Born to a family that was always on the move, TINA BECKETT learned to pack a suitcase almost before she knew how to tie her shoes. Fortunately she met a man who also loved to travel, and she snapped him right up. Married for over twenty years, Tina has three wonderful children and has lived in gorgeous places such as Portugal and Brazil.

Living where English reading material is difficult to find has its drawbacks, however. Tina had to come up with creative ways to satisfy her love for romance novels, so she picked up her pen and tried writing one. After her tenth book she realised she was hooked. She was officially a writer.

A three-times Golden Heart finalist, and fluent in Portuguese, Tina now divides her time between the United States and Brazil. She loves to use exotic locales as the backdrop for many of her stories. When she’s not writing you can find her either on horseback or soldering stained-glass panels for her home.

Tina loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website or ‘friend’ her on Facebook.

Her Playboy’s
Secret
Tina Beckett

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Have you ever met someone and formed an instant opinion—only to be forced to revise that opinion once you get to know them? That’s the case when obstetrician Darcie Green meets gorgeous Lucas Elliot for the first time. Sparks fly, and she soon labels him a playboy of the worst kind, only interested in one thing. Darcie has no intention of joining the throngs of female patients and co-workers who seem to hang on his every word. What she doesn’t realise, however, is that Lucas uses his flirtatious charm to conceal a painful family secret and his real reason for becoming a midwife.

Thank you for joining Lucas and Darcie as they tiptoe around their attraction and try their best to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. And maybe, just maybe, this very special couple will discover what love and loyalty really mean. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I loved writing it!

Love

Tina Beckett

Dedication

To those who dare to chase their dreams

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Endpage

Copyright

PROLOGUE

One week ago

IT WAS A curse heard around the world. Or at least around the ward of the Melbourne Maternity Unit.

Everyone on the ward went silent and several heads cranked around to see what the normally easygoing Lucas Elliot could possibly be upset about.

Darcie Green already knew—had braced herself for this very moment, wondering what his reaction would be.

Now she knew.

Still facing the rotation roster hanging on the far wall, Lucas didn’t move for several seconds. Then, as if he couldn’t quite believe what his eyes were telling him, one finger went to the chart, dragging across it to follow the line that matched dates with names.

She cringed as he muttered yet again, slightly lower this time. A few sympathetic glances came her way as people went back to their jobs. Isla Delamere, her former flatmate—now heavily pregnant—mouthed, “Sorry,” as she tiptoed out of firing range.

A perfect beginning to a stellar day. She rolled her eyes.

Nine months in Australia and Darcie was just beginning to feel a part of the team. Except for Lucas’s very vocal reaction at having the rota that matched hers, that was. He’d evidently not seen the list until just now.

Did he even know she was standing not seven meters behind him at the nurses’ station? Probably not.

Then again, it was doubtful he would even care.

It wasn’t as if she felt any better about having to spend an entire rotation with the handsome senior midwife. She just hadn’t been quite as “loud” in expressing her displeasure.

Yes, she’d given him an earful about his periods of tardiness a few months back. But that had been no reason to call her an uptight, snooty, English…

Her eyes closed before the word formed, a flash of hurt working through her yet again.

Was the thought of being paired with her so hideous that he had to make sure everyone on the ward knew what he thought of her?

Evidently.

And why not? Her fiancé hadn’t minded letting a whole chapel full of wedding guests know that he’d fallen in love with her best friend, who just so happened to be her maid of honor. Tabitha had promptly run over to him, squealing with delight, and thrown herself into his arms, leaving Darcie standing there in shock.

And, yes, Robert had called her uptight as well, right before he’d dropped the bomb that had ended their engagement.

Lucas’s left hand went to the back of his neck, head bending forward as he massaged his muscles for a moment. When he finally turned around his eyes swept the area, going right past her before retracing his steps and pausing.

On her.

Then his left brow quirked, a rueful smile curving his lips. “Sorry. Heard that, did you?”

Was he serious? “I imagine there were very few who didn’t.”

He moved forward, until he was standing in front of her—all six feet of him. “I bet you did some name-calling of your own when you saw the rotation.” His smile faded. “Unless you requested we work this one together.”

Sure. That’s just what she would have done, left to her own devices.

She forced her chin up. “No, I didn’t request it, but it doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you mean. I’ve had worse assignments.” Before she could congratulate herself on keeping her response cool and measured, even when her insides were squirming with embarrassment, he gave her a quick grin.

“Touché, Dr. Green. Although since you almost had me fired the last time we interacted, I assume your ‘worse assignment’ didn’t fare quite as well.”

Since the assignment she’d been referring to had had to do with returning hundreds of wedding gifts courtesy of her ex, it would appear that way. “I don’t know about that. I think he feels quite lucky not to have to deal with my—how did you put it?—‘uptight English ways’ any more.”

Lucas’s gaze trailed over her face, but instead of whipping off a sharp retort he leaned in closer. “Then maybe you should consider some behavior modification courses.”

Although the words were made in jest—at least she thought they were—they still stung. Darcie pulled the edges of her cardigan around herself to combat the chill spreading from her heart to the rest of her body and then forced every muscle in her chin go utterly still, so he wouldn’t see the wobble. “You’re right. Maybe I should.”

His head tilted, and he studied her for a minute longer. He reached out a hand as if to touch her, before lowering it again. “Hey. Sorry. I was teasing.”

Maybe, but a part of what he’d said was true. Men did seem to find her “chilly and distant”—words her ex had also used to describe her during the last troubled weeks of their engagement. And he had been right. Compared to her, Tabitha was warm and bubbly and anything but distant.

Darcie couldn’t help the way she was made, though, could she? She dragged her thoughts back to the man in front of her. She hadn’t tried to be unreasonable during their confrontation a few months ago, whatever Lucas might have thought. Was asking someone to be prompt and to keep his mind on his job so unreasonable?

Well, she didn’t really have her mind on the job right now either.

“Don’t worry about it.” She fastened the buttons on her cardigan to keep from having to hold onto it and drew herself upright. “I’m sure, if we both remain professional, we’ll come off this rotation relatively unscathed.”

