Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger

by Amy Andrews

  Felicity’s toes curled in her pumps at the sexually suggestive reply. That wasn’t what Mike had meant.

  ‘Does he know how to treat a woman?’

  He didn’t laugh this time, just eyed her intently as he replied. ‘Oh, yeah. He knows exactly how to treat a woman.’

  ‘Then you don’t need me to decide, Felicity.’

  He released her hand, slowly, still holding her gaze with a red-hot intensity. ‘Looks like the ball is in your court.’

  Felicity’s heart tripped as he fixed her with a gaze that left her in no doubt they were both going to be naked within about ten seconds of the door shutting. Her breath hitched but she was aware of Travis, still at the bar, in her peripheral vision.

  What would he think if they left together? Would he gossip about it with the rest of the crew? Would everyone know in the morning that she and Callum had spent the night together?

  If she was back home in Vickers Hill, everyone would know.

  But she wasn’t. Was she? She wasn’t Flick here. She was Felicity and nobody knew her.

  Felicity picked up her glass and swallowed the last quarter in three long gulps. She stood, her body heating as his lazy gaze took its sweet time checking her out. ‘Your compartment or mine?’

  He smiled, downed the last of his whisky and held out his hand. She took it, smiling also, tugging on his hand, impatient now she’d taken the first step to get on with it.

  Jock entered the lounge at that moment and Felicity halted, letting go of Callum’s hand immediately, like a guilty teenager. The older man was in a pair of tracksuit pants and a white singlet.

  ‘Jock,’ she said, smiling as she walked towards him, aware of Callum close on her heels. ‘Thought you’d be in the land of nod by now.’

  Jock gave them a tight smile. ‘So did I but...’ He rubbed his chest. ‘My indigestion is really giving me hell tonight. I thought I’d come and ask Travis for a glass of milk. That usually does the trick.’

  Felicity felt the first prickle of alarm as she neared Jock. The subdued night-time lighting in the lounge hadn’t made the sweat on his brow and the pallor of his face obvious.

  ‘Jock?’ She frowned. ‘Are you okay?’

  Callum stepped out from behind her, also frowning. ‘You don’t look very well.’

  ‘You need to sit down, I think,’ Felicity said, ushering him over to the closest chair.

  ‘Do you have any cardiac history?’ Callum asked as Jock swayed a little, reaching for the arm of the couch.

  ‘No. Never had any ticker prob—’

  Jock didn’t get to finish his sentence. He grabbed his chest and let out a guttural cry instead, folding to his knees.

  Adrenaline surged into Felicity’s veins. ‘Jock!’ she said, throwing herself down next to him.

  But it was too late. He collapsed the rest of the way, splayed awkwardly on the floor. Felicity gave him a shake but there was nothing.

  ‘He’s having an MI,’ Callum said as he helped Felicity ease Jock on his back.

  Felicity blinked at the terminology. An MI, or myocardial infarction, was not a term a layperson used. Nonmedical people said heart attack. ‘He doesn’t have a pulse,’ she said, feeling for his carotid.

  ‘Oh, my God, what’s wrong with him?’ an ashen-faced Travis asked, hovering over them.

  ‘I’ll start compressions,’ Felicity said, ignoring the bartender as more adrenaline surged into her system and she kicked into nursing mode.

  ‘He’s in cardiac arrest,’ Callum said as he automatically moved around until Jock’s head was at his knees. Felicity admired the steadiness of his voice and the expert way he tilted Jock’s jaw and gave his airway support.

  Technical writer be damned.

  ‘Do you guys keep a defib?’ Callum demanded. ‘Some kind of first aid kit? We need more help. And we need to figure out how to get him to an ambulance.’

  Felicity couldn’t agree more. She had no idea if that was possible but she knew they couldn’t keep him alive indefinitely. Jock needed more than they could give him here on a luxury train in the middle of nowhere.

  Things were looking grim for the travelling companion she’d grown fond of in just a few hours.

