The Australian's Proposal (Mills & Boon By Request): The Doctor's Marriage Wish / The Playboy Doctor's Proposal / The Nurse He's Been Waiting For

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The Australian's Proposal (Mills & Boon By Request): The Doctor's Marriage Wish / The Playboy Doctor's Proposal / The Nurse He's Been Waiting For Page 22

by Meredith Webber


  The two cabin-crew members pushing a meal trolley through to economy class exchanged a doubtful glance.

  ‘Should we wait a bit before serving the back section?’

  ‘No.’ The steward who had been responsible for Hannah’s upgrade shook his head. ‘Let’s get it done, then we can clear up. If we’re going to hit any really rough stuff, it’ll be when we’re north of Brisbane.’

  Hannah tightened her seat belt a little.

  ‘Nervous?’ Ryan must have been watching her quite closely to observe the action.

  ‘I’m not that keen on turbulence.’

  ‘Doesn’t bother me.’ Ryan smiled at Hannah. Or had that smile been intended for the approaching stewardess? ‘I quite like a bumpy ride.’

  Hannah and Ryan both chose coffee rather than tea. Of course the smile had been for the pretty redhead. Likewise the comment that could easily have been taken as blatant flirting.

  ‘I don’t know Emily,’ Ryan said. ‘Maybe you can fill me in. She’s a doctor, yes?’

  ‘Yes. She’s Susie’s best friend.’

  ‘Susie?’

  ‘My sister.’

  ‘The clone. Right. So how long has she been in Crocodile Creek?’

  ‘About three years. She went to Brisbane to get some post-grad training after she finished her physiotherapy degree and she liked it so much she decided to stay.’

  ‘I thought she was a doctor.’

  ‘No. She started medical school with me but it wasn’t what she wanted.’

  ‘How come she lives in that doctors’ house that used to be the old hospital, then?’

  ‘She doesn’t.’

  ‘That’s not what Mike told me.’

  ‘Why would Mike be telling you about my sister?’

  ‘He wasn’t. He was telling me about his fiancée. Emily.’ Ryan groaned. ‘We’re not on the same page here, are we?’

  ‘No.’ And they never would be. ‘Sorry. I don’t know much about Emily either, except that she’s a really nice person and totally in love with Mike and his parents are thrilled and hoping for lots of grandchildren.’

  Ryan was still frowning. ‘If you don’t know Emily and you don’t know Mike, why have you been invited to their wedding?’

  ‘As Susie’s partner, kind of. We haven’t seen each other since Christmas.’

  ‘That’s not so long ago.’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘It seems a long time. We’re close, I guess.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Ryan’s thoughts may as well have been in a bubble over his head. As best man, he would have to partner Hannah’s clone. Another woman who wouldn’t be on the same page. Someone else who would think he was shallow and lazy and a liability.

  Hannah opened her mouth to offer some reassurance. To finally apologise for losing it on Monday night in such an unprofessional manner. To suggest that they would both be able to have a good time at the wedding despite having each other’s company enforced.

  She didn’t get the chance.

  Her mouth opened far more widely than needed for speech as the plane hit an air pocket and seemed to drop like a rock. The fall continued long enough for someone further down the plane in economy to scream, and then they got to the bottom with a crunch and all hell broke loose.

  The big jet slewed sideways into severe turbulence. The pitch of its engine roar increased. The water glass and cutlery on Hannah’s tray slithered sideways to clatter to the floor. The seat-belt sign on the overhead panel flashed on and off repeatedly with a loud dinging noise. Oxygen masks were deployed and swung like bizarre, short pendulums. Children were shrieking and someone was calling for help. The stewardess who had been pushing the meal trolley staggered through the curtain dividing business class from the rest of the cabin, her face covered in blood. She fell into the seat beside Hannah.

  ‘I can’t see anything!’

  Hannah was still clutching her linen napkin in her hand. She pushed the tray table up and latched it, giving her space to turn to the woman beside her, who was trying to wipe the blood from her eyes.