He gave her a dubious-looking smile. “I’m sure we will.”

As he strode away, his glance cutting back to the chart and giving a shake of his head that could only be described as resigned, she realized that was the problem. Neither of them seemed able to maintain a calm professionalism around the other.

Two fortnights. That’s all it was. Just because her rota corresponded with his, it didn’t mean she had to stick to his side like glue. She could do this.

Doubt, like a whisper of smoke that curled round and round until it encased its victim, made her wonder if her ex-fiancé’s cutting words were the hardest things she would ever face. She’d thought so at one time.

But as Lucas ducked around a corner and out of sight, she had a terrible suspicion she could be facing something much worse.

CHAPTER ONE

Present day

“CORA? WHAT’S WRONG, sweetheart?”

Lucas leaned a shoulder against the wall outside the birthing suite as his niece’s voice came over the phone, dread making his blood pressure rise in steady increments. Every time he thought his brother was through the worst of his grief, he’d go on yet another binge and undo all the work he’d accomplished during therapy.

He took a quick glance down the hall. The coast was clear.

Lucas had worked hard over the last week to make sure his personal life didn’t interfere with his job. As angry as he’d been at Darcie for giving him a public flogging over being late for work a couple of months ago, she’d been right. It was why he’d hired a childminder to help with Cora’s care. Burning the candle at both ends was not only unwise, it could also be dangerous for his patients.

Had his parents still been alive, they would have been happy to help. But it had been almost ten years since the car accident that had taken their lives.

His niece’s voice came through. “Nothing’s wrong. I just called to tell you what Pete the Geek did today.”

Cora’s Belgian sheepdog. Muscles he hadn’t been aware he’d contracted released all at once. “Can you tell me later, gorgeous? I’m working right now.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, Uncle Luke. Are you coming for dinner tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.” He smiled, unable to resist the pleading note in her voice. “What are we having?”

“Prawns!”

Cora’s birth was what had propelled him to change his career path from plastic surgery to midwifery. The lure of a glamorous life filled with beautiful women had faded away in a moment when Felix’s wife had gone into labor unexpectedly. Lucas had delivered his own niece in the living room of his brother’s home. As he’d stared down at the tiny creature nestled in his hands, Cora had blinked against the light and given a sharp wail of protest that had melted his heart. Seven years later, she still had the power to turn him into a soppy puddle of goo, especially since he and Felix were now the only family she had left.

He needed to get off the phone, but the ward was quiet—none of his patients were laboring at the moment. He cradled the device closer to his ear. “Prawns, eh? What’s the occasion?”

She giggled. “Just because.”

“You’re going to spoil me.” His chest tightened at how happy she sounded. He’d take this over those other phone calls any day.

“Oh,” his niece said, “make sure you bring some briquettes for the barbie. Daddy forgot them at the store.”

Felix had forgotten quite a few things lately. But at least he seemed to be pulling out of his current well of depression.

Footsteps sounded somewhere behind him, so he moved to end the conversation.

“Okay, Cora, I will. Looking forward to tonight.”

“Me too. Love you bunches.”

“Love you even more, sweetheart. Bye.” He ended the call, only to have the very person he’d been hoping not to encounter stalk past him, throwing an icy glare his way.

Lucas sighed. The woman did seem to pop up at just the wrong time. He slid the phone into his pocket and decided to go after her. He had no idea why, but he liked trying to get a rise out of her. Within five steps he’d caught up with her. Matching her pace, he glanced to the side.

Not good. The obstetrician’s lips were pressed together into a thin line, her expression stony.

He pushed forward anyway, throwing her what he hoped was a charming smile. “Were you looking for me?”

Her expression didn’t budge. “I was, but I can see you’re busy.”

“Just taking a short breather between patients. What was it you wanted?”

She glanced at him, her eyes meeting his for a mere second. “Is Isla scheduled to see you this week?”

Isla Delamere was one of his colleagues as well as a friend.

“Yes, did you want to be there for her appointment?”

Her chin edged up in a way he was coming to recognize. “I’d planned to be. She’s my patient as well.”

Okay, he’d gotten a rise out of her, but not quite the kind he’d been hoping for.

He moved ahead of her and planted himself in her path before she could reach the door to the staff lounge. Why he was bothering he had no idea, but something in him wanted to knock down a block or two of that icy wall she surrounded herself with. “Listen, Dr. Green—Darcie—I know we got off on the wrong foot somehow, but can we hit the reset button? We have three weeks of our rotation left. I’d like to make them pleasant ones, if at all possible. What do you say?”

The tight lines in her face held firm for another moment, and he wondered if she was going to strike him dead for daring to use her first name. Then her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. “I think I might be able to manage that.” The corners of her mouth edged up, creating cute little crinkles at the outer edges of her eyes. “If we both try very hard.”

Something in Lucas’s chest shifted, and a tightening sensation speared through his gut. Had he ever seen the woman smile? Not that he could remember, and certainly never at him. The transformation in her face was…

Incredible.

He swallowed. That was something he was better off not thinking about.

Three weeks. He just had to get through the rest of this rotation. From what he understood, Dr. Green had only been seconded to MMU for a year, then she’d head back to England. He did some quick calculations. She had, what…three months left? Once their rotation was over she’d be down to two, which meant it was doubtful they’d be paired together again. He gave an internal fist pump, trying to put his whole heart into it. It came off as less than enthusiastic.

Because you still have these three weeks to get through.

He gave her another smile. “I think I can manage it as well.”

“Well, good. Now that that’s settled, when is Isla’s appointment?”

He checked his schedule. “Next Wednesday at two.”

Darcie pulled her phone out and scrolled through a couple of screens before punching some buttons. “I don’t have anyone scheduled at that time, so I’ll be there.” She gave him another smile—a bit wider this time—and the wobble in his chest returned. And this time he noticed the crinkles framed eyes that were green. A rich velvety color. Sparkling with life.

Her lips were softer too than they had been earlier. Pink, delicate, and with just a hint of shine.

The tightening sensation spread lower, edging beneath his waistband.

What the hell? Time to get out of here.

“Great. See you later.” He turned and started back the way he had come, only to have her voice interrupt him.

