Their Most Forbidden Fling

Offers of help from neighbours, including Lucas’s parents, Bill and Jane Banning, had been rejected. Molly’s father had been too proud to accept help, especially from the parents of the boy who had been responsible for the death of their only son. Drummond Downs had been sold to a foreign investor, and her parents had divorced within a year of leaving the homestead.

Molly sighed as she pressed the stop button, her hand falling back to her side. The sound of a footfall behind her made her turn around, and her heart gave a jerky little movement behind her ribcage as she met Lucas’s hazel gaze. ‘I was just …’ she lifted a hand and then dropped it ‘… looking at your photos …’

He closed the door with a soft click but he didn’t move towards the desk. It was hard to read his expression, but it seemed to Molly as if he was controlling every nuance of his features behind that blank, impersonal mask. ‘Neil emails me photos from time to time,’ he said.

‘They’re very good,’ Molly said. ‘Very professional.’

Something moved like a fleeting shadow through his eyes. ‘He toyed with the idea of being a professional photographer,’ he said. ‘But as you know … things didn’t work out.’

Molly chewed at the inside of her mouth as she thought about Neil working back at Bannington Homestead when he might have travelled the world, doing what he loved best. So many people had been damaged by the death of her brother. The stone of grief thrown into the pond of life had cast wide circles in the community of Carboola Creek. When Lucas had left Bannington to study medicine, his younger brother Neil had taken over his role on the property alongside their father. Any hopes or aspirations of a different life Neil might have envisaged for himself had had to be put aside. The oldest son and heir had not stepped up to the plate as expected. Various factions of the small-minded community had made it impossible for Lucas to stay and work the land as his father and grandfather had done before him.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Molly said, not even realising how firmly she believed it until she had spoken it out loud. She had never blamed him but she had grown up surrounded by people who did. But her training as a doctor had made her realise that sometimes accidents just happened. No one was to blame. If Matt had been driving, as he had only minutes before they’d hit that kangaroo that had jumped out in front of them on the road, it would have been him that had been exiled.

Lucas hooked a brow upwards as he pushed away from the door. ‘Wasn’t it?’

Molly turned as he strode past her to go behind his desk. She caught a faint whiff of his aftershave, an intricately layered mix of citrus and spice and something else she couldn’t name—perhaps his own male scent. His broad shoulders were so tense she could see the bunching of his muscles beneath his shirt. ‘It was an accident, Lucas,’ she said. ‘You know it was. That’s what the coroner’s verdict was. Anyway, Matt could easily have been driving instead of you. Would you have wanted him to be blamed for the rest of his life?’

His eyes met hers, his formal back-to-business look locking her out of the world of his pain. ‘What did you want to speak to me about?’ he asked.

Molly’s shoulders went down on an exhaled breath. ‘I sort of let slip to Jacqui Hunter that we knew each other from … back home …’

A muscle in his cheek moved in and out. ‘I see.’

‘I didn’t say anything about the accident,’ she said. ‘I just said we grew up in the same country town.’

His expression was hard as stone, his eyes even harder. ‘Why did you come here?’ he asked. ‘Why this hospital?’

Molly wasn’t sure she could really answer that, even to herself. Why had she felt drawn to where he had worked for all these years? Why had she ignored the other longer-term job offers to come to St Patrick’s and work alongside him for just three months? It had just seemed the right thing to do. Even her mother had agreed when Molly had told her. Her mother had said it was time they all moved on and put the past—and Matthew—finally to rest. ‘I wanted to work overseas but most of the other posts were for a year or longer,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay away from home quite that long. St Patrick’s seemed like a good place to start. It’s got a great reputation.’

He barricaded himself behind his desk, his hands on his lean hips in a keep-back-from-me posture. ‘I’ve spent the last decade trying to put what happened behind me,’ he said. ‘This is my life now. I don’t want to destroy what little peace I’ve been able to scratch together.’

‘I’m not here to ruin your peace or your life or career or whatever,’ Molly said. ‘I just wanted some space from my family. Things have been difficult between my parents, especially since Crystal got pregnant. I’m tired of being the meat in the sandwich. I wanted some time out.’

‘So you came right to the lion’s den,’ he said with an embittered look. ‘Aren’t your parents worried I might destroy your life too?’

