“I’d like to make love to you. Very, very much,” Jonas stated.

“Em, there’s no need for you to look like you’re being asked to commit for life here. We’re old enough to know we can take pleasure where we find it.”

“And walk away afterward?”

“That’s right.”

“Except it doesn’t work like that,” Em told him sadly. “Like me and Robby.”

“I don’t understand,” Jonas said.

“I thought I could just love Robby for a little bit, so I let myself become involved. And the longer it goes on, the more it’ll tear my heart out when he leaves.”

“You could adopt Robby.”

“Oh, yes?” she jeered. “How could I do that when I’m on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. What sort of mother would I make?”

“I think you’d make a fine one.”

Families in the making!

In the orphanage of a small Australian seaside town called Bay Beach there are little children desperately in need of love. Some of them have no parents, some are simply unwanted—but each child dreams about having their own family someday….

The answer to their dreams can also be found in Bay Beach! Couples who are destined for each other—even if they don’t know it yet—are brought together by love for these tiny children. Can they find true love themselves—and finally become a real family?

Previous books in the PARENTS WANTED miniseries by RITA nominated author Marion Lennox in Harlequin Romance®:

A Child in Need (#3650)

Their Baby Bargain (#3662)

Adopted: Twins! (#3694)

The Doctors’ Baby
Marion Lennox

This book is dedicated to all women with breast cancer

whose past involvement in research and clinical trials

has so improved our chances of survival today.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

DR. EMILY MAINWARING had been awake all night, delivering twins. She was probably asleep and dreaming, but right in her waiting room was…

Her ideal man!

But… This was Bay Beach. She was in the middle of morning surgery, and staring was hardly professional. Instant marriage wasn’t on the cards either. So somehow she forced herself back to being a twenty-nine-year-old country doctor instead of a lovesick teenager staring at a total stranger.

‘Mrs Robin?’

The elderly Mrs Robin rose with relief. She’d been waiting far too long. Every other patient looked at her with envy, and the stranger looked up as well.

Whew! He was even more good-looking eye to eye, and when their gazes locked…

For a moment, Em allowed herself to keep looking. Doctor assessing potential patient.

Ha! There was nothing professional in the way she was looking at this man.

For a start, he was large, in a strong-boned, muscular, six-feet-of-virile-male sort of way. Then he had the most gorgeous, burnt-red hair, crinkling into curls that were a bit unruly, and made you just want to run your fingers…

‘That’s enough of that! Concentrate on work!’ she told herself sharply. The last thing she needed this morning was distraction, and if a pair of twinkling green eyes had the capacity to knock her sideways then maybe she was even more tired than she’d thought.

‘I’m very sorry,’ she told the rest of the waiting room, the stranger included. ‘But I’ve had a couple of emergencies. I’m running almost an hour late. If anyone would like to sit on the beach and come back in a while…’

It wasn’t likely. These people were farmers or fishermen, and a visit to the doctor was a social occasion. They’d sit placidly enough, outwardly reading magazines but in reality soaking up every piece of gossip they could get.

Such as who the redhead was.

And she might have known they’d find out.

‘He’s Anna Lunn’s big brother,’ Mrs Robin told her before she even started on her litany of ills. ‘He’s three years older than Anna, and his name’s Jonas. Ooh, isn’t he lovely? When he came in with Anna, I thought maybe she had a new fella, and that wouldn’t hurt at all since that no-good Kevin walked out. But if this can’t be her new man, then it’s good that she has a brother kind enough to bring her to the doctor’s, don’t you think?’

Yes. It was. Anna Lunn was barely thirty, yet already weighed down with poverty and kids. But why…Em glanced down her list and saw the appointment, and she couldn’t suppress her misgivings.

Anna had made a special appointment and she’d brought her brother along for support. Em just knew this wasn’t going to be a five-minute consultation for a pap smear.

But there was little point in worrying about it now. With an inward sigh she mentally added another half-hour to her day and turned her attention to Mrs Robin’s blood pressure.

Charlie Henderson collapsed before she’d finished. Booked in for his regular coronary check, the fisherman was so old that he looked shrivelled and preserved for ever. He’d tucked himself into a corner of the waiting room and had been contentedly observing the kids and chaos and general confusion. Now, just as Em started writing Mrs Robins’s prescription, his eyes rolled in his head, he crumpled and slid soundlessly onto the floor.

‘Em!’ Her receptionist was banging on Em’s door before he hit the carpet, and Em was by his side almost as fast.

The old man was deathly white, cold and clammy. Em did a fast check of his airway and found no obstruction.

And she found no pulse.

‘Get the crash cart,’ she snapped at Amy. She gave Charlie four deep breaths and ripped his shirt wide to bare his chest. There was no time for niceties here. and there was no time to move him. This looked like total cardiac arrest.

And Amy wasn’t her usual receptionist. Lou was off sick. Amy was standing in and, at eighteen, she had no medical training at all.

Em was on her own.

She could only try, and she must try now. To attempt resuscitation with all these people watching was dreadful, but there was no time for anything else.

‘Could you clear the room?’ she demanded between breaths, not looking up from what she was doing, and not even hopeful that anybody would listen. She couldn’t care. She was breathing for her old friend, pumping down on his chest in an attempt at cardiopulmonary resuscitation as she waited for the crash cart.

And then, from above…

‘Could you all move outside? Now!’ It was a male voice, backing up her order with harsh authority.

Em blinked, wondering who the voice belonged to. It was rich and deep and seemed accustomed to command, but she was kneeling on the floor beside the old man and her attention was totally with him.

Breathe… Please, Charlie, breathe…

‘As you see, this is an emergency and we need room to work,’ the voice continued. ‘If your need’s not urgent, can you make an appointment later. Otherwise wait outside. Now!’

And then suddenly, magically, Red-Hair was kneeling on the other side of Charlie. The crash cart was beside them and she had someone placing jelly on the paddles as if he’d done it countless times before. As she rolled Charlie onto his back, he helped adjust him—just as if he knew what he was doing.

Who on earth was he?

There was no time to ask. All she could do was move with him, fitting a proper mouthpiece now the trolley was here. Normally she wouldn’t have tried to breathe into a patient without a mouthpiece, but Charlie was special. Charlie was her friend.

Charlie…

She had to stay professional. There was no room for emotion if they were to save the old man’s life. With the mouthpiece fitted, she gave him four more quick breaths, then the deep voice cut in.

‘Move back. Now.’

He shifted away. She did too, and then it was the stranger’s hands that fitted the paddles over Charlie’s bare chest. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she could only be thankful.

Please…

The charge hit and Charlie’s body jerked in convulsion. Nothing. They both stared at the trace. It showed no heart activity at all.

They must keep trying! Em gave him four more deep breaths. Then…

‘Back again.’

The stranger’s hands brought the paddles down once more. A jerk—yet still the trace showed nothing.

She breathed for the old man again. Over and over. Still nothing.

And finally Em sat back on her heels and closed her eyes. ‘Enough,’ she whispered. ‘He’s gone.’

There was absolute silence.

