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

by Meredith Webber

  The creek was more like a raging torrent and the wind was whipping up small waves on its swift-moving surface. The strings of fairy-lights adorning the exterior of the Athina were seriously challenging the staples holding them in place and Mike heroically gathered Emily’s dress together to scoop his bride into his arms and carry her the short distance from the car to the restaurant doors.

  Huge, fat drops of rain were starting to fall but Mike moved fast enough to prevent Emily’s dress getting damp.

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ She laughed. ‘Sophia will be feeling my dress the moment she walks in.’

  ‘Let me check.’ Mike ran his hands down the embroidered bodice of the dress and then yanked Emily close. Laughing again, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face for a kiss.

  Ryan’s voice was close to Hannah’s ear. Too close.

  ‘They have a good rapport, don’t they? Just like us.’

  Hannah swallowed hard. Even his voice was enough to stir desire. A sharp yearning that was painful because she couldn’t allow herself to respond.

  ‘Later,’ Ryan murmured. The word was spoken too softly for anyone else to overhear.

  ‘No!’

  She hadn’t expected her response to come out with such vehemence but the promise Ryan’s word had contained was too much. Pull the plug, her brain was screaming. Now!

  The momentary freezing on Ryan’s part was strong enough for Hannah to sense his shock at the rebuttal but there was no time to try and soften the rejection with any kind of explanation or excuse. The second and third cars from the church had pulled up and Mike’s parents spilled out, along with several more clouds of peach-tulled women and dark-suited men.

  ‘Your dress!’ Sophia wailed. ‘Let me feel your dress, darling! Is it wet?’

  ‘No, it’s completely dry. See?’ Emily did a twirl in front of the mass of wedding presents piled up in the restaurant entrance.

  Mike’s father, George Poulos, beamed happily. ‘Inside. Everybody inside. Our guests are arriving. It’s time to eat, drink and be merry!’

  The next hour was a blur of posing for the photographer and then introductions amongst a loud, happy crowd who were determined to ignore the shocking conditions outside. The howl of the wind, the intermittent thunder of rain on the roof and the crash of huge waves on the beach below the restaurant windows were largely drowned out by the enthusiastic live band and even more enthusiastic guests.

  Hannah did her best to ignore the rather dark glances that were coming her way from Ryan. It was easy to avoid him by talking to other people. Like Grace, the young nurse with the blue ribbon in her hair.

  ‘It’s been my job to try and keep Mrs P. calm,’ she told Hannah. Blue eyes that matched her ribbon rolled in mock exasperation. ‘As if! Don’t be at all surprised if there are a few doves flying around in here later.’

  ‘Plates!’ Mike’s father carried a stack past them, weaving through a circle of dancers. ‘For later,’ he threw over his shoulder at Hannah and Grace. ‘Don’t tell Sophia.’

  ‘I’d better distract her. Excuse me.’ Grace hurried away.

  ‘Opa!’ someone shouted.

  A chorus of echoes rippled through the room and Hannah saw a lot of small glasses being raised to lips.

  ‘Ouzo?’ A waiter had a tray of the small glasses, as well as the more traditional champagne flutes.

  ‘Maybe later.’ Hannah was having trouble trying to keep her head clear enough to remember all the names and she knew she would have to keep it clear to deal with the conversation that was bound to occur with Ryan.

  He was right behind the waiter. ‘What did you mean, “No”? “No”, what?’

  ‘I meant “no” to later,’ she said with a resigned sigh.

  ‘But I thought … is something wrong, Hannah?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Hannah smiled—reassuringly, she hoped. She would have to work with Ryan. She didn’t want to offend him. ‘Last night was lovely. Great fun.’

  ‘Fun?’ Ryan was staring at her. He had no right to look so shocked. Surely he did this kind of thing all the time? A bit of fun. Move on.

  ‘This is Harry.’ Grace had returned to where Hannah was standing, staring dumbly back at Ryan. ‘He’s our local policeman here in the cove. Hi.’ She smiled at Ryan. ‘You did a good job as best man.’

