by Fiona Lowe
Mia.
For the last few days he’d been busy running clinics on the other islands. Usually his mind was completely focussed on the place he was working on, dealing with that community’s issues, and giving scant thought to the other islands. But during the few quiet times on Mugur and Barra his mind had wandered back to Kirra and the ceremony. Back to Mia.
Back to the touch of Mia’s hands in his. Back to the flickering shadows in her eyes. Back to the way she’d given herself up to the whirlwind dance as if she’d been shedding part of her soul.
He’d watched her dance and deep inside him something had ached.
But he wasn’t thinking about that.
Whatever had caused those shadows was her secret. Everyone who came this far north had secrets. He didn’t want to know and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. Asking questions meant involvement. Asking questions opened him up to having questions asked back so he didn’t do that any more. Getting involved meant getting hurt so the only way he got involved in people’s lives now, was as their doctor.
Mia’s secrets belonged to her and he intended to let her keep them.
He turned off the ignition and logged his times in the logbook. Then he grabbed his backpack, locked the plane and walked around toward the gate.
Mia leaned against the low fence, her long, blonde hair blowing out behind her as she fanned herself with her hat.
Every nerve ending fired off a volley of hot and hard need that swooped through him, leaving no place untouched.
Her rigid stance of two weeks ago had completely vanished. Instead, an aura of relaxation shimmered around her. In the place of neat and fitted cargo shorts with a blouse tucked in at the waist, she wore a simple island print dress that fell from her shoulders, the green and blue intersecting lines giving way to a band of yellow and red turtles that hovered around her knees. Cut for comfort, designed for coolness, it should have hung like a sack.
But the oncoming breeze blew it against her, outlining pert breasts, a slim waist and toned thighs. A supple body designed for touching.
Don’t go there. He started mentally reciting the names of the bones in the body, driving some blood back to his brain from the pool in his groin. By the time he reached her, he could make coherent conversation.
He raised his brows. ‘You’ve gone native on me?’
She laughed, the shadows in her eyes lifting for a moment. ‘I know it’s not regulation uniform but a baby vomited all over me. I figured you’d prefer to share the truck with me in Susie’s spare dress than in my uniform, which reeks of curdled milk.’
‘You’ve got me pegged.’ He grinned at her. ‘It might not be uniform but it suits you.’
She gripped the dress by the side seams and held it out as she glanced down at the fabric as if she was looking at it for the first time. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ The word came out overly low despite his attempt at making it sound casual.
She flicked her gaze up, her eyes shimmering like the sea. A flash of yearning, a flare of naked need broke through the shadows for a moment before receding. His blood pounded.
Work, think of work. He spun around and walked briskly to the truck. ‘Anything happen this week that I need to know about?’
Silence met his question. He turned to see Mia walking toward him, her hips swaying in response to her relaxed gait.
She’d found her island time.
She shot him a teasing look. ‘You’re city-wired today.’
Laughter rumbled from deep inside him as she used his own words against him. ‘And you’re acclimatising.’
She shrugged and gave him a self-deprecating grin. ‘The whirlwind’s been downgraded to a light breeze. Here, catch. I’ve been driving all day.’ She tossed him the keys and hopped into the truck. ‘I even gave up on the immunisation clinic idea. Instead I had a sausage sizzle and fruit festa and I ended up immunising more children than I had on my initial list.’
He swung up next to her. ‘Good for you.’ He couldn’t get over the change in her. Not only was she more relaxed, she almost glowed with good health. Perhaps the shadows in her eyes had just been fatigue and not secrets after all. Not that he cared either way. He was just glad for her that after a few weeks away from the stress of city living she’d found her niche.
He turned the truck around and headed back toward town. ‘So what’s been happening?’
She tucked her hair back from her face. ‘I’m still experimenting with the bread idea. Jimmy is my chief taste-tester.’
He caught a waft of her tropical perfume and gripped the wheel. ‘How’s his wound?’
‘Healing really well. Do you want another set of liver-function tests and electrolytes just as a final roundup before he’s officially discharged off the books?’