  ‘Yes. We have a defib,’ Travis said, his voice tremulous as Felicity counted out the compressions to herself. ‘But I’ve never actually used it on a real person before.’

  ‘It’s fine. I’m a doctor,’ Callum said, his voice brisk.

  Felicity glanced at Callum, not surprised at the knowledge given his use of medical terminology and his total control of the scene.

  ‘And I’m a nurse.’

  He glanced at her but didn’t say anything, just nodded and said, ‘Go,’ to Travis as he leaned down and puffed some breaths into Jock’s mouth.

  It was satisfying to see Jock’s chest rise and fall. CPR guidelines had changed recently, focusing more on chest compressions for those untrained in the procedure. But for medical professionals who knew what they were doing airway and breathing still formed part of the procedure.

  And old habits died hard.

  * * *

  Callum’s training took over and all his senses honed as he rode the adrenaline high, doing what he did best—saving lives. Travis was back in under a minute, bringing a portable defibrillator, a medical kit and the cavalry, who arrived in varying states of panic. He tuned them all out as he grabbed the defibrillator, turned it on, located some pads, yanked up Jock’s singlet and slapped them on his chest.

  Even Felicity in her dress and heels, pumping away on Jock’s chest beside him, faded to black as he concentrated on Jock. Once this was over—which could be soon if they couldn’t revive Jock—he’d think about her being a nurse. About how they’d both lied. For now he just had to get some cardiac output.

  Felicity stopped compressions while the machine was reading the rhythm. Callum opened the medical kit, relieved to find an adult resus mask. At least he could give Jock mouth to mask now.

  The machine advised a shock.

  ‘All clear,’ Callum said, raising his voice to be heard above everyone talking over everyone else.

  Felicity wriggled back. So did he as the room fell silent. The machine automatically delivered a shock, Jock’s chest arcing off the floor.

  ‘Recommence CPR,’ the machine advised, and they both moved back in, Felicity pounding on the chest again as he fitted the mask and held it and Jock’s jaw one-handed.

  ‘Where’s the nearest medical help?’ Callum demanded of a guy with a radio who appeared to be the head honcho.

  ‘We’re about twenty clicks out of Condobolin. Ambulance will meet us at the station. A rescue chopper is being scrambled from Dubbo.’

  ‘How long will it take to get to Condobolin?’

  ‘The driver’s speeding her up. Fifteen minutes tops.’

  Callum wasn’t sure Jock had fifteen minutes, especially if he wasn’t in a shockable rhythm. He wished he had oxygen and intubation gear. He wished he had an IV and access to fluids and drugs. He wished he had that ambulance right here right now. And a cardiac catheter lab at his disposal.

  But he didn’t. He had a defibrillator and Felicity.

  He glanced at her. He didn’t have to ask to know she was thinking the same thing. Fifteen minutes was like a lifetime in this situation, where every second meant oxygen starvation of vital tissues.

  ‘Piece of cake,’ she muttered, a small smile on her lips, before returning her attention to the task at hand.

  He smiled to himself as he leaned down to blow into the mask. There was controlled panic all around him, with orders being given and radio static and the loud clatter of wheels on the track as the train sped to Condobolin. Somewhere he could vaguely hear poor Thelma sobbing. But amidst it all Felicity was calm and determined and s
o was he. Fifteen minutes? He’d done CPR for much longer.

  ‘Check rhythm.’

  Felicity stopped so the machine could do its thing. When it recommended another shock they followed the all-clear procedure again and once more the entire lounge fell silent, apart from Thelma’s sobs.

  Jock’s chest arced again but this time it was successful.

  ‘Normal rhythm,’ the machine, no bigger than a couple of house bricks, pronounced.

  Felicity gasped, a broad smile like the rising sun breaking over her face. ‘I’ve got a pulse,’ he confirmed, grinning back. ‘Jock?’ Callum pulled the mask away. ‘Can you hear me, Jock?’

