Her Brooding Italian Surgeon (4 page)

‘Well, you owe me because I've done print, radio and television interviews and I'm “mediaed” out.'

The soothing aroma of camomile wafted towards her and, for the first time since she'd walked into work hours ago, she relaxed. ‘You'll look good on TV.' The words rolled out of her mouth before her exhausted brain could censor them and she gasped, wanting to grab them back.

Have you lost your mind
? Warrior Abbie held her shield high over her heart, her expression incredulous.

Leo grinned—a smile full of the knowledge that not only did he know he'd look bloody fantastic on TV, he'd also heard her gaffe. A gaffe a man like Leo Costa would read as an open invitation. He stared her down. ‘I didn't think you'd noticed.'

Establish distance
. From the moment she'd met him she'd been cool and it was time to dig deep and find her Zen so she could cope with him and keep herself safe. She tossed her head, hating the way her curls tangled into her eyes, ruining the attempted nonchalant look. ‘Let me put it this way. I noticed, and perhaps even enjoyed noticing, but not even your glossy magazine good-looks quite make up for the disrespect you showed me last night.'

She expected a tremor of anger or at the very least repressed indignation but instead he walked over to her and extended his hand.

‘Hello, I'm Leo Costa, general surgeon and grandson of Maria Rossi. Pleased to meet you.'

She frowned as she swung her legs off the table and slowly raised her hand to his, all the time wondering what was actually going on. ‘Abbie McFarlane.'

His firm grip wrapped around hers, underpinned with a
gentle softness that had peril written all over it. ‘I hear you're the doctor who's been looking after my grandmother and you've had a few problems with one of the relatives?'

She studied his face, trying to read beyond the charm and the pretend first greeting. ‘He hit ten on the difficult scale.'

His eyes widened fractionally but he didn't disagree as he sat down on the coffee table, directly opposite her. ‘Looking back, I think he let fear for his grandmother interfere with his medical judgement.'

She hadn't expected that answer—the man had just verbalised his dread and that wasn't something charismatic men usually did. ‘I can understand the fright.'

‘Well, it caught me by complete surprise. Nonna's always been so fit and well and…' He puffed out a short breath before giving a wry and apologetic smile. ‘I'm sorry for what I said; I was out of line. If it makes you feel any better, my family berated me at breakfast.'

Breakfast?
The word clanged in her head like a fire bell. ‘Hang on; you were still insisting at nine a.m. that Maria be cared for by someone else.'

His shoulders rose as his head tilted slightly like a kid who'd been presented with the prosecuting evidence of an empty biscuit barrel. ‘Stubbornness is one of my less fortunate attributes.'

Her lips twitched. ‘One? So there are more?'

He captured her gaze, his eyes twinkling. ‘All I will confess to is that I'm not planning on being difficult about this again. Nonna's lucky to have you; indeed Bandarra's fortunate to have a GP of your calibre, Abbie.'

She saw the captivating smile, heard the warm praise, but the bells still pealed loud in her head. ‘So what you're really saying is I'm still Maria's doctor because you've realised there's no one else.'

‘No. That's not what I'm saying at all.' Dismay extinguished the twinkle in his eyes and for the second time today she glimpsed a hint of the real man behind the smooth façade. ‘I admit to making a snap judgement last night and I've apologised for that.'

The tic in his jaw said apologies were not something he did very often. ‘But I worked alongside you today and there's no doubt you know your medicine.'

The sincerity in his voice finally satisfied her. ‘Thank you.'

‘You're welcome.' He moved back to the bench and carried over the tea before sitting down next to her. His firm lips curved upwards into a conspiratorial smile full of shared experiences. ‘It was one hell of a day, wasn't it?'

His words matched her thoughts, which totally unnerved her. First there'd been the unexpected apology and now he appeared to want to sit and chat. That alone was enough to cope with, but added on top was his scent and aura swirling around her like an incoming tide, creating rafts of delicious sensation tickling along her veins.

He shifted his weight and the couch moved, tilting her closer to him. Silver spots danced in her head.
No, no, no.
It took every exhausted molecule to force herself to stay upright and not give in to his magnetic pull—the one that called for her to lean against his arm and lay her head on his broad shoulder. But she knew only too well that men like Leo Costa were like the foxglove plant. Pretty to look at but potentially life-threatening, and the last thing her heart needed again was life-support.

