Career Girl in the Country / The Doctor's Reason to Stay (5 page)

It had been a very long time since he’d got drunk, but during the first few weeks after returning to Bundallagong, alone, it had been a regular event. It had been the only surefire way to stop the dreams that broke his sleep and took him back to the heart of his grief, never allowing him any time to breathe without it. But the morning he’d woken up on the back steps after sleeping rough because he hadn’t been able to work out how to put the key in the lock had been the day he’d stopped drinking hard. That, and the fact he knew it was a very fine line between himself and the alcoholics he treated in Emergency.

He’d been sober for weeks. He’d even started running again at dawn now he was able to get out of bed without a thundering headache, but Poppy Stanfield’s arrival had changed everything. The only way he was going home tonight was completely buzzed so he could fall into the black oblivion of deep and uninterrupted sleep.

He threw back a shot. God, he hated himself. He despised the way he couldn’t get Poppy out of his mind when he should be honouring Lisa’s memory. He couldn’t believe that on Monday night he’d left the
hospital on time and cooked a meal in anticipation of Poppy’s arrival home. All day she’d jumped in and out of his thoughts and he’d found himself looking forward to sitting down at a table with her, hearing about her day and sharing his own with a living person rather than the silent walls of the house.

But he’d eaten alone. By 10:00 p.m. he’d thrown out the food and gone to bed—to bed but not to sleep. His silent monologue had veered between cursing life in general that he no longer had Lisa and Annie, and cursing himself that he’d been so pathetic as to think he could try and have a normal evening, although he had no clue what normal was any more. He’d heard her car pull in at midnight and when he’d finally fallen asleep, his dreams had been filled with a woman who had looked like Lisa but whenever he’d got close, he could only see vibrant blue eyes. Poppy’s eyes.

He spoke to the barman. ‘I’ll have another Scotch and …’ He turned to the pilot. ‘What can I buy you, Damien?’

‘Soda water, thanks, I’m on call. Your night off?’ ‘Yep.’

‘Hey, Doc, third drink in an hour—time for your keys.’ Lewis, the barman, held out a container with a couple of sets of car keys at the bottom.

‘I walked, Lew.’ He had a standing arrangement with the barman so he avoided doing anything really stupid. A couple of times soon after Lisa’s death, when being alive had almost been too much to bear, he’d got way too close to stupid.

‘Good to hear it.’ Lewis slid the two drinks across the counter.

Damien sipped his and surveyed the room. ‘So
how’s that guy I flew down to Perth the other night getting on?’

‘Not bad. You’ll probably be transporting him back here in a couple of weeks.’

Damien raised his hand in a wave and Matt glanced around to see who’d caught his attention. With a shot of surprise he recognised Sarah Fielding. Why on earth was Sarah beckoning Damien?

She and Lisa had been firm friends from the moment the Fieldings had arrived in town and as a result the two young families had socialised together a lot. Since coming back to Bundallagong, he’d only seen Justin at hospital functions and at the GP in-service he conducted every few months. He hadn’t been able to face a social gathering with Sarah and the kids.

He stared at her and then made out Jen’s profile behind her, before realising there was a third person at the table.

Surprise rolled through him. Poppy sat on a chair, looking awkward and completely out of place.

Sarah arrived at the bar, her gaze cautious, and she seemed to breathe in before she spoke. ‘Justin was sorry you didn’t make golf the other day, Matt. He’s on for next Wednesday and looking for a partner, so call him?’

He didn’t want to play golf. ‘Sure.’

She nodded, her expression worried, and then she turned and gave Damien a flirty smile. Sliding her arm through the pilot’s, she urged, ‘Come and meet our new surgeon. She has the most amazing eyes you’ve ever seen and is in town for three months with no one to play with.’

Damien looked over Sarah’s head towards the table of women. ‘Ebony and ivory?’

Matt didn’t like the way the pilot was scoping out Poppy and his voice came out on a growl. ‘That’s her, but be warned: just like a praying mantis, she’ll play with you and then she’ll eat you.’

But instead of being put off, the pilot grinned. ‘I love a challenge.’ He slid off the bar stool and strode towards the table.

The thought of Damien hitting on Poppy had Matt up and off the stool.
What are you doing? She’ll probably tear strips off glamour boy and even if she doesn’t, what do you care?

