The War Hero's Locked-Away Heart

‘Hi, Adam. Thought there was a look of expertise to this job. What a welcome, eh?’

‘Lucky I was here. Just one of those things.’

‘There I was thinking I was dealing with an average Joe and all the time you’re a medic in disguise.’ Sky blinked up at him. ‘Are you going to live here, or closer to the base in town? Have you got a family here too?’

He turned his surprise at her inquisition into a cough. He’d forgotten how small-towners liked to chat. In retrospect maybe moving to Auckland would have been a better choice. He could have lost himself in the anonymity of crowds. ‘I’m renting up the road.’

‘We’re very pleased to have you.’ Dan, the AO, shook his hand. ‘Kick back a bit and get out of the rat race? Atanga Bay’s usually pretty quiet, but the towns round about keep us busy. Now they’ve extended that motorway we get our fair share of MVAs.’

Adam helped Dan close the van doors. ‘Judging by the hairpin bends, I’m not surprised.’

‘You’re ex-army, is that right? No wonder you made mincemeat out of those waves. Quite the hero.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Hero? No chance. Adam swallowed back his usual dismissive retort and the memories of his last day in action. He forced himself to be friendly. It had been so long he’d almost forgotten how. ‘Before I joined up I was a surf lifeguard. I just follow my instincts.’ He caught Sky’s glance and remembered the importance of a positive debrief. ‘And Sky was great too.’

‘Our Skye is great. And we’re all going to miss her.’ The AO winked at the shivering woman and wrapped an arm round her shoulders. ‘How long to go now?’

She peered up at him, her fists all screwed up like a kid’s at Christmas. Her lips were slightly parted, her mouth soft. A wave of something unfamiliar washed over Adam. He ignored it. Put it down to adrenalin.

‘Four weeks, three hours and …’ She glanced at her watch, and laughed. A light, unencumbered sound, something he hadn’t heard much, or done himself, in a very long time. ‘Thirty-two minutes. Not that I’m counting. Much.’

‘And then?’ Adam asked, despite his misgivings at having a conversation with her.

‘Then I live my life. This is just a rehearsal.’ More smiles. This time they were backlit with blatant excitement. ‘I’m going on a tour, travelling through Asia to Europe. To see the sights, the food, the people. Then I’m going to hit London. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I can’t wait. I’m so excited.’

‘So I see.’ A shot of relief mixed with a sense of something ending before it had begun mixed in his gut. ‘But is Europe ready for all that enthusiasm?’

Her eyes darted across to him in question, for the first time since he’d met her, she frowned. He ducked his gaze away.

See? Exactly why he shouldn’t attempt a normal conversation with her. He was so out of practice he’d made her excitement fizzle. Better to just keep quiet and wait until he could get the heck away.

Dan squeezed Skye in under his shoulder, like a kid sister or a pet. ‘We’ve been trying to convince her to stay, but she’s adamant she wants out of here. God knows why. Atanga Bay has everything you could ever want. A decent chippy. A fine pub. Old friends. She’s mad. What has Paris got that we haven’t?’

‘Style. History. French accents.’ She shrugged her shoulder in a Gallic gesture. ‘Pain au chocolat.’

‘Pah! Pollution. Too many people. And no ocean.’ Dan eased away from Skye, climbed into the van and gunned the engine. ‘Well, Adam, good to have you on board. It’ll be a pleasure having you around.’

A pleasure? Skye didn’t think so. Adam was rude and disturbing. And that ruggedness just deepened and deepened. But, with little regard for his own life, he’d saved Lukas so for that she should be grateful. ‘Thanks for everything you did out there. By the way, we’ll probably bump into each other over the next few weeks until I’m gone. I’m the practice nurse at the surgery here. Skye Williams. That’s Skye with an “e”. I’m named after an island, in Scotland.’

‘With an “e”.’ He huffed out a breath and scuffed his bare toes into the cold sand. ‘That makes a world of difference.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘I should thank you for your help with Lukas.’

Don’t force yourself.

‘No worries. Civil duty and all that.’ She doubted he knew what civil was.

Just to show him she could rise above his rudeness she put her hand into his and shook it, trying to ignore the shot of electricity that tickled up her arm at his touch. Her eyes found his and there was a sudden connection there, a fleeting warmth she hadn’t seen before. A shy heat that rebounded and hit her cheeks.

