The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For

‘The cabin you’ll be using is brand-new,’ she continued. ‘But they’ve been careful to use the same kind of materials.’ She smiled at Alex, a concession that their relationship might be on a better footing now, thanks to his communication. ‘The mosquito netting will probably work a lot better, as well.’

‘I hadn’t thought about mosquitoes.’ Alex sounded irritated. Did he really expect to keep on top of what was happening so far away in Sydney and still be aware of every potential issue in this environment? ‘How much of a problem are they?’

‘Generally well controlled,’ Susie responded. ‘And you’ll find eco-friendly insect repellent in the cabin.’

‘What about mosquito-borne disease? Like Dengue fever and Ross River virus?’

‘There hasn’t been a case of anything nasty for years.’

‘Complacency is never a good safety net.’ Alex increased the length of his stride. ‘Another good reason to make sure Stella keeps herself well covered.’

He was forging ahead of her now so he couldn’t see the way Susie shook her head. Or hear her resigned sigh.

Much to Alex’s relief, Stella was in the cabin Susie led him to.

He could hear the sound of her voice as they stepped up onto the veranda, part of his brain registering the fact that this was going to be a much nicer place to stay than a penthouse hotel suite. The netting overhead and around the sides of the veranda was so fine it was virtually invisible, and the surrounding trees were so close that sitting out here would be like sitting in the middle of the forest.

The larger part of his brain, however, was hearing the sound of his daughter’s laughter and feeling the tension of his arrival and everything he’d left behind in Sydney fading.

When had he last heard her laugh like that? So long ago, it had probably been before her cancer had been diagnosed, and that was just over two years now. Was this part of what had been happening on this camp? If so, the donation he’d made to kick-start the rebuilding process had just paid for itself tenfold. And the staff needed to know how appreciative he was.

Alex turned his head, intending to catch Susie’s gaze and say something to that effect, but she was moving ahead to enter the main room of the cabin through the open ranch sliders that led to the veranda. She had a huge smile on her face.

‘Mike! Em! What are you guys doing here?’

‘We were looking for you,’ a feminine voice responded.

Alex stepped into a spacious, open-plan living area to see Susie hugging another blonde woman. His gaze flicked past the man beside them, who was grinning cheerfully to where Stella was sitting on a cane couch. Her smile was fading rapidly as she watched her father’s entrance and she looked disturbingly—and inexplicably—nervous. Then her gaze shifted and Alex understood.

He glared at the boy standing at the other end of Stella’s couch. Trying to look nonchalant, with a towel slung casually over one shoulder that did nothing to cover his bare chest or disguise the way his damp board shorts clung to his hips.

‘G’day,’ the boy said. ‘You must be Star’s dad.’

‘What? Who?’

Susie broke away from the hug. ‘This is Alex,’ she said to the group in general. ‘Stella’s father. Alex, this is Mike and Emily, whom you’ve heard about already.’

‘Hiya!’ Mike extended his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Alex.’

Emily had a sweet smile and was nodding agreement. Susie was beaming at the boy.

‘Hey, Jamie! Did you have a good swim?’

‘It was awesome.’

Alex pulled his hand free of Mike’s grip and stopped smiling at Emily. He frowned at the boy again. ‘What was it you called my daughter?’

Jamie went red. He started to say something but his voice cracked and he went crimson. Stella glared at her father but Mike was still grinning.

‘Star,’ he supplied. ‘It’s what Stella means in Greek.’

‘Yes,’ Alex said dryly. ‘I was aware of that.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Stella said. ‘You never told me.’

‘Mike’s Greek, too,’ Susie said hurriedly, clearly trying to avert another father-daughter confrontation. Did she really think that he and Stella did nothing but fight?

‘Mike Poulos,’ Mike added helpfully. ‘My parents run the best Greek restaurant you’ll find in North Australia. The Athina. Just over the way in Crocodile Creek.’

‘Spitting distance,’ Emily said. She exchanged a glance with Mike and they both gave the kind of smile that indicated a private joke.

One that excluded Alex. The ceiling fan didn’t seem to be doing much in the way of air-conditioning. He put down his briefcase, dropped his jacket over the back of a cane chair that matched the couch, rolled up his shirtsleeves and gave up any pretence of feeling social.