“Don’t forget to call for a consult if anything unusual comes up.”

He stiffened at the prim tone. “Yes, I know the protocol, thank you.”

When she didn’t respond, he turned around and caught something…hurt?…in the depths of those green eyes, and maybe even a hint of uncertainty. In a flash, though, it winked out, taking with it any trace of her earlier smile and, very possibly, their newborn peace accord.

While that bothered him on a professional level, it was what he’d seen in her expression in that unguarded moment that made him want to cross over to her and try to understand what was going on in her head. He didn’t. Instead, he chose to reiterate his comment in a less defensive way. “I’ll ring if I need you.”

Then he walked away. Without looking back. Praying the next weeks sped by without him having to make that call.

That man should wear a lab coat. A long one.

Darcie tried not to stare at the taut backside encased in dark jeans as he made his way back down the hall, but it was hard. No matter how much she tried to look anywhere but there, her peripheral vision was still very much engaged, keeping track of him until he finally turned down a neighboring corridor.

The thread of hurt from his curt response still lingered, just waiting for her to tug on it and draw it tighter. Why had he acted so put out to have her assistance on a case?

Was it the professional rivalry that sometimes went on between midwives and obstetricians?

She sagged against the wall, pressing her fingers against her temples and rubbing in slow, careful circles to ward off the migraine that was beginning to chomp at the wall of her composure.

What was it about Lucas that put her on edge?

The fact that he was a man in a field dominated by women?

Or was it the fact that all the expectant mums who came through the doors clamored to be put on his patient list? Despite the run-ins they’d had over the past nine months, Senior Midwife Lucas seemed quite capable of doing his job with an ease and efficiency that only enhanced his good looks.

And they were good.

She tried to dredge up an unflattering image, like the time he’d come in late for work, dragging his fingers through his wavy hair, his rumpled clothes the same ones he’d had on when he’d left the previous afternoon. Nope. He’d been just as attractive then as the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

Ugh. She disliked him for that most of all.

Or maybe it was all those secretive phone calls she’d caught him making when he’d thought he’d been alone. Oh, those were definitely over the top. So many of them, right in the middle of his shift.

And he wondered why she was outraged when he came in late or took little side breaks to indulge in whispered conversations.

Could she be jealous?

She straightened in a flash. No! Just because Robert had decided she wasn’t enough “fun”, it didn’t mean she should go ballistic over any man who wanted to indulge in a bit of pillow talk on the phone.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother her so much if he didn’t use the same flirty tones when in conversation with the MMU staff and his patients. The tone he turned on this “Cora” person—a kind of I’m-not-willing-to-commit-but-I-still-want-you-at-my-beck-and-call attitude that grated on Darcie’s nerves. Especially after the way her ex had led her down the rosy path, only to dump her for her maid of honor—who, actually, was a lot of fun to be with.

She sighed and went into the lounge to get a strong cuppa that she hoped would relieve the steady ache in her head and keep it from blooming into something worse.

As soon as she moved into the space, she knew it was a mistake. Lucas, it seemed, was the main topic of conversation among the cluster of four nurses inside.

“I swear one of his patients this morning had on false eyelashes. While in labor!” Marison Daniels blinked rapidly, as if trying to imitate what the woman had done. They all laughed.

If Darcie had hoped to slide by them, grab her tea and tiptoe back out of the room unseen, that hope was dashed when the nurse next to Marison caught Darcie’s eye and gave the jokester a quick poke in the ribs with her elbow. The laughter ceased instantly.

Oh, Lord. Her face burned hotter than the kettle she’d just switched on.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt,” Marison assured her. “I was just headed back to the ward.”

The others all echoed the same thing.

With a scurry of feet and tossing of rubbish, the four headed out.

Just what she needed. To be reminded that she was still very much an outsider when it came to certain things—like being allowed to let her hair down with the rest of them.

No, the pattern had been set from the moment she’d got off the plane. Oh, she’d made friends and people were nice enough, but to let her in on their little jokes? That didn’t happen very often, except with Isla.

Worse, she’d even overheard Lucas making fun of her English accent while on one of his phone calls to Cora. It hadn’t been in a mean way, he’d just repeated some of her colloquialisms with a chuckle, but it made her feel self-conscious any time she opened her mouth around him. So she made sure she spoke to him as little as possible. And now that they were sharing a rota, she was still struggling to maintain that silence.

Not that it was going to be possible forever.

She could still picture the confident way he strode through the hallways of the ward, his quick smile making itself known whenever he met a patient. She wrinkled her nose. More than one expectant mum would have probably given her left ovary to bat long sexy lashes and claim the child she was carrying was Lucas Elliot’s.

Including his current paramour, Cora?

Probably, but not her. She was done with men like him.

Her fiancé had been handsome and attentive. Until he hadn’t been. Until he’d grown more and more distracted as their engagement had progressed.

Now she knew why.

And Lucas had Cora. She was not about to smile and flirt with a man who was taken. She wasn’t Tabitha.

She packed leaves into the tea ball and dropped it into a chunky mug—a gift from her dad to remind her that her favorite footballers resided in England and to not let herself get swept away by a handsome face, especially one who lived halfway round the world.

Lucas’s quirked brow swam before her eyes, and she let out an audible groan, even as she poured boiling water into her cup. No matter how good looking he was or how elated she’d been to see the momentary confusion cross his expression when she’d smiled at him, she did not need to become like False-Eyelash Lady—the one Marison had carried on about.

There’d be a real corker of a reaction if someone caught her mooning after him. Or staring after him, like she’d done earlier.

She bounced her tea ball in the water and watched as the brew grew darker and darker, just like her thoughts. What she needed was to stay clearheaded. Like he’d said, they had three more weeks together.

He wanted them to be pleasant ones. She finished adding milk and sugar to her cup and then discarded the used tea leaves, rinsing the ball and leaving it on a towel for the next person who needed it.

“Pleasant” she could do, but that had to be the extent of it. Maybe she should be grateful for all those calls to Cora…maybe she should even hope the relationship stayed the course. At least for the next few weeks.