She realised that the rest of her was shivering. She looked down at her sand-covered legs and the goose-bumps along her arms. And felt the heat of his eyes over her body as he followed her gaze. It had been a long time since she’d felt that kind of warmth, uncurling something in her gut, spreading through her abdomen.

Then when she locked eyes with him again the guarded shadows had returned.

She was used to her brothers, who wore their pubescent hearts on their sleeves, whose every emotion she could read like it was her own. She’d learnt pretty quickly to understand exactly what her stepdad had thought too, even before he’d thought it himself, just so she could avoid the inevitable.

But reading Adam Miller? It was like he had so much going on behind those eyes but fought frantically to keep it all sealed away. At least, he clearly wasn’t interested in sharing it with her.

Good idea. He’s grumpy and bad-mannered and way too attractive for your own good.

It was time to go home. She didn’t want to feel stirrings of anything. Not lust or desire. Or anything that would lead to hurt all over again. She didn’t have the time or the energy. She had to focus on sorting out her life and finalising her travel plans. She dropped his hand, letting the heat evaporate. ‘I should go.’

‘Yes.’ Without so much as a goodbye he walked towards the car park, his boots hanging from one hand. She noticed a slight favouring to the left. A barely perceptible limp, and she remembered the scarring. It didn’t detract from him, no. Not at all. The way he carried himself, erect and proud, the way he hid his limp like a secret, intrigued her. Compelled her to watch him again.

‘Oh, and next time you’d better keep your clothes on!’ Duh. The words were out before she had a chance to stop herself. One day she’d learn to keep her mouth shut.

He turned slowly and leaned against his truck, confusion and—was that incredulity?—on his face. She got the distinct impression that smile wasn’t in his vocabulary. Whereas dark, brooding and mysterious took centre stage. ‘Sorry?’

Yes, she was. For saying anything, and now she had to follow through. ‘Or you’ll get a reputation.’ She waved, trying to cover her cringing with a smile.

Before she said anything else equally as embarrassing she clicked her brain back to mothering mode and mentally checked off her evening to-do list—dinner, washing, laundry. Then the luxury of adventure-planning—visas, itinerary and packing. Nowhere in there was space for focus on grumpy mysterious strangers with abs to die for.

She watched Adam take off his jacket, revealing his bare torso again, and the tiny tattoo—a black and yellow dragonfly, she’d discovered—before climbing into his dusty truck. And she had the strangest feeling she needed to keep well away from Adam Miller’s tortured body, naked or not.

CHAPTER TWO

THREE days into the job and Adam had started to get twitchy. The view of the inside of the ambulance station was getting old. He eased the muscles in his shoulders, stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. ‘At what point do I actually get on the road and do something?’

‘Today’s your lucky day.’ Dan opened the ambulance cab door and climbed in. ‘The paperwork’s over, and your induction complete. Once we’ve finished the checks we’re good to go.’

‘Great. Bring it on.’ Adam exhaled deeply, finished his supply checks and stared at the cab radio, willing it to spring into life. Not that he was itching to get his hands on sick people, more that he needed something to keep his mind occupied. It had been too long since he’d done anything useful. Four long years in a jittery guilt-fuelled wilderness. Until he’d realised that feeling sorry for himself didn’t honour the memory of the people he’d lost. That action eased the pain of survival.

And being busy would keep his mind off dark, steamy eyes and tantalising curves. Starting the job for real would focus him on his true intent: getting on with the rest of his life. At least he could. There were others less lucky. He owed those not here any more a grab at a decent life, when theirs had been ripped away.

‘Here we go.’ Dan flicked the receiver as a crackly call came through. ‘Your wish is my command.’ He waited until Adam belted in then started the vehicle. ‘Eighty-four-year-old female with shortness of breath. We’re about twenty minutes away.’

‘Twenty minutes for an SOB?’ Adam bit back a surge of frustration. ‘How sick is she going to be when we finally reach her?’

‘Most of our time is spent getting to and from the patients and then to and from the hospital. The first responder gets there first, if they’re available, and gives us a call if we’re needed. That’s country medicine for you. We do the best we can. Anything too serious gets choppered to Auckland. Hold on.’ Dan revved up the engine and pulled away from the ambulance station.

Adam nodded. ‘This is going to take a bit of getting used to.’