‘That’s probably a good idea considering the history of kidney disease on the island.’ He had to concentrate on keeping his eyes on the road rather than snatching glances at Mia.
‘Oh, and we had a brawl and I had to stitch a few people.’
Startled, he swung his head around so quickly his neck ricked. Her matter-of-fact tone almost implied she’d added that fact in as an afterthought.
Were you safe? His heart jumped as the unexpected thought rammed through him, pushing aside his usual and immediate need to know about the patients. Completely disconcerting him.
He tried to sound casual as he stared at the road. ‘Was Robbo around?’ The policeman had a large territory and he wasn’t always in town when trouble broke out.
She twisted her hair up off her neck and slid in a wide comb to hold it in place. ‘Yes, and he dealt with it all very quickly.’
Relief spread through him. ‘Good.’ The word came out crisp, clean and professional. The doctor in him was back in control and all was well in his world. ‘Who was hurt?’
She crossed her legs, and her dress moved up, exposing a honey-tanned thigh.
He gripped the wheel more tightly.
Mia tugged at her hem. ‘No one you would know. Six young blokes from Brisbane flew in for a few days’ fishing. They got into a fight with a couple of local lads over some women. I stitched them up, wrote a referral letter to their doctors and Robbo sent two of them back to Darwin and warned the others. It’s all been very quiet since.’
He smiled at her. ‘It sounds like you’re well and truly finding your feet and you didn’t miss me at all.’
What are you saying? He hadn’t flirted with a woman in two years so why was he starting now?
‘Actually, I did miss you.’ The words vibrated deeply around the cab of the truck.
The wheels hit a pothole he’d been planning to miss. He snatched another look at her face, trying to match the statement with her expression.
Cornflower-blue eyes sparkled. ‘I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since you left.’ She touched a reddened area on the back of her hand. ‘That coffee-machine of yours hates me and spits steam at me. I don’t think I could have waited another day for you to get back because my lack of caffeine is giving me the shakes.’
A rush of lightness streaked through him and he had a crazy desire to hum. He grinned, enjoying her sense of humour. ‘Forget all about saving lives, it’s good to know I’m missed for something really important.’
‘Coffee is important.’ Her face dissolved into deep laughter lines in complete contrast to the serious tone of her voice, and she giggled like a young girl.
He laughed with her as warmth spread through him like a rising sun sending out its rays, slowly waking up parts of him that had slumbered for too long. This woman had more facets to her than a crystal.
Suddenly she gripped the doorhandle, her knuckles white. ‘Stop the truck. Now!’
Her voice sharp and furious sliced through him and he instantly jammed on the brakes. ‘What’s wr—?’
But she’d jumped out of the still-moving truck and was running through the scrub, dodging cycads, their silver fronds glinting in the sun. He caught a flash of colour and realised
that a Kirri teenager was pulling back away from a non-Kirri man whose hand tightly gripped her upper arm.
‘Hey!’ Mia’s shout blew back to him on the wind.
The man swung around to face Mia, his balance unsteady, his expression surprised. His free hand held a shotgun.
Flynn saw the gun at the same moment the truck stopped. Fear for Mia’s safety gripped the pit of his stomach as acid shot into it. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to run, ready to fight, ready to knock Mia out of harm’s way. But instinct overruled impulse. Accosting a man who held a gun and who looked high on an unknown substance would put Mia and the girl in more danger than they already were.
The man’s grip must have loosened on the girl’s arm at Mia’s shout because she suddenly ducked and weaved behind Mia, before breaking into a run and disappearing into the bush.
Flynn’s chest tightened as if a steel band had closed around his ribcage. How would the man react now the girl had fled? With his eyes glued to the scene he radioed the police.
As he slipped quietly out of the truck, Flynn heard Mia speak, her voice remarkably steady. ‘I thought you were here to fish, Joel?’
Flynn realised this must be one of the fishing tourists.
