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

  No. Hannah couldn’t afford to believe in the serious side Ryan was capable of presenting. That was the short cut to disaster that her mother and sister had followed so willingly. She was stronger than that. She could push it away. It was easy, really. All she had to do was remember the way he flirted. The way women flocked to queue up for a chance to go out with him.

  He might have the ability to be serious but it couldn’t be trusted to last. Serious stuff couldn’t be allowed to continue for too long. It just had to be broken by the injection of fun.

  ‘“Now … give me back my dog!”’

  Even though she’d only been half listening, Hannah found herself smiling. Shane and Jimmy were giggling. Hal groaned because it hurt, trying to laugh, but he still managed a big grin. Rob and Millie were still laughing when two ambulance officers came through the door with Mary. Eyebrows shot up.

  ‘We heard there was an accident here,’ one of them said, ‘not a party!’

  How many doctors would be able to achieve that? Hannah wondered. Then her own smile broadened. How many doctors had such a supply of awful jokes that could seemingly be adapted to suit the situation? As a demonstration of how useful it could be to be so laid back, this had been an eye-opener. The tension that had filled this room when Hannah had arrived and had threatened to get worse later had gone. Much of the anxiety had left the faces of Rob and Millie and even the boys were all still grinning, even when faced with imminent transport to hospital.

  It didn’t take long to sort out the transport arrangements. Mike would travel in the ambulance with Hal and Jimmy. Shane demanded to travel with Ryan in the Jeep.

  ‘You can’t do that,’ Millie said. ‘You’d better wait for the other ambulance. You’ve got a hole in your guts.’

  ‘It’s pretty superficial, luckily,’ Ryan told her. ‘It’s going to need a good clean-out and examination under local, but I don’t see any harm in Shane riding in the Jeep to start with, anyway. We can meet the other ambulance on the road and transfer him then.’

  ‘Guess that’ll be quicker.’ Millie waved at Mike as he climbed into the back of the ambulance. ‘You’d better get back in time to get your glad rags on, eh?’

  Hannah was in the backseat of the Jeep again and Ryan kept up an easy conversation with Shane, interspersed with the occasional query and frequent glance that let Hannah know how closely he was monitoring the lad’s condition.

  They got back to Crocodile Creek before a rendezvous with the second ambulance. Hannah gave herself a mental shake when she realised that she was disappointed. It wouldn’t do to be shut in the confines of a vehicle with no company other than Ryan’s, she told herself firmly. It would make it impossible not to feel the strength of the connection that daylight and even a semi-professional working environment had failed to dent.

  Disturbingly, it seemed to have become stronger. Hannah stood back in the emergency department of Crocodile Creek Hospital after doing a handover for Jimmy. When Ryan finished transferring the care of Shane to the hospital staff, he turned to look for her. When he spotted her, standing near the water cooler, he smiled.

  A different sort of smile. It went with a questioning expression that suggested he really cared about whether she was OK. Like his tone had been when he’d given her his jacket to keep her warm. It touched something deep inside Hannah and made it impossible not to feel happy.

  Dangerous, dangerous territory.

  She wasn’t going to fall in love with Ryan Fisher.

  Hannah simply wasn’t going to allow it to happen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WHEN had it happened?

  How had it happened?

  It wasn’t just the atmosphere. The way Mike and Emily were looking at each other as they walked around the altar, taking their first steps as man and wife. Or the chanting of the priest as he gave them his blessing. Or the collective sigh of approval coming from the packed church pews.

  There was no question it had happened, however.

  With her arms full of the white silk train of Emily’s dress and the soft tulle of her veil, Hannah was walking very slowly, her arm touching Ryan’s as he held the silk ribbons joining the wreaths on the heads of the bridal couple. They got a little tangled at the last corner and there was a momentary pause.

  And Ryan looked at her.

  There could be no mistaking that sensation of free-fall. The feeling that all the cells in her body were charged with some kind of static electricity and were desperately seeking a focus for their energy.

