by Fiona Lowe
Horrified at being caught out staring at him, she tried to cover her actions with words, which tumbled from her mouth. ‘I just wanted to say how excellent you were with Brittany yesterday. You put her at ease so quickly.’
‘Thanks.’ He grinned like a kid who’d just been praised.
Her heart gave an erratic beat at his boyish smile. Keep talking about work. ‘Do you have a specific area of medicine you enjoy?’
‘Paeds was my favourite rotation when I was a med student.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘I love kids, they never fail to make me laugh with their take on the world. I did my residency in paeds—lots of all-nighters with croup and asthma and terrified parents.’
She could picture him on the ward, the voice of reason, the epitome of calm, instilling a sense of security in the parents. Cuddling the kids.
A jagged pain ripped through her. He loved kids—of course, a generous man like Will would. She forced herself to comment, keeping her voice light. ‘Yep, paediatrics isn’t just treating the kids, is it?’
He nodded. ‘More often than not, the kids’ health is the easy bit. Dealing with the parents takes tact and diplomacy that they don’t teach you in med school.’
She sat up, crossed her legs and leant forward, her interest piqued. ‘So, after your residency, then what?’
‘I made the move into paediatrics and started my specialisation.’ A tightness appeared around his mouth, the familiar tension he wore was back.
‘Oh. I thought you said you worked in administration?’
‘I do.’
‘OK, I’m totally confused. I’ve seen you in action twice. Your clinical skills are brilliant but you’re currently not working in clinical medicine. How are you planning to qualify as a paediatrician if you’re not working in the field?’
He sighed, a long, shuddering sigh.
Deep inside her something ached in sympathy.
‘For the moment I’ve stepped out of clinical medicine.’ His words sounded hollow.
‘But why?’
He dragged in a deep breath, reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a packet of lollies, balancing them in the palm of his hand.
Her confusion must have shown on her face. ‘Lollies are the reason you’re not working in the field?’
‘Exactly.’ The lines around his eyes seemed to deepen. ‘Do you know who makes these?’
She picked up the familiar purple and green bag. She’d been buying this brand since she’d been a kid with an allowance burning a hole in her pocket. She read the fine print at the bottom of the bag. ‘Camerons Confectionery.’ Realisation dawned. ‘You’re the Cameron in Camerons Confectionery, makers of fine lollies and liquorice since 1885?’
‘Got it in one. My great-grandfather started the business and a Cameron has always been at the helm. My father is the current CEO.’
She sat stunned. Every kid in Australia and New Zealand knew about Camerons lollies—the delicious, gooey caramels, the liquorice all-sorts you pulled apart piece by piece and the sherbet bombs that exploded in your mouth. The company was an institution and children and adults alike hummed the catchy jingle from the television commercials.
She met his gaze and saw the strain, saw a burden of something in his eyes. She sensed he’d both anticipated and assumed her reaction to the news. His shoulders had straightened, a muscle in his jaw spasmed and for one brief moment his hand fisted.
His almost aggressive posture confused her, and she suddenly realised he was waiting for her to say something. ‘So you’re the great-grandson of Mr Lollie Cameron. I don’t get it. How does this stop you being a paediatrician? It’s not like you became a dentist.’ She giggled. ‘Now, that would be a conflict of interest.’
His deep, rumbling laugh enveloped her. ‘There’s a thought. Perhaps I should have threatened the family with dentistry.’ Some of the strain on his face faded.
A ripple of pleasure ran through her that she had lessened his tension but she wanted to know the whole story. ‘Seriously, why does this affect you?’
He pushed his sunglasses up to the bridge of his patrician nose. ‘I’m the first Cameron not to go into the family firm.’
‘Wow, you really did rebel, didn’t you? Forget drugs and rock and roll—you outclassed them all by becoming a doctor.’
His grin ignited thousands of sparks of desire deep inside her. Listen to his story.
‘I’ve rebelled pretty much all my life, with varying degrees of success. My family is old money and it can stifle you if you let it. My parents did the traditional thing. Their marriage joined two well-connected families and together they are formidable economically, socially and politically.’
‘Surely they liked each other a bit?’ She pulled her knees up to her chin.
He shrugged. ‘They have an affection for each other, I suppose that’s grown over time. They believed their job was to run the company and have an heir. That’s me, heir and only child. They stopped after me—their relationship is not what I would call true love.’
‘Do you admire them?’ Her curiosity peaked.
‘I do. I admire their ethic of hard work, but I don’t share the thrill they get from making money, wheeling and dealing. Somehow that gene skipped me.’
She thought of Graeme and his love of money at any cost. Suddenly she remembered how angry Will had become when she’d lumped him in with the other Penton party boys.
‘So I’m guessing you didn’t have that much in common with the lads at Penton. They probably thought you were a bit of a leftie.’
He laughed and his eyes sparkled, a kaleidoscope of brown and green. ‘You’re right—I didn’t fit into that scene at all. I went through school with a bunch of firstborns who eagerly accepted the mantle of succession.’
She remembered her own childhood where money was tight. ‘Still, school can’t have been all bad.’
