‘OK,’ he said. The way she was now hopelessly trying to get the card into her door lock, it seemed that accepting her invitation was the only way of getting her inside.
After pulling the card out of her hands and getting the lock to click open, he turned to Kate. ‘You’ll have to stick to cold hangover cures. I don’t think I’d trust you with any sort of boiling liquid.’
‘That is totally unfair,’ Kate protested. ‘I only drank the same amount as you. And for the official part of the evening I hardly drank at all.’
‘I’m a fair bit taller. And a hell of a lot wider. And I’m sure the whole team is grateful that you didn’t start drinking earlier. A tipsy paramedic is hardly going to inspire confidence.’
Dropping her bag as she went towards the villa’s small open plan kitchen, Kate also kicked off her high heels, leaving them where they lay in the hallway. ‘That is the highly unfortunate part of being sober at most events. It only takes four drinks to get me like this.’
Andrew propped himself against the kitchen bench. ‘Med school is what built up my alcohol tolerance.’
Kate had flicked on the living room’s television before she reached into the cupboard for the red tablets. Andrew didn’t have the heart to tell her that nothing was going to stop her waking up in the morning without a headache.
‘OK,’ she said, after pushing the fizzing glass towards him. ‘I’m going to get in my pyjamas before the Real Housewives marathon starts.’
Not giving him time to reply, Andrew could only watch as she walked towards the bedroom door pulling on her dress’s zipper.
Despite her frank talk earlier, he genuinely didn’t think this seemed to be a come-on.
His breath caught in his chest when she only kicked the door half closed. Probably a gentleman would look away, but he was damned if he was going to. Damnit, if she really wanted her privacy, her bedroom had a door that fully closed; hey, it even locked.
The dress peeled away and exposed a strapless bra and very, very brief black panties. Her body rocked. Long sleek thighs and high breasts beautifully displayed.
However, Andrew did see something that jolted him out of his lusting haze.
‘What the hell, Kate?’ he called out.
She started and he realized that her impromptu strip had definitely not been for his benefit.
‘What is that?’ Andrew continued, moving away from the kitchen bench and towards her doorway.
The ‘that’ was a huge blackish purple bruise, running down her left side, from her ribcage to mid-thigh.
Kate had belatedly registered his gaze and slung her arm across her chest.
‘It’s nothing. I took a knock when we were loading that cargo crewman. It happens all the time.’
Andrew was suddenly furious. She must have been walking around in quite considerable discomfort for days.
‘What medical professional has confirmed that you didn’t chip a rib or bruise a kidney?’ he asked.
His harshness was enough that the still tipsy Kate took a step back. One arm still bracketed her breasts and Andrew couldn’t break it to her that in pushing her breasts up, she was doing nothing for any attempt at modesty.
‘I looked at it,’ Kate protested. ‘That funny thing that is my university degree allows me to assess injuries.’
Andrew turned his back; she probably didn’t want to see what was tenting his formal pants.
‘I’m looking at it before I leave here tonight, so you might want to get it over with now. And if you are lucky enough to just be bruised, think yourself doubly lucky that I’m not going to report you for breaking protocol. Any injuries that you get onsite have to be seen by me or another doctor at Cairns Base Hospital.’
‘I’ve seen how many drinks you had tonight Andrew. This isn’t exactly the most professional medical assessment of the year.’
Andrew turned towards where Kate was standing. She had pulled an old t-shirt over her head but her legs were gloriously bare.
‘I’ll look at it again tomorrow or you can go to hospital for a medical report. I’m just going to check to make sure that you aren’t going to die on me tonight. I haven’t had so many drinks I can’t correctly diagnose a blood clot. Apart from anything, I don’t want to have to train another paramedic on how I like my med bags packed.’
‘Tool,’ was the word he was sure he heard murmured under Kate’s breath.
Andrew went to the leather sofa that was identical to his own, and sat down. He motioned for Kate to come and stand between his legs.
