Top-Notch Doc, Outback Bride. Melanie MilburneЧитать онлайн книгу.

      The skin of her palm was soft and warm, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have her massage the aching tension out of his neck.

      He pulled his hand away, as if by doing so he could tug himself away from where his thoughts were wandering. It had been so long since he had felt a woman’s touch. For six long lonely years he had ignored the natural and instinctive stirrings of his body, distracting himself with work until there wasn’t time or energy to think about what he was missing.

      No one in all that time had made his skin lift and tighten simultaneously at the merest touch. No one’s eyes had met his and seen more than he wanted them to see. No one’s smile had melted or even chipped at the stone of sadness that weighed down his soul.

      But Dr Kellie Thorne, with her featherlight touch and caramel-brown eyes and beautiful smile, certainly came close.

      Perhaps a little too close.

      Melanie Milburne says: ‘I am married to a surgeon, Steve, and have two gorgeous sons, Paul and Phil. I live in Hobart, Tasmania, where I enjoy an active life as a long-distance runner and a nationally ranked top ten Master’s swimmer. I also have a Master’s Degree in Education, but my children totally turned me off the idea of teaching! When not running or swimming I write, and when I’m not doing all of the above I’m reading. And if someone could invent a way for me to read during a four-kilometre swim I’d be even happier!’

       Recent titles by the same author:

      Medical™ Romance SINGLE DAD SEEKS A WIFE (Brides of Penhally Bay) THE SURGEON BOSS’S BRIDE HER MAN OF HONOUR

      Did you know that Melanie also writes for Modern™ Romance? Her stories have her trademark drama and passion, with the added promise of sexy Mediterranean heroes and all the glamour of Modern™ Romance!

      Modern™ Romance THE FIORENZA FORCED MARRIAGE THE MARCIANO LOVE-CHILD

      TOP-NOTCH DOC, OUTBACK BRIDE

      BY

      MELANIE MILBURNE

      To my dear friend and confidante

      Fiona Abercrombie-Howroyd. You never fail to amaze me with how you take life on with both hands, and when someone raises the bar you don’t balk but leap right over it. I am so proud of you and both of your gorgeous boys.

      CHAPTER ONE

      IT WASN’T the worst flight Kellie had ever been on but it certainly came pretty close. The three-hour delay at Brisbane airport had been annoying enough, but when she had finally boarded the twenty-seat regional service area plane she found a man was already sitting in her window seat.

      ‘Er…excuse me,’ she said, holding her boarding pass up. ‘I think you are in the wrong seat. I am 10A, you must be 10B.’

      The man looked up from the thick black book he was reading. ‘Would you like me to move?’ he asked in a tone that seemed to suggest he thought it would be totally unreasonable of her to expect him to unfold his long length from the cramped space he was currently jammed into.

      Something about the slightly arrogant set to his features made Kellie respond tartly, ‘I do, actually, yes. I always have a window seat. I specifically ask for it each time. I feel claustrophobic if I can’t see outside.’

      Using his boarding pass as a bookmark, the man got to his feet and squeezed out of the two-seat row, his tall figure towering over Kellie as he brushed past her to allow her room to get in.

      She felt the warmth of his body and her nostrils began to flare slightly as she tried to place his aftershave. Living with six men had made her a bit of an expert on male colognes, but this time she couldn’t decide if the primary citrus scent was lime or lemon based.

      She gave him a cool little smile and wriggled past him to sit down, but just as he was about to resume his seat she realised she didn’t have enough space under the seat in front for her handbag as well as her hand luggage. ‘Um…’ she said, swivelling back around to face him. ‘Would you mind putting this in the overhead locker for me?’

      He did mind, Kellie could tell. He didn’t say a word but his impossibly dark blue eyes gave a small but still detectable roll of irritation as he took her bag and placed it in the compartment above.

      He sat back down beside her and, methodically clipping his belt into place, returned to his book, his left arm resting on her armrest.

      Kellie inwardly fumed. It happened just about every time she flew and it was always a man, although she couldn’t help noticing that this one was a great improvement on any of the passengers she’d been seated next to in the past. He even smelt a whole lot better too, she decided as she caught another faint but alluring whiff of lemon-lime as she leaned down to stuff her handbag underneath the seat in front.

      While she was down there she noticed he was wearing elastic-sided boots. They weren’t dusty or particularly scuffed, which probably meant he was a cattle farmer who had dressed in his best to fly down to the big smoke on business and was now returning home. His long legs were encased in moleskin trousers and the sleeves of his light blue cotton shirt were rolled halfway up his lean but strong-looking and deeply tanned forearms.

      Yep, definitely a farmer, Kellie decided, although she couldn’t see any sign of him having recently worn a hat. Didn’t all Queensland cattle farmers wear hats? she mused. She noted his dark brown hair wasn’t crumpled but neatly styled, so neatly styled, in fact, she could make out the tiny grooves from a recent comb that had passed through the thick wavy strands.

      She sat back in her seat and for the sake of common politeness forced herself to give him a friendly smile. ‘Thank you for moving. I really appreciate it.’

      His dark eyes met hers and assessed her for a moment before he grunted, ‘It’s fine,’ before his head went back to the book he was holding.

      Right, then, Kellie thought sourly as she searched for both ends of her seat belt. Don’t make polite conversation with me, then. See if I care.

      She gave the left hand belt end a little tug but it wouldn’t budge from where it was lodged. ‘Er…excuse me,’ she said with a frosty look his way. ‘You’re sitting on my seat belt.’

      The man turned to look at her again, his tanned forehead frowning slightly. ‘I’m sorry, did you say something?’ he asked.

      Kellie pointed to the unclipped device in her hand. ‘I need the other end of this and, rather than go digging for it myself, I thought it would be polite to ask you to remove it yourself,’ she said with a pert tilt of her chin.

      Another faint flicker of annoyance came and went in his gaze as he removed the buckle and strap from the back of his seat and handed it to her silently.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said, her fingers brushing against his in spite of her effort to avoid doing so. She gave her fingers a quick on-off clench to remove the tingling sensation the brief touch had caused, but still it lingered under the surface of her skin as if he had sent an electric charge right through her body.

      That he wasn’t similarly affected couldn’t have been more obvious. He simply returned to his book, turning the next page and reading on with unwavering concentration, and even though the flight attendant asked for everyone’s attention while she went through the mandatory safety procedure, he remained engrossed in whatever he was reading.

      Typical