The Last Heartbeat

by Katerina Simms

  Dear Reader,

  If The Last Heartbeat got your heart stirring, then be sure to indulge in the highly-emotional second book in the Love at Last series, The Last Place You Look.

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  The Last Place You Look

  Love at Last, Book 2

  She wants a new life. He just wants to live. Love is found in the most unlikely place…

  Budding psychiatrist Sophie Tindall, on the run from her predictable life, escapes to the small Australian town of Roseford.

  * * *

  At just thirty-six-years-old, Orlando Piras is Roseford Aged Care’s youngest resident. Once worldly and daring, his now regimented existence makes him a hostile thorn in everyone’s side—especially when it comes to his new volunteer visitor—the annoyingly inquisitive Sophie Tindall.

  * * *

  But just like so much of his life, his true feelings for Sophie must remain a secret. Sweet, smart, beautiful, with a cruel ability to awaken hope, she’s everything he’s ever wanted, and now can’t have.

  * * *

  Every day his condition worsens. And even as Sophie begins to see Orlando as the man to change her forever, she is the one with just three months to save his life.

  For fans of Me Before You and Archer’s Voice.

  * * *

  Buy The Last Place You Look to indulge in this soul-stirring journey today!

  * * *

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at the second novel in the Love at Last series, The Last Place You Look.

  The Last Place You Look (SAMPLE)

  Chapter One

  “Oh dear, I think you might be too qualified for me.”

  Sophie Tindall adjusted her smile at Warren, the seemingly sweet octogenarian with faded blue eyes and a grin that turned his paper-thin skin into a concertina.

  “I hope not.” Her attention skittered around the packed common room at Roseford Aged Care Facility. Maybe Warren was right. Maybe her decision to volunteer here was an odd choice. “I might have a medical degree, but I still have six years of psychiatry training to complete when I return home to the UK. There’s always more to learn.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, dear, I’m glad you’ve been matched with me.” He gestured to all the other elderly residents and their volunteer visitors at the gray Formica tables around him, then shot her a wink, along with a chuckle. His rough-but-cheery demeanor reminded her of her late father. “I’m the envy of every other codger in here. I’m not complaining.”

  She returned his laughter and sent her gaze once more across the room. The hum of chatter ricocheted off the cream-colored walls, and the musky scent of people mixed with the light burn of antiseptic floor cleaner. She opened her mouth, about to thank Warren for the compliment, when her stare slammed into a set of deep, espresso eyes.

  Her heart stammered, but she turned back to Warren, ignoring the rugged, younger man appraising her from across the room.

  “You’re doing me a favor, really.” She widened her smile, the expression a strain against her hammering pulse. “I plan to use some of my free time in Australia to meet people from your demographic. You see, I want to specialize in geriatric psychiatry.”

  He clapped his hands in exaggerated delight, leaning back in his seat, oblivious to the beautiful stranger staring her down from behind him. “Ahh. So, I’m your guinea pig then?”

  She nodded and chanced another look at the starer, a man perhaps in his mid-thirties, sitting next to a woman who appeared to be in her late sixties. She was a little on the younger side for an aged care resident, but it wasn’t unheard of.

  Sophie refocused on Warren, vowing to set the starer aside for now. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.” Warren interlaced his fingers over his generous belly. “I could listen to your lovely accent all day. Tell me, what part of the UK do you come from?”

  “I live in London, but I’m Scarborough born and raised, sir.”

  The muscles behind her eyes hurt from fighting the compulsion to watch the man behind Warren again. The heat and mystery in the stranger’s dark gaze called straight to the core of why she’d come to Australia. To live a little. To embark on an adventure. Don’t sugar coat this, Sophie. You want to get laid.

  Electricity zipped up her spine, and she shivered at the blunt self-confession.

  “Sir?” Warren huffed out a laugh, kindly eyes glittering anew. “Oh, you are a dear, but plain old Warren will serve just fine. We’re soon-to-be-friends, aren’t we?”

  The tension dropped from her shoulders. He had a point; she was here to befriend him, and despite Mr. Dark and Mysterious staring her down—despite her inclination toward staunch professionalism—she could afford to relax a little.

  She jutted her chin toward the self-serve tea station. “Say, how about I get us a cup of tea, and then we can get to know each other better?”

  He gave a quick nod of approval. “I’ll have a white with two sugars. Thanks.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the rough, crimson fabric on her chair’s armrests and pushed herself to standing. “Coming right up.”

  Even as she walked, she sensed the sexy stranger’s glare burn into her back. Or maybe it was more a hope than a sense. That those alluring, chocolate-noir eyes hadn’t left her. That he followed her with as much intrigue as she had for him.

  She approached the tea station, and her stomach clenched. She was a bonafide-nerd, someone who preferred books over booty calls. She had no place feeling excitement over this guy’s notice. Nothing in her past prepared her for how to connect with a man as rugged and handsome as the one who’d wrenched her attention just minutes earlier.