She moved but was still too far away. Andrew put his hand on her hip and pulled her closer.
‘You are going to have to pull that top up,’ he said, glad to hear no break in his voice. He didn’t want to be so affected by the sight of her perfect body — within just scant inches of his.
Kate gathered her top up and held it just under her bra. A good look at the extent of her bruising gave him some professional distance
‘Ouch,’ he said, in sympathy.
Andrew tried to keep the touching to a minimum, feeling for broken ribs and looking closely for the kind of discolouration that would indicate the kind of blood clotting that could disconnect and end up in her lungs or brain. Andrew was good at being a professional, good at compartmentalizing his job. However, a man would have to be dead if some part of his brain didn’t register the silky texture of her skin.
Kate stook stoically until his hand came in contact with what must have been a particularly tender part of flesh.
‘Shit Andrew, that hurt,’ she said. ‘Are you punishing me for my correct diagnosis that my injuries are superficial?’
Her body swayed slightly but he could tell that the last five minutes had gone a long way to sobering her up.
Andrew put his hands on his thighs and with words clipped short, said, ‘You’re lucky enough to only have deep tissue muscular bruising. You’ve been a paramedic long enough to know that self-diagnosing is for amateurs and if we didn’t have a few days rostered off, I’d be recommending one or two days out of action.’
‘Told you it was nothing,’ said Kate, petulance evident in her tone.
Andrew wanted to shake her for her stubbornness in having an injury and not reporting it. ‘Bloody hell, Kate, you know you don’t get extra points in life for being the bravest girl in the world.’
‘OK, Andrew, point taken’ she said, annoyance definitely not banished. ‘I’ll only serve you coffee if you can stop being the doctor for long enough to drink it.’
With her standing there, barely dressed, telling him the professional portion of the evening was over, Andrew did the thing he had felt absolutely compelled to do. He lifted his hand and ran it softly across the unmarked portion of her perfect smooth stomach, just above the waistband of her low-cut panties.
Her body shivered, almost quaking under his hand.
Chapter Eleven
Kate’s breath caught almost painfully in her throat, as she stood there, trying to still her body’s response to Andrew’s touch. His mouth was close enough to her hip that she could feel the warmth of his exhalation against her skin. She could even hear the almost undiscernible rasp of a man trying to slow a rapid breath. That gentle, definitely-non-professional touch, had made every cell in her body sing.
Kate didn’t know how to respond to that overture. She wanted this man. Her body had made that very clear. However, she needed to buy time.
‘Do you take sugar in your coffee?’ she asked, as she took a step backwards and pulled her t-shirt down as far as she could.
Now she wanted her jeans, or really any cover up. But, she thought, going to her room for them would make it seem like too big a deal.
‘White coffee, one sugar.’
The amusement in Andrew’s eyes as he put in his coffee preference made her aware that her reaction was possibly not as seamless as she might have liked.
‘Ouch.’ Bumping into the cold marble of the kitchen benches possibly also didn’t help her sophis
tication levels.
‘Are you OK there?’ Now Andrew didn’t even bother to hide the humour in his voice.
‘Fine,’ she replied grimly. Where was another shot of tequila when you needed it?
Part of her wanted to walk back over to the man, shimmy out of her panties and climb into his lap. But, she knew herself and how embarrassed she would be in the morning. Hell, part of her already wanted to slam her head against the kitchen bench-top in penance.
Had she really discussed oral sex with her work colleague and stupidly gotten undressed after asking him in? In what universe was that her normal behaviour? Now the alcoholic buzz was lifting and he was still there. He was definitely still there, definitely looking at her with predatory eyes.
Two mugs in her hands, Kate walked back over to the lounge suite. She put Andrew’s cup on the low coffee table and found herself a seat on the armchair opposite him.