Amy, standing behind them in white-faced horror, drew in her breath and started to cry, her tears streaming silently down her face. She was too young for this, Em thought wearily. And, aged all of twenty-nine, Em felt suddenly far too old. She rose stiffly to her feet and crossed to give her receptionist a hug.

‘Come on, Amy. This is OK. Charlie wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.’

That, at least, was the truth. Charlie lived and breathed for Bay Beach gossip. He was eighty-nine, he’d known he’d had a dicky heart for years, and to go out dramatically in the doctor’s waiting room, rather than by himself at home, was just the sort of ending he’d think fitting.

‘Ring Sarah Bond, Amy,’ Em said wearily, as Amy sniffed and tried to pull herself together. ‘Sarah’s Charlie’s niece. Tell her what’s happened. She won’t be too surprised. And then could you ring the undertaker?’

Finally she took a deep breath and looked up at the man who’d been helping her.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply, and something in her face must have betrayed her exhaustion and emotion because the man swore softly. He crossed the distance dividing them to stand before her, and placed a pair of strong, male hands on her shoulders.

‘Hell. You’re done in.’

‘N-not quite.’

‘You were fond of Charlie?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Everyone’s fond of Charlie. He’s been a Bay Beach fisherman all his life.’ She looked uncertainly down at Charlie’s body. They’d closed his eyes, his body had gone limp and he looked incredibly peaceful. Asleep. This was death as it should be.

She shouldn’t mourn, but… ‘I’ve known him for ever,’ she whispered. ‘He taught me to fish when I was five years old. He taught me to swim and he taught me…so much else. So much about the ocean and about enjoying what I had. So much about life.’ With that, her rigid control broke, and her voice broke with it.

‘You need time to recover.’ He looked outside where there were still half a dozen patients who’d decided they were urgent enough to wait. He could see that as soon as Em had spoken to Charlie’s niece and the undertaker had taken Charlie away, this overworked doctor had yet more work to do. ‘Do you have anyone else to take over?’

That reached her. Em took a deep breath and fought for resumption of normality. ‘No.’

‘Then I will,’ he told her calmly. ‘I’m a surgeon. This sort of medicine may be unfamiliar territory, but I can cope with urgent cases while you get your breath back.’

‘You’re a surgeon?’ Her voice was incredulous. She knew he must have medical training—the full implications just hadn’t sunk home until now. ‘Anna Lunn’s brother is a surgeon?’

Anna didn’t have a cent to her name. This wasn’t making sense.

‘I’m a surgeon all the time,’ he told her. ‘I’m only Anna Lunn’s brother when I’m allowed to be.’ He gave a short, harsh laugh, and then pushed away whatever it was that bothered him. ‘But my problems can wait. I can certainly see your patients and deal with anything urgent. Let’s get Charlie sent off with dignity, and then take time for a cup of coffee. The only thing is…’

‘Yes?’

He hesitated. ‘It’s taken me weeks to bully my sister to come and see you,’ he said, and the reluctance to give her more work was plainly written on his face. ‘We had to leave her children in emergency child care at the Bay Beach Homes while she came to see you. It’s almost been like a military operation to get her here, and if I let her go home now I won’t get her back. Will you see her?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘There’s no “of course” about it,’ he said. ‘If you do, it’s on the condition that I look after your urgent cases after that.’

‘There’s no need.’

‘There is a need.’

He looked at her more closely then, and Em wondered just what he was seeing. She was pale at the best of times, tall, over-thin from skipping too many meals or eating on the run, and her slimness was accentuated by her long dark hair braided down her back.

Normally braiding her hair back from her face suited her, but she was aware that fatigue had created shadows under her brown eyes and made her finely boned face look etched with strain. Her colourful print dress, one of several that she wore almost as her uniform, now only accentuated her pallor.

And, yes, he could see her exhaustion. His next words confirmed it. ‘Don’t you have any help at all?’ he asked explosively, and she spread her hands in a negative.

‘Why the hell not?’ he demanded. ‘Surely Bay Beach is big enough for two doctors—or even three?’

‘I was born here and I love it,’ she said simply. ‘But there are lots of lovely little coastal towns in Australia for doctors to choose from, and most of them aren’t as far from the city as this. Doctors want restaurants and private schools and universities for their children. We’ve been advertising since my last partner left two years ago. We haven’t had a single response.’

‘So you’re it.’

‘I’m it.’

‘Hell.’

‘It’s not so bad.’ She ran a hand over the smooth silkiness of her braid and sighed as she looked down at Charlie. ‘Except sometimes. Except now. I’m so glad you were here—so I know that there was nothing else that could have been done to save my friend.’

‘I can see that.’ He, too, looked down at Charlie’s limp body. ‘Damn.’

‘It was time for him to die,’ she said softly.

‘Like it’s time for you to go to sleep.’

‘Nope.’ Another weary sigh. Then Em pulled herself together, and her usually laughing eyes managed a smile. ‘There’s no rest for the wicked, Dr Lunn,’ she told him. ‘Or should that be Mr Lunn?’

‘Make that Jonas.’

Jonas…

It sounded nice, she thought. Right. ‘OK, Jonas,’ she agreed. The undertaker was pulling up outside. ‘Let’s say our goodbyes to Charlie and then I’ll get on with my morning’s work.’

‘You heard what I said,’ he growled. ‘You see my sister, and then I’ll take over until you’ve had a rest.’

The temptation was almost overwhelming. She had two patients in hospital who she really should be with now. If she left Dr Lunn—Jonas—with the surgery, she could see them, have breakfast-cum-lunch and maybe even have a nap before afternoon clinic.

‘Do it,’ he said, and she could hardly resist. Heavens!

But to hand over her work to a stranger was totally irresponsible.

‘I’m fully qualified,’ he told her, sensing her last qualm. ‘A quick phone call to Sydney Central will confirm it. I promise.’

She believed him and it was good to resist any further. ‘It sounds wonderful,’ she admitted. ‘You’re on. But, first, let’s see your sister.’

‘She won’t tell me what the trouble is, but she’s scared stiff.’

Half an hour later Em was back by her desk. What had happened seemed unreal. But before her sat Anna Lunn, pale-faced and silent. Gripping her hand, as if willing strength into her, Jonas looked almost as grim.

‘I don’t know what’s going on, Dr Mainwaring,’ he told Em, and she cast him a quick glance. He’d turned formal. It was a good idea. This had to be purely professional.

‘Anna doesn’t let me close. She and I went our different ways early, and she’s never let me help her, even though bringing up her kids on her own must be a nightmare. But now… I came down to see her a couple of weeks ago, and something’s scaring her. She won’t tell me what. But I know her well enough to realise it’s something bad. I’ve been badgering her by phone from Sydney ever since. Finally I’ve made her to agree to come and see you.’

‘Anna?’ Em turned her full attention onto the woman before her.

Like her brother, Anna was a vivid redhead, but there the resemblance ended. Younger than her brother, she actually looked much older than him. Her short red curls were a bit uneven, as if they’d been cut at home, her green eyes were shadowed and she seemed…defeated.

In fact, she looked as if the world had dealt her some really hard knocks, and with this one she was about to topple over.

‘Y-yes?’ Her voice was barely a whisper, but Em could hear the fear.

