Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger

by Amy Andrews

  ‘I love that smell. It’s been running through my veins since I was a kid. It’s addictive. And it’s associated with surgery to me. Having to set foot in a hospital every day for work and not go to the operating theatres would be torture. A constant reminder of everything I’ve lost. That I’m living out the consolation prize instead of the dream. I can’t do it.’

  Part of Felicity wanted to tell him to harden up. That life wasn’t fair. That it threw you curveballs. But she figured he’d learned that lesson plenty over the last couple of years.

  ‘So you chose general practice.’

  ‘Yes.’

  And here they were.

  ‘So choose it,’ she said.

  ‘Okay, fine,’ he huffed, sitting in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ‘What do you suggest to improve my skills? Teach me.’

  She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Seriously? It’s not rocket science.’

  ‘Seriously. I mean it.’ He nodded. ‘Give me some pointers and I’ll employ them for the remaining patients today. You can critique me at the end. Give me a score out of ten.’

  Felicity suppressed an eye-roll. Just like a man to make it competitive. But she had to give him chops for taking what she’d said on board. Especially given its level of frankness. She’d known some surgeons in Adelaide who would have had apoplexy if she’d spoken to them the way she’d spoken to Callum.

  The fact he seemed keen to improve was also encouraging.

  ‘Fine.’ A stray piece of her fringe fell over her right eye and she absently blew it away as she pulled up a chair.

  ‘How about you start by calling them by their names? And thinking about them that way too. As people first. And instead of focusing on their problem and trying to solve it as soon as possible, then calling out “Next”, like you’ve set a mental timer, maybe you could try a little conversation. Talk to them when they’re here, not your computer screen, and about something other than whatever it is they’re coming in for. The weather. The weekend markets. Their kids. Their grandkids. Their mothers-in-law. Harvest season. Mulberry pies. Anything.’

  ‘Conversation, huh?’

  Felicity heard the amusement in his voice and couldn’t stop the smile that curved her mouth. She had first-hand experience of how good he was at conversation. ‘Yeah. It’s okay, we have time. Pretend you’re on a train.’

  He smiled too and she breathed in sharply as his whole damn face came alive. For a moment they just sat there smiling at each other, Felicity’s hopes and heart floating foolishly outside her body somewhere. ‘Who knows, you might even discover you like being a GP.’

  His smile faded a little, a good reminder that Callum was only temporary and not to get carried away. Not to let herself become some kind of consolation prize—his words.

  ‘How about we start with Mr Dunnich?’ she said, forcing her legs to stand and dropping her gaze to her trousers, where she brushed at invisible creases.

  ‘The bunions?’

  Her head snapped up to find him grinning big and wide. The kind of grin that made Felicity wish she was still seated.

  ‘And the roses,’ he added quickly. ‘And the wife with a stroke who he cares for. And adores.’

  Felicity refused to laugh but she had to fight the urge as she nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Correct.’

  * * *

  Callum felt suitably chastised as he waited for Felicity to get Mr Dunnich. If he’d known this was what had been bugging her all week he’d have had it out with her sooner. On Friday and again today he’d figured it was the kiss.

  It was almost a relief it had been about this.

  The fact the entire town thought he’d besmirched St Flick was way beyond his scope of practise but the way he interacted with patients he could fix. The practical experience he’d had during his training had been very different from Vickers Hill. Most of his practical had been at the busy north shore practice he was heading to in the New Year. Scheduling was always tight and that’s how he’d learned.

  Get them in, get them out. Next.

  He’d even been applauded for it.

  The fact that it wasn’t the way they did things here hadn’t even occurred to him and he was grateful to Felicity for finally mentioning it.

  Or perhaps cracking up about it was a better descriptor.

  She’d asked him if a city nurse had ever called him on his behaviour and the truth was a nurse probably wouldn’t have dared talk to him like that in one of his theatres. He’d been the surgeon and he’d ruled the kingdom. Not only that, he came from a long line of surgeons. The Hollingsworth name was well known in Sydney. And he’d been the heir apparent for a long time.

  God. He sounded like an arrogant douche.

  The door opened, pulling Callum out of his reverie. ‘Ah, Mr Dunnich.’ Callum half rose. ‘Come and sit down.’

  Mr Dunnich approached more tentatively than he had last time and Callum cringed internally. He’d been too busy at the computer to acknowledge Mr Dunnich last time until he had sat down and it was clear the man was wary of him.

  Callum smiled and indicated a chair for his patient. ‘How are you?’ he asked as the old man sat.

  Mr Dunnich shot a glance at Felicity, as if he was waiting for an interpretation. ‘Fine, thank you, Doctor.’

  Callum grimaced at how formal Mr Dunnich was this time. No Doc today. The fact that he was responsible for it didn’t sit well at all. He obviously had some ground to make up and he was determined to do just that.

  ‘How are the toes going?’

  Mr Dunnich bent to take off his shoes. ‘Much better,’ he said. ‘Those pills worked a treat.’

  Callum performed the same examination on the toes as he’d done last week but this time, aware of Felicity’s scrutiny, he commented on his patient’s neatly pressed trousers. ‘That’s a perfect crease you’ve got going on there.’

