Seduced by the Heart Surgeon Read online

  Would she?

  Of course she would. The attraction had been through the roof but by ten he’d downgraded his expectations because the speeches were surely well over with.

  By eleven-thirty he’d woken from a doze and stared out to the LA night.

  Not at the city but at the mountains beyond and he knew he had to ring his parents before the lines got busy. He got up and took out his cellphone and took a steadying breath before he made the call.

  Zack was thirty-three and the last time he’d been home, a couple of years ago, he’d been the same age as his brother Toby had been when he had died.

  Except Toby had been married and working in the family practice and his wife, Alice, had wanted to start a family.

  Whereas Zack, as his parents had constantly pointed out, was a drifter.

  He was a highly skilled paediatric cardiac surgeon, Zack had riposted, but that was just boasting, he was told. And what good were his skills when they were so badly needed in Kurranda, the remote outback town where he and Toby had been raised.

  He could picture the phone ringing in the hall. Reception was haphazard there and the landline to the family doctor really was a lifeline for the community.

  His mother answered on the third ring.

  ‘Hey, Mum,’ Zack said. ‘Happy New Year.’

  ‘I’m sure it is where you are.’

  Zack closed his eyes, it was just more of the same.

  ‘How’s Nepal?’

  ‘I’m in LA,’ Zack answered.

  ‘I thought you had to be in Nepal.’

  ‘I did have to be there for Christmas,’ Zack answered. ‘There was an operation I wanted to do before I left but we had to wait for some equipment to arrive. I would have been home if I could.’

  ‘Well, why aren’t you now?’

  ‘Because I’ve got an interview tomorrow.’

  ‘In LA?’

  ‘It’s a top medical centre. They’ve got some of the most amazing equipment and facilities and I don’t want to let that side of things slide...’ Zack stopped even attempting to explain. He did not want to argue with his mother. Judy Carlton simply could not, would not, get it, and Zack was over trying to explain. ‘Is Dad there?’

  ‘You just missed him. He got called out for Tara. Do you remember her?’

  Of course he damn well remembered, they’d been friends. What his mother didn’t know was that they had been each other’s first. Zack had fought to stop that getting out as Tara’s father was very religious.

  Zack stayed silent.

  ‘She married Jed.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well, the baby’s not due till the end of January but it looks as if she might deliver early and it’s breech. I can’t talk for long, they might need the air ambulance...’

  ‘I get it.’ Zack said. ‘Will you wish Dad a happy New Year for me and could you—?’

  ‘Zack,’ his mum broke in, ‘you should be here to say it to him for yourself. Even if you’d just come home on a stopover it would have been something.’

  ‘I would have but this interview is being slotted in, they need me to start straight away. There’s a very sick child—’

  ‘Oh, I don’t have time for your fancy position,’ Judy said. ‘I’ll pass on to Tara and her husband how well you’re doing, shall I?’

  Zack knew that translated to, You should be back here, scrubbing in with your father, rather than Tara having to be airlifted. ‘That was a low blow.’

  ‘I know.’ His mother didn’t quite apologise. ‘I’m tired, Zack, and your dad is too. He didn’t get any break over Christmas and the place just seems to be getting busier. So much for retiring.’

  Zack closed his eyes. Sometimes he wished he could just give up on his own dreams and give them the solution they wanted.

  ‘By now you and Toby...’ Judy swallowed and Zack then heard his mother, a very strong woman, give way to tears. New Year always did that to her and this coming year marked another difficult milestone. ‘It will be ten years soon.’

  ‘I know it will.’

  At the beginning of February it would be ten years since Toby had died.

  He and Zack had been on a weekend away. Both had been good horsemen but a snake had spooked Toby’s horse and thrown him off.

  Zack looked out of the hotel window again and out towards the dark shadows of the hills and thought of the red earth of home. Even if he didn’t want to be there for ever he missed it at times and now was one of those times. As he stood there he remembered too the agony of hours spent with his brother, waiting for help to arrive while knowing there was none to be had.

  At the age of thirty-one Toby had died in his younger brother’s arms.

  Zack knew his mother needed to talk and so he forgot about the sniping and let her.

  ‘Things would be so different if he was still alive. He loved the clinic. Toby and your father had such plans for it. Alice is pregnant again by her new husband.’

  He was hardly her new husband, Zack thought. Alice had been remarried for seven years.

  ‘Mum, she’s allowed to be happy.’

  ‘She and Toby were so happy, though,’ Judy said. ‘I wanted grandchildren.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And that’s not going to happen, is it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you seeing someone?’

  She asked him the same question every time they spoke and it was always the same answer he gave. ‘No one serious.’

  ‘Zack...?’

  ‘What?’ Zack said, and when there was silence he told her the truth. ‘Mum, I won’t be giving you grandchildren.’

  Zack was direct, yes. There was no point giving her false hope. The life his parents had planned for him wasn’t the one he wanted. He never wanted to be tied down, not to one person and not to one place.

