MELANIE MILBURNE - The Man with the Locked Away Heart

Melanie Milburne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

Title Page The Man with the Locked Away Heart Melanie Milburne www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author About the Author MELANIE MILBURNE says: ‘One of the greatest joys of being a writer is the process of falling in love with the characters and then watching as they fall in love with each other. I am an absolutely hopeless romantic. I fell in love with my husband on our second date, and we even had a secret engagement—so you see it must have been destined for me to be a Harlequin Mills & Boon® author! The other great joy of being a romance writer is hearing from readers. You can hear all about the other things I do when I’m not writing, and even drop me a line at: www.melaniemilburne.com.au ’

Dedication Dedication To my brother Edgar John Luke. Ed, you have been an amazing brother and a real believer in me right from the start. This one is for you with much love. XXX

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Copyright

MELANIE MILBURNEsays: ‘One of the greatest joys of being a writer is the process of falling in love with the characters and then watching as they fall in love with each other. I am an absolutely hopeless romantic. I fell in love with my husband on our second date, and we even had a secret engagement—so you see it must have been destined for me to be a Harlequin Mills & Boon® author! The other great joy of being a romance writer is hearing from readers. You can hear all about the other things I do when I’m not writing, and even drop me a line at: www.melaniemilburne.com.au’

Dedication

To my brother Edgar John Luke.

Ed, you have been an amazing brother and a real believer in me right from the start.

This one is for you with much love. XXX

‘THERE’S someone here to see you, Gemma,’ Narelles, the receptionist at the clinic, informed her as she popped her head around the consulting-room door.

Gemma looked up from the patient notes she was filling in before she left for the day. ‘Not another lastminute patient?’ she asked, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. She had been working twelve hours straight and could think of nothing better than driving back to Huntingdon Lodge to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

‘No,’ Narelle said, and cupping her hand around her mouth in a conspiratorial manner added in a stage whisper. ‘It’s a police sergeant.’

Gemma straightened her slumped shoulders like a puppet suddenly pulled up by strings. ‘A sergeant?’ she asked. ‘Why? What’s happened?’

Narelle’s eyes danced. ‘He’s the new cop. You know, the one we’ve been waiting for to replace Jack Chugg? He’s in the waiting room. I guess he just wants to make himself known to you. Do you want me to hang around while he’s here?’

Gemma pushed out from the desk and got to her feet. ‘No, you go on home, Narelle. Ruby and Ben will be missing you. You’ve already stayed way past your usual time. I didn’t realise Nick Goglin’s transfer to Brisbane would take so long.’

‘You think he’s going to make it?’ Narelle asked with a concerned frown.

Gemma hiked her shoulders up and down. ‘Who knows? With head injuries it’s always hard to predict the outcome. The neuro team in Brisbane will let us know as soon as he is assessed. All we can do at this stage is hope and pray he comes out of the coma with all his faculties intact.’

‘Yes, well, all of Jingilly Creek is behind him, and of course Meg and the kids,’ Narelle said. Her hand dropped from where it was holding the door ajar. ‘I’ll send your visitor in on my way out. Have a good one, Gemma.’

‘Thanks,’ she said as she quickly straightened the files on her desk. ‘You too.’

Gemma heard firm footsteps moving along the corridor and then there was a brief hard knock on the consulting-room door a moment or two later.

‘Come in,’ she said, fixing a pleasant but professional smile on her face.

As soon as the door opened she felt her eyes widen involuntarily and her smile falter. For some reason she had been expecting a slightly overweight, close-to-retirement-age cop, someone who would take up the remote Outback post until they finally hung up their badge for good. She had pictured in her mind’s eye a mid-height man with a balding pate and a belly that overhung his belt, similar to the recently retired Jack Chugg. She hadn’t for a moment conjured up a tall, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, dark-haired, gorgeous-looking man in his early to mid-thirties with a body that looked as if it would look even better without the covering of the blue denim jeans and white casual shirt he was wearing.

‘Dr Kendall?’ He moved across the floor to her desk in a couple of strides—most people took at least three or four—and held out his hand. ‘I am Sergeant Marc Di Angelo.’

Gemma put her hand in his and immediately felt as if he had zapped her with a Taser gun. Electric jolts travelled from her palm along the length of her arm. And even more shocking, disturbing and totally inexplicably, her heart gave a funny leap and skip and trip movement behind the wall of her chest. ‘Um—hi,’ she said, feeling her professional front peeling away like shedding skin as she met his dark-as-espresso, coffee-brown eyes.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you at the end of the day,’ he said. ‘But I have not long arrived in town and thought I should drop by and introduce myself.’

‘Um … would you like to sit down?’ she asked, waving a hand towards one of the two chairs she had positioned beside her desk so as not to intimidate her patients. Now she wished she had the barrier of her desk between the sergeant’s long legs and hers. It seemed far too intimate a distance when he sat down soon after she had taken her own chair. If he moved his legs even a fraction, they would touch hers. He had powerful-looking legs, long and strong with well-developed muscles. She tried not to look at his quadriceps as they bunched beneath the fabric of his jeans but her gaze felt drawn to them as if pulled by some invisible force. She quickly fixed her gaze on his and her heart did another funny little stop-start. His eyes were so dark she felt compelled to stare at him. They were so dark and secretive, mysterious, closed off, locked down, as if he had seen too much and was not prepared to let anyone else catch even a glimpse of what it had done to him. ‘Welcome to Jingilly Creek,’ she said, working extra-hard at keeping her professional poise on track. ‘I hope you enjoy your time here.’

His gaze was unwavering on hers and his expression—like just about all of the cops snthe had met in the past on business—was completely and utterly unreadable. ‘From what I have seen so far, it is certainly going to be a change from the city,’ he said.

In spite of his casual attire, Gemma could see the slick city cut to his jeans and shirt and the totally urban look he had in terms of grooming. The thick dark locks of his wavy hair were controlled by some sort of hair product, and his lean, fashionably unshaven jaw hinted at the potent male hormones surging around his body. She wondered why he of all people had taken such a remote post. She wondered too if he had brought anyone with him, a wife or girlfriend perhaps. She sidestepped her thoughts, annoyed at herself for even thinking about it. His private life had nothing to do with her. ‘Yes, well, it’s generally pretty quiet out here,’ she said. ‘But we have our moments.’