  Or that the focus was to be found in the depths of the dark eyes that were so close to her own. This was a connection that transcended anything remotely physical. The caress of that eye contact lasted only a heartbeat but Hannah knew it would haunt her for life.

  It was a moment of truth.

  A truth she hadn’t expected.

  One she most certainly didn’t want.

  She was in love with Ryan Fisher. She could … incredibly … imagine that this was a ceremony to join them in matrimony, not Mike and Emily and the notion only increased that delicious sensation.

  Fortunately, Hannah had a huge armful of fabric she could clutch. It brought back memories of the cuddly blanket Susie had dragged around with her for years as a small child, much to Hannah’s disgust. The fleecy square had become smaller and smaller over the years and was finally abandoned but somehow the last piece had emerged just after their father had died and Susie had slept with it under her pillow and had genuinely seemed to derive comfort from the limp rag.

  Hannah had never needed an inanimate object for comfort.

  Until now.

  How stupid had it been to go to bed with Ryan?

  She knew she didn’t do one-night stands. She had always believed that that kind of intimacy should be reserved for a relationship that meant something because it was too hard to separate physical and emotional involvement.

  Had her subconscious tricked her into believing that, for once, she could do just that? Or had she known all along that her attraction to Ryan had only needed a push to become something far deeper and she had been drawn towards it as inevitably as her mother and sister had been drawn to involvement with the Richards? Had she despised his flirting because, deep down, she had been jealous?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  How horrified would Ryan be if he guessed how she was feeling? Or, worse, would he take advantage of it, in the Richards style, making the most of having some female fall at his feet—just until he got bored and moved on to a more exciting playground?

  Any of those wayward thoughts, generated by the chaos and excitement of the afternoon’s preparation for this ceremony, of allowing her one-night stand to become a one-weekend stand had to be squashed.

  This had all the makings of a painful ending already. If even a tiny bit more was added to the way Hannah was feeling, it could be just as disastrous as spending weeks or months in a relationship, only to have it end. She might have had no intention of making an emotional investment but something had been automatically deducted from her account without her realising.

  Hannah liked that analogy. It wasn’t possible to withdraw the sum but she could, at least, stop throwing good money after bad and pull the plug.

  Firmly enough to break the chain so she could throw it away.

  Facing the congregation as they made their final circuit, Hannah looked up, finally confident she had control again. There was a woman in the second row in the most extraordinary hat she had ever seen. A vast purple creation with bright pink artificial flowers, like giant gerberas, around its brim.

  In front of the hat sat Mike’s mother, a handkerchief pressed to her face to mop up her tears of joy. His father was using his sleeve to wipe his. Beside them sat a little row of children—the pageboys and flower girls who had done a wonderful job of petal-strewing and had had to sit quietly for the more serious part of the proceedings.

  As a sensible insurance policy, Susie sat at the end of the pew, hemming the c
hildren in, her crutches propped in front of her, and beside her, in the aisle, was Charles in his wheelchair with one of the flower girls sitting on his lap. The adults were both smiling happily but there was an almost wistful element in both their expressions.

  It had been a gorgeous service. Sophia must be thrilled that everything had gone so perfectly despite the worry that the worsening weather that afternoon had caused.

  Not that any of the bridal party had had time to fret. Kylie, the gum-chewing, self-confessed gossip queen, had worked like a Trojan to make them all as beautiful as possible. Hannah had been startled by how she looked with her soft, natural curls bouncing on her shoulders and more make-up than she would normally have worn. By the time she was encased in her peach silk, sheath dress with the big flower at the base of a plunging halter neckline that matched the explosion of froth at knee level and the sleeveless, silver bolero jacket, Hannah felt almost as gorgeous as Emily looked in her cloud of white lace and flowers.