‘Would you like your brother to leave so you can tell me what’s wrong in private?’ Em cast a warning glance at Jonas. Having brought her this far, he must understand he had to be prepared to back off.

But he knew. ‘I’ll go if you like,’ he offered, and half rose, but Anna’s hand came out and caught him. ‘No.’

Jonas sank again. ‘Then tell us what’s wrong, Anna,’ he said softly. ‘We’re with you all the way. Both of us are. But you have to tell us what’s happening.’

Anna took a deep breath. She raised her face to Em’s and her eyes were like those of a rabbit caught in headlights—terrified beyond belief.

‘Tell us, Anna,’ Em said gently, and the girl shuddered.

‘I don’t…I don’t know if I can face it. My kids…’

‘Just tell us.’

‘There’s a lump in my breast. I think I have breast cancer.’

There was, indeed, a lump in Anna’s breast. It was as big as a pea and close to the nipple, and it moved a little as Em gently palpated it.

‘How long have you been able to feel it?’ Em asked, carefully examining the rest of the breast. There was nothing else—just the one tiny, single lump.

‘F-four weeks.’

‘Is that all? That’s great,’ Em said warmly. She had Anna on the examination couch behind the screen. Jonas stayed out of the way, but he was still within earshot. ‘It’s very small and you’ve come early.’

‘Early?’

‘Some women worry about a lump like this for a year or more without having it checked,’ Em told her. ‘You have no idea the kind of trouble that can cause. But you’ve come quickly. And this is small. It’s less than a centimetre across, I’d think,’ she added for the benefit of the listening Jonas.

But Anna was trembling under her hands, afraid to meet her eyes. ‘So it is cancer?’

‘It might well be a small breast cancer,’ Em admitted. There was no use giving false reassurance when the most important thing was to get Anna to agree to have the necessary tests. ‘But there’s also a very good chance it’s just a harmless cyst. Cysts in breasts are common—much more common than cancer—and they feel very similar. It needs a biopsy to tell the difference.’

‘So…’ The girl’s eyes flew to hers, hope flaring. ‘This may well be just a waste of time. If it’s just a cyst, I can go home and forget it.’

‘Yes, but you can’t go home and forget it yet,’ Em told her. ‘Because you may be right in your first guess. Your age means that you’re in a low-risk group for breast cancer, but we have to exclude that possibility.’

‘But I don’t want to know.’ Anna put her hand to her mouth as if to stifle a sob. ‘If it is…cancer…then I want to be as normal as I can for as long as I can. I have three kids. I want to be there for them. Jonas made me come, but if it’s cancer then it’s better not to know.’

‘Well, that’s exactly where you’re wrong.’ Em handed Anna back her blouse—and a tissue—and waited until she was decent. Then she pushed back the screen so Jonas could join in the conversation. ‘It’s far, far better to know.’

‘Why? So you can cut off my breast?’

‘That hardly ever happens any more,’ Jonas growled. Unable to restrain himself, he rose and moved to give his sister a hug. ‘For heaven’s sake…Stoopid. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have eased your fears.’

‘By agreeing I may have cancer?’ She was looking wildly from one to another. She was very close to the edge, Em thought, and knew this visit was the culmination of weeks without sleeping. ‘No one’s easing my fears now.’

‘I can do that,’ Em said gently, but there was a note of iron in her voice. What Anna didn’t need was false sympathy or reassurance. She needed facts. ‘Sit down, Anna.’

And Anna sat, still looking like a hunted animal. She was like a tigress defending her cubs, Em thought, and suddenly realised that the comparison was appropriate. Anna wasn’t scared for herself as much as for the three small children who depended on her.

‘Anna, your brother’s a surgeon,’ she told her, casting a quick glance at Jonas. He could intervene any time he liked, but she sensed he wanted this to come from her. ‘He’ll back up everything I say, but I want you to listen.’

She held up her hand.

‘One, you’ve come very early, and the lump I’m feeling seems very well defined. That means it’s either a nice little cyst, which we can confirm with a biopsy, or, at worst, it’ll be a small cancer that we can remove. Now, I can’t make promises until the tests have been done, but if, as I suspect, it’s confined to the one small area, then there’ll be no question of you losing your breast, even if it is cancer.’

‘But I’d want…’ Anna gasped, then continued. ‘If it’s cancer I’d want it off. All off. The whole breast.’

‘Surgeons don’t remove breasts without very good reason,’ Em told her. ‘Even if it is cancer, with modern surgical techniques there’s usually no need. They’d simply take away the affected part. That means you’d be left with a scar and one breast a little smaller than the other.’

‘And that’s it?’ Anna looked as if she just plain didn’t believe Em. ‘What about chemotherapy?’

‘If it’s as early as I suspect it must be, then you’d undergo a six-week course of radiotherapy just to mop up any stray cells. Then you and the oncologist would decide whether you wanted chemo.’

‘But…’

‘The survival rate for early breast cancer is great,’ Em said firmly. ‘After surgery and radiotherapy it’s well over ninety percent. And it’s not the fearful experience it once was. Honestly, Anna, about the worst side effect of current chemotherapy is fatigue as your body copes with medication, and hair loss. And hair loss is no big deal.’

She grinned. She may as well be honest here. ‘You and your brother are so good-looking that having shiny scalps would only make the pair of you even more attractive. It’d just bring you back to be on a level with the rest of us ordinary mortals.’

‘And I’d shave with you,’ Jonas said promptly, and he finally succeeded in drawing a smile from his sister.

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Watch me!’

Em blinked. The thought of a bald Jonas…

Good grief. Once more, there was a wave of pure fantasy. Jonas bald…

She was right. They’d both be stunningly attractive, no matter what they did to their hair, or…or anything.

But Anna was back on consequences. ‘I don’t want to be bald.’

‘So you never need to be,’ Em told her. ‘The health system in this country makes sure you’ll get a wig if you want one, no matter what your income is, and wigs are great.’ She smiled at the pair of them. The tension was decreasing by the minute. ‘You know June Mathews?’

‘I…yes.’ Everyone knew June. She ran the local minimart. June was a stunning strawberry blonde. Or, to put it more truthfully, she was an interim strawberry blonde. Until she tired of it.

‘June doesn’t dye her hair.’ Em’s smile widened. ‘Whenever June tires of her hairstyle, she just buys a new one.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘I’m not kidding.’ Once more, Em’s voice gentled. ‘She doesn’t mind me telling people who need to know, as long as I ask that you don’t tell anyone else. June suffers from alopecia—hair loss—and she’s been wearing a wig for twenty years.’

‘I don’t believe it!’ This was clearly a side of June that stunned Anna, temporarily diverting her from more serious issues. Which was just what Em wanted.

‘Believe it. And I know there’s nothing June would rather do than help you choose a wig if it ever becomes necessary. She adores wig-buying. She told me once that choosing hair is better fun even than sex!’

Then, as Anna blinked in astonishment, Em pushed home her advantage. She smiled her most reassuring smile. ‘But, Anna, we’re crossing way too many bridges, and we’re crossing them way too fast. As I said, chances are we’re talking about a cyst.’

‘You’ll be fine, Anna,’ Jonas added, and Em heard the catch of emotion in his voice. This was his baby sister after all.

