The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him. Fiona Lowe

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The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him - Fiona  Lowe


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had been stolen from his brother. The guilt sneaked in anyway.

      ‘Mr C. brought you a crayfish as a get-well gift. I was going to drop it over to you later but why not take it home with you now?’ Charlie gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Lexie and I have got this. All you need to do is sleep, rest and recuperate.’

      ‘I’m not asking you to give up your leave.’

      ‘You’re not. I’m offering,’ he said expansively. ‘After all, it’s what friends do.’

      ‘No.’ She speared him with a mutinous look. ‘Friends don’t assume.’

      Assume? Now she’d lost him. ‘I’m not assuming anything. I deal in facts. Your X-rays prove you’re injured.’

      ‘Yes, but this is my practice. These are my patients.’

      ‘Of course they’re your patients, but I can help both them and you.’ He cast around for an example to prove his point and to shore up his position. ‘For instance, Mackenzie Strickland. Her situation wasn’t urgent so Surfside wouldn’t help her and, yes, technically she could have waited until Monday, but given what she’s going through, I was able to ease her anxiety and save you from overdoing things.’ He smiled at her, trying to connect and crack her granite expression. ‘You know, I got as much of a buzz from telling Mackenzie she’s pregnant as I did recently saving a kid’s life.’

      Two pink spots burned Lauren’s otherwise pale cheeks. ‘In general practice it’s all about the relationship with the patient. For months I’ve had to give Mackenzie bad news and help her deal with her grief as she experienced yet another miscarriage.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Another lost dream.’

      She sucked in a deep breath as if needing to steady herself. ‘The results of her chorionic villi sampling was my news to tell, not yours. You don’t have the right to swan in here and take over without even consulting me. I don’t need your help and I’d like you to leave.’

      A thrum of disquiet stirred, underpinned by disappointment laced with worry. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to walk back through the doors of the clinic and face a long day of beachcombing, reading and going crazy. He wanted to work. Needed to work. ‘Surely you can cut a guy some slack for well-intentioned assistance?’

      ‘It’s not the sort of assistance I need.’

      But I need this. ‘I’ll be more consultative, I promise.’

      ‘Between Surfside, Lexie, my mother, and me working reduced hours, we’re covered.’

      Agitation swooped in, pushing out the feel-good emotions of the morning. ‘Why risk falling in a heap from working when you don’t have to? Hell, I’m here. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?’ Damn and blast. He’d meant to sound as if he was doing her a favour but all he could hear was the thread of pleading in his voice.

      Her beautiful light brown eyes narrowed. ‘Why does an Australian Aid trauma surgeon on precious holidays want to waste his time working in general practice in Horseshoe Bay?’

      ‘Hell, Lauren,’ he said belligerently, trying to deflect her. ‘Do you always give people who are trying to help you the third degree?’

      ‘Only the ones who clearly have something to hide.’

      ‘I don’t have anything to hide.’

      ‘Good.’ She pressed the intercom. ‘Lexie, Charlie Ainsworth is just leaving so as soon as you see him exit the building, send in the next patient.’

      ‘But, Lauren—’

      Her finger came off the intercom and Lexie’s voice cut off. Lauren skewered him with a look of icy determination. ‘Enjoy your day.’

      His temper frayed. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’

      ‘Am I? Picture this. Without asking, I stroll into your operating theatre and do the complicated surgery you’ve spent days planning and dreaming about.’

      ‘I’d welcome it.’

      ‘Liar. You’d hate it.’

      She was right, he’d be ropeable. He sighed. ‘Okay, fair call.’

      She gave him a long, assessing look and it took everything he had not to squirm in the chair. Keep it all buried. He matched her with a direct gaze of his own and threw in a sardonic raised brow. She blinked first. Good. Standing slowly, she walked around the desk. As he was still sitting, it was pure power play so he rose and was immediately taller than her.

      ‘Charlie, what’s really going on?’

      ‘Nothing.’ He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Like I said, I was only trying to help you. I should have curbed my enthusiasm.’

      She wriggled her nose. ‘I’d understand your help more if we’d had an emergency. What I don’t understand is the help with the mundane stuff that can wait, especially on a glorious blue-sky day with great waves. It’s almost as if you don’t want to be on holidays...’

      He gave an ‘as if’ laugh to move her far, far away from the truth.

      Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, my, God, that’s it, isn’t it? It’s killing you not to be working.’

      Every part of him wanted to deny it but she had him cornered. ‘You’ve got me,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’m a workaholic. So, really, you’re helping me by letting me work,’ he quipped, and added a big grin for good measure.

      She didn’t laugh. In fact, the expression on her face was more aligned with pity than humour. ‘Want to talk about it?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Okay.’

      Okay? What woman ever said that to a refusal to discuss feelings? And yet, twelve years ago, he and Lauren had never talked about their emotions so in a way this ‘okay’ made sense. ‘What do you want me to do next?’ he asked, thinking about the patients in the waiting room.

      ‘According to the radio, there’s flathead biting off the end of the pier. You might be able to fill your day that way.’

      ‘Very funny.’

      She hit him with an uncompromising stare. ‘Or you can tell me why you’re in Horseshoe Bay when you clearly don’t want to be on holidays. Then I’ll let you see some patients.’

      ‘I thought doctors were supposed to be caring people,’ he grumbled, trying to hide his anxiety.

      ‘We are.’ Her hand rested on his arm. ‘But we can also be our own worst enemies.’

      He gazed down at her, wanting to lose himself in her clear gaze and kiss her until his mind was blank, but she wasn’t looking at him with anything other than concern for a friend. Damn it. He’d been the one to raise the friend issue. He’d planted that seed. What the hell had he been thinking? Every time he looked at her he wanted to pull her close, hold her tight and breathe in her fresh, sea scent. Who was he kidding? He wanted her naked—under him, over him, with him.

      He gave himself a shake and decided the bare bones were all she needed—all he was prepared to give. ‘I got caught in a cyclone.’

      ‘Oh, God. That must have been terrifying.’

      Not as terrifying as being home. ‘Yeah.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m fine but Australia Aid won’t put me in the field again until I’ve ticked all the trauma recovery boxes. The thing is, I’m better when I work.’

      She tilted her head, her beautiful eyes assessing him, and he got the feeling she saw straight through him. ‘How long since you last had a holiday?’

      ‘I don’t do relaxation.’

      ‘I can see that. You look exhausted.’

      Frustration bubbled in his veins. ‘Listen,


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