Flirting with the Socialite Doc

‘Fine.’

Another silence.

‘Look, about that little mix-up back at the pub—’ she began.

‘Forget it,’ he cut her off. ‘I’ll wait until you get inside. Lock the door, won’t you?’

Izzy frowned. ‘You know you’re really spooking me with this over-vigilance. Don’t you know everyone in a town this size by name?’

‘We have drive-throughs who cause trouble from time to time. It’s best not to take unnecessary risks.’

‘Not everyone is a big bad criminal, Sergeant Fletcher.’

He reached past her to open her door. Izzy sucked in a sharp breath as the iron bar of his arm brushed against her breasts, setting every nerve off like a string of fireworks beneath her skin.

For an infinitesimal moment her gaze meshed with his.

He had tiny blue flecks in that unreadable sea of grey and his pupils were inky-black. He smelt of lemons with a hint of lime and lemongrass and something else...something distinctly, arrantly, unapologetically male.

A sensation like the unfurling petals of a flower brushed lightly over the floor of her belly.

Time froze.

The air tightened. Pulsed. Vibrated.

‘Sorry.’ He pulled back and fixed his stare forward again, his hands gripping the steering-wheel so tightly his tanned knuckles were bone white.

‘No problem.’ Izzy’s voice came out a little rusty. ‘Thanks for the lift.’

He didn’t drive off until she had closed the door of the cottage. She leant back against the door and let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, listening as his car growled away into the night.

* * *

‘So what did your friend actually send you for your birthday?’ Margie Green asked as soon as Izzy arrived at the clinic the next morning.

‘I haven’t opened it yet.’ Because I stupidly left it in Sergeant Fletcher’s car last night.

Margie’s eyes were twinkling. ‘What on earth made you think our Zach was a male stripper?’

Izzy cringed all over again. Was every person in town going to do this to her? Remind her of what a silly little idiot she had been? If so, four weeks couldn’t go fast enough. ‘Because it’s exactly the sort of thing my friend Hannah would do. As soon as I saw him standing there I went into panic mode. I didn’t stop to think that he could be a real cop. I didn’t even know if Jerringa Ridge had a cop. I didn’t have time to do much research on the post because the agency asked me to step in for someone at the last minute.’

‘We have two cops...or one and a half really,’ Margie said. ‘We used to have four but with all the government cutbacks that’s no longer the case. Rob Heywood is close to retirement so Zach does the bulk of the work. He’s a hard worker is our Zach. You won’t find a nicer man out in these parts.’

‘I’m not here to find a man.’ Why did every woman over fifty—including her own mother—seem to think younger women had no other goal than to get married? ‘I’m here to work.’

Margie cocked her head at a thoughtful angle. ‘You’re here for four weeks. These days that’s a long time for a young healthy woman like you to be without a bit of male company.’

Izzy’s left thumb automatically went to her empty ring finger. It was a habit she was finding hard to break. It wasn’t that she regretted her decision to end things with Richard. It was just strange to feel so...so unattached. She hadn’t looked at another man in years. But now she couldn’t get Zach Fletcher’s eyes or his inadvertent touch out of her head...or her body. Even now she could remember the feel of that slight brush of his arm across her breasts—the electric, tingly feel of hard male against soft female...

She gave herself a mental shake as she picked up a patient’s file and leafed through it. ‘I’m not interested in a relationship. There’d be no point. I’m on a working holiday. I won’t be in one place longer than a month.’

‘Zach hasn’t dated anyone since he broke up with his ex,’ Margie said, as if Izzy hadn’t just described her plans for the next six months. ‘It’d be good for him to move on. He was pretty cut up about Naomi not wanting to come with him to the bush. Not that he’s said anything, of course. He’s not one for having his heart flapping about on his sleeve. He comes across as a bit arrogant at times but underneath all that he’s a big softie. Mind you, you might have your work cut out for you, being an English girl and all.’

Izzy lowered the notes and frowned. ‘Because his mother was English?’

‘Not only English but an aristocrat.’ Margie gave a little sniff that spoke volumes. ‘One of them blue-blooded types. Her father was a baron or a lord of the realm or some such thing. Olivia Hardwick was as posh as anything. Used to having servants dancing around her all her life. No wonder she had so much trouble adjusting to life out here. Love wasn’t enough in the end.’

Izzy thought of the veritable army of servants back at Courtney Manor. They were almost part of the furniture, although she tried never to take any of them for granted. But now was probably not a good time to mention her background with its centuries-old pedigree.

Margie sighed as sat back in her chair. ‘It broke Doug’s heart when she left. He hasn’t looked at another woman since...more’s the pity. He and I used to hang out a bit in the old days. Just as friends.’

‘But you would have liked something more?’ Izzy asked.

Margie gave her a wistful smile. ‘We can’t always have what we want, can we?’

Izzy glanced at the receptionist’s left hand. ‘You never married?’

‘Divorced. A long time ago. Thirty years this May. I shouldn’t have married Jeff but I was lonely at the time.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Margie shrugged.

‘Did you have children?’

‘A boy and a girl. They both live in Sydney. And I have three grandchildren who are the joy of my life. I’m hoping to get down to see them at Easter.’

Izzy wondered if Margie’s marriage had come about because of Doug Fletcher’s involvement with Olivia. How heartbreaking it must have been for her to watch him fall madly in love with someone else, and how sad for Doug to have the love of his life walk out on him and their young son.

Relationships were tricky. She knew that from her own parents, who had a functional marriage but not a particularly happy or fulfilling one. That was one of the reasons she had decided to end things with Richard. She hadn’t wanted to end up trapped in an empty marriage that grumbled on just for the sake of appearances.

‘Sergeant Fletcher asked me to make a house call on his father,’ Izzy said. ‘Has he rung to make an appointment yet?’

‘Not yet,’ Margie said. ‘He might drop in on his way to the station. Ah, here he is now. Morning, Zach. We were just talking about you.’

Izzy turned to see Zach Fletcher duck his head slightly to come through the door. Her stomach did a little freefall as his eyes met hers. He looked incredibly commanding in his uniform; tall and composed with an air of untouchable reserve. How on earth she had mistaken him for anything other than a cop made her cheeks fire up all over again. She ran her tongue over her lips before she gave him a polite but distant smile. ‘Good morning, Sergeant Fletcher.’

He dipped his head ever so slightly, his eyes running over her in a lazy, unreadable sweep that set her pulse rate tripping. ‘Dr Courtney.’

Izzy’s smile started to crack around the edges. Did he have to look at her so unwaveringly, as if he knew how much he unsettled her? Was he laughing at her behind that inscrutable cop mask? ‘What can I do for you? Would you like to make an appointment for me to come out and see your father today? I could probably work something in for later this afternoon. I’m pretty solidly booked but—’

He handed her the package the delivery guy had delivered the night before, his eyes locking on hers in a way that made the base of her spine shiver and fizz. ‘You left this in my car last night.’

Izzy could practically hear Margie’s eyes popping out of her head behind the reception counter. ‘Oh...right, thanks.’ She took the package from him and held it against her chest, where her heart was doing double time.

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Margie said.

‘Um...not right now.’