  ‘Hold still!’ Hannah instructed. She folded the napkin into a rough pad. If her years of training and practice in emergency departments had done nothing else, Hannah would always bless the ability to focus on an emergency without going to pieces herself. ‘You’ve got a nasty cut on your forehead.’ She pressed the pad against the wound as best she could, with the plane continuing to pitch and roll.

  ‘I came down on the corner of the trolley.’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Ryan was out of his seat, hanging onto an armrest for support.

  By way of answer, calmly overriding the noise of the engines and distressed passengers, came the voice from the flight deck.

  ‘Sorry about this, folks. Bit of unexpected rough stuff. We should be through this pretty fast. Please, return to your seats and keep your belts firmly fastened for the moment.’

  Ryan ignored the direction. ‘Anyone else hurt back there?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The stewardess was leaning back in the seat, her face pale beneath smeared blood. ‘We were still serving breakfast. It’ll be a mess. I should go and help.’

  Ryan held back the curtain to look into the main body of the cabin. Clearly, he was trying to see where he might be needed most urgently. Forgetting one’s own fear and helping someone who’d happened to land in the seat beside her was nothing compared to the courage it would need to take command of the kind of chaos Hannah could imagine Ryan assessing.

  Mixed in with her admiration of his intention was a desire to prove she could also rise to the occasion. Ryan’s courage was contagious.

  ‘Hold this.’ Hannah took the hand of the stewardess and placed it over the pad. ‘Keep firm pressure on it and the bleeding will stop soon. I’ll come back and check on you in a bit.’ She unclipped her seat belt and stood up. The oxygen mask bumped her head but Hannah ignored it. The jolt from the air pocket must have caused their deployment because she wasn’t at all short of breath so the oxygen level had to be OK. Lurching sideways to get past the knees of the stewardess, Hannah found her arm firmly gripped by Ryan.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing, Hannah? Sit down and belt up.’

  ‘Help!’ A male voice was yelling loudly. ‘We need a doctor!’

  ‘Stay here,’ Ryan ordered crisply. ‘I’ll go.’

  But Hannah knew that her own courage was coming from the confidence Ryan was displaying. If he left, she might be tempted to strap herself safely back into her seat and wait for the turbulence to end.

  People needed help.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Something unusual showed in Ryan’s eyes. Did he know how terrified she was? What an effort trying to match his bravery was?

  Maybe he did. The glance felt curiously like applause. He let go of her arm and took her hand instead, to lead her through the curtain. Hannah found herself gripping his fingers. He’d only done it to save her falling if there was more turbulence, but she was going to allow herself to take whatever she needed from this physical connection. What did it matter, when it felt like they might all be going to plunge to their deaths at any moment?

  She followed Ryan through the curtain to become the new focus for dozens of terrified passengers as they moved down the aisle. Some were wearing their oxygen masks, others trying to get them on. She saw a young woman with her face in her hands, sobbing. A much older woman, nursing what looked like a fractured wrist. A nun, clutching her crucifix, her lips moving in silent prayer. The steward was waving at them from the rear of the aircraft.

  ‘Here! Help!’ he shouted. ‘I think this man’s choking.’

  ‘It’s Blair!’ Hannah exclaimed.

  Her former seat neighbour was standing, blocking the aisle. His hand was around his neck in the universal signal of distress from choking and his face was a dreadful, mottled purple.

  Ryan was moving fast. He let go of Hannah’s hand to climb over the empty seat that had init
ially been hers to get behind Blair.

  ‘I’ve tried banging him on the back,’ the steward said unhappily.

  Ryan put his arms around Blair but couldn’t grasp his fist with his other hand to perform an effective Heimlich manoeuvre. There was just too much of Blair to encompass and there was no time. The huge man was rapidly losing consciousness and there was no way Ryan could support his weight unaided.

  Blair slumped onto his back, blocking the aisle even more effectively. There was no way for anyone to move. Ryan looked up and Hannah could see he was aware of how impossible it was going to be to try and manage this emergency. She could also see that he had no intention of admitting defeat. It was a very momentary impression, however, because the plane hit another bump and Hannah went hurtling forward to land in a most undignified fashion directly on top of Blair.

