How to Resist a Heartbreaker

Too many guilty stabs about where he’d been and what he’d been doing instead of keeping watch over his family.

Too many memories of a pool of thick black curls, a sarcastic mouth.

And a very sexy smile.

CHAPTER THREE

‘HE’S HAD A LONG and difficult few hours, so don’t wake him.’ The night charge nurse finished her handover by parading the whole of the day staff in front of cubicle four.

Gabby’s chest did a funny little hitch at the sight of a sleeping Max. Slumped half on a chair and half on Jamie’s bed, he was completely and utterly comatose. And with stubble on his proud jaw he was completely and devastatingly gorgeous.

God. She glanced round at the rest of the crew. Could they all tell? Did she have ‘Guilty’ written all over her face? Did her smile scream I’ve just had fabulous sex with Mr I’m Sexy here?

She tried to make the smile more interested in the handover than the subject, as the unfamiliar ache of bedtime gymnastics thrummed through her body.

Bad, bad girl. Maybe her nonna had been right all along. She waited for the thunderbolt her grandmother had promised. The dark satanic music as she was dragged away to the bowels of hell.

Nothing happened. Gee—what a surprise.

If sex was so bad, why had it felt so good?

Her palm found its way to her throat. She tugged on the necklace she refused to take off. She knew exactly why.

Concentrate.

How would she ever concentrate with Max there?

‘Where’s Jamie’s mum?’ she whispered to the night nurse, dragging her eyes away from Max. God, he’d been amazing. She’d been amazing—and that threw her even more. She didn’t know she could be like that.

‘Mr Maitland sent Jodi home at five-thirty, once he’d got Jamie’s fever under control. Said she needed a good rest and a hot shower. He’s been here ever since. Wouldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t even let go of his hand.’

Gabby’s heart constricted as she noticed the tiny hand wrapped in Max’s fist. No. Harden up, Gabby. Don’t get involved. Don’t let a little boy tug at your heart. Or a grown man snag a piece of it.

Hurriedly closing the curtain and shushing the staff away, she took a moment to compose herself. Tried to think through the thud of her alcohol-induced headache and the wave of lust fizzing all the way down to her knees. She’d allocate Jamie to someone else. That way she wouldn’t have to spend any more time with Max or his family. No looking into too-blue eyes that made her feel weak. Then she’d avoid him, for the rest of her life.

The sluice was looking pretty attractive right now. The treatment room. Cleaner’s cupboard. Africa …

Coward.

Sure, sleeping with him had been epic. Fan-bloody-tas-tic. The best and most wild thing she’d done in a decade. Liberating. Affirming. Crazy. But now?

Not so much.

She didn’t regret it, though. It had been one amazing night that she’d always treasure. But focusing on him took her brain power away from the things that mattered—her new job, her future. Putting the cloistered past behind her. And that included Max and his far-side-of-minimal apartment. She refused to let everything go to hell again because of a man. Especially a man like Max Maitland.

She found one of the house officers loitering too near the biscuit tin at the nurses’ station. ‘Hey! Hands out. Are they clean?’

The HO snatched his hand away from the chocolate digestives and looked down at his fingers. ‘Er … yes.’

‘Makes a nice change.’ She refused to smile. She would start as she meant to go on. Her reputation as efficient and no-nonsense had preceded her. Give them a smile and before she knew it there’d be chaos … and no biscuits left. Every hospital ward was the same—the doctors always devoured the biscuits. ‘And you’re waiting here for.?’

‘Mr Maitland’s ward round. It started five minutes ago but he’s not arrived. That’s not like him. Should I call him?’

Cripes, and it was her job to accompany the ward round too.

So much for her well-constructed avoidance plan. ‘I’m sure he’s very busy and has just been held up. He’ll be along in a few minutes. Why don’t you chase up those blood results for Peter Brooks in the meantime?’

It was no sin to fall asleep when off duty but no doctor would want to be found sleeping on duty, even if he’d been up most of the night.

Scanning round for someone to go wake him up, she saw a very organised ward—her new staff all working under her strict instructions, getting patients up and washed, doing pre-op checks, dressing changes, no idle chit-chat. A hive of activity that left no one, no one else she could ask to stop their work and go and wake Mr Maitland.

That was the first time her efficiency had been back to bite her in the backside.

