Kitabı oku: «The Honourable Army Doc»
EMILY FORBES began her writing life as a partnership between two sisters who are both passionate bibliophiles. As a team, ‘Emily’ had ten books published.
While Emily’s love of writing remains as strong as ever, the demands of life with young families have recently made it difficult to work on stories together. But rather than give up her dream Emily now writes solo. The challenges may be different, but the reward of having a book published is still as sweet as ever.
Whether as a team or as an individual, Emily hopes to keep bringing stories to her readers. Her inspiration comes from everywhere, and stories she hears while travelling, at mothers’ lunches, in the media and in her other career as a physiotherapist all get embellished with a large dose of imagination until they develop a life of their own. Emily Forbes won a 2013 Australia Romantic Book of the Year Award for her title Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist.
If you would like to get in touch with Emily you can e-mail her at emilyforbes@internode.on.net
Dear Reader
Thank you for picking up my latest book. The idea for this story came from an article I read about people who choose to care for ex-spouses who are battling severe and sometimes terminal illnesses. I began to wonder what sort of person would offer to do that. They would have to be selfless and compassionate and, although most of the carers in the story were women, once Quinn came into my head that was it—the story started with him.
He is a gorgeous man—loyal, kind and generous (with amazing blue eyes!). He cares for and respects women, and is just the sort of man Ali needs. She is attracted to his strength of character, his kindness and his sense of moral justice. All he needs to do is convince her that she’s the perfect woman for him.
Enjoy!
Emily
The Honourable Army Doc
Emily Forbes
MILLS & BOON
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For my brother, James, who is a lot like Quinn— gentle, kind, respectful of women and a fabulous father.
Growing up with three older sisters can’t always have been easy but you’ve turned out pretty well!
Love you xx
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
Quinn
QUINN DANIELS FINISHED his drink and signalled to the barman for another. His second Scotch would have to be his last for the evening, he was a keynote speaker at the weekend medical conference and his address was on tomorrow’s agenda. He needed to keep a clear head.
He waited at the bar, keeping himself a little separate from the rest of the crowd. He let the conversations flow around him, not shutting them out but not totally absorbing them either. They were background noise as he let his attention wander over the room. The bar was in a conference room that was doing double duty as the cocktail reception area and the usual nondescript décor, seen in large hotels the world over, meant he could have been anywhere, but to Quinn’s eyes it was the crowd that told him he was home. The room was only half-full but already there were more women in the space than he had seen for a long time. His gaze wandered, watching more out of habit than with any real purpose. He was still getting used to being in the company of women, women who weren’t off limits.
After his second tour of duty in Afghanistan he was still acclimatising to Western life. The Scotch in his hand and the women in the crowd were only two of many differences. But it was enough to change the atmosphere. The sounds were different—the men’s voices provided a bass accompaniment to the higher-pitched and slightly louder female voices, and the air smelt different too. It smelt of women—perfume and soap, hairspray and make-up—and the room certainly looked different. In Afghanistan he and everyone else had spent most of their time in uniform. There weren’t many occasions to dress up but tonight he was surrounded by men wearing suits and ties and women in cocktail dresses. There was plenty of black and a lot less khaki.
A splash of red caught his eye. In a room of predominantly dark colours the red dress burned like fire, casting a warm glow over everything nearby and drawing his eye. The dress was draped around the most beautiful woman he had seen in a very long time. The dress began over one smooth, tanned shoulder and wrapped across rounded breasts then pulled in firmly at the waist before flaring out and falling to her knees. Her arms were long and slender. So were her legs. She was showing far less skin than a lot of other women in the room but Quinn let his imagination picture what lay beneath the gauzy fabric. She wore her dark hair long and it flowed over her shoulders, gleaming as it reflected the light. Her lips were painted a glossy red to match her dress and the brightness of her mouth stood out in sharp contrast to her olive skin and raven hair. Her colouring was exotic, she was exquisite, and he wondered who she was.
She had paused in the doorway as she surveyed the room. He held his breath as he watched her, waiting to see if she found whoever it was she was looking for. He waited to see where she was heading.
She had perfect posture and a long, slender neck. She looked serene, elegant. Her head turned towards the bar as she scanned the room. Her eyes met his and Quinn felt his stomach and groin tighten as a burning arrow of desire shot through him.
Desire. It was an emotion he’d thought long forgotten and the strength of it took him by surprise. His heart rate increased as blood raced around his body, bringing him to life.
Did she hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary? He knew he wished it were true but as her gaze moved on he knew it was more than likely his imagination.
