The Courage to Love Her Army Doc (17 page)

He stood up, rubbed his hands over his scalp and sat down again. ‘I can't believe you did something so stupid.'

‘You're the one running away from this when we both know we have something special. In my book that's equally idiotic.'

His sigh came from somewhere deep inside him. Somewhere the truth was probably hiding. ‘I told you what happened in Afghanistan. I don't get close, I don't get hurt. Simple.'

He wasn't saying he didn't love her, didn't want to be with her. Reading between the lines, it was because of those reasons he was leaving. Her big brave army doc was afraid to admit to his feelings because of things that might never happen. It was something she could relate to when she'd spent her whole life trying to pre-empt the negative outcome of every situation.

‘That's not living. Loving someone, being loved, is part of life. You're the one playing it safe when you know sometimes the biggest risk brings the greatest rewards. What happened to going with the flow? Unless you missed it, things were flowing pretty great until you jumped into this boat and headed out to sea.' A destination that hadn't yet been corrected. If she didn't get through to him soon she'd be making the return journey with only a very tactful islander pretending not to notice her pouring her heart out.

‘I don't want you to get hurt.' He took her hand and rubbed the heat back into her fingers, showing he was always tending to her needs without even thinking about it.

‘You couldn't hurt me any more than you did by walking out on me without giving us a chance. I want to be with you. Beyond that we'll just see what happens.'

‘Damn. You got really bossy in the space of just a few days.' He was smiling as he linked his fingers through hers but she could see the turmoil in his eyes. It was going to be down to her to convince him to take a chance on love. The knowledge he wanted to be with her was powerful enough motivation for her.

‘I prefer to think of it as becoming more decisive. I'm taking charge of my life and I want you to be part of it. I love you, Joe Braden.' Her heart was pounding like a drum as she put it all on the line for him. Joe wasn't the only one taking a risk here. After everything she'd been through, starting a new relationship was like setting foot on Yasi all over again. She had no clue what she was letting herself in for and could only cross her fingers and hope that it would all turn out good in the end.

‘And I love this crazy, impulsive Emily. She sounds like the ideal travelling companion for lots of fun new adventures.'

Her heart felt as though it was beating for the first time it was so full of happiness to hear those words and know he meant them.

‘So what's the plan from here?' She wanted to go with the momentum, wherever it took them.

‘Well, there's a little place I know where we can reconnect and take some time out before we commit to that next step. Perhaps we could take a detour and get our captain to drop us off across the bay before the storm moves in.'

Another shiver rippled up and down Emily's spine, this time with anticipation. It was the ideal place to truly get to know each other and make plans for a future.

One thing was sure, with Joe in her life she'd never be boring again.

EPILOGUE

E
MILY
WOULD
NEVER
have believed she'd be back on Yasi Island within a year, much less for a wedding. Her wedding. She looked across at Joe, her husband-to-be, so handsome standing barefoot next to her on the beach. They were never going to have a traditional ceremony and had decided to incorporate elements from Fijian culture into their day.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.' Peter give them both a smile. Having him officiate made this day truly special, as did having the rest of her family here with them. There was quite a crowd assembled on the beach, all dressed in their finery.

Her wedding dress was a simple, white, strapless gown and Joe had gone with his white shirt and linen trousers. The festive garlands the islanders had bestowed on them, including the ring of flowers in her hair, brought a bright splash of colour to proceedings. Sou, Miriama, her stepmother, and all the other women from the village wore the traditional dresses made from tapa cloth and decorated with the red clay paint that had brought her and Joe so close that special day. The men, bar her father in his Hawaiian-style shirt, were in full warrior costume—she finally got to see the grass skirts! It was all so exotic and exciting it was no wonder she'd found it so hard to settle back home.

After she and Joe had spent the second week of her trip together almost twenty-four hours a day, it hadn't taken much persuading for him to go back to England with her. They'd tried to make it work there but ultimately she'd been the one craving everything Yasi had brought into her life. The regimented schedule had suddenly become too stifling for her and she'd seen Joe's relief when she'd finally admitted it. They didn't have to box themselves into a suburban life in order to be together and he'd proposed when she'd uttered those very words to him.

It had taken a few months to get their affairs in order but they'd both agreed they wanted their new start to begin where they'd first fallen in love. She was looking forward to spending time with Peter again but they hadn't made definite plans to make the island their permanent home. There was a whole world waiting for them out there.