  The men had peach silk bow ties to match the bridesmaids’ dresses and silver waistcoats to match their jackets. Hannah hadn’t been wrong in thinking they would look irresistibly handsome in their dark suits and white dress shirts. And Ryan, of course, was the best looking of the lot, with his long, lean frame encased in tailored elegance and his dark hair groomed to keep the waves in place. Even a very recent shave hadn’t been enough to remove the dark shadow, however, and Hannah couldn’t help remembering the scratch of his face that morning on some very tender areas of her skin.

  With some difficulty, she dragged her thoughts back to the present. Yes. It had been an over-the-top, fairy-tale wedding ceremony for two people who were obviously very deeply in love and that had the potential to make any single person like Susie or Charles Wetherby reflect on what was missing from their own lives.

  It had to be contributing a lot to Hannah’s own heightened emotional state. With a bit of luck, she would see things quite differently once they were away from the church.

  It was nearly time for the bridal procession. Hannah could see Charles moving his wheelchair and Susie whispering to the children to give them their instructions. They would come at the end of the procession after each pair of bridesmaids and their male counterparts had moved into the aisle. Hannah’s partner was, of course, Ryan. She would have to take his arm at least until they got to the foyer, where she would need both hands to help Emily with her veil.

  It might take all twelve available bridesmaids’ hands, judging by the howl of the wind that could now be heard over the trumpet music. The blast of air inside that came as someone opened the main door of the church was enough to catch Emily’s veil and threaten to tear it from her head. The chandelier overhead rattled alarmingly and a crashing sound brought a gasp from everybody standing to watch the procession.

  People were craning their necks to see what had happened but they were staring in different directions.

  ‘It was the flowers!’ someone near Hannah exclaimed. ‘Look!’

  Hannah looked. She could see the huge vase of exquisitely arranged peach and white blooms that had toppled from its pedestal near the altar. A large puddle was spreading out from the mound of scattered blooms amongst the shards of broken china.

  ‘No, it came from outside,’ someone else shouted. ‘Everybody, sit down!’

  The priest was looking as alarmed as his congregation. Hannah caught a glimpse of Sophia crossing herself as the priest hurried down the side aisle. Another loud splintering noise was heard as he reached the foyer and his robes were whipping around his legs.

  ‘Close the door,’ they heard him order. He came back to where Emily and Mike had halted a few seconds later. ‘There are slates coming off the roof,’ he reported. ‘You can’t go out that way.’

  A buzz of consternation rippled through the crowded pews. What was happening? Was this a bad omen for the bridal couple? The noise level continued to increase as the priest spoke to Mike and Emily, pointing towards another door at one side of the church.

  ‘You’ll have to go out through the vestry. It’s not safe this way.’

  ‘No, no, no!’ Sophia was powering down the side aisle, gesticulating wildly. Hannah saw a pretty young woman in a dark blue dress with a matching ribbon in her curly hair get up hurriedly to follow her. ‘They can’t go backwards,’ Sophia cried. ‘It’s bad luck!’

  A chorus of assent came from the congregation nearby. The priest was looking deeply concerned and even Mike and Emily exchanged worried glances.

  ‘How about “take two”?’ Ryan suggested calmly. ‘We’ll push rewind. You guys go back to the altar, have another snog and then go down the side and out the vestry door. That way, you won’t be going backwards before you leave the church.’

  ‘How about it, Ma?’

  ‘It’s a great idea,’ the young woman beside Sophia said firmly. ‘Isn’t it, Mrs P.?’

  ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. This is bad….’

  ‘Don’t cry, Ma,’ Mike ordered. ‘Have you got a spare hanky there, Grace?’

  The sound of more slates crashing into the courtyard decided the matter. As one body, the bridal party turned and moved swiftly back towards the altar. The sound of spitting for luck from everybody at the end of the pews was clearly audible despite continuing, excited conversation.

  ‘Hey!’ Ryan leaned towards Hannah. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be hanging on my arm?’

  ‘I don’t think we rehearsed this bit.’ But Hannah obligingly took the arm being offered.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to tell you but you look fabulous in pink.’

