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CHAPTER TWO

EMILY glanced at the clock. A quarter to one. Dr D’Arvello would have little sleep before his surgery day. She wondered if he was as used to lack of sleep as she was.

From her height above where he sat at the desk she couldn’t help noticing the thickness of his dark hair. No sign of grey but he must be in his mid-thirties. A few years older than her and so much more experienced with the world. That deficit hadn’t bothered her before. Why should it now? Silly. ‘You wished to see me, Doctor?’

His dark eyes swept up from the notes and over her face. He smiled and she found herself grinning back like a goose before she could stop herself. ‘I did not know you were a midwife at your daughter’s visit this morning.’

It felt so long ago. ‘It’s not important?’

He frowned. ‘But I would have offered more explanation if you wished. Is there more I can tell you?’

‘No. Thank you.’ She shrugged, a little embarrassed to admit it. ‘Of course I have researched the internet and read what I can find. I think I understand the operation well enough.’

He nodded. ‘Sometimes I wish my clients would not look up on the internet but I am sure you picked well with your sites. The procedure is fairly simple. Perhaps a little more complicated than June’s surgery, but over almost as quickly.’

He stood up, towered over her again, and seemed to hesitate. ‘And will you have to come to work tomorrow night after your daughter’s operation?’

Her stomach dropped with a tinge of alarm. Was there bad news he hadn’t mentioned? ‘Actually, I’m not.’ Did he think she would be too upset?

Still he frowned. ‘So when will you sleep?’

‘I’ll go home as soon as Annie is out of surgery. So I will sleep when she does, afterwards.’

‘You will be tired.’ He handed her the completed notes and she took them and stared at the pages. Not really seeing his looping scrawl. Looked anywhere but his face. It had been a while since anyone had wondered if she was tired and his kindness made her feel strange. This whole conversation was surreal because she was so ridiculously conscious of him.

She risked a glance. ‘I was just thinking the same for you.’

He shrugged his manly shoulders and she felt her stomach kick. This was crazy. She was way too aware of this man, this transient doctor. ‘I sleep less than four hours a night. Always have done.’

‘And I survive on about the same. I’m used to it.’ She opened the folder at the medication page. She needed to get this injection for June happening. The last one had been given twelve hours ago at the regional hospital. ‘So we have something in common.’

He wasn’t ready to let her go. ‘Perhaps we have more than that.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

He smiled but there was mischief that made her cheeks pink again. ‘A concern and empathy for our patients.’

What had she thought he meant? ‘Oh. Of course. Well, thank you for your concern. I’ll just go for the hydrocortisone for June.’

‘Perhaps one more thing?’ He held up one finger. ‘The reason I asked.’

She stopped. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Tomorrow night. Because your daughter will be in the hospital. Perhaps you will need diversion from worry. It is Friday.’

She didn’t get it. ‘And?’

‘A favour. I have promised myself a dinner on your so beautiful Sydney Harbour. I am only here for a month. It would be more pleasant to have company.’

Good grief. He was asking her out. On a date? ‘I’m sure lots of ladies would love to be your company.’

He shrugged, as if aware what she said was true, not with conceit but with disinterest. ‘I would prefer you.’

Normally he had no problem asking a beautiful woman to dinner. So why was this difficult? He just wanted to enjoy a diversion with this woman, not ask her to have his babies. Why stumble around like a callow youth when she obviously wanted to get on with her work?

It seemed his offer was the last thing she’d expected. He did not think shock was a good reaction and waited with unusual tension while she recovered.

‘Well, I guess you won’t run away because you find I have a teenage daughter.’

‘This has happened?’

‘Imagine.’ She turned away. ‘Anyway. Thank you. But, no, thank you. I don’t date.’

‘But this is not a date. Just kindness on your part.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Tricky. Then perhaps I could let you know tomorrow. In the mean time, you could keep looking. Now I must get back to June.’

‘Bene. Of course. Buonanotte.’

‘Goodnight.’

Marco left the ward with a smile on his face. It had seemed fortuitous to find the woman who had whispered through his brain at odd moments all day, unexpectedly, on this maternity ward.

A midwife, no less, and someone he would see a little of in the course of his work. And he had planned to dine on the harbour at some stage, though perhaps not tomorrow. And she intrigued him—though a conquest might not be easy. Always a challenge he could not resist.

