by Amy Andrews
Dear Reader
I hope you have been enjoying the Gold Coast Angels series. Having been a part of a few continuities now, I can tell you without hesitation how very much I enjoy them. It’s nice not to write in isolation for a change, to live in a world that you build together with your fellow writers, brick by brick, and where everyone knows you!
I hope you are buckled up for Cade and Callie’s story. Cade was one of the secondary characters in the hugely successful New York City Angels series, and I know readers have been clamouring for his HEA.
The problem is both Cade and Callie have baggage—relationships that have broken them and made them determined to hold themselves back. Their careers have taken priority in their lives and they like it that way!
But fate has different ideas for these two, and I hope you enjoy their dance as they realise that career is just one aspect of a whole life. And that sometimes you need to give in to temptation and surrender to a higher power—love.
Happy reading!
Amy Andrews
Praise
‘I am an avid fan of Ms Andrews, and once any reader peruses this book they will be too.’
—Cataromance on
TOP-NOTCH SURGEON, PREGNANT NURSE
‘A wonderfully poignant tale of old passions, second chances and the healing power of love…an exceptionally realistic romance that will touch your heart.’
—Contemporary Romance Reviews on
HOW TO MEND A BROKEN HEART
AMY ANDREWS has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs.
She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au
Gold Coast Angels:
How to Resist
Temptation
Amy Andrews
www.millsandboon.co.uk
DEDICATION
To three awesome writers—
Marion Lennox, Fiona McArthur and Fiona Lowe.
I am honoured to be in your number.
Table of Contents
Cover
Praise
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
IT HAD BEEN a long time since Cade Coleman had felt so objectified. But standing in front of a ballroom full of appreciative women with their chequebooks out took him right back to the ‘bad old days’.
Back then he’d been pool and garden guy to a bunch of bored Beverly Hills housewives. But now? At thirty-five he was Dr Cade Coleman, neonatal specialist, one of the shining stars in the crown of the Gold Coast City Hospital. His reputation was impeccable and his passion for the little lives in his care had driven him to blaze his way into the relatively new arena of prenatal surgery.
He’d come far since losing his way—and his virginity—to a string of gorgeous cougars, and even though he was here tonight, on the opposite side of the world and in the name of charity, the irony was not lost on him.
‘What will you bid?’ the emcee, a well-known celebrity and another gorgeous cougar who looked like she might just buy him herself, called to the crowd. ‘Remember, Dollars for Dates raises an extraordinary amount of money every year for the neonatal unit and this year…’ she paused and gave Cade the once-over, much to the crowd’s delight ‘…we’ve saved the best for last.’
Cade smiled good-naturedly. When he’d been asked to participate in the annual fundraiser, he hadn’t hesitated. He didn’t mind squiring around any of the aging Gold Coast charity queens populating the crowd for a night—not if it meant he could expand his prenatal surgery options.
‘Do I have two hundred dollars?’
An excited murmur ran through the crowd as people considered their options. Then, from towards the back a very hesitant, ‘Fifty,’ could be heard.
Cade clutched his chest and feigned his very best insulted look. ‘Ma’am, you wound me,’ he said, his voice easily projecting to the rear of the room.
The crowd laughed as the emcee cooed, ‘Oh, and he’s an American, ladies. How very exotic.’
‘Two hundred,’ a voice called from the left.
Callie Richards, admiring the spectacle from her table, glanced over at the bidder, smiling at the total lack of hesitancy this time. Seemed the accent was a real clincher! And then the bidding was off.
Not that she could blame any of them. Cade Coleman had been setting hearts aflutter ever since his arrival at the hospital a couple of months ago. Being tall, tanned, lean, ripped and foreign would do that.
So would looking dashing and debonair and just a little bit Rhett Butler in his tuxedo.
God knew, she wasn’t immune to those broad shoulders and all that brash American confidence despite what she knew about him from Alex, his stepbrother—and probably the closest thing she had to a friend in the entire world, even if he did live on the other side of the planet.
According to Alex, Cade had fled the US over a problem with a woman. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Which only meant that Cade had baggage. And explained why, to the best of her knowledge, he’d been resolutely single since his arrival.
Not that it had stopped her making a fool of herself with the man. Getting tipsy and flirty with him at a wedding, not long after their rather rocky first acquaintance, and being subsequently rejected had been a particularly humiliating incident. Sure, he’d been nice about it, but it had been a long time since Callie had been turned down by a man and it had stung.
Having to work closely with him in the intervening time had been fraught despite the professional detachment she practised so well. But given that they both specialised in neonatology, he was hard to avoid.
It had only been recently that she’d felt they’d moved beyond that dreaded night and slipped into an easier relationship.