  His warm, olive skin and enigmatic gaze alone demanded notice, much less that coarse-but-still-sexy, indented scar along the top left of his forehead. She hadn’t yet found the nerve to appraise his lips, though she figured when she did that they, too, would offer a promise of easy confidence and great sex.

  A shiver worked up her spine at the word sex.

  Okay sure, she was overanalyzing what were a couple of split-second glances, but overanalyzing was ingrained into her personality. Besides, her body recognized his intensity and hoped he’d maybe share a small degree of attraction toward her, too.

  She filled two paper cups with boiled water and held one in her hand to warm her palm, leaving the other to sit on the table while the tea steeped. For so long, her life had consisted of one safe choice after another—anything to keep from rocking the foundations of trust she’d decimated amongst her family so many years ago.

  But she’d tossed aside safe choices the day she decided to come to Australia.

  Her thoughts looped over her reasons for being here. Those reasons were two-pronged. First, she’d wanted to embark on informal volunteer work while she had some rare time to do so. Second, she’d ended a four-year relationship with Hector Winthrop in order to escape the mundane life she’d built for herself back at home. A life of predictable relationships and musty text books—a life now dedicated to playing catch-up on a great deal of personal discovery.

  Any decent psychiatrist worth their salt needed life experience. And just like any decent psychiatrist, she also needed to make peace with her hang-ups—to do away with caution and find some freedom.

  She would let life rough her up a little—or perhaps, again—but with a lot less carnage this time.

  Maybe the sleepy town of Roseford wasn’t the most daring place to start. But Luke, her tech CEO brother, had been kind enough to offer her free use of his country cabin. As a cash-strapped student, she’d jumped at the chance. F
rom there, she’d been lucky to scrape together enough funds for plane tickets, a hire car, and a bit of spending money.

  She’d already lived in a major city back home, so drew the line at residing under Luke’s nose at his Melbourne home. And Roseford’s big, community aged care facility, with its volunteer program, meant she could work on her people skills. So maybe living in the sticks would be a welcome change after all.

  “Want to grab a drink?”

  She jolted, reining in her shock just in time to avoid spilling hot tea on her black leggings.

  Burnt umber eyes glinted mere inches from her own. Mr. Dark and Mysterious’s gaze did a slow glide over her body. Like a man full of devious, delicious secrets. Like a man imagining her naked. Though whatever he imagined probably didn’t match the reality of what hid beneath her olive-green tunic—a pair of sensible, beige-cotton underwear with a stupidly high waist.

  She lowered her teacup to the table. “I. Ah. You’re asking me out?”

  Full lips curved higher. “I mean, not now. After the old timers clear out.”

  His soft rumble wafted over her like smooth butterscotch, and he stood a little too close. But even his close proximity added an air of natural intimacy.

  This guy. With his dark scent of incense and sandalwood. He smelled like an ancient church. Sacred and arcane. Or maybe just a really manly soap. And even though his thick, inky curls sat a little scruffy, and his loose, gray sweat pants were a tad on the overly casual side, he still managed to resemble a sexy version of Lucifer—tall, with imposing physicality—minus the horns and gnashing teeth.

  This guy probably enjoyed red lace and hot times, not a med student in high-waisted underwear and a bad case of repressed sexuality.

  She took a sharp swallow at the lump in her throat and searched for her ability to reply. This would be her first, and maybe only, chance at exploring her wild-and-sexy side…

  Do I even have a wild-and-sexy side?

  Then again, she’d taken risks on men in the past. Long ago. Before Hector—who’d been a whole other mistake unto himself...

  “Are you sure?” Her brow tightened with the counterproductive question, but she couldn’t stop from voicing her doubt. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  Why am I killing this exchange? I should throw myself at him. Take whatever’s on offer and say yes.

  “I thought the whole point of grabbing a drink was to get to know each other.” He dipped his chin, and those deep brown eyes set forth a challenge—as if he knew more about her than she knew of herself. “But I’m happy to skip the drink and get straight to taking each other’s clothes off, if that’s what you’d prefer…”

  His lip crept up on one side. She glanced away, face hot, heart thundering. Why hadn’t she thought to splash out on some serious red lace lingerie before embarking on this trip?

  “Um…” She cleared her throat, attempting to play cool. “Maybe let’s start with that drink.”

  His eyes glinted, and he gave a quick nod, then turned away, calling over his shoulder, “Catch you later.”

  He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. The older woman he’d been sitting beside glared at Sophie.

  Sophie loaded herself with cups of tea and scampered over to Warren. His kindly eyes narrowed as she handed him his cup. “That boy is pure trouble. You’d be wise to stay away from him.”

  Sure, maybe Warren’s heart was in the right place, and going on a date with a fellow volunteer held the potential to complicate things should they not get along, but Sophie was a beggar and couldn’t afford to be choosey. Not when she’d found an incredibly attractive opportunity for adventure right here in Roseford. And if this opportunity worked out, she wouldn’t have to bother with long trips to Melbourne just to get some action.