Molly pressed her lips together for a moment. Her father had said those very words in each and every one of their heated exchanges when she’d broached the subject of coming to London. ‘Do you want me to resign?’ she asked.

His forehead wrinkled in a heavy frown and one of his hands reached up and scored a rough pathway through his hair before dropping back down by his side. ‘No,’ he said, sighing heavily. ‘We’re already short-staffed. It might take weeks to find a replacement.’

‘I can work different shifts from you if—’

He gave her a dark look. ‘That won’t be necessary,’ he said. ‘People will start to ask questions if we make an issue out of it.’

‘I’m not here to make trouble for you, Lucas.’

He held her gaze for an infinitesimal moment, but the screen had come back up on his face. ‘I’ll see you on the ward,’ he said, and pulled out his chair and sat down. ‘I have to call a patient’s family.’

Molly walked to the door, but as she pulled it closed on her exit she saw that he was frowning heavily as he reached for the phone …

CHAPTER TWO

LUCAS WAS GOING through some blood results with Kate Harrison, one of the nurses, when Molly came into the ICU office the following day. Her perfume drifted towards him, wrapping around his senses, reminding him of summer, sweet peas and innocence. How she managed to look so gorgeous this early in the morning in ballet flats and plain black leggings and a long grey cardigan over a white top amazed him. She wasn’t wearing any make-up to speak of and her shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail, giving her a fresh-faced, youthful look that was totally captivating.

‘Good morning,’ she said, her tentative smile encompassing Kate as well as him.

‘Morning,’ he said, turning back to the blood results. ‘Kate, I want you to keep an eye on Mr Taylor’s white-cell count and CRP. Let me know if there’s any change.’

‘I’ll ring you with the results when they come in,’ Kate said. She turned to Molly. ‘Hi, I’m Kate Harrison. I heard on the grapevine you’re from Dr Banning’s neck of the woods.’

Molly’s gaze flicked uncertainly to Lucas’s. ‘Um … yes …’

‘I looked it up on an internet map,’ Kate said. ‘It’s a pretty small country town. Were you neighbours or something?’

‘Sort of,’ Molly said. ‘Lucas’s family ran the property next door but it was ten kilometres away.’

‘I wish my neighbours were ten kilometres away,’ Kate said with a grin, ‘especially when they play their loud music and party all night. Nice to have you with us, Dr Drummond.’

‘Please call me Molly.’

‘We have a social club you might be interested in joining,’ Kate said. ‘A group of us hang out after hours. It’s a good way to meet people from other departments. Nobody admits it out loud but it’s sort of turned into a hospital dating service. We’ve had two marriages, one engagement and one and a half babies so far.’

‘Dr Drummond already has a boyfriend,’ Lucas said as he opened the file drawer.

‘Actually, I would be interested,’ Molly said, sending him a hard little look. ‘Apart from Simon, I don’t have any friends over here.’

‘Great,’ Kate said. ‘I’ll send you an invite by email. We’re meeting for a movie next week.’

Lucas waited until Kate had left before he spoke. ‘I’d be careful hanging out with Kate’s social group. Not all the men who go have the right motives.’

She gave him a haughty look. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘From what I’ve heard so far about your plastics guy, he doesn’t seem your type.’

Her brows came up. ‘And you’re some sort of authority on who my type is, are you?’

He gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. ‘Just an observation.’

‘Then I suggest you keep your observations to yourself,’ she said, her eyes flashing like sheet lightning. ‘I’m perfectly capable of managing my own private life. At least I have one.’

‘Just because I keep my private life out of the hospital corridors doesn’t mean I don’t have one,’ Lucas clipped back.

Jacqui came into the office behind them. ‘Whoa, is this pistols at three paces or what?’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ they said in unison.

Jacqui’s brows lifted speculatively. ‘I thought you guys were old friends from back home?’

‘Excuse me,’ Molly said, and brushed past to leave.

‘What’s going on between you two?’ Jacqui asked Lucas.

‘Nothing,’ he said with a glower.

‘Could’ve fooled me,’ Jacqui said. ‘I saw the way she was glaring at you. It’s not like you to be the big bad boss. What did you say to upset her?’

