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I’m Dr Rachel Simmonds.’

      They swarmed her, two young women bringing their newborn babes for her to inspect. Rachel took each in turn to cuddle. Babies—who could resist them?

      Then a stunningly beautiful woman approached and spoke in a soft lilt. ‘Hello, I’m Manea, the midwife.’ After giving Rachel a welcoming embrace she said, ‘I’d like to talk to you about one of my patients.’

      In the little office off to the side of the ward Rachel listened while Manea explained her patient’s symptoms. ‘Kiriana is having her first baby at age thirty-five, which is very late for an islander. She’s been on the internet reading up about everything that can go wrong. And now she wants a whole battery of tests done that I can’t provide.’

      ‘This is when I dislike the net intensely. All it achieves is to cause more worry than a pregnant woman should have.’ Rachel read Kiriana’s notes. ‘Everything seems perfectly normal. No anaemia, no hepatitis, blood pressure’s good.’

      ‘Could you examine her?’ Manea asked. ‘It might settle her down to have a doctor taking her fears seriously. I’m the girl who grew up next door. Not likely to be totally convincing when it comes to persuading her everything’s going well.’

      ‘Can you arrange an appointment for her? Might as well see her as soon as possible. She hasn’t mentioned amniocentesis?’

      ‘Down’s syndrome is top of her list for things that can go wrong.’

      ‘It would be.’ Rachel sighed. People put themselves through untold worry at times. ‘I’ll see her as soon as she can come in.’

      They went on to discuss all Manea’s patients but the midwife had no other concerns. ‘Hopefully I won’t be bothering you too often,’ she said as she put the patient notes away in a filing cabinet. ‘But I’m thrilled to have an obstetrician to be able to call on if necessary. I bet the GPs are pleased too.’

      ‘I haven’t met them yet. I’ll drop into the medical centre some time over the next few days to make myself known.’

      Colleen piped up. ‘All sorted. You’re to go on Thursday afternoon.’

      Rachel started. ‘Thanks for that.’

      Colleen glanced at her watch. ‘Right now you’ve got a patient waiting to see you.’

      ‘Already?’ They certainly weren’t giving her time to settle in.

      ‘It’s a straightforward consult. One of the bosses at the airline’s office wants to meet you just in case anything goes wrong with her pregnancy. She’s flying home to Auckland next month, four weeks before her baby is due, but is playing it safe.’ Colleen smiled cautiously. ‘I think you’ll get a lot of that—playing safe. Especially with the Kiwis.’

      ‘That’s fine. Understandable, I suppose, if they’re used to big, modern hospitals.’ Rachel shrugged away her disappointment. She liked to see a pregnancy through to the end, not be a stopgap measure. But who could blame women who wanted to go home to be with family and friends when they were having a baby?

      The day of Riley’s birth was still vivid in her mind. She’d been in awe of the tiny bundle the midwife had handed her. And the stunned expression on Jamie’s face and the unqualified love in his eyes as he’d met his son for the very first time had taken her breath away. There’d been a steady stream of friends and colleagues visiting her and Riley while she’d remained in hospital. And Jamie had hardly left her side until he’d been able to take them home.

      So why had Jamie gone and got himself shot? What had possessed him to do something so stupid he’d deprived Riley of his father?

      She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Nearly two years later and she still couldn’t fathom Jamie’s actions that day. She was still angry and hurt. Pulling herself together for the people who needed her to be strong, she blindly followed Colleen down the corridor. Bring on the work, the patients, the mind-diverting everyday things that would get her past these moments.

      The work would settle her, help ease the pain of the past and, just maybe, make the future a little more appealing than it had been since Jamie’s murder.

      CHAPTER THREE

      RACHEL saw her patient out and turned back to her office. After only a few days she felt completely at home in this small hospital.

      ‘Doc, how’s your morning been?’ Ben’s voice reached her from across the hall, caressed her skin, turning the humid heat to a dry sizzle.

      She whipped around, hoping he put her red cheeks down to her not being used to working in temperatures in the high twenties. ‘Ben. What are you doing here? I thought you were on duty today.’

      ‘I’ve brought someone in for urgent medical attention.’ His gaze cruised over her face, down her neck and on down her body as he lounged against the wall.

      The sizzle became sparks. Forget high twenties, try high thirties. The air-conditioning was next to useless so earlier she’d thrown open all the windows, but right now she was overcooking.

      His gaze had stuck on her legs. She shouldn’t have worn a short skirt to work but most of her clothes were not suitable for this climate. The skirt should’ve been cool but she might as well be wearing woollen trousers for all the good it did. Ben had an unprecedented effect on her. A lingering glance from him and she had all the backbone of one of those jellyfish purported to be beyond the reef. What would it be like to succumb to that provocative sensuality glittering out at her?

      Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Whatever the answer, she was not about to find out. Concentrate. And not on what he seemed to be thinking either. ‘What’s the problem with the patient?’

      ‘He’s got too much spare time on his hands.’

      ‘What’s wrong medically?’

      Ben grimaced. ‘He fell while climbing out of his truck outside the police station, knocked himself unconscious on the kerb. He had a fit and nearly swallowed his tongue but we managed to prevent that.’

      ‘We?’

      ‘Okay, me.’ Ben shrugged.

      ‘He’s a very lucky man.’ Lucky Ben knew what to do in the circumstances. Another example of his competence around injured folk. Had he done a first-aid course? Probably a prerequisite to being a policeman here. ‘What about the head wound? Is he going to be all right?’

      ‘Lissie’s with him. He’s got a hard head.’

      Rachel raised her eyebrows. Surely he was joking? A tiny glint twinkled back at her from those intense black eyes. So he was teasing. Who’d have believed it? The man had a fun side after all.

      ‘Glad to hear he’ll be all right.’ She paused. ‘While you’re here, are you sure you’re happy with me giving Effie some extra work?’ Why had she asked? To make polite conversation? Not likely. Shock rippled through her. She was trying to delay him, keep him talking to her. It didn’t matter what about; she just wanted to watch the lines of his face when he spoke. He had a strong face that softened when he thought no one was looking. His mouth could be grim, as it had been when he’d delivered Effie to her, but it could also lift into the most stomach-crunching, heart-melting smile that made her think of the sun coming out behind the grey snow clouds on an English winter’s day.

      ‘No problem. Got time for a coffee?’ he muttered, then looked distinctly uncomfortable.

      Regretting his invitation already? ‘Yes, I do, as it happens.’ Clinic didn’t start for another twenty minutes.

      ‘Oh, right.’

      ‘Where do we go? I haven’t found out what’s available here. Colleen always appears with coffee just as I start to feel in need of caffeine.’ A mischievous impulse made her step in front of him and look up into his eyes. The mischief faded as those eyes widened and something like desire

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