Sharon Archer - Bachelor Dad, Girl Next Door

Still, she was obviously made of stern stuff. She’d gone on to do her medical training.

He’d had no interest in women during the two and a half years since Sue-Ellen’s death. How damned inconvenient that the sexual spark missing in his life since then should choose to wake up now.

In Port Cavill. Of all places.

With a colleague. Someone he needed to work with for the next year. The time and place and person couldn’t be worse.

Terri parked the bike beside the cottage, thankful to have made the short journey without disgracing herself by stalling or missing a gear. Or dropping the bike. She huffed out a long breath before putting down the stand and dismounting on shaky legs.

Luke was back.

Helmet tucked under one arm, she collected her handbag from the top box. She’d known he was coming home, of course. Most of the Daniels family had been in a happy buzz of anticipation for the last couple of weeks.

Except for Will Daniels. He’d been upset that, despite his recommendation, the board had appointed Luke to the position of hospital director. A position she’d been acting in since Will’s myocardial infarct. Worse was that the notification had only come yesterday.

Terri had stifled her disappointment so she could reassure her convalescing boss that it didn’t matter.

But it did matter. She’d been relishing the responsibility. It was good for her, challenging, restoring her sense of self. Giving her a much-needed focus for her shattered life.

She sighed. Perhaps even more distressing was her ridiculous fluttery reaction to Luke. How long had it been since she’d felt that disturbing feminine awareness of a man? Such lightness had had no place in her life for so many years. To have it now felt wrong, frivolous.

She crossed to the door and let herself into the cottage. Her hand lingered on her helmet for a moment after she’d placed it on the hall-stand. When Luke had confronted her and Megan, the temptation to stay inside the fibreglass dome and hide behind the smoky Perspex visor had been overwhelming. Behaviour much more in keeping with the starry-eyed teenager she’d been last time they’d met.

Why couldn’t she have been caught on the ward, performing some marvellously complex medical procedure? Saving lives, saving the world, she mocked herself silently. That would have been too perfect.

She slipped off her jacket and hung it on the peg by the door. Naturally, Luke had to arrive a day early, catch her kitted out in motorcycle leathers and then mistake her for Megan’s boyfriend.

Still, she thought she’d handled the meeting with reasonable aplomb. Thanks to the helmet, she’d had a chance to gather her wits a little before revealing herself. If anything, it had been Luke who’d been nonplussed. Embarrassed by his mistake probably.

He’d hugged her. Spontaneously. She wrapped her arms around her body, remembering the feel of his firm hold, his torso pressed to hers for those long seconds. Not that it meant anything. The Daniels family was naturally, delightfully, demonstrative.

Unlike the O’Connors.

Unlike the Mitchells. Her husband’s family had saved their affections for their causes. And those they’d pursued with dedication and passion. No sacrifice too great. She grimaced, chiding herself for her disloyalty. Hating the bitterness of her thoughts.

In the kitchen, she filled the kettle. While she waited for the water to boil, she scanned the scrubby trees that bordered the back yard. The sandy path to the beach was well hidden. Astounding that she’d had the temerity to follow Luke down the track all those years ago. What a crush she’d had on him, poor sad child that she’d been.

She shook her head then spooned a scant teaspoon of coffee into a mug.

That was the past. This was now and she wasn’t an angstridden teenager any more.

She’d been married…and widowed. The explosion that killed her husband had ripped her life apart. She’d come to Port Cavill to give herself a chance to recover, to regroup. She’d come here for peace. Nothing more.

As she contemplated the future, she pursed her lips.

Stepping into the role of director had given her a new sense of purpose. She’d been doing a damned good job even if the paperwork part of the job wasn’t her forte.

Now she had to step aside.

Gracefully.

Luke’s return was difficult on so many levels. Peace would be in short supply while he was around.

She sighed. At least, their first meeting was over now. Next time she encountered him, she’d be working for him.

DRESSED only in jeans, Luke stood in the darkened room at the back of the house and stared moodily across the moonlit lawn. He could make out the hump of the small cottage sheltered by trees at the edge of the lawn.

Theresa’s place. No, not Theresa—Terri.

Was she tucked up, asleep? He glanced at his watch. Half past one in the morning. He’d be willing to bet she wasn’t lying awake thinking about him, the way he was about her.

He leaned his forearm on the wooden window-frame and contemplated his reaction to her that afternoon. Surely, it had to be a product of his recent upheavals—the move, travelling, worry over his father and Alexis.

He’d had eight happy years of marriage to Sue-Ellen. He’d loved his wife, damn it. During all the time they’d been together and since she’d died, he hadn’t looked at another woman.

Yet one tiny and very public hug with Terri had evoked such a powerful memory that he’d been swept back twelve years to the last time he’d held her in his arms. To a five-minute interlude on the beach.

Ridiculous. Potentially disastrous.

Luke rubbed his jaw, feeling the rasp of stubble. Perhaps he was over-thinking this. Perhaps it merely demonstrated that it was time he did start thinking about a relationship. Or at least start preparing Allie for the possibility that he might one day date. Bring someone, a woman, into the family. He tried to picture that day but long dark silky hair and hot chocolate eyes stayed stubbornly in his mind.

He gave up, let his thoughts dwell on the brief meeting that afternoon. The way Terri had deflected his condolences made him wonder about her. Was her grief still raw? Did she suffer any long-term post-traumatic stress symptoms? A gnawing ache settled in his chest for the pain she’d been through. He could only begin to imagine the difficulty of losing someone the way she had. So brutal and sudden.

He and Allie had had time with Sue-Ellen. Poignant time for words of love, reassurances, promises. Heartbreaking but enriching moments to cling to in the days, weeks, years that followed her death.

Terri hadn’t had that. She’d had no chance to say goodbye before her husband had been snatched away.

He needed to be mindful of that, sensitive to her needs, and be ready to offer counselling, in a professional capacity, if she needed it. As hospital director, the welfare of his staff was paramount. He was feeling the natural concern of a doctor for a colleague. Plus Terri wasn’t just a colleague, but the sister of a friend. The least he could do was offer support to Ryan O’Connor’s sister. Yes, that was more like it. He just needed to apply a bit of sound reasoning.

Through the loosely screening shrubbery, he saw the lights of the cottage come on. Almost as though the intensity of his musings had woken Terri.

He snorted out a small breath. How hopelessly fanciful. So much for the power of common sense.

A few minutes later, she walked across to the hospital in the moonlight. The ends of a stethoscope looped around her neck dangled darkly on her pale T-shirt. She seemed to look up at his window. A queer shaft of excitement made him draw a quick breath before he could block it.