Falling for Dr December. Susanne Hampton

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Falling for Dr December - Susanne Hampton


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href="#ulink_4d5b5158-9edb-5900-af66-c68ae84c9385">CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       EPILOGUE

       Copyright

      ‘JUST ONE MORE step and I’ll shoot!’ Laine waited for some reaction, but there was nothing.

      The man before her appeared unmoved by her words. He stood in silence, shaking his head, his dark, deeply set eyes staring back coldly. The clenched muscles of his jaw made his face appear even more angular and harsh. Laine was painfully aware that he had no intention of taking her seriously. But why would he? Her willowy stature would pose no threat to his potent six-foot frame now stripped bare to the waist. He wasn’t about to listen to her plea.

      The afternoon sun slipped through the curtain breaks and she watched the curves of his broad chest and powerful arms etched by the light. Slowly he ran his fingers over his open belt buckle. She felt the need to swallow as his fingers moved to the top stud of his jeans. Her eyes closed for the briefest moment but opened just as quickly. She hoped it was not more than a blink. Showing any sign of intimidation she was feeling would give him the upper hand. She had learned that over the years.

      ‘I promise, take another step and it’ll be your last,’ Laine called aloud, while silently she chided herself for having been talked into coming back here in the first place. Why had she done it? She should have known no good would come from returning to this town. The lump in her throat that had formed when she’d driven her hire car down the New England Highway and into Uralla that morning showed no sign of being swallowed. It was lodged firmly and going nowhere. It was a sign she should not be here. She had left the town twelve years ago for good reason.

      She waited for his response in action or words but there was nothing. He showed no emotion. She couldn’t read his face. Instead she felt the weight of his gaze as it roamed her body, slowly, painstakingly, making her feel uneasy with every lingering moment, until it came to rest on her mouth. Running his hand through his short black hair, he appeared distracted as he stared at her in silence. Then abruptly his husky voice made her stiffen as he asked brazenly, ‘You really know how to use that?’

      Only able to catch his unshaven profile, she could see his mouth curve into a smirk. She fought his intimidation with all her strength. She refused to let him know he was close to succeeding in his desire to unnerve her. She had to maintain the upper hand and stay in control and that meant staying calm.

      ‘Take that step and you’ll soon find out how accurate I can be.’ Her tone was mild and steady, even though inside she wavered. Laine hoped her newfound composure, albeit at odds with her true feelings, might prove more successful. She knew this was the last time she could issue her ultimatum without it echoing as an empty threat. She would not get what she’d come for and all of this would have been for nothing. No one was going to get the better of her. Not here and not now.

      She held her ground and prayed this time he’d take her seriously. And he did. Grudgingly, and with a level of hesitation Laine didn’t fully understand, he set his dusty boots up another rung of the ladder and eased his long leg over the top to sit astride it.

      ‘At last,’ she muttered to herself as she tucked some stray wisps of her long brown hair behind her ear and reached for another lens from the table behind her. With her camera focused, and maintaining eye contact with her handsome but obstinate subject, Laine moved behind the ladder prop and began a photographic shoot with the confidence and expertise that only someone with her ability and experience could execute.

      A cold sweat rushed over Pierce but he swallowed hard and kept his eyes from looking down. His heart was pounding roughly in his chest as he struggled to push unwanted images from his mind. Memories were rising to the surface and no matter how logic reasoned with his fear, fear was close to taking hold. Despite the fact that he wasn’t that twelve-year-old boy balancing precariously on a balcony ledge, he suddenly found himself feeling equally vulnerable. His knuckles clenched whitely and he willed the shoot to be over. Nervously he rubbed his brow. He had to stay on task, remind himself it was just a ladder in an unused consulting room of his practice in order to maintain any remnant of composure. He knew it wouldn’t be easy when he took the first step, but he hadn’t expected it to be so overwhelming all these years later. Some memories were clearly hard, if not impossible, to forget.

      ‘You can come down now but seriously, Dr. Beaumont, was that so terribly difficult?’ she asked with exaggerated politeness, as she removed the lens and packed the camera body back into its case. ‘If you’d gone up another rung without the dramatics, we could have wrapped up twenty minutes ago,’ she complained as she began to dismantle the lighting umbrella. She was tempted to comment further on his bad attitude but didn’t want to cause any more animosity. Better to keep her opinion to herself, she mused as she began packing the tripod in the longest of her waterproof equipment bags.

      Pierce Beaumont couldn’t answer her. He climbed down from the ladder in silence. With both feet on solid ground, anxiety morphed to anger. ‘What was so damned important about going up one more step?’

      ‘It’s about framing the picture. I won’t compromise when it comes to my work. And please don’t be late tomorrow. I’m hoping to get the sunrise over the McKenzies’ property,’ she replied flatly, as she glared back at the man who had made the last hour very difficult. ‘I’ve already photographed eleven other GPs across Australia and you have been without doubt the most uncooperative. Why on earth agree in the first place if you don’t want to see yourself in a calendar? I saw the contract, it was clearly your name and signature on it.’

      ‘That’s just it,’ he snapped back. ‘I didn’t agree to any of this. My former partner, Gregory Majors, forged the paperwork before he retired. He did it as a prank. Thought I’d see the humour in it. Clearly, I didn’t.’

      Laine knew the name instantly. Dr Majors, the town’s general practitioner. It was a name that brought memories rushing back at lightning speed. It was something he would do. The man had an impish side to him. Laine had been his patient many times when she’d lived in Uralla. The first time when she’d come down with tonsillitis, then there had been her broken arm from a fall during a high-school netball game and a few other teenage scrapes. He had been the local doctor since he’d finished medical school when, like so many of the townspeople, he’d come back to nest.

      But not Laine. She had left and vowed never to return. She took a deep breath. The time that she had called Uralla her home was over and she could never think of it that way again. She had planned it would be her forever home but that dream had ended and taken with it her belief in the words ‘for ever’.

      ‘When I tried to back out of it, the organisers told me that they’d booked your flights and the budget wouldn’t allow them to reschedule,’ Pierce continued,


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