‘No, it wasn’t, and it gave me some great experiences. I love to sail, ride horses and visit other countries. I know I’m very fortunate to have had those experiences. I just would have chosen to do them with different people.’ He drew a circle on the picnic rug with his finger. ‘That’s why I love medicine. I get to meet people from all walks of life, not just the privileged few.’
Dared she ask? ‘But you must have some friends.’ She nibbled her lip. ‘A woman you got along with?’
His generous mouth straightened into a taut line.
For a moment she didn’t think he would answer. She waited and held her ground, the question out there between them.
‘For a time I believed there was, but it turned out Taylor found the Cameron money and name more attractive than me. In fact, she found another man more attractive altogether and thought I could support them both. Only problem was, I didn’t know about the other bloke.’ His voice betrayed his hurt.
A streak of protective jealousy shot through Meg, instantly mingling with irrational relief. He was single. She opened her mouth to speak but Will looked straight at her and kept talking.
‘I’m not planning to marry.’ The words hung between them. ‘Money gets in the way of love, it never gives it a chance.’ His voice sounded overly loud in the quiet bush.
A crazy jolt of pain shot through her. She gave herself a mental shake. Her reaction to his statement was ridiculous but it also scared her. She needed to change the subject.
A bright pink sticker on the lolly bag caught her eye. ‘Five cents from each pack helps toward finding a cure for kids’ cancer.’ ‘Has this got something to do with you?’
His face lit up. ‘Yes. KKC is my baby. Did you know that around six hundred children died from cancer in Australia last year? Watching kids die from cancer has to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. You feel completely impotent and the deaths are so much harder because they are out of kilter with what we accept as the cycle of life.’ He ran his hand through his hair.
Her heart turned over at his words. She couldn’t have a child, but watching a child you loved die, she imagined, would b
e devastating.
‘When I joined Camerons I needed to do something that kept me in touch with medicine. As the Cameron fortune is pretty substantial I set up a philanthropic trust called Kill Kids’ Cancer. It’s going really well and we’ve already donated a million dollars to cancer research, as well as improving hospital facilities. I love being involved in something like that.’
Relief flooded her. She now knew for certain he wasn’t anything like the rich, self-centred Graeme. ‘That’s a fantastic thing to have done, but why have you left medicine to join Camerons?’
He gave a long, shuddering sigh. ‘Dad’s been pretty sick. He’s recovering from a kidney transplant and while he’s not physically able to work I’ve taken over the day-to-day running of the business.’
Sadness for him and his family streaked through her, mixed with bewilderment. ‘I’m sorry your dad is so sick but why are you being asked to run the family business when your skills lie in medicine?’ Meg studied Will’s face, looking for subtle clues. There had to be more to this story.
‘Camerons is a private company and Dad’s illness was so sudden that there was no one trained to do his job. Certain business secrets need to be kept in-house so not just anyone could be hired. Any hint of Dad’s illness gives take-over opportunities so I needed to step in until Dad returns or someone else can be groomed to take over.’
‘But you’ve just finished telling me you don’t want the sort of life your parents have.’
‘I don’t, but at this time I need to do this.’ The finality in his voice said, Don’t push me. For a moment his eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion and then the shutters snapped down. ‘It’s working well.’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely.’
Something didn’t ring true here. ‘So you’ve given up your plans to qualify as a paediatrician?’
‘No, they’re just on hold for the moment. It’s a short-term thing.’ The tone of his voice developed an edge.
‘How long have you been acting CEO?’
He hesitated. ‘Six months.’
‘Six months doesn’t sound all that short-term to me and won’t you run into problems with the medical board if you’re out of your specialist training area for too long?’
Will abruptly stood up, ending the conversation. The next minute a snowball pelted her.
‘No fair.’ She scrambled to her feet as a second snowball hit her in the back.
The sun had made the snow sticky and the balls were easy to make. She hastily rolled some ammo. She threw three and missed by a mile.
He stood tall and dark, his streaks of blond hair giving him the look of a surfer. With his hands on his hips, legs apart and a traitorous smile clinging to his lips, he teased her. ‘Can’t you do better than that?’
It was a challenge she couldn’t resist. She ran toward him.
He dodged sideways, but not before he curved a snowball to spin, splat, onto her arm.
She hurled two back. One fell short. The other hit him in the back. ‘Gotcha.’
He paused for a moment and launched four more balls at her. A huge smile split his face, exposing dimples she’d never seen before.
Her skin tingled but not from the cold.
She dodged and weaved, chasing him down, closing the gap between them. A snowball hit her in the neck, icy crystals snaking down her collar. She squealed as the cold snow hit her hot skin.
Will’s laugh had a wicked timbre.
‘Right, you’ve had it.’ She lunged at his back, her arms grabbing his shoulders, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, just like she’d done to her brothers when she’d been a kid. Hanging on with one hand, she shoved snow down his back.
‘Arrgh!’ He swung around as the freezing snow made contact with his shoulders.
His sudden movement loosened her grip and she started to slip, pulling him down with her, a tangle of arms and legs.
She was laughing so much she could hardly breathe as she hit the snowy ground.
Will landed on top of her, laughing equally hard, his legs lying along the length of hers. He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘You OK?’