  ‘It’s peach, not pink.’

  The second kiss that Mike and Emily shared in front of the altar was a little more hurried than the first. They were all aware of the priest now standing by the vestry door, virtually wringing his hands with anxiety. He wanted his church emptied, preferably without anyone being decapitated by flying slates.

  Sophia looked as though she would benefit from smelling salts. Unplanned happenings were threatening to disrupt the most carefully orchestrated wedding that Crocodile Creek was likely to experience.

  The loose slates weren’t the only surprise. Hannah was close behind the bride and groom as the priest opened the vestry door and there, in front of them, was a couple locked in a rather passionate embrace.

  It had to be that girl, Georgie, she had seen at the airport. Hannah would have recognised those red stiletto shoes anywhere.

  Ryan nudged her. ‘Isn’t that Alistair—that American neurosurgeon?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Seems like they’ve been having their own little ceremony.’

  ‘Mmm.’ What was it about this place? Something in the tropical air? Romance seemed to be around every corner.

  Maybe that was the problem. She’d get over Ryan in a flash once she was breathing nice clean, sensible New Zealand air again. Not that there was time to think even that far into the future. Some of the male guests had braved the front entrance to make sure it was safe to leave the church from this side. Vehicles were being brought right to the door and the mammoth task of shifting the whole congregation to the Athina for the reception was under way.

  Any hint of blue patches between the boiling clouds had long gone. It looked as though another heavy, squally rain shower was imminent.

  ‘Quickly, quickly,’ Sophia said to everyone passing her at the door. She had clearly abandoned her carefully thought-out transport arrangements and was planning to move everybody as fast as possible. ‘We must get home!’

  She made Emily, Mike, Ryan, Hannah and Susie squeeze into the first of the limousines. ‘The bride mustn’t get wet!’ she warned. ‘It’s bad luck!’

  Sophia spat three times as Emily and Mike climbed into the spacious rear of the car. What with the huge wedding dress and then Susie’s crutches, there wasn’t much room left for Ryan and Hannah. They ended up on the same side as Susie with Hannah in the middle. A crutch pressed against her thigh on one sid
e but that discomfort paled in comparison to the disturbing effect of having such close contact with Ryan’s thigh on the other side.

  ‘Well, that was fun.’ Mike had a huge grin on his face. Then he turned to Emily and his smile faded before he kissed her tenderly.

  ‘Don’t mind us,’ Ryan drawled.

  Mike surfaced reluctantly. ‘You should try this some time, mate. It’s not that bad.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Ryan’s sidelong glance at Hannah involved a subtle quirk of an eyebrow. I know, the glance said. I’ve enjoyed that particular pastime quite recently myself.

  ‘Hey!’ Mike was grinning again. ‘If you got around to it soon enough, we could give these suits another airing. I’ll return the favour and be your best man.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  Why did Ryan choose that moment to slide his hand under the peachy froth of Hannah’s skirt to find her hand? To hold it and give a conspiratorial kind of squeeze?

  Had he got some crazy notion himself during that ceremony—as she had? Was Hannah going to be tricked into believing she was a candidate for his bride?

  No!

  She pulled her hand free but the gesture lost any significance because the driver of the limousine chose precisely that moment to slam on his brakes and she, Ryan and Susie tumbled forward.

  ‘Ouch!’ Susie cried.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ryan helped her back onto the leather seat.

  Mike slid the glass partition behind his head open. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Rubbish bag flying around in this wind,’ the driver told him. ‘Sorry—but it landed on the windscreen and I couldn’t see a thing. You guys OK back there?’

  ‘Fine,’ they all chorused.

  Including Hannah. She was fine now that Ryan wasn’t holding her hand. Now that they’d all been shaken out of the romantic stupor emanating from the bridal couple.

  ‘Crikey!’ The car slowed again as it crossed the old wooden bridge into the cove. ‘If that water comes up any more, this’ll get washed out to sea.’