But with sudden clarity he’d realised that Emily would be unlikely to leave her daughter unattended, except for work, when they lived together. So it had to be tomorrow or the next night or not at all. He smiled to himself. Perhaps her doctor could keep Annie in an extra night for rest. Bad doctor.

He didn’t know why he was so sure there was no man in Emily’s life, but she had the look of an untouched woman, and he trusted his instincts. She said she did not date. At least that instinct had been correct. A date would be good for her.

She hadn’t said yes but that made it all more interesting. The degree of anticipation he could feel building already made him smile. He’d brushed off the need for appreciation and commitment, had had it leached out of him throughout his dark childhood, but a harmless dalliance could hurt no one and he would give much for Emily Cooper to look on his invitation with approval. But not until tomorrow would he find out.

Emily’s night passed quickly and thankfully without time for the distraction of Marco D’Arvello’s unexpected invitation. June’s premature contractions settled, but the arrival of two women in labour, one after the other, left little time for her to work out how she was going to turn him down.

When Emily finished her shift the sun shone through the windshield straight into her eyes as she drove home to the little cottage above the pier at Balmain East she’d inherited from her gran.

On night duty public transport didn’t work. Through the days she caught ferries. She couldn’t actually see Sydney harbour from her windows but the swish of the wash on the shore from passing boats floated in her window at night as she dressed for work.

Annie was pacing the front veranda as she waited for her mother to arrive home.

‘Why did you have to be late, today of all days?’

Emily carried her bag into the house and tried not to sigh. ‘We’ve been busy. I didn’t dawdle for the fun of it.’

Annie dropped her complaints and hugged her mother warmly. ‘Sorry. I’m nervous …’ she twisted her fingers … and started to worry we’d be late.’ She shook her head. ‘And baby was awake and moving most of the night. It’s almost as if she’s nervous too.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she was. Babies pick up on their mother’s mood.’

Annie tilted her head and studied her mother. ‘Well, I can see you need a cup of tea so maybe I can pick up yours too. I made you raisin toast!’ It was a large statement. In case Emily didn’t get the significance she added, ‘Even though I’m starving myself because I have to fast.’

Emily was pleased to see after the initial stress Annie had calmed down. And was being nice. Though the last thing she wanted to do was eat. Her stomach was in knots about Annie’s hospital visit and impending anaesthetic for both her and her tiny granddaughter. ‘Thank you for that. Saves me a few minutes while I shower and dress.’

Three hours later Emily put down the crossword. The surgery seemed to be taking for ever. The waiting-room magazines needed to be tossed into the bin and replaced. Still, Emily had flicked through them all. She’d chewed her nails down to the quick. Now she was onto the edge of her finger. Come on!

At ten-thirty the theatre doors swung open and Marco D’Arvello strode through them. It seemed his focussed glance searched until he found her sitting along the wall.

She bolted upright off her chair as if on a spring. In seconds he was at her side. ‘It is good. All went well.’

Emily sagged. Thank God. A strange buzzing began in her ears and her face felt funny, numb. The room began to tilt. His arms came up to steady her shoulders and he steered her back into a sitting position. His head dipped towards her with concern. ‘Sit. Not so fast. Have you eaten?’

‘What?’ The room stopped its slow turn and the humming noises in her ears faded away. She closed and opened her eyes slowly.

‘Emily? Have you eaten?’

His hands left her shoulders and she felt strangely bereft, almost tempted to catch them back. ‘Must have got up too fast.’

‘Si.’

Had she eaten? She couldn’t remember. ‘Um. Raisin toast three hours ago.’

‘Come. We will go for a cocoa and some more of your raisin toast before you drive home and go to bed. Annie is not yet awake but will be back in the ward in about thirty minutes. I will return with you then to see her.’

Now she felt silly. Imagine if she’d fainted at his feet. ‘I’m fine. Just stood too fast. I’m sure you have better things to do than drink cocoa with me.’

‘I cannot think of one.’ He shrugged with that Latin assurance Italian men seemed to have and her brain couldn’t function enough to think of a good excuse to decline. She had to admit the thought of not being alone for another thirty minutes was attractive.

He went on. ‘I believe the prognosis for both your Annie and our friend June’s babies has improved significantly. I can do no more for the moment.’ He searched her face and seemed satisfied. ‘Your colour has improved. But another half an hour of waiting without food will not help.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come.’

Bossy man. Though she was feeling better. ‘You say that a lot.’

