

She had make-up on, not much just enough to accentuate her wary eyes, and her mouth should not be allowed out, unescorted by him, when it shimmered with gloss. A lilac skirt showed off her tanned legs and he did his best not to notice, as they walked past the nurses’ station, her back, which was revealed in a halterneck.

‘I’m not staying long,’ he heard Cate warning her friends as they said goodbye and headed out. ‘I’ve got to be back here in ten hours.’

‘Are you sure you won’t change your mind, Juan?’ Kelly called over her shoulder.

And he should leave well alone. Cate wasn’t, Juan guessed, up to what he had in mind.

Except he couldn’t get her out of his head!

Her words to Reece had lowered his defences, and the scent of her as she walked past, the sight of her bare skin…it was surely worth one more shot?

Juan wanted their time.

‘I might see you there,’ Juan called out to the departing group, and watched her bare shoulders stiffen, watched as she very deliberately didn’t turn round.

As she, still, denied him.

CHAPTER THREE

THE BAR WAS hot and crowded but it was equally hot outside; there was just no escaping the heat.

There was no escaping Juan.

She was terribly aware of him when, about an hour after they’d got there, he arrived.

He came over and bought everyone drinks, but Cate told him that she was happy with her soda water.

‘When are you working with us again, Juan?’ Abby shouted above the noise.

‘I don’t think I am,’ Juan said. ‘I have some shifts already booked in the city.’

‘So this is your leaving do!’ Kelly said.

‘It might be…’

Cate stood there, watching her friends get louder, flirtier and more morose as they realised they might never see him again. By midnight, the night had turned into Juan Morales’s unofficial send-off. So much so that there was now going to be an impromptu party back at his home.

Impromptu might just as well be his middle name, Cate thought as everyone asked her to come along.

‘I’m working tomorrow!’ Cate said it three times, not that anyone listened.

‘It will be fun,’ Abby insisted. ‘Everyone’s going back.’

Half the bar, it would seem, was lined up outside to take taxis to Juan’s as, sober, fed up, tired and with her strapless bra digging into her, Cate headed out to her car.

‘Thank you for this,’ Juan said as he lowered himself into the passenger seat, far too tall for her rather small car. ‘I really should get there first to let people in.’

‘It’s no problem.’ Cate gave a slightly forced smile and then tried to turn it into a friendlier one as a couple of her colleagues and friends climbed into the back seat.

‘You don’t mind giving us a lift, do you, Cate?’ Kelly checked, though not until she’d put her seat belt on.

‘Of course not,’ Cate said, and put the air conditioner on. The blast of cold air was especially welcome a moment later when Juan said, ‘Cate, if you want to have a drink, you are very welcome to stay the night.’

Stay!

At Juan Morales’s apartment for the night!

Cate turned and gave him the most incredulous smile she could muster, before starting the engine. ‘Don’t they have taxis in Argentina, Juan?’

He gave her a shameless smile back and then answered with his deep, heavily accented voice, which had Cate’s stomach flip over on itself. ‘I’m just letting you know that the offer is there.’

The offer had been there for a while now.

‘I’m working at seven tomorrow morning.’

‘You’re staying for a drink, though,’ Juan checked, but Cate answered him with a question of her own.

‘Can you give me directions?’ she said as she pulled out of the car park.

‘Left ahead and then you go down…’ He even managed to give a sexual connotation to the simplest directions, Cate thought, or was it that she was just incredibly aware of him sitting next to her?

Cate glanced over and caught a glimpse of his strong profile. His grey eyes were framed by dark lashes, his nose was straight and he had full lips that smiled easily. There was an exotic streak that seemed to run through every inch of him.

‘Have you had your interview?’ Juan asked.

‘Not yet,’ Cate said, surprised that he’d remembered. ‘There are some external applications as well that they’re going through.’

‘So you would be the unit manager if you get it?’

‘The nurse unit manager,’ Cate corrected as she sat waiting for the traffic lights to change.

‘Wouldn’t you miss working with the patients?’