Em looked at Jonas and she realised with a sense of shock that he, too, was asking for reassurance. For facts! As a surgeon, he must know the statistics, but he wanted to hear them out loud.

Cancer was a frightening word, she thought, no matter who faced it, and the only way to lessen the fear was to confront it head on.

Help me, he was asking, and it was suddenly all Em could do not to put out a hand and touch his. Her smile died.

Because brother and sister were both afraid of one thing. Anna was taking a long, drawn-out breath, searching for courage for the next question.

‘If…if it’s cancer, it’ll come back,’ she said finally, and her voice was now strangely calm. ‘I’ll die. My kids… Sam and Matt and Ruby. Ruby’s only four. Who’ll look after them?’

‘Anna, I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours giving piggy-backs to your three terrors,’ Jonas said, in a tone of one much maligned. ‘I love your kids dearly and of course I’d take care of them, but for the sake of my aching back, can we arrange to have you live?’

‘I…’

‘Please, Anna.’

Anna took another deep breath. ‘I don’t have a choice, really. Do I?’

‘We don’t,’ Jonas said. He rose and his hands clenched and unclenched. He’d also been under a huge amount of strain, Em realised, wondering just what was wrong with his sister. This must come almost as a relief. There were so many worse diagnoses than early breast cancer. ‘Anna, I love your kids but, let’s face it, they’d be much better off with their mum than with their Uncle Jonas.’

He grinned then, a wide, lazy grin that sent Em’s insides doing crazy things again. Stupid things! She had to force herself to focus on what he was saying.

‘I’m willing to stay in Bay Beach while you need me,’ he was telling Anna. ‘In fact, I have a feeling that Dr Mainwaring could use some help, too, and with two women in need, what’s a man to do but stay?’ He flashed them another grin, even wider than the first. ‘So can we organise these tests and get on with it, please?’

Anna looked up, long and hard, at her brother—and then she turned to Em. In her face was a slackening of terror. There was still fear, but less. The hardest decision had been made.

And the smile she finally gave almost matched her brother’s. ‘Yes, please,’ she said.

‘Then let’s do it.’ Em reached for the phone and started dialling.

CHAPTER TWO

EM WOKE to afternoon sunlight.

The feeling was so novel that for a moment she thought she must be dreaming. Then the morning’s events came flooding back, and with them came emotions so complex she had trouble taking them all in.

First there was Charlie’s death. Despite his age, there was a sensation of emptiness and grief which she needed time to absorb.

Em tried hard to stay dispassionate but, as the only doctor in a small country town it was impossible. And she’d known Charlie all her life. Em’s parents had died when she was tiny. She’d been raised by her grandfather, and Grandpa and Charlie had been close mates.

With Charlie’s death had gone one of her last links to her childhood—to memories of weekends fishing in Grandpa’s old tub of a boat, or sitting on the pier baiting hooks while the two men yarned in the sun—or having them make her endless cups of tea as she’d studied her medical texts while they’d gossiped easily over her head.

She’d loved them both. Grandpa had died two years ago, and now Charlie had gone to join him.

She’d miss Charlie so much.

And now there was Jonas…

She was so muddled in her thoughts. She’d lain down for a few minutes and two hours later she was waking to confusion—the intermingling sadness of Charlie’s death, the tension of the lump in Anna’s breast…

And the thought of Jonas.

Why did he keep overriding everything else? He was just there, a lightening of the dreariness of her awful day, and the sensation was so novel that she let it dwell.

Well, she let it dwell for all of thirty seconds. Then she rose, rinsed her face, gave her mirror a good talking-to for being lax enough to allow another doctor—about whom she knew nothing—to take over her duties.

She needed to check on him, she told herself. She needed to know who this man was. She might instinctively believe him, but she was trusting him with her patients and the medical board would look pretty darkly at someone who just stood aside and let a quack take over their duties.

And one phone call was all it took, to a long-time friend who was an anaesthetist at Sydney Central.

‘You have Jonas Lunn working for you?’ Dominic’s voice from the staffroom at the Sydney hospital was an incredulous squeak. ‘Em, the man is brilliant. Brilliant! He’s been offered a plum teaching job overseas and the powers that be here are already wondering how we can fill his shoes. He’s the best—as well as being one of the most caring professionals I’ve ever worked with!’

Now, how had she known he’d say that?

‘You hang on to him,’ Dominic said seriously. ‘Em, if he’s offering to help, you take all the help you can get.’

Hmm. Maybe. He was only here for the day, she told herself.

So with a struggle she hauled her muddled thoughts into order and sallied forth to once again become Bay Beach’s sole doctor.

But she was no longer sole doctor. Jonas wasn’t giving the position up lightly.

‘Go home,’ he growled as she opened the surgery door and peeped in. ‘I’m busy.’

He was, too. Young Lucy Belcombe, nine years old and accustomed to lurching from one catastrophe to another, was now suffering from a greenstick fracture of the forearm. Jonas had the X-ray up on the screen so Em could see at a glance what was happening. Jonas was applying a last layer of plaster as Lucy’s mother watched, and Mrs Belcombe was obviously deeply impressed that such a splendid-looking male was taking care of her daughter.

These people don’t even know for sure Jonas is a doctor, Em thought in a little indignation.

He was, though. He looked up at her and he smiled, and Dominic’s words were confirmed. The impression he gave was of pure competence. ‘We’re doing really well without you, Dr Mainwaring,’ he told her. ‘Aren’t we, Lucy?’

And Lucy agreed. ‘Dr Lunn told me I was the bravest kid in Bay Beach when he gave me the needle,’ Lucy told her proudly. Then she gave a sheepish grin. ‘And he also said I was the dopiest.’

‘Hmm.’ Em looked again at the X-ray. Lucy had certainly done her arm some damage, though she’d been lucky in that it was just a greenstick fracture. ‘Tree-climbing?’ she guessed.

‘A really big one out on Illing’s Bluff,’ Lucy admitted, not without pride, and Em winced.

‘Oh, Lucy. If you climb then you’re supposed to hang on. I guess Dr Lunn’s not far wrong when he says it was stupid.’

‘Yeah, it was a bit dopey.’ Lucy gave her a rather white-faced smile and then looked sideways at her mum, as if wondering whether she should admit the next bit. ‘It won me five bucks, though, ’cos it was a bet and I got to the top.’

‘And did you get an extra payment for coming down the fast way?’ Em demanded, and Jonas chuckled.

He had the nicest chuckle, she thought. Sort of deep and resonant and infectious. It made you want to smile just to hear it.

‘The very fastest way,’ he told Em, still chuckling. ‘Lucy’s just lucky she didn’t land on her head. Will you deduct the five dollars from the clothes she’s torn, Mrs Belcombe?’

But Mary Belcombe just gave him a reluctant smile and shook her head. Lucy was the youngest of her six daredevil kids. Broken bones were part of her lifestyle.

‘I’m good at patching,’ she said simply. ‘I have to be.’

‘And so are we.’ Jonas gave the arm one last long look, tied a sling around it and popped the plastered arm inside. ‘Right. One patched arm. I want to check it again tomorrow to make sure I’ve allowed enough for swelling. Meanwhile, if it starts hurting much more than it is now, give us a ring.’