  She waved a dismissive hand, a wave that said a strait-laced woman like her knew better than to engage in any trouble with a man like the one she’d just met. Gosh, she’d accepted a date from someone and hadn’t even grabbed his name… Oh well, Warren had to be wrong; no one who was “pure trouble” would spend their time volunteering at an aged care facility.

  “Never mind him.” She refocused on Warren, leaning in. “Tell me about you.”

  Warren went on to explain about his life. She held a polite smile and nodded at his stories about his family and a long career in metal welding, which had eased off into a newfound passion for small-scale wire sculpturing, all the while dispersing her own input into the conversation.

  Just as her pulse finally came down from her earlier excitement, her two-hour window with Warren ended, and in an instant, her pulse picked up again.

  Mr. Dark and Mysterious would be waiting for her. She had a date with someone supposedly experienced in trouble. Someone who might be able to show her the way…

  She stood and patted Warren’s shoulder, promising to return with the other volunteers in two days’ time.

  It’s only a drink. I can do this. Or bail if I really can’t.

  A care worker wheeled in a cart with blue lunch trays, while Sophie waited at the common room’s exit, one of the last volunteers to leave. Only, her handsome stranger still sat amongst the tables and the other residents, while his elderly partner brushed past her in a hurry to get out.

  For a brief moment, his beautiful smile tugged at his soft-looking lips, but then he dipped his chin and those same lips curled into a wicked grin. She waited another few beats, expecting he’d stand and follow her out the door.

  But he didn’t.

  Her body stiffened. She spun around to peer outside through the glass sliding doors, where the lady he’d sat next to ambled through the parking lot, then ducked into a white hatchback. The taillights flared red, and the car pulled away.

  Sophie whipped back to her sexy stranger. Her stomach flipped. A care worker slid a lunch tray in front of him, his new flinty glower saying there’d be no drink.

  She’d heard of young people taking up residence in nursing homes, but never before had she actually encountered one. It often took some injury, disability, or condition—something that required twenty-four-hour assistance—to land someone non-geriatric in a place like this. Often because there weren’t enough places in more appropriate facilities.

  Especially if someone lived rural. Rural, as in, Roseford.

  Pain radiated through her chest, and her heartbeat throbbed loud in her ears; even worse was the burning in her cheeks and the sickening cramp in her tummy. She forced herself to turn, to place one foot in front of another and get the hell out of there.

  The man she’d hoped would kick-start her sexy, new life wouldn’t be “catching her later”. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. He wasn’t even a volunteer. He was a resident.

  * * *

  Buy The Last Place You Look to indulge in this soul-stirring journey today!

  About the Author

  Katerina Simms is a romance author and RWA Emerald Award Finalist; originally born on a sunny Mediterranean island, only to move to the weather challenged suburbs of Melbourne, Australia.

  Tea addict, nature lover, and sloppy speaker of Russian, Katerina’s novels feature vivid contemporary settings and heart stirring characters, punctuated with the occasional good laugh.

  Two of her author idols are the legendary Nora Roberts and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, though she doesn’t suppose they know who she is.

  Acknowledgements

  First up, I want to thank my firstborn, the overwhelming love for whom was the inspiration for this book. I know, Agathe's child died, so that sounds messed up, but hear me out. For a significant time after my daughter's birth, the genuine fear of screwing up sent me into a daunting phase of postnatal anxiety. It was exploring that fear, and writing this book, that helped me move through that part of my life. And thus The Last Heartbeat was born.

  So, to Ms. A, you’ll always be my first baby, the one who taught me how to “mum”. To Mr. A, you’ll always be the last baby, and therefore the “forever” baby, an
d I’ll never let you forget it. Sorry, Dude! Either way, my hugs will never dry out for either one of you. X

  I can’t go on without thanking my husband, also a Mr. A. Without him, there would be no book. Literally. His juicy geek brain is the reason this book returned from wherever books go to when their ding-bat authors drop hot tea over a sweet-innocent laptop just trying to do its job! Yes, I’m still facepalming over that mishap, but have I learned my lesson? Sort of. Anyway, thank you, husband.

  You’ve helped as my tech support in a million other ways, but more than any of that, you’re a real-deal hero and the years go by far too quickly with you at my side.

  I want to thank a whole bunch of authors who have offered help over the years. The ones who carried out translations in this book (Alli Sinclair), general craft advice, as well as the publishing process. There are way too many to mention, but I will give a special shout-out to the members of RWA Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and The Romantic Elephants.

  Special mentions of course to my main editor Chris Hall of The Editing Hall, my proofreader extraordinaire Jen Katemi, and my cover designer Sarah Paige, of Opium House. Three people who endure the emails back and forth, whilst breathing extra life and color into my work.

  Lastly, oh my goodness! BIG thank you to my readers and fans, some of whom have been with me for seven years while I had babies and didn’t release books! I finally got there. The fact that there are people willing to support the arts and artists with reviews, purchases, follows, while interacting with us and our work, will forever fill my heart with love and butterflies.