  She landed hard and then used her hands on his chest to push herself upright. Blair gave a convulsive movement beneath her and Hannah slid her legs in front of her old empty seat to try and slide clear. Ryan grabbed Blair’s shoulder and heaved and suddenly Blair was on his side, coughing and spluttering. Ryan thumped him hard between his shoulder blades for good measure and the crisis was over, probably as quickly as it had begun, as Blair forcibly spat out what looked like a large section of a sausage.

  ‘Let’s sit you up,’ Ryan said firmly.

  Blair was still gasping for air and had tears streaming down his face but somehow, with the help of the steward and another passenger, they got him back into his seat. Hannah jerked the oxygen mask down to start the flow. At least one person was going to benefit from their unnecessary deployment.

  ‘We’re through the worst of it now, folks. Should be plain sailing from now on.’

  The timing of the captain’s message was enough to make Hannah smile wryly. Catching Ryan’s gaze, her smile widened.

  ‘He doesn’t know how right he is, does he?’

  Ryan grinned right back at her, with the kind of killer smile he gave to so many women. The kind that old Doris Matheson had received the other night. But it was the first time Hannah had felt the full force of it and for just a fraction of a second it felt like they had connected.

  Really connected. More than that imaginary connection Hannah had taken from the hand-holding.

  And it felt astonishingly good.

  Good enough to carry Hannah through the next hour of helping to treat the minor injuries sustained. Splinting the Colles’ fracture on the old woman’s wrist, bandaging lacerations and examining bruises.

  The other occupant of business class had been woken by the turbulence and offered his services.

  ‘I’m a neurosurgeon,’ he said. ‘Name’s Alistair Carmichael. What can I do to help?’

  ‘We’ve got a stewardess with a forehead laceration,’ Hannah told him. ‘You’re the perfect person to check and make sure she’s not showing any signs of concussion—or worse. Mostly, I think it’s going to be a matter of reassuring people.’

  Hannah made more than one stop to check that Blair wasn’t suffering any lingering respiratory distress.

  Ryan worked just as hard. The first-aid supplies on the plane were rapidly depleted but it didn’t matter. The plane was making a smooth descent into Cairns and Blair, who had been the closest to a fatal injury, was beaming.

  ‘You saved my life, darling,’ he told Hannah when he was helped from the plane at Cairns by paramedics who would take him to hospital for a thorough check-up.

  ‘Yes.’ Ryan’s voice seemed to be coming from somewhere very close to Hannah’s ear and she gave an involuntary shiver. ‘Interesting technique, that. You should write it up for a medical journal.’

  Hannah turned her head. Was he making fun of her?

  ‘The “Jackson manoeuvre”,’ Ryan said with a grin.

  Hannah was too tired to care whether he was laughing at her. And the incident had had a very funny side. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Or maybe the “Blonde’s Heimlich”?’

  Much to Ryan’s disappointment, they weren’t sitting anywhere near each other on the connecting flight to Crocodile Creek, despite the much smaller size of the aircraft. It seemed to have been taken over by a large contingent of rather excited Greek people who had to be part of Mike’s family. They were too busy talking and arguing with each other to take notice of strangers, and that suited Ryan just fine. He was tired and felt like he had too much to think about anyway.

  Fancy Hannah being able to laugh at herself like that! Or had it been some kind of dig at him? Ryan knew perfectly well how his blonde jokes got up her nose. They had become a kind of defence mechanism so that no one would guess how disappointed he was when Hannah took no notice of him. He might get a negative reaction to the jokes but at least she knew he existed.

  And what about the way she hadn’t hesitated to go and help others when she had clearly been terrified herself by the turbulence. That had taken a lot of courage. She obviously didn’t like flying. Ryan had seen the way she’d looked at the size of their connecting aircraft. He hoped she was as reassured as he had been by the information that the tropical storm was now moving out to sea and their next journey would be much smoother. They were even forecasting relatively fine weather for the rest of the day.

  ‘But make the most of it,’ the captain warned. ‘It could turn nasty again tomorrow.’

  That caused the volume of conversation around him to increase dramatically as the Greek wedding guests discussed the ramifications of bad weather. Ryan tuned out of what sounded like superstitious babble of how to overcome such a bad omen.