Joel staggered toward Mia. ‘That’s right, sweetheart.’ His slurred words tumbled over each other.
Mia stood perfectly still. ‘This is a long way from the water and too close to town to hunt.’ Her head inclined towards the gun.
Joel looked down at his hand as if the gun was something he wasn’t expecting to be holding. ‘I came in for some…’ He scratched his head. ‘Supplies.’
She kept her hands open and her arms hanging loosely by her sides. ‘You’re looking a bit hot and tired. I’ve got some water in the truck. Would you like a drink?’
That was Flynn’s entrée into the situation. He grabbed the water bottles and walked slowly toward Mia and Joel, the bottles in front of him, clearly in view.
Joel’s unfocussed gaze wandered from Mia to Flynn. ‘Have you got any beer, mate?’
Now didn’t seem the time to remind Joel it was illegal to have alcohol on Kirra except in the club. He adopted the conspiratorial tone of two blokes on a mission. ‘I can take you into town for some.’ He handed over a water bottle.
‘Yeah? Good. At least I can go back to the boys with beer. The girl got away.’ He leered at Mia and then rubbed his eyes as if that would help improve his focus.
Flynn caught the pinprick size of his pupils and wondered if he’d consumed more than just beer.
Tension lined Mia’s face but her voice sounded conversational. ‘I’m boiling. Let’s get into the cool of the truck.’
Placing himself firmly between Mia and Joel, Flynn made sure they all turned together, making their way back to the vehicle. ‘So, have you caught any barramundi?’ Flynn tried to sound as normal as possible, his eyes fixed on the gun.
But Joel remained silent, concentrating on the seemingly difficult task of putting one foot in front of the other.
Mia walked next to him, the scent of her fear mixing with her perfume. He knew how she felt. The unpredictability of the man made every moment like walking through a minefield, never knowing if or when the bomb would go off.
As they reached the truck, Flynn pointed to the gun box and prayed his gambit would work. ‘I’ll stow your gun in the back for safekeeping.’ He could feel Mia’s penetrating gaze behind him and he knew exactly what the target was.
Joel’s brow furrowed as he processed the statement. He slowly raised the gun, his hand close to the trigger.
Flynn held his breath, not daring to look away from Joel. Wanting desperately to look at Mia.
‘There you go, mate.’ Joel pushed the gun into his hands.
‘Thanks.’ Flynn locked his knees against the desire to sag against the truck. He immediately uncocked the gun, checking for ammunition before laying it in the gun box. A red cartridge full of shot lay inside the barrel. His gut churned acid into his throat at what might have been.
The roar of an engine made them all turn. A white four-wheel-drive police vehicle pulled up next to them. Robbo hopped out. ‘Need a hand, Flynn?’
Relief flooded him. ‘That would be great. I’ve got a customer for you. And I think you might want to talk to Lizzie Wonterrgerra later to see if she wants to lay a complaint about this man.’
Five minutes later Robbo drove back to town with Joel in the back of the vehicle. Flynn had promised to call by the police lockup and do a physical examination before Joel and his mates were put on a plane back to the mainland.
Running his hand through his hair, he turned to Mia, his fear finally finding voice. ‘What possessed you to run into a potentially violent situation? You could have been killed!’
She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘But I wasn’t. Besides, when your number’s up, it’s up.’ She tossed her head, and her hair tumbled from its comb, cascading across her shoulders. ‘Obviously it wasn’t my time.’
‘Your time?’ He tried unsuccessfully to keep his voice level at this fey belief. ‘But that’s crazy thinking. You don’t willingly put yourself into dangerous situations and say it’s fate.’
‘I didn’t know he had a gun.’ Her eyes shone overly bright as her hands balled into tight fists by her side. ‘Anyway, if you’d seen him pulling that girl you would have done the same thing. I acted on instinct.’
He couldn’t make her out. Her reaction defied all logic. ‘No, you acted on impulse, and they’re two completely different things. Impulse is without thought. Your brain processes them differently.’
She immediately stilled and stared at him, panic suddenly flaring in her eyes, the shadows that dogged her reappearing.