Now, legs together, she reminded herself, she didn’t want to flash anything more. Kate couldn’t quite decide if it would have been more or less embarrassing that Andrew caught her in some tiny underwear or if she’d decided to wear her spanks. The spanks would have at least spared her a lecture, as her bruises would have been well hidden. If that had happened, Andrew might have been out of the door, instead of taking up residence on her lounge.
‘So, got any plans for the rest of the weekend?’ she asked.
Maybe normality would just somehow resume and the previous hour could be glossed over.
Andrew let her words hang there, long enough for her to worry that he wasn’t going to let her change the subject.
‘I’m going to play at being an English tourist down at the markets,’ he replied, finally. ‘Want to be tour guide?’
‘I wasn’t trying to hint for an invitation,’ said Kate, suddenly feeling like she had to make that very clear.
‘If I wasn’t wanting to spend tomorrow with you I’m quite capable of making that clear.’
With Andrew’s arrogance, Kate was sure that was true.
He continued, ‘No, I’m asking you to spend the day with me because I really want you to.’
‘I’ll go,’ Kate said simply. She curled her legs up under her and noticed his brown eyes darken with what could only be a strong pull of lust.
Andrew put down his coffee cup, and for a moment Kate thought he was going to reach for her. Instead, he picked up his dinner jacket, discarded on the seat beside him, and got to his feet.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said, walking out without waiting for her reply.
‘It is open,’ was her response to a late morning knock.
Kate couldn’t figure how it was fair that Andrew strode in to the room with such vigour. Her own head rang with the pain of probably five or six standard drinks too many.
Walking into the dimly lit living room, he looked down upon the leather couch where she had spent the hours after he had left sleeping.
‘What, have you given up pants?’ was his immediate question.
Even with her curled up on the couch she suspected that he managed to note her lack of bra under a t-shirt that wasn’t completely long enough to cover the small black panties.
Kate raised her head only long enough to answer him. ‘Andrew, you are the one man in the world who has complaints that my dress sense isn’t modest enough.’
‘Your dress sense is fine. I’m a guy who is pro-skin, I just don’t know if this attempt to rob me of the half of my brain that forms proper sentences was deliberate or coincidental.’
‘No conspiracy theory needed.’ Kate did actually feel pretty rumpled. ‘I have the hangover from hell and while the idea of more clothes did occur, in a risk benefit analysis, me walking across the room to actually get them was a bridge too far.’
Kate felt a small charge at the idea that she had a strong effect on him. ‘Out,’ she continued. ‘I’ll shower and I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready.’
‘Bloody women,’ Andrew smiled at her. ‘I can’t believe I have to wait for you to accessorize.’
The cushion that was close to hand hit the door as he escaped.
About an hour later, Kate stretched out her denim-clad legs in front of her. Her eyes were shaded from the light and the pounding in her head had lessened to a tolerable level.
‘Are you going to stop sulking now?’ Andrew asked, obviously feeling safe now there was nothing close to throw available in the car.
‘Just because you pulled up well,’ Kate twisted in her seat to face him more fully. ‘Actually, are you sure you aren’t one of those doctors who keeps a pilfered IV in his bathroom for just such a day as this?’
Andrew laughed. ‘Not likely with the way that you check and recheck the drug and equipment list. Anyway, from memory, that trick was one more often pulled by the paramedic staff.’
‘That is probably because some doctors don’t bother with the IV of saline, they go straight to the opiates.’
‘Nice,’ Andrew said. ‘Although I do remember an infamous med ball where almost all the registrars the next day had to self-prescribe anti-emetics just to avoid throwing up while they were treating patients.’
With the twisting road climbing up towards the mountains, Kate almost wished that she or Andrew were dodgy enough for her to have something other than the diet coke in her hand.
However, as the car swept around the corner, the view out towards the sea gave her a burst of pleasure.
‘Pull over,’ Kate directed.
‘Please throw up outside the car,’ Andrew replied, as he parked on the grassy verge.