Which meant she would not go out of her way to put him at ease or cut him any slack if he came in late again. Neither would she give the man any reason to look at her with anything other than the casual curiosity his eyes normally held.

And once those three weeks were up?

Life would go back to the way it had been before they’d found themselves joined at the hip.

Joined at the hip. She gave a quick grin. That was one place she and Lucas would never be joined, even if the idea did create a layer of warmth in her belly. But it was not going to happen. Not in this lifetime.

With that in mind, she took a few more sips of the sweet milky brew, then, feeling fortified and ready to face whatever was out there, she headed off to see her next patient in what was proving to be a very interesting morning.

CHAPTER TWO

FELIX WASN’T AT HOME.

Arms loaded with items for their dinner, Lucas set everything down in the kitchen. “Where is he?”

Chessa, the childminder, shrugged and said in a quiet voice, “He went out an hour ago, saying he needed to buy prawns, and hasn’t come back yet.”

Damn. “And where’s Cora?”

“Outside with Pete.” The young woman’s brow creased. “Should I be worried? He’s been good for the last few weeks, but he did put some bottles of ale in the fridge. I haven’t seen him drink anything, though.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your job to watch him. If he ever fails to come home before you’re supposed to leave, though, call me so I can make sure Cora is taken care of.”

“I would never leave her by herself, Mr. Elliot.” The twenty-five-year-old looked horrified.

“I know you wouldn’t. I just don’t want you to feel you have to stay past your normal time.”

The sliding door opened and in bounded Pete the Geek in a flash of brown and white fur, followed closely by Cora, whose red face said they’d been involved in some sort of running game. The dog came over and sat in front of him, giving a quick woof.

Lucas laughed and reached in his pocket for a treat. “Well, you’re learning.”

He and Cora had been working on teaching Pete not to leap on people who walked through the door. By training him to sit quietly in front of visitors, they forestalled any muddy paw prints or getting knocked down and held prisoner by an overactive tongue. The trick seemed to be working, although if the tail swishing madly across the tile floor was any indication, Pete was holding himself in check with all his might.

Kind of like him when Darcie had smiled at him as he’d left the hospital?

Good thing he had more impulse control than Cora’s dog.

Or maybe Darcie was training him as adeptly as Cora seemed to be training Pete.

“He wants his treat, Uncle Luke.”

Realizing he’d been standing there like an idiot, he tossed the bacon-flavored bit to Pete and then bent down to pet him. “I think he’s gained ten kilos in the last week.”

He squatted and put an arm around both his niece and her dog.

Cora kissed him on the cheek, her thin arms squeezing his neck. “That’s just silly. He doesn’t weigh that much.”

“No?” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, grimacing when Pete gave his own version of a kiss, swiping across his eyebrow and half his eye in the process. “Okay, enough already.”

He couldn’t hold back his smile, however, despite the niggle of worry that was still rolling around inside him.

Where the hell was his brother?

Standing, he kept one hand on Pete’s head and smiled at the minder. “Would you try ringing his mobile phone and seeing how long he’ll be while I fire up the barbie and get it ready? I don’t know about everyone else but I’m starving.”

His voice was light, but his heart weighed more than the dog at his feet.

“Of course,” Chessa said. “I’ll bring you some lemonade in a few minutes.”

As he was preparing the grill, she came out with a glass and an apologetic shake of her head. “There was no answer, but I left a voice mail.”

“Thank you. Luckily I brought some prawns with me, just in case. Feel free to stay and eat with us, if you’d like.”

She smiled. “Thanks, but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll head back to my flat. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think we’re good.”

Twenty minutes later he had the briquettes going while Cora and Pete—worn out from a rough-and-tumble game of tug of war—lounged in a hammock strung between two gum trees, the dog’s chin propped on his niece’s shoulder. Both looked utterly content. Rescuing Pete had been the best thing his brother had ever done for his daughter, unlike a lot of other things since his wife’s tragic death. In fact, the last four years had been a roller coaster consisting of more lows than highs—with the plunges occurring at lightning speed.

He went in and grabbed the package of prawns and some veggies to roast. Just as he started rinsing the shellfish, the front door opened and in came his brother. Bleary, red-rimmed eyes gave him away.

Perfect. Lucas already knew this routine by heart.

“Was our cookout tonight?” his brother asked, hands as empty as Lucas’s stomach. “I forgot.”

His molars ground against each other as he struggled with his anger and frustration. Was this what love and marriage ultimately led to? Forgetting that anyone else existed outside your own emotional state? Felix had a daughter who needed him, for God’s sake. What was it going to take to make him look at someone besides himself? “Cora didn’t forget.”

His brother groaned out loud then mumbled, “Sorry.”

“I’m just getting ready to throw it all on the barbie, so why don’t you get yourself cleaned up before you go out there to see?”

The first two steps looked steady enough, but the next one swayed a bit to the left before Felix caught himself.

“Tell me you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Can you make it to your bedroom on your own?” The last thing Lucas wanted was for Cora to come in and see her father like this, not that she hadn’t in the past. Many times.

Felix scowled. “Of course I can.” He proceeded to weave his way down the hallway, before disappearing into one of the rooms—the bathroom.

Looks like you’re spending the night on your brother’s couch once again, mate.

Lucas had impressed on Cora the need to call him if her father ever seemed “not himself.” The pattern was bizarre with periods of complete normalcy followed by bouts of depression, sometimes mixed with drinking. Not a good combination for someone taking antidepressant medication.

He made a mental note to ask Felix if he was still taking his pills, and another note to make sure he arrived at work…on time! As he’d found out, it was tricky getting Cora off to school and then making the trek to the hospital, but if the traffic co-operated it could be done.

Otherwise that hard-won peace treaty would be shredded between pale English fingers.

Strangely, he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to disappoint her after he’d worked so hard to turn things around between them. Didn’t want to lose those rare smiles in the process. So yes. He would do his damnedest to get to the hospital on time.

And between now and then he’d have to figure out what to do about his brother. Threaten him with another stint in rehab? Take away his car keys?

He cast his eyes up to the ceiling, trying not to blame Melody for allowing his brother to twine his life so completely around hers that he had trouble functioning now that she was gone.

