From Fling to Forever Read online

  What started as a fling…

  When fate conspires repeatedly to throw together kindhearted nurse Ella Reynolds and deliciously sexy documentary filmmaker Aaron James, it’s not long before this unlikely couple finally gives in to their irresistible chemistry. Their hearts might be locked away, but what does it matter when it’s only a fling…?

  …could lead to forever!

  Spending time and saving lives together is bound to break down barriers. Yet with so much heartbreak and loss to overcome, can their fling ever lead to forever?

  “Why are you waiting up for me?” she asked.

  He had no answer.

  She sighed again—an exaggerated, world-weary sigh. “What do you want, Aaron?”

  “I want you,” he said. He couldn’t quite believe he’d said it, after everything that had gone on between them, but once it was out it seemed so easy. So clear. As though he hadn’t spent agonizing weeks telling himself she was the last thing he needed in his life. “I haven’t stopped wanting you. Not for a second.”

  Her eyebrows arched upward. Even her eyebrows were sexy.

  “I think we’ve been through this already, haven’t we?” she asked softly, and started to move past him. “One week—I’m sure you can resist me for that long, Sir Galahad.”

  His hand shot out. He saw it move, faster than his brain was working. Watched his fingers grip her upper arm.

  She turned to face him.

  He didn’t know what he intended to do next—but at least she wasn’t looking amused anymore.

  She looked hard at him for a moment. And then she took his face between her hands and kissed him, fusing her mouth to his with forceful passion. She pulled back a tiny fraction, then seemed to change her mind and kissed him again. Pulled back. Stepped back. Looked him in the eye.

  “Now what?” she asked, her breathing unsteady but her voice controlled. “This is where you run away, isn’t it?”

  That strange other being still had control of him. It was the only explanation for the way he jerked her close, crushed his arms around her and kissed her. “Come upstairs,” he breathed against her mouth. “Come with me.”

  “All yours,” Ella said.

  He grabbed her hand and walked quickly to the staircase, pulling her up it at a furious pace.

  “Which way to your room?” he asked.

  Silently, she guided him to it.

  The room next to his.

  Fate.

  Dear Reader,

  As a die-hard romantic, I like the idea of a love so strong it feels as if it’s written in the stars. And that’s a concept I’ve enjoyed exploring in From Fling to Forever.

  Aaron and Ella have known enough heartbreak to have them setting very specific life paths for themselves. But when they meet at a wedding in Australia, those paths are destined for the scrap heap—they just don’t know it yet.

  It takes a second encounter—in Cambodia—to ignite a scorching but unwanted passion between them as they work side by side at a children’s hospital.

  And a third—in England—for them to realize that the passion isn’t going away, so they’d better get it out of their systems with a quick, hard fling before sailing into their separate futures.

  But it seems fate isn’t so crazy about the “fling” part.

  I hope you enjoy the ride as Ella and Aaron face some tense situations and the occasional emergency as they reset their life paths from fling to forever.

  Avril Tremayne

  FROM FLING TO FOREVER

  Avril Tremayne

  Recent titles by Avril Tremayne:

  Harlequin® KISS™

  HERE COMES THE BRIDESMAID

  TURNING THE GOOD GIRL BAD

  These books are also available in ebook format from www.Harlequin.com

  FROM FLING TO FOREVER

  is Avril Tremayne’s debut book for Harlequin® Medical Romance™!

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my fellow writer PTG Man and Dr. John Sammut with many, many thanks for the generous medical advice. Thanks also to Dr. John Lander and Dr. Hynek Prochazka. Any errors that snuck in despite their best efforts are mine, all mine!

  I would also like to acknowledge the amazing Angkor Hospital for Children (AHC)—a nonprofit pediatric teaching hospital that provides free quality care to impoverished children in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

  All the characters, settings and situations in From Fling to Forever are fictional—however, during the course of my research, I learned so much from AHC, which has provided over one million medical treatments, education to thousands of Cambodian health workers and prevention training to thousands of families since it opened in 1999. You can find out more about the hospital at www.angkorhospital.org.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  WEDDINGS.

  Ella Reynolds had nothing against them, but she certainly didn’t belong at one. Not even this one.

  But her sister, Tina, had insisted she not only attend but trick herself out as maid of honour in this damned uncomfortable satin gown in which there was no stretch. Add in the ridiculous high heels and hair twisted into a silly bun that was pinned so tightly against her scalp she could practically feel the headache negotiating where to lunge first.

  And then there was the stalker. Just to top everything off.