  Zack wasn’t cruel, though.

  What he didn’t tell his mother was that Toby had been far from happy with his life.

  That was the reason Toby had called him up and asked if he’d join him on a weekend away. There, in the outback, lying by a fire, looking up at the stars, Toby had told him the truth—that he felt stifled, and wanted away, not just from Kurranda and the medical practice but also from his marriage.

  Zack had been stunned. He’d thought that Alice and Toby, childhood sweethearts, had been so happy but Toby had told him that, no, things hadn’t been good for a very long while.

  It had been a long night spent talking, sometimes seriously, but also they’d shared laughter, not knowing what was to come the very next day.

  Toby hadn’t quite taken that secret to his grave, it had been left with Zack. He’d never shared it with anyone and it weighed heavily inside.

  ‘I really do have to go,’ Judy said. ‘I’d better head over there now in case your dad needs help to organise the air ambulance and things...’ His mother wasn’t a doctor or nurse but she was a huge part of the fabric of the town. She would liaise with the air ambulance and locals and make sure the transfer was seamless. Then she’d have Tara’s parents over for coffee and a meal as they awaited news.

  That was who his mother was.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ Zack said.

  Judy made a small huffing noise.

  His parents had decided, on Toby’s death and Zack’s failure to settle, that there could be no more happy years.

  ‘Happy New Year, Zack,’ Judy said, but even that came out with a slight edge. Zack made sure he was happy, that he lived, that he grabbed this rare gift by the throat and got every bit of life out of it.

  He’d promised his brother he would.

  ‘Mum,’ Zack suddenly said. ‘I’ll come home for a visit in April. Tell Dad that.’

  ‘For how long?’


  ‘I’m not sure, but I’ll be back to see you both then.’

  He ended the call and though he could not stand the thought of living back there, and being in a place where everyone knew your business, it didn’t mean he didn’t love nature and space and the people.

  And, though things were strained, he loved his family.

  Zack lay on the bed and closed his eyes but he couldn’t unwind. Speaking with his parents always left him feeling like that. The plans his parents had had for him had been set in stone from the day he was born. They just hadn’t thought to consult the baby they had made.

  He was to study medicine in Melbourne as his father and brother had done, but even before he had left for the city Zack had known in his heart that he wasn’t coming back.

  Tara had known it too.

  Of course he remembered Tara.

  Not just the hot, sexy kisses behind a barn and sultry outback nights, more he remembered a conversation that had taken place the night before he’d left as they’d lain in each other’s arms. ‘You’re not coming back, are you?’ Tara had asked.

  ‘You talk as if I’m leaving the country. I’m only going to Melbourne. I’ll be back for the summer breaks.’ Even at eighteen he’d been direct. ‘But, no, I can’t see myself here, Tara.’

  ‘And I don’t want to be there,’ Tara said. She was a country girl and loved it and neither wanted to change or to change the other.

  ‘Have you told your parents?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve tried,’ Zack said. ‘They don’t understand.’

  He was still trying.

  And all these years later they still didn’t understand.

  Zack went to pour a drink but the half-bottle of wine was empty and he wasn’t a big fan of American beer.

  He was about to ring for room service but, still churned up from the conversation with his mother, he pulled on his boots again and took the elevator down, but it only took him to the mezzanine level and he decided to take the escalator down to the bar.

  There were people everywhere, all standing on the stairs, and then he found out why.

  The wedding.

  ‘You’ll have to use the elevators if you want to get to the ground floor,’ someone told him, and they sounded annoyed. ‘The escalators and stairs are in use.’

  And there was the woman from said elevator, organising the wedding party, telling people to step back or to stand a fraction more to the left.

  Zack watched as a gentleman came over to her and whatever she said had him step abruptly back.

  Oh, she was a snappy, bossy little thing, Zack thought.

  Not with him, though.

  And then she looked up.

  Oh, my... Freya thought, and another of Edward’s sleazy come-ons left her mind.

  If Mr 2812 had been sexy before, he was sinfully so now—dishevelled and just raw male, he made her toes curl in her very painful shoes. His hair was messy, his T-shirt was all crumpled and, alongside all the suits and formal clothes, in those dark jeans and tight T-shirt he stood out, deliciously so.

  Freya dragged her mind away from rude thoughts. This shot was important and the countdown had started. Beth and Neil were in position and everyone was in place and she should be able to relax soon. All she had to do was wave the happy couple off and the rest of the night was hers.

  Concentrate, Freya.

  She couldn’t.

  There was just this prickling awareness all over her as she recalled his scent and the feel of his hand on her arm.

  Oh, God. She gazed up at him and hoped her eyes weren’t frantic, but that was how she suddenly felt—frantic for him.

  ‘Ten!’ everybody shouted. ‘Nine!’

  They could not stop staring and, as the countdown drew to its conclusion, as everyone started cheering and kissing, Beth’s carefully organised photos were ruined by a tall guy bursting through and dashing down the stairs.