‘I’d still be working with the patients,’ came Cate’s rather tart response, not that Juan seemed to notice the nerve he had just jarred, or, if he had, he chose to pursue it.

‘Christine doesn’t.’

She turned and met eyes that were more than happy to meet and hold hers. ‘I’m not Christine,’ Cate said, because rumour had it he’d been sleeping with Christine when he’d first arrived and Cate could well believe it. When Cate had come back from annual leave, she’d found Christine in floods of tears in the changing room and it hadn’t been hard to work out why.

‘No,’ Juan said slowly and with a tinge of regret that made her throat tighten at the implication. His next loaded sentence seemed to insist she acknowledge the denied desire that simmered between them. ‘You’re not Christine.’

‘The lights have changed,’ Kelly called from the back.

As the car moved off Juan fiddled with her sound system and Cate cringed in embarrassment as a rather tragic break-up song came on.

‘You should be listening to happier music,’ Juan commented. ‘All that will do is make you feel more miserable.’

‘I’m not miserable at all.’

‘Have you spoken to Paul since the break-up?’ Abby chimed in from the back seat.

‘Of course I have,’ Cate said. ‘It’s all civil.’

‘Which means that it was long overdue,’ Juan commented, and Cate pursed her lips. It was the problem with being the so-called designated driver—you had to listen as things were discussed that generally wouldn’t be.

‘It doesn’t have to be all smashing plates and tears,’ Cate said, but didn’t elaborate. Trust Juan to hit the nail on the head, though. Paul had been upset and uncomprehending at first, yet she had been calm and matter-of-fact once her decision to end it had been made.

Oh, she’d waited for the tears, for torrents of emotion to invade, for all the drama that seemed a necessary part of a relationship break-up to arrive—but they hadn’t. She’d sat in her garden, sipping wine with her neighbour, Bridgette, with more a sense of relief than regret.

Juan was right, the break-up had been overdue.

‘How much longer are you in Australia?’ Kelly asked, and Juan turned a bit in his seat to answer and to chat with the girls in the back.

‘Just over two weeks.’

‘You should stay longer,’ Kelly said.

‘I can’t,’ Juan said, ‘my visa expires the day after I leave.’

‘Would you, though, if you could?’ Kelly persisted.

‘I think it’s maybe time to move on.’

‘Where now?’ Cate asked, and Juan turned back to face the front.

‘Turn right along the beach road and my place is about halfway.’

As she turned, the car jolted and Cate frowned. The car was not responding as it usually did, she could feel the groan of the engine.

‘There’s something wrong with the car,’ Cate said, having appalling visions of breaking down a few metres from Juan’s and, yes, ending up staying the night. The complication of a fling with Juan was something Cate did not need and frantically she looked at the dashboard. ‘It’s in manual…’ Cate frowned but Juan had already worked it out—their hands met at the gearstick and Cate pulled hers away.

‘My fault,’ Juan said, ‘my legs are too long.’ He slotted it back into drive. ‘My knees must have knocked the gearstick.’

God, he was potent. Cate’s fingers were still tingling from the brief touch as she pulled up at his apartment. ‘You are coming in?’ Juan checked as she sat with the engine idling and there was a moment when she wanted to be the taxi martyr and drive off—but rather more than that, yes, she wanted a further glimpse of his world.

‘Sure.’

Juan let them all in and it wasn’t quite what Cate had been expecting—it was a furnished rental apartment but a rather luxurious one with stunning beach views and a huge decking area outside. It was everything the well-heeled traveller needed for a few weeks of fun, Cate thought. Yet, despite the expensive furnishings and appliances, there was an emptiness and sparseness to it—a blandness even, broken only by his belongings.

Temporary.

Like Juan.

‘This is the type of music you should be listening to,’ Juan said, slotting his phone into some speakers. The room filled with music that under different circumstances Cate might want to dance to. Taxis were starting to arrive and, as more hospital personnel filled his home, Juan opened the French doors so that people could party inside or out, and then went to sort out drinks.

‘What do you want, Cate?’

He made no secret that his interest was in her.

