by Amy Andrews
Callie’s eyes fluttered closed as his breath stirred the hair at her temple and his accent slithered down her spine and tingled where his palm held her fast. She pulled back slightly until she was looking into his eyes. Light brown with tawny flecks. Like amber. Like whisky.
‘You think I can’t afford five grand?’ she challenged.
Cade’s gaze was drawn briefly to the way the subdued light from the magnificent overhead chandeliers glowed in the rich emerald of her eyes before being distracted by her mouth. Her lipstick was a deep scarlet and seemed to beckon with a simmering but subdued sexuality. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Callie shrugged. ‘It’s a damn good cause. I’d be a lousy representative of the hospital I work at and the unit I love if I didn’t show my support in some way.’
‘Five thousand bucks is a little extreme,’ Cade said dryly.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Callie said, settling back to peer over his shoulder again as his raw masculine scent found its way past her usually impenetrable veneer. ‘I’ll consider it my public service for the year. Plus, I’m thinking it might be good to have you in my debt.’
Cade grimaced as her hair brushed his cheek again. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
Callie laughed at the dread in his voice. She didn’t like to give anyone control over her life, either. A disastrous teenage marriage had taught her that. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as the occasional brush of Cade’s thighs caused her pulse to flutter, ‘I’ll wield my power wisely.’
Cade snorted—screw that. He’d avoided dating since his arrival in Australia, but obligation was to be avoided even more. ‘How about we just get it over and done with?’ he suggested. ‘You paid five thousand dollars to go out on a date with me so…let’s do it.’
Callie shut her eyes, trying to tune in to the music rather than the slow thick pounding of her pulse at his ‘let’s do it’. He didn’t mean it, and she had no desire to go out on a date with him. Mind-blowing, head-banging sex, sure, but he’d already made it perfectly clear that any horizontal recreation was off the table. And she just didn’t do the whole dating thing.
‘I don’t date,’ she said.
Cade frowned. ‘What do you mean, you don’t date?’ Wasn’t that what women wanted?
‘I don’t date,’ Callie repeated, as she once again pulled back to look at him. ‘Haven’t since my teens. I refuse to. Like you, it would seem.’
Cade wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d spent his entire adult life dating women as a way into their beds. And then done a complete about-turn and spent the last couple of months deflecting those who wanted nothing more than to score a date with him. Her lipstick glistened in the subtle light from above and he couldn’t believe a woman in possession of such a fine mouth didn’t enjoy many a date.
‘I’ve never met a woman who didn’t date. Or who didn’t want to, anyway.’
‘Oh, is that only a male prerogative in the good old US of A?’ Callie enquired sweetly. ‘I think you’re meeting entirely the wrong type of woman,’ she continued. ‘I’m honoured to be your first.’
She smiled at him and Cade’s loins heated at the deliberately provocative language coming from that sexy painted mouth. ‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t like to indulge in pleasant social discourse with the opposite sex?’
‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t?’ she countered. Her reasons were her own and not up for discussion. As she suspected his were.
Cade gave a half smile. He’d never been told so politely to mind his own business. ‘Touché,’ he murmured, and they swayed in silence for a moment or two before he said, ‘So you paid five grand for nothing?’ he clarified.
Callie shrugged. ‘Not necessarily. You never know when the need for a male escort might just pop up.’
‘Great,’ Cade grumbled, feigning his best insulted look. ‘Now I feel like a gigolo.’
‘Well, at least you’re the expensive kind.’
He blinked at her bald inference and then laughed. To his surprise she joined him and the light, throaty noise enveloped him in its sexy resonance. He’d heard her laugh before, of course—at work. She was always kidding around, when appropriate, with the staff on the NICU or the wards—particularly the male staff.
Oh, yes, she had great rapport with her male colleagues and she was resoundingly liked by them all. It was obvious she enjoyed being ‘one of the boys’. The blokey, slightly off-colour language and good-natured ribbing came easily to her.
