Fiona McArthur - A Doctor, A Fling & A Wedding Ring

‘The sea is glorious. To think I’ve watched it for days and I’ve only just touched it.’

Nick drifted closer until he could brush her hand. ‘Mmm. I feel the same.’

She opened her eyes lazily and paddled with her hands until she bumped into his chest. ‘Oops. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’ His hands captured her shoulders and pulled her slowly into his chest, so that she was anchored on his lap in the water. ‘I’m a sea god. You have to pay a tax when you bump into me.’

She closed one eye. ‘Well, I’m a mermaid. Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?’

Oh, yes. She was dangerous, all right—much more than a woman who knew the rules—but still he turned her to face him.

‘I laugh at danger,’ he said, and she giggled again.

So he kissed her, which was what he’d wanted to do since she’d met him on the gangplank this morning, and time stood still and her skin felt like silk under the water as she twined her arms around his neck.

When she returned his kiss with such an innocent ardour it tore at his heart and tightened his chest. He couldn’t remember when it had been like this.

Holding Tara was precious, yet terrifying, and some of that fear was a residual warning against becoming too fond of someone.

Dear Reader

Have you ever been on a sea voyage? Or imagined being on one? Had moments when you lean on the rail and gaze out over an ocean that stretches away to the horizon?

I’ve always wanted to write a cruise ship love story, and have been fascinated by the staff who work in those mini-hospitals below decks. There was even a handsome single doc on my cruise, who showed us around, and I’ve been itching to write his story.

So meet my two shipboard doctors: Nick and Tara.

Tara has been working as an aid doctor under primitive conditions in the Sudan and is being forced to have a break. She just doesn’t expect to end up as a doctor on a cruise liner.

Nick Fender loves to party. He was the only man in the house with four fabulous sisters, and he has no wish to settle down. Nick’s on holiday at the moment, but working as a cocktail waiter on the Sea Goddessa , filling in for his youngest sis Kiki, who has pneumonia. It’s a job he once did himself when he took a break from medicine. (Watch out for Kiki’s story coming soon!)

Our voyage sails Nick and Tara around the magnificent Mediterranean, and they discover each other’s strengths as they pass the Greek Isles, the coast of Italy, Croatia and finally Venice. Venice… Ahh… I hope you have fun as we sail away on the fantasy of the Sea Goddessa and the emotional journey of Nick and Tara.

With warmest wishes

Fiona

Mother to five sons, Fiona McArthuris an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance™ gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband, Ian, are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com.

A Doctor,

A Fling &

A Wedding Ring

Fiona McArthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Rosie, my shipmate,

who made it possible.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

TARA MCWILLIAMS walked away from the tent but the whispering sobs of grief from the widower followed her like the relentless harshness of Africa followed her clients. The sound of heartbreak. Losing a young wife and child because by the time they’d walked here it had been too late for Tara to be able to help.

A tiny insect flew into her eye and as she brushed it away she wished she could summon up some tears. Doug’s hand rested gently on her shoulder and she reached up to cover the wrinkled skin, offering comfort. Just to feel life beneath her fingers.

Douglas Curlew squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’re done, Tara. No more.’

Tara pushed the limp hair off her forehead and sighed as Doug’s fingers fell away. ‘I’m fine.’

Doug glanced back over his shoulder towards the tent. ‘You’re not fine, you’re mentally exhausted, physically frail and need to get away from here for at least six months, if not permanently. Two years battling to save lives here is enough. Vander wouldn’t have expected it.’

‘We both know he would have.’ She glanced around at the grimy greyness of the tent city. The harsh sun beat down on them from overhead and she shielded her eyes. ‘And I’m not the one who’s left crying.’

‘Maybe you should be. When was the last time you let yourself go?’

A trickle of sweat rolled between her breasts and skittered down to her belly. Not much cleavage there to stop it any more. She lifted her head wearily. ‘I haven’t cried since he died. No time for useless emotion here, is there?’ Tara thought about that and sighed again.

For the first time she glimpsed the truth in Doug’s words. Her body ached with the lethargy of deep exhaustion. She had no doubt she could sleep where she fell.

She almost couldn’t remember why she stayed here. ‘You know as well as I do, Doug, we’re critically understaffed. Who would do my job if I didn’t? That’s why Vander wanted me to stay.’

Doug shrugged philosophically. ‘Vander died eighteen months ago.’ He was more grounded to reality than Tara. ‘Who did the job before you both came?’ He shrugged. ‘The same person who’ll do your job if you burn out completely. The fact is, you’re different from the vibrant young woman you used to be.’

Her chief patted her shoulder and gestured to the sea of tents in the refugee evacuation camp. ‘You’ve done an incredible job for too long. This place has grown from five thousand to eighty thousand. The emergency birth procedures you’ve taught are saving countless lives that would have been lost. The staff you trained will carry on, but they love you and they’re worried, and they’re entitled to care enough to ask you to rest.’

It was almost too much effort to lift her shoulders in a shrug. ‘Okay. I’ll rest.’

Doug’s dog-with-a-bone worrying became even more tenacious. ‘Have a decent holiday at least. A total change of scene.’

‘And do what?’ Tara threw out her hands. ‘I’ve seen so many tragedies here I don’t think I could stop and just sit. Images of all those brave women who’ve died would revolve in my head like a horror film.’

‘That’s exactly what I mean.’ He lowered his thick white Scottish brows and his brogue softened and shifted like the sand beneath their feet. ‘Time to go, Tara. Find a little light relief. I’ve seen staff crash and burn and you’re close. I don’t want that for you.’

And do what? she thought again. Her parents were gone. No significant other. That was a laugh. ‘I can’t just sit. Do nothing. My house is rented, I don’t have a job, there’s nothing in Australia for me.’ Sure, she was different from the wanting-to-do-good and eager-to-learn young woman of two years ago. You couldn’t stay enthusiastic and fresh when you saw birthing women stoically accept they would die because they lived in the wrong part of the world.

‘You don’t have to go all the way home.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Been thinking about that. I’ve a friend who captains a cruise liner due to sail in three days from Rome. Twelve days at a time and their junior doctor broke his leg. He’s willing to rush the paperwork.’