‘I’ll get something in a moment,’ Cate said, and asked if she could use the bathroom.

‘Straight down the hall,’ Juan said. ‘And to your left.’

She followed his directions but straight down the hall was his bedroom—the door was open, the bed rumpled and unmade, and for a wild, reckless moment she wanted to give in to his undeniable charm, could almost envision them tumbling on the bed, a knot of arms and legs.

Cate pushed open the bathroom door and let out a breath.

This wasn’t like her at all.

She hadn’t ever really envisioned herself that way with anyone, not even Paul. Bloody Juan had her head going in directions it wasn’t used to. A part of her wanted to stop being sensible, ordered Cate and just give in to the feelings he ignited—to be a little wild and reckless for once. She knew that she was sending him mixed messages, that at times she found herself flirting with him in a way she never had with anybody else.

Cate washed her hands and had to dry them on her top because, of course, he didn’t have hand towels, just a wet beach towel hanging over the shower.

Whoops, there went her mind again, imagining that huge body naked on the other side of the glass shower door.

‘Go home, Cate,’ she said to herself. She was about to do just that, but when she got back to the lounge Juan handed her a large glass filled with ice and some dangerous-looking cocktail.

‘I’m driving,’ Cate reminded him.

‘I know, so I take care to make you something nice—it is right to take care of the designated driver.’

It was fruity, refreshing and delicious, yet she didn’t want to be singled out for the Juan special treatment, didn’t want to be the latest caught in his spotlight, but she knew that she was.

Cate danced a little, chatted with her friends, finished her drink and, having stayed a suitable length of time, when she saw that he was safely speaking with others, she said goodnight to Kelly.

‘Stay for a bit longer,’ Kelly pushed.

‘I’m going to go.’ Cate shook her head and slipped quietly away and headed out to her car.

He really had chosen a lovely spot to live—there were views of the bay to the front and behind was hillside. It all looked so peaceful, it was hard to imagine that across Victoria bush fires were raging, Cate thought, dragging in a breath of the warm, sultry night as she went into her bag for her keys.

‘Cate.’

She jumped a little when she heard Juan call her name. Had she not lingered that second she would have been safely in her car; instead, she had no choice but to turn to him.

‘Where I come from…’ he walked slowly towards her, his boots crunching on the gravel ‘…you thank your host and say goodbye…’

‘I didn’t know you were such a stickler for convention.’

‘I’m not,’ Juan admitted, still walking towards her as she backed herself against the car. ‘Just when it suits me.’

‘Thank you for a lovely night.’

‘And in my country,’ Juan continued, ‘the host would try to persuade you to stay for one more drink, would be offended that you were leaving so soon…’ It was all very casual, except his hand had moved to her cheek and was moving a lock of her hair behind her ear.

‘I’m good at offending people,’ Cate said. ‘There really is no need to take it personally.’

‘Don’t go.’ He smiled. ‘I only asked everyone back to get you here.’

She laughed.

She doubted it.

Actually, no, she didn’t, she believed it. Anything was possible with Juan.

‘I might not be called in to work again,’ he said. ‘So this could be it.’

‘It could be.’

‘I’d have liked to get to know you some more.’

She gave him a half-smile, but it wavered. Cate wanted to get to know him some more too, but for what? He made no secret that in a couple of weeks he would be gone. Juan seemed completely at ease with a brief fling, whereas it just wasn’t in her nature.

Except, yes, she wanted more of Juan.

‘Stay.’

‘Juan…’ Cate just couldn’t do it and she tried to make a joke. ‘I’ve got three brothers and they’ve all warned me about guys like you.’

‘What?’ He frowned.

‘Come on, Juan.’ She loathed how indecent he was. ‘Won’t whoever you were in bed with this afternoon mind?’

‘What?’ he asked again as the frown remained, but then it turned into a wicked smile. ‘That was my cleaning lady,’ he said. ‘I fell asleep on the couch, watching daytime soaps.’ He looked down at her, realised fully then that he hadn’t had sex since he’d dumped Christine, since a certain Cate Nicholls had stepped into his life—how with one turn of his head he’d been very turned on. ‘I love daytime soaps in Australia,’ he said. ‘They are filthy.’