She nodded, unable to speak as delicious laughter unlike any she’d known in a long time bubbled out of her.
‘Good.’ The word came out deep and hoarse. His head was close to hers, his breath caressing her cheek, his eyes now the colour of a dark forest snagging her own line of vision.
Her laughter faded, replaced by thundering desire.
His lips hovered close to hers, tempting her with their memory of a soft yet firm touch that flamed her woman’s heat. She wanted to have that experience again. Wanted to taste him, touch him, hold him.
Just one more time.
All rational thought fled. She pulled his head down to hers and very slowly ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He tasted of soup and sweets, heat and lust.
A guttural groan sounded in his throat. His lips took charge, pressing down on hers, sending shafts of delicious sensation deep inside her. His tongue trailed across her closed mouth, enticing her to open, insisting on entry.
She didn’t need to be enticed. She wanted this so much. She welcomed him, drew him in, needing him. Needing to know she could be desired again, that as a woman she still had appeal.
Their tongues melded in a dance of lust and longing. His mouth played over hers, sometimes hard and demanding, often gentle and tender.
She didn’t know which she liked best, but she took it all and wanted more.
His attention switched from her mouth. While he trailed sweet kisses with dangerous intentions down her cheek and across her jaw, his hands tangled in her hair. Heat surged from his fingers into her scalp, creating an electricity that connected them, crossing back between them.
She caressed his face. Stubble scraped on her fingertips as she outlined his cheeks, memorising the feel of him. She breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent of citrus and wood, essence of Will.
His tongue found her ear and white lights exploded in her head. His hand sought a gap in her jacket studs and his thumb caressed her already pointed nipples through her shirt. Heat pooled deep inside her, tingling need making her moist.
She arched against him, needing to feel him, wanting him to lie against her, but layers of clothing and jackets got in the way. Frustration surged inside her and a strangled moan of exasperation escaped.
Will immediately drew back, his eyes glazed, his face contrite. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, this isn’t the time or place.’ He moved abruptly and stood up, pulling her to her feet. The moment she was standing he dropped her hand.
His gaze cleared, his eyes blank of all emotion. ‘I’ll check the horses’ hooves for ice build-up.’ The words shot out rough and harsh. He brushed snow off his moleskins. ‘We should head back.’
She watched him go, crying inside, devastation pounding her. She’d been rejected. No confusion there at all. There would never be a time or a place. For a few brief moments she’d savoured the wonder of being desired but it was all an illusion. He didn’t want any involvement with her and that was why he was walking away.
Diesel carried him back to the farm at a cracking pace. Will welcomed the complete concentration required to keep his seat as the horse cantered, the hooves eerily silent on the soft snow. The occasional dull thud of snow falling from the trees was the only sound to break the silence of the winter bush.
That seemed to go pretty well. Yeah, right. Kissing Meg again had to be one of his more stupid ideas. Hell, it had only been two hours ago that he’d decided he shouldn’t flirt with her. So what had he done? Kissed her so hard his head had spun. Was still spinning fifteen minutes later.
What was it about this woman that completely undid him? Once before he’d fallen for a woman. Taylor. But he’d been young and naïve. When it had become obvious Taylor had only wanted him for his money, he’d shut a part of himself down and avoided relationships. If marriage were a business merger, he’d have no part of
it.
But his reaction to Meg was all-consuming and it terrified him. It made his feelings for Taylor look innocent. Somehow during the conversation she’d managed to find out more about him than he’d planned to reveal. But it had felt so good, telling her about KKC, right up until the point she’d started asking the hard questions. The ones that had no answers.
Every woman he had ever met paled into insignificance when compared with Meg. Yet he had no real idea what he wanted, except his need to hold her close.
When they’d fallen in the snow, kissing her had been the natural thing to do. It had felt so right.
His arms ached from wanting her back in them. He could smell her wild-rose scent on his jacket, the perfect scent for a woman who loved the outdoors. He could still taste her sweetness and picture her eyes darkening with what he’d thought to be a desire to match his own.
But the sound she’d made when he’d touched her breasts had been like a bucket of cold water, bringing him back to reality with a jolt. She didn’t want him. She wasn’t playing hard to get. She just wasn’t playing, period. And he hated it.
The memory of her hands on his face rocked through him. She’d pulled his head down to her lips. At the start of the kiss she’d been a willing participant. So what had happened? What was going on?
He suddenly realised that although he knew quite a lot about Meg, in other ways he knew nothing. At times she’d talked passionately about the farm, Laurelton and her job, but she’d ever mentioned a man in her life. A woman as gorgeous as Meg surely wouldn’t be alone. Was that it? Could that explain her pulling back?
He didn’t know but he was determined to find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MEG quickly tidied up the clinic’s reception area. The Latham twins had demolished the toy box earlier in the morning during a busy session. Will was currently taking a break in the kitchen, which was why she was in Reception, avoiding him.
Her days had evolved into a pattern. She left early each morning to avoid Will at breakfast. Even though she was with him all day at work, there was something about sitting around the large farm table with him, sharing the paper and laughing over the comics, that caused her pain, and reinforced a general feeling of loss.