But he picked his drink up anyway and let his feet carry him to the table. He arrived just as Damien was suggesting to Poppy that the only way to really appreciate the Pilbara was from the air.

Poppy’s fine black brows rose in a look Matt was starting to recognise as pure sarcasm. ‘If flying means not missing out on every single millimetre of the thousands of kilometres of endless, flat gibber plain and red dust, yes, I suspect you’re right. Fortunately I flew in on a clear day so I don’t feel the need repeat it any time soon.’

Damien looked slightly taken aback that his usual invitation had failed and Matt hid a smile before sitting down next to Poppy. Her fresh floral scent hinted at the newness of spring and it spun around him, urging every cell in his body to lean in close and breathe deeply. ‘Actually, the only way to appreciate the unconventional beauty of this area is by four-wheel drive and getting a hands-on perspective.’

‘Unconventional is right.’ Poppy’s fingers closed around the base of the pendant at her neck.

Jen’s quizzical expression moved between Poppy
and Matt. ‘Matt’s right. You should make sure you visit Walker’s Gorge while you’re here.’

‘It’s a fair distance from here, though. I could fly you in,’ Damien countered. ‘Just let me know when you have a free day.’

Poppy’s hand fell back to her lap and she gave a short laugh. ‘That’s very kind but given that my surgical list is endless, and Sarah’s already shanghaied me into starting a women’s choir, I think my time in Bundallagong is pretty much full.’

A choir.
Matt did a double-take, not able to imagine her in a musical role, but was that just another piece of the puzzle that was Poppy? His eyes met hers and he watched the vivid blue of her irises almost disappear into rapidly dilating inky discs. A flash of undisguised attraction burned bright for a heartbeat and then faded, but not before a wave of her heat crashed into him. Like a chain reaction, every part of him vibrated with hungry need.

She pulled her gaze away and rose to her feet, her movements jerky. ‘Thanks, everyone, for the welcome drinks. It was really kind but it’s time to call it a night.’

Damien moved towards her.
No way, mate.
For the second time, Matt found himself shooting to his feet and he spoke without thinking. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Her fingers tugged at the fine, silver pendant and her expression mixed hesitation with determination. ‘Really, there’s no need.’

But he wasn’t letting her leave alone or giving glamour boy an opening so he shrugged casually. ‘I need the ride.’ Instinctively, he slid his hand into the small of her back and guided her around the group, through the crowd and out into the night, ignoring the stunned looks of his colleagues.

The heat from Matt’s hand flooded Poppy, streaming through her veins like hot vapour and culminating in a tingling pond of undeniable lust. Her breath came too fast and the muscles in her legs threatened to melt as the sensations spun through her with their intoxicating promise of pleasure.

Pull yourself together. It’s just the touch of a well-mannered man. Steven had exemplary manners and remember what happened?
The thought grounded her momentarily. Gathering her tattered self-control, she passed through the doorway into the starlit night and stepped away from his touch.

She hadn’t been surprised that Matt had been drinking alone at the bar, given the way he held himself aloof from people and coupled with the townsfolk not seeming to know how to treat him, but the fact he’d joined them at the table had caught her off guard. His offer to leave with her had totally floored her. From the moment he’d sat down next to her she’d struggled to keep up with the conversation as every part of her had been absorbed by his closeness.

Now his gaze stayed fixed on her, and she shivered.
Find your strength, defuse the tension.
‘Where’s your car?’

‘At home.’ He had no trouble matching her stride. Unlike her stiff and jerky gait, his was fluid. ‘I walked because I’d planned to drink more than the legal driving limit.’

He didn’t look drunk and she wouldn’t call him relaxed but something about him was different. Less guarded perhaps? ‘And have you?’

‘Probably.’ He leaned casually against the car, waiting, with his toned arms crossed over his T-shirt-clad
chest and the light from the streetlamp spilling over him. It gave him the quintessential look of a bad boy.

Her mouth dried and her well of strength drained away. Flustered, she dropped her gaze and fumbled in her handbag, searching for her car keys. She breathed out in relief when her fingers closed over metal and she quickly activated the lock release button and swung up into the vehicle. She just had to get through a short drive. How hard could that be?