Cate let out a small laugh.

She wasn’t sure she believed him about the cleaning lady, but did it matter?

She wasn’t his mother.

She wasn’t anything and, yes, very soon he’d be gone.

She turned to go, only half-heartedly because he had moved in to kiss her, and not on the cheek.

One kiss couldn’t hurt, Cate told herself.

It was time to have kissed someone else by now, Cate decided as his mouth met hers. Except she’d never known a kiss like it.

It was everything a kiss should be.

It was very slow and measured, his lips light on hers at first, nudging hers into slow movement. His hands crept around her waist and his tongue slipped in and slid around hers, slowly at first, letting her acclimatise herself to the taste of him, and she did, so easily. He tasted of raspberry and vodka and something else too, which Cate couldn’t quite place.

He took things slowly, but not for long. Just as she started to relax, just as she thought she could manage a kiss goodbye with Juan, he breathed into her, shed a low moan into her, pressed into her, pushed in his tongue more deeply, and Cate found her missing ingredient—it was a dash of sin that he tasted of, because no kiss had turned her on so much. The press of his erection made her push her mound into him, the feel of his hot hand on her back had her skin turn to fire.

It wasn’t just her first kiss after Paul, it was the first kiss she’d ever had that could propel her straight to the bedroom. She was kissing him back and with passion; it was still a slow kiss but their tongues danced with suggestion. His hand moved to her breast and how she wished she wasn’t wearing a bra that was too tight and digging in, but a moment later she wasn’t—as easily as that, Juan had undone it. Cate let out a small sigh of relief as her breast fell into his palm and then a moan of bliss as his hand cupped her and stroked.

‘I want you…’ He was at her neck and trailing his mouth down, she was stone-cold sober, yet almost topless and drunk on lust. He kissed back up to her mouth and she could feel the trail of wetness he had left on her chest—and how she wanted him. Her hands moved to his head and she felt the thick, long, jet-black hair that he refused to cut, felt the wedge of muscle of a man it would be so easy to be immoral with, understood exactly why women lost their heads to him, for she was losing hers.

She moved her hand down to his shoulder, her fingers sliding to his neck, but Juan’s hands halted hers and moved them onto his chest. It jolted her, just a little, for in that moment not a fraction of their bodies had seemed out of bounds. Cate had been utterly lost but she returned to common sense and he felt it, their eyes opening together, and she saw the regret in his as she pulled her mouth back.

‘We could be so good together…’ His forehead was resting on hers and she was struggling to get her breath.

Yes, they could be so good together but he would be so bad for her.

Cate wasn’t looking for forever but neither was she looking for one night, or one week.

She simply couldn’t do the casual thing, never had and never could. Could not walk into work tomorrow with everyone knowing she had succumbed to Juan’s undeniable charm.

How she wanted to, though.

How she wanted to give in to the urges that were pulsing through her as much as the music coming from his home, how she wanted to just say, yes, I can handle this. Except, stupid her, her body came attached to a heart that was already a bit bruised and did not need to be shattered by him.

Oh, it would hurt to have him and then not. That much Cate knew.

‘Get over him, Cate!’ Juan said.

She was so over Paul, not that he knew it. Cate did not dare reveal the truth, so she made a wry joke.

‘By getting under you?’

‘No,’ Juan said. ‘I want you on top. I want to watch you come.’

He was bad.

He was dangerous.

He was everything she wanted and yet everything she didn’t.

‘Thanks for a lovely evening.’

‘Would you like to go out tomorrow?’ Juan offered.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Cate…’

So she took a breath and told him, ‘I’m not what you’re looking for.’

‘You don’t know what I’m looking for.’

‘I don’t know what I’m looking for either,’ Cate admitted, ‘but it’s not…’ she tried to think of the right word and she didn’t know how best to say it ‘…you.’

‘Ouch.’

Cate smiled and climbed into her car and caught the lingering fragrance of Juan from when he had been in her vehicle, the expensive note that overrode others.