She felt pretty easy in his arms, too, and her laughter reminded him again that it had been a long time since he’d allowed a woman inside his head.
‘It’s the accent, isn’t it?’ he said suddenly, a little miffed that the woman in his arms seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever. It might be all his conceited American arrogance, but women were always interested. ‘It’s too brash, right?’
Callie smiled. ‘Nope.’
‘But you don’t think it’s exotic and charming?’ he pressed.
Callie shrugged. ‘I prefer the British accent.’
‘Damn,’ Cade murmured. ‘That Hugh Grant has a lot to answer for.’ She laughed and it curled straight into his ear and brushed down the side of his neck. He thought a little more. ‘It’s that we work together?’
Callie sighed at his persistence. ‘Look…it’s not you. It’s not your accent or that we work together. I just prefer to…cut to the chase…with men.’
She looked at him, their gazes meshing. ‘I’m not looking for a husband or to cede control of my life to someone. I like sex,’ she said, figuring from what she knew of him that Cade would appreciate the direct approach. ‘I don’t need a candlelight dinner before or to snuggle afterwards. I’m busy with a career that pretty much takes over my whole life so I know what I want and how to ask for it. But you’ve already made it clear that you aren’t interested so…there’s no need to pretend.’
Suddenly Cade understood where Callie’s hesitancy to cash in her chips was coming from. ‘Ah, I get it. This is about me rejecting your advances that time.’
Callie frowned. ‘No. It’s not.’
‘Okay,’ he said, not believing her for a moment. But she had given him the perfect opportunity to clear the air over that. ‘About that…’
Callie shook her head. ‘No. Let’s not go there, please. It was a major error of judgement on my behalf and, as you’re probably aware, I don’t make errors of judgement. It was a weird night… . Weddings kind of do that to me. And I was a little tipsy.’
‘It’s okay,’ Cade said.
‘No. It’s really not,’ she insisted. ‘I embarrassed myself. And you. I still feel embarrassed about it. So if we could not talk about it now, or ever, preferably…’ Callie could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the second as she squirmed through her speech. Hell—was this song never going to end? ‘…that would be good.’
Cade ignored her. ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t find you attractive. I hope you don’t think that.’
Of course she’d thought that. She’d been tipsy and essentially alone in a sea of colleagues at a wedding—it had pushed all her buttons. His it’s-not-you-it’s-me had pretty much fallen on deaf ears.
She’d been mortified.
And rejected again by a man. A position she’d worked hard to avoid over the years. It had taken a long time to regain her sexual confidence after Joe but she had, and she’d wielded it ruthlessly. She took control sexually. She was in the driver’s seat. She said who, where, when and how often.
She knew a sure thing when she saw it—even through wine goggles. And every ounce of her female intuition had told her Cade Coleman had been a sure thing.
Right up until the second he’d politely declined.
‘Of course not,’ she lied.
‘It wasn’t,’ Cade repeated. Hell, Callie was put together just the way he liked. In fact, it was taking all his willpower not to lean in and taste that scarlet mouth. His hand tightened against the fabric
over her lower back as things south of his navel stirred at the mere thought.
‘I’ve messed a lot of things up…back home,’ he conceded, even though he wasn’t quite sure why he was telling her or why it was important that she know his rejection of her come-on hadn’t been about her.
Callie nodded. ‘Alex said you’d had woman trouble.’
Cade paused. He kept forgetting that his stepbrother and Callie went way back. It was through their association he’d landed the job at Gold Coast City Hospital in the first place. He waited for her to say something else but she just swayed, waiting for him to continue.
He smiled and shook his head at her lack of curiosity—most women he knew would be digging in earnest to find out more about his ‘woman trouble’. The fact that she wasn’t only ramped up her appeal even further.
