The Last Doctor She Should Ever Date

by Louisa George

  She nodded. ‘That stupid Lady Godiva moment was the best wake-up call I ever had. Although I didn’t think so at the time. I was crushed. Mortified. My father threw money at the problem to make it go away. I promised him a month at the Inner Sanctum in return for bail. Funny thing was, I really was exhausted—I was tired of living like that. Tired of everything.’

  Zac nodded. He’d seen the photo—and despite the naked image of her beautiful body, he’d recognised the vacant expression, the blank eyes, the total lack of emotion.

  And yet, she’d dragged herself into a profession, learnt useful skills and faced the world again. Stepping onto that red carpet in front of those cameras had taken far more courage than he would ever have.

  Sitting here swamped by the king-size duvet she looked so small, but inside her there was a nugget of strength so pure and proud it shone.

  Her eyes widened as she fixed a smile. ‘And that’s where the story ends for tonight. They all lived happily ever after. Time for sleep.’

  ‘Like I’ll manage to get any with you here.’

  ‘Don’t, Zac. Please.’

  The warning was valid. Each conversation was a step closer to intimacy that neither of them could risk.

  He tried hard to banish the raging erotic thoughts zooming round his brain. It would be so easy to kiss her, too easy. Her mouth was just inches away, those soft supple lips within reach. But that would lead to other things—perhaps—would certainly lead to her edging closer into his heart. And he couldn’t take that, couldn’t get ensnared in a web of promises he couldn’t keep. Dani deserved better; she deserved someone who would be there for her, to cherish her. He couldn’t start something that could only end in disaster.

  Which, considering he was under a duvet with her, half naked, was a joke.

  He was already in way too deep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DAYLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH a chink in the thick fern-green curtains, Dani squinted and shifted. Her left leg had gone numb, her neck felt acutely displaced and something heavy lay across her chest. She sniffed and got the divine scent of Zac. Heat prickled through her. No. So inappropriate. But lovely.

  Reason began to seep into her groggy brain. Her leg had no feeling because his leg was squashing it. Her nose was filled with his smell because her nostril was flat up against the dip in his neck. Somehow she’d fallen asleep at one end of the chaise, but woken at the other. Entwined, not just in his arms, but his legs too. She glanced over to the bed. How much had Jaxon seen, or read into this? For that matter, how much had Zac read into this?

  Opening up to him had been purging and a relief—but, in the cold light of day, had she told him too much? She’d never poured her heart out to anyone on that level before. So that made her a trusting fool or just plain desperate. Either way she wouldn’t be doing it again. She didn’t want anyone knowing enough to go to the papers. Experience told her he’d get a pretty penny for dishing the dirt on her. Experience also told her no matter how much a man got her to trust him, he always broke it in the end.

  No sign of Jaxon, but the sound of rushing water meant he must be taking a shower. Great, no lasting damage from his ill-judged pity party. But boy, she had a lot to say to him this morning.

  Starting with a hefty dose of tough love.

  Levering Zac’s arm from her chest she wriggled sideways to the edge of the bed. Leaving him was hard, but staying would be so much harder in the end.

  ‘Bye,’ she whispered into the duvet.

  ‘Hey, come back.’ He grunted, pulled her closer, then continued to snore gently. What was it with these men and snoring? She waited a few seconds until he’d drifted back off, then wriggled again.

  He wriggled back in rhythm. Something hard and hot jabbed into her thigh.

  No.

  God. No. Please. Not here. Not him. Not this.

  She swallowed deeply, refusing to acknowledge the tingles of electricity firing through her body, the shot of awareness in her abdomen. The temptation to run her fingers over his lips, to hold him, taste him again, almost overwhelmed her.

  This could not be happening. She could not want to touch Zac, to lie here in his arms and imagine what he’d feel like inside her.

  She couldn’t want to kiss him again, so much that she had a physical ache. Or to enjoy the slice of joy in her heart at waking up next to him.

  You are a physio for the Auckland Jets. He is the doctor. You have been caring for a client together. No more.

