Flirting with the Socialite Doc. Melanie Milburne
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father today? I could probably work something in for later this afternoon. I’m pretty solidly booked but—’
He handed her the package the delivery guy had delivered the night before, his eyes locking on hers in a way that made the base of her spine shiver and fizz. ‘You left this in my car last night.’
Izzy could practically hear Margie’s eyes popping out of her head behind the reception counter. ‘Oh...right, thanks.’ She took the package from him and held it against her chest, where her heart was doing double time.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Margie said.
‘Um...not right now.’
Was that a hint of mockery glinting in Zach Fletcher’s eyes? ‘What time would suit you?’ he asked.
‘I...I think I’d rather do it when I get home.’
The glint in his eyes was unmistakable this time, so too was the slight curve at one side of his mouth. His version of a smile? It made her hungry to see a real one. Was he capable of stretching that grim mouth that far? ‘I meant what time would suit you to see my father.’
Izzy’s blush deepened. What was it about this man that made her feel about twelve years old? Well, maybe not twelve years old. Right now she was feeling incredibly adult. X-rated adult. Every particle of her flesh was shockingly aware of him. Her skin was tight, her senses alert, her pulse rate rising, her heart fluttering like a butterfly trapped in the narrow neck of a bottle. ‘Oh...’ She swung back to Margie. ‘What time am I free?’
‘Your last patient is at four forty-five. It’s a twenty-minute drive out to Fletcher Downs so shall we say five-thirty, give or take a few minutes?’ Margie said.
‘I’ll make sure I’m there to let you in,’ Zach said. ‘My father can be a bit grouchy meeting people for the first time. Don’t let him get to you.’
Izzy raised her chin the tiniest fraction. ‘I’m used to handling difficult people.’
His eyes measured hers for a pulsing moment. ‘Margie will give you a map. If you pass Blake’s waterhole, you’ve gone too far.’
‘I’m sure I’ll find it without any trouble,’ Izzy said. ‘I have satellite navigation in my car.’
He gave a brisk nod that encompassed the receptionist as well as Izzy and left the clinic.
‘Are you going to tell me how you ended up in his car last night or am I going to have to guess?’ Margie asked.
Izzy let out a breath as she turned back around. ‘He gave me a lift home.’
Margie’s eyes widened with intrigue. ‘From the pub? It’s like half a block by city standards.’
‘Yes, well, apparently Sergeant Fletcher thinks it’s terribly unsafe to walk home at night without an escort. Typical cop, they think everyone’s a potential criminal. They never see the good in people, only the bad. They have power issues too. You can pick it up a mile off. I’d bet my bottom dollar Zach Fletcher is a total control freak. And a blind man could see he has a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder.’
Margie smiled a knowing smile. ‘You like him.’
‘What on earth gives you that idea?’ Izzy gave a scornful little laugh but even to her ears it sounded tinny. ‘He’s not my type.’
And I bet I’m not his either.
CHAPTER THREE
ZACH HAD BEEN at the homestead long enough to change out of his uniform, make his father a cup of tea, and take Popeye for a walk down to the dam and back when he saw Isabella Courtney coming up the driveway.
He waved a fly away from his face as he watched her handle the corrugations of the gravel driveway that was as long as some city streets. A dust cloud plumed out in her wake and a flock of sulphur-crested white cockatoos and salmon-pink corellas flew out of the gum trees that lined the driveway before settling in another copse of trees closer to the dam. The chorus of cicadas was loud in the oven-warm air and in the distance the grey kangaroo he’d rescued as a joey, and who now had a joey of her own, hopped towards a few tufts of grass that had pushed up through the parched ground around the home paddock’s water trough.
Popeye gave a whine and looked up at Zach as his body did its little happy dance at the thought of a visitor. ‘Cool it, buddy,’ Zach said. ‘She’s not staying long.’
It was hard to ignore the stirring of male hormones in his body as he watched her alight from the car. She had a natural grace about her, lissom and lithe, like a ballerina or yoga enthusiast. She wasn’t particularly tall, or at least not compared to him at six feet three in bare feet. She was about five-six or -seven with a waist he could probably span with his hands, and her features were classically beautiful but in a rather understated way. She wore little or no make-up and her mid-length chestnut hair was tied back in a ponytail she had wound around itself in a casual knot, giving her a fresh, youthful look.
But it was her mouth his gaze kept tracking to. It was soft and full and had an upward curve that made it look like she was always on the brink of smiling.
* * *
‘Oh, what an adorable dog!’ Her smile lit up her brown eyes so much that they sparkled as she bent down to greet Popeye. ‘Oh, you darling little poppet. Who’s a good boy? Hang on a minute—are you a boy? Oh, yes, you are, you sweet little thing. Yes, I love you too.’ She laughed a tinkling-bell laugh and stood up again, her smile still stunningly bright as she stood and faced Zach. ‘Is he yours?’
Zach had to take a moment to gather himself after being on the receiving end of that dazzling smile.
Earth to Zach. Do you read me?
He wondered if he should fob Popeye off as his father’s but he had a feeling she wouldn’t buy it for a moment. ‘Yes.’
She angled her head at him in an appraising manner. ‘Funny, I had you picked as a collie or kelpie man, or maybe a German shepherd or Doberman guy.’
He kept his expression blank. ‘The station manager has working dogs. Popeye’s just a pet.’
She brushed a tendril of hair away from her face that the light breeze had worked loose. ‘This is a lovely property. I couldn’t believe how many birds I saw coming up the driveway.’
‘You’re not seeing it at its best. We need rain.’
She scanned the paddocks with one of her hands shading her eyes against the sun. ‘It’s still beautiful— Oh, there’s a kangaroo and it’s got a joey! He just popped his head out. How gorgeous!’
‘That’s Annie,’ Zach said.
She swung around to look at him again. ‘Is she a pet too?’
‘Not really.’ He waved another fly away from his face. ‘Her mother was killed on the highway. I reared her by hand and released her back into the wild a few years ago, but she hangs about a bit, mostly because of the drought.’
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘You reared her yourself?’
‘Yeah.’
Her pretty little nose was wrinkled over the bridge from her small frown. ‘Like with a bottle or something?’
‘Yep. Six feeds a day.’
‘How did you juggle that with work?’
‘I took her with me in a pillowcase.’
She blinked a couple of times as if she couldn’t quite imagine him playing wet-nurse. ‘That’s...amazing...’ She looked back at the paddock where Annie was grazing. ‘It must be wonderful to have all this space to yourself. To be this close to wildlife and to breathe in such fresh air instead of pollution.’
Zach saw her finely shaped nostrils widen to take in the eucalyptus scent of the