‘Nothing.’

Jacqui folded her arms and gave him a look. ‘That’s two nothings from you, which in my book means there’s something. I might be speaking out of turn, but you don’t seem too happy to have her here.’

The last thing Lucas wanted was anyone digging into his past connection with Molly. It was a part of his life he wanted to keep separate. The turmoil of emotions he felt over Matt’s death was something he dealt with in the privacy of his home. He didn’t want it at work, where he needed a clear head. He didn’t like his ghosts or his guilt hanging around.

‘Dr Drummond is well qualified and will no doubt be a valuable asset to the team at St Patrick’s,’ he said. ‘All new staff members take time to settle in. It’s a big change moving from one hospital to another, let alone across the globe.’

‘She’s very beautiful in a girl-next-door sort of way, isn’t she?’

He gave a noncommittal shrug as he leafed through a patient’s notes. ‘She’s OK, I guess.’

Jacqui’s mouth tilted in a knowing smile. ‘She’s the sort of girl most mothers wish their sons would bring home, don’t you think?’

Lucas put the file back in the drawer and then pushed it shut. ‘Not my mother,’ he said, and walked out.

Lucas was walking home from the hospital a couple of days later when he saw Molly coming up the street, carrying a cardboard box with holes punched in it. He had managed to avoid her over the last day or two, other than during ward rounds where he had kept things tightly professional. But as she came closer he could see she looked flustered and upset.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as she stopped right in front of him.

Her grey-blue eyes were shiny and moist with tears. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said. ‘My landlord has flatly refused to allow me to have Mittens in my flat. He’s threatening to have me evicted if I don’t get rid of him immediately.’

‘Mittens?’

She indicated the box she was carrying. ‘Mittens the cat,’ she said, ‘the one that got hit by a car on my first day? I had to take him otherwise the vet would’ve sent him to the cat shelter and he might’ve been put down if no one wanted him.’

‘Didn’t the owner come and claim him?’ Lucas asked.

‘It turns out he doesn’t have an owner, or none we can track down,’ she said. ‘He hasn’t got a collar or a microchip. He’s only about seven months old.’

He angled his head, his gaze narrowing slightly. ‘What were you planning to do with him?’

Her expression became beseeching. ‘One of the nurses mentioned you lived in a big house all by yourself. She said you had a garden that would be perfect for a cat. She said you’d—’

Lucas held up his hands like stop signs. ‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘No way. I’m not having some flea-bitten cat sharpening its claws on my rugs or furniture.’

‘It’s only for a few days,’ she said, appealing to him with those big wide eyes of hers. ‘I’ll find another flat, one that will allow me to have a cat. Please?’

Lucas could feel his resolve slipping. How was he supposed to resist her when she was so darned cute standing there like a little lost waif? ‘I hate cats,’ he said. ‘They make me sneeze.’

‘But this one is a non-allergenic cat,’ she said. ‘He was probably hideously expensive and now we have him for free. Well … not free exactly …’ She momentarily tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. ‘The vet’s bill was astronomical.’

‘I do not want a cat,’ he said through tight lips.

‘You’re not getting a cat,’ she said. ‘You’re babysitting one.’

Lucas rolled his eyes and took the box from her. His fingers brushed against hers and a lightning strike of electricity shot through his body. Her eyes flared as if she had felt it too, and two little spots of colour pooled high in her cheeks. She stood back from him and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear, her gaze slipping from his. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said.

‘My place is just along here,’ he said gruffly, and led the way.

Molly stepped into the huge foyer of the four-storey mansion Lucas owned. The house was tastefully decorated with an eclectic mix of modern, art deco and antique pieces. Room after room led off the foyer and a grand staircase to the floors above. There was even a ballroom, which overlooked the garden, and a conservatory. It was such a big house for one person. It would have housed three generations of a family with room to spare. ‘You don’t find it a little cramped?’ she asked dryly as she turned and faced him.

The corner of his mouth twitched, which was about the closest he ever got to a smile. ‘I like my space,’ he said as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the brass coat rack. ‘I guess it comes from growing up in the outback.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Molly said with feeling. ‘I’m starting to feel quite claustrophobic at that bedsit and I’ve barely been there a week. I don’t know why Simon suggested it.’

