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held an arm out, heavily scarred from numerous similar injections. ‘Bang it in there, Doc.’

      As Tom filled the syringe with vitamin K, he spoke to Jarrod. ‘Tell me why you were climbing a tree in icy conditions.’

      ‘Because it’s fun.’ Jarrod’s lips squeezed together and his eyes were slits, daring Tom to disagree with him.

      Fiona grinned. ‘Of course it is. Trees are made for boys to climb.’

      ‘See!’ Jarrod’s eyes lit up as he faced off Tom. ‘She understands, and she’s not a boy.’

      Tom shoved his hand across his scalp in a gesture so familiar Fiona’s stomach knotted. Except in the past his hair had been a tangle of curls. ‘I guess I have to agree about the fun.’

      ‘Girls like climbing trees, too. But you still have to be careful, Jarrod,’ Fiona admonished gently.

      ‘Yeah, I know, but I wanted to go higher than the others.’

      ‘And now you’ve got a broken arm. No doubt you’re in some pain as well,’ Tom noted.

      ‘It does hurt.’ Jarrod winced. ‘But it’s worth it. This is a cool place, and I’ve got new friends.’

      ‘That’s what this week’s all about,’ Tom smiled at the boy, genuine warmth lightening his eyes. Then he turned to her. ‘When did you last plaster an arm?’

      ‘Probably when I was an intern.’ Was this a small olive branch? Working together on Jarrod’s arm?

      Tom manoeuvred Jarrod through the door and into a smaller room. ‘What do you reckon, Jarrod? Should we let Dr Fraser loose on you?’

      ‘Yeah. Can I write on the arm so she gets the right one?’ Jarrod dragged up a cheeky grin, but his pale cheeks showed he was tiring.

      ‘How about I plaster your mouth and keep you quiet for a while?’ Fiona winked at the boy.

      ‘Mum would love that.’

      ‘Okay, let’s get this done. Fiona, I’ll hold the arm if you want to start.’ Tom nodded to the tape waiting on a benchtop.

      Jarrod’s arm was soon in a cast and resting in a sling.

      ‘You be careful with that, young man.’ Tom sounded stern. ‘Don’t go hitting any of your new mates over their heads with it. I don’t want to find I’m stitching up skull wounds all week.’

      Fiona grinned. Her tension had slipped away while they’d worked together. It felt good. There might be a lot of misunderstanding between them, but at least they were on the same side when it came to their patient. And they’d communicated without words as she’d wound the wet tape around Jarrod’s arm. So, they hadn’t lost everything that had been good between them. But was it enough to find their way back to a point where they could really discuss the past and lay it to rest for ever?

      * * *

      Tom explained everything to Jarrod’s parents when they arrived moments later, anxious and dishevelled. After hugs and affectionate growls at their son, they led a chastened Jarrod away to his room, and Tom turned to Fiona.

      ‘Come on. I’ll show you your accommodation. Then we can grab that cup of tea before your first appointment.’ He slung her pack over his shoulder and took her elbow. Instantly he knew he’d made a mistake. To hold her, no matter how lightly, zapped his brain, befuddled him completely. But she’d looked so lost that he’d had to take hold of her and lead her along. He’d acted without thought. The desire to help her was an integral part of him and had been from the day he’d first set eyes on her in the paediatric ward of Auckland Hospital.

      He kept his hand on her elbow. He could still be professional and hold her like this. Yeah, right. So much for his self-control.

      ‘The tea sounds wonderful,’ Fiona murmured.

      Her honeyed voice sent memories clawing through his mind. Memories that slammed through his body and lifted goosebumps on his skin. Memories that dredged up confusion and nostalgia. Heat and fire.

      His reaction to her shocked him. He’d schooled his mind to accept her coming to Hanmer Springs. He hadn’t thought it would be too hard to keep her at arm’s length. He’d tried to convince himself that he was so over her that she could dance naked in front of him and he’d turn away.

      ‘Liar.’ He’d never be able to do that.

      ‘What?’ Fiona asked.

      ‘You caught me talking to myself.’ He’d made a mistake earlier when he’d called her Fi. His stomach clenched in a spasm. Don’t start thinking of her as Fi. That was a sure-fire way of getting entangled in emotions he didn’t want to face. He had loved her deeply, and some of those feelings still existed, pulling him to her even as he grappled with her presence. Did she know how shaken he felt by her appearance? He desperately hoped not. She must not know she still had the power to unnerve him. Ever since he’d learned that Jerome’s replacement was none other than Fiona he’d felt antsy, as if something he didn’t want to deal with was about to slap him across the face, and if anyone could make him face up to whatever that was, Fiona could.

      He headed out into the corridor and strove for a neutral subject to talk about. ‘I take it from what you said you haven’t done much flying lately?’

      ‘I’ve kept current, but that’s about all. Hiring a plane isn’t always easy in some of the countries I’ve been to.’ She shivered, as though she had a chill, and hugged herself tight.

      ‘Look at you. You’re freezing.’ The building felt very snug to him. ‘We’ve got heat pumps everywhere.’

      Her eyes rolled. ‘It’s not exactly the middle of summer in here.’

      ‘How long have you been back from Pakistan?’ He still had trouble believing she’d worked there. But according to her CV that wasn’t the only part of the world she’d been to.

      ‘I spent nearly a month in Australia with Dad, then came home a few days ago.’

      ‘All that heat? Those flies? I am finding it hard to imagine you in those conditions.’

      That stung her. He saw it in the clenching of her hands, in the widening of her eyes and the tightening of her mouth. Unwittingly he’d insulted her.

      Remorse mingled with curiosity within him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I seem to be overreacting to everything you say.’

      Her reply was quiet, thoughtful. ‘I can understand your sentiments. I’d have said the same thing a few years ago, but believe it or not, I’ve changed.’ She hesitated, as though wondering how much to say.

      ‘Tell me more.’ He found he really did want to know all about her, and not because he needed the distraction. Where had she spent the years since they’d separated? Who had she worked for? How had she coped with her grief?

      Her chin lifted and her shoulders tugged back, in that endearing manner of hers. ‘You’ve seen my credentials. I’ve worked in various countries where people have nothing but a tin roof over their heads. Mostly doing skin grafts over burns, repairing scars—anything to make their lives a little less horrific.’

      ‘Fi, it’s fantastic, but you have to admit you had no intention of doing anything like that when you were still specialising.’ Damn it, he’d used the Fi word again. But again she’d surprised him. Leopards didn’t change their spots. Neither would Fiona go to live in some of the most uncomfortable locations in the world. Not unless she took a jumbo jet full of luxuries to keep her happy.

      Wait up. He wasn’t giving her a chance. Already he’d noticed small changes in her. Mostly physical ones, true. And in the kind of clothes she now wore. She also seemed a lot calmer than she’d used to be. So what was to say she hadn’t changed majorly in her attitude to life? She’d certainly had plenty of reasons to. If she had, he could only admire her for it. And wonder

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