‘Hardly front-line stuff here. Hope you don’t find it too slow?’

‘I’m looking for slow. Slow’s good.’ There had been times when he wouldn’t have cared. Slow. Fast. Live. Die. But he’d dragged himself back from that bleak darkness and was determined to leave the past alone. Slow seemed a pretty good start. Slow meant he could take in his surroundings, appreciate the beauty of now. Try to live in the moment. ‘I needed a change of scenery. Driving around this countryside is good for my soul.’

‘You’ve got to admit it’s a cool place to live.’ Dan pointed to the undulating, bush-clad hills and the deep turquoise ocean as they passed yet another secluded deserted cove. ‘Such awesome views. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. Must make a change to the army?’

‘Yeah.’ Adam chewed his cheek as his gut kicked. As soon as anyone ever mentioned the army he was bombarded with questions. Inevitable, really. But civilians only thought of the danger and the guns. They couldn’t understand how hard it was to talk about what he’d seen. What he’d done. What he needed to leave behind. If only it was that easy. His past had a nasty habit of creeping up on him, in the middle of the night usually, snatching away sleep and leaving him ice cold.

Dan glanced over and Adam waited for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long. ‘You seen any real action?’

‘Sure. Plenty.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘I was deployed in the hotspots—Iraq, Afghanistan, the places you’ve heard about but you won’t be getting a postcard from any time soon. Then I was in Timor-Leste just before …’ He paused. Closed down the memories. ‘Before I left.’

Dan shot him a look that said I won’t ask.

Adam was grateful for the reprieve, although he did think briefly about explaining. But, hell, he’d decided that the sooner he stopped thinking about what had happened, the sooner he’d be able to move on in his life.

The ambulance sped down the highway past the Atanga Bay turn-off. He craned his neck to look for the bright yellow medical centre. And some hint of Skye. Then realised he was being stupid.

What did he need with Little Miss Happy with a passport burning a hole in her pocket? Getting involved with her would be a quick path to disaster.

But he couldn’t deny an attraction had been there. Something had stirred in him that he’d thought was forever dormant. Thought he’d seen it in her eyes too.

So it was definitely not something to pursue.

He didn’t believe in some saccharin, happy-ever-after fairy-tale dream. Not after the failure of his marriage. Not when the scars of his fallen brothers criss-crossed his heart.

Stop. His hands fisted against his seat as he reaffirmed his resolve to look forward. Looking back never achieved anything but emotional whiplash.

He focused instead on the grand colonial buildings flanking the road, the flower-festooned gardens and the acres of fields stretching out east and west from the main road. A far cry from war-torn cities with bullet-pocked buildings and the smell of death.

He sucked in sea-scented fresh air and watched palm trees sway in the gentle breeze. Living here would definitely be the tonic he’d been searching for. Once the local practice nurse had gone and his equilibrium was restored.

One SOB, a broken femur and a road traffic accident later, Adam found himself in front of Atanga Bay surgery. Confused, he turned to Dan. ‘You got lost, mate? The station’s back that way.’

His colleague shrugged. ‘I just have a quick social call to make. Come in? I’ll introduce you to the gang. It’ll serve you well to get to know the local medical centres and it’s a home from home here.’

Adam paused, his refusal hovering on his lips. The last few years on the move had taught him that life was easier if he kept his head down and himself to himself. People wanted to know too much, expected him to give too much.

But Dan waited with an eyebrow cocked. As a newbie to the service, turning him down would look strange. ‘Sure.’

‘Hi, Dan! Adam.’

Of course Skye was there. Standing in Reception as they walked in, a stethoscope hung from her neck. The dark navy uniform gave her the appearance of the true professional Adam knew she was. He got a whiff of perfume. Something with vanilla. Subtle. An uplifting fragrance that matched her demeanour. Intoxicating. And way off limits.

‘Coffee’s in the percolator. There’s freshly made flapjacks in the tartan tin. Go on. You know you want to.’ She beamed up at them both and then focused on Adam. ‘Hardly recognised you with your clothes on.’

He swallowed deeply. This is work. Be friendly. Make an effort when others can’t. ‘Thought I should wear something for the day job. Didn’t want to give the patients apoplexy.’ Heat prickled the back of his neck. He ran his fingers over the knots there as if easing out the tension would help with the knot in his gut. No chance.