  ‘I do an even better job at dancing.’ Ryan’s killer smile flashed as he extended his hand. ‘Come on, let me show you.’

  It was a snub, Hannah realised as Ryan turned away with Grace on his arm without a backwards glance. He was offended for some reason.

  Harry was staring after the couple as though he didn’t approve any more than Hannah did, but then they managed to smile at each other. In fact, it wasn’t that difficult for Hannah to smile. A glow of something like pleasure curled within her. He had liked being with her, then. It had been good enough for him to want more.

  If she wasn’t so weak, she would have wanted it herself. How wonderful would it be to sink into a relationship with someone like Ryan and enjoy it for what it was? An interlude. One that would set the standard for the best that sex and probably companionship could offer. But to do it without losing too much of her heart and soul?

  Impossible.

  He would wreck her life eventually.

  She would end up like her mother, settling for something that was better than nothing. Learning to enjoy fishing.

  Or alone, like Susie, unable to find anyone that excited her as much as the first man who had really stolen her heart.

  Harry was telling her something. Hannah made an effort to focus on the tall, good-looking man with a flop of black hair and a worried expression.

  ‘I’m trying to keep tabs on what’s happening with Willie,’ he told her. ‘They’re making noises about upgrading it from a category 3 to a 4.’

  ‘Is that serious?’

  Harry nodded. ‘Cyclones are all dangerous. ‘Specially Aussie ones—they’re known for exhibiting a more erratic path than cyclones in other parts of the world. The higher the number, the more danger they represent. A category 3 is a severe tropical cyclone. You can get wind gusts up to 224 kilometres per hour and can expect roof and structural damage, and a likely power failure.’

  ‘The slates were certainly flying off the church.’

  ‘There’s a few people with tarps on their roofs already. They’ll lose them if things get any worse.’

  ‘And they’re expected to?’

  ‘It’s been upgraded to a 4. It’s running parallel to the coast at the moment but if it turns west we’ll be in trouble. A 4 has winds up to 279 kilometres per hour. You’ll get significant structural damage, dangerous airborne debris and widespread power failures.’

  As though to underline Harry’s sombre tone, the lights inside the Athina flickered, but there was still enough daylight for it not to matter and they came back on almost immediately.

  ‘I’m with the SES—State Emergency Services,’ Harry finished. ‘In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I should make a call and see what’s happening.’

  Just as Harry disappeared, Ryan emerged from an animated group of Greek women nearby.

  ‘Fun?’ he queried with quiet menace. ‘Is that all it was for you, Hannah? Fun?’

  This was disconcerting. She would have expected a shrugged response from Ryan by now. A ‘there’s plenty more fish in the sea’ kind of attitude.

  ‘It was fun.’ She tried to smile. To break the tension. ‘But we both know it could never be any more than that.’

  ‘Do we?’ Ryan held her gaze. Challenging her. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Ryan.’ Hannah looked for an escape. Someone to talk to. A new introduction. Where was Susie when she needed her? Nothing seemed readily available. They were marooned. A little island of hostility that was keeping all the happy people away with an invisible force field. ‘We’re not on the same page, remember?’

  ‘Obviously not,’ Ryan snapped. ‘There I was thinking that we had m
ade a fresh start. The start of something that could actually be meaningful.’

  Meaningful? Oh, help! It would be so easy to believe that. Hannah so wanted to believe it. To believe she could be the one to tame this particular ‘bad boy’. To have him love her so much he would be content to settle down and never get bored.

  The wheelchair arrived beside them so smoothly neither had noticed.

  ‘I’m Charles Wetherby,’ the man said unnecessarily. ‘I must apologise for this awful weather Crocodile Creek is turning on for you. I hope you’re still managing to enjoy yourselves.’

  Hannah had the weird feeling that Charles had known exactly how much they were enjoying themselves and was there to do something to defuse the atmosphere.

  Ryan controlled the flash of an ironic smile and managed to introduce both himself and Hannah to Charles without missing a beat.