He looked puzzled. ‘What is that?’

She dropped her chin and deepened her voice in imitation. ‘Come!’

He inclined his head. ‘I will attempt to refrain.’

They smiled at each other. Such quaint speech patterns and it seemed he could cope with teasing. Luckily. What had got into her? She picked up her bag and glanced at her watch.

‘Then thank you. A hot drink would be nice. I start to get cold when I need to sleep. Just twenty minutes and I’ll come back.’

‘Si. Your daughter should be back in the ward soon after that.’

They turned a few heads when they walked into the tea shop in the hospital grounds. Or Marco did, Emily thought as necks swivelled. She didn’t actually know many of the staff, having worked in Maternity on nights most of her career, and not a frequent visitor to the kiosk either, but she’d bet someone would recognise them and spread the word.

This place was a minefield of gossip. Another reason she preferred nights.

There was Head of Surgery Finn Kennedy and Evie Lockheart, her friend she was to have coffee with later in the week with Lily. Evie was hospital royalty and heiress to the Lockheart fortune.

Evie and Finn sat, head to head, engrossed in a deep and meaningful conversation, and to her surprise Evie slid her hand across the table and gripped Finn’s hand. Emily couldn’t help wondering if something terrible had happened.

Evie’s father had been kind to her all those years ago when she’d been a sixteen-year-old mother of an ill prem baby, and he’d been the one who’d suggested she would make a great nurse. He’d even provided the reference needed to start work as an unskilled nurse assistant until she could manage the extra burden of study. She liked Evie.

Finn, she was just happy to stay out of his way. He was a grouch. The hospital’s most experienced surgeon, though rumours had begun to circulate that he suffered some kind of medical problem that was threatening his career.

Emily had enough on her plate. She didn’t want to get anywhere near more drama and she steered Marco to the furthest corner of the kiosk.

More heads swivelled their way and instead of ducking her head she lifted her chin and smiled and nodded back.

Maybe she was sick of being boring. Ungossipworthy. Now she was the mother of a pregnant teenager, cavorting with the new Italian O and G consultant, and flaunting it all in the daylight hours, she may as well hold her head up.

Something had changed her. Marco sensed the stiffening of her shoulders and resisted the sudden urge to take her elbow. Surely she was used to people admiring her? Even bruised around the eyes from lack of sleep, she was a stunning woman.

He’d thought her attractive yesterday, but seeing her this morning when he’d left Theatre, she’d reminded him of a fragile Madonna and a strange urge to protect her had welled uncomfortably in his throat. A sudden desire to cradle her worried face in his hands and reassure her.

No doubt she would have something to say about him trying that and he shook off the uneasiness that feeling left him with. She stopped at a table that couldn’t be described as secluded but it seemed it would do. Marco pulled out her chair.

‘You are smiling? Something amuses you?’

‘Gossip.’

He glanced around. ‘In a hospital as large as this?’

‘Especially in this hospital.’ She followed his gaze. Tried not to look at Evie and Finn. ‘I hate gossip. It lives and breathes other people’s business. And here I am with the handsome Italian doctor who has operated on my daughter. I’m never seen with anyone.’

‘At least you notice something about me.’

‘You’re a bit hard to miss.’

He looked around. ‘I too despise gossip.’ The memories tasted bitter in his mouth.

Emily heard the underlying resentment and wondered where that had come from. The waitress arrived as soon as they’d picked up the menu and Emily put it down again and smiled at the girl. ‘We’ve only twenty minutes. Should we order food?’

‘Sure. Promise I’ll be quick. What would you like?’

She looked at Marco. ‘Scones and cream?’

Marco smiled at the young girl and she blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. ‘One hot chocolate, one coffee black, and two scones and cream. Per favore.’ The girl nodded and sped off.

Well, that was that. She studied his face. He didn’t look tired. So maybe he really did manage on four hours’ sleep. She was beginning to droop. She stifled a yawn. ‘So tell me how it went.’

‘Very well. No complications. A simple scope and shunt away from the narrowed opening into the bladder. Initial ultrasound shows good drainage into the bladder already.’

‘Do you think my granddaughter’s kidneys will be very damaged?’

His face softened and he reached across to touch her hand. Just that one stroke made her feel better. Comforted. His hand moved back. ‘This I cannot tell. We will hope not.’

