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had spent too long getting him out of her head and her heart.

      Sara looked at him, and even through her tired eyes she could see the man who won her love was still as handsome and charismatic as ever. It’s four short weeks. It can’t be that difficult.

      ‘I’m a little tired—can we discuss the work schedule later? We can sort out the personal arrangements too over the next few days. I’m happy with the financial separation the way it is. It won’t change after we divorce. You won’t need to support me, so it should be done very quickly.’

      There was an uncomfortable silence between them. She had no idea what was going on in Tom’s mind but he clearly wasn’t about to share anything. She had said her piece and cleared the air.

      ‘Quick and painless, like an extraction of an upper molar,’ he said matter-of-factly.

      Sara knew when Tom became uncomfortable he always used dark humour. It was how he masked his emotions.

      ‘Not quite,’ she replied, then chose to change the subject. ‘After the four weeks here, I’m off. I don’t know a lot about Texas but the position sounded exciting and I jumped at it,’ she told him as she crossed to one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that lined the room. Part of her didn’t want to go to the US. Part of her still wanted Tom. But she also wanted more.

      Sara lightly ran her fingers over a row of leather-bound medical books standing next to one another on the shelf and thought back to all of the nights she had spent poring over books just like them as a postgraduate student at the university library, hoping to come close to Tom’s knowledge and skill. But it wasn’t just his ability and compassion as a doctor that had her in awe, it was his commanding presence as a man that had drawn her to him. He had been her lecturer and her mentor but more than that, she had wished he was her lover.

      She had felt on some level there was chemistry that ran between them. She would watch him standing at the lectern, speaking to all the medical students, and she had hoped, as his eyes had scanned the lecture hall, that he had seen her as more than just his student. She had wanted him to see her as a woman. A woman who respected his knowledge, admired his skills but wanted to know more about him as a man.

      Sara would daydream in the tram on the way home, a bag full of handwritten notes at her feet and a laptop in her backpack, about the two of them driving home together. She had pictured them talking about their days, comparing notes on cases and discussing surgical procedures. Sara remembered back to the long nights when she would lie in twisted sheets staring at the ceiling in the darkness of her university bedroom. She would picture the curves of his handsome face, the skin wrinkling softly around his grey eyes when he laughed, and the warm, masculine scent of his body.

      Not being able to say how she felt during those many months of study was at times almost impossible. But she knew better than to say anything to her incredibly handsome tutor. It was more than likely that her romantic musings were one-sided. She didn’t want her imagination to steer her into attracting more of his attention. He was almost seven years older, infinitely wiser and often intimidating. And she was his student. Capable and willing to learn, passing with distinctions, but still his student.

      She thought he would be more interested in dating one of his peers, yet there were moments when she felt there was something more. She would ask a question, or answer one that he had posed, and he would appear genuinely impressed.

      There were times when his eyes seemed to linger on her a little longer. His mouth would curve ever so slightly and his eyes seemed to be smiling. Her heart would skip a beat, and she hoped she didn’t blush. Sometimes he would ask her to stay late with a small number of postgraduates to discuss a topic or alternate prognosis in greater depths. On more than one occasion he bumped into her in the university cafeteria and they shared a table and talked of things other than work.

      She wanted more than anything for his interest to be more than just academic, and these chats led her to believe it was, but he was a complicated man. She decided that until her training was over and he made his feelings clear she would keep her own locked safely inside her heart.

      Sara never regretted that decision. Soon after she graduated and found a role in a private practice based in Brighton, Tom invited her to a celebratory dinner. She was so surprised and happy. It was a dinner for two. Standing at the door of the restaurant as they waited for their table, his soft hands cupped her face and gently turned her towards him. Tenderly, he reached down and kissed her.

      It took Sara’s breath away. Her intuition about his feelings had been right all along. The man of her dreams, of all her late-night fantasies, was kissing her. And not caring who saw them.

      She remembered every wonderful warm feeling that rushed through her body when, with love in his eyes and a wicked grin, he whispered huskily that given the chance he would never let her out of his sight again. He told her he wanted to keep her in his arms for ever.

      It was a whirlwind romance. Every second weekend they spent away at different cosy bed and breakfasts all over Victoria and then, three months after their first date, Tom surprised Sara with a trip to Paris. Winter had set in and they had planned on heading to the ski slopes of Mount Hotham. The night before they were due to leave for the snow, sitting by the heater in Sara’s apartment eating raisin toast and sipping on hot chocolate, Tom told Sara there was a slight change in plans but one he hoped she would like. He suggested that she should pack some summer clothes and her passport instead of thermal underwear. As Sara frantically emptied her suitcase of her sweaters, ski pants and thick socks, hurriedly replacing them with cotton dresses, shorts and T-shirts, she told him that he was crazy.

      And he told her that he loved her.

      Tom managed to keep the new holiday destination a secret until the cab arrived at Tullamarine airport and he carried their luggage to the Air France check-in. Sara was so excited that she felt her eyes brimming with tears as she took her boarding pass, destination Paris.

      Together, they spent a blissful week at Hotel Mansart on Paris’s Right Bank. They strolled hand in hand around the Tuileries Garden and along the pathways lined with tulips. Tom was the most romantic, wonderful lover and Sara knew without doubt that she was totally and completely in love. She couldn’t help but smile with happiness as they sat together by the sparkling pools in the warmth of a perfect summer day. A perfect day with her perfect man and Sara thought life couldn’t be any more wonderful.

      But it could. And a short time later it did. As they stood admiring the Maillol sculptures in the soft light of sunset, Tom fell to one knee and slipped a diamond solitaire ring on Sara’s finger. She gasped and nodded before she kissed the man of her dreams and fell into his arms. She knew with all of her heart it was where she belonged.

      After years of study to qualify as an oral and maxillofacial surgeon, Sara was twenty-eight years of age and Tom was about to turn thirty-five so they decided to have a very short engagement and that night as they lay in each other’s arms they set a wedding date only three months away.

      Sara was going to spend her life with a man she completely and utterly adored and she had never been so happy in her life...

      ‘Sara. Yoo-hoo, I asked you when exactly you’re leaving for cattle country?’

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