The bidding stalled at eighteen hundred dollars. ‘Come now, ladies,’ the emcee implored. ‘Surely a handsome doctor who spends all his days saving tiny little babies’ lives is worth a little more?’
‘Two thousand five hundred.’
A ripple of excitement ran around the room and Callie craned her neck to see the woman who had made the clear, determined bid that had come from the left. She followed the direction everyone else was looking to find the bidder had risen to her feet—Natalie Alberts.
Tall, willowy, blonde and gorgeous, the New Zealand paediatric registrar, who’d been pursuing Cade from the moment he’d set foot in the hospital, looked like she was about to get her man.
Callie glanced at Cade as the emcee enthused, ‘That’s more like it!’
His toothpaste smile was still firmly in place but Callie, having been at the other end of one of his rejections, had intimate knowledge of that get-me-out-of-here look in his eyes.
Cade sighed inwardly as he forced his smile to widen an
d his body language to exude a but-of-course veneer. Who wouldn’t want to pay more than a lot of people earned in a month for the pleasure of his company?
Holy crap.
A few hours’ wining and dining a nice woman with a charitable heart was one thing. Spending those hours with someone who’d made no secret she wanted to marry him and have his babies? That had stalker nightmare written all over it.
He’d come to Australia to reinvent himself. To move away from the man he’d been in the past and the secret shame of it all. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to blow it by falling into his old womanising ways. He was here for his career—not female companionship!
‘Do I have an advance on two and half thousand, ladies?’
Callie felt distinctly sorry for him. He’d gone from basking in the attention to a forced smile and a guarded look in his eyes that she doubted many could read. But as someone who avoided dates at all costs, Callie could easily interpret it.
He’d rather swallow the contents of a poisoned chalice than go on a date with the gorgeous Kiwi.
Or maybe that was just a date with any woman in possession of such robust predatory intent. It could certainly threaten his stringently single status.
‘I have two and half,’ the emcee called. ‘Going once.’
Callie watched as Cade ran a finger along the inside of his collar and stretched his neck from side to side—his smile still firmly plastered in place.
‘Going twice.’ The muscle at the angle of his jaw tightened.
‘Two thousand six.’
It was only when all eyes swivelled to Callie that she realised she’d even uttered a word. But apparently she’d done more than that. Not only was she also on her feet but she’d actually upped the ante.
Natalie’s gaze narrowed and speared right through Callie’s chest. ‘Three thousand,’ she said, glaring with particular vehemence before turning to look triumphantly at the emcee.
‘Ah, that’s more like it.’ The emcee clapped as she looked expectantly at Callie.
Oh, bloody hell. Callie glanced at Cade, expecting to see an even bigger look of dread in his gaze, but to say his relief was palpable was an understatement. He smiled at her—a genuinely huge grin—and everything inside her turned to water.
‘Any further advance?’ the emcee asked, looking directly at Callie.
Cade kicked up an eyebrow and the smile warming his brown eyes caused her pulse to do a strange jitterbug inside her chest. That damned eyebrow told her the ball was in her court.
Callie sighed, resigning herself to keep going. But he sure as hell owed her big-time!
‘Three thousand and one.’ Callie nodded.
‘Two,’ Natalie immediately shot back.
‘Three.’
‘Five hundred,’ the determined blonde countered.
‘Six.’
Callie didn’t take her eyes off Cade the entire time. He’d relaxed now, his head bobbing back and forth between his two bidders as if he were sitting at centre court during the Australian Open.
‘Seven.’
Callie gritted her teeth. ‘Eight.’
Natalie’s strong, clear ‘Four thousand’ caused a few little gasps around the room.
‘Four and a half,’ Callie returned.
‘Five!’
More gasps as the emcee said to Cade, ‘Well, now, Dr Coleman, this is getting interesting.’
Cade grinned and drawled, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ And Callie swore she could hear the sound of cells sighing as every female in the room leaned in a little closer.
Callie all but rolled her eyes. Cade was enjoying himself, getting a little too smug now for his own good, and a part of her just wanted to drop him right in it and leave him in the clutches of Natalie. After all, had he helped her out when she’d needed someone to scratch an itch not so long ago?
Nope.
He’d politely rejected her. And that itch was still there. If anything, Cade and his bloody tuxedo had intensified it. So quite why she was helping him out she had no idea.
A modicum of humility might not go astray.
‘Do we have an advance on five thousand?’
Aware of the expectancy pushing in around her, Callie’s gaze flicked to the excitable emcee, who was looking directly at her as she bounced on her toes and shuffled from foot to foot like a toddler with an urgent toilet problem. She glanced sideways at a very hostile Natalie before returning to Dr Full-Of-Himself.