What did she expect? How could he know that? She just wanted reassurance but wisely he had promised nothing he couldn’t give. Still, she appreciated his empathy. He was a kind man.

The hot drinks and scones arrived and they both smiled at the waitress. ‘So quick. Grazie.’

‘Wow.’ Emily too was impressed. ‘Thank you.’ The girl grinned and hurried off and almost bumped into Finn, who stood suddenly from his chair, almost knocking it over.

He growled something at their waitress and shook off Evie’s hand before he stormed towards the door. Evie’s face looked white and drawn and Emily looked away. Maybe she could catch up with Evie later. Check she was okay. There was no doubt she was in love with the man who had just left her and Emily felt her heart go out to the younger woman. She’d picked a hard road there.

‘It seems our surgical chief is not happy.’ Marco too had seen.

She refocussed on the man beside her. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Finn. We met in the States a few years ago. Got on well.’

Of course Marco would know him. They were both surgeons. She spread cream on the scone and then dropped a dollop of jam in the middle. ‘Evie’s tough. If anyone can bounce back from Finn’s ill humour, Evie can.’

‘And who is she?’

‘A medical officer here, a darned good one, but she’s more than that. Her father’s the hospital’s main benefactor, and the reason Sydney Harbour has so many ground-breaking programs.’

‘Lockheart?’

‘Yes. If rumour is to be believed, she and Finn have an on-again, off-again relationship that sometimes rattles the windows around here. But if I needed medical help, either of them would do fine by me.’

And you would do fine by me, he thought, and the premonition that this woman could rock his stable skim-the-surface world seeped into his bones with a wary premonition. ‘I realise you have a lot on your mind but have you thought about dinner this evening?’

‘No.’ Not much anyway. ‘I really can’t think of anything until after I see Annie.’

‘Of course. Forgive me.’ He was not usually this impatient.

They sipped their drinks and the silence became a little strained. She broke it. ‘So how long are you here? At Sydney Harbour?’

‘A month. Then I fly out to the US for a consultancy in New York. Last month it was London.’

She sipped her cocoa and the heat seeped into her cold edges. His life sounded a little on the cool side too.

Suddenly she wasn’t hungry. ‘It sounds a glamorous life.’ The creamy scone stared back at her. Like a red eye. She bet she had red eyes. Why on earth had this man asked her to breakfast? Kindness. That was all. Now she just needed to accept the favour and move on.

‘Si. Glamorous.’ He picked up his coffee and took a sip.

‘So where is home?’ At his frown she tried again. ‘Your family.’

His expression didn’t change but she felt stillness come over him. And the temperature dropped another two degrees. So he didn’t like questions. ‘I have no family. I rent when I need. Mostly I work.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’ She glanced at her watch and took another sip of her cocoa. ‘I might see if Annie is back.’

He’d been abrupt. Closed her out like he always did when people asked about his family. No wonder she wanted to leave. What did he expect to happen? He never answered questions about himself. He’d learnt at a very young age when the police were eager for any news of his father. When neighbours had shunned his family as soon as they’d realised who they were.

But this woman would never do that. The voice came from nowhere. Just a whisper, like she’d whispered yesterday to his thoughts, and he closed his ears.

‘I apologise.’ He glanced down at her uneaten scone. ‘Your food.’

‘I’m not really hungry.’ She yawned. ‘Excuse me.’ He wanted to pick her up and carry her to a big feather bed and tuck her in to sleep. Or not to sleep.

He glanced around for the waitress and managed to catch her eye. She nodded and started their way.

‘We will go. See if Annie is back on the ward and then you must go home to bed.’ There was that thought again. Emily in bed. He dragged his mind away from her golden bob of hair lying next to his on the pillow.

She dug into her bag for her wallet and he shook his head. ‘Please. Allow me.’ He laid a note on the table and stood up to help pull out her chair. The waitress arrived and he smiled and gestured with his hand that she keep the change.

Emily stood and he followed her out of the kiosk back towards the wards. He wanted to ask if she would come with him tonight but he would not ask again. Perhaps after she’d seen her daughter he would know.

CHAPTER THREE

‘HI, MA,’ Annie whispered sleepily. ‘They said my baby’s fine.’ She lay in a twin-bed room and the other stood turned back, waiting for June to return to the ward. ‘I’m gonna call her Rosebud.’