‘Does he live there with you?’ he asked.

‘No, he’s renting a place in Bloomsbury,’ she said. ‘He offered me a room but I wanted to keep my independence.’

‘Are you sleeping with him?’

Molly frowned to cover her embarrassment. She had only slept with Simon once and she had instantly regretted it. She couldn’t help feeling he had only slept with her as a sort of payback to his ex Serena because he’d been so hurt by her leaving him. Molly had mistaken his friendliness as attraction, but now she wasn’t sure how to get out of the relationship without causing him further hurt. ‘I can’t see how that is any of your business,’ she said.

His eyes remained steady on hers, quietly assessing. ‘You don’t seem the casual sleep around type.’

She felt her cheeks heat up a little more. ‘I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re suggesting. And there’s nothing wrong with casual sex as long as it’s safe.’

His gaze slowly tracked down to her mouth.

Something shifted in the air—an invisible current that connected her to him in a way Molly had never felt quite before. She felt her lips start to tingle as if he had bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers. She could almost feel the warm, firm dryness of his lips against her own. Her mind ran wild with the thought of his tongue slipping through the shield of her lips to find hers and call it into erotic play. Her insides flickered with hot little tongues of lust, sending arrows of awareness to the very heart of her. She ran the tip of her tongue out over the surface of her lips and watched as his hooded gaze followed its journey.

The mewling cry of Mittens from inside the box broke the spell.

Lucas frowned as if he had completely forgotten what he was carrying. ‘Er … aren’t we supposed to rub butter on its paws or something?’ he asked.

‘I think that’s just an old wives’ tale,’ Molly said. ‘I’m sure if we show him around first he’ll soon work out his territory. I don’t suppose you happen to have a pet door?’

He gave her a speaking look. ‘No.’

‘Oh, well, he’ll soon let you know when he wants to go in or out. Maybe you could leave a window open.’

‘No.’

Molly pursed her lips in thought. ‘How about a kitty litter box? Then you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting locked inside while you’re at work.’

‘Read my lips,’ he said, eyeballing her over the top of the box. ‘I am not keeping this cat. This is an interim thing until you find a pet-friendly place to stay.’

‘Fine.’ She opened the folded over lid of the box. Mittens immediately popped his head up and mewed at her. ‘Isn’t he cute?’

‘Adorable.’

Molly glanced up at him but he wasn’t looking at the cat. ‘Um … I brought some food with me,’ she said, and rummaged in her handbag for the sample packs the vet had given her.

Mittens wound himself around Lucas’s ankles, purring like an engine as his little cast bumped along the floor.

‘I think he likes you,’ Molly said.

Lucas glowered at her. ‘If he puts one paw out of place, it will be off to the cat shelter.’

She scooped the cat up into her arms, stroking his soft, velvety little head as she looked up into Lucas’s stern features. ‘I’ll just feed him and give him his medication and get out of your hair,’ she said.

‘The kitchen is this way,’ he said, and led the way.

Molly stood back to watch as Mittens tucked into the saucer of food she had placed on the floor. ‘He’s been wormed and vaccinated,’ she said.

‘Desexed?’

‘That too,’ she said. ‘He might still be a bit tender down there.’

‘My heart bleeds.’

Molly picked up her handbag and slung it across her shoulder. ‘He’ll need to use the bathroom once he’s finished eating. Do you know you can actually train a cat to use a human toilet? I saw it on the internet.’

He didn’t look in the least impressed. ‘How fascinating.’

‘Right, well, then,’ she said, and made a move for the door. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘What are you doing for dinner?’ Lucas suddenly asked.

Molly blinked. ‘Pardon?’

His mouth twisted self-deprecatingly. ‘Am I that out of practice?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I haven’t asked anyone to stay to dinner in a while,’ he said. ‘I like to keep myself to myself once I get home. But since you’re here you might as well stay and share a meal with me. That is if you’ve got nothing better to do.’

‘You’re not worried what people will think about us socialising out of hours?’ she asked.

‘Who’s going to know?’ he said. ‘My private life is private.’