She sipped her tea, trying hard to ignore the delicious tingling on her skin and the fluttering in her stomach that sitting so close to him had activated. Warrior Abbie raised her sword across the shield. She could do this. She could sit here for a few minutes and make polite conversation because, come midnight, Leo Costa would leave her hospital. The emergency was
over and they'd resolved the issue of Maria's care. She couldn't imagine him staying in Bandarra very long before Melbourne called him home, and with his departure the status quo of Bandarra Base and her much-coveted quiet life would be restored. Yes, everything would return to normal. She smiled and breathed out a long, slow, satisfying breath.

Leo sipped his tea, watching Abbie holding her cup close to her chest as if it were some sort of protective guard. An unusual cosy feeling of well-being floated through him—something he never experienced when he was in Bandarra. Could an apology really have that effect? Apparently so. He'd always prided himself on being fair and he hadn't given Abbie the same consideration. He let the odd feeling settle over him. Today had been incredible. Not just the excitement of the ‘seat-of-your-pants' surgery but working alongside Abbie. She had an air of self-containment that intrigued him.
Those eyes intrigued him.

She stared at her shapely ankles, which rested again on the coffee table, and sighed. ‘I could live without the todays of this world. We were lucky to have your expertise. Thanks.'

He was used to gushing praise but the plain appreciation had an unambiguous authenticity which he appreciated. ‘I'm just glad I was here. These days I mostly do elective surgery, although I'm on the trauma roster at Melbourne City. Thankfully, I'm not always needed.'

She turned her head to look at him and understanding wove across her face, joining her cute sun-kissed freckles. ‘But there's nothing quite like the buzz of a good save.'

He grinned. ‘Yeah, but you can't actually go around wishing accidents on people or saying stuff like that or you sound macabre.'

She chuckled. ‘You're a surgeon; it's a given.'

He tried to look affronted but instead he joined in with her
tinkling laughter. Abbie McFarlane had a straight-shooting delivery style that was as refreshing as it was unusual. He realised with a thud that apart from his immediate family, not many people spoke their mind to him any more.

She returned her gaze to her feet and he fought the urge to caress her jaw with his fingers and tilt her head back towards him so he could look into her eyes. He wanted to dive into those eyes which had stared back at him so many times today from over the top of a surgical mask, expressing everything from fear to joy.

Instead, he breathed in deeply, letting her intoxicating scent of fresh berries roll through him.

‘So is this a flying visit to Bandarra?'

His libido crashed and burned as the familiar Bandarra-induced agitation spiralled through him. ‘Yesterday I would have said yes. I usually fly in and fly out because I'm frantic in Melbourne.'

You keep telling yourself that's the reason. It's served you well for years.
He shut his mind against the eminently reasonable voice he'd been silencing for almost as long. ‘Nonna's CVA gave me a wake-up call and I want to spend a bit of time with her.'

As if in slow motion, she moved her gaze from her feet to his face, her irises widening into a reflective pool. ‘Meaning?'

‘I've asked my secretary to set back my patient list for the month.'

A shadow passed through her amazing eyes and her usually well-modulated voice rose slightly. ‘So you're here for a few weeks?'

‘Yep. Family time.' A jet of edgy unease tangoed with the flow of imposed duty. Spending time with Nonna was the right thing to do but the fact it meant spending a few weeks in Bandarra sent a shot of acid into his gut, eating at the lining. How the hell was he going to fill his days and stay sane?

He leaned back and breathed in deeply, trying to relax his chest as he stretched his arms across the back of the couch. Immediately, his fingers itched to curl around Abbie's alabaster neck and feel her softness against his skin.

Getting to know Abbie would keep the Bandarra demons at bay.

There was nothing quite like the thrill of the chase and the idea offered him the first ray of hope he'd felt since his father had demanded he stay. It would be the perfect distraction. ‘I'm looking forward to spending some time with you too, now we're friends.'

Her torso shot abruptly away from the back of the couch as if she'd been electrocuted and her eyebrows shot skyward. ‘Friends?' The word sounded strangled. ‘That's probably going a bit far.'

Stunned surprise dumped on him like the cold and clammy touch of slime. He couldn't even think of a time when someone had rejected his overtures and the feeling stung like a wasp—sharp and painful. His jaw tensed as he tried to hold on to his good humour. ‘Colleagues, then.'

She gave a tight laugh. ‘We're hardly colleagues.'

Her words bit, devaluing his interpretation of the last fourteen hours and stripping bare the memory of the camaraderie and professionalism they'd shared. ‘What the hell do you call today, then?'