What the hell was going on?
Her face drained of colour, her rosy cheeks fading to white on white, and her entire body started to shudder.
Shock.
Damn it. In a heartbeat she’d gone from shrugging off facing down a man with a gun into shock. He grabbed a blanket from the truck, quickly wrapping it around her trembling shoulders and pulled her close.
Getting involved as a doctor. Giving a patient support.
His arms tightened around her, his body absorbing her tremors. Absorbing her heat.
Her tremors subsided.
The doctor would step back now.
But her warmth rolled through him, sparking a slow, burning heat. Heat that built in intensity, generating an undeniable need. A need that kept her in his arms.
Her head rested under his chin, the silky strands of her hair soft against his skin. Her sweet scent tickled his nostrils, tempting him.
He lowered his face into her hair, breathing deeply, inhaling the complex aroma that was Mia. He stroked her hair, tucking stray strands behind her ear. ‘Hell, Mia, you gave me a fright.’
‘I didn’t mean to put you in danger.’ She slowly raised her head, and brought her hand to his cheek, her fingers stroking with a feather-light touch. ‘I’m sorry.’
Jolts of need, like sparks of electricity, zigzagged through his body. He looked down into eyes wide with contrition, backlit with tangled and swirling emotions. He recognised need.
Her head tilted upward, and her lush bottom lip quivered, calling to him.
Two weeks of self-control vanished. He stifled a groan and lowered his mouth.
His lips touched hers and his mind blanked to everything except the touch of her mouth against his. Soft, pliant lips that tasted of bush plums and adrenaline. Lips that grazed and stroked his, the lightest touch sending spirals of pure need, white and hot ripping through him.
His hand curled gently around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, wanting to hold her against him, have her mouth melded to his.
All space between them vanished. He swallowed her moan as her body pressed against his, the cotton dress too thin to be any real barrier. Her arms rose and ringed his neck, pushing her breasts hard against his chest, and her thigh
s tensed against his own.
He sought to deepen the kiss, to plunder her mouth, to take what his body craved so badly. His tongue flicked against her lips.
For an infinitesimal moment, Mia sagged against him, opening her mouth to his and giving.
The gift stunned him with its intensity.
And then she pulled back and it was gone.
How could you miss something you’d barely had?
* * *
Using every ounce of strength, Mia stepped back out of Flynn’s embrace. Away from his lips, which had scorched the flimsy barricades she’d put up to protect herself from him. Away from his warmth and his comfort. Away from his heartbeat, which had pounded against her chest, regular and strong, his life force transferring itself to her, making her body respond in ways that would only bring her more heartache.
You acted on impulse. Impulse is without thought. His words pummelled her, their accuracy piercing. Memories of her mother’s legendary shopping trips flooded her—impulse buying on a grand scale. Sixty-three CDs in half an hour, the three cars she’d bought one Saturday afternoon because she hadn’t been able to decide on the colour and the scarfs she’d shoplifted. All of them had been signs. The start of her mother’s decline, the start of her dementia.
You’re twenty-six. Mia rallied her common sense, reminding herself that her mother had almost been forty when her first symptoms had appeared.
‘Mia?’ Flynn’s husky voice broke into her thoughts. ‘You’ve gone pale again.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’
Panic fluttered in her gut. She didn’t talk about her mother. Not to anyone. She had to deflect him. ‘Nothing’s going on. Well, obviously not nothing.’ She wrung her hands, words pouring from her mouth in a gabble. ‘I mean there was Joel, the gun, and I kissed you.’ She shrugged. ‘Sorry about that, blame the shock. It won’t happen again. I mean, I’m the RAN, you’re the doctor and—’
‘You don’t have to apologise.’ His voice had a cool edge to it despite his seemingly understanding smile. ‘These things happen during stressful situations. Come on, I’ll take you home.’
She nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She should feel relieved that the kiss had been talked about, dealt with and dismantled. But the remnants of it still lingered in her body, not so easily dismissed.