  Jock gave a slight moan and made a feeble attempt to move a hand. ‘Jock? Jock!’ Thelma threw herself down beside them.

  ‘Is he okay?’ she asked, looking first at Callum then at Felicity through puffy red eyes.

  ‘We got him back,’ Callum said. Both of them knew he wasn’t out of danger but it was something.

  Felicity reached across and squeezed Thelma’s arm. ‘He’s still very unstable,’ she said gently. ‘But it’s a good sign.’

  Callum was relieved when the train pulled into the station, even if the strobing of red and blue lights around the iron and tin structure of the roof created a bizarre discotheque. Very quickly a drowsy Jock was transported out of the train to the ambulance, accompanied by a paramedic, Callum, Felicity, Thelma and the rail guy with the radio.

  Finally Callum had access to oxygen and a heart monitor. It was worrying to see multiple ectopic beats and runs of ventricular tachycardia, though, and Callum crossed his fingers that Jock’s heart would hold out until he got the primary cardiac care he so urgently needed.

  Callum and the paramedic whacked in two large-bore IVs and then Felicity was helping Thelma into the ambulance and he was getting in the back with Jock. There was no question in his mind that he’d stay with the old man and hand over to the medivac crew when they landed at the airstrip in approximately fifteen minutes’ time.

  He glanced out the back window as the rig pulled away, the siren a mournful wail in the deserted streets of the tiny outback town. Felicity was framed in the strobing lights, staring after the ambulance. She looked exactly the way he suspected they all probably looked. A little shell-shocked as the adrenaline that had ridden them hard started to ebb.

  But also strong and calm. As she had been throughout.

  This was not how he’d pictured tonight would end, and as the mantle of regret settled into his bones he knew their moment had passed.

  He watched her with a heavy heart until she faded from sight.

  CHAPTER THREE

  FELICITY LAY AWAKE on her bed an hour later, staring out the window. The train was still stationary at Condobolin station, which was in darkness after the ghoulish flashing of emergency lights. Her compartment was also in darkness, except for the slice of light coming in from the hallway through her open door.

  Callum hadn’t returned and she couldn’t sleep.

  After the ambulance had disappeared she’d gone back to her compartment and showered, standing beneath the spray shaking like a leaf as the adrenaline that had sustained her during the emergency had released her from its grip.

  She’d waited around in the lounge for a while after they’d gone, thinking Callum would be back soon. Some of her fellow passengers joined her, curious to know what was happening, but they didn’t linger and eventually Donald had urged her to go back to her compartment and try and get some sleep.

  But she couldn’t. It was hard to shut her brain down after what had transpired.

  She was about to give up, switch her light on and grab a book out of her bag when Callum strode by her door.

  ‘Oh...hi,’ he said, obviously surprised to see her awake and her door open as he pulled up short. She’d deliberately left it ajar because she didn’t want to miss his return.

  Felicity sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘You’re back.’ She stood and took a couple of paces towards him, conscious, as he took up all the space in her doorway, of how different she looked now in loose yoga pants and T with bare feet, compared to the high-heeled, little-black-dress woman he’d been flirting with earlier.

  He looked exactly the same. Only sexier. His calm and control when everyone else around them had been losing their heads had kicked his good looks up to a whole other level.

  Why was competence so damn attractive?

  ‘How’s Jock? Did the medivac transfer go smoothly?’

  ‘Not really. He went into VF while we were waiting for the plane and we had to shock him twice to get him back.’

  Felicity pressed her hand to her mouth, a hot spike of concern needling her. ‘I was worried something was going down. You were gone so long.’

  ‘I stuck around and helped them stabilise him for transport.’

  ‘Of course.’ They’d have wanted to have everything as controlled as possible before they loaded him on the chopper to avoid any chance of midair deterioration. ‘What are his chances, do you think?’ she asked, folding her arms.

