Prognosis Christmas Baby - Amy Andrews Page 0,10

mattress on the floor, cocooned in warm blankets from the blanket warmer, trying to sleep. But her thoughts kept turning to Nash Reece with his impossible blue eyes.

Damn it! She was supposed to be sleeping.

She had one precious hour to recharge her batteries and here she was staring at the ceiling with Nash’s I like seeing you flustered, Maggie Green whispering its treachery into her subconscious.

After twenty minutes she admitted defeat, got up and headed for the tearoom, feeling tired and irritable. She was going to have to settle for bad late-night TV and a cup of tea instead. She was channel-surfing when Nash entered the room a little later.

‘Couldn’t sleep, Maggie?’

His voice purred around her and her irritation ballooned. It was all his fault she was going to feel like death warmed up in the morning.

‘Are you watching that?’ he asked, not waiting for her to answer.

Maggie passed him the remote control. There was nothing on. ‘Not really.’

‘Goodo.’ He took the gadget and flicked it to a sport channel. ‘Country versus city,’ he said to her. ‘I missed it this afternoon.’

‘You can take the boy out of the country, hey?’

He grinned at her. ‘Something like that.’

Maggie sipped her cup of tea for a few minutes while Nash watched the television. The silence between them was unsettling. Not that he looked unsettled but she sure as hell felt it. It was too...intimate.

‘So where exactly is home?’ she asked.

‘Far western New South Wales. The family owns a couple of hundred thousand acres.’

‘You’re a long way from your roots. I thought country boys hated the city?’

Nash hooted. ‘Are you kidding? I love the city. I may be a country boy at heart but I feel like a kid in a lolly shop here. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting down and dirty and dusty...’ Nash waggled his brows, a smile hovering on his mouth as she rolled her eyes. ‘But I love the theatre and the shopping and the night life.’

Maggie swallowed a snort. She just bet he liked the night life. She just bet he fitted right in and the girls in the clubs drooled over his strange mix of metro-sexual hottie and country-boy charm.

He was going to adore London. London was certainly going to adore him.

‘So you’re converted?’

‘It’ll do for now.’

‘Ah. Your great career plans? Your path? Tell me about it.’ This was good, they were chatting. Like two normal, reasonable adults. No vibe, just polite small talk.

Nash shrugged. ‘Become the best damn paediatrician in Australia and then take myself back home. The bush is notoriously under resourced and underfunded. I want to start up a flying Paed service.’

Maggie shouldn’t have been surprised by that, given the stuff he’d talked about yesterday during his interview. His childhood promise to his sister.

But she was.

She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d said he was going to drop out of medicine and become an exotic dancer.

When he’d talked about being married to his career the other day and finding out about London tonight, she’d assumed it was for some hotshot, high-profile calling. To discover he was staying true to his boyhood promise was stunning.

Nash Reece, the charming flirt who’d made it clear he wanted her, had been pretty irresistible. Nash Reece, honourable doctor with a selfless purpose born from his sister’s illness, was completely irresistible. She’d caught a glimpse of this man yesterday in the studio.

And she was looking at the rest of him now.

‘Your sister must be very proud of you,’ she murmured.

shrugged. ‘I’m sure she would be if she was alive.’

Maggie stilled as a sense of dread washed over her, Nash’s features now shuttered. ‘Oh, Nash. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ he dismissed. ‘She had leukaemia. I was eight. She was ten. It was a long time ago.’

‘I’m sorry, I just assumed yesterday...you didn’t say,’ she ended lamely.

‘I didn’t think it was appropriate to broadcast my sister’s death on a kid’s radio show in a children’s hospital.’

‘No,’ she murmured. ‘I suppose not.’

Nash was silent for a moment as the overwhelming rawness of that time came back to him. He didn’t often talk about Tammy. Maybe the interview yesterday had sparked the memories again but he found himself wanting to tell Maggie about it.

‘She died in the city because there weren’t the appropriate support services at home to help with palliative care. Having to make long trips into Sydney was a drain on our family life and my parent’s finances. Being separated from Tammy a lot of the time was really, really