  Her body shook with the desire racing along her veins. How easy it would be to take him in her hands and pull him into her. Would that be all kinds of wrong?

  Of course it would.

  Trying to control her breathing she turned carefully to face him, all the better to edge her bottom out of the covers, away from his...away from him. She stole a quick look at his face. Her heart swelled at the sight of him. His mouth curved in a tiny smile, thick eyelashes brushing his cheeks. Beautiful. Annoying in so many ways, but beautiful too.

  She needed perspective and space. A long walk, a jog, a damned marathon. Whatever it took to shake off this feeling. But she was stuck here. She couldn’t go anywhere until Jaxon vacated the bathroom. Above everything else she needed to check on her patient.

  ‘Good morning, princess.’ Zac’s eyes fluttered open and a long slow grin spread across his face. He waggled his hips and erection towards her. Which was both horrifying and delicious at the same time. ‘Sometimes you just don’t need words.’ He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

  ‘And sometimes you just need a cold shower.’ Wriggling was over; now she jumped out from under the covers. ‘It’s high time we got dressed.’

  ‘Well, that’s a shame.’ He lazily rolled over onto his back. His hair was dishevelled and he had the tiniest of crinkles round his eyes. Why did he seem to get more gorgeous the more she looked at him? ‘We could have had some early-morning exercise.’

  ‘How about a long walk, off a short pier?’ She threw her pillow at his head. This time she hit the target with a thwump. ‘Do you always wake up so irritatingly fresh?’

  ‘Absolutely. Perky and ready to go.’

  ‘Well, next time don’t.’

  His grin widened. ‘Next time? You mean we get to do this all over again?’

  ‘What? You had fun? Getting very little sleep on a tiny backless couch, clearing up the bodily fluids of a sozzled rugby player and listening to the dulcet strains of the philharmonic snoring orchestra?’

  ‘Well, you had most of the duvet, and you spent the night with me... Some women would pay a lot of money for that.’

  ‘Then they have more money than sense.’

  ‘You didn’t think that in the lift.’

  ‘You are so delusional.’ Gibing, laughing and the promise of sex. Was this how it would be if she woke up with him every morning?

  Like that could happen. Guys like Zac didn’t do the whole relationship thing. He was a player. Like Paul. Like her father. She doubted he knew what the word commitment meant. And most certainly didn’t want to lose her heart to that kind of man again.

  He sat up and folded his arms across his chest. ‘So how is our wonderful patient?’

  ‘Taking too long in the shower.’ She shrugged on Zac’s hoodie, pulled his condoms from the pocket, tutted loudly at him and threw them in the bin.

  ‘Hey! I might need them.’

  ‘I heard you had plenty more. Bet you didn’t have this kind of sleeping with Dani on your mind?’ Served him right for assuming something so far off kilter.

  And yet...she’d opened her heart to him and he’d seemed genuine and caring. She hadn’t pegged him as the sensitive type. But he hadn’t made a real pass at her, even though they’d been in a prime position to do so. God, the man made her all kinds of confused. Which made her all kinds of angry.

  She hammered on the bathroom door. ‘Hey, Jaxon, there’s a worldwide water shortage. Four-minute showers, please.’ She turned and tried not to look
at Zac’s suntanned chest as she spoke to him. ‘How was he on your shift?’

  ‘I nearly contacted noise control to measure his decibels. There’s got to be a health and safety risk there—I should have been issued with earplugs.’ He shrugged, twisted round to stand.

  ‘No. Stay there.’ There had to be a law against having a body that good. If she had to look at it for any length of time she couldn’t trust her actions. ‘Duvet up. Thanks.’

  Snuggling back under the covers, with a confused look in his eyes, Zac continued, ‘He was sick once, then slept the sleep of the dead. Lucky for him we have the morning off. I think he’s past the worst, but he’ll have a headache from hell this morning. And probably won’t feel much like eating for a while.’

  ‘Good.’ She crossed the room and picked up the phone receiver. ‘Room service? Three full English breakfasts please. Heavy on the grease.’

  Zac’s eyebrow raised. ‘But, Dani...everyone makes mistakes.’ His mimick of her voice was remarkably good; she almost laughed.