  Hannah was sitting as far away as it was possible to be down the back of the cabin. Had she arranged that somehow? She was beside the American neurosurgeon, Alistair, who had proved himself to be a very pleasant and competent man during the aftermath of the turbulence. Distinctive looking, too, with those silver streaks in his dark hair. He had put the jacket of his pinstriped suit back on but he was asleep again.

  There was an odd relief in noticing that. Surely any other man would find Hannah as attractive as he did? And he hadn’t known the half of it, had he? No wonder he hadn’t recognised her from behind on the larger plane. He’d only seen her with her sleek blonde hair wound up in a kind of knot thing and baggy scrubs covering her body. The tight-fitting jeans and soft white shirt she was wearing today revealed a shape as perfect as her face.

  Impossible to resist the urge to crane his neck once more and check that the American was still asleep. He was. So was Hannah, which was just as well. Ryan wouldn’t want her to know he’d stolen another glance. He settled back and dozed himself and it seemed no time until the wheels touched down on a much smaller runway than the last one.

  He was here. At the back of beyond, in Crocodile Creek. For three whole days. With Hannah Jackson. What had happened to that fierce resolve with which he had started this journey? That Hannah could go to hell because he was no longer interested? That he was completely over that insane attraction?

  It had been shaken by that turbulence, that’s what. It had gone out the window when he’d taken hold of her hand and she hadn’t pulled away. Had—amazingly—held his hand right back.

  Ryan sighed deeply and muttered inaudibly.

  ‘Let the fun begin.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HEAT hit her like a blast from a furnace door swinging open.

  Thanks to the early departure from Auckland and the time difference between Australia and New Zealand, it was the hottest part of the day when they arrived in Crocodile Creek.

  The bad weather that had made the first leg of the journey so memorable seemed to have been left well behind. The sky was an intense, cobalt blue and there were no clouds to filter the strength of the sun beating down. It was hot.

  Very hot.

  Descending the steps from the back of the small plane onto the shimmering tarmac, Hannah realised what a mistake it had been to travel in jeans.

  ‘I’m cooking!’ She told Susie by way of a greeting as she enter
ed the small terminal building. ‘How hot is it?’

  ‘Must be nearly forty degrees.’ Susie was hugging Hannah hard. ‘What on earth possessed you to wear jeans?’ She was far more sensibly dressed, in shorts, a singlet top and flip-flop sandals.

  ‘It was cold when I got up at stupid o’clock. Our flight left at 6 a.m.’ Hannah pulled back from the hug. ‘You’ve let your hair grow. It looks fabulous.’

  Susie dragged her fingers through her almost shoulder-length golden curls. ‘It’d be as long as yours now, if I bothered straightening it.’

  ‘Don’t!’ Hannah said in mock alarm. ‘If you did that, nobody would be able to tell us apart and it would be school all over again.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Susie was grinning. ‘With you getting into trouble for the things I did.’

  The noise in the small building increased markedly as the main group of passengers entered, to be greeted ecstatically by the people waiting to meet them. The loud voices, tears and laughter and exuberant hugging made Susie widen her eyes.

  ‘That’s another Poulos contingent arriving. Look at that! This wedding is a circus.’

  Why did Hannah’s gaze seek Ryan out in the crowd so instantly? As though the smallest excuse made it permissible? She turned back to Susie.

  ‘What’s your bridesmaid’s dress like?’

  ‘Pink.’

  ‘Oh, my God, you’re kidding!’

  ‘Yeah. It’s peach but it’s still over the top. Sort of a semi-meringue. Kind of like you’d expect some finalist in a ballroom dancing competition to be wearing. I could keep it to get married in myself eventually—except for the lack of originality. Five other girls will have the same outfit at home.’

  ‘Six bridesmaids?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m the most important one. Poor Emily doesn’t have any family and she only wanted two bridesmaids—me and Mike’s sister, Maria, but there were all these cousins who would have been mortally offended if they hadn’t been included and, besides, Mike’s mum, Sophia, is determined to have the wedding of the century. I think she only stopped at six because it was getting hard to find the male counterparts. Funnily enough, they weren’t so keen.’

 

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