Winter Wonderland Wishes. Abigail Gordon
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as she looked around for something to use as a fan and grabbed a magazine, which she moved frantically through the air in front of her face in the hope that it would cool her down.
‘The one that clearly explained my father was in an accident two days ago, fractured his patella and had to undergo surgery, so you’ll be working alongside me until he returns.’
‘So he’s coming back?’ she asked, with a little relief colouring her voice. ‘When, exactly?’
‘In about a month, if his rehabilitation goes as planned. It wasn’t a complete reconstruction, so he should be back on deck a lot sooner than after a full recon.’
Phoebe nodded and bit the inside of her cheek as she considered his response. At least it was four weeks, not six months. She felt a little better about the time frame but the confirmation that Heath was going to be her boss, for however short or long a time, was still not news she needed to hear.
She kept her improvised fan moving through the thick air, trying to bring some relief to the situation. Against the oppressive heat it was little use; against news of the working arrangements it was no use at all. For the next four weeks she would be working with a man too handsome for his own good and definitely for the good of all the women who fell victim to his charm. But, thinking of what she had just escaped, she knew she would never fall for a man like Heath. Not that she was on the market for anyone anyway.
She loosened the belt cinched at her waist to allow her to breathe a little more easily in the mugginess that was wrapping around her.
‘You’re looking extremely pale,’ he said, with something she thought sounded like a level of concern. ‘I’ll get a glass of water for you.’
Phoebe swayed to and fro in her seat, watching as Heath crossed back to her with a plastic cup he had filled from the water cooler. She took a few sips, then shakily handed him back the cup. Just as the polished wooden floor became a checked pattern that surged towards her in waves. As she fought the swirling focus that made her feel more disorientated by the minute, she wondered why any of this had happened to her.
Was there any way she could escape the heat? Why did Ken have to wreck his knee now? Why did she have to work with this man for the next few weeks?
Suddenly there were no more questions. The stifling heat finally claimed her. And Dr Phoebe Johnson fainted into Heath’s strong arms.
‘GOOD, YOU’RE BACK with us.’
Phoebe heard the deep timbre of a male voice very close, and when she opened her eyes she realised just how close. She was facing some well-defined and very naked male abdominal muscles, only inches away from her. Her brow formed a frown as she realised she recognised the distinctly Australian accent. It was her temporary boss—and in her direct line of vision was his bare tanned stomach.
Still lying down, she attempted to let her eyes roam her surroundings—until she was finally forced to look up and see Heath looking down at her. She couldn’t read his expression. He wasn’t frowning, but nor was he smiling. His look was serious. Concerned. And the concern appeared genuine. She discovered her resting place was an examination table. And soon realised there was a cool towel on her forehead and that a portable fan was stirring the heavy air and moving the fine wisps of hair that had escaped from her ponytail.
‘She’s lucky you were there to catch her. Sorry—I stepped out to get a cool drink and missed her.’
Phoebe heard a second voice. It belonged to a female but she couldn’t see anyone from her vantage point. It made sense to her, even in her disorientated state, that for him to have set so much in place so quickly, such as the cool towel and the fan, he had to have had some assistance.
‘I must apologise, Phoebe. I’d hoped to have the air-con up and running before you arrived,’ Heath said, in a serious, professional tone that belied his appearance. He looked more like a private dancer than a stoic doctor. ‘I’m not surprised you passed out. Aussie summers can be tough if you’re not used to them.’
Phoebe was so embarrassed when she realised what had happened. She stirred from her horizontal position, but still felt light-headed so didn’t attempt to sit completely upright immediately. But while she slowly moved she remembered a little of the conversation they had shared—including the news he had imparted to her. ‘You’ll be working alongside me.’ Silently she begged the universe to tell her it wasn’t true.
The last thing she needed was a man like Heath. She needed to be thinking about her career as a podiatric surgeon and she wanted to be taught by an experienced older practitioner. This new arrangement was not a dynamic she had even considered as a possibility when she’d agreed to work in Adelaide. She’d thought it would be six months of respite. An emotionally healing time packaged as a working sabbatical.
‘Here’s some water,’ the young woman said as she stepped into view, and she handed Heath a glass with a plastic concertina straw. ‘It’s not too cold.’
Phoebe squinted as she tried to focus. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties. Blonde, quite tall, very pretty, with a lovely smile. Phoebe suddenly felt Heath’s strong arm lift her upright, yet there was no warmth in the way he held her. It was as if she was an inanimate object.
‘Hold on to your cold compress and sip this,’ he said as he curved the straw to meet her lips.
He held the drink steady with one hand while the other still supported her. His bedside manner she would have described as ‘reserved’ at best.
Phoebe held the cold towel in place as she slowly sucked the water through the straw and felt immediately better for it. But the sight of her skirt no longer demurely skimming her knees did not make her feel good at all. Most of her legs were bare, for the world and Dr Heath Rollins to see, and she was horrified.
‘I’ve had enough, thank you,’ she said as she moved her mouth away from the drink and then, struggling to keep the towel on her head, she tried to lift her bottom slightly and release the hem of the skirt.
There was little covered at all. Fainting and baring parts of her anatomy that should be saved for the beach, or more intimate encounters, was definitely not a great start to this already less than desirable working relationship. She had secured the job purely on her references, and now she could only guess what he was thinking as she reached down to gain some dignity.
‘Here—let me help you.’
His hands lifted her gently and with ease. Her heartbeat suddenly increased with the unexpected touch of his hands on her bare skin. Suddenly she did not feel like an inanimate object. And this time her giddiness wasn’t from the heat of the room. His closeness while he held her up made the job of adjusting her clothing difficult. She finally wriggled the skirt into place and swung her legs around, subtly encouraging Heath to release her and step back.
Clearing her throat, and raising her chin a little defensively, Phoebe looked at Heath as if he were almost the perpetrator of the incident. ‘How exactly—?’ she began and then paused for a moment. ‘How did I get here? I don’t remember leaving the reception area. I do remember feeling very hot, then light-headed, but where was I when I fainted?’
‘You passed out on a chair in the waiting room, and I carried you in here and put you on your side. You were out for less than a minute. As soon as your head was level with your body you came to.’
The way he spoke was quite clinical and detached, but she still managed to feel uneasy at the mental picture of him scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the examination bed with little or no effort.
Her eyes briefly scanned his firefighter physique before she blinked and turned away. Ken Rollins would be back before she knew it, she told herself. Then all would be right in her world again. This was just a hiccup in her plans. And if Heath’s attitude was anything to go by