She didn’t say anything, just met his gaze and let the seconds tick by. ‘Very well,’ the emcee said. ‘If there are no more bids…’
Callie folded her arms. The room fell silent, as if holding its breath.
‘Going once at five thousand dollars.’
Cade’s pulse spiked on a surge of adrenaline as Callie ignored the emcee’s call for further bids. He knew that the striking redhead didn’t owe him anything. Certainly, after he’d rejected her advances—which had been damn hard when she’d fit just right against his body—she didn’t owe him salvation.
Then why bid in the first place?
She couldn’t let him glimpse a way out and not follow through, surely?
‘Going twice.’
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She quirked a sexy arched eyebrow at him.
She wouldn’t, would she?
Cade swallowed and reached for his collar, the stage lights suddenly hot again on his skin. Please, he implored with his eyes.
Please.
He wished he could speak. Tell her he’d pay her back—every cent. It would be worth the ridiculous amount of cash to keep Natalie’s particular brand of desperation out of his life. She was a nice woman and a competent doctor but she just wasn’t for him—no woman was—and encouraging her in any way, shape or form was asking for trouble.
Callie saw the moment his bravado faltered and uncertainty once again ruled his gaze. Humility. Atta boy.
‘Five one,’ she said, as the emcee opened her mouth again and raised her gavel.
The crowd was too busy gasping and murmuring to notice Cade’s ever-so-slight shoulder sag and the relaxing of his jaw, but Callie did. Their gazes met and the I owe you in his eyes was clear.
So, she hoped, was the damn right in hers.
‘Miss?’
The emcee was addressing Natalie, and Callie, along with the rest of the ballroom, looked at the willowy blonde with bated breath. A cold blast of hostility lobbed her way as Natalie’s mouth tightened. She shook her head at the emcee, conceding defeat, and Callie admired her restraint. Someone who set a limit and stuck to it had ironclad impulse control.
It wasn’t something she’d ever been known for—her rash propositioning of Cade being one good case in point. Tonight was an even better one! She hadn’t even planned to bid and now she was out of pocket five grand.
Cade Coleman owed her for sure!
With no other bidders the auction wrapped up quickly and the entire ballroom stood and clapped as Cade sauntered off the stage and headed for Callie. When he got to her table he reached for her hand and kissed it in a very European manner.
Callie couldn’t deny, as his lips brushed her knuckles, how very Prince Charming it was.
‘Thank you,’ he said over the noise of their applauding audience, a camera flash or two adding to a Hollywood feel. ‘I am in your debt.’
Callie gave him a half smile but kept her tone brisk. ‘You have no idea.’
He grinned as the band struck up a number and the clapping eased. ‘How about we discuss that a little further on the dance floor?’
Their hands still clasped, Callie glanced over at the rapidly filling space. There wouldn’t be a lot of room to move out there. She wasn’t keen to revisit the memories of the last time she’d suggested they dance or whatever, in particular the rather humiliating way it had ended. ‘Do you think that’s such a good idea after last time?’
‘I think we’re a little past that now, aren’t we?’
Were they? Callie
could easily recall the embarrassment even if he couldn’t. Maybe he was so used to women coming on to him they all just melded into one. But he was right. They’d worked together since then and had slowly moved into friendlier territory. Hell, they lived on the same floor of the same apartment complex.
Clearly, he wasn’t holding that night against her so why should she?
Plus, they were both adults. No matter how persistent that itch had become beneath the touch of his lips and the nearness of his broad male frame.
She inclined her head, conscious of their audience. ‘One dance,’ she murmured.
Cade put his hand on her back as he ushered her past tables and through the milling crowd onto the dance floor. He resolutely ignored the way her clingy, emerald-green dress dipped low at the back and how her rich Titian hair, piled high in a curly mass on her head, exposed her nape and the fascinating indentations of her spine.
They took up position towards the outside and, as the song was slow, he slid one hand onto her waist and the other captured hers. They didn’t speak and she stared resolutely over his shoulder at some point behind him, but he was conscious of the curve of her hip, the shift of her body beneath his palm and the heady aroma of frangipani as they moved together.
Someone jostled them from behind and his hand automatically slid to the small of her back as their bodies moved a little closer to accommodate the restricted space. Her hair brushed his cheek, as soft as a petal and, as something primal stirred in the vicinity of his groin, Cade was suddenly conscious of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
Of how much he missed it.
The Sophie debacle had sent him packing both physically and emotionally as he’d fled first to the opposite side of the USA and then the opposite side of the world. And he’d convinced himself that he was done with women and dating.
That his career came first.
Yet one dance with Callie Richards was making a mockery of all that.
‘I’ll write you a cheque first thing in the morning,’ he said, suddenly uncomfortable about owing her anything.