‘Yes,’ he said, dragging his head back into the conversation. Woman trouble was decidedly correct. ‘And so I’m here to start over. Concentrate on my career. Avoid the casual sex scene and romantic entanglements. To be honest, they were never very satisfying anyway, not in any real sense. Not the way my career…my patients are.’
Callie smiled at him realising for the first time what kindred spirits they were—like she and Alex. She was conscious of the fabric of his tux beneath her palm and she smoothed it, absently signalling her approval.
Cade grimaced. ‘That probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.’
‘Not at all,’ Callie murmured, her palm still smoothing along the line of his shoulder. ‘I think you and I speak the same language.’
‘We do?’
‘Sure. We live to work. And everything else is superfluous. That’s a good thing.’
He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Women don’t usually see it that way.’
Callie smiled. ‘I am not your usual woman.’
Cade was about to mutter ‘Damn right’ when the music faded to a close. Couples were parting and clapping and they followed suit.
She leaned in close and put her mouth to his ear as they left the dance floor. ‘But I’m still going to call in my debt one day.’
The brush of her lips and her warm breath arrowed straight to his groin and the stirring bloomed to full-blown arousal.
CHAPTER TWO
CADE WAS STILL THINKING about her parting shot on Monday morning in his office when he received a page from the woman herself. He’d thought of little else over the course of the weekend and even now as he reached for his phone he found himself smiling.
He couldn’t remember anticipating anything this much in a long time. Certainly not a date!
He dialled the extension appearing on his pager screen, a zing in his veins. ‘I knew it wouldn’t take you long to crack,’ he said when she answered on the second ring. ‘I knew the accent would get you sooner rather than later.’
He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, ‘Sorry, still on team Hugh.’
Cade grunted. ‘I could grow a floppy fringe?’
‘I thought you didn’t date, either?’
‘I don’t. But we have an outstanding transaction. It’s a pride thing.’
‘Ah…so it’s your ego talking. Poor Cade,’ she cooed. Cade laughed. ‘I’m sure my ego will survive.’
‘I’m sure it will, too,’ she quipped.
‘Was there a reason you paged me or is it your sole purpose in life to be disagreeable?’
Callie laughed in his ear and his body remembered vividly the havoc her laugh had wreaked on Saturday night. ‘I need a consult,’ she said. ‘I’m looking at a twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome and I want to give the parents all their options, including that new-fangled fetoscopy thing you do.’
Cade grinned at the faux reverence in her voice. ‘On my way.’
Five minutes later there was a knock on her door and Callie took a moment to mentally prepare herself before she said, ‘Come in.’
She was glad she did. Cade in a tux was a sight to behold. But Cade in a business shirt, stethoscope casually slung around his neck and his tie askew—utterly befitting the image of the dashing, maverick, prenatal surgeon—was tempting on a whole other level. He appealed to the doctor in her and, for Callie, that was way more dangerous than looking sexy in a suit.
‘Hey,’ he said.
His smile was open and friendly and his gaze was full of familiarity, and the sense of emotional danger she felt when he was around increased. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said. ‘Have a seat.’
And then she launched straight into her spiel because she suddenly realised that with Cade, everything she’d practised over the years was in peril. That smile could make her do something crazy, like throw every ounce of caution and control she’d ever exercised to the wind.
It could make her put her heart on the line for him. A man who was as reluctant to get involved and as burned by life as she was. Hadn’t her heart already suffered enough at the hands of a man who wasn’t capable of love?
No. She’d dodged a bullet when Cade had rejected her advances. Putting herself in front of the gun again was just plain stupid.
‘Kathy Street is a twenty-six-year-old multipara. She has three children under five and is now twenty-two weeks with her fourth pregnancy, identical twin boys.’
‘With a monochorionic placenta?’
‘Yes.’ Callie nodded. ‘She had a scan at twelve weeks, which diagnosed the twin pregnancy, and was supposed to have her standard nineteen-week ultrasound but missed it due to personal circumstances.’