He waited, hoping she wouldn’t find who she was looking for. Wishing she was looking for him.
She stepped into the room and moved gracefully across the floor. Her steps were smooth and effortless and she seemed to glide through the crowd. He couldn’t stop watching. It wasn’t a case of wanting a second look. He was unable to tear his eyes away and that made it impossible to look twice. He appreciated the beauty of a female form and hers was better than most. Far better. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t stop.
She turned towards the bar. The bar was busy. It was early in the evening and people were still arriving and, for most, their first stop was the bar to fortify themselves as they prepared to mingle. He could see her looking for a spot to squeeze in. He moved a little to his left, creating a bigger space, a more obvious space, beside him as he willed her to accept his silent invitation. He hoped she would prefer to wait at the bar rather than in a queue.
He watched her gaze travel along the bar and find the gap. Saw her lift her eyes and felt his heartbeat quicken as her eyes met his again.
Her cherry-red lips parted in a smile, revealing perfect white teeth. His racing heart played leapfrog in his chest as her smile fanned the flames of desire still burning within him.
She took a few more steps, closing the distance between them, and slipped into the space beside him.
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was soft and sultry. It suited her. Her olive skin was smooth. Her grey eyes fringed by dark lashes. The colour of her eyes was unusual and not what he’d expected at all but it was her mouth that had him excited. Her lips were full, moist and red. Suddenly Quinn was very pleased to be home.
The bartender delivered his Scotch and he held up a hand, getting him to wait. ‘May I also have…?’ He looked to his left, offering to order.
‘A gin and tonic, with a slice of lime, please.’
The top of her head reached just past his chin and he could smell her shampoo or maybe her perfume. It was sweet but not cloying and reminded him of the gardenia hedge that had grown under his bedroom window in his childhood home. The room around him melted into the background. The conversation around him faded and became nothing but subsidiary noise. There was nothing else that could capture his attention.
But he’d learnt the hard way not to let attraction outweigh reason. He was still paying the price for that lesson. Not that he regretted the lesson. He couldn’t. That lesson had given him his daughters but there was no denying it had changed his life and now it was no longer his own. An occasional and very brief liaison was all he allowed himself now, just enough to satisfy a need but not long enough to allow any attachment. But it had been a long time since he’d felt desire.
Desire was dangerous. The way he felt right now he knew desire could outweigh reason. He knew he could lose himself in this woman.
Perhaps that would help to wipe away memories of Afghanistan. Perhaps it would help to bring him back to the present. He would still have the dreams but sex was always a good distraction. This woman might be the perfect solution. But sex to satisfy a need was one thing. Sex and desire was another combination altogether.
Ali had noticed him almost the moment she had entered the room. He had an interesting face but extraordinary eyes and it was his eyes that had made her look twice. He had maintained eye contact, almost daring her to look away first. And then he’d moved, just slightly, just enough to make space for her at the bar. Was it another challenge or was he being chivalrous? It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to linger alone, she didn’t want to look out of place or conspicuous, so she was grateful for his silent offer. She hesitated, only ever so slightly, before his eyes convinced her to accept his offer. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, so bright their colour was clear from metres away. Hypnotic. Mesmerising. She felt as though he’d cast some sort of spell over her until her feet moved, almost of their own accord, and carried her across the room and she found herself beside him, accepting his offer of a drink.
He was watching her intently, almost as though he was committing her features to memory, but his attention didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t intrusive; somehow he made it feel like flattery.
His confidence was attractive. Her own confidence had been shaken of late and her pulse quickened as she met his eyes. A sense of excitement raced through her as she looked into his eyes, so blue they appeared to be made from azure Cellophane, illuminated from behind. They were intense, compelling, captivating and she was riveted. The external borders of his irises were a darker blue and the change in colour reminded her of a tropical sea as it deepened and darkened as it left the white sands of the shore.
He handed her a tall, cold glass, its contents garnished with lime. ‘Will you let me keep you company while you wait for your friends?’ he asked as she thanked him for the drink.
‘How do you know I’m waiting?’
‘I saw you arrive,’ he replied. ‘You looked like you were meeting people but you also looked like you were the first one here.’
Somehow in a room rapidly filling with people they’d seen each other at the same instant. She wouldn’t call it fate, she had once been a big believer in fate, though she wasn’t so certain any more, but even she had to admit there was a nice symmetry to this chance meeting. She smiled. ‘One of my many bad habits, I confess. I’m always early.’
‘I can’t see how that’s a bad thing.’
‘It makes others feel guilty because they think they were late.’
‘Well, I hope they take their time.’ He smiled at her, bringing little laugh lines to the corners of his incredible blue eyes.