She knew that she hadn’t hurt him.

Ouch would be sitting in the staffroom in a couple of weeks’ time, hearing who he’d slept with next, or, if they did last the little time he had left in Australia, ouch would be waving him off at the airport. Ouch would be having had him and then trying to move on.

Cate had just ended one serious relationship—a rebound with the name Juan attached to it was heading way too far in the other direction.

She reversed out and waved to him, and, yes, she regretted it plenty. She could see them alone in his bedroom. many times she had envisaged him kicking those boots to the floor and letting herself be a notch on his temporary bed; many times she had wanted to let loose and be as superficial and as laid back about things as Juan.

So clearly she could see it now, could still taste him on her mouth as she drove off, her bra around her waist, her cheeks burning, her hands willing her to turn round and return to him.

Instead, Cate chose safety.

CHAPTER FOUR

JUAN WOUND UP the party and did not invite anybody else to stay the night.

As the last taxi pulled off, he didn’t even look at the clock or tidy up, he just undressed and headed to bed and tried to get Cate Nicholls out of his head.

She was way too serious for him.

Usually, he didn’t want to hear about promotions and brothers and parts of the woman’s history but with Cate somehow he did.

He thought about her hand on his neck, her fingers about to meet the thick scar and, no, he didn’t want her knowing, would far prefer Cate thinking that he was shallow than to open up and confide in her…

That wasn’t what this trip was about, he told himself as he lay there. Caught between awake and asleep, Juan was unsure if the kiss with Cate had been a dream, unsure even if his time in Australia was a mere figment of his imagination. He even wondered if Cate’s words to Reece would disappear the second he awoke and he would find out it was all just another dream—because he was back there again, back in his head, trapped in his mind with a body that refused to obey even the simplest command.

In Juan’s dreams he ran, his feet pounding the warm pavement as he dragged in the humid air.

In dreams, he threaded his beloved motorbike through lush Argentinian hills and made love to every single woman who had ever flirted with him—and there were many, perhaps Cate was one?

In his dreams, Juan jumped off bridges and felt the sting of icy-cold water as he plunged in.

In his dreams, he skied down mountains and did all the things he had never had time to do—Juan’s focus had always been Martina, family and work.

He could hear the nurses, doing the two a.m. rounds, approaching the four-bedded ward, and Juan tried to haul himself out of the memory, tried to get back to kissing Cate, except he couldn’t dictate his dreams and he couldn’t erase his memories, and as the REM stage deepened a very natural reflex occurred.

‘Hey, Juan.’

‘I apologise.’ Juan didn’t need to look at the mirrors placed over his bed to know the sheet was tenting and that he was erect; instead, he stared at the ceiling as Graciela tried to catch his eye. ‘Juan, it’s natural,’ Graciela said. They spoke in Spanish, Graciela, as always, practical—she was nearing retirement and had worked on the spinal unit for years. Graciela was more than used to young men finding themselves paralysed, used to the strange sight of a beautiful, fit body that might never move independently again and the humiliation a new spinal-cord injury patient faced regularly.

Yes, Graciela was kind and practical, it just didn’t help now as she and Manuel rolled him onto his side. Juan was burning with shame in a bed in the Buenos Aires hospital he worked at.

Had once worked at.

Juan didn’t want that part of his life over. Yes, he played upbeat for Martina and his family, insisted if there was a little improvement he could lecture and teach; but tonight the future, one where he could function independently, let alone hold another’s life in his hands, seemed an impossibly long way off.

‘Juan…’ Manuel tried to engage with Juan. ‘We still don’t know the extent of your injury. You have spinal swelling and until…’

Juan closed his eyes. He didn’t want hope tonight, he felt guilty that compared to his roommates there was a thin hope that his paralysis was not permanent; he just wanted to close his eyes and go back to his dreams but he knew he would not get back to sleep, knew that this would be another long night.

‘You need a haircut,’ Graciela commented as she washed his face. ‘Do you want me to arrange one for you?’