Emily ached with the thick swell of love in her throat. At the moment her daughter could call her daughter Medusa and she wouldn’t mind. She was just glad Annie and her baby were okay. It was hard to realise her own baby was growing up. She didn’t want to think about the time when she left her completely. And her little gnome granddaughter was safe from further harm too. ‘That’s wonderful, darling.’ She squeezed the pale fingers on the sheet and stared mistily down at her daughter.

‘It all went very well, Annie.’ Marco’s deep voice rumbled in her ear and his presence felt like a man they’d known a lot longer than twenty-four hours.

Emily stepped back to think about that, but he must have stepped forward at the same time.

His hands came up to rest on her shoulders and her shoulders fitted snugly up against a wall of chest she’d only dreamed about. It felt too good to move but Emily’s attention flew to her daughter. Thankfully Annie’s long lashes rested on her pale cheeks as she drifted in a post-anaesthetic haze and she couldn’t see her mother’s weakness.

From the pillow Annie’s eyelids didn’t flicker as her voice faded away. ‘Thank you, Marco.’ In her semi-doze Annie’s palm slid across the sheet to protect the small mound of her stomach and Emily let herself relax for a moment.

Just enjoy the sensation of being held.

Take the comfort he was no doubt offering. She hadn’t had a lot of that lately. Especially since Gran had died.

But this was different from Gran’s gentle love. This was a virulent, protector of a man saying he was there for her, if only for the duration of her daughter’s recovery, and she’d be a fool to not accept it for what it was. She didn’t want to think about how some women had this twenty-four seven. It felt too damn good.

But it wasn’t reality. She stepped away. ‘I’ll visit this afternoon, darling.’

Annie opened her eyes. ‘Um. No. Don’t. I’m just gonna sleep. See me tomorrow, Mum. Have a rest.’

Emily winced. ‘If that’s what you want.’ She chewed her lip. ‘You sure? I’ll have my phone. Just leave a message on my phone and I’ll come in.’

Annie nodded sleepily. ‘Tomorrow. Love you.’

‘Love you, baby.’ She hesitated. Watched her daughter sink into a heavier sleep.

Marco steered her towards the door. ‘Come.’

She flicked a glance at him and he grinned. ‘I do not know another word. Leave does not seem to work the same.’

She smiled back. ‘Come is fine.’

‘Then—’ he deepened his voice to a tease ‘—come.’ They grinned at each other. ‘She looks well, your Annie, and we can hope not too much damage is done. But for now, sleepyhead, are you going to go home to worry?’

‘No. I don’t think I will.’ She’d try not to and think about leaning back into Marco’s arms. ‘I think I’ll sleep well.’

‘Good.’

Then she thought of tonight, of the empty house. Of waking this afternoon after the four hours’ sleep she never seemed to be able to improve on, and wondering what it would have been like to go out with this handsome man, do something that would take her mind off the worry. Or she could sit at home and think about Annie. And maybe one day she could go on a dinner cruise on Sydney harbour on her own.

‘I’m wondering …’ She hesitated but he’d stopped and his attention was fully on her. ‘Um. Dinner. What time?’

She had to guess he hadn’t found anyone between hot chocolate and now.

So that was how she came to be dressed, waiting, scanning herself in the mirror. Wondering if the top was too old, should she wear a scarf? Could she still walk in high heels—it had been so long!

The doorbell drilled her like a cold knife and she glared at the mirror. Nerves. She was a big girl, dump the nerves, put on the smile and let the man take you out. You know you fancy him and he’s only here for a month.

This would be good practice for the time when Annie left for her own life. He’d said he’d pick her up so he had a car, must have hired one if he was only here for a month. She kept coming back to that. Just a month. Too short to lose her heart. She hoped.

She peeked out from behind the lace curtain. She hadn’t expected an Aston Martin. Or the open-necked black shirt. He was standing at the door. Looking around. Waiting for her to answer, and she was watching him with nerves flapping like pelicans in her belly.

Marco breathed in. Was unexpectedly aware of the late afternoon light, as if he should remember this moment. The slosh of waves and chug of boats on the harbour a few houses away. The tang of salt and seaweed.

The drift of voices from homes close to Emily’s. People who saw this woman every day. Probably had for years. How could she still be alone? How had some man not scooped her up and carried her and her daughter off?

When would she answer this door? He checked the number again just as the door opened.

His breath was expelled in a sigh. A woman with such style. ‘Bellísima.’ Every time he saw her she captured more of his attention. Appeared more exquisite.