He wanted a shower. A chance to change his clothes and spend some time with his daughter. Instead, his accommodation was crowded by strangers who seemed to find Greek superstitions a joke, his daughter was still wearing that scanty clothing, and she was currently being ogled by a prime example of testosterone on legs. It was infuriating.

Worse, having caught Susie’s glance, it appeared that she knew exactly how he was feeling and—in her opinion—his discomfort was well deserved.

Then he saw the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. It may only have been the second time he’d seen her do that, but he knew a decision of some kind had just been made.

‘Hey,’ Susie said to her friends. ‘You did know you’re not staying here anymore, didn’t you?’

Emily nodded. ‘That’s why we came to find you, to make sure you’d had a chance to talk to Charles.’

‘Your dad’s having the cabin,’ Susie explained to Stella. ‘We’re moving to the hotel. There’s two bedrooms here so you can stay, too.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘It’s really close to the dormitory and I’ll bet the bed’s a lot more comfortable.’

Stella looked mutinous and Jamie edged towards the door. ‘I’d better go,’ he said. ‘See you at the disco, Stel—’ He grinned. ‘I mean, Star.’

Alex groaned inwardly. The new nickname made his daughter sound like something from a Hollywood gossip column, but it wasn’t worth a battle. Not when Stella was staring at him, clearly expecting one.

‘Am I allowed to go to the disco, Dad?’

It was a challenge. It was also an easy way to defuse any tension between them. It wasn’t the disco that Alex had a problem with, was it?

‘Of course,’ he said.

Stella looked surprised. Pleased but wary. ‘And I can wear my new clothes?’

‘But I’ll have to find another top!’ Emily groaned in mock despair. ‘We can’t be there looking like twins.’

‘Why not?’ Susie was also staring at Alex and her gaze was just as challenging as Stella’s had been. ‘It’s a gorgeous top.’

‘I reckon.’ Mike nodded. ‘What do you think, Jamie?’

But Jamie just grinned again and disappeared with a wave.

Alex was now the focus of everybody’s attention. They were confidently expecting his agreement—even Susie and Stella, who had to know how it would be contradicting his principles. He sighed.

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to think about it.’

It was too hot to be making decisions that could have unpleasant personal ramifications. He needed a shower. And another beer. And some peace.

‘I’ll get my stuff,’ Susie said into the silence. ‘Why don’t we head over to the resort and give these guys some time to themselves?’

‘Thanks.’ Alex tilted his head towards his briefcase. ‘I’ve got a speech to get written before the opening ceremony tomorrow.’

‘Maybe you could get it done while Stella’s at the disco tonight.’

She wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to tell him how to handle his daughter, was she? Did she really expect him to stay in the cabin and let Stella wander around in her underwear? Dancing with boys?

Except that she couldn’t dance, could she?

Alex moved to go and sit down beside his daughter, the sudden tightness in his throat making it difficult to smile.

He barely noticed the others leaving the cabin.

The camp disco was aimed at the older children and wasn’t due to start until 8:00 p.m. when it would be dark enough for the light show to be appreciated on the beach. One of the rangers, Ben, was an amateur disk jockey. He had his own sound and light system and, like many of the staff on the island, was only too happy to use his skills to provide something the kids would enjoy.

There were plenty of adults who were also looking forward to a spot of dancing, including Susie, Emily and Mike, but their bicycle ride back to the north end of Wallaby Island that evening was interrupted by first Mike’s and then Susie’s mobile phones ringing.

Mike finished his call first and was talking to Emily as Susie flipped her phone shut. Emily was frowning.

‘Charles wants you to fly back to Crocodile Creek? At this time of night? Just to pick up Jill?’

‘There’s no other way she can get here before tomorrow morning. Lily’s sick.’

‘How sick?’ Emily asked with concern.

‘I heard Charles say it was just a cold this afternoon,’ Susie put in. ‘It can’t be too serious.’

‘Doesn’t sound as if Charles thinks it’s too serious,’ Mike agreed, ‘but apparently he couldn’t persuade Jill about that. I think he thinks Jill’s overreacting, but it sounds as though Beth’s on his case now—telling him that any kid who’s feeling miserable needs her mother.’

‘Oh…’ Emily nodded. ‘He’s got a point. And we do owe Charles.’