‘Give me a ring,’ Em butted in, and got a sideways grin from Jonas for her pains.

‘Scared I’m doing you out of a job, Dr Mainwaring?’

‘You can have all of my job that you like,’ she told him, and the smile died.

‘Yeah. There’s certainly a heap of it. Far too much for one person.’

‘One person is all there is,’ she told him, and ruffled Lucy’s hair. ‘Goodbye, Lucy. Take care.’

‘Care isn’t in her vocabulary,’ his mother said bitterly, ushering her daughter out the door. ‘Thank you, Dr Lunn.’ And then she turned to Em and added in a conspiratorial whisper that Jonas couldn’t help but hear, ‘Oh, my dear, he’s gorgeous. I’d hang onto him if I were you.’

And she left, with Em blushing from ear to ear.

‘I’ve left detailed notes on everyone I’ve seen, if you’d like to review them. With the Belcombes gone, Jonas gave her an efficient summary of the last two hours. Mrs Crawford’s the only one of any real concern, and that’s mainly because of her diabetes. She’s had intermittent vomiting for two days. I don’t think it’s anything major—she says she ate some fish she thinks was off—but she’s starting to look dehydrated and her blood sugar’s up. So Amy and I admitted her.’

‘You and Amy admitted her?’ Jonas’s businesslike tone was designed to bring her down to earth, but in truth it did the opposite. To have someone take over was such a novel experience it practically took her breath away. ‘You what?’

‘Amy and I admitted her,’ Jonas said, and his eyes twinkled. ‘With the help of your nursing staff. I’ve put up a drip and left her on hourly obs. Not a tricky concept, Dr Mainwaring.’

‘But strange,’ she threw back at him. ‘No one admits anyone to hospital around here except me.’

‘Welcome to the new order, then,’ he told her, and watched with interest while her eyebrows hit the roof.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Wouldn’t you like a new partner—temporarily?’

She could only stare, and the laughter lines in his broad face creased further. ‘Close your mouth,’ he told her kindly. ‘You’ll collect flies. And do stop looking like I’ve slapped you across the face with a wet fish. I’m only asking for a job.’

‘Asking for a job?’

‘A temporary one,’ he told her kindly, as if she were just a little bit stupid. ‘I need it.’ He still smiled, but his look softened as if he understood just what his offer meant. As if he knew just how exhausted she really was. ‘Sit,’ he told her calmly, and, shocked into submission, Emily sat.

‘You’re going to explain?’ she asked without much hope, and the laughter was back again.

‘I might.’ And then the smile died. ‘Em, Anna needs me but she won’t let me close. Regardless of the outcome of her tests, I need to be here for her for a while. Thank you for getting those tests organised so quickly, by the way,’ he added. ‘Breast Screen in Blairglen rang an hour ago and said they’ve fitted Anna in at ten-thirty tomorrow.’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘Though I’m afraid that means I can’t start work properly until the day after tomorrow.’

‘You can’t start work properly…’

‘Em, Anna doesn’t let me near,’ he said, still with the patience of someone dealing with a person who was terminally stupid. ‘Kevin—Anna’s de facto husband—was a creep who treated Anna like dirt. I knew he was a creep at the outset. I was unwise enough to say so, and it’s haunted me ever since. She kept me away while she was with him, and she probably stayed with him far too long just to prove me wrong. And now she needs me, though she won’t admit it. She’s desperate for help.’

‘She’s very proud.’

‘Too damned proud,’ Jonas growled, and Em gave him a curious look. How would he like it if the shoe were on the other foot? she thought, and she knew instinctively that this man was as independent as his sister.

But he wasn’t thinking of his independence now. ‘There’s a large bridge for us to build, and it isn’t going to happen overnight,’ he told her, and Em nodded.

‘Do you have other family?’ she asked curiously, and he shook his head.

‘No. There’s only Anna and me. That’s probably why this has happened. After our Dad died, I was overly protective. She had to rebel and a miserable partnership with an undeserving creep was the result.’

‘You can’t blame yourself for ever,’ she told him, and received another of his blinding smiles for her pains.

‘No. I can’t. But I can still try and help her. If you’ll let me.’

‘Like…how?’

‘By employing me.’

She looked up at him. He was large and self-possessed and supremely sure of himself, she thought. And she didn’t need Dominic’s words to know he was competent. She just had to look at him to know that this was a surgeon with skill.

And yet…

‘A surgeon wants to work in Bay Beach?’ Her voice was incredulous. It sounded unbelievable.

It was unbelievable.

‘Only for a month or two. Depending…’

‘Depending on what?’

‘On Anna’s diagnosis.’

‘You want to be here for her.’

‘Of course.’ It was simply said, but Em knew she was hearing the truth. And it stunned her. How many high-powered city surgeons would drop their lifestyles for their sister’s sake?

‘You can take time off?’ she asked, and he nodded—as if his decision was of no importance.

‘Yes. As it happens, I was about to take an overseas posting—a teaching job in Scotland. I came down here to say goodbye to Anna, and found her in such a state that I put the job on hold. I knew whatever was frightening her wasn’t going to go away fast, and I need time. To build those bridges.’

Once again he’d taken her breath away. To simply walk away from his profession…

‘Why not stay with Anna, then?’ she suggested. ‘I assume you’re not married? If you’ve been on surgeon’s wages, then surely you can just take a holiday.’

‘Anna won’t let me stay with her, and if there’s no good reason for me to stay in the town then she’ll reject me completely. I’m staying in a hotel—I’m not even staying with her now. As I said, we have a long way to go.’

He was totally brisk—businesslike in what seemed, to him, to be a very sensible arrangement. ‘Which reminds me,’ he said, ignoring her raised eyebrows. ‘If I’m working here as a doctor, are there doctors’ quarters where I can stay?’

‘Nowhere big enough for you,’ she said without thinking, and his ready laughter sprang back.

‘Hey, I’m not that big.’

Maybe not in size, but in presence, Em thought a little desperately, and she tried hard to get her scattered wits in order. OK. He needed accommodation. He’d help out for a month or so, but he needed somewhere to stay.

The thought of his help was tantalising. Even if he just did a couple of nights’ call a week he’d be a blessing, she thought wistfully. Two nights’ guaranteed sleep a week…

‘I can willingly share your load,’ he said softly, and she blinked. Heck, was she so transparent?

‘I can manage on my own.’

‘Just like Anna.’

‘We don’t have a choice,’ she snapped, and with that the laughter died completely.

‘Yes,’ he told her, and a trace of sternness sounded in his tone. ‘You do have a choice. I’m here for both of you—if you let me.’

Jonas meant it.

He was absolutely positive, he’d brook no argument, and an hour later Em watched him drive away in his exotic little Alfa Romeo while she blinked back her disbelief.

She had a partner—for a month.

‘Maybe for more if I need to be here for longer,’ he’d growled, and then had added, ‘And, please, God, I don’t need it.’

She could only agree with him. Please, let Anna not have cancer. But if she did then Em would welcome Jonas with open arms while they waited for Anna to heal, she decided. To share her workload would be bliss. Her surgery was big enough for both of them.