Was he flirting with her? She hoped so but she didn’t completely trust her judgement.
He extended his hand. ‘I’m Quinn Daniels.’
She knew who he was. Captain Quinn Daniels. She recognised his face, only from a photograph but that was enough. He was one of the conference keynote speakers. She planned to attend his session on infectious diseases and immunisation tomorrow. She knew from his short biography in the conference program that he was an army medic. An army captain. But the black and white head shot in the conference notes didn’t do him justice.
He was six feet, maybe six feet one, of solid muscle. He looked fit. His shoulders were broad and his arms filled out the sleeves of his suit jacket. She could see the muscle definition of his deltoids and biceps under his jacket and his pectoral muscles were firm against his shirt.
He wasn’t typically handsome; his face was broad, his blond hair cropped short, his jaw firm and cleanshaven, his chin strong. He was rugged rather than handsome but there was something about him that made it difficult for her to look away. It was more than just his eyes. It was something deeper, something powerful, something confident. He looked as though he could take care of himself and by association anyone else he chose to protect.
The bridge of his nose was slightly flattened, as if it had once been broken, but Ali sensed that if it had happened in a fight it had been the other guy who would have come off second best. But despite his size and the sense of strength she didn’t get a feeling of menace. She got a feeling of raw masculinity but not danger. He might not back down from a fight but she got the sense he wouldn’t start it. Although she was certain he would finish it. He wouldn’t stand by and watch. He would go to help.
He seemed strong. Interesting. He made her feel brave. She put her hand into his. ‘I’m Ali.’
His fingers closed around hers, his grip firm but gentle and sending an unexpected rush of excitement racing through her. She didn’t want to let go, it had been a long time since she’d been excited about anything.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ali,’ he said, and something in his tone made her believe he meant every word. ‘You’re a doctor?’ he asked. She nodded in reply. She didn’t think she could speak, not while he still had hold of her hand, her senses were overloaded. ‘Are you Brisbane based?’ he added as he released her hand.
Ali shook her head and found her voice. ‘No, I’m from Adelaide.’
‘Ah, I should have known.’
‘Why?’
‘South Australia has more than her fair share of beautiful women.’
He was definitely flirting.
‘Have you been to Adelaide?’ she asked, hoping that he had a legitimate reason for his flirtatious comment and that he wasn’t just spouting platitudes.
‘Many times,’ he replied. ‘Do you like living there?’
‘I do.’ Ali nodded. She loved her home town and although many of her friends had moved interstate she had never thought she’d prefer to live elsewhere. ‘But I must admit the opportunity to escape our winter and head north for some sunshine and the conference was too much for me to resist. I’m looking forward to hearing your address tomorrow.’
Quinn smiled. ‘You’re attending my session? You’re not going to ditch me in favour of lying by the pool and working on your tan?’
‘I try not to play hookey until the second day,’ she quipped before she sipped her drink, conscious of the fact she was flirting in return but surprisingly without apprehension.
His phone rang, interrupting the flow of their conversation. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Would you excuse me? I need to take this.’
She watched as he took two steps away from the bar. She wondered who it was. Wondered who had the power to make him search for privacy.
He paused and turned to face her again. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said, before leaving her to watch him walk away. As he left he took with him the air of excitement she’d experienced and the evening dimmed a little. She wondered if he would be back. She had no way of knowing.
Ali was enchanting. There was no denying she was beautiful but it was more than that. It was more than attraction, more than desire. There was a sense of grace about her that fascinated him, a calmness about her that drew him to her. He knew he needed calmness after his months in Afghanistan and he longed to stay at the bar and let her soft, sultry voice soothe his weary soul. While he listened to her he was able to breathe, to relax. He didn’t want to walk away but he couldn’t ignore this call. His family were more important to him than anything else. They would always take precedence.
‘I’ll be back,’ he told her. He wanted to ask her to wait but that would have been presumptuous. He told himself he would find her when he returned.
He moved away from the bar to answer the call, not because he didn’t want to be overheard but so he could ensure he could give his full attention to the call. He knew if he stayed beside Ali he would be distracted. He wanted to turn around, to retrace his footsteps, to return to her side, but duty came first. He had never shirked his responsibilities before and he couldn’t start now.
He answered the call but the voice on the other end of the line was unexpected. He had been expecting his daughters but instead he got his mother-in-law.
‘Helen? What is it? What’s the matter? Is it one of the girls?’ It was unusual for Helen to ring him. Their relationship was perfectly amicable but there was never a real reason for them to speak. His daughters kept him in the loop and anything important he would discuss with their mother. Helen could only be ringing with bad news.