‘Do we?’

‘Of course we do.’ Emily gave her husband a shove. ‘It was thanks to him that we sorted ourselves out, if you remember. Come to think of it, that involved a helicopter ride, as well. To Wallaby Island, no less.’ She grinned. ‘Just think of yourself as Charles Wetherby’s personal pilot. I can dance without you.’ The grin got turned in Susie’s direction. ‘I’ve got my best friend to dance with.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Susie said apologetically. ‘Not for a while, anyway. My call was from Miranda Carlisle. You met her the other night, didn’t you? She’s a respiratory physician and the coordinator of the camp kids. She’s worried about one of the boys with cystic fibrosis who’s picked up this bug that’s going around. I’ll have to drop into the medical centre and see if he needs help with some extra physio to clear his chest. I’ll try and get there before the dancing finishes.’

‘Me, too,’ Mike promised.

Emily shrugged philosophically. ‘No problem. You guys go and do what you need to do.’

Surprisingly, for this time on a Friday evening, the new medical facilities on Wallaby Island were humming.

There seemed to be people everywhere and the distinctive shape of Charles’s wheelchair was at the centre of a knot blocking a wide hallway Susie needed to use to reach the inpatient rooms.

Even though it was obvious they were trying to have a private discussion, the high-pitched voice of Lauren Allandale’s mother, Kirsty, was also familiar. Lauren was another of the camp children who suffered from cystic fibrosis. The pretty, fragile-looking teenager had been in here only yesterday, having a nasty gash on her chin sutured, but that didn’t seem to be what was upsetting Kirsty at the moment.

‘We’ve got to evacuate her, Dr Wetherby,’ she was saying urgently, still trying to keep her voice down. ‘For God’s sake, she’s on the waiting list for a lung transplant. Any kind of chest infection could be…could be…’ The woman turned, allowing her husband to wrap his arms around her, burying her face in his shoulder to cry silently.

Rick Allandale may not be as overprotective as Lauren’s mother but his determination to look after his family was obvious in the stare he was directing at Charles.

‘She’s not showing any signs of infection,’ Charles said.

Kirsty’s face appeared again. ‘She almost collapsed! Her hands went all numb!’

‘Hyperventilation.’ The calm voice came from Miranda, the respiratory physician standing beside Charles. ‘She’s feeling absolutely fine again now. I suspect it was simply due to the excitement of getting ready for the disco.’

‘She can’t possibly go to that disco,’ Kirsty declared. ‘All those children together when there’s a flu bug going around.’

Judging by the way a nearby door swung open at that point, the subject of the conversation had been eavesdropping. Susie could only hope she hadn’t heard the entire exchange but Lauren certainly looked less than happy.

‘I’m going to the disco,’ she announced. ‘You can’t stop me.’

Lauren was the same age as Stella but so far the only thing the two girls had in common was a crush on Jamie. Rebellion against parental edicts could now be added, Susie thought with a wry smile. Maybe the girls would end up being friends after all.

‘Susie!’ Miranda had spotted her arrival. ‘You helped Lauren with her airway clearance this morning. What did you think of her condition?’

‘No change from yesterday,’ Susie responded. She smiled at Lauren. ‘I think her technique’s improved this week, as well. She’s been trying hard.’

‘DrWetherby?’ A large woman, wearing an impressive selection of gold jewellery, came from behind Susie. ‘Please, could you come and see Eddie again? He’s been sick and he says the pain in his chest is getting worse.’

The wheelchair swivelled. ‘Is Dr Stuart with him?’

‘She did tests. The electric whatever it was.’

‘Electrocardiogram?’

‘Yes. And she took a lot of blood. I think she’s gone somewhere with all the test tubes.’

Charles was moving towards Susie. He paused for just a moment as he left the Allandales. ‘It’s your call,’ he told Miranda. ‘We’ve certainly got the space to keep Lauren in the centre overnight and I’m sure a flight out could be arranged tomorrow if necessary.’

‘No!’ Lauren’s face crumpled. ‘You can’t make me go home. I want to stay here.’

‘It’s too dangerous, darling,’ her mother pleaded. ‘There’s all these bugs!’

