Marrying the Millionaire Doctor. Alison Roberts
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‘Another patient. An only child. She’s ten and she had her surgery this morning. We discovered her brain tumour was inoperable. Unless we can shrink it with chemo, it’ll be a very short space of time before it invades her brain stem. She’s not doing as well as I’d like post-op, either.’
The first of the eco-cabins came into view on their left. On short stilts to protect their inhabitants from some of the wildlife and made from well-weathered timber that blended into the surrounding rainforest, they looked like dolls’ houses. Small and inviting. A fantasy that was a world away from the grim reality Alex had been relating.
Two of the cabins looked half-derelict, with their windows unglazed and no netting around the verandas, but the third was clearly inhabited. A red-and-white canvas chair stood beside a table made from half a barrel. An old couch with brightly coloured cushions dominated the rest of the space, and the barrel top and veranda railing were decorated with shells and driftwood. A windsong made a tiny sound in appreciation of the puff of sea breeze reaching them again.
Alex stopped, turning slowly to take in the view of the sea and then to take another look at the cabin.
‘How lovely!’ he exclaimed. ‘It looks as if it’s been here for ever.’
‘That’s Beth’s cabin,’ Susie told him. ‘She’s the permanent doctor for the medical centre now and she fell in love with that cabin. It’s the only one of the original cabins that was left intact enough to use after Willie. The others are just shells and we use them for the messy activities like pottery. See?’ She pointed at another veranda which was covered with lumpy-looking, as yet unglazed bowls made from coils of clay.
‘The cabin you’ll be using is brand-new,’ she continued. ‘But they’ve been careful to use the same kind of materials.’ She smiled at Alex, a concession that their relationship might be on a better footing now, thanks to his communication. ‘The mosquito netting will probably work a lot better, as well.’
‘I hadn’t thought about mosquitoes.’ Alex sounded irritated. Did he really expect to keep on top of what was happening so far away in Sydney and still be aware of every potential issue in this environment? ‘How much of a problem are they?’
‘Generally well controlled,’ Susie responded. ‘And you’ll find eco-friendly insect repellent in the cabin.’
‘What about mosquito-borne disease? Like Dengue fever and Ross River virus?’
‘There hasn’t been a case of anything nasty for years.’
‘Complacency is never a good safety net.’ Alex increased the length of his stride. ‘Another good reason to make sure Stella keeps herself well covered.’
He was forging ahead of her now so he couldn’t see the way Susie shook her head. Or hear her resigned sigh.
Much to Alex’s relief, Stella was in the cabin Susie led him to.
He could hear the sound of her voice as they stepped up onto the veranda, part of his brain registering the fact that this was going to be a much nicer place to stay than a penthouse hotel suite. The netting overhead and around the sides of the veranda was so fine it was virtually invisible, and the surrounding trees were so close that sitting out here would be like sitting in the middle of the forest.
The larger part of his brain, however, was hearing the sound of his daughter’s laughter and feeling the tension of his arrival and everything he’d left behind in Sydney fading.
When had he last heard her laugh like that? So long ago, it had probably been before her cancer had been diagnosed, and that was just over two years now. Was this part of what had been happening on this camp? If so, the donation he’d made to kick-start the rebuilding process had just paid for itself tenfold. And the staff needed to know how appreciative he was.
Alex turned his head, intending to catch Susie’s gaze and say something to that effect, but she was moving ahead to enter the main room of the cabin through the open ranch sliders that led to the veranda. She had a huge smile on her face.
‘Mike! Em! What are you guys doing here?’
‘We were looking for you,’ a feminine voice responded.
Alex stepped into a spacious, open-plan living area to see Susie hugging another blonde woman. His gaze flicked past the man beside them, who was grinning cheerfully to where Stella was sitting on a cane couch. Her smile was fading rapidly as she watched her father’s entrance and she looked disturbingly—and inexplicably—nervous. Then her gaze shifted and Alex understood.
He glared at the boy standing at the other end of Stella’s couch. Trying to look nonchalant, with a towel slung casually over one shoulder that did nothing to cover his bare chest or disguise the way his damp board shorts clung to his hips.
‘G’day,’ the boy said. ‘You must be Star’s dad.’
‘What? Who?’
Susie broke away from the hug. ‘This is Alex,’ she said to the group in general. ‘Stella’s father. Alex, this is Mike and Emily, whom you’ve heard about already.’
‘Hiya!’ Mike extended his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Alex.’
Emily had a sweet smile and was nodding agreement. Susie was beaming at the boy.
‘Hey, Jamie! Did you have a good swim?’
‘It was awesome.’
Alex pulled his hand free of Mike’s grip and stopped smiling at Emily. He frowned at the boy again. ‘What was it you called my daughter?’
Jamie went red. He started to say something but his voice cracked and he went crimson. Stella glared at her father but Mike was still grinning.
‘Star,’ he supplied. ‘It’s what Stella means in Greek.’
‘Yes,’ Alex said dryly. ‘I was aware of that.’
‘I wasn’t,’ Stella said. ‘You never told me.’
‘Mike’s Greek, too,’ Susie said hurriedly, clearly trying to avert another father-daughter confrontation. Did she really think that he and Stella did nothing but fight?
‘Mike Poulos,’ Mike added helpfully. ‘My parents run the best Greek restaurant you’ll find in North Australia. The Athina. Just over the way in Crocodile Creek.’
‘Spitting distance,’ Emily said. She exchanged a glance with Mike and they both gave the kind of smile that indicated a private joke.
One that excluded Alex. The ceiling fan didn’t seem to be doing much in the way of air-conditioning. He put down his briefcase, dropped his jacket over the back of a cane chair that matched the couch, rolled up his shirtsleeves and gave up any pretence of feeling social.
He wanted a shower. A chance to change his clothes and spend some time with his daughter. Instead, his accommodation was crowded by strangers who seemed to find Greek superstitions a joke, his daughter was still wearing that scanty clothing, and she was currently being ogled by a prime example of testosterone on legs. It was infuriating.
Worse, having caught Susie’s glance, it appeared that she knew exactly how he was feeling and—in her opinion—his discomfort was well deserved.
Then he saw the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. It may only have been the second time he’d seen her do that, but he knew a decision of some kind had just been made.
‘Hey,’ Susie said to her friends. ‘You did know you’re not staying here anymore, didn’t you?’
Emily nodded. ‘That’s why we came to find you, to make sure you’d had a chance to talk to Charles.’
‘Your dad’s having the cabin,’ Susie explained to Stella. ‘We’re moving to the hotel. There’s two bedrooms