Her pupils flared as she spoke, warm and welcoming. ‘Dan will show you the way to our sparkly new staff kitchen. If you’re ever passing by, you must pop in, we run an open house here. I’ll be with you in a jiffy. Just got a quick blood pressure to check.’

‘I’d forgotten you two had met the other day. Great nurse, even better cook.’ Dan opened the tin of flapjacks and the air was filled with the aroma of golden syrup and butter. Home cooking. Not something Adam had had much on the road. His mouth watered.

And either Dan wasn’t used to home baking either, or he was just darned hungry, judging by the two pieces he had in his hand. ‘Quite a quirky character is our Skye. All hard on the exterior, and soft and gooey on the inside. A bit like these flapjacks, really. If you ask me, all that dark makeup’s just an act. She just wants to give men the stand-off.’

‘Oh?’ Those black-rimmed eyes hadn’t given him the stand-off, not when they’d stalked through his daydreams. No matter how much he’d tried to stop them.

Adam’s stomach growled as he bit down into the oaty slice. A blast of sugar made his cheeks hurt. ‘But why would she do that?’

‘History, mate. Some bloke in Auckland broke her heart. She’s sworn off men. Shame.’

Intrigued, Adam suddenly wanted to know more. Who? Why? And a dozen or so other things he found himself questioning about her. But gossip wasn’t his style. And neither was traipsing through someone else’s history. His brain worked to shut down his interest. All he wanted was a job he loved, a place of his own and not to get involved with anyone again. In any way. Anyhow.

‘Good, you found it.’ She flew into the room and greeted them with a flash of perfect white teeth. A regular ray of sunshine. Hell, if her smile got any brighter, he’d need to wear shades.

Having poured herself a coffee, she leaned against the sink next to Dan. ‘So, Dan, you still okay for tonight?’

His colleague shifted uncomfortably and Adam’s interest was piqued. A date?

Dan put his hand on Skye’s shoulder and she turned to him. From this vantage point Adam watched her in profile. Long black eyelashes accentuated those huge eyes. The glint as the jewel in her nose caught the light. The swell of her full breasts. And always that wide-open smile that welcomed everyone in.

Adam felt a stirring in his gut of something he’d long forgotten. And this while she was talking about a date? With his new colleague? He stomped on his instinctive reactions. Inappropriate.

‘No. That’s why I’m here. I can’t make it.’ Dan looked sheepish. ‘I’m really sorry, Skye. I didn’t mean to let you down.’

‘But you promised, Dan. We’re down to two now. Just me and Connor. Mim can’t do it because she’s way too big. She gets uncomfortable if she can’t move around.’ She shook her head and Adam glimpsed a frown. ‘So, there’ll only be two of us. That’s not going to work, is it? We need at least three or we might as well give up. The medical team needs you. It’s all falling apart.’

Judging by the seriousness of their tone it was imperative that someone step up. Clearly someone with medical skills. Never one to back down from the call of duty, Adam coughed. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Genius! Of course. You could do it. We need to train someone up for when I’ve gone anyway.’ Putting her hand on his arm, she sat down on the couch next to him. She winked at Dan then turned back. She laughed and leaned in. From this angle Adam caught a glimpse of pale skin and red lace. Interesting. So not everything about her was encased in monochrome, and when she did colour it was seriously appealing.

‘I only hope you’re up to the job, though, Adam. It’s a tough call. High pressure. Are you man enough?’

‘He knows about guns and all that stuff,’ Dan interjected. ‘He’s good on the van, knows his medicine. But I can’t vouch for his knowledge and skills in other areas. You know—’

‘What the hell am I getting myself into?’ Adam dragged his eyes away from the distraction. Sat up straight.

His heart thudded as he glanced between the two of them. The seriousness had dissipated and he had the distinct impression he was being taken for a ride. ‘Are you two winding me up? Is this some kind of initiation process, like in my new recruit days?’

‘Oh? Tell all.’ Her eyes widened.

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Another time maybe?’ She sipped her coffee and held his gaze for a second. Another. Then another. A flimsy invisible thread held them locked together. He knew he shouldn’t stare at her. But he couldn’t help it. Something about her bright sunny smile called to a dark corner of his soul. Soothed it. Healed it slightly. Which was a stupid notion, he knew. How could a smile heal?