He sat down next to her, filling the cabin with his fresh scent of laundry soap and everything male. She let it fill her nostrils, pour into her lungs, and suddenly her hands trembled.

Intelligent brown eyes zeroed in. ‘You OK to drive? We could always walk.’

‘I’m fine.’
Liar.
She wasn’t drunk but she was a long way from fine. With Matt so close her brain had closed down under the assault of her body’s wayward pleasure-seeking mission and she couldn’t think straight. She hit the on button of the radio with the palm of her hand, filling the cabin with music, and then she planted her foot. She tried valiantly to focus on the music but even that was against her with a raunchy song about make-up sex. Her hand wanted to leave the steering wheel, reach out and press her palm against the stubble on his cheek. She turned left at the first intersection and right at the second, and then drove straight.

‘Uh, Poppy?’

‘What?’ It came out far too snappy as her body mocked her every good intention to stay aloof by sending rafts of hot and cold streaking though her.

He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling forward. ‘I’m not so drunk that I don’t notice where we are.
You’re going the wrong direction and the house is back that way.’

She squinted through the windshield. Oh, God, he was right. With her mind complete mush, she’d taken the wrong turning at the first intersection and now she had no clue where she was. ‘It all looks the same at night.’

‘Sure, it pretty much does except for the bright lights of the port, which gives you a whopping big navigational tool.’ His voiced teased as he turned towards her, his face clear in the moonlight. His mouth was curved up into a broad smile, a smile that banished the usual hovering sadness as it raced to his eyes, creasing the edges and making them dazzle with fun and wicked intent.

She almost drove off the road.

She’d wondered what he’d look like when he truly smiled and now she knew—completely devastating. Hauling her gaze back to the road and loathing herself on so many levels for her total lack of control over her body, she tried desperately not to sneak another look at his sexy grin. Usually when she was proved wrong she got defensive, but there was something about the unexpected softness that had momentarily surrounded him that made her laugh. ‘I’ll concede you have a point.’ She slowed in preparation to do a U-turn.

‘Keep going. We’re pretty close to Estuary Road and you get a great view of the town from there. It looks pretty at night.’

She changed gears. ‘What, no red dust?’

‘The key to Bundallagong is to focus on the ocean. The turtles and the whales will amaze you.’ He stretched out his arm. ‘Turn here.’

The headlights beamed onto a break in the trees and
she slowly navigated the vehicle down a narrow track. ‘Are you sure this is a road?’

He leaned back in his seat. ‘You’re such a city girl. Live a little.’

‘I live plenty.’
You love deluding yourself, don’t you?

The track opened up into a wide parking area with a boat ramp and she parked. Matt jumped out of the car and quickly walked round the front of the vehicle, reaching her door before she’d finished unlatching her seat belt. Surprise piggybacked on every other rampaging emotion.

He opened her door. ‘Come on, you need to see this.’

She followed him across the stony area until they stood on the curve of the bay. Across the moonlit water, the massive port with its heavy equipment that looked like a scar on the landscape during the day sparkled white, yellow, blue and orange. ‘I concede it has its own charm.’

He laughed—a rich, deep sound that made her think of the bass notes of a clarinet. ‘Careful, Poppy, you’re in danger of gushing.’

He stood so close to her she could feel his heat, hear his breathing and smell his spicy scent—all of it swirling around her, taunting her to reach out and grab it for herself. ‘It’s nothing like I expected.’

His head leaned in, his eyes smoky and intense. ‘Nothing ever is.’

‘No.’ She barely got the word out as his breath caressed her face and her heart bruised itself against her ribs. She spoke almost as much to ground herself as to reply. ‘I belong in Perth.’

‘Who really belongs anywhere?’ His warm hand slid along her jaw, and then long, strong fingers tilted her
head. His dark hair fell forward, stroking her cheek, before his lips brushed hers—soft, hot, partially testing but mostly firm and sure.

He tasted of malt, tropical heat and arousal. He was kissing her and, God help her, she wanted it like her body needed air. Her hand wrapped around the back of his head and she pulled him into her, feeling the hard muscles of his thighs pressing against her and his heart thundering against her own. He murmured a groan and his tongue flicked at her closed lips, seeking entry, and she opened them to him, needing to have him inside her, wanting him to explore, lick, taste and take. Wanting him to treat her like a woman.