‘Thank you. Come through.’ She gestured to the quaint sitting area with the carved wooden archway between the rooms.

Emily smoothed her coral skirt, willing the heat in her cheeks to subside as she invited him in. He looked pretty hot himself in immaculate black trousers and a silk shirt that screamed Italian tailor.

If he only knew. She didn’t spend money on clothes. Only the occasional piece of underwear she still felt guilty about and hid from her daughter. Gran’s skirt and antique lace blouse, even her lovely silver dancing shoes were sixty years old but fitted perfectly. She’d always been Gran’s size since she’d had Annie.

Sixteen years the same size. Except for the last few months when the one loving person in her life had faded away to a wisp of her former self.

‘The boat leaves at six. Forgive me if I rush you but it is to catch the sunset on the water.’

Not the time for sad memories.

Tonight she would embrace life and a handsome man.

She’d forgotten how good it felt to dress up and see her escort light up when he saw her. See his eyes smoulder, sweep over her, want her. Not that she was thinking that. But sixteen years was too long between attempted seductions so it would be nice to see if she still had feminine wiles.

He was waiting. ‘I’ll just get my purse.’ She leant past him to the hall table and picked up her filmy wrap as well as her tiny clutch. ‘A night on the harbour is worth the rush.’

He stepped forward and took the wrap from her hands. ‘Allow me,’he said, and spread the floating silk over her shoulders. She tried not to shiver with the sensation. ‘My car is downstairs.’ She focussed on transport—much safer.

‘Is it worth having a car when you work such long hours?’ She was still gabbling as she pulled the door shut after him.

‘Si.’ He waited for her to precede him down the steps and she could feel his presence solid behind her. It felt strange, to say the least. She felt strange. Like a teen. She really did need to get out more.

‘I have rented an apartment across the bay near the clown’s face and I am often called in.’

‘Of course.’ Not tonight, she hoped.

‘Not tonight, though.’

She smiled as he answered her thought and glanced towards the harbour. Imagining the bright mouth of the amusement-park entrance. ‘So you’re near Luna Park. Do you look down on it? Can you hear the children screaming on the rides?’

Gran used to take her and Annie. For a few years it had been sadly neglected but she’d heard it had been renovated and new life breathed into the attractions.

‘A little. It makes me smile. But my windows face mainly across the harbour and the bridge. The view is as good as anywhere I have travelled.’

‘You could have caught the ferry from Milson’s Point to me here. Just get off at Balmain East.’

‘Si. Perhaps another day. But tonight I prefer the privacy of my own vehicle.’

He unlocked the car and waited for her to sit with her skirt straightened before he closed the door. Within seconds he was slipping in beside her and suddenly the car shrank to a tiny womb of warm air imbued with a faint tang of his aftershave.

She was really here. In a car with a gorgeous Italian man intent on sharing the evening with her. He’d said he only wanted her company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out with a man and felt like this.

Gran and her knitting buddies had nudged her into a movie or two with men she’d met but each time they’d withdrawn when they’d realised how much time she needed to spend with Annie.

He gestured to the houses and trees around her home. ‘You must love living here.’

‘Yep. I walk around the bay to catch a ferry to the city on my days off. Or just walk around the harbour.’

He leaned forward and started the engine. ‘Your harbour is incredible but I probably see more of it from the hospital windows.’ He shrugged those lovely shoulders of his and she tried not to stare. ‘Except at night before sleep.’

She didn’t want to think of Marco sleeping, or maybe she did, because the picture came anyway. Black boxers? Or those hipster undies the male models wore that clung. Also in black. No shirt. Silk sheets. Stretched out across the mattress. Whoa.

What on earth had they been talking about before her mind had gone AWOL? View watching? ‘Perhaps you should do less work hours.’

He grinned at her. All white teeth and vibrant male who scorned the thought of taking things easy. ‘For what reason? I like to give my job everything.’

‘Um. Life just might speed by.’

He glanced at her as they waited to turn onto a busy road. ‘Has life sped by for you, Emily?’

‘I’m thinking the last sixteen years have.’ She loved the way he drawled her name. Emerrrleee.

The way it rolled from his lips with that sexy undertone. She’d never really felt she’d arrived in the sexy department but, hey, there was a first for everything, and Gran’s blouse was firm across her breasts. Must be why she was so conscious of her curves tonight.