  ‘Yes, well, he’s going to pay for his. This is the best way I can think of. Then you, me and him are going to sit down and have a long frank chat about the dangers of alcohol, being a supportive team player and how he put all of our jobs on the line. He needs to pay back.’

  ‘Or pay it forward.’ Zac scratched a hand over his morning stubble. He looked pensive for a moment. The soft change in his voice a surprise. ‘Do you have plans for this morning? I know we’re busy with training, hot pools and that dinner tonight, but we have a few hours.’

  In reality she’d planned to run an extra injury clinic, catch up on her notes and have a long hot bubble bath. Some well-earned Zac-free me-time. But suddenly all that faded into... ‘Nothing particular. What do you have in mind?’

  He frowned, seemed to be battling something in his head. He was formulating a plan. Whatever it was, it involved her. Her heart rate notched up a gear. He nodded. ‘Since these players are supposed to be doing their very best to be good role models to Kiwi kids, and not getting blotto in the bar, you and I are going to take Jaxon on a little trip.’

  * * *

  ‘Treetops?’ Beside Zac, in the passenger seat, Dani pointed to the roadside sign. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘It’s a respite home for physically challenged kids.’ Zac turned the hire car into the long tree-flanked driveway, his grip on the steering wheel tightening along with his chest. A huge brick settled in his throat and threatened his ability to speak. What the hell was he doing?

  As if waking up with her in that slinky red satin thing that barely covered her curves, and his very friendly full salute, hadn’t been foolish enough, coming out to Treetops was probably one of the most stupid things he’d blundered into without thinking.

  Bringing an audience to one of his most private places? So private he’d never found the courage to come here himself. And hell, he didn’t share this kind of stuff. Didn’t want more questions, to relive the dark times.

  But after seeing Dani open up a bit he determined to do the same. Give a little. And teach Jaxon a salient life lesson too.

  Only, this wasn’t opening up, this was laying his soul bare. Something he’d never been able to do before.

  Question was, was he ready to give this part of himself?

  He dug deep to find his usual jokey repartee but it had done a bunk, so he sucked in a breath and pointed to a cluster of buildings. Even though he’d never visited he knew the layout with his eyes closed. Not one detail had been spared in the planning and he’d overseen it all. From a distance. ‘That’s the adapted gym and climbing wall. There’s also a small cinema chill-out area, a swimming and kayaking pool and, of course, the stables.’

  ‘Stables? Excellent.’ Dani’s voice was laced with admiration as she looked across the courtyard and beyond to the rolling volcanic hills and Rotorua town in the distance.

  From here they could see steam curling into the sky from the thermal pools straight ahead, and to the right, the famous gondola and luge track. Thick lush forest bordered the turquoise lake. Rotorua was a playground for outdoor sports. He wondered whether he should have gone bungee-jumping with the other guys instead. Plunging headfirst hundreds of feet into a dingy chasm seemed much more appealing right now.

  But Dani’s eyes shone and she looked in awe of the place. Good call. ‘When I was training I volunteered at a local stables and helped run the riding-for-disabled programme. I loved it—almost as much as the kids.’

  And he loved the way her cheeks had pinked up, her eyes darting around taking it all in. It gave him the power punch he needed.

  ‘Let’s get out and I’ll show you the rest.’ He walked Dani and a trailing Jaxon along the ramps connecting the buildings to a horseshoe courtyard filled with play equipment. ‘We had fun choosing these. This modular playzone looks like any regular play park, but it has extrawide seats, a drag ramp and rubberised deck, so any child of any ability can use it. The go-karts are customised—although we still have problems with dangerous drivers.’

  Dani nodded, clearly looking over the place with her professional eye. ‘Very inclusive—there’s something for everyone, regardless of ability.’

  ‘That’s the idea.’ His attention turned to the large colonial villa, brightly painted in bold primary colours. ‘It’s meant to be a home from home, just for a few days, or weeks, to give families some fun times. By all accounts the kids love it.’

  ‘By all accounts?’