One steaming mug of coffee and a round of toast and jam later she dragged open the cubicle curtain. ‘Max? Mr Maitland?’

Placing the tray on the over-bed table, she bent to his ear. Resolutely did not breathe in that delicious smell that had driven her wild and that she’d been reluctant to shower off only hours ago.

Did not look at the stubbled cheek she’d dropped a kiss on as she’d left.

Did not allow herself any spare emotions other than that she was very busy and he was taking up her time. ‘Oi! Maitland, wake the hell up.’

‘Lovely to see you again, too.’ He lifted his head from the sheets, creases streaking down his cheek. The sweet curl of his lips made her heart hiccup in a peculiarly uncomfortable way. She’d kissed that mouth. It had roamed over her body into places no one else’s mouth had ever been. That mouth had given her so much pleasure she felt the heat seep into her cheeks at the memory.

But there was a line between kissing and fun and a bit of harmless sex, and the cold harsh reality of relationships. Harmless sex? Boy, she’d been dreaming that day ten years ago. And after her heart had been shattered into too many pieces she’d made sure she kept on the right side of that line.

Even though last night she’d tested it, seen how much the line could bend, nothing Mr I’m Sexy could do would drag her to the dark side.

He sat up and stretched, glanced over at Jamie—satisfied himself with his observation—and then turned back to her. ‘So you didn’t disappear into thin air after all, Gabby. Here you are. Lovely … and fresh … and … so loud?’

‘Busy ward, Mr Maitland. Busy day.’

‘After what you did to me last night you can definitely call me Max.’ His smile morphed into that wicked look he’d had in the bar. ‘How’s the head? How are you?’

She so did not want to have this conversation. ‘Fine. Now eat this. Quickly. Your ward round was due to start fifteen minutes ago. We need to get a wriggle on.’

And they’d done a lot of that last night, too. Her cheeks blazed.

His mouth twitched. He rested his chin on his hand and held her gaze, his eyes misty with sleep. His hair was dishevelled and annoyingly perfectly ruffled. Sex hair.

It would be so easy to just lean in and kiss him again. But she pushed the plate towards him instead. ‘Hurry up. I haven’t got all day.’

His hand covered hers. ‘Not before we clear the air.’

‘Nothing to clear.’ She twisted her hand out of his grip.

‘You sure, Charge Nurse Radley? You were an animal. I particularly liked that thing you did with your finger—’

‘Do not …’ His proximity was jangling the one nerve she had left. First proper day in charge and she did not need this distraction.

She glanced over to make sure Jamie was still asleep. Peered out through the curtains to see if anyone could hear.

The patient in the next bed grinned at her and waggled his finger. Gabby silently wished the poor sick teenager a swift dose of short-term memory loss and dodged back behind the curtain.

She jabbed her filed-to-a-sharp-point fingernail into Max’s chest. ‘Okay. You. Me. Sluice. Now.’

‘But I’ve got a ward round.’

‘Coward.’

‘Never, ever challenge me like that. Because I have no fear, Gabby.’ His words breathed down her neck as he followed her into the sluice and closed the door.

Trapped. In a small, hot room. Alone. No, not alone—with six feet three of glorious out-of-bounds hunk. ‘You want to taunt me some more? Just to see?’

‘I am a professional person trying hard to get a little respect around here. You do not talk to me like that when there are patients close by.’

‘So I can talk like that now?’

‘Absolutely not.’ Her mouth tipped into a smile. She tried to stop it. Bit her lips together, tensed the muscles, but the smile kept coming. ‘And I was not an animal.’

‘I meant it in a good way. Uncaged, wild.’

He leaned against the steriliser, folded his arms, his legs crossed at the ankles. So relaxed that clearly the one-night thing was a common occurrence for him. She’d probably been just a notch in his magnificently handcrafted bed. She’d bet anything his heart didn’t pound and skip and jitter like hers did.

His eyes pinpointed her, fixed her to the floor. He started to lift his shirt up, inching very slowly over that fine line of hair that pointed straight down towards his zipper. She swallowed through a dry mouth. Watched as centimetre by centimetre his abs then pecs were revealed.

His voice was hoarse and inviting. ‘I’m sure I’ve got scratches on my back. You want to check?’