‘Long.' She lurched to her feet, her gaze wavering until it finally rested on his left shoulder. ‘I have to do a final round, Leo, so I'll say goodnight. Thanks for your help today and enjoy your holiday in Bandarra.' She turned her back and walked away from him and towards the door.

His jaw fell open at her abrupt dismissal of him and a curse rose to his lips, but it stalled at the sight of her baggy scrubs moving against a curvaceous butt. Lust collided with aggrava
tion and shuddered through him. His palm tingled, his blood roared hot and he wanted to haul her back by those caramel curls, wrap her in his arms and demolish her prickly reserve with a kiss.

For the first time in months his body came alive—every colour seemed brighter, every feeling more intense and he buzzed with the wonder of it. He didn't know if it was the aftermath of the sheer rush of the emergency or the challenge of the very brisk Abbie McFarlane but, either way, if he had to stay in Bandarra he had to keep busy. Seducing Abbie McFarlane would be the perfect distraction. He clapped his hands as the seeds of a plan started to shoot. This was going to be too much fun and Abbie McFarlane didn't stand a chance.

A
BBIE
let Murphy, her Border collie, pull her along the path, totally oblivious to the usually soothing gnarled river red-gums with their silver and grey bark. Not even the majestic sight of fifteen pelicans coming in to land on the blue-brown river water could haul her mind away from the fact that Leo Costa was staying in Bandarra.

She gave a half-laugh tinged with madness that had Murphy looking up at her, his tawny-gold eyes quizzical. She'd been dreading Justin leaving, knowing that her workload would double. Now that seemed like a saving grace because she'd be so flat out virtually living at the clinic and the hospital that she'd never have any time in town to run into Leo. Who knew work would save her?

The magpies' early morning call drifted towards her and she heard a message in the flute-like song. Work had saved her before. Greg might have stripped her of everything else, but he hadn't been able to take away her job. She'd survived and rebuilt her independence. Never again would she confuse lust with love, charm for affection, or control for care. Now she had the unconditional love of a dog, which she'd choose every single time over the pile of broken promises men left in their wake.

‘Come on, Murph, time for breakfast at the clinic.' She
broke into a jog, channelling all her energies into the run, driving away every unsettling thought of an onyx-eyed man with broad shoulders that hinted at being able to shelter those he loved from the world.

The clinic was in the hospital grounds and housed in the original Bandarra hospital which had been lovingly restored in its centennial year. With its high gabled roof, tall chimneys and cream-painted decorative timber, it welcomed patients with its sweeping veranda and kangaroo motifs worked lovingly into the mosaic floor. Abbie had seen an old photo from 1908 where a hammock hung on the veranda so she'd bought a brightly coloured hammock and had slung it between the last two posts on the front veranda. One day she planned to have time to lie in it for more than the brief ‘test' she'd taken when she'd installed it. Meanwhile Murphy enjoyed lying underneath it, using it as shade.

The thick brick walls always offered a respite from the heat. ‘Morning, Debbie,' Abbie called to her practice nurse as she made her way into the cool kitchen, her stomach rumbling at the thought of fresh grapes just off the vine combined with locally made yoghurt drizzled with honey. ‘Where's Jessica?'

Debbie followed her into the kitchen. ‘She's come down with a filthy cold so I'm afraid we're juggling reception and patients today.'

Abbie groaned. ‘That's a great start to being one doctor down. Has anything come from the board about a new appointee?' She dropped thick slices of crusty bakery bread into the toaster.

‘Robert Gleeson said he's had applications from Egypt, India and Kenya and he'd be catching up with you soon for interview times.'

Abbie sighed. Rural medicine seemed to only attract doctors with the ‘short-term' in mind and then they left just as she'd
trained them up. The thought reminded her that yesterday's emergency had got in the way of a farewell. ‘Is Justin able to have his party tonight?'

Debbie shook her head sadly. ‘He's set to leave this morning but I'm sure he'll call by first. Meanwhile, I got in early and pulled the histories for the first patients and my diabetic clinic doesn't start until ten so I can woman the phones.'

She smiled. ‘Thanks, Debbie, and thanks for keeping things ticking over here yesterday while I was tied up at the hospital all day. You have no idea what a load you take off me with your clinics, which reminds me, the funding came through for your “travelling pap test” clinic, so well done on that too.'