Molly felt tempted to stay, more than tempted. She told herself it was to make sure Mittens was settled in, but if she was honest, it had far more to do with her craving a little more of Lucas’s company. It wasn’t just that he was from back home either. She felt drawn to his aloofness; his don’t-come-too-close-I-might-bite aura was strangely attractive. His accidental touch earlier had awoken her senses. She could still feel the tingling of her skin where his fingers had brushed against hers.

‘I haven’t got anything planned,’ she said. ‘Simon’s going to the theatre with his friend. There wasn’t a spare ticket.’ She saw his brows lift cynically and hastily added, ‘I didn’t want to see it anyway.’

Lucas moved across the room to open the French doors that led out to the garden. He turned on the outside light, which cast a glow over the neatly clipped hedges that made up the formal part of the garden. A fountain trickled in the middle of a pebbled area and a wrought-iron French provincial setting was against one wall where a row of espaliered ornamental trees was growing. Mittens bumped his way over and went out to explore his new domain. He stopped to play with a moth that had fluttered around the light Lucas had switched on.

‘It’s a lovely garden,’ Molly said. ‘Was it like that when you bought it?’

‘It had been a bit neglected,’ he said. ‘I’ve done a bit of work on the house too.’

‘You always were good with your hands,’ she said, and then blushed. ‘I mean, with doing things about the farm.’

His lips gave a vague sort of movement that could not on anyone’s terms be described as a smile. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ he asked.

‘Sure, why not?’ Molly said. Anything to make her relax and stop making a fool of herself, she thought.

He placed a glass of white wine in front of her. ‘I have red if you prefer.’

‘No, white is fine,’ she said. ‘Red always gives me a headache.’

Lucas went about preparing the meal. Molly watched as he deftly chopped vegetables and meat for the stir-fry he was making. He worked as if on autopilot but she could see he was frowning slightly. Was he regretting asking her to stay for dinner? He wasn’t exactly full of conversation. But, then, she was feeling a little tongue-tied herself.

‘So why an intensivist?’ he asked after a long silence. ‘I thought you always wanted to be a teacher.’

‘My teacher stage only lasted until I was ten,’ Molly said. ‘I’ve wanted to be lots of things since then. I decided on medicine in my final year at school. And I chose intensive care because I liked the idea of helping to save lives.’

‘Yeah, well, it sure beats the hell out of destroying them.’

Molly met his gaze over the island bench. ‘How long are you going to keep punishing yourself? It’s not going to bring him back.’

His eyes hardened. ‘You think I don’t know that?’

Molly watched him slice some celery as if it was a mortal enemy. His jaw was pulsing with tension as he worked. She let out an uneven sigh and put her wine down. ‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to stay and have dinner,’ she said as she slid off the stool she had perched on. ‘You don’t seem in the mood for company. I’ll see myself out.’

He caught her at the door. His long, strong fingers met around her wrist, sending sparks of awareness right up to her armpit and beyond. She looked into his eyes and felt her heart slip sideways. Pain was etched in those green and brown depths—pain and something else that made her blood kick-start in her veins like a shot of pure adrenalin. ‘Don’t go,’ he said in a low, gruff tone.

Molly’s gaze drifted to his mouth. She felt her insides shift, a little clench of longing that was slowly but surely moving through her body.

His body was closer than it had ever been. She felt the warmth of it, the bone-melting temptation of it. She sensed the stirring of his response to her. She couldn’t feel it but she could see it in his eyes as they held hers. It sent an arrow of lust through her. She wanted to feel him against her, to feel his blood surging in response to her closeness. She took a half a step to close the gap between their bodies but he dropped her wrist as if it had suddenly caught fire.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, raking that same hand through his thick hair, leaving crooked finger-width pathways in its wake.

‘It’s fine,’ Molly said, aiming for light and airy but falling miserably short. ‘No harm done.’

‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Molly,’ he said, frowning heavily. ‘Any … connection between us is inadvisable.’

‘Because you don’t mix work with play?’

His eyes were hard and intractable as they clashed with hers. ‘Because I don’t mix emotion with sex.’

‘Who said anything about sex?’ Molly asked.

His worldly look said it all.

‘Right, well … I’m not very good at this, as you can probably tell,’ she said, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. ‘I try to be sophisticated and modern about it all but I guess deep down inside I’m just an old-fashioned girl who wants the fairy-tale.’