‘No, I do not. Put yourself away.’ Before I jump your bones. ‘We’re not going to talk about this again. Okay? That person you met last night? That’s not me. That was a different Gabby.’

‘Not the real you? You seemed very real. You felt very real … Oh. No … the animal thing …’ He hit his head against the steriliser. ‘Please, God, don’t tell me I’ve woken up in some sort of paranormal universe? You’re not going to go all weird or hairy and shapeshift on me?’

Laughter burst from her throat. ‘No. I was just drunk, which is a rarity. Thank God.’ She’d been bewitched by Max, or the mojitos. Either way, she wouldn’t be giving a repeat performance. And she would never ever drink again. No matter how much she wanted to forget. She pointed to her scrubs. ‘This is the real me. This is the only Gabby you’re going to know. At work. Charge Nurse Radley.’

‘Which is a damned shame all round.’

Yes, it was. ‘And now we go out there and pretend we don’t know each other at all. At least, not in the biblical sense.’

‘Right.’ His teasing grin told her he could pretend all she liked. But he knew her. Knew her.

‘Right.’

‘Excuse me …’ The door swung open and Max Maitland walked through it. She did a double-take. Talk about a paranormal universe.

Max leaning against the steriliser, all cocksure and oversexed.

Max standing at the door in pyjamas, wheeling a drip that was attached to his arm, pale and tired-looking.

The in-patient one was minutely shorter, had longer hair and an air of worry around him. Unlike the doppelgänger in the corner. He was just downright smug. Or had been. His jaw tightened.

‘Whoa.’ She’d heard they were brothers, but no one had mentioned identical twins. How could there be two such beautiful men in the world? It made her head spin.

And did Max Two have the same freckle just above his.? Could he make her gasp and moan?

Stop.

She banished such thoughts as she held up her palms. ‘This is weird. Can—?’

Her Max was by Max Two’s side in a second. Her Max? What the.?

His cocky demeanour evaporated into concern, his voice lowered. ‘Are you okay? Who said you could leave your bed, Mitchell?’

‘I did.’ Max Two glowered.

‘I was going to come and check on you. You should have waited until the ward round.’

‘I was told you hadn’t even started it. I came to see Jamie …’ He gripped the drip pole as his jaw tightened to exactly the same tension as Max’s. ‘In case he needed anything.’

So alpha clearly ran in the family. She wanted to tell him that Max had spent a good part of the night looking after that scrap of life out there. And was running late because of it.

But she held her counsel. ‘Would anyone like to introduce me?’

Max turned and smiled. ‘Yes. Sorry. This is my brother, Mitchell. He was the transplant donor for Jamie. He’s also consultant ED specialist here when he’s not on the dark side. Mitch, this is the new paediatric HDU charge nurse, Gabby.’

‘Gabby. Hello.’ Mitch’s eyebrows rose as he looked from Max to Gabby then back again.

There was a distinct edge between the brothers. So close in appearance, but a gulf stretched between them.

Oh, she knew enough about families that things didn’t always run smoothly, that there were crises and ups and downs. Hell, she knew you could be angry and disappointed with someone for years and years, but you still had to treat them with respect.

Because they were family.

And family, she’d had drummed into her, was everything. Which was why things had turned out so perversely in the end. Why she wasn’t going to have one of her own. Because now she’d wrested some control into her life, she’d never give it up.

But this Maitland thing seemed different. The brothers stood aloof, distant. There was a strange cold charge between them. And yet a child’s life hung in the balance out there. More than anything that should count. Surely they should be united in that?

Mitch nodded towards her. ‘I came to find out who’s looking after Jamie today.’

‘I allocated him to Rachel. She’s very competent. Last thing I heard she was just about to give him his breakfast. Why don’t you come and see him? He’s probably ready for some daddy hugs. Then perhaps we could alert your nurses to your whereabouts.’

She ushered them out of her sluice room. As things had been progressing with Max in a way-too-dangerous direction, Gabby was thankful for the interruption. But perturbed by the existence of not one but two very distracting Maitlands.

Surely to God one was enough.

Six hours later Gabby finally found a moment to breathe. Slumping into the soggy orange sofa in the ward staff lunch-room, she broke out her sandwiches and yoghurt and started to eat.

Luckily the ward round had run smoothly. Jamie appeared to be making it through his first day post-op with just a niggling temperature. And there had been no major events.