  ‘Auld Lang Syne’ was being sung out around them as his hands took her by the upper arms. Briefly she wondered why, instead of kissing her as she badly needed him to do, he was moving her away. But then Freya found out exactly why.

  This wasn’t a kiss suitable for public exposure.

  They were in a small booth to the side of the hotel’s reception when his mouth first met hers. They came together so hard that their teeth met and his tongue was strong and thick and very indecent. Her hips were held by him, and animal passion, which had never taken up residence in Freya before, rapidly made itself right at home.

  Her hands were pressing into his chest, not to push him away, just to feel him, to rub those solid muscles beneath greedy palms. Then they went up to his head and her fingers dug into his hair. She kissed him back on tiptoe, so that her heels lifted up out of her shoes in an attempt to scale him.

  He pulled back and gave her an intense look and there was no mention of going up for a drink.

  ‘I have to get back...’ It was a feeble protest she made. ‘I just need ten more minutes to sort the wedding party out.’

  ‘We can’t wait.’

  His erection was in her groin and Freya herself was pressing hard into him.

  ‘I have to make sure that they get off okay...’

  He peered out.

  ‘They’re waving and the bride is about to throw the bouquet. Do you want to go and try to catch it?’

  The question was a loaded one.

  What was she looking for—an amazing night with no names, or to dash off and catch the bouquet and the dream that it might one day be her?

  ‘God, no,’ Freya said. She was more than happy with being a third-time bridesmaid and so she took his head in her hands and got back to that mouth for one more deep kiss before they hit the elevators.

  Freya pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor.

  ‘You remembered,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, yes!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  SADLY FOR THEM the elevator was full.

  The wedding guests were dispersing and either heading to their rooms or to the bars. There were many, many opportunities for Freya to change her mind on the long and frustrating ride to the twenty-eighth floor and say that this was a terrible idea and so not like her.

  It never entered Freya’s head to do so.

  Her rigid, controlled life was in desperate need of fun and adventure, and he offered that and more.

  He was beautiful.

  Even with her back to him she could feel the energy between them, it was utter attraction and arousal at its most basic and Freya could not wait to indulge.

  ‘What floor are you on?’ he asked, running a finger over her bare shoulder as they crawled towards her floor. His touch was electric and, yes, it was terribly tempting to get off at the tenth floor, but there might be a problem as she hadn’t packed her toiletry bag with a wild night in mind.

  She gave a small shake of her head and then turned and looked him right in the eye as the elevator came to her floor and a couple got out.

  ‘I haven’t got...’ she mouthed.

  ‘I have,’ he mouthed back. Of course he did, Freya thought. This guy had nearly had her at five p.m. after all—no doubt he came prepared for women dropping their knickers on sight—but they were already past her floor and so they waited—oh, how they waited—for them to hit his floor.

  As the crowd thinned out there was a bit more space but they didn’t utilise it. She could feel his eyes on her shoulder, on her spine, and then she got the bliss of his mouth on the part of her she hated the most.

  She leant back into him even as the doors opened.

  ‘Thank God,’ Zack said, and he took her hand and they just about ran the length of the corridor.

  He opened up the door and they fell into the room. Their m
ouths locked and they didn’t bother with the lights. Just hot, hard kisses as Freya kissed him with abandon up against the wall.

  He more than partook because he tore that dress off and the sound of it ripping was as delicious as the feel of his hands on her bare skin.

  ‘Oh, God,’ he said as he played with her breasts and tweaked her nipples as if he’d been waiting for them all night.

  He had been.

  Freya had never been more grateful for ignoring the bride’s plea because, unable to resist a taste, he lowered his head and took one nipple into his hungry mouth.

  ‘She wanted me to wear sticking plasters over them.’

  ‘We don’t like the bride,’ he said as he withdrew his mouth, and it made her laugh. It was just such a relief after a very long and difficult day to laugh and vent to someone who got her. He took the other breast in his mouth and sucked hard. Freya pushed him off, only because it was her turn to taste his salty chest. Oh, he tasted amazing, like he’d been swimming in the ocean and had then showered in ice. Salty, refreshing and so firm.

  Freya dealt with his heavy leather belt as best she could with her mouth on his chest, licking him, tasting him and then moaning her frustration.

  ‘Why button-ups...?’ Freya whimpered.

  ‘So I can picture your fingers undoing them and getting it out.’ She was doing just that and Freya herself wasn’t gentle. He was so thick and long and already there was a silver drizzle that trickled onto her fingers as she explored him.

  ‘Get naked,’ he told her, and he went into his pocket. He wished he’d kicked off his boots so he could do the same but there really wasn’t time. As she shed her knickers he dressed his erection and Freya toppled a little as she took off her shoes.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, and she just stepped to him and he lifted her to where she’d wanted to be all along.

  ‘Oh...’ He didn’t guide her on, he held her hips as her hands went behind his neck.

  ‘Lean back,’ he told her, and as he held her by the hips he rubbed her wet sex over his stomach and scented himself with her.