‘I don’t care! I’ve never been to a disco. Please, Mummy! What if…?’ Lauren’s eyes widened theatrically. ‘What if it’s the only chance I ever get?’

‘Oh, darling… Don’t say that!’ Kirsty’s arms went round her daughter.

Miranda closed her eyes for a second.

‘Where’s Jack?’ Susie asked her. ‘If I get his therapy done, I can go to the disco myself and keep an eye on Lauren.’

‘Room 4,’ Miranda responded quietly. ‘I’ll join you as soon as we’re sorted here.’ She raised her voice slightly. ‘I’ve got Jack started on a hefty antibiotic regime but his chest isn’t sounding great.’

Rick was frowning. ‘You know, they say the worst place to pick up bugs is in a hospital. Fresh air on the beach might not be such a bad idea.’

‘Is it?’ Kirsty looked fearfully over her shoulder, as though someone was about to pop out of a room and infect them all.

‘I’d better go and see Jack,’ Susie told them. ‘He really is sick.’

That seemed to settle it for the Allandales. ‘Let’s go,’ Kirsty suggested hurriedly. ‘We’ll talk about the disco when we’re outside.’

Jack Havens was twelve and quite independent. He had happily come to camp without any family support and usually managed his own airway clearance techniques by himself, but right now he was feeling rotten.

‘My head hurts,’ he told Susie. ‘And I feel all hot and everything aches.’

‘Sounds like flu, you poor old thing,’ Susie commiserated. ‘Is it feeling harder to breathe?’

Jack nodded miserably. ‘Dr Miranda said I had to stay here tonight. For medicine and oxygen and stuff.’

‘We’ll look after you,’ Susie promised. ‘I’m here to see if I can help you clear your chest a bit. If we get rid of some of the junk in your lungs, it means there’s less places for the bugs to hide and grow. Do you feel up to bit of percussion? I’ll be gentle and it might make you feel a bit better.’

‘OK…’

‘Good boy. I’ll just go and collect some nice big pillows.’

This time the corridor showed a change in activity. The Allandales had disappeared but Beth Stuart was there, showing Charles a sheet of pink paper.

‘No sign of an infarct,’ she was saying. ‘I suspect the chest pain is due to his viral infection.’

‘Sounds as if there are a few people at the resort down with it.’ Charles sounded tired. ‘Couldn’t be happening at a worse time, could it, with the camp going on?’

‘We’ll cope.’ Beth smiled at Susie. ‘How’s Jack?’

‘Not feeling the best. I’m going to see how clear I can get his chest. I’ll try and make it a quick session.’

But it took a lot longer than usual. The boy was tired and each change of position that assisted the drainage of different lobes of the lungs was slow. Susie kept her percussion as gentle as she could, tapping her cupped hands carefully on the small chest and back. Coughing was also painfully slow and not particularly effective.

‘Try huffing,’ Susie told him more than once. ‘Like making a mirror steam up, remember? Sometimes it works better than coughing.’

Miranda came back and the session was interrupted for an examination and medication. Nebulised antibiotics were administered at the end and Susie stayed to help the nurse settle Jack into a comfortable position for sleeping.

By the time Susie had put away the equipment she’d used, it was half past nine. She left the medical centre and hurried into the warm darkness outside. She was far later than she’d intended being, but a dance or two was just what she felt like and Ben wasn’t due to stop the music until 10:00 p.m. She could hear it now, the upbeat strains of something that could lift her spirits even from this distance.

Except that another sound could also be heard. Susie answered her mobile reluctantly.

‘Sorry to disturb you…’ The voice on the other end of the line must have picked up on her reluctance. ‘Charles gave me your number. It’s Alex Vavunis speaking.’

Susie had known that from the first word he’d uttered. Like everything else about Stella’s father, his voice was a new experience. Authoritative. Dark. A distinct hint of a foreign accent. She had to pull in a new breath.

‘No problem. What can I do for you, Alex?’

‘It’s Stella.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘I…I don’t know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘She… ah…won’t talk to me.’

Susie looked down the beach to where she could see bright lights changing colour at regular intervals. ‘Isn’t Stella at the disco?’

‘No. She’s…ah…locked herself in the bathroom.’

They must have had another argument. Probably about what Stella wanted to wear to the disco. But that should have been sorted a couple of hours ago. Just how long had Stella been locked in the bathroom? And why was Alex calling her?