Apart from her near heart attack every time Max brushed past her on the drug round, at the nurses’ station, along the corridor. Was it normal for a doctor to spend so much time on one ward?

Of course it was—he was dedicated, hard-working. And always, it seemed, there.

‘Gabby? We meet again.’

There. See? Always there, his deep voice making her stomach do cartwheels. She swallowed her mouthful of tuna mayonnaise. ‘I’m just leaving, actually.’

‘No, you’re not. Your feet are tucked up, your shoes discarded across the floor, you’re only halfway through a magazine and if I know women well …’ He let the ‘and I do’ hang in the silence. Well, hell, he certainly knew how to please a woman, as she’d learnt last night. ‘You won’t go until you finish the article on best celebrity diets.’

He squished down onto the cushion next to her, mug in hand. The fabric of his scrubs stretched tautly against the muscle of his thigh. The thigh she’d caressed, gripped and, by all accounts, scratched. She dragged her gaze back to his mouth, his words. ‘Which means, Gabriella, that we have time for a quick chat.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She made a big deal of slipping her feet into her shoes, checking her watch, weighing up her options. Still ten minutes of her break left. She could leave now and attend to the piles of paperwork or she could last out her break. With him. In here.

She felt the heat in her cheeks and knew her stupid body was betraying her. What to do? ‘I told you, Max. I’m not open to that.’

‘To what?’

‘More of last night. The whole sex thing.’

‘Yes. No. Me too. Although … I could be persuaded. You have to admit it was good. We were good. Anytime you want a replay, I’m your man.’ His eyes glinted and he appeared to be holding back a laugh.

Annoyingly, she liked it when he laughed. His whole body lit up and his attention focused totally on her. Made her feel he’d laughed just because of her. This was why she didn’t date. Didn’t want to get caught up in the lure and charm of someone like Max.

He leaned forward a little. ‘Don’t look so worried. I was only going to let you know I’m off to my outpatient clinic. Jamie’s temp is still wobbly, so I’m going to arrange for some more scans to double-check everything. Should be later today. In the meantime, if you need anything, call the house officer.’

‘Oh. Okay. Of course, that’s fine. And I’ll personally check Jamie’s obs.’ She managed to bluff her way through her embarrassment.

Of course he’d put their night behind him. He was a player. And at work. She’d already given him the brush-off and he’d moved on. A guy like Max wouldn’t ask twice. Didn’t need to—there would be plenty of other offers. The gossip machine whirred with his and his brother’s sexual exploits. ‘How’s Mitchell doing?’

His eyes darkened and his back stiffened at the mention of his brother. She got the impression that, like her, he didn’t talk about personal stuff. Even if personal stuff included a patient and a member of hospital staff.

‘Mitchell is fine.’ He stood to leave, but paused. ‘I think I might need to apologise for him.’

‘For what?’

‘Let’s just say that tact isn’t his forte.’

‘Believe me, I don’t think anything you Maitland brothers do could shock me. Your reputations go before you.’

Because once she’d discovered they were identical she’d made it her business to discover as much about them as possible. Didn’t want to find herself propositioning the wrong brother!

She knew about Max’s history as a heartbreaker, sure, and there were lots of women queuing up to try to cure him of that. What she hadn’t expected to hear was that he and Mitchell had barely spoken a word to each other for the last few years they’d both been working at the hospital. That some kind of feud boiled between them, making communication on any scale largely impossible. That no one really knew why.

No matter—she didn’t need to know much past who to call in an emergency. She tore off the top of her yoghurt and licked the lid.

Max grinned, reached across the back of the sofa and stuck a spoon into her yoghurt pot. Ignoring her whack on the back of his hand, he licked, eyebrows peaked. ‘So I have a reputation?’

‘Oh, yes. Big and bad.’

‘Tough job, but someone had to do it.’ He perched on the edge of the sofa arm and finished the rest of the yoghurt she held out to him.

‘It depends if good-time guy and commitment-phobe float your boat.’

‘What can I say? Having fun isn’t a crime.’

‘Not just you—your brother too.’ She didn’t even try to lose the laugh. ‘So who’s the oldest? You or Mitchell?’

‘Me. By twenty minutes.’

