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      “Oh...” She nodded. “You mean a fish stick.”

      The wrinkles grew even deeper. “A fish stick? What’s a stick about it? It’s a rectangle.”

      She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what’s a finger about it?”

      He waved his hand in mock exasperation. “You Americans.”

      “You Scots,” she countered just as quickly.

      “Is this what we’re going to do?” He couldn’t help himself. He lowered his voice. The look she gave him through her thick lashes sent tingles across his skin.

      “What do you mean?”

      He gestured to the table. “Eat food and argue about words. We’re starting to be a habit.”

      She glanced at her watch. “A habit? After less than twenty-four hours? Has to be a new world record.”

      He leaned his head on his hand. He really should go back in to the auditorium and listen to some of the other talks. He should be thinking about his career, and be circulating and making contacts the way he’d failed to last night. But somehow, like last night, the only contact he was interested in making was right in front of him.

      Three days in Hawaii. That was how long he planned to be here. He could easily lose himself in three days with a woman like Amber Berkeley. She was smart. She was fun. And he could sense the spark between them.

      In a way he was glad nothing had happened last night. It meant their flirtation could happily continue and he could find out a little bit more about her. All within the confines of the conference. Whether they attended any more talks or not was entirely a different story.

      As for her No Docs rule? Rules were made to be broken. And they didn’t work together—never would. Maybe she could be persuaded to spend some more time together. His stomach gave the weirdest little lurch. He couldn’t believe he’d actually just thought like that.

      He’d imagined landing in Hawaii to scorching sun, colorful flowers and interesting birds and wildlife. That was the picture he’d always had in his head.

      He’d lived so long in his own little bubble that finding someone to exchange anything other than clinical findings with was odd. But odd in a good way.

      He looked her straight in the eye. “You’ve never just met someone and clicked?”

      She blinked for a second as if she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Is this a trick question?”

      He shook his head. “What? No.”

      Then she tapped her fingers on the table slowly. “Okay, since you found out my name, did you look me up online?” She looked a little anxious.

      He shook his head again. He was getting more confused by the second. “No. Why, should I?”

      She hesitated for a few seconds then rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “There’s no point hiding it. If you search up my name you’ll find the whole news headlines. A very long time ago, when social media was a mere babe, and I was working as an intern, I met a fellow medic.” She lifted her fingers. “And I clicked.”

      He folded his arms across his chest. “You clicked? Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. What happened to the No Doctors rule?”

      She sighed. “Let’s just say this was a huge contribution to the No Doctors rule.”

      “Tell me more.”

      She gave a slow rueful nod and held up her hands. He couldn’t quite work out the expression on her face; it was a mixture of sad, exasperated and just...tired. “I was duped, I admit it. Or I was charmed.”

      “How charmed?” He was definitely curious. Amber didn’t seem like the kind of girl to be either duped or charmed. Maybe there was a reason for the slightly brash exterior?

      “Charmed enough to plan a wedding.” She stopped for a second. “My father was a very accomplished surgeon, notorious for only picking the best of the best for his residents. He was also notoriously sexist. There were no women on his team. Charles used me, to get to him.” The words were matter-of-fact, but the way that she said them wasn’t.

      “He did?” Jack couldn’t help the wave of disgust that swept over him and the way his heart twisted a little for her. “So what happened?”

      She shrugged. “I found out on the morning of the wedding via an overheard conversation in the local hairdresser that he’d been boasting about getting on my father’s team, and worming his way in through me.”

      “I thought women were supposed to drink champagne on the morning of their wedding.”

      “Oh, I was drinking champagne as they pinned my hair up. I thought about it all the way home. I thought about it all the time I stepped into my dress and little things came into my head, like a giant jigsaw puzzle slotting into place. By the time I reached the church and saw him standing at the top of the aisle, the smug expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. I turned on my heels, picked up my dress and ran.”

      “You ran?” He couldn’t actually believe it.

      She gave a small nod. “Do an Internet search of Milwaukee Runaway Bride. That’s me.” A long slow breath hissed out from her lips. “Not really something I want to put on my résumé.” Her eyes looked up and met his. She gave a half shrug. “I hate the thought of people reading that about me online. It’s like a permanent stain on my character.”

      She put her hands up to her forehead as if it ached, closing her eyes for a second. It was obvious she found this hard.

      But she was being honest. He appreciated that. What would he have thought if he’d read this online? Probably, that she was a bit of an idiot, or that she was an attention seeker. Hearing it in person from her was an entirely different experience. He could tell that the whole experience had changed her.

      “Regrets?” The words were out before he really thought about them, but Amber quickly shook her head as she lifted it from her hands.

      “No. My father never spoke to me again. Nor did Charles. But then again, Charles lost his job the next day.”

      “You never spoke to your father again?”

      She shook her head again but didn’t look sad. Her words were more assured. “No. I was the ultimate disappointment. But then again, no matter how well I did, I’d always known that.”

      He could almost see her physically bristle.

      “What kind of surgeon was he?”

      “Renal. Top of his game—until the day he died.”

      “He wasn’t proud that his daughter was a doctor too?”

      “Don’t think he even noticed.” Her answer was short and snappy. “Truth was, I wasn’t a boy. By the time I realized how little respect my father had for me, and my mother, I was done with him anyhow. He died a few years later and it actually set my mother free.”

      Jack was a little surprised at her words but at least now he had half an understanding about her No Doctor rule. Of course, it didn’t make sense. But in her head, it did.

      Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Let’s change the subject.” It was clear there was a lot more to this, but he could tell that she’d shared enough, and he respected her for that.

      Her blue eyes met his and she sat up a little straighter in her chair, tilting her head at him. It was like a shock wave. When the anger and resentment left her face, Amber Berkeley was stunning. “You said last night you should probably be schmoozing. You’re almost not in the army now. What’s your plans, soldier?”

      He raised his eyebrows. “Why, are you offering me a job?”

      She straightened her back and narrowed her gaze, imitating some kind of stern

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