‘I do.' Joe gave his promise to love, honour and comfort her, and Emily did the same in return. They'd been there for each other through so much already, to the point she wasn't even wearing her cover-up for her wedding day and his nightmares were becoming rarer with every passing night they spent in each other's arms.

They exchanged simple gold wedding bands as a token of their pledge of love for one another before her stepbrother pronounced them husband and wife and gave them permission to kiss in front of everyone.

‘I've never kissed a married woman before,' Joe said when they finally came up for air.

‘Well, make sure it's only
your
wife you're kissing,' she said with a grin to match his. ‘Wife' was a title she'd worn before but it no longer defined her. She was still Emily. This ring simply meant she was privileged to be sharing the rest of her life with Joe, and vice versa.

‘There's no one else I would want to do this with.' He took her hand and kissed her wedding finger, a sign he was talking about his next great adventure and not just a snog here and there. They were in this together.

As the
vakatara
—the orchestra—struck up their percussion instruments and the
matana
—dancers—assembled to begin the celebrations, Emily counted every one of her blessings. The biggest one of all she was yet to share with her new husband. She rested her hand on her slightly rounded belly. In seven months they would embark on a new chapter of their lives and all the new adventures parenthood would bring them.

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Karin Baine

THE DOCTOR'S FORBIDDEN FLING
A KISS TO CHANGE HER LIFE
FRENCH FLING TO FOREVER

All available now!

Keep reading for an excerpt from
REAWAKENED BY THE SURGEON'S TOUCH
by Jennifer Taylor.

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Reawakened by the Surgeon's Touch

by Jennifer Taylor

CHAPTER ONE

W
HAT
IN
HEAVEN
'
S
name was he doing here?

As the plane began the final stages of its descent, Jude Slater was struck by an unexpected rush of panic. Up to this point anger had buoyed him up. He had been so furious when his former mentor, a man he greatly admired, had accused him of choosing the easy option that he had set out to prove him wrong. Maybe it wouldn't have stung quite so much if Jude hadn't had the sneaking suspicion that the other man was right. He
had
been coasting for the past few years, although he had refused to justify himself by explaining why. He tried not to think about that period in his life; it was too painful. Suffice to say that he had paid his dues, even if it didn't appear so to an outsider.

Nevertheless, the accusation had spurred him on so that almost before he knew it, he had signed up to work for Worlds Together, a leading medical aid agency. True, he had been a little disconcerted when he had been invited for an interview a couple of weeks later and offered a post. He hadn't expected things to move quite so quickly but he had been determined not to back down. Nobody would be able to accuse him of losing sight of the real issues once he had done a stint overseas, he had assured himself. He would be accorded his true standing within the medical fraternity and that was all he wanted. It had all sounded so perfect in theory but now that he was about to land in the tiny central African country of Mwuranda reality had set in.

What did he know about the problems of working in the developing world? Jude thought a shade desperately. He was London born and London bred, and he thrived in the constant bustle of city life. When he travelled abroad, he visited other cities—New York, Paris, Rome—places where he felt at home. Wherever he went, he stayed in five-star luxury hotels too; however, recalling what he had been told at his interview—something about Mwuranda recovering from the effects of civil war—it appeared that five-star luxuries were going to be very thin on the ground here!

The plane rumbled to a halt and Jude unfastened his seat belt. Ten hours spent squeezed into a gap between piles of packing cases hadn't made for the most comfortable journey but, hopefully, things would improve from here on. The one thing he mustn't do was panic. Conditions couldn't be that bad or nobody would volunteer to work here, so it was just a question of putting everything into perspective. Maybe luxuries would be few and far between, but so long as he had the basic necessities he would cope. He was only here for three months and he could put up with a bit of hardship for that length of time.

Jude felt much better once he had reasoned everything out. He had been told that he would be collected from the airfield, so as soon as the ramp was lowered, he made his way out of the plane. His heart sank as he stepped onto the runway and looked around. All he could see in every direction was khaki-coloured landscape, the few scrubby trees which were dotted about providing the only relief from the monotony. It was mid-afternoon and the air was blisteringly hot. Apart from the plane he had arrived on, the airfield was deserted. He couldn't see any sign of a car waiting to collect him and his spirits sank even further at the thought of having to hang around in the heat until his transport arrived.

‘Dr Slater?'

The voice was female but that was the only indication of the speaker's gender, Jude discovered when he turned around. The figure standing before him was dressed in a bulky old boiler suit which completely disguised the wearer's shape. Heavy boots on her feet and an old baseball cap pulled low over her eyes completed her ensemble.