A blink of an eye really, and yet the responsibility clearly sat heavily on him. Operating on his younger brother’s son must have played a part in the wisps of grey at his temples. Made him look sophisticated, self-assured. Belied the playful spirit she knew lurked underneath his professional mask.

‘You must have had a lot of fun growing up with a twin. I always wanted a sister, someone to talk to. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about twins. Swapping clothes. Swapping girlfriends. Conning teachers. Secret languages …’

The grin slipped. ‘We weren’t close.’

‘How so? That’s unusual for twins. Were you always vying for position? Too much competition?’

‘Geography.’

And with that he shook his head and left the room. It was as if a switch had been flicked. All his good humour and good manners had instantly evaporated, leaving her feeling uncomfortable and strangely bereft.

What did he mean? Geography? The academic subject? Or geography as in distance?

It didn’t matter and it certainly wouldn’t have any bearing on her professional relationship with him. And she really shouldn’t care.

And if she did, it was only her innate reaction that a human being could look so hopelessly, horribly lost—if only for a second.

Before he’d managed to pull up the barriers again.

CHAPTER FOUR

SO, HE’D SAID more than he should have. That was the trouble with sleep deprivation—it did funny things to a man’s brain.

As did beautiful women. He usually handled it, no problem. But Max couldn’t put a finger on what bothered him so much about Gabby Radley. Sure, she was distractingly beautiful. But he’d taken gorgeous women to bed before and had never sought them out the next day.

And she was funny. But he’d met plenty of amusing women.

It all came back to the way one look of hers could pierce his soul.

In the staff room she’d only been making polite conversation. She hadn’t attached him to a lie detector and demanded answers. And yet for the first time ever he’d felt like talking about his past. About the way things had careered out of control, about everything he’d lost. And had never got back.

No matter. He’d survived so far—excelled, in fact. Spilling his guts to a woman wouldn’t change a thing.

He exited the lift and huffed out a long breath. The day had melted into forty-eight hours of constant demands, an unexpected death, dealing with a grieving family. The gut-wrenching reminder that life was so fragile.

All he needed was a shower and bed. Where he could put everything out of his mind. Focus on rest and getting ready for more surgery tomorrow. Ensuring Jamie got better. Putting things back together with Mitch. Forgetting Gabriella.

Gee, there’d been a time when he’d had no one to think about but himself. Be careful what you wish for.

Turning the corner towards his apartment, a flash of colour grabbed his attention. Scarlet in the midst of the carefully designed neutral palette. A splash, vivid. Bright.

Weird. He got closer. A plant? A red plant. In a black ceramic pot.

Not a pretty plant either—this was gnarled wood, browny-green leaves, a bunch of itsy red petals. He picked it up and examined it. It had a strange smell.

Why the hell would anyone leave him a plant?

Shrugging, he let himself into his apartment where the fading remnants of Gabby’s fragrance hit him square in the solar plexus. Between her and the plant they were going to fumigate him out of the penthouse.

He held his breath as he placed the plant on the kitchen bench. Stepped back. It didn’t look right—too much red.

Moved it to the dining table. No.

The coffee table. No.

It was too eye-catchingly bright, a misfit, chaotic in the sea of … in Gabby’s eyes, bland. God, now he was looking at everything from her perspective too. He really needed to stop that.

He didn’t notice the note until he’d put the plant outside on the deck. Hoping for out of sight, out of mind.

Max,

I’d rate your so-called ‘garden’ a woeful one.

And that’s only because it’s so cool to even have a garden at twenty thousand feet. Here’s something to help it rise up the scale.

Charge Nurse Radley

He smirked and began jabbing numbers into his phone. Made a few calls. On the last one she picked up. ‘Hello?’

‘What the hell am I supposed to do with this … monstrosity?’

‘Good evening to you too, Mr Maitland. It’s a geranium. They’re very popular in France. People put them in window boxes.’

He heard the laughter in her voice and immediately relaxed. ‘If I did that and it fell off the railing, it’d kill someone. It’s a long way down.’ He peered down to the city street hundreds of feet below. ‘Why are you giving me lethal weapons?’

‘It’s a flower, but you’re a guy so everything has to be a weapon, right? It was more about encouraging you to take time out to smell the … er, geraniums. Besides, it’s a sin to live anywhere where there aren’t flowers.’