But…her home?

That was the only part of the arrangement which left her less than satisfied. The doctors’ house at the back of the hospital had been optimistically built to accommodate up to four doctors. It therefore had four bedrooms and four bathrooms. Em, and her ancient dog, Bernard, rattled around in it.

But it still only had one living room and one kitchen!

So Jonas was heading back to his hotel tonight, but as of tomorrow she’d have him permanently under her feet.

A partner and a housemate—for a month!

But not until tomorrow, she told herself desperately. By then she should have time to get her wayward emotions under control!

Em met Jonas again sooner than the next day. She met him that night.

Two hours later, Em parked outside Home Two, one of the homes making up Bay Beach Orphanage, and recognised the car parked out front straight away.

How many people in town drove silver Alfa Romeos? None that she knew of, she thought. Except Jonas.

What on earth was he doing here?

Drat her stupid emotions, she thought. Why did the sight of his car make her heart jolt?

As her friend opened the front door, Em had to school her expression to hide her surprise, and she had to force her voice to sound normal. It was no mean feat, but somehow she did it.

‘Hi, Lori.’ She smiled at her friend but gave a sideways, cautious glance at the Alfa. ‘Am I intruding?’

‘Of course you’re not.’ Lori pulled the door wide, allowing her to see Jonas sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up at her and smiled, and Em’s heart did that lurching thing she was becoming familiar with and didn’t understand in the least. ‘Jonas and I are having a cup of tea. Do you have time to join us?’

‘I might have,’ Em said, wary. ‘Thanks to Jonas.’

‘He told me about taking over your surgery.’ Lori pressed her friend’s hand. ‘And about Charlie. Em, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s OK.’

But it wasn’t. She’d hardly had time to think of Charlie, but now she blinked back unexpected tears. Damn, she had to give herself time to mourn.

When would she fit that in? Tuesday week, eleven to twelve?

‘I… Maybe I won’t have that tea. I’ll just see Robby and then I’ll go,’ she told Lori. Robby was the reason she’d come. Whatever Jonas was here for, she had to concentrate on her work.

Which was Robby.

And he needed concentration. Robby was eight months old. He’d been orphaned in a car crash two months ago. Badly burned, he’d only recently been transferred from hospital to the Bay Beach Home.

Robby still really needed city medical facilities—physiotherapy, occupational therapy and the associated bevy of health-care services—but his aunt lived in Bay Beach and she wouldn’t hear of him going anywhere else.

Neither would she take him in herself—or allow the thought of someone else adopting him. So Robby was being cared for by Lori at the home, with Em providing daily medical care.

There were worse fates, Em thought. Lori offered no long-term solution for the little boy, but she loved him to bits.

As did Em. Robby had spent two weeks in hospital in Sydney and then, at his aunt’s insistence, had spent six weeks at Bay Beach General Hospital. In that time he’d twisted himself around Em’s heart like a hairy worm, so much so that when she entered his bedroom now and the little boy reached up his arms, she pulled him to her and hugged as hard as his burned little body would allow.

He was tiny, underweight for his age, with scarring, healing wounds and skin grafts still covering his left side. He’d been burned right up to his chin. The only parts of him that seemed unhurt were his bright little brown eyes, his snub nose and his mop of silver blond curls.

Yes, Em loved him. She’d unashamedly lost her professional detachment, and she’d lost her heart completely.

‘Have you been waiting for me?’ she whispered. ‘I thought you’d be asleep, you ragamuffin!’

‘He’s supposed to be.’ Lori had followed her friend into the room. ‘He’s been down for half an hour. But he’s so accustomed to seeing you in the evenings that I can’t get him to sleep until you come.’

‘What’s the problem?’ Em started at the sound of the deep tones. Jonas also had followed them in and was leaning against the door, watching them.

Em and baby were quite a pair, he thought, and if Em could have known what he was thinking she would have blushed to her socks.

She was a strikingly good-looking woman, tall and dark and beautiful, and now, with the child pressed against her breast, she looked stunningly maternal. Robby was still heavily bandaged. He wore a smooth elastic skin to stop his grafts from scarring, and his white dressings were in stark contrast to Em’s smooth and darker skin.

The sight set Jonas back more than he cared to admit. He shifted against the door and rephrased his question. ‘What happened to the baby?’

And Lori told him, while he watched Em’s skilful hands lift away dressings and elastic to check the healing wounds.

He could have helped, he thought—it took several minutes and Lori assisted, but with Jonas’s help it would have been quicker—but he was content, for the moment, to watch.

He was getting to know Emily Mainwaring, and the more he saw, the more he approved.

‘What?’ Em said crossly, as she taped the last dressing, and he started at her tone.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes. I suppose you have seen burns dressed before.’

‘I have,’ He smiled at her, defusing her crossness. ‘Many times.’

‘There’s nothing different here.’

‘By the look of those burns, he should still be in hospital,’ Jonas said cautiously, feeling his way. Lori was watching both of them with interest, but the tension was all between Jonas and Em.

‘Probably. He has more skin grafts to go,’ Em told him, once more gathering the little boy to her breast and cradling him like her own. ‘But he was becoming institutionalised. I couldn’t bear it.’

‘And Lori’s a good house mother?’

‘The best,’ Em said warmly, and looked over Robby’s fuzzy head at her friend. ‘We’ve had some wonderful housemothers here. Wendy. Erin. The most committed women… And Lori’s the absolute best.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Jonas said simply. ‘I suspected as much, and I’m grateful. I persuaded Lori to look after Anna’s kids today on a temporary basis—I gather she’s the only home mother without a full house—but if there’s a major problem and Anna needs an operation then they’ll need to come here for a while.’

Em frowned, thinking it through. ‘Is that possible, Lori?’

‘It is,’ Lori told her. ‘I’ve just got off the phone from the powers that be. We can juggle it. Jonas wants something concrete to tell his sister tonight. She needs to know that, no matter what, her kids will be safe.’

‘She’s having second thoughts,’ Jonas told Em. ‘About having the tests. She says there’s no one to look after the children if she has to have an operation, so why bother having the tests at all?’

‘She’s badly frightened,’ Em said, and he nodded.

‘I know. That’s why everything has to be settled and easy.’

‘You don’t think you could assure her you’d take care of the kids yourself?’

‘Even if Anna would agree—which she probably wouldn’t—I don’t think I could,’ he admitted honestly, his engaging smile flashing back again. ‘They’re four, six and eight years old respectively, and I’m a bachelor, born and bred. My childminding skills are about nil. It’d be much easier to work for you and pay Lori to do it.’

‘Coward.’

He chuckled out loud. ‘Rather be a chicken than a dead hen.’ Then he paused. Robby had snuggled into Em’s shoulder and was falling asleep before their eyes.

Institutionalised? Maybe not, he thought as he watched. This wasn’t a baby who was turning away from the world. The little one was bonding with the adult who’d become permanent. With Em.

And Em knew it. The bonding was a state Em mistrusted, and it was the real reason the little boy was no longer in hospital. She couldn’t handle her increasing feelings for him, but she had to keep treating him. Apart from being the only doctor in the place, she couldn’t bear not to.

