Medical Romance October 2016 Books 1-6. Amy Andrews
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It appeared she wasn’t going to have to worry about any lines they’d crossed. He’d obviously retreated as far as he could.
It was just the bucket of cold water she needed.
‘I came to check you’d received the file I sent you and to bring you these. Mrs Robbins made them for the new doctor. They’re the best in the district. You also have a jar of Mrs Randall’s rosella jam and Cindy Wetherall has made you a mulberry pie.’
He blinked. ‘But...why?’
The incredulity in his voice would have been comical had it not been utterly genuine. Felicity shrugged. ‘It’s the country. That’s how we welcome newcomers. Also there’s a rumour going around town that the new doc is hot so you’ve gone to the top of the eligible list.’
‘Eligible?’
‘Yes, you know. Marriage, babies, the whole enchilada. We don’t get a lot of new blood around here.’
His face morphed from mystified to horrified, which was another salient warning. He looked like two rusty forks would be welcome about now.
Obviously marriage and babies were not on his agenda. Or not in Vickers Hills anyway.
‘What did you think you were going to get when you traded the city for the country?’
If her voice was a little on the tart side she didn’t care. Honestly...for someone who’d come across as intelligent and articulate on the train, he was being rather obtuse.
‘Not this.’
‘Well...you’d better get used to it.’ She plonked the plate of biscuits down. ‘You’re going to be well fed around here.’
He looked at them like they were a bomb that could possibly detonate at any moment. Oh, for Pete’s sake... She had the strange urge to pelt him with one.
‘Anyway... Did you get the files?’
He put his glasses back on and her pulse gave a funny little skip despite her annoyance. He looked at his computer screen. ‘Thanks, yes. I’ve figured out the system and I’ve been reviewing all the charts for the week.’
He was being thorough. That was good. Being prepared and focused. Doing his homework.
But she still wanted to pelt him with shortbread.
‘It looks pretty light,’ he said, his eyes still glued to the screen. ‘I’d see double the amount of patients in an afternoon in Sydney.’
There was no criticism in his voice. He was being matter-of-fact but it irked Felicity. She bit her tongue against the urge to tell him he could turn right around and go back to his precious Sydney.
It appeared their talk wasn’t going to be necessary. It was obvious he didn’t want to be here. She’d been worrying about nothing.
‘Trust me, it’ll take us all afternoon.’
‘Okay. The clinic usually starts on time?’
‘Yes. There are no appointments between twelve and one so we can have lunch then afternoon clinics start at one on the dot.’
‘That’s very civilised.’
Felicity gritted her teeth. Again, his tone wasn’t critical but anger stirred in her chest anyway.
She supposed they didn’t get time for lunch in Sydney.
‘Well, you know what they say, the family that eats together stays together.’
He glanced at her. ‘And you’re all family here.’
Why did he make that sound like they were some kind of cult? ‘Well...yes.’ Where the hell was the charming guy from the train? The one she’d slept with?
Talk about a Jekyll and Hyde!
He nodded as if he was absorbing her answer before returning his attention to the screen. Felicity had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. ‘Do me a favour? Have a look around here for the plaster saw when you’re done with the charts?’
She’d planned on looking for it herself but frankly she didn’t want to be around him any longer than she had to be. And she didn’t need the temptation of a plaster saw in her hand when she felt like causing him physical harm.
‘Sure,’ he murmured, still focused on his computer.
Felicity wasn’t sure if that was his way of dismissing her or not but she took her leave anyway.
She had no idea if he noticed.
CALLUM GLANCED UP as the door clicked shut. He hadn’t realised Felicity had slipped out. He sighed and threw his glasses on the desk again, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
Damn it. He’d been too short with her. He hadn’t meant to be, she’d just caught him at a bad moment. He’d been trying to concentrate on his work, to push away the powerful feelings of regret that were threatening to swamp him, but sitting here at his desk in a Vickers Hill general practice he couldn’t deny them any longer and she’d arrived in the middle of his pity party.
He was a GP. A general practitioner. The last two years he’d been in training for this so it hadn’t seemed quite real. But now he was here, in his first GP job, and it was as real as it got.
Goodbye, hot-shot surgeon. No more triple As, carotid endarterectomies or vascular bypasses. His life now revolved around tonsillitis, hypertension, reflux and asthma. No more international surgical conferences or pioneering new techniques or glitzy dinner parties. No more cut and thrust of the operating theatre. It was all rosella jam and mulberry pie...
So not the way he’d pictured his life turning out.
Sure, after this he was heading back to the prestigious north shore practice where he’d undergone a lot of his training. He’d never been given home-made anything by any of the patients there but it wasn’t scrubs and the smell of the diathermy either.
Still, none of it was Felicity’s fault and they had to work together so he needed to get his head out of his rear end. He hadn’t been prepared for the leap in his pulse when he’d seen her again this morning. He’d spent the last few days trying to compartmentalise her in his head as the woman on the train. A fantasy. A very sexy, very real fantasy that he thanked his lucky stars for but a fantasy nonetheless.
He’d thought he’d succeeded.
And then she’d been in the staffroom and his libido had growled back to life again as a rush of memories from the train had filled his head.
She hadn’t looked like the woman in the fringed boots or the little black dress. She’d been in her uniform—a pair of loose-fitting blue trousers and a polo shirt with ‘Dawson Family Practice’ embroidered across the pocket. The shirt was also loose and her honey-coloured hair was tied back in a low ponytail at her nape.
But she had looked like the woman in the yoga pants and bare feet who’d shared her bed with him and damn if that hadn’t made him all fired up. And messed with his head. Why else would he have babbled on about being a Cal?
Oh, God. He’d been inept...
But it had seemed vital suddenly that she know. To make her understand that he had been a different person once. That he was capable, even if that guy felt lost to him for ever.
To not judge him as the man she saw now.
Which hopefully she wouldn’t because that guy had just acted like an insensitive jerk.
He’d come here to get away from the tentacles of his past. To begin his new career away from judging eyes. To get some clear air before he went back to a world that was used to seeing him as an entirely different person.
To be happy,