Lucas never wanted to be in a position like that. And so far he hadn’t. He’d played the field far and wide, but he still lived by two hard and fast rules: no married women and no long-term relationships. As long as he could untangle himself with ease the next day, he was happy. And he stuck to women who felt the same way. No hurt feelings. And definitely no burning need to hang around and buy a house with a garden.

Finishing up the veggies, he faintly caught the sound of the shower switching on, the poof from the on-demand water heater confirming his thoughts. Good. At least Felix was doing something productive. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the ale in the door and popped the top on every single bottle. Then he took a long gulp of the one in his hand, before proceeding to pour the rest of the contents down the drain, doing the same with every other bottle and then placing the lot in the recycle bin. If the beer wasn’t here, Felix couldn’t drink it, right?

Not that that stopped him from going out to the nearest pub, but at least that took some effort, which he hoped Felix didn’t have in him tonight.

Lucas went outside and loaded the prawns into a cooking basket and set it over the fire, then arranged the vegetables next to them on the grate. Cora’s empty glass of lemonade was next to his full one. She was still sprawled on the hammock and it looked like both she and Pete were out for the count. If only he could brush off his cares that easily, he might actually get a full night’s sleep.

But maybe tonight would be different. He’d learned from experience that the fold-out cot in the spare room was supremely uncomfortable. He was better off just throwing a quilt over Melody’s prized couch and settling in for the night there.

And he would wake up on time. He absolutely would.

And he’d arrive at work chipper and ready to face the day.

He hoped.

Something was wrong with Lucas.

He’d come through the doors of the MMU with a frown that could have swallowed most of Melbourne. She’d arrived at work armed with a smile, only to have him look right past her as if she didn’t exist.

Ha! Evidently she’d been wrong about his reaction. Because there was nothing remotely resembling attraction in the man’s eyes today. In fact, his whole frame oozed exhaustion, as did the two nicks on the left side of his strong jaw. He’d muttered something that might have been “G’day.” Or it might just as easily have been “Go to hell.”

She was tempted to chase him down and ask about his evening, but when she turned to do so, she noticed that the back of his shirt was wrinkled as if he’d…Her gaze skimmed down and caught the same dark jeans he’d worn yesterday.

Her stomach rolled to the side. The staff all had lockers, and the last time he’d come in like this he’d used the hospital’s shower and changed into clean clothes. That’s probably what he was headed to do right now.

The evidence pointed to one thing. That he’d spent the night with “Cora” or some other woman.

The trickle of attraction froze in her veins.

None of your business, Darcie.

Just leave the man alone. If she made an issue of this, they would be back where they’d started: fighting a cold war that neither one of them would win.

But why the hell couldn’t he drag himself out of his lover’s bed in time to go home and shower before coming to work?

Unless he just couldn’t manage to tear himself away from her.

An image emerged from the haze that she did her best to block. Too late. There it was, and there was no way to send it back again—the one of Lucas swinging his feet over the side of the mattress, only to have some faceless woman graze long, ruby fingernails down his arm and whisper something that made him change his mind.

She shook her head to remove the picture and forced herself to get back to work.

Just as she did so she spied one of her patients leaning against the wall, her hands gripping her swollen belly. Margie Terrington, an English transplant like herself, had just come in yesterday for a quick check to make sure things were on track. They had been.

At least until now. From the concentration on her face and the grey cast to her skin, something wasn’t right. Darcie glanced around for a nurse, but they were still tending to the morning’s patients. Darcie hurried over.

“Margie? Are you all right?”

Her eyes came up. “My stomach. It’s cramping. I think it’s the baby.”

“Let’s get you into a room.”

Alarm filled her. No time to check her in or do any of the preliminaries. This was the young woman’s second pregnancy. She’d miscarried her first a little over a year ago, and she was only seven months along with this one. Too soon. The human body didn’t just go into labor this early unless there was a problem.

Her apprehension grew, and she sent up a quick prayer.

Propping her shoulder beneath Margie’s arm, they headed to the nearest exam room. One of the nurses came out of a room across the hall, and Darcie called out to her. “Tessa, could you come here?”

The nurse hurried over and got on the other side of their patient.

“Once I get her settled, can you see if you can find Lucas? He arrived a few minutes ago, so he might be in the lounge or the locker area. Let him know I might need his help.”

“Of course.”

The patient was sweating profusely—Darcie could feel the moisture through the woman’s light maternity top. Another strike against her. If she had some kind of systemic infection, could it have crossed the placenta and affected the baby? A thousand possibilities ran through her mind.

Pushing into the exam area, the trio paused when Margie groaned and doubled over even more. “Oh, God. Hurts.”

“Do they feel like contractions? Are they regular?” They finally got her to the bed and helped her up on it.

“I don’t know.”

Tessa scurried around, getting her vitals, while Darcie tried to get some more information. What she learned wasn’t good. Margie had got up and showered like normal and had felt fine. Forty minutes later she’d got a painful cramp in her side—like the kind you got while running, she’d said. The pain had grown worse and had spread in a band across her abdomen. Now she was feeling nauseous, whether from the pain or something else, she wasn’t sure. “And my joints hurt, as if I’m getting the flu.”

Could she be?

As soon as Tessa called out the readings, the nurse went out to get the patient’s chart and to hunt down Lucas.

“Let’s get you into a robe and see what’s going on.”

“Wait.” Margie groaned again. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Grabbing a basin, she held it under her patient’s mouth as she heaved. Nothing came up, though.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Darcie started to reach for a paper towel, only to have Lucas arrive, chart in hand. He took one look at the scene and anticipated what she was doing. Ripping a couple of towels from the dispenser, he glanced at her in question. “What’ve you got?”

“This is Margie Terrington from Southbank. She’s cramping. Pain in the joints. Nausea.”

“Contractions?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just getting ready to hook her up to the monitor.”

He tilted his head. “Theories?”

“None.” She laid a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “Are you up to telling Lucas what you told me?”

Even as she asked it, Margie’s face tightened up in a pained grimace, and she gave a couple of sustained breaths, dragging air in through her nose and letting it out through her mouth. A second or two later she nodded. “Like I told you, I took a shower this morning. Then I started getting these weird sensations in my side.”

