Medical Romance October 2016 Books 1-6. Amy Andrews

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      She dozed off to the sound of the sea.

      * * *

      It felt like only moments later that she woke to an unfamiliar sound. A slamming door.

      She was still getting used to the different sounds and rhythms of the city. She could sleep through the early morning crowing of a rooster and the deep rumble of a tractor but the slightest noise in the middle of suburbia disturbed her. Rubbish trucks, the tooting of ferry horns, slamming of car doors and the loud conversations of late-night commuters or drinking buddies on their way home from the pub all intruded on her dreams, but this noise was louder than all of those. This noise was close.

      She heard footsteps on the wooden floorboards and saw light streaming under her bedroom door as the passage light flicked on.

      Shit. There was someone in the house.

      She put her hand on her chest. Her heart was racing.

      What should she do?

      Call out?

      No, that would only draw attention to herself.

      Find a weapon of some sort? She’d seen a set of golf clubs but they were in a cupboard near the front door. She couldn’t get to them and there was nothing in the bedroom. Maybe a shot of hair spray to the face would work—if only she used hairspray.

      Should she call the police? But how quickly would they get here? Not fast enough, she assumed.

      She had no idea what to do. She’d never had to fend for herself.

      She sat up in bed, and scrabbled for her phone in the dark. She was too afraid to turn on the light, worried it would draw the attention of the intruder. She clutched the sheet to her chest to cover her nakedness. Perhaps she should find some clothes first. She didn’t want to confront a burglar while naked.

      She could hear him crossing the living room. The tread of the steps were heavy. Man heavy. She could hear boots. The steps weren’t light and delicate. He wasn’t making any attempt to be quiet. There was a loud thump as something soft but weighty hit the floor. It didn’t sound like a person. A bag maybe? A bag of stolen goods?

      Her heart was still racing and the frantic pounding almost drowned out the sound of the footsteps. That made her pause. This had to be the world’s noisiest burglar. She hadn’t had much experience with burglars but surely they would generally try to be quiet? This one was making absolutely no attempt to be silent. Plus he had turned the lights on. Definitely not stealthy.

      He was a terrible burglar, possibly one of the worst ever.

      But maybe he thought the house was empty? Perhaps she should make some noise? Enough noise for two people.

      She heard the soft pop as the seal on the fridge door was broken. She frowned. Now he was looking in the fridge? Making himself at home. She was positive it wasn’t Callum. Luci had spoken to Flick earlier in the day. Callum had well and truly arrived in Vickers Hill and according to her friend he was creating a bit of a stir. Luci hoped he wasn’t going to prove difficult—he was supposed to be making things easier for her dad, not harder, but she couldn’t do much about it. All it meant to her was that it wasn’t Callum in the apartment. And she was pretty sure by now that it wasn’t a burglar either, but that still meant a stranger was in the house.

      She needed to get dressed.

      She switched on the bedside light and was halfway out of bed when she heard the footsteps moving along the passage. While she was debating her options she saw the bedroom door handle moving.

      OMG, they were coming in.

      ‘You’d better get out of here. I’ve called the police,’ she yelled, not knowing what else to do.

      The door handle continued to turn and a voice said, ‘You’ve done what?’

      When it became obvious that the person who belonged to the voice was intent on entering her room she jumped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, grabbing her phone just in case she did need to call the cops.

      ‘I’ll scream,’ she added for good measure.

      But the door continued to open and a vision appeared. Luci wondered briefly if she was dreaming. Her heart was racing at a million miles an hour but now she had no clue whether it was due to nerves, fear, panic or simple lust. This intruder might just be the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. Surely someone this gorgeous couldn’t be evil?

      But then Ted Bundy sprang to mind. He was a good-looking, charming, educated man who just happened to be a serial killer. ‘Don’t come any closer,’ she said.

      He stopped and held his hands out to his sides. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, but who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?’ he said.

      ‘Your room?’

      Was this Callum? She was certain she’d chosen the guest bedroom but, anyway, what was he doing here? He couldn’t have got back to Sydney that quickly. He was supposed to be a thousand miles away, staying in her house. That was how a house swap worked. ‘Why aren’t you in Vickers Hill?’

      ‘What the heck is Vickers Hill?’

      Luci frowned. ‘Who are you?’

      He couldn’t be Callum. So whose room was she in exactly?

      ‘Seb. Seb Hollingsworth.’

      Seb.

      ‘You’re not Callum?’

      A crease appeared between his superb blue eyes as he frowned. ‘No. I’m his brother.’

      Luci almost missed his answer, distracted as she was by the thick, dark eyelashes that framed his eyes.

      ‘Brother!’ Why hadn’t Callum warned her? She sat up in the bed, taking care to make sure the sheets prevented any sort of indecent exposure. ‘Callum didn’t mention you.’

      ‘So you do know Cal, then?’

      ‘Sort of.’

      He lifted one eyebrow but said nothing.

      Luci could play that game too. And she used the silent seconds to examine the vision a little more closely.

      He truly was gorgeous. Tall, really tall, with thick dark hair, chestnut she’d call it. He had eyebrows to match that shaded piercing blue eyes and a nose that may or may not have been broken once upon a time. His lips were full and pink, and a two-day growth of beard darkened his jaw.

      His torso was bare but he held what appeared to be a black T-shirt in his hand. Just what had he been planning on doing? she wondered, before she was distracted again by his broad shoulders and smooth chest. He reminded her of someone, she thought as her eyes roamed over his body.

      The statue of David, she thought, brought to life. He was made of warm flesh instead of cool marble but had the same, startling level of perfection.

      Her heart was still beating a rapid tattoo. Adrenaline was still СКАЧАТЬ