Quinn kept walking out of the room and into the hotel lobby. He needed to get away from the bar, suspecting he would need some peace and quiet. His heart was lodged in his throat as he waited for the reply. His breathing laboured.
‘It’s Julieanne.’
His wife.
Ex-wife, he corrected automatically.
He was certain now the phone call was not good news but hearing that the call wasn’t about his daughters relaxed the muscles in his diaphragm and allowed him just enough air to speak. ‘What is it? Has there been an accident?’
‘No. It’s her headaches.’
Julieanne had always suffered from headaches and Quinn knew that of late her headaches had become more frequent and more severe. He’d asked her to speak to her doctor but Julieanne had been convinced that she could manage them by experimenting with her diet and exercise routine.
Helen continued and Quinn could hear her voice catch with emotion. ‘She had a seizure today.’
The last vestiges of calm that he’d felt when he’d been speaking with Ali vanished as Helen’s words forced their way into his head. He could almost feel his mind resisting her words. He didn’t want to hear this.
This is serious, he thought. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his brow with his free hand. This isn’t about diet and exercise. I should have insisted she see someone.
There was an ottoman in front of him, tucked into a corner of the lobby, and Quinn collapsed onto it, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and forced himself to take a deep breath.
‘Where is she? Tell me what happened.’
He listened as between Helen’s sobs she told him what had transpired. ‘We’re at the hospital now. The doctor has just come to speak to me. She has a brain tumour.’
A tumour.
The rest of the conversation was a blur as Quinn spoke first to Helen and then to the doctor. He forced himself to concentrate as they discussed Julieanne’s condition but he knew he’d only registered the basic facts and they were far from good.
When the conversation ended he stood up from the ottoman on shaky legs. His hands were shaking too as he pocketed his phone. He was struggling to breathe. He could feel his larynx spasm as he tried to relax his diaphragm and take a breath. He needed air. To his right was the hotel entrance. To his left was the conference room. He looked back towards the bar, back to the room where he had left Ali. But he couldn’t go back into the bar. Not yet. He needed fresh air.
He pushed open the hotel’s front door, not waiting for the doorman’s assistance. The hotel was built on the banks of the Brisbane River and Quinn crossed to the embankment in three long strides. He gripped the railings at the river’s edge, anchoring himself as he gulped the fresh, evening air and tried to make sense of the conversation he’d just had. But even as he was trying to get things straight in his head he knew there was no making sense of it. It was a horrible, unimaginable situation to be in.
He stared blankly into the depths of the dark water swirling below him. Growing up on the Sunshine Coast of Queensland, he’d always had an affinity for water and it was something else he’d missed while stationed in Afghanistan. Normally he found water soothing but tonight it wasn’t allaying his fears. It wasn’t soothing. It wasn’t calming. He’d been craving calm since his return from Afghanistan but now he couldn’t imagine things ever being calm again.
He had no idea how long he stood there, staring into the water, but gradually he became aware of people around him, couples and groups strolling along the pathway, giving him sideways glances as they passed by. He made himself relax his grip on the railing. Relax his shoulders. He knew he couldn’t stay outside hoping the water and fresh air would revive him. He didn’t have the luxury of time. He had things to do. He had plans to make. He had responsibilities.
He retraced his steps to the hotel. The doorman saw him coming and opened the door. Quinn nodded without really registering the service as he passed through. He headed for the bank of lifts adjacent to the conference room where he had been minutes before. He hesitated at the door, searching for a flash of red. His eyes ran along the length of the bar. Nothing. He scanned the room and found her.
He wished he could go in. He could do with some of the serenity that seemed to envelop her but she wasn’t alone. Her friends had arrived and she was gathered within their circle.
He wished he could go in but he had no right to interrupt her. No right to demand her attention. She didn’t need his problems. He had thought his life was complicated enough twenty minutes ago. If only he could have that life back. But in the space of twenty minutes his life had changed irrevocably. There was no going back.
He took one last look at Ali’s red lips and wished he could taste them. Just once. But he couldn’t go back. He could only go forward. He had to do what he had to do. His daughters would need him and, as always, he would put them first. He turned his back on the bar and headed for the lifts with heavy steps.
The lift doors closed, cutting him off from Ali, taking him out of her life.
Quinn took another deep breath as he prepared himself for what lay ahead. There was no time to think about anything else. There was no time for ifs, buts and maybes. There was only reality. His present no longer consisted of raven hair and cherry lips. His present consisted of responsibility and duty.