  And then he excused himself, as though he couldn’t stand being in Hannah’s company any longer.

  He was hurt, she realised. She hadn’t expected that at all. It was confusing. Why would he be hurt … unless he was being honest. Unless he really had thought there was something meaningful going on.

  No. He might think that—for now. He might even believe it long enough for Hannah to trust it, but he was a type, wasn’t he? He was, what, in his mid-thirties? At least a couple of years older than she was, given his professional experience. If he was into commitment he wouldn’t still be playing the field. And what about Michaela? Was she someone who had believed in him and had now been discarded?

  Hannah had to paste a smile onto her face to talk to Charles.

  ‘You look so like Susie,’ he was saying. ‘It’s a real treat. Must be wonderful to have a sibling that you’re so close to.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Uncle Charles! Look at me! I’m dancing!’

  The small blonde flower girl who had been sitting on Charles’s knee during the ceremony was part of a circle of dancers, between two adults. She wasn’t watching the steps any more because her head was twisted in Hannah’s direction and she had a huge smile on her face.

  ‘This way, Lily.’ Mike’s sister, Maria, had hold of one of Lily’s hands. ‘We go this way now.’

  ‘Opa!’ The cry to signal a new round of toasting the bridal couple rang out.

  ‘Ouzo?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ Hannah shook her head at the attentive waiter. Lily had given her an excuse to watch the dancers and Ryan was now part of the circle. So was Mike. And then the circle disintegrated as Sophia bustled through.

  ‘Eat! Eat! The food will be getting cold.’

  Ryan and Mike took no notice. With an arm around each other’s shoulders and their other arms extended, they were stepping in a dance of their own. Happy. Relaxed. The bond of a deep friendship was obvious to everyone and they all approved. They were clapping and stamping their feet in time with the music and calling encouragement.

  And then George was on the dance floor, a plate in each hand.

  ‘No!’ Sophia cried.

  But the sound of smashing crockery only brought a roar of approval and more people back to the dance floor.

  Hannah turned away. She spotted Susie sitting with a very pregnant woman. They had plates of food from the buffet.

  Not that Hannah felt hungry. Watching Mike and Ryan dance had left her with a curious sense of loss. How long had Ryan known his best friend? Ten years? More? Their bond appeared unshakable. Mike trusted him completely.

  But Mike wasn’t a woman. The ending of a friendship, however close, could never destroy someone as much as the ending of the most intimate relationship it was possible to have.

  It was really quite straightforward so why was her heart winning the battle with her head right now?

  Why did she feel this sense of loss? As though she had just made a terrible mistake?

  Because it was already too late. She was in love with this man.

  She was already prepared to believe in him.

  And if he gave her another chance, she would take it.

  Take the risk.

  Do whatever it took to spend as much time as possible with him. In bed and out of it.

  The rest of her life, even.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THIS had to be the ultimate putdown.

  And he had only himself to blame.

  It had only been one night. Hannah Jackson was only one of hundreds of women Ryan had met since he’d grown up enough to be interested in the opposite sex. Thousands, even, and he’d dated a fair few in those early years. Slept with enough to know how rare it was to find a woman who could be both intellectually and physically stimulating.

  He could have dealt with that attraction, however powerful it had been, when that was all it was. Moved on with maybe just a shrug of regret. But Hannah had taken down that barrier. Taken him by the hand and shown him a place he had never been to before. A place he didn’t want to leave.

  And now she was shoving him out. Had put that barrier back up and…. it hurt, dammit! Nobody had ever treated him like this before—and she’d accused him of being shallow? What reason did she have? She might have been hurt in the past, he reminded himself. Some bastard might have treated her badly enough to leave scars that hadn’t healed yet.

  No. It didn’t matter how good the reason might be. Or how fresh the scars. Why the hell would he set himself up for another kick in the guts like the one she’d just delivered? With a smile, no less. A damning with faint praise.

  Fun? Like a night out? A party? A game of tennis?

  ‘What’s up, mate?’ Mike’s fingers dug into his shoulder. ‘You look like you’re at a funeral, not a wedding.’

