Australian Affairs: Claimed: Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty / Countering His Claim / Australia's Maverick Millionaire. Margaret Way
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‘Who looked after Jake and his siblings after their mother was killed?’ Kitty asked.
‘I think they stayed with his mother’s parents for a bit, but it didn’t last,’ Gwen said. ‘They’d disowned their daughter when she hooked up with Jake’s father. They didn’t even know the kids when they were plonked on their doorstep. Jake got his own place as soon as he could afford it and made his own way. Can’t have been easy. He’s done such a good job of taking care of them all, but now Robbie’s got some sort of issue. God knows what it is. Jake certainly won’t let on.’
Kitty looked towards the doors Jake had just gone through. She thought back to her conversation with him about why he hadn’t travelled abroad. Had he stayed home in order to watch over his siblings? How had he coped financially? Had his mother left them well provided for or did he have to struggle to make ends meet? What else had he sacrificed to be there for his family?
The image of him as a protective father figure was at odds with her impression of him as a fun-loving, laid-back playboy. But then she thought of the day she’d seen him at the beach with his young nephew. No one could ask for a more devoted uncle and mentor. Strict but fair, strong but nurturing—all the things young kids and in particular boys needed to grow. Jake had apparently had no such mentor himself. Instead he had been the man of the house for most of his thirty-four years.
Kitty turned and saw Gwen looking at her speculatively. ‘What were you two talking about just then, anyway?’ Gwen asked. ‘You looked rather cosy.’
Kitty felt a flush pass over her cheeks. ‘It was just…nothing.’
Gwen gave her a motherly smile of caution. ‘Tread carefully, my dear,’ she said. ‘He’s a gorgeous man in looks and in temperament, but he doesn’t play for keeps.’
‘I don’t know how many times I have to tell everyone I’m not interested in Jake Chandler,’ Kitty said with an irritated frown.
Gwen’s look was long and measuring. ‘Not that you wouldn’t make a lovely couple or anything,’ she said. ‘I can see the sparks that fly between you.’
‘I’m sure you’re imagining it,’ Kitty said, still frowning. ‘Personally, I think he can’t wait until I hop on that plane back to Britain. He thinks I’m not up to the task.’
‘You’re handling things just fine,’ Gwen said. ‘Jake’s not one to stroke egos unnecessarily. If he was unhappy with your work he’d soon let you know.’
Kitty gave her a grim look. ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,’ she said, and turned back to the unit.
KITTY didn’t see Jake face-to-face for the rest of her shift. He had come back to the unit after a few minutes, but she had been tied up with a patient with chronic asthma whose condition hadn’t been properly managed by either the patient or his doctor. By the time she’d sorted the middle-aged man out Jake had been busy with other patients.
But when she was walking along the Bondi shopping and café strip later that evening, in search of somewhere to grab some dinner, she saw him coming towards her.
He looked preoccupied. There was a frown between his brows and his jaw looked as if it had been carved from stone. He didn’t even see her until she was practically under his nose.
‘Dr Chandler?’
Her softly spoken greeting didn’t even register, so she reached out and touched him on the bare tanned skin of his forearm with her fingertips.
‘Jake?’
He jumped as if she had probed him with an electrode. ‘Oh,’ he said, absently rubbing at his arm. ‘It’s you.’
‘Yes…’ Kitty shifted her weight from foot to foot. ‘Are you OK?’
His marble mask stayed in place. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I just thought you might like to…talk.’
Something moved across his gaze, leaving in its wake a layer of ice. ‘About what?’
‘Gwen told me you were having some trouble with your brother and I thought—’
‘You thought what, Dr Cargill?’ he asked with a mocking look. ‘That you’d offer your sweet little shoulder for me to cry on?’
Kitty held his glacial gaze for a beat or two before giving up. ‘I’ve obviously caught you at a bad time,’ she said, stepping away from him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interfere.’
She had walked past three shopfronts before he caught up with her. He didn’t touch her. He walked alongside her, shoulder to shoulder—well, not exactly shoulder to shoulder, given he was so much taller. Kitty was wearing ballet flats, which put the top of her head in line with the top of his shoulder. She felt the warmth of his body. She had to fight to keep walking in a straight line in case her body betrayed her with its traitorous, shameless desires.
‘Don’t let me keep you,’ she said, sending him a sideways glance that made her loose hair momentarily brush against his arm. She grabbed at the wayward strands and fixed them firmly behind her ear.
‘Sorry,’ he said in a gruff tone. ‘That was uncalled-for.’
‘It’s OK,’ she said, only marginally mollified.
They walked a few more paces in silence. Kitty wasn’t sure what to say, so said nothing. She figured if he wanted to talk to her he would. Every time she sneaked a glance at him he was frowning broodingly. His shoulders looked tight and were hunched forward slightly, as if he was carrying an invisible weight that was incredibly burdensome.
‘Have you got any siblings?’ he finally asked.
‘No, there’s just me,’ Kitty said.
‘Happy childhood?’
‘Mostly.’
‘Are your parents still married to each other?’ he asked.
Kitty gave him another sideways glance, trying to ignore the way her heart kicked in her chest when she encountered the unfathomable darkness of his sapphire-blue gaze. ‘My parents didn’t get married in the first place,’ she said. ‘They met at a free love commune. They’re still together, more or less. They occasionally have other partners. They have what they call an “open” relationship.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you as a hippy couple’s kid,’ he said. ‘Did the stork get the wrong address or something?’
Kitty couldn’t hold back a little rueful smile. ‘My parents have spent a great deal of the last twenty-six years looking at each other in a kind of dumbfounded way,’ she said. ‘They were hoping for a free-spirited indie child much like themselves. I constantly embarrass them.’
His mouth kicked up at the corners. ‘I just bet you do.’
Kitty caught a whiff of his cologne as he raised a hand to brush his hair back off his forehead. The faint hint of hard-working male was like a potent elixir to her nostrils. She even felt herself leaning closer to catch more of his alluring scent.
He met her gaze again, holding it with the dark intensity of his. ‘I lost my mother when I was sixteen,’ he said. ‘And my father…’ He paused, a frown cutting his forehead in two, and the lines and planes of his face clouding. ‘My father left us before my brother was born. My two sisters can barely remember him. None of us have seen or heard of him since he left. Not even when Mum died.’
‘I’m very sorry,’ Kitty said. ‘Life can be pretty brutal at times. You must have had a hard time of it.’
‘Yeah, you could say that,’