She held him now, and the same familiar longing flooded through her. The longing to hold him for ever had hit unexpectedly when she’d treated him the night his parents had died—the night of the accident—and it had never faded. And, quite simply, she didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

‘Em, you know Lori and you’re great with Anna. I have an idea.’ Jonas was speaking to her, and she had to force her attention away from her baby—no, her patient—and back to Jonas. He glanced at his watch. ‘Have you eaten?’

Eaten? He had to be joking. When did she get dinner before nine at night?

‘No,’ she said shortly, and he nodded.

‘Then can I ask you to eat and then do a house call?’ he said. ‘With me? I’ll prepay you for the house call with fish and chips on the beach.’

‘Fish and chips…’

‘You do eat fish and chips?’ Once more came his resigned tone that told her he thought she was a dope, and she had to chuckle. OK, she was acting like one. Maybe she even deserved to be treated as such.

‘Sure I eat fish and chips,’ she told him. ‘You show me a resident of Bay Beach who doesn’t! If I’m hungry enough—like now—I’ll even eat the newspaper they’re wrapped in. But what’s your house call?’

‘To my sister.’

She’d suspected as much. ‘Why?’

‘To assure her that Lori is perfectly capable of childcare. She doesn’t trust me. It took me three days to have her leave the kids here for two hours this morning. Now I’m working on leaving them here again tomorrow, and then on the possibility of longer-term child care after that. You could help.’

‘Why would she listen to me any more than she’d listen to you?’

‘She doesn’t trust men,’ Jonas said simply, and behind them Lori grinned.

‘Wise lady.’

‘Hey!’ Jonas smiled at them both, and spread his hands in mute appeal. ‘What’s there to mistrust?’

Everything, thought Em, but she didn’t say a word.

‘Do you have any more urgent calls?’ he asked.

‘I have an evening ward round.’

‘That can wait. I’d imagine you wear a beeper.’

‘Of course I wear a beeper.’

‘Then I’ll help you with your ward round and then the evening’s ours,’ he told her grandly. ‘Apart from house calls and emergencies. What more could two people want?’

What, indeed?

They ate their dinner on the beach because, quite simply, it was the most beautiful and most lonely place to be and what Em needed most was solitude to absorb the fact of Charlie’s death.

Strangely, she didn’t mind that her much-needed solitude was shared with Jonas, and it didn’t seem less peaceful because he was with her. He bought them fish and chips and soda water—‘I’d prefer wine but with your workload I’m guessing you’d refuse’—and then settled beside her. Then he let her alone with her thoughts.

Like Em, he seemed content to munch his fish and chips, and stare out to where the moon was just starting to glimmer over the horizon. Somehow, though, he seemed to gaze inward just the same.

So she was left with her thoughts. It was the most beautiful place, Em thought. Charlie had loved this beach.

And Charlie’s death was suddenly very, very real.

‘You loved him very much,’ Jonas said after a while, and Em looked down as his hand moved across to gently cover hers. It wasn’t an attempt at intimacy, though. It was a gesture of comfort—nothing more—and it warmed her more than she could say.

There was nothing between them but the truth. ‘Yes,’ she agreed simply. ‘Since Grandpa died we’ve been even closer. Charlie’s always been my best friend, and after Grandpa died he was all I’ve had.’

‘When did your parents die?’

‘When I was tiny. They died like Robby’s parents. In a car crash.’

‘And that’s why you feel so strongly about Robby?’

The idea startled her. She hadn’t seen it like that but now, looking at it dispassionately, she realised maybe he was right.

‘I guess so.’

‘Except he doesn’t have a Grandpa and a Charlie to love him.’

‘Maybe I was lucky.’

‘So it seems.’ Jonas stirred and poured himself out more soda water. ‘I wish I’d known them.’

And suddenly she wished that he’d known them, too. Her two lovely old men.

‘They were amazing,’ she told him. Her tired grey eyes creased into a smile of memory. ‘They were a machiavellian pair of old devils, they got into every mischief they possibly could, but they brought me up so well.’

‘I can see that.’

It was a compliment, direct and to the point, and its simplicity made Em flush. ‘I didn’t mean…’

‘I know you didn’t,’ he said softly. ‘If you had, I wouldn’t have said it.’

She looked down at him for a long, long moment. He was lying full length on the sand as he sipped his soda water. His hand was still on hers and his big body seemed to go on for ever. He was lazily watching the moon as it slid silently up over the horizon—a thing worth watching—but, by watching it and not her, he made her feel apart from him. As if she still had her solitude yet she wasn’t alone.

It was an impossible feeling to describe. Apart, and yet not. Warmed? Warmer than she’d felt for years.

Just…not so alone.

This man was only here for a month, she told herself, shaken more than she cared to admit by the feelings she was experiencing. She was here for life, and he was here for such a short time. And then she’d be alone again…

‘Why did you come to practise in Bay Beach?’ he asked, and she started. It was as if he’d read her thoughts.

‘There was never a choice.’

‘Because Grandpa and Charlie were here?’

‘That, and the fact that I love Bay Beach.’

‘I can’t imagine there’s much of a social life in Bay Beach?’ His statement was a question.

‘No, but that’s easy.’ She grinned. ‘As sole doctor, I don’t have time for a social life.’

‘You do now,’ he told her easily. ‘While I’m here you can have some free time.’

‘Maybe I need to pick up a boyfriend, then,’ she said, trying to keep it light. ‘For a month. It seems a bit hard on the bloke, though. After a month I go back to being general medico and dogsbody and he’d get what was left over. Which wouldn’t be very much at all.’

And then, at the end of her sentence, the lightness faded and she couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice. Jonas heard it as she knew he must.

‘You resent it?’

‘No.’ She shook her head, and her braid swung with decision. ‘I don’t. At least, I normally don’t. It’s only sometimes…’

‘Like today?’

‘Like today,’ she agreed. ‘I told Claire Fraine to go to Blairglen two weeks before her baby was due. She refused—she said it was stupid as her babies always take ages to come and there’d be plenty of time to get to Blairglen after she went into labour. So what happens? I get to deliver twins in the middle of the night.’ She bit her lip.

‘And I almost lost one,’ she admitted. ‘One of the twins wasn’t picked up by Blairglen’s obstetrician—heaven knows why—so we were expecting a single baby, and Thomas came by surprise after his much bigger sister. At only three pounds it was pure chance and the prompt arrival of the flying neonatal service that stopped him dying on me.’

‘No wonder you’re exhausted.’

‘Yes, and they don’t see,’ she said bitterly, ‘that by taking chances themselves, they put me at risk.’ She shook her head. ‘No. That came out wrong. I’m not suggesting I was at risk.’

‘But you were at risk—at risk of breaking your heart over a needlessly dead baby,’ Jonas told her, understanding absolutely. He rose and looked down at her for a long moment, then held out his hands to hers. It was an imperious gesture—he was a man accustomed to getting his own way—and, rather to her own surprise, Em took them. As he gripped her and tugged her to her feet, the feeling of strength communicated itself to her, and it felt strange and warm.

And…dangerous?