  ‘I don’t know. He’s not very stable at the moment. It’s a forty-minute chopper flight to Dubbo hospital and by that time he’ll be about ninety minutes post–cardiac tissue injury. He’s inside the window, so fingers crossed, with some tertiary management he should be okay. I’ll check on him when we get into Adelaide tomorrow.’

  Felicity nodded. ‘I guess we’re going to be kind of late into Adelaide.’

  ‘I guess we are. Although Donald reckons they’ll be able to make up a lot of the time.’

  ‘I’m in no hurry,’ she said, and gave him a smile because she could stay on this train and look at him for a decade and it probably still wouldn’t be long enough.

  He smiled back, his gaze locking with hers. ‘Neither am I.’

  There was silence for a beat or two while they just stood and smiled at each other in some weird moment of shared intimacy as only two people who’d been through such a high-stakes ordeal could.

  The train moved forward unexpectedly and jostled him inside the compartment, bringing him a step closer. He ducked his head down to glance out the window. ‘Looks like we’re off.’

  ‘Yes,’ Felicity said, as she half turned to find the darkened station platform appearing to slowly move.

  When she turned back he was staring at her with heat in his eyes. They’d been flirty earlier but now they were just plain frank. His gaze dropped to her mouth as he took a step towards her. Her breath hitched. The atmosphere thickened and pulsed with promise.

  She’d resigned herself to this not happening but suddenly it was on again.

  ‘So...’ She swallowed to moisten her suddenly parched throat as he loomed big and broad and close enough to reach out and touch. ‘Not a technical writer, huh?’

  He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Not a public servant?’

  She shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to be regaled with a dozen different medical stories or be canonised as some kind of saint.’

  ‘You’re forgetting about the lectures on the state of the health-care system.’

  She laughed. ‘Those too.’

  Felicity supposed she should ask him more about his medical background but right now she didn’t care. Not with her pulse fluttering madly at her temple and warmth suffusing her belly. ‘You were great out there.’

  ‘So were you.’

  ‘Not quite what I expected would happen tonight.’

  He smiled. ‘Me neither.’ And then, ‘Are you...okay? It was kind of intense. The adrenaline was flowing.’

  ‘Sure, steady as a rock.’ Felicity held up a hand horizontally. It betrayed her completely by trembling.

  ‘So I see.’

  Felicity glanced from it to him, conscious of the sway of the train. Consc
ious that she was far away from Vickers Hill.

  It emboldened her.

  ‘That’s not from the accident.’

  Her hand was trembling for reasons that were far more primal.

  He regarded her for long moments before turning slightly and reaching for the door behind him to shut it. He turned the lock with a resounding click, the noise slithering with wicked intent to all her secret places.

  They were truly alone now.

  Darkness pressed in on her, the only light entering from the strip at the bottom of the door and the moonlight pushing in through the window. It was enough to allow her eyes to adjust quickly.

  Enough to see Callum.

  He turned to face her, stepped closer, so close his breath warmed her forehead. He reached for her hand, which had fallen by her side. ‘Maybe you just need to...’ he slid her hand onto his chest, flattening it over his heart, his big hand holding hers in place ‘...grab hold of something solid?’

  Felicity dropped her gaze to their joined hands. Each thud of his heart reverberated through her palm, scattering awareness to every cell of her body. She’d never had a one-night stand or done anything so spontaneous. But on a night when she’d been reminded how precarious life could be she needed it.

  She needed this. She needed him.

  The clickety-clack of the wheels on the track faded. ‘Maybe I do,’ she murmured, the scent from his citrusy cologne filling her senses until she was dizzy with wanting him.

  Like a slice of lime after a shot of tequila.

  His kiss, when it came, was gentle. So gentle it almost made her cry. It was long and slow and sweet. It was everything she hadn’t known she needed in this moment.

  Earlier, if she’d been asked how this would go down, she would have said fast and furious. But this was infinitely better. Burning slow and bright, building in increments that piled on top of the next, making her yearn and ache and want even as it soothed and sated.