Cade frowned. ‘Which were?’
‘The recent floods prevented her from making the nineteen-week scan. They live three hours west in a small farming community that was flooded in for two weeks and the last week they’ve been cleaning up and trying to get back on their feet. Yesterday was the first chance she had to get to the medical centre for the ultrasound, which is, by the way, an hour’s drive.
‘The GP was concerned she was large for dates, which Kathy had put down to carrying twins and the breathlessness and exhaustion she was feeling down to the stress and hard work of mopping up. But the ultrasound…’
Callie handed over the images that Kathy had brought with her.
‘It shows a larger twin with evidence of polyhydramnios and enlarged bladder and the smaller twin with next to no amniotic fluid or discernible bladder.’
Cade looked at the dramatic images. The larger twin, or the recipient twin as it was medically known, was sitting pretty in its over-filled sac while his brother, the donor twin, was practically shrink-wrapped inside his.
‘They were referred here immediately and travelled up last night.’ Callie turned to her computer and retrieved the data she was looking for. She swivelled the monitor round for Cade to see. ‘These are the images I took just now,’ she said.
Cade shifted forward but the angle and the light in the room made it difficult to see properly so he perched on the edge of her desk, letting his leg swing a little as he leaned in towards the screen.
As he watched he was thankful he worked in, and had had exposure to, the more advanced technology of a large modern hospital. Still images were fine but to be able to see the babies in action, so to speak, was much more helpful. Callie had been thorough with all her measurements and the colour Doppler flow study was particularly helpful.
Callie looked up at him. ‘I think she’s a good candidate for FPLT.’
‘Well, they’re obviously too young to deliver. Certainly fetoscopic placental laser therapy is an option but reduction amniocentesis would be a more conservative approach.’
Callie smiled. Cade Coleman was not known for his conservative approach to medicine or else he wouldn’t be blazing a trail in prenatal surgery, but it was good to know he wasn’t a cowboy, either.
‘Yes. But I think Kathy and Ray’s personal circumstances lend themselves much better to a one-off therapy like FPLT. You and I both know that removing the excess amniotic fluid from the recipient twin is a procedure that often needs to be done multiple times wi
th associated risk of premature birth each time. Not to mention the need for stringent follow-up.
‘They don’t live close to a treatment centre, which would cause a lot of undue stress both physically and, I suspect, financially for them. And she’d need to be on bed rest for the remaining pregnancy. Kathy is not a bed rest kind of woman—she has three little kids and a farm that she helps run. We’d have to admit her for the rest of her pregnancy to ensure that.’
‘She’ll still need to rest after laser therapy.’
‘I know,’ Callie agreed, tapping her pen absently against the wooden desktop. ‘But if she’s non-compliant or poorly compliant, at least the basic cause has been dealt with.’
Callie had grown up around women like Kathy—they worked hard from sun-up to sundown. Rest was something people in the city did.
‘I think she’d be much happier having weekly follow-up ultrasounds locally than stuck in a city hospital, worrying about how her hubby is coping with the kids and the farm.’
She put down her pen and stared at him for a moment. She didn’t think she’d have to work this hard to convince Cade Coleman, of all people!
‘It has the best outcomes for both twins over any other treatment,’ she said. ‘Prior to your arrival, Kathy and Ray would have to have travelled to Sydney for this.’
He grinned. ‘You know you’re preaching to the converted, right?’
Callie shot him an exasperated glare. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ she said, standing up. ‘Let’s go and talk to them.’
He followed her through an interconnecting door to the next room, where a couple sat quietly holding hands. After the introductions were over, Callie gave them a reassuring smile.
‘You’ve both had a lot to take in this morning,’ she said. ‘Before I get on to treatment options, have you got any questions about the actual condition?’
Kathy’s husband, Ray, nodded. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, it’s all a little overwhelming. Did you say that the twins are sharing the same blood supply through the placenta?’