Jude could just make out the lower part of her face—a softly rounded chin and a mouth which was bare of any trace of lipstick. He had no idea if she was young, old or somewhere in between, and it was unsettling when it meant that he wasn't sure how to pitch his response.

‘That's right. I'm Jude Slater.' He held out his hand and smiled charmingly at her. ‘And you are—?'

‘Your driver.'

The woman ignored his outstretched hand as she stared past him into the hold and Jude felt himself bridle. Quite frankly, he wasn't used to women of any age ignoring him. The older ones wanted to mother him, the younger ones wanted to sleep with him, while those in between could go either way.

‘If you've brought any luggage with you then you'd better fetch it. There's a truck on its way to pick up our supplies, but there's no guarantee it will make it back to town tonight. It all depends how long it takes to unload the cargo.' The woman treated him to a cursory glance and he could tell how unimpressed she was by his attempts to charm her by the sneering curve of her unadorned lips. ‘We don't drive around after dark. It's far too dangerous.' Jude's chagrin faded in the face of this fresh snippet of information. He managed to hide his dismay but the situation seemed to be going from bad to worse at a rate of knots.

‘I'll get my bag,' he said shortly.

‘You do that. I just need a word with the pilot and I'll be right with you. The bike's over there.'

Jude stopped dead, wondering if he had misheard her. It had been extremely noisy in the plane and his ears were still ringing from the throbbing of the engines, but he could have sworn she had said something about a... ‘Bike?'

‘Uh-huh.' She pointed across the runway. ‘That's it over there. There's some rope under the seat, so I suggest you tie your bag onto the back. It should be safe enough so long as we don't hit too many potholes.'

Jude's jaw dropped when he spotted the battered old motorbike propped against the perimeter fence. Its bodywork was pitted with rust and even from this distance he could tell that the tyres were completely bald of any tread. She didn't
really
think that he was going to travel on the back of that thing, did she?

‘This is a joke, isn't it? Some sort of a...
stunt
you pull on new recruits like me?' His good humour returned in a rush as he realised what was going on and he laughed. ‘You wind us up by telling us that we're expected to ride on the back of that heap of junk and I, in my innocence, very nearly fell for it!'

‘I hate to disillusion you, Dr Slater, but it isn't a wind-up. We'll be travelling back to town on that bike, so I suggest you get your belongings together.' The woman pushed back her cuff. ‘It's almost two o'clock and I haven't got time to waste, hanging about here. If you don't want to spend the night sleeping in the plane then you'd better get a move on.'

With that she walked away. Jude watched her make her way over to where the crew were standing then realised that he was holding his breath. He breathed out and then in, but not even a fresh shot of oxygen made him feel any better. His gaze went to the rusty old motorbike and his mouth thinned. Given the choice, he would have refused to get on the blasted thing but he didn't have a choice, did he? He was a stranger in this country and one who knew very little about what it took to survive here too. He might be able to hold his own in any city in the world but he was as vulnerable as a newborn babe out here and it was galling to admit it.

He was used to running his life the way he chose these days. It had taken him a while to get back on track after he had quit working for the NHS and he had no intention of relinquishing his autonomy ever again. Maybe he was at a disadvantage here but he still intended to be in charge of his own destiny.

Jude took another deep breath and used it this time for a specific purpose, i.e. shoring up his anger. He would start as he meant to go on. No way was he going to be ordered about by some overbearing, pushy woman!

* * *

‘I'm sorry about the delay but our usual driver didn't show up this morning and we had to find a replacement.' Claire Morgan glanced at her watch again and frowned. ‘The truck should have been here by now, though, so I don't know what's happened to it. I'll have to check back with base and see if they've heard anything.'

She left the crew to begin the task of unloading the cargo and made her way over to the bike. Dr Slater had just finished roping his very expensive leather holdall onto the back and he looked round when he heard her approaching. Claire pulled the peak of her cap lower over her eyes, hating the fact that she felt it necessary to hide beneath it. She had hoped that she had got over this fear but as soon as she had seen Dr Jude Slater disembarking from the plane, her internal alarm bells had started ringing.

She knew what the problem was, of course: he reminded her of Andrew. There was something about that air of self-confidence he exuded that put her in mind of her ex so that it was an effort to carry on walking towards him. The thought of having to live with this fear gnawing away inside her for the next few months was more than she could bear, so maybe she needed to focus on the differences between the two men rather than the similarities?