But he didn’t seem to feel it. ‘I’ve come to a decision. What you need, Dr Mainwaring,’ he told her with all due solemnity, ‘is a paddle in the surf. And I’m just the person to give it to you. Take your sandals off.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She was bemused but game.

‘And I’ll take my shoes and socks off.’ He grinned and bent down to do just that. ‘Mind, this is no small concession. It’s not every woman I’d take my shoes and socks off for.’

‘You know, I guessed that?’

He looked up at her and his smile widened.

‘Of course you did,’ he told her. ‘We’re partners, after all. And a woman needs to know a lot about her partner. Even if it is only a partnership for a month.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE paddle was a long one—strolling about half a mile away from the town, walking through the small breakers at the edge of the surf. Magically, Em’s beeper stayed silent. It was as if the town had thrown its worst at her over the past twenty-four hours, and knew its doctor was close to breaking point. She needed this break more desperately than she even guessed herself.

The moon was completely up now. They should go home. Em should go to bed.

‘But Anna never has the children in bed until nine,’ Jonas told her. ‘It’s no use turning up there to talk to her before that. She simply won’t listen. And paddling does the soul just as much good as sleeping.’

So they walked. Rather to Em’s regret, her hand was released, and they walked side by side, as two friends might have.

Two good friends.

It had to be good friends, she thought, because their silences weren’t uneasy. They fell into step and splashed through the shallows in unison, and the sensation was like a balm to Em’s troubled mind. She could feel the tension easing out of her, disappearing into the coolness of the surf and washing out to sea.

This was…special.

Em didn’t speak, but she soaked it all in—the night, the lovely feel of surf between her toes and the moonlight. And somewhere in that walk her feeling of desperation, of absolute weariness and of isolation, all fell away, and she knew that tonight, babies and emergencies permitting, she’d sleep like a child.

Jonas had granted this to her, she thought, and for that she was incredibly grateful. She still wasn’t sure how it had happened, but when the headland met the sea in a rocky outcrop and paddling became impossible, she turned to him impulsively.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘For what? For taking a beautiful woman for a walk along the beach?’ He smiled down at her. ‘It’s been my absolute pleasure.’

A beautiful woman…

How long since anyone had called her that? Em thought. Grandpa had, and so had Charlie, but they’d called her beautiful since she was three years old. Back at medical school she’d had a couple of boyfriends, but since moving to Bay Beach… There simply hadn’t been time for boyfriends.

No time to be called beautiful?

She grinned wryly at the thought. I should stick that in my diary, she decided, because the thought, silly though it was, was still delicious. Allow time to be described as beautiful.

‘What’s funny?’

Em smiled up at him, and then resolutely turned her face back along the beach to where Jonas had parked his car. He was driving her tonight, and that in itself was novel. ‘Nothing. It’s time for us to go and see Anna.’

He fell into step beside her. His trousers were wet to the knees—he’d rolled them up but they’d been splashed anyway and it was too warm a night to care about a spot of wetness, and the surf felt great. Em’s dress was soaked almost to the thighs but, like Jonas, she didn’t care. She was feeling so light-headed she could almost float.

It was weariness, she told herself. Or reaction to Charlie’s death. Or…something!

‘You won’t tell me the joke?’ he demanded.

‘Nope.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,’ he said, and before she knew what he was about his hand caught hers again and swung. ‘Because I just succeeded, and I want to know how to do it again.’

‘Succeeded?’

‘In making you smile.’ He twinkled down at her. ‘When I first saw you, I thought, I bet that woman has the most magical smile—and she has. Now there’s only one thing more I want to know.’

It was impossible not to ask the obvious. ‘Which is what?’

‘What your hair looks like unbraided,’ he threw back at her, and she gasped and lifted her spare hand defensively to the hair in question.

‘You’ll wait a while for that.’

‘Why?’ Jonas sounded curious—nothing more. Still his hand held hers and it felt good. It felt…right.

‘Because, apart from when I wash it, my hair’s unbraided for about five minutes a day,’ she said with asperity. ‘I rebraid it every night before I go to bed, so it’s ready for emergencies.’

‘You mean…’ he said slowly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye with a look she didn’t quite understand. Or didn’t quite trust. ‘You mean, if I was on call for you, so you wouldn’t be at risk of an emergency call, then you’d sleep with your hair unbraided?’

This was a ridiculous question. But he was waiting for an answer. Em kicked up a spray of water before her—for heaven’s sake, she was acting as young and as carefree as a schoolgirl on her first date—and she tilted her chin and told him.

‘I might.’

‘But it’s not definite.’ He sounded so disappointed that she almost chuckled out loud.

‘I probably would,’ she said, just to placate him. Or just to make him smile.

And she succeeded. ‘That’d make me feel so much better,’ he told her. ‘If I get called out to someone’s ingrown toenail, and I’m whittling away at rotten nail at three in the morning and smelling some farmer’s stinking feet, it’d make me feel a whole heap better knowing that my partner was sleeping at home with her hair splayed out all over the pillow…’

‘And with her dog beside her and her door firmly locked!’ She said it as a reaction, like she was slamming her hand on the lock right now!

‘Really?’ He sounded shocked at the thought of such distrust, and Em could contain herself no longer. Her laughter rang out over the waves. This man was ridiculous. Deliciously ridiculous, but ridiculous all the same.

‘Yes, Dr Lunn, with my door locked,’ she told him. ‘Do you think I’m naïve or something?’

In answer, the hold on her hand tightened even further.

‘You wouldn’t have to lock the door,’ he said virtuously. ‘Because I’d be out chopping up toenails.’ And then his voice flattened. ‘And, no, Dr Mainwaring,’ he told her, and his voice was suddenly deadly serious, ‘I think you’re all sorts of things. But I definitely don’t think you’re naïve.’

He’d caught her right off her guard. She wasn’t ready for seriousness. ‘Jonas…’

‘Emily…’ He matched her tone of uncertainty exactly, and it was all she could do not to laugh again.

‘You’re impossible! Jonas, we need to see Anna.’

‘So we do.’ He sighed. ‘So we do. But we can come back here another night. No?’

‘Maybe.’

‘What sort of answer is that?’ Once more his voice had changed and now he sounded indignant. It was impossible not to laugh.

‘It’s a safe answer,’ she told him, and then because suddenly she didn’t feel safe in the least—she felt very, very exposed—she hauled her hand from his and started to run. ‘I’ll beat you to the car, Jonas Lunn,’ she called.

She ran.

Rather to her surprise, Jonas didn’t follow suit. Instead, he stopped dead, and watched her flying figure in the moonlight, racing up the sandhills toward his waiting car.

And his smile slowly died.

‘I wonder if I’m being really, really stupid here,’ he asked himself—but there was nothing but the moon and the surf to answer him.

Jonas had been right.

Anna was terrified and ready to back out, and it took his and Em’s combined persuasion to keep her on track.

‘We’ve made the appointment.’ Jonas went through it slowly and surely. ‘And we’ve organised everything else that needs to be done. You drop Sam and Matt at school and take Ruby to Lori’s, and then I take you to Blairglen for the tests. If we’re delayed—if you need more tests than a mammogram and biopsy—then Lori will collect the children and give them their dinner.’

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