“What kind of weird?”

“Like a pulled muscle or something.” She stiffened once again. She gritted out, “But now my whole stomach hurts.”

“Where’s the father?” Lucas asked.

“He’s at work. I—I didn’t want to worry him if it’s nothing.”

Lucas frowned. “I think he should be here.” He glanced at Darcie. “Can you get her hooked up while I ring him?”

If anything, Margie looked even more frightened. “Am I going to lose this baby too?”

Darcie’s heart ached for the woman, even as her brain still whirled, trying to figure out what was going on. “Let us do the worrying, love, can you do that?”

“I think so.” She wrote her husband’s phone number on a sheet of paper and handed it to Lucas.

While he was gone, Darcie got Margie into a hospital gown and snapped on a pair of gloves. Then she wrapped the monitor around her patient’s abdomen. Wow, she was really perspiring. So much so that it had already soaked through the robe on her right side.

And her abdominal muscles were tight to the touch. “Are you having a contraction right now?”

Margie moaned. “I don’t know.”

She started up the machine and the first thing she heard was the quick woompa-woompa-woompa-woompa of the baby’s heart. Thank God. Even as that thought hit, a hundred more swept past it. A heartbeat didn’t mean Margie’s baby wasn’t in distress, just that he was alive.

She stared at the line below the heart rate that should be showing the marked rise and fall of the uterus as it contracted and released. It was a steady line.

Placing her hand on Margie’s abdomen again, she noted the strange tightness she’d felt before. But it seemed more like surface muscles to Darcie. Not the deep, purposeful contraction of a woman’s uterus.

Lucas came back and glanced at the monitor. “Your husband’s on his way.”

“Thank you.” Another moan, and her hands went back to her stomach.

Lucas sat next to the bed and held the patient’s hand, helping guide her through the deep breathing.

“She’s not contracting.” Darcie’s eyes were locked on the monitor where a series of little squiggles indicated that something was happening, but it was more like a series of muscle fasciculations than the steady rise and fall she would expect to see. Could she have flu, like Margie suspected?

“When did you start sweating like this?”

Lucas’s voice drew her attention back. He eased Margie’s robe to the side and stared at the area where moisture was already beading up despite just having been exposed to the chilly air of the ward. Strange. Although Margie was perspiring everywhere—Darcie gave a quick glance at her face and chest above the gown—there was a marked difference between her moist upper lip and her right side, where a rivulet of liquid peaked and then ran down the woman’s swollen belly.

“I don’t know. An hour after my shower? Right about the time I started to hurt.”

He peered at her closer. “You said you took a shower. Did you feel anything before or after it? A sting…or a prick maybe?”

A prick? Darcie stared at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

“No.”

“Where did the pain start exactly?”

Margie pressed her fingers right over the area that was wet from perspiration.

He muttered something under his breath then glanced up at Darcie. “I need to make a quick phone call.”

“What?” Outrage gathered in her chest and built into a froth that threatened to explode. Surely he was not going to make a personal call right now.

As if he saw something in her face, he reached out and encircled her wrist. “I want her husband to check on something at the house before he comes here,” he said in a low voice.

The anger flooding her system disappeared in a whoosh as she stared back at him.

Margie’s panicked voice broke between them. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I don’t think you’re in labor.”

“Then what?”

“I think you may have been bitten by a redback,” Lucas said.

“A what?” Margie asked.

“It’s one of our most famous residents,” he said. “It’s a spider. A nasty one at that.”

A redback! Darcie had heard of them but had never encountered one, and since she wasn’t from Australia, it had never dawned on her that Margie could have been envenomed by something. Her patient was also from England. She’d probably never thought of that possibility either.

She glanced at Lucas. “Are they that common?”

“Quite.” He patted Margie’s hand. “If that’s the case we have antivenin we can give you, which should help.”

“If it is a bite, will it hurt the baby?” She gritted her teeth and pulled in another deep breath.

“I think we’ve caught it at an early stage.” His gaze went back to the monitor, which Darcie noted still held steady. “I want to have your husband check the towel and your bathroom.”

The patient’s eyes widened. “I used the walk-in shower in the guest bathroom this morning. I almost never use that one because it’s quite a long way from the bedroom. But my mother is due to fly in to help with the house and baby in a few weeks, and I thought I could tidy things and scrub the shower stall down as I was bathing.”

“I’m just going to pull Dr. Green into the hallway for a moment. I’ll send the nurse in to sit with you.”

Once they were outside the room, and Lucas had rung the husband, asking him to shake out the towel and examine the bathroom, she spun toward him. “A redback. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Most Australians know what to look for, but no one else would. I’ve seen this once before. A redback bite that comes in looking like preterm labor.”

She sagged against the wall. “God. I would have never checked for that. I didn’t see a bite. Didn’t even think to ask.”

“You wouldn’t have. And as for the bite mark…” He shrugged. “Small fangs, but they pack quite a wallop.”

He gave a smile that looked as tired as she suddenly felt.

“Can we give antivenin to her during pregnancy?”

“We’ve given it before. I can’t recall anyone having a bad reaction, unless the patient is allergic to the equine immunoglobulin in the serum.” He sighed. “There’ve been some conflicting reports recently about whether or not the antivenin actually works, but I’ve seen enough evidence to tell me it’s worth a shot. Especially since she’s miscarried once already.”

Lucas’s mobile phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s him. Let’s hope this is the answer we’re looking for.”

He punched a button asking a few questions before assuring the man that she should do well with the antivenin and telling him they’d be awaiting his arrival.

“He found the redback. It was still in the towel. A big one, from the sound of it.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’ll need you to sign off on the medication. We’ll go the intravenous route rather than administering the antivenin intramuscularly, since that’s more favored at the moment.”

“Of course.” She closed her eyes with a relieved laugh. “God, I could kiss you right now. I never in a million years would have got that diagnosis right.”

A few seconds of silence met her comment.

Hell. Had she really just said that? About kissing him?

Evidently, because when she dared to look at him again a thread of confused amusement seemed to play across his face. “I don’t think now would be appropriate, do you, Dr. Green? But later…” He let his voice trail off in a way that gave her no question that he was definitely open to whatever later meant.