  ‘We’ve kept all the thank-you letters on file. I don’t get the chance to visit.’ Hadn’t made the chance to visit. ‘Seeing as we’re only an hour’s drive away I thought we should pop over. I’m sure the children would be thrilled to have Jaxon throw a ball around. What do you say, Jaxon?’

  ‘Sure.’ The young lad shrugged and emanated his trademark one-syllable responses. His colour had picked up and, since Dani’s inspired breakfast, he’d managed to utter the word sorry. But that was all they’d got out of him. He stuck his hands deep in his pockets and looked like he thought heaving into a hotel toilet might be more preferable to being here.

  ‘Zac? Hi. You found us okay?’ A familiar deep male voice had him swivelling round. Tom. His heart lifted a little. If he was shocked, angry or surprised to see him here after all this time Tom didn’t show it. But then emotion was something he rarely saw on Tom’s face—Zac didn’t hang around to socialise after the trust board meetings in Auckland.

  Zac found a smile, stretched out his hand, unsure as to whether Tom would even take it. ‘Good to see you.’

  ‘About time you actually set foot in the place.’ Tom lifted his arm from his wheelchair rims and shook. Zac’s continued absence from Treetops had been an embarrassment that had turned into an in joke. It was about as close to a laugh together as they got these days. Always, the spectre of that tragic day hung between them. ‘Dani, Jaxon, this is Tom, founder and medical resident of Treetops. Tom, these are the special visitors I told you about on the phone.’

  Tom nodded and smiled at the pair. His gaze landed on Dani and his eyebrows knotted.

  Sure, go ahead and ask. Zac smiled back. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here either.

  Tom seemed to think better than to ask awkward questions; he pushed open the main house door. ‘The kids are just finishing off their archery session, then we’ll have morning tea and maybe some murderball? What do you say, Jaxon? You up for it?’ He looked at Jaxon expectantly. But the young player kept quiet, looking more terrified than taking a match-winning penalty in front of a crowd of sixty thousand.

  ‘It’s wheelchair rugby,’ Zac explained. ‘Maybe you can teach them some ball-handling skills? How to pass off both hands? That’d be a good start.’ Zac tried to give Jaxon an encouraging smile. He knew—hoped—that once the whistle blew Jaxon would find some enthusiasm. ‘That’s before they trounce you in a game.’

  Now the talk had turned to something the kid could engage in he did seem to relax a little. Or maybe it
was the thought of losing that had blood rushing into his cheeks. ‘Okay. I s’pose.’

  A riot of noise met them as they wandered through the house towards the dining area and back garden; wide decks opened to boardwalk tracks zigzagging across acres of grassland. Over the hill came eight wheelchairs at full pelt.

  ‘Steady on now! Slow down. We have guests. Don’t want to scare them off.’ Tom called them all to order and explained over muffins and hot chocolate that Jaxon was here to teach them a few moves. So far the star had remained silent and rigid in the corner, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his face with food. The munchies, Zac suspected, had taken hold.

  He also knew that being left alone with these boisterous teenagers would be a much better introduction to the place—and the reason he’d been brought here, rather than being scrutinised by a group of grumpy adults. ‘Okay, kids, why don’t you take Jaxon over to the gym and teach him the murderball rules?’

  ‘Sure. Then we can whip his...’

  Zac cut in. ‘Now, now, ladies present. Be gentle with him. Give him a wheelchair too. Play fair.’

  One of the boys threw Jaxon a ball, which he caught and passed straight back, rapid fire. ‘It’s the wrong shape, man.’

  ‘Aww, can’t play with a round ball, bro?’

  Jaxon grinned. ‘Sure I can.’ They did a few passes in quick succession.

  ‘We can do more with wheels than you can with legs, man.’

  Jaxon caught the ball, twirled it on his finger and finally managed a smile. ‘Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that. Show me the way.’

  Left in peace they helped Tom to clear up. Zac’s hands moved cups and plates, but his gaze followed Dani. She wandered across the dining room looking at the many photographs of camps and holidays at the centre filling the walls. When Tom left to answer a phone call Zac went to her side. ‘What do you think?’