‘No.’ Juan made a weak joke. He had been on his way to get his thick black hair trimmed when the accident had happened—it grew fast and he had it trimmed every couple of weeks. Always he had prided himself on looking immaculate, dressing in exquisitely cut suits and rich silk ties. Tonight those days seemed forever gone. ‘I’m not risking that again.’

‘How’s Martina?’ Graciela tried to engage Juan as they started the hourly exercise regime, moving his limbs and feet and hands. Martina had been here until eleven and Juan had pretended to be asleep the last two times the nursing staff had come around. It was important to know what was happening in the patients’ lives as they adjusted to their injuries. ‘Is she still worrying about moving the wedding date?’

There was a long stretch of silence before Juan finally answered, ‘We broke up.’

‘I’m sorry, Juan.’ Graciela looked over at Manuel, who took over the conversation.

‘What happened?’ Manuel asked. He wasn’t being nosey—the mental health of their patients was a priority, and he chatted as he moved Juan’s index finger and thumb together and apart, over and over—as they did every hour—and then moved to rotating his wrist. Both simple exercises might mean in the future Juan could hold a cup, or do up a button, or hold a pen.

‘We just…’ Juan did not want to discuss it, still could not take it in, could not comprehend how every aspect of his life had now changed. ‘It was mutual.’

‘Okay.’ Graciela checked his obs and shared another look with Manuel. ‘I’ll see you a bit later, Juan. Hope-fully you’ll be asleep next time I come around and I won’t disturb you.’

Asleep or not, the exercises went on through the night.

Graciela moved on to the next bed, leaving Manuel to hopefully get Juan to open up a bit. Since his admission Juan had remained upbeat, insisted he was dealing with it, refusing to open up to anyone, and Graciela was worried about him, especially with the news of the break-up. Relationships often ended here; patients pushed loved ones away, or sometimes it was the other way around and the able-bodied partner simply could not cope with a world that had rapidly altered.

‘Hey, Eduard.’ She smiled down at the young man, who gave her a small grimace back and moved his eyes towards Juan’s bed. ‘Is he okay?’

‘He’ll get there.’

For the first time Juan didn’t think he would.

There was one thing more humiliating than a massive erection in full view of the nurses. It was starting to cry and not being able to excuse yourself, not being able to go to another room and close a door, to thump a wall, not even being able to wipe your own snot and tears.

‘Let it out, Juan,’ Manuel said as he covered Juan with a sheet and saw his patient’s face screw up and tears fill Juan’s grey eyes.

‘I…’ He didn’t want to let it out, he had held it all in and he wanted to keep doing so. There was young Eduard in the next bed. He’d only been here for three days and Juan didn’t want to scare him—Juan had been trying to cheer him up today.

He just couldn’t hold it in any more.

The sob that came out was primal, from a place he had never been.

‘Good man,’ Manuel said.

Juan lay there sobbing as Manuel wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He was in hell and humiliated and scared and everything he’d tried not to be.

‘Good man,’ Manuel said, over and over.

He’d been a good man, Juan thought. He’d done everything right, everything had been in place—an amazing career, a loving fiancée. He had been a good man.

‘No more…’ Juan said, incoherent almost as he sobbed.

But there was more and tonight he let it out.

Graciela stood there and wiped Eduard’s tears as they glimpsed for the first time Juan’s desolation and rage, and she swallowed a couple of tears of her own.

All Juan’s roommates cried quietly along with him. Two had been there before, giving in to the grief and the fear in the still of the night, and Eduard soon would. There was no privacy in their worlds right now and all the men had heard the painful exchange between Juan and Martina.

All were with Juan as finally he gave in and wept.

No one was with him, though, when, eighteen months later, Juan woke up in a foreign country, feeling the desolation all over again.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘HOW HAS YOUR week been?’

Cate stopped for a brief chat with her neighbour as both women headed for work. Bridgette and her husband James were both in the police. It was nice being neighbours with fellow shift workers and, over the summer, Bridgette and Cate had spent several afternoons lying in one or the other’s garden and putting the world to rights.

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