  ‘Oh...yes.’

  ‘Do you get them dry-cleaned or iron them yourself?’

  ‘Do it myself,’ he said, pride strengthening his voice. ‘Twenty years in the army when I was a lad. Some things you never forget.’

  ‘Really? I might have to drop mine around too.’

  Mr Dunnich glanced at him awkwardly and Callum grinned and winked. He was relieved when the old man and then Felicity laughed. ‘Me too,’ she added.

  ‘Not on your life.’ Mr Dunnich chortled.

  ‘Please thank your wife for the roses last week. I took them home and they were perfect in Luci’s house.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Mr Dunnich agreed cheekily. ‘Luci’s house was made for roses.’

  ‘Does your wife have a favourite?’ Callum enquired as he indicated Mr Dunnich should put his shoes back on.

  ‘No. No one in particular but she does love the climbing roses best. Every morning without fail we have a cuppa out on the front porch so she can look out over the arbour where they all climb. Gets some Vitamin D too before the day becomes too hot. Except the last few days. Lizzy hasn’t really wanted to.’

  Callum frowned. ‘Is she sick?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said, straightening now his shoes were back on. ‘Communication has been hard since the stroke but I’ve got pretty good at understanding her. She says not. I think she’s just kinda down, you know? I’m a little bit worried about her, to be honest. She’s never been that kind of person.’

  ‘That’s no good.’ Callum’s medical antennae pinged. It had been such a long time since they’d done that. It was nice to have them back.

  He flicked a glance at Felicity. Her brows were drawn together in a concerned V. Maybe Mrs Dunnich needed to be checked on. ‘How about we add Lizzy to Felicity’s home visit list on Thursday? Just to give her a once-over, put your mind at ease?’

  Mr Dunnich brightened. ‘Yeah?’

&nb
sp; ‘Absolutely, Mr Dunnich,’ Felicity confirmed. ‘We’re here to support you and Lizzy.’

  ‘Okay, then, thank you. I’d really appreciate it. I’ll make you some of Lizzy’s rhubarb tartlets. I’ve got rhubarb coming out of my ears.’

  ‘That sounds fabulous,’ she agreed, and Callum wondered where the hell she put all that food if every Thursday was the same as the last one. Her figure was about as perfect as it got without a single sign of twelve different carbohydrate-laden snacks.

  ‘Right, then, it’s settled,’ Callum said. ‘Now, I think I’ll write you up for a month’s worth of the medication for your bunions and let’s assess again after that. Sooner, of course, if the pain worsens. Does that sound like a plan?’

  ‘Sure does, Doc.’

  Callum couldn’t deny how satisfying that Doc was as he turned to the computer and ordered the medication, the script printing out quickly. He pulled it out of the printer and handed it to Mr Dunnich, standing at the same time.

  ‘See you next month, Mr Dunnich,’ Callum said. ‘And Felicity will see you on Thursday.’

  ‘Call me Alf,’ he said, also rising and holding out his hand, which Callum took. ‘I’ll make sure to have some extra tartlets for Flick to give to you.’

  Callum smiled. The people of Vickers Hill obviously prided themselves on the gourmet reputation of the town, nestled as it was in the middle of wine country. They also seemed intent on making him fat.

  ‘Or she might just keep them for herself,’ Felicity said. Mr Dunnich laughed as amusement lit Felicity’s eyes and they dared him to surrender to his fate.

  ‘Rhubarb tartlets are my favourite. I would love that.’

  Callum let out a breath as he sat at his desk after Alf left with Felicity. If the shine in her eyes was anything to go by, he’d nailed it. There had certainly been no tight-lipped, jaw-clenched, silent disapproval.

  The door opened and he braced himself for his next patient—a torn ACL. Oops. No. Jane Richie was his next patient. But he needn’t have worried, it was just Felicity.

  ‘Now,’ she said as she walked towards him with an I-told-you-so swagger. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘You’re a gloater, aren’t you?’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said, batting her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated manner with a big grin that transformed her entire face, and in that moment he saw the same thing that everyone else around here did—Flick, who was all things to all people. Who was popular with everybody and loved by all.

  Who belonged to them.

  It was a sobering thought. She’d been the girl on the train to him since the beginning but seeing her here in her natural habitat it was clear that train girl had been the aberration.

  Still, he wasn’t ready to let that version of her go either. There were obviously two sides to Felicity and he was privileged to have seen the side that obviously no one here had. ‘Let me make it up to you for being so obtuse and... What was it you called me? Cavalier? Come to my place for dinner tonight. I’m a pretty mean cook.’

  The remnants of her smile slid from her mouth as she sat on the chair Mr Dunnich had just vacated. ‘No.’

  ‘Just dinner.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you worried about Mrs Smith?’

  ‘No. I’m worried about us. Together. Alone. Somewhere near a bed.’

  A thick slug of desire hit Callum low in the belly. He’d been thinking about them alone on a bed an inordinate amount of time ever since the kiss in the car. ‘You think I can’t control myself?’

  ‘I think you know as well as I do that neither of us will be able to control ourselves.’