What? Hadn’t he just come to work this morning all rumpled and sexed up?

Sexed up? Was that even a real expression?

Whether it was or not wasn’t the point. It was unbelievable that he would roll out of one woman’s bed and be ready and willing to kiss a second one. A perfect stranger, actually, since they barely knew each other.

Not likely, you jerk.

She gave the haughtiest toss of her chin she could manage and fixed him with a cold glare. “It’s a figure of speech, Lucas, in case you haven’t heard. I was just happy to know that Margie’s symptoms have an explanation and a treatment. But get this straight. As grateful as I am for your help, I had no intention of really kissing you. Now…or ever. I have no interest in being part of a love triangle. Been there. Done that.”

Before she could scurry away in horror over that last blooper, he murmured, “I stand corrected on the kissing, although you totally had me for a moment or two. But I’m intrigued by this supposed love triangle you envision us in. Care to enlighten me as to who the third party might be, or do I have no say in the matter?”

Was he serious?

She wanted to hurl Cora’s name at him. Instead, by some superhuman force of will, she clamped her jaws shut before they had a chance to issue any other crazy statements. Then, without another word, she swung back into their patient’s room to give her the news about the redback.

At least he hadn’t asked her about the been-there-done-that part of her rant, because no one needed to hear her sad tale about the wedding that almost had been. Or the woman who’d stolen her fiancé’s heart when he was supposed to be madly in love with her.

Since when had she become so reckless with her words?

Just like the ruby stripe on the infamous redback that warned of dire consequences to those who came in contact with it, the answer to her last question was inscribed with words that were just as lethal: Lucas Elliot.

He made her forget about everything but his presence.

The thing was, she had no idea how to go about scrubbing him—or the image of their lips locking in a frenzy of need—from her mind and finishing out the rest of her time in Australia in relative peace.

But she’d better figure out an antivenin that would work against his charm and inject herself with it. As soon as she possibly could.

CHAPTER THREE

“HOW’S CORA?”

Isla settled herself on the paper-lined exam table like a pro, despite the burgeoning evidence of her pregnancy.

A week after they’d successfully treated the redback spider victim, Darcie had somehow managed to keep her tongue to herself.

Ugh. Now, why did that thought sound so raunchy?

And why was it that every time she was around Lucas her mind hadn’t quite stopped doing mental gymnastics over every word the man uttered, turning them over and over and looking for hidden meanings?

There weren’t any, and he hadn’t brought up the subjects of kissing, love triangles, or anything else of a personal nature, for which she was extremely grateful.

Here Isla was, though, bringing up the one person she had no desire to hear about.

Lucas’s supposed lover.

As if hearing her thoughts, he glanced at her before looking back at their patient. “She’s great. Wants me to buy her a sports car.”

Darcie’s eyebrows shot up, even though she tried to keep her facial features frozen into place. The woman had actually asked him to buy her a car? A pool of distaste gathered in the pit of her stomach. Just what kind of women did the man hang out with?

Isla, though, instead of castigating Lucas and telling him to kick the tramp to the curb, laughed as if she found that idea hilarious.

“Did you tell her she has to be tall enough to reach the pedals first?”

Her brain hit the rewind button and played those words over twice. Either he was dating a very short woman or…

“Yep. I also told her she has to be old enough to have her driving permit. So I’m safe for a few years.”

Darcie couldn’t help it. The words just came out. “Cora’s not of legal age?”

“He hasn’t talked your ear off about her yet? Wow.” Her former flatmate blew out a breath. “She’s his niece. And she gives him quite a bit of grief. Isn’t that right, Lucas?”

The man in question studied Darcie as if he couldn’t quite grasp something. “That’s right, and.” The pupils in his eyes grew larger. “Oh, Darcie, I’m almost afraid to ask. Who did you think she was?”

“I—I.” She stammered around for a second then finally gave up.

He made a tutting sound then his lips curved. “I think I see. A love triangle, wasn’t it? I don’t know if I should be insulted or flattered.”

“I just thought, she was—”

“My girlfriend?”

Isla’s voice cut in. “Would someone like to clue me in on what you two are going on about? What’s this about a love triangle?”

“It’s nothing.”

Lucas spoke at the exact same time she did. He then laughed, while Darcie’s face flamed.

Their patient looked from one to the other of them. “Oh, this is definitely not nothing. But…” she patted her belly “…someone is starting to use my bladder as his own personal football. So unless you want to take a break while I visit the loo, maybe we should get on with this.”

“Of course.” Lucas pulled out his measuring tape and stretched it over the bulge of Isla’s belly, writing the results on her chart. “Right on schedule. At this rate I think the baby will weigh in at a little over seven pounds. The perfect size for a first baby.”

“Thank goodness, because right now my stomach looks to be the size of a football.” She gave a light laugh. “I guess that’s why this little guy feels like he’s training for the World Cup.”

“Anything out of the ordinary? Contractions?”

“No. Nothing. I feel great.” She glanced at Darcie. “Except I have to break our date for the beach this afternoon. Someone called off sick, and they’ve asked me to fill in.”

“Don’t worry about it. Some other time.”

“I know, but I promised to take you to see some sights, and with everything with Alessi and the baby, time has just slipped away.” Isla slid a look at Lucas. “Aren’t you two on the same rota?”

A pit lodged in her stomach. “Yes, why?”

“Well, because…” She gave the midwife a wide smile. “Would you mind going in my place? Darcie and I were going to make a list of things for her to see and do. If she puts it off too much longer, she’ll go back to England without having visited anything.”

Her unease morphed into horror. “Isla, I’m sure he has other things to do with his off time than go to the beach.”

“Actually, I’m free once our shift is over.” The smile he gave her was much slower than Isla’s and held a touch of challenge that made her shiver. “I’ll be happy to help her make her list. And maybe even tick an item or two off of it. Since we do have the same rota. Unless she doesn’t trust me, for some reason.”

Isla skimmed her hands over her belly and gave a sigh that sounded relieved. “Of course she trusts you. That would be brilliant, Lucas. At this point, I would only slow her down.”