Then she shook her head. ‘It’s not a wind-up. Far from it. It’s a matter of honour. And I guess you’d be good at that, being a soldier.’ Did he imagine it? Did her eyes linger for a moment on his scar?

‘I doubt it.’ He shrugged. Ran a hand across his cheek and tried to cover the slice in his face, the permanent reminder of all he’d lost. Monica hadn’t been able to look at his scar. She’d winced and turned her face away too many times. He’d believed it had reminded her of the man that had left and the shell she’d got in return.

But Skye just seemed interested in it.

Her eyes flitted away from his face and she clasped her hands in her lap. ‘We’re defending our eight-week championship run. Pub quiz. We’re the Mad Medics.’

‘The Mad …?’ He shook his head. He’d been had. More people, faces, noise. More trying hard to fit in. More dodging intimacy like bullets. But he’d stepped right into the trap and couldn’t back out now.

‘Tonight. Eight o’clock.’ She stood and beamed again. ‘You just got yourself on the team.’

‘You’re looking very glam for a pub quiz. Hoping to dazzle the opposition into surrender? Or is it … something else? For someone else?’ Connor placed a pinot gris in front of Skye and sat next to her at the small round table they’d reserved. For three. Only the third member hadn’t arrived yet. Was Adam going to turn up? He’d looked dubious earlier when she’d sprung it on him.

‘Oh, this old thing? It’s nothing special.’ She fiddled with the lace on her black top. One of the few items she’d bought on her last trip to Auckland. For ever ago. Something for a special night out. Not that they ever happened in Atanga Bay. In the dim light of her bedroom it had looked okay. It went well with her black skinny jeans. ‘Too fancy? Over the top?’

‘No. It’s fine. Crikey, haven’t seen you so wound up for ages.’

‘I’m not wound up. I just thought I’d make an effort for the team. No harm in that.’ Plus the waxing, plucking to within an inch of her life, shaving, exfoliating, mud wrap. All for a darned pub quiz. She’d clearly lost her mind. She pressed a hand to her cheek, hating being the focus of attention. She’d endured too much condemnation of her appearance in the past. ‘And don’t be ridiculous. Since when did I dress up for anyone? I gave that useless malarkey up years ago.’

After Brian, her ex, had told her over and over that no man would ever find her attractive, so why should she bother?

Not worthy of commitment. And the insecure fool that she’d been had believed him. Put up with years of abuse because she hadn’t believed she deserved better. But with a mother who cowered at the hands of her husband and a lifetime of putting her own needs after everyone else’s, it had taken Skye a long time to reclaim her self-esteem and identity.

So, why the heck had she got herself decked up in lace?

She didn’t want to answer that, but she hadn’t imagined the way Adam had looked at her at the beach. The warmth in his eyes, even if for a second. The same warmth mirrored in her eyes. There had been a connection there, she was sure. Or was that some kind of ill-judged wishful thinking? And all of that had fed her choice of clothing—subconscious or not.

She ran her palms over her arms and bit her top lip, trying to scrape off as much lipstick as she could. He wouldn’t notice. And it didn’t matter anyway, a relationship so close to her leaving would be far too complicated. And she wasn’t doing that again. Complicated came with a hefty dose of hurt.

‘I just thought, seeing as you’ve been talking non-stop about the newest member of the ambulance service … how he powered through the waves like a superhero.’ Connor fluttered his eyelashes and pretended to swoon. ‘How he saved poor Lukas from drowning. How he’s been in the army …’

‘Shut it. Last warning or time out.’ She smiled through gritted teeth. Was she that transparent? Her eyes flitted to the door. Again. ‘Besides, he didn’t look like he wanted to come. I should have asked Sean or Stevie to fill in instead.’

‘No disrespect, but your baby brothers have a combined IQ in single figures. From what I hear about Adam, he’s a little more cerebral than that.’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

Way more, actually. And brooding. And strangely compelling to look at. With a voice that carried echoes of sadness. And softness. And strength.

She took a large slug of her wine to refocus before she got completely carried away. He was just a guy.

She knew more about them than most, having three brothers—who were simultaneously infuriating and adorable.

And her ratbag of a stepfather, and Brian, the married sleazebag. Between the two of them, they had taught her that love was made up of hurt, lies and empty promises. And not for her.