It was worth a try, so Claire tested out the theory as she crossed the runway. Jude Slater was tall like Andrew, but whereas Andrew was heavily built, Jude had the lithely muscular physique of an athlete. Both men had dark hair, but Jude's hair was jet black with the hint of a wave to it whereas Andrew's was a rather muddy shade of brown and poker-straight. Jude's eyes were a different colour, too, Claire realised as she drew closer—a warm hazel with flecks of gold in them. Andrew's eyes were pale blue, very cold and frosty. In fact, if she had to choose one feature which she had disliked it would have been Andrew's eyes. Even when they had been sharing their most intimate moments, his eyes had never held any real warmth.

Claire sighed. With the benefit of hindsight, she could see that she should have taken it as a warning but she had been too besotted at the time to read the signs properly. It was a mistake she wouldn't make again. If she ever reached a point where she could consider having a relationship with a man again then she wouldn't choose someone who looked like Andrew or Jude Slater, for that matter.

‘Is everything sorted out?'

‘Nearly.' Claire's tone was clipped as she stopped beside the motorbike. She didn't look at him as she lifted the seat and took out the two-way radio transmitter. She had done her best—flagged up the differences—but it hadn't helped as much as she had hoped it would. She still had this deep-seated urge to run away and hide, and it was painful to acknowledge how little progress she had made in the past two years.

‘Nearly? So do I take it there's a problem?' he persisted, obviously not satisfied with her less-than-fulsome reply.

Claire ignored him as she tuned the radio to the correct frequency. Although most of the rebel fighters had been driven out of the area, there were still pockets of resistance and keeping in touch with base was vital.

‘Hello!'
He stepped forward and bent to peer under the peak of her cap. ‘I asked you a question. Did you hear me?'

Claire immediately recoiled. ‘Do you mind,' she snapped, twisting the dial this way and that in the hope that it would disguise the fact that her hands were trembling. She hated it when anyone invaded her personal space. It was a trick Andrew had used to intimidate her and even though there was no reason to think that Jude Slater was trying to do the same, she resented it. Bitterly.

‘I'm sorry. I just find it frustrating when people won't answer a simple question.'

He stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leant against the fence post, but Claire knew that he had sensed her discomfort. Colour ran up her face as she bent over the radio. Nobody knew about her past. Not even her family or her friends knew what she had been through. She had been too devastated to tell them the truth, that Andrew had forced her to have sex with him, that he had raped her. Women like her—intelligent, independent women—were supposed to be able to look after themselves. They weren't supposed to put themselves in a situation whereby something like that could happen. If they did then the consensus was that they were to blame for leading the man on.

It had taken Claire a long time to accept that she hadn't been at fault and that it was Andrew who was the guilty party. However, she knew how fragile her confidence was and there was no way that she was going to risk undoing all her hard work. Maybe Dr Slater wasn't cut from the same cloth but she wasn't going to test out
that
theory. For the next three months she intended to keep her distance from him and, more important, make sure he kept his distance from her.

‘I need to contact base,' she explained as coolly as she could. ‘The truck that was supposed to collect our supplies should have arrived by now and I need to find out what's happened to it.'

‘It could have broken down en route.' Jude shrugged when she looked at him. ‘If it's the same vintage as this machine then I'd say it's more than likely, wouldn't you?'

‘It's possible. But I drove along the route the truck would have taken on my way here and I didn't see any sign of it—' She broke off when the radio crackled. The reception was terrible and she winced when a series of ear-splitting shrieks erupted from the handset. Twisting the dial, she tried to find a better signal, but it was no clearer.

‘Here, let me have a go.'

He reached over and took the radio off her before she could object. He turned the dial the merest fraction and the next moment, Claire heard Lola's voice flowing across the airwaves. He handed the handset back to her with a smile that immediately set her teeth on edge. She knew it was silly to get upset over something so trivial, but his actions smacked of condescension and it was the one thing guaranteed to rile her.

Andrew had displayed the same high-handed attitude towards her. He had treated her with a mixture of charm and contempt from the moment they had met only she had been too naive to realise it. The way he had taken over at every opportunity had seemed touchingly gallant and she had enjoyed having him take care of her. It had taken her a while to realise that there was nothing gallant about his desire to rule her life, and definitely nothing gallant about the way he had reacted when she had told him that she no longer wanted to see him. Sickness roiled inside her at the memory and she forced it down. She had nothing to fear because she wasn't going to put herself in that position again.