Debbie beamed with the praise before dashing out to answer the phone, leaving Abbie alone to eat her breakfast. The next time she was alone was four hours later when the morning session finally wrapped up. ‘Debbie, I'm grabbing lunch from Tony's; do you want me to get you anything?'

The practice nurse stuck her head out of the treatment room. ‘I'm set, thanks, and Eli Jenkins is here for his ulcer treatment. Can you check the fax? I just heard it beep at reception.'

Abbie's head was already spinning from hunger. She had a huge afternoon ahead of her and all she could think of right now was one of Tony's focaccias and a mug of his creamy latte—he refused to serve it in a glass, saying it was a travesty to good coffee. ‘It won't be anything urgent. I'll read it when I get back.'

The heat hit her the moment she opened the heavy red-gum door and she automatically reached for her sunhat, which she always hung on the coat-stand. She loved making sure the clinic had an ‘at home' welcoming feel to it and the hat-stand was part of that, as was the umbrella stand with its stash of umbrellas. Not that they got used very often as it had been ages since Bandarra had seen rain. Moths would probably fly out if a patient opened one.

Usually Murphy raced to the door to meet her, ever hopeful of a walk, no matter how short, but his smiling face wasn't waiting for her. She glanced down the long veranda, ready to call her dog, but Murphy's name died on her lips as her mouth dried to a crisp.

Lying in her hammock, and looking for all the world as if he belonged there, was Leo. His long and tanned shorts-clad legs stretched out in front of him, and one arm was crooked behind the back of his head, the angle moulding his soft cotton designer T-shirt tight to the well defined muscles of his chest and shoulders. Aviator sunglasses covered his onyx eyes while his other long-fingered surgeon's hand dangled lazily over the hammock's side, stroking Murphy's head.

The Border collie looked up adoringly while his tail thumped out an enthusiastic tattoo.

Turncoat!

Hot and cold streaked through Abbie, making her tremble and sending her already spinning head into a vortex spiral where hunger, lust and fast-fading common sense got sucked in together.
Danger—stay strong
. She dragged in a deep and steadying breath. If she ignored him, she could pretend he wasn't here. She slapped her thigh and called her dog. ‘Murphy, here, boy.'

The dog turned his black and white head and smiled at her as if to say,
Look who I found; come meet him too.

Leo rose elegantly from the hammock, in total contrast to the inelegant way Abbie had fallen out of it the day she'd tried, and he walked up the veranda towards her with her dog trotting besottedly by his side. She wanted to hate him but really she only hated her reaction to him. A reaction she must master.

His smile lit up the air around him, although the slight aura of tension she'd occasionally glimpsed hovered. ‘Hello, Abbie. Great dog; is he yours?'

She nodded and, knowing she couldn't ignore him, she chose the direct approach—the one that usually made her sound brisk and officious and had very occasionally sent interns scurrying. ‘What are you doing here, Leo?'

He didn't even blink at the bald words. Instead, he tilted his head and met her gaze with a friendly and open expression. ‘I thought we could have lunch together.'

No way
. ‘I don't think so. I'm just grabbing a quick focaccia before afternoon clinic.' She turned away from him and staring straight ahead, determined not to look at him, she started walking towards town.

‘Me too.' Leo fell easily into step beside her.

The scent of laundry powder mixed in with healthy masculine sweat encircled her, fuzzing her brain. ‘Why do you need a quick lunch when surely the point of being on holiday is being able to have a long lunch?'

‘Afternoon clinic starts at two, right?'

Her head snapped sideways so fast she felt something rip. ‘It does, but why does that concern you?'

His friendly smile suddenly became wide and knowing. ‘I hate being late.'

She felt her brows draw down towards the bridge of her nose and heard her mother's warning voice shriek,
wrinkles
. She batted the voice away, needing all her concentration to stay on top of what was going on. He surely didn't look sick; in fact he looked decadently healthy, and yesterday's fatigue which had played around his eyes had completely vanished. Today he looked relaxed and gorgeous. Dangerously gorgeous. ‘Do you have an appointment?'

A ripple of unexpected confusion skated across his usually confident face. ‘Robert Gleeson should have told you this morning.'

Her throat tightened at the hospital CEO's name and every nerve-ending fired off a mass alert. ‘Told me what?'

‘That I'm doing half days to help out until the new doctor is appointed.'

Silver spots danced in front of her eyes.
Leo working in the clinic.
Oh, God, that was probably what the fax she'd so cheerfully ignored had been about. Jumbled thoughts tumbled off her lips. ‘But you're on holiday to spend time with your family.' She heard her rising voice, the words tinged with slight hysteria. ‘Surely you don't want a busman's holiday?'