They were making plans that she hadn’t even agreed to. And go to the beach with Lucas? See those long legs stretched out on the sand beside hers? A dull roar sounded in her ears as panic set in.

“I’ll be fine—”

A quick knock sounded before she could blurt out the rest of her sentence, that she would be fine on her own, that she didn’t need company.

Sean Anderson, one of the other obstetricians, poked his head into the room. “Sorry, guys, they told me Isla was here.” He looked at the patient, his expression unreadable. “One of your teen mums-to-be projects is at the nurses’ station, asking for you. And after that your father wants to speak with you about your sister. I have a few questions about her myself.”

Poor Isla. Not exactly the kind of thing one wanted to deal with when heavily pregnant.

Charles Delamere—Isla’s father and the head of the Melbourne Victoria Hospital—had given her friend nothing but grief over her older sister’s mad dash to England and the reasons behind it. Sean hadn’t been far behind in the question department. But according to Isla, she’d promised Isabel that she would never reveal her secret to anyone. Especially not to Sean, since his coming to the hospital nine months ago had been what had sent Isabel running for the door in the first place.

She tried to avoid the other man’s gaze as much as possible, until Isla sat up and grabbed her hand. “Would you come with me, since you wanted to know more about the teen mums program?”

Her eyes said it all. She didn’t want to be alone with Sean in case he grilled her again about Isabel. Darcie wouldn’t have known about any of this except that Isabel’s sudden departure had left an opening at both the MMU and in the Delameres’ luxurious penthouse flat, which she’d shared with Isla until her friend’s marriage to Alessandro.

Darcie had been all too happy to take Isabel’s place, since she knew what it was like to run from something. In Darcie’s case, it had been the right decision. In Isabel’s, she wasn’t so sure.

Isla hadn’t told her much, but she knew Isabel was keeping something big from Sean. Maybe it was time for her to tell him the truth and see what happened.

But that wasn’t her decision to make.

“Of course I’ll come with you. It’ll give me a chance to meet someone who’s in the program.”

As Isla threw her a grateful look and slid off the bed, Lucas, who’d been listening to their conversation without a word, wrapped his fingers around Darcie’s wrist. “I’ll meet you by the entrance after work. This’ll give us a chance to discuss some things as well.”

Like how she’d somehow managed to leap to the conclusion that his niece was some floozy that kept him out late at night and caused him to have a flippant attitude about work? Heavens, she’d misjudged the man, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to make it right. But going to the beach with him was the last venue she would have chosen. For the life of her, though, she couldn’t think of a way to get out of it. “If you’re sure.”

“More than sure.” His thumb glided across the inside of her wrist, the touch so light she was almost positive she’d imagined it, if not for the cheeky grin that followed. Then he released her. “Give me a ring when you’re done.”

“‘Kay.”

Once out the door, she went with Sean and Isla to the waiting area, her shaking legs and thumping heart threatening to send her to the floor. It took several deep breaths to get hold of herself.

It turned out the expectant mum was there to introduce Isla to a friend of hers—also a teen, also pregnant—who wanted to be included in the teen mums program. Darcie’s heart ached over these young women who found themselves facing the unthinkable alone. She glanced at her friend, who greeted the newcomer with a smile, handing her a brochure that explained the enrolment process for TMTB. Darcie might not be able to understand what they went through, but Isla and Isabel understood all too well. Her chest grew tighter as she noticed Sean still standing behind them.

Oh, the tangled webs.

Once the girls were off on their way, Sean stepped forward. Holding up a hand, Isla stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t ask, Sean. I can’t tell you.” She hesitated, and her mouth opened as if she was going to say something else then stopped.

All the heartache with Robert came rushing back, and Darcie realized how much simpler it would have been if he’d told her the truth when he’d first realized he loved someone else, rather than dragging out the process. If he hadn’t kept his feelings for Tabitha a secret, maybe things would have been easier on all involved.

That thought propelled her next words.

“Maybe you should call Isabel and ask her yourself,” she suggested, grabbing Isla’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance. She was half-afraid Isla would smack her for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

Sean’s blue eyes swung toward her. “I tried when I heard she was leaving, but she wouldn’t take my calls.”

Instead of cutting her off, Isla nodded, wrapping her arm around Darcie’s as if needing to hold onto something. “Maybe, Sean…maybe you should just go there. If you’re standing in front of her, she can’t ignore you.”

“Go to England?” he asked.

That was a fantastic idea.

Lucas had planted himself in Darcie’s path a couple of weeks ago, and she’d been forced to stand there while he’d had his say. Maybe Sean should do the same. Once everything was out in the open, they could decide what to do with the truth. Or at least Isabel would be forced to tell him to his face that she wanted nothing to do with him. Somehow Darcie didn’t think that’s what the other woman would say when it came down to it. But, whatever happened, it was up to the two of them to hash things out. It wasn’t Isla’s responsibility, and she shouldn’t have to act as intermediary, especially with a baby on the way. The last thing she needed was any added stress.

“I can give you her address, if you promise not to tell her where you got it,” Isla added.

“My contract at the hospital is almost up.” He dragged a hand through his hair, tousling the messy strands even more. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Isla’s chin angled up a fraction of an inch. “I guess it comes down to whether or not you really want to know why she left, or how much you might come to regret it if you never take the chance and ask.”

“I’ll let you know if I need that address.” With that, he strode down the hallway as if the very hounds of hell were hot on his heels.

Darcie sighed. “Do you think he will?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the better question would be…if he should.”

Why had he agreed to take her to the beach?

Lucas paused at the entrance to the car park to roll down the long sleeves of his shirt and button the cuffs against the cool air—or maybe he was gearing up for battle.

Having seen Darcie’s face go pink when she’d realized Cora was his niece and not his lover had made something come to life inside him…as had her comment about a love triangle. The fact that she’d envisioned herself with him in that way was so at odds with how she’d always treated him that her flippant words had intrigued him. As had the thought of seeing her outside her own environment. Would the woman he’d come to view as an English rose—beautiful skin, green eyes, and a set of thorns that would pierce the toughest hide—turn into someone different once she stepped off hospital property?

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