Just this once, please be sensible and safe. I’ve already lost one man in our lives because he was a hero. I can’t lose another.
She wanted to stop him, to hold on to him and hug him, to tell him not to do anything stupid, but he wasn’t going to listen. Knowing that didn’t prevent the words that spilled out of her mouth.
‘So you’ll rush out into the water, regardless of your own safety? Never mind anyone else. Never mind the people who care about you. Like a damned hero.’
Ben stepped close and leaned near, so that only she heard the anger in his voice. ‘It’s not your place to be talking to me like this, Doc.’
Dear Reader
The Cook Islands are magical, and to spend a few days relaxing in Rarotonga is what dreams are made of. The first time I visited was with my husband, to attend a wedding. Nearly forty of us made the journey across from New Zealand, and we had so much fun that we went back a year later with our family. The beaches, the warmth, the motor scooters that we all learned to ride (and which I drove into the garden by mistake, because there’s no difference between the throttle and the brake) all added up to a package of fun.
This tiny nation is the perfect backdrop for Rachel and Ben’s story. Two bruised souls looking to move forward but afraid to take big steps. And what gets bigger than falling in love? Where better for them to test the waters of that love than here, where not a lot happens and everyone is very laid-back?
For Rachel the contrast with working in a hospital in the winter of London couldn’t be bigger. For Ben the Cook Islands are also very different from his native New Zealand. The slower pace and fewer big-time criminals make policing very different from back home. It also gives him the opportunity to ponder whether he could revert back to the medical career he abandoned two years earlier.
I hope you enjoy this story.
Cheers!
Sue MacKay
www.suemackay.co.nz
With a background of working in medical laboratories and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAYwrites Medical Romance stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her own hero in the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she indulges her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.
Also by Sue MacKay:
THE DANGERS OF DATING YOUR BOSS
SURGEON IN A WEDDING DRESS
RETURN OF THE MAVERICK
PLAYBOY DOCTOR TO DOTING DAD
THEIR MARRIAGE MIRACLE
These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Every Boy’s Dream Dad
Sue MacKay
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Once again to Lindsay, a big thank you
for your endless support and encouragement.
You are my very own romantic story.
KNOCK. Knock. Bang. Bang.
Rachel grimaced as the pounding on her front door grew heavier with each passing second. It matched the thumping behind her eyes. ‘Not now. Please. I’m all peopled out for the day.’ There’d been a continuous stream of welcoming locals since sunrise—which came incredibly early in the Cook Islands. She sighed.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
She huffed out an exasperated breath. Whoever was out there hadn’t received her telepathic message. She’d have to tell them straight to their face to go away.
Rachel didn’t bother with a smile as she swung the door wide. ‘Yes?’
The harsh glare of the overhead light made her blink. But she couldn’t blame the light for her throat abruptly closing up, or for how the heat-induced moisture on her skin that had plagued her all day suddenly dried.
On her front step stood a human behemoth. So what? She was used to big men. They held no thrall for her. So why the sudden lurch in her tummy? The quickening of her blood? Forget it, Rachel. She had no desire to hook up with anyone any time soon, if ever. Her new start in life did not include finding a soulmate. Or even a playmate. It was meant to be about finding peace and forgiveness, about letting go the despair that had kept her in a holding pattern for nearly two years.
But this man did have a body to drool over. He’d need to turn sideways to fit through her door. Not that he would be gaining access tonight. Or any other day or night. She tried swallowing, but she couldn’t.
‘She’s cut herself.’ A deep rumble shook her. ‘And got a black eye.’
‘What?’ Finally she noticed the tiny island lady in the man’s arms. Blood coursed down the wounded woman’s thigh to drip on to Rachel’s step.
‘You’re Dr Simmonds,’ her male visitor rumbled again.
No, right now she was a weary mother with a bewildered little boy whom she’d only just managed to settle for the night. Tomorrow she’d be the doctor everyone was waiting for. ‘You need to take her to the hospital.’
‘You’re closer.’
How did he know who she was? She’d arrived in Rarotonga only two days ago. Of course. The community grapevine, and the many locals who’d paid her their respects throughout the day. Her sluggish, aching brain wasn’t operating very well right now. Not when her bed beckoned so invitingly at the ridiculously early hour of eight o’clock. It had been a long and busy day that had started a little after four in the morning when roosters in the vicinity of the house had begun crowing.
Her visitor stood waiting, his gaze demanding her attention as he held the wounded woman. Black eyes, sharp and intense. Eyes that wouldn’t miss a thing, including that she wanted him gone.
Resigned to the fact he wasn’t taking the hint to disappear, Rachel stepped back. She couldn’t withhold her help—being a doctor wasn’t something she switched on and off as it suited her. She never refused aid to anybody needing her medical skills. Anyway, it was her new role in this small nation to look after the woman. ‘Take her through to the lounge.’
‘Yes, Doc.’ The man carried his load with ease, and placed the silent woman on the couch with heart-wrenching gentleness.
There went the clean cover. So much for washing it earlier. She’d be doing it again in the morning. Rachel flicked on the light and shook her head. So much for remembering to buy light bulbs with decent wattage while at the supermarket earlier. Not that she’d been going to spend time in this room tonight so the gloom hadn’t been a problem—until now. Kneeling beside the couch, she spoke softly to her patient. ‘I’m Rachel Simmonds, the new doctor.’
The woman opened one eye—the other was swollen closed—and studied Rachel curiously for a few moments before the eyelid drooped shut. But not before Rachel noted the pain lurking in that enormous brown orb. One cheek bled slightly from deep scratches. Twisting her head around, she asked the man, ‘Do you know what happened?’
‘She’s dazed. Might’ve been unconscious briefly.’
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