He shrugged, but it seemed overly casual, as if he'd had to try hard to achieve the effect. ‘I can do both. Robert contacted me this morning after getting yesterday's report and seeing all the media attention. He thought it would help you out and it suits me. I like to keep busy.'

She grasped at straws but they seemed lined with slippery mud. ‘But you're a surgeon.'

Intelligent eyes fixed her with a piercing look. ‘So what are you saying? That I can't cut it as a GP?'

The mud threatened to dump right on top of her and she opted for the easy jibe. ‘There's a lot of listening and not much cutting. You'll be bored rigid after one session.'

Two jet-black brows rose, disappearing under a thatch of thick hair. ‘That's a big statement based on nothing much at all. Are you always this quick to judge?'

His words hit with painful accuracy and sliced open guilt. Yesterday he'd been great with his patients and she couldn't fault that but she didn't trust herself working with him. ‘I just meant that the work won't be the high-powered stuff you're used to.'

He crossed his arms across a powerful chest. ‘Maybe I can make a dent in the waiting list Robert was talking about, seeing as you only get a visiting surgeon once a month. Like I said, I like to keep busy.'

The reality of the waiting list duelled with the sheer panic that bubbled furiously inside her at the thought of working with
Leo. Of staying safe and not being tempted to go down a self-destructive path.
Remember Greg.
But the waiting list issue was bigger than her and the hardworking people of Bandarra had enough to contend with from the tough climatic and economic conditions of the area. They deserved the unexpected advantage of a surgeon in their midst for a few weeks, even if Leo Costa's charisma scared her witless.

She swallowed hard and forced up the words that needed to be said. ‘I'll take you up on that.'

He clapped his hands. ‘On lunch? Excellent.'

Charm played on his high cheekbones, both enticing and inviting, and deep inside Abbie a tiny crack widened. How much danger could there possibly be in sitting down for a quick focaccia?

Plenty.
Warrior Abbie raised her shield.
This is work.

She cleared her throat and shored up her determination to keep Leo Costa a solid distance away from her, both physically and emotionally. She pasted on her professional smile. ‘I'll take you up on the offer of reducing the waiting list. In fact I'll pull out the files and we can prioritise a list. How does that sound?'

He nodded agreeably. ‘It sounds fine.'

But there was something about the timbre of his voice and the easy smile that played on his lips that had Abbie regretting the whole idea. Leo Costa working in Bandarra might be good medicine for the town but it was a health hazard for her.

 

Leo strode from the clinic towards the hospital on his way to visit Nonna before his planning meeting with Abbie. With Debbie's able assistance, Leo's first session had been remarkably smooth and, although he'd seen a lot of patients, he hadn't seen anything of Abbie. It had been on the tip of his tongue to suggest they take their meeting over dinner but that would only give her another excuse to say no and she was ex
tremely good at that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to work so hard at getting a date but her ‘no's' just made him more determined and inventive. He'd rung Anna's restaurant and ordered an antipasti platter and a bottle of wine so they could meet and eat at the clinic, and he might just be able to break down that intriguing wall of aloofness she was so good at building.

‘Ciao,
Nonna,
com stai?'

Nonna raised her hand and smiled. ‘Leopoldo. When am I going home?'

‘You have to ask Abbie that, Nonna. I promised her I wouldn't interfere.'

Nonna's perceptive gaze instantly turned curious but that didn't hide the lining of reproach. ‘You've broken promises to women before.'

He sighed and rubbed his chin, realising he'd just unwittingly stepped into a topic he usually did his best to avoid. Nonna had taken his divorce from Christina personally and it was the only thing about him and his life where she actively voiced disappointment. It amazed him that she should be so angry with him over a failed marriage and yet never blame him for Dom's death when the cause lay so squarely at his feet. But perhaps she did blame him because Dom and Christina were inextricably linked and always would be.

‘So, Maria, I've got good new—' Abbie breezed into the ward, a white coat covering a crumpled pair of knee-length khaki shorts and a white blouse that begged for the touch of a hot iron. Her green eyes widened as if she'd taken a jolt of electricity.

‘Leo.' A ripple of tension wove through her from the top of her sun-kissed caramel curls, down and around pert breasts, across a nipped-in waist, before spinning around curvaceous legs and disappearing into the floor. ‘I thought you were still at the clinic.'