‘No, dummy, the view.’ Kate loved this view of the area. The sea sat on the horizon and this high into the hills you could even spot the coral cay Green Island.
Kate got out and went around to lean back against the still warm hood of the car. Andrew followed.
‘Do you ever look down at the rainforest and wonder how many people are going to get lost there in the next few years?’ Andrew asked.
‘God you haven’t caught risk assessment disorder as well,’ Kate laughed. ‘I think that illness is one particular to first responders. It seems we can’t go anywhere without first figuring out a rescue or treatment scenario.’
‘Great,’ Andrew said, ruefully. ‘This had better go away when I go back to England. I don’t want to spend every football match I attend thinking about what I would do if the stand collapsed. I was bad enough when I was first a hospital resident and used to spend the train-ride home diagnosing people in my head.’
Kate laughed at the idea of a young Andrew doing exactly that. However, there was a catch, deep down in her throat. This job was just a career pit stop for him and that was something she was going to have to keep at the forefront of her mind.
‘OK, time is a-wasting,’ she said. ‘We don’t want all the good pieces to be sold at the market.’
‘Yee Haw,’ Andrew replied, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm. ‘We wouldn’t want to miss the good stuff.’
Twenty minutes later, Kate and Andrew were again getting out of the car. This time, though, they were in the midst of humanity. The markets up at Kuranda were especially popular on the weekend; tourists loved the picturesque trip and eclectic market finds.
‘Am I going to have to hang around as you shop?’ Andrew asked.
He surprised Kate by casually swapping over to the road side of the path and placing his hand lightly on her back.
Kate tried to ignore the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin cotton of her t-shirt. ‘No, I’m going to hang around while you shop. I presume you like your mother enough to buy something for her. It is what a good tourist son would do.’
‘You’ll have to help me in picking out a gift. My mother won’t just want any market tat,’ Andrew replied.
‘Well then, obviously I’ll have to take off my list all the horrible ugly stuff that I was going to recommend you buy,’ Kate said, shaking her head at the handsome doctor’s arrogance.
As th
ey wandered around the small rainforest village, Andrew kept on putting his hands on her. It was nothing overt, just a hand to the elbow, a touch of his hand. Kate couldn’t help a weird pride at the fact that anyone watching would surely think they were a couple.
The town was busy today, as they had gotten off to a slow start and arrived even after the train, which brought hundreds of tourists here. There was a charm in the historic buildings and even if some of the tourist attractions seemed contrived, there was a real beauty in being nestled high above sea level in the Atherton Tablelands.
‘Would your mum wear an opal brooch?’ she asked, as they looked at the many locally mined jewels in the glass cabinet of the upscale market stall.
‘She wore the metal brooch that I made in metalwork class, but I’m not sure that you are as obliged to wear the gifts of your thirty-six-year-old son as you are when he was a ten-year-old. Would you wear that?’
Kate looked down at the pretty, delicate opal set in filigree silver. ‘I probably wouldn’t but I imagine that a mother of yours might.’
Andrew’s large hand scooped it up and turned it over. ‘Jesus, it’s seven hundred dollars.’
Kate looked up and was grateful that he had pitched his voice low enough that the store-holder hadn’t overheard. ‘Don’t be cheap, Andrew. Anyway, I don’t see you jumping into a metal-working shop anytime soon, so you can’t fall back on home-made’.
After Andrew had made his purchase, giving her side-eyes as he handed over his credit card, Kate convinced him that he would also enjoy the scenic cableway.
‘I’ll get the tickets,’ Andrew offered, when Kate reached for her handbag.
‘Only if you are sure your pocket book can withstand it.’
Kate knew she probably should refuse an overture that made it seem date-like. However, she guessed Andrew had too much masculine pride for that to be anything but a tedious argument.
Despite the line-up of people who were also waiting for the Skyrail, when the line got to Kate and Andrew they were let into a glass pod by themselves.
Rescue Nights Page 10