  ‘Sorry. Miles away.’

  ‘Not in a happy place, by the look of that scowl. Forget it. Come and eat. The lamb’s wonderful and Ma will be force-feeding you soon if she doesn’t see you holding a plate.’

  ‘Good idea. And I think a drink or two is overdue as well.’

  ‘Just don’t get trollied before you have to make that speech and tell everyone how wonderful I am.’

  Ryan laughed. ‘More like seeing how many stories of your disreputable past I can dredge up. What time am I on?’

  ‘Just before the cake-cutting. I think Ma’s got it down for about 8:30 p.m.’

  ‘Cool. Gives me half an hour to see how much I can remember. What was the name of that girl in Bali? The one with all the tattoos?’

  ‘Don’t you dare! You might get Em worried I haven’t settled down.’

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘No question, mate. I’ll never look at another woman. I’ve found the one for me. Oh, great—a slow song! Catch you later. Go and eat. I’m hanging out for a waltz with my wife.’

  Lucky man, Ryan thought, watching Emily’s face light up as Mike reached her and the way she seemed to float dreamily in his arms as they found a space on the dance floor.

  Lucky, lucky man.

  The lights had flickered more than once in the last hour but this time they went out and stayed out.

  Hannah, sitting with Susie, the very pregnant doctor called Christina and her gorgeous, dark-skinned husband Joe, who had turned out to be a fellow New Zealander, had also been watching the bridal couple dance. And Harry and Grace, who were dancing towards the edge of the crowd. And the woman who hadn’t taken off that extraordinary purple hat with the huge flowers.

  ‘That’s Dora for you,’ Susie was saying. ‘She’s so proud of that hat she’ll probably wear it when she’s polishing floors at the hospital for the next week or—’

  She stopped as the room plunged into semi-darkness. The candles on tables provided only a dim light that would take a few moments to adjust to. People were just shadowy figures. The dancing had stopped and there was an uncertain kind of milling about, both on the dance floor and around the tables. The couple who were not moving at all in the corner caught more than Hannah’s attention.

  ‘Who is that?’ Susie whispered loudly. ‘I can’t see in this lig
ht.’

  ‘Whoever they are, they seem to like each other.’ Joe grinned.

  Susie winked at Hannah. ‘Yeah. I’d say they’ve got a pretty good rapport all right.’

  Hannah elbowed her sister. A reminder of what had started this small life crisis she was experiencing was not welcome.

  They found out who the male of the pair was almost immediately, as Charles Wetherby rolled past their table accompanied by a young police officer who was holding a candelabrum. The flames on several candles were being dragged backwards to leave little smoke trails due to the speed with which the men were moving.

  ‘Harry Blake!’ The tone was urgent enough for conversation to die amongst everyone within earshot and the reaction to it spread rapidly. A lot of people could hear what Charles had to say as Harry seemed to attempt to shield the woman he’d been kissing so passionately by steering her further into the dark corner and then striding forward to meet the hospital’s medical director.

  ‘Bus accident up on the mountain road,’ Hannah heard him say.

  ‘I think it was Grace he was kissing,’ Susie whispered. ‘Woo-hoo!’

  ‘Shh!’ Hannah warned. ‘This sounds serious.’

  Joe’s chair scraped as he got up and moved towards the knot of men. Christina’s bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she laid a protective hand, instinctively, on her swollen belly. Tension and urgency were radiating strongly from their centre of focus.

  Everybody who could hear was listening avidly. Others were trying to find out what was being said.

  ‘What’s going on?’ someone called.

  ‘Why are the police here?’

  ‘Why haven’t the lights come back on?’

  ‘The hospital’s four-wheel drive is on its way here to pick up whatever hospital staff you think you might need on site. Have you seen Grace? If we’ve got to set up a triage post and then get people off the side of the mountain, we’ll probably need an SES crew up there, as well….’

  Mike was heading towards the expanding knot of male figures. So was Ryan. Hannah got to her feet. If this was a major incident, they would need all the medical expertise available.