CHAPTER ONE

      FIONA SAVILLE shivered. It wasn’t the unfamiliar ice and snow covering the tiny Hanmer Springs airstrip that sent a chill down her spine, but the battered four-wheel drive approaching along the grass runway. More particularly, the driver of the vehicle.

      She leaned back against the Cessna for support. Heaven knew she needed it. Her legs were quivering. Oh, for goodness’ sake, get a grip. You’ve had ten days to be ready for this. Her mouth dried. No amount of preparation could have stopped the butterflies now batting around in her stomach. It had been six long, distressing years since she’d last seen Tom.

      At least try to look calm. She shoved her shaking hands in her jacket pockets and crossed her ankles. An old pose Tom would recognise as nonchalance. She hoped.

      A car skidded to a halt five metres from the tail of the plane and the door cracked open. Fiona’s eyes were fixed on the space behind that door, watching the man straightening up as he stepped down on to the ice-encrusted grass.

      The ground rolled under her feet. Her shoulderblades dug into the metal body behind her. Tom looked so—good. So Tom. Lean and tall, strong and loose-limbed, tanned. The door slammed shut, giving her a bigger picture. He was dressed in his usual butt-hugging jeans and open-necked shirt, with the addition of a thick ski jacket. His unruly black curls had fallen prey to a very short cut. Those steely grey eyes held the same alluring temptation she’d once fallen in love with, despite the way they now appeared hard and uncompromising as they focused on her.

      A breath trickled through her dry lips. No turning back now. She pushed away from the fuselage and stepped out to face him. ‘Hello, Tom. It’s good to see you.’ If ever there was an understatement that was it. ‘I’m glad you came to pick me up and not one of your staff.’

      He held her gaze, just for a moment, the tension electric between them. ‘Fiona, it’s great to see you, too.’ He strode across the gap separating them and placed his arms around her in a brief, barely squeezing hug.

      She gasped. He smelt the same. That freshly shaven male scent that seemed peculiar to Tom. She jerked away, striving for control over her highly sharpened senses.

      ‘It’s been a long while,’ he said.

      A mental shake and she managed a reply. ‘Yes, and I hear you’ve been busy in that time. Your own specialist children’s hospital, no less.’

      ‘We have got a bit to catch up on, haven’t we?’ He stepped back. ‘How was the flight down from Auckland?’

      ‘Moderately turbulent over the Cook Strait and the South Island. There’s a storm on the way, due to hit this area late tonight.’

      ‘So I saw on the weather channel. Not unexpected in the middle of winter.’ His gaze slid over her, unreadable. ‘Thanks for stepping into the breach. I had a mild panic when Jerome had his accident, poor guy. I thought I’d have to cancel the surgery roster for the week.’

      He seemed so relaxed, unperturbed at her presence here. How could he be like that after all this time? After the awful way they’d separated? Damn it, but she was about to move into his hospital to work with him and he didn’t appear at all flustered.

      Take a leaf out of his book. Don’t show him the turmoil going on inside. Fiona tugged her shoulders back harder, lifted her chin in an attempt to negate the effect of the flood of anxiety pooling in her stomach, and stretched a smile over her lips.

      ‘It was a bit of luck that I approached the agency when I did.’