‘Susie?’ The voice was softer now. It had what she could only interpret as a faintly bewildered air. ‘I think I might need your help.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE distance between the beach and the cabin took very little time to cover at the speed Susie moved, but it was quite long enough to think the worst.

Why was Stella locked in the bathroom? Was she injured? Unconscious, even? Had her father been so preoccupied with writing an impressive speech that he hadn’t realised how long she’d been absent?

Or had he climbed back on that paternal soapbox and told his daughter what kind of morals her chosen outfit was advertising? If he had, he was going to get an earful of how clueless Susie considered him to be.

He would also get an eyeful of her own choice of attire. She had picked the soft, clinging, low-cut top deliberately and teamed it with hip-hugging, pale denim jeans that he would probably disapprove of more than a skirt. Not that she had expected to come across Alex at the disco. This had been more of a statement of support for Stella.

It was tempting to put her hands on the band of those jeans that marked her hips and tap her foot impatiently as she waited for Alex to open the ranch slider for her. He looked so calm, dammit! Crossing the room with the same kind of casual grace she had noted when he’d walked down the jetty that afternoon. As though he was in complete control of any space he entered.

His smile and greeting were as courteous as if nothing untoward was happening.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said.

Accusations of provocation or neglect tumbled around Susie’s brain, vying for utterance, but as she stepped inside and looked up, the words died on her lips.

That aura of control was an illusion. He may still be wearing his white shirt but the careful rolling-up of the sleeves was coming unravelled and the cuffs were hanging loose. Another couple of buttons at the neck were undone and his feet were bare. Eyes that she remembered as being dark were positively black right now. Bottomless pits she could fall into if she wasn’t careful. Muscles in his jaw were bunched tightly enough to make day-old stubble very obvious, and how many times had Alex pushed stiff fingers through his hair to make it stand up in spikes like that?

She was looking at a parent who was worried sick. At the end of his tether.

Helpless, even.

It was the last impression she had expected and Susie could actually feel her early judgement of this surgeon split wide-open. She could move through the channel created and establish a connection if she wanted, and she had to make a conscious effort not to reach out and touch him.

Alex would hate that. This was not someone who was used to asking for assistance and instinctively Susie knew that stepping even a fraction over a professional line would be deemed patronising. Making that telephone call to ask for help had probably made him feel disturbingly vulnerable. It had also given Susie the power to either antagonise him irreparably or get a lot closer.

A choice that was made instantly. With her heart, not her head.

‘What’s happened?’ she asked gently. ‘How can I help?’

‘She went into the bathroom, oh…’ Alex flicked his wrist to glance at his watch. ‘Two hours ago. I thought she was doing something with all that make-up you saw fit to provide.’

Susie opened her mouth but then snapped it shut and merely raised her eyebrows encouragingly.

‘When she didn’t come out after half an hour, I knocked on the door and asked if she was all right.’

‘And?’ Susie didn’t like the cold trickle that ran down her spine. ‘Is she?’

‘She told me to…’ Alex’s face twisted into an expression of extreme distaste and then he demonstrated exactly how he’d managed to spike his hair so effectively. ‘Let’s just say she let me know my presence in the near vicinity was less than desirable.’

Susie dragged her gaze away from the way some of the soft black spikes were settling. But she couldn’t help the way the corner of her mouth twitched. She could be quite confident that Alex wouldn’t be used to being sworn at. Then the embryonic smile faded. Had he got angry and shouted back? Hammered on the door and terrified Stella? Anyone that could exude the kind of power Alex did would be terrifying when really angry. It took rather a lot of courage to even ask her next question.

‘Is the door locked?’

‘You think I didn’t try it?’ The tone was scathing. Susie’s heart tripped but then her hackles rose. There was no reason for this man to have any power over her and any emotional involvement she was feeling came from the notion that he needed her. Maybe he wasn’t so helpless after all.

Then Alex shook his head wearily and his expression squashed any doubts. ‘Sorry, but I’ve tried everything. The window’s closed and too opaque to see through. The door bolts from the inside so it’s no use sending for a skeleton key. Short of breaking the damn thing down—and, yes, I did consider that—the only thing I’ve been able to do is try talking to her.’