Waking Up With His Runaway Bride. Louisa George

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      They walked up the steep hill to the leafy campsite.

      Trailing a thick black hosepipe, a heavily pregnant woman in a floaty dress and gumboots walked round the outside of the neat welcoming office. Her breath was ragged and her cheeks puce. She raised her eyebrows at the entourage advancing towards her. ‘Mim. Tony. Bruce. I’ve told you, I’m not going anywhere. Stop badgering.’

      Making a quick assessment of the situation, Connor stepped forward and held out his hand. ‘Hey, Steph. I’m Connor, a doctor friend of Mim’s. In town for a few days.’ He watched recognition register. But he chose not to look at Mim. Friend? Not likely.

      ‘Hi.’ Steph wrapped her large hot hand into his, shook briefly and eyed him suspiciously. Her palms were sweaty, perspiration dripped from her forehead. Two bright red spots shone from her cheeks. She looked bewildered and breathless and not pleased to see him. He’d have put money on a threatening pre-eclampsia. And on her refusing to do anything about it.

      He feigned vague disinterest rather than acknowledge the growing urgency. Didn’t want to spook or stress her further. ‘This your place?’

      ‘Sure.’ She dug the heel of her palm into her flank and winced. ‘What of it?’

      ‘Nice. You obviously look after it well. Lucky escape. You must have been worried.’

      ‘All good. Just doing my job.’ Her shoulders straightened. Then she waved the thick hose at him. He had to admire her strength and capability in her condition. ‘I’ve finished damping down the outside. Managed to get all the punters out, though.’

      ‘Who knows if it’ll sweep down here? Nasty business, fires.’ Connor looked down at her swollen belly. ‘How long to go?’

      ‘Six weeks. Kicking like a good ‘un.’ She ran a hand across the small of her back and through the thin fabric he saw tight ripples across her belly. He needed to measure her blood pressure. Check her ankles for swelling, her urine for protein. Feel the babe’s position. ‘Little blighter’s going to be the best first five the All Blacks ever had.’

      Tony checked his watch. Connor took it as a signal to hurry. For once they were in agreement on something. ‘Braxton-Hicks?’

      ‘Yeah. Catches your breath sometimes.’ Doubling over, she grabbed her stomach.

      Mim closed the gap and took the woman’s arm. ‘You okay? You need a hand? You really should get out of the danger zone.’

      ‘I said I’m not leaving here.’ Steph straightened. ‘Not if you ask me, Mim McCarthy. Nor any of them.’

      Connor watched hurt flash across Mim’s eyes. Was that the kind of response she generally got? Was Steph’s mistrust directed at Mim or at them all? Hard to tell.

      But if Mim was up against this kind of antagonism she’d need a lot more than a positive Matrix assessment to build her practice. He knew more than anyone else that once Mim put her mind to something she achieved it. But she’d need support. Belief. Faith in her abilities. A chance.

      And he wasn’t the guy for that job. Was he?

      No. He was here to help Steph, do the assessment, then leave. Easy.

      He stepped forward. ‘You did your job well, Steph. Now let me do mine. I can see you’re uncomfortable. How about Mim and I take you down to town and check you over?’

      ‘I heard about a bush fire once where they evacuated the town and it was wrecked by looters. I can’t afford for anyone to nick my stuff.’

      So it wasn’t about Mim after all. But the idea of supporting her lingered—rather more than he wanted it to. For an ex-girlfriend who had dumped him she was lingering in his head too long altogether.

      ‘I can’t afford for you to put yourself and your baby at risk.’ He regarded Steph’s puffy fingers and breathlessness. She winced again and he fought back a need to carry her out of the bush himself.

      He didn’t have local knowledge or mana, the respect from Atanga Bay residents. But he had one thing he could use as leverage. One thing most women wouldn’t turn down. ‘I’ve got a de luxe room booked at the pub in town. King-size bed. Fresh linen. It’s yours for the night if you want. Have a rest, bubble bath. Take a load off. Tony can stay here and look after the place for you. Can’t you, Tony?’

      He glanced at his audience. Mim’s eyes popped. The foreman’s face was agape with anger as he spat out, ‘I have other things to—’

      ‘Fresh linen? Room service?’ That suspicion bit deeper but Steph chewed her lip. Tempted.

      Mim’s huge eyes got larger, her mouth opened and her tongue tip ran round her lips. She looked entranced and shocked.

      But impressed. God forgive him, but impressing Mim sure felt good.

      Which was downright absurd when he thought about it. She’d made her feelings very clear all those years ago, and again now. So he tried to convince himself he was offering this to a sick woman out of the goodness of his heart. ‘Okay. Yes, room service.’ He turned to Mim. ‘Are all you country women so difficult to please?’

      ‘You betcha, city boy.’

      Then he focused back on Steph. ‘If you promise we can check you over. Make sure that smoke’s not got into your lungs, what d’you say?’

      ‘Okay, I suppose. Just one night.’ She smiled towards Tony and nodded like she was doing them all a huge favour. ‘Anything to get that lazy good-for-nothin’ fella to do something useful, eh?’

      Great, now he had Steph on side, he just had to work on the rest of the hillbillies.

      ‘Just got off the phone to the fire chief. The danger’s over. For now at least.’ Mim placed a plate of kai and a cup of hot malted drink on the desk in front of Connor. He nodded his thanks and smiled, momentarily whipping her breath away.

      The danger outside was over, but it was steaming hot in the office.

      A shower in the community hall amenities and a change of clothes had transformed Connor from executive to beach bum. But even in shorts and a black T-shirt he oozed authority and X-rated sex appeal.

      She watched him swallow the drink, his Adam’s apple moving mesmerisingly up and down. Then she dragged her eyes away and made for the door. ‘Bring your dinner outside, it’s a warm evening and a lovely onshore breeze. Lots of fresh air, no smoke.’

      He scrubbed a hand through his wavy hair and looked up from the pile of files. Tiny lines crinkled round his temples as he squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and focused on her. Pierced her with his dark gaze. ‘No. You go. I’ve got a day’s work to catch up on.’

      ‘Given any thought to where you’re going to sleep tonight?’

      When they’d got back to town and handed over Connor’s room to Steph they’d discovered the pub was fully booked with campers. Guilt ate at her soul. He’d rushed off to help her friends. Given up his bed for a pregnant woman. Broken protocol, which would have been hard for him.

      Made her break protocol, СКАЧАТЬ