Amy Andrews - Sydney Harbour Hospital - Luca's Bad Girl

‘Take your clothes off,’ he said, before pushing off her, padding over to the door and locking it.

‘You do realise this is a one-off, right?’ she said as she tried to wiggle out of her jeans essentially one-handed.

Luca turned and watched her. He could clearly see her nipples through the lace of her bra and it made him harder.

He undid his zip and peeled off his jeans. ‘Of course. My bedpost is littered with one-offs. Or hadn’t you heard?’

Mia went to grin but it died on her lips as the pure male beauty of his physique was fully exposed to her. Long, lean legs, dusted with black hair. Flat, flat belly. Broad in the shoulder, narrow in the hip.

And if the bulge in his snug cotton boxers was anything to go by, large, in all the right places.

She’d seen a marble statue just like him in Rome many years before. Luca di Angelo had Made in Italy stamped all over him.

Then he came to her, towering over her, snapping the lamp off, helping her out of her jeans, kissing her everywhere, arching her back over the arm of the lounge, thrusting her breasts upwards towards his eager mouth. Making her sigh. Making her whimper. Making her come.

And, best of all, making her forget.

Three days later Dr Finn Kennedy, chief of Surgery, strode into the emergency department on what he was sure was going to be a fool’s errand. He was tired. His upper arm had ached all night despite several shots of whisky, and he rubbed at it absently. His eyes felt scratchy and his damn nuisance thumb was numb and tingly.

He pulled up short as Evie approached him. Great, just what he needed. Dr Evie Lockheart. Princess Evie. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, working in her granddaddy’s hospital, a place still generously supported by the Lockheart family trust and her father in particular, who was treated like royalty by the boffins upstairs.

With absolutely no idea how hard ordinary people had it.

And the only woman in the entire hospital who seemed to be able to push his buttons. She didn’t simper or cower. Just looked at him patiently with those damn hazel eyes.

‘Dr Kennedy,’ she greeted him.

‘There’s a consult for me?’ he asked, not bothering to acknowledge her greeting. He had a feeling that she saw beyond his curt exterior and he didn’t like it.

The only other woman to have done that had been Lydia—his brother’s widow—and that had been an unmitigated disaster.

Evie refused to give Finn the satisfaction of seeing how his brusqueness grated. He wasn’t in the army any more and she wasn’t one of his soldiers to be ordered around. Instead, she launched straight into her spiel. Still, it didn’t stop her heart from pounding like a runaway train in her chest—she’d made an amazing incidental find and despite his gruffness she was desperate for his approval.

‘Twenty-two-year-old female, with a painful lump in her breast. Ultrasound identified a small benign cyst—’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Finn glared down at her, hands on hips. ‘You do know I’m a cardiac surgeon, right? That means stuff to do with the heart.’

Evie held his gaze and her tongue and continued as if he hadn’t just rudely interrupted her. ‘She also complained of fatigue, shortness of breath and intermittent chest pains. Incidental finding reveals bicuspid aortic valve with associated ascending aortic aneurysm.’

Finn stared at her. Was in hell was she on about? ‘Sure,’ he said sarcastically as he held out his hand. ‘Radiographer report?’

‘There isn’t one. Radiology was backlogged and the ultrasound was performed in the department.’

‘I see. By who, exactly?’ he demanded.

Evie’s gaze didn’t waver as his piercing blue eyes dared her to blink. ‘By me.’

Finn snorted. ‘You? You diagnosed a complex heart condition through a breast ultrasound?’

Evie crossed her arms too. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s not even remotely possible,’ he snapped.

Until right now, Evie would have agreed. ‘It is if the woman in question has very small breasts.’

Finn glared at her. Princess Evie—her place at the prestigious SHH emergency department no doubt paid for by her father’s huge donations—wasting his time. ‘Where’s the patient?’

‘Cubicle fifteen,’ she said calmly.

‘What have you told her that I’m going to have to untell her?’ he asked silkily.

‘I told her I couldn’t get a good enough angle and I was going to call for someone more experienced,’ Evie bristled. ‘I did go to medical school, Dr Kennedy,’ she said frostily.

‘Really? Daddy couldn’t fast-track you, then?’

Evie ignored the dig. ‘I graduated top of my year.’

‘He gives to the university too, then?’ Finn retorted, before turning on his heel and heading for the indicated cubicle.

Evie’s heart tripped in her chest as she struggled to keep up with his long-legged stride. But even falling flat on her face would be worth it just to see the look on Finn’s when her diagnosis was confirmed.

Finn snapped back the curtain and introduced himself to a petite young woman in a hospital gown who was chewing on her bottom lip. He smiled at her. ‘Hello. Bethany, is it?’ he asked, consulting her chart. ‘I’m Dr Kennedy. Dr Lockheart’s asked me to have a look at you.’

‘Is something wrong?’ Bethany asked, looking from one doctor to the other.

Finn patted her hand. ‘Give me one minute and I’ll be able to tell you.’

He turned away to the compact mobile ultrasound machine and shot Evie an exasperated look. It was hardly the most sophisticated machine in their radiology arsenal. He found it hard to believe anyone could diagnose a potentially fatal heart problem on something so basic.

He picked up the transducer from its cradle fiddled with the pulse settings and the screen brightness and turned to back to Bethany, who’d already opened her gown and put her arm above her head.

Finn squeezed a blob of warmed gel on Bethany’s chest, noting that she did indeed have practically nonexistent breast tissue. ‘Okay, here goes,’ he murmured as he ploughed the transducer through the middle of the gel.

He ignored Evie, who was standing at his elbow, and concentrated on the small screen as the grainy grey and black image of Bethany’s pumping heart came into view. It took him less than a minute to concur with Evie’s very impressive diagnosis.

He flicked a glance at her and met her unwavering hazel gaze. There was no triumph or smugness there, just complete confidence in her diagnosis, and he felt a rather foreign feeling of grudging respect.

Maybe there was more to her than the Lockheart name.

‘Is everything okay?’ Bethany asked.

Finn shook his head. ‘No. There’s a problem,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s okay,’ he added quickly. ‘I can fix it.’

Evie listened in awe while Finn sat with Bethany and explained how the small benign-looking cyst in her breast was nothing compared to the real problem, and what he could do about it. For such an arrogant, rude, human being he had amazing rapport with patients.

When they walked out of the curtain thirty minutes later Evie had seen an entirely different side to the infamous Dr Finn Kennedy. She’d known he must have had a heart in there somewhere but it was the first time she’d ever seen any evidence of it.

‘Organise a bed for her in CCU,’ Finn said briskly, handing Bethany’s chart to her.

Evie nodded as she accepted it, trying not to feel discouraged. She hadn’t really thought he’d congratulate her, had she?

‘Good catch, Dr Lockheart,’ he murmured. ‘Maybe you’re not Daddy’s little girl after all.’

And then he turned in the opposite direction and strode away.