  Callum liked it that she wasn’t playing coy or trying to pretend there wasn’t a thing simmering between them. She may have been trying to ignore it for a week but she wasn’t in denial.

  ‘And we’re not going there.’

  He frowned, getting his thoughts back on track. ‘We’re not?’ It was the right thing to do given they had to work together and he was here for only a short period of time but...

  ‘No. I’m going to be your friend.’

  Callum didn’t have many female friends. The ones he did have he didn’t want to sleep with.

  The same couldn’t be said for Felicity.

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll take you touring on the weekends. We’ll visit some art galleries and antique shops. There’s some great lookouts and a heritage trail. We’ll drink wine and eat gourmet food at a bunch of different wineries. It’ll be fun.’

  Not as much fun as drinking wine and eating gourmet food off her body. ‘Okay...’

  ‘Are you free on Saturday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. I’ll pick you up at eleven.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  FELICITY WASN’T NERVOUS when she picked Callum up on Saturday. She was confident they could be friends, despite the very definite tug of her libido and crazy speculation from the entire town.

  Her libido didn’t rule her actions and the town could talk all they wanted. Felicity knew from old they would anyway. As long as she and Callum knew where they stood, the town could go on building castles in the air.

  Of course, the second she saw him walking down Luci’s flower-lined pathway her confidence nosedived. She didn’t know if it was the riot of colour and prettiness all around him making him seem so damn male or the way he filled out his snug blue jeans, but her belly looped the loop.

  Friends. She could do this. They could do it.

  They had to. Vickers Hill was not the place to be reckless. To be the girl from the train. She would be here long after he’d left and she didn’t want to be walking around with everyone talking about her behind her back. She didn’t want to be an object of gossip or, worse, pity.

  Besides, sex was easy. A friendship could be more enduring and, she suspected, less pain in the long run. Above all else, she sensed that Callum needed a friend more than anything now. He’d been through a lot and was still working things out. She had no doubt he could find lovers. But he was in Vickers Hill for a reason—for clear air.

  Sex would just fog it all up.

  Felicity braced herself as he opened the car door and climbed in beside her. She smiled and said, ‘Hi,’ trying not to notice the way his T-shirt fell against his stomach. It was difficult when she knew exactly what was beneath.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. She couldn’t really see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses but she could feel them all over her. ‘You look great.’

  Felicity blushed, reminding her of how he’d made her blush on the train. She was wearing a dress she’d bought at Bondi with Luci. It was strappy and light in an Aztec pattern, baring her shoulders and arms. The skirt was loose and flowing, the hem fluttering around her knees.

  ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, returning her attention to the road as she engaged the clutch. She wasn’t going to tell him he looked great too. She hadn’t bought him here to flirt with him and if she said, ‘You don’t look so bad either’, that’s what she’d be doing.

  She didn’t want the time he had left here to be one long slow tease between the two of them until one, or both, of them cracked. She was genuine about forming a friendship with him. Absolutely certain that it was their destiny.

  Or, if nothing else, sensible.

  ‘Where are we off to?’

  ‘Pretty Maids All In A Row cellar door,’ Felicity said, pleased to be slipping into tour-guide mode. It was a role she often played for visitors. She loved Vickers Hill and the entire Clare Valley. It may be smaller and further away than the renowned wine-growing region of the Barossa but it was known for its foodie culture and many high-end restaurants.

  ‘That sounds like a mouthful.’

  ‘It is a littl
e.’ She laughed. ‘But they have a Riesling to die for and my favourite menu of all the local wineries. They do this rabbit dish that will make you weep. But first I’m going to take you on a bit of a scenic drive around.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ He nodded. ‘Lead on.’

  * * *

  By the time Felicity pulled into the winery car park an hour later she didn’t think she’d laughed so much in her life. Callum had been an entertaining companion—very Callike—as she’d driven him all around the valley to give him a good overview of the district that surrounded Vickers Hill.

  During lunch—rabbit and a very fine Riesling—they talked a lot of shop. Callum was keen to know all the ins and outs of the practice and the different relationships and Felicity was happy to impart all she knew.

  It was only when they were relaxing over dessert and she was feeling the buzz from her second glass of wine that things turned personal.

  ‘So how come,’ he asked, supporting his chin in his palm as he leaned his elbow on the thick slab of timber that made up the table, ‘somebody hasn’t snapped you up by now, St Felicity.’

  Felicity laughed. ‘St Felicity?’

  ‘Yes. Saint.’ He grinned. ‘Vickers Hill’s very own. You’re the woman who can do no wrong, don’t you know? I have a feeling that the town will apply to have you canonised any day now.’

  If he only knew how very unsaintly her thoughts had been today he’d be shocked. ‘I think I have to be dead for that to happen.’

  ‘A trifling detail,’ he dismissed with a flick of his hand. ‘Seriously, though, were you born in Vickers Hill? Because your people do love you.’

  ‘Born, bred and schooled. Stayed here until I left to go to uni in Adelaide to study nursing.’

  ‘And you came straight back and have dedicated every waking moment of your life to the good people of the Hill?’

  Felicity laughed. ‘No. I’ve only been back for four years. I worked in Adelaide for just over seven years.’