  She’d first felt his stare boring into her as she’d glided up the aisle ahead of her sister. And then throughout the wedding service, when all eyes should have been on the bride and groom. And ever since she’d walked into the reception.

  Disconcerting. And definitely unwanted.

  Especially since he had a little boy with him. Gorgeous, sparkly, darling little boy. Asian. Three or four years old. Exactly the type of child to mess with her already messed-up head.

  Ella looked into her empty champagne glass, debating whether to slide over the legal limit. Not that she was driving, but she was always so careful when she was with her family. Still... Tina, pregnant, glowing, deliriously happy, was on the dance floor with her new husband Brand—and not paying her any attention. Her parents were on the other side of the room, catching up with Brand’s family on this rare visit to Sydney—and not paying her any attention. She was alone at the bridal table, with no one paying her any attention. Which was just fine with her. It was much easier to hold it all together when you were left to yourself. To not let anyone see the horrible, unworthy envy of Tina’s pregnancy, Tina’s life.

  And—she swivelled around to look for a waiter—it made it much easier to snag that extra champagne.

  But a sound put paid to the champagne quest. A cleared throat.

  She twisted back in her chair. Looked up.

  The stalker. Uh-oh.

  ‘Hi,’ he said.

  ‘Hello.’ Warily.

  ‘So...you’re Ella,’ he said.

  Oh, dear. Inane
stalker. ‘Yep. Sister of the bride.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looked surprised. And then, ‘Sorry, the accent. I didn’t realise...’

  ‘I speak American, Tina speaks Australian. It does throw people. Comes of having a parent from each country and getting to choose where you live. I live in LA. Tina lives in Sydney. But it’s still all English, you know.’ Good Lord—this was conversation?

  He laughed. ‘I’m not sure the British see it that way.’

  Okay—so now what? Ella wondered.

  If he thought she was going to be charmed by him, he had another think coming. She wasn’t going to be charmed. And she was not in the market for a pick-up tonight. Not that he wasn’t attractive in a rough sort of way—the surfer-blond hair, golden tan and bursting muscles that looked completely out of place in a suit was a sexy combination. But she’d crossed the pick-up off her to-do list last night—and that had been a debacle, as usual. And even if she hadn’t crossed it off the list, and it hadn’t been a debacle, her sister’s wedding was not the place for another attempt. Nowhere within a thousand miles of any of her relatives was the place.

  ‘Do you mind if I sit and talk to you for a few minutes?’ he asked, and smiled at her.

  Yes, I do. ‘Of course you can sit,’ she said. Infinitesimal pause. ‘And talk to me.’

  ‘Great.’ He pulled out a chair and sat. ‘I think Brand warned you I wanted to pick your brains tonight.’

  She frowned slightly. ‘Brand?’

  He smiled again. ‘Um...your brother-in-law?’

  ‘No-o-o, I don’t think so.’ Ella glanced over at Brand, who was carefully twirling her sister. ‘I think he’s had a few things on his mind. Marriage. Baby. Imminent move to London. New movie to make.’

  Another smile. ‘Right, let’s start again and I’ll introduce myself properly.’

  Ella had to give the guy points for determination. Because he had to realise by now that if she really wanted to talk to him, she would have already tried to get his name out of him.

  ‘I’m Aaron James,’ he said.

  Ella went blank for a moment, before the vague memory surfaced. ‘Oh. Of course. The actor. Tina emailed me about a...a film?’ She frowned slightly. ‘Sorry, I remember now. About malaria.’

  ‘Yes. A documentary. About the global struggle to eradicate the disease. Something I am very passionate about, because my son... Well, too much information, I guess. Not that documentaries are my usual line of work.’ Smile, but looking a little frayed. ‘Maybe you’ve heard of a television show called Triage? It’s a medical drama. I’m in that.’

  ‘So...’ She frowned again. ‘Is it the documentary or the TV show you want to talk to me about? If it’s the TV show, I don’t think I can help you—my experience in city hospital emergency rooms is limited. And I’m a nurse—you don’t look like you’d be playing a nurse. You’re playing a doctor, right?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘I’m flying home tomorrow, but I know a few doctors here in Sydney and I’m sure they’d be happy to talk to you.’

  ‘No, that’s not—’

  ‘The numbers are in my phone,’ Ella said, reaching for her purse. ‘Do you have a pen? Or can you—?’

  Aaron reached out and put his hand over hers on the tiny bronze purse. ‘Ella.’

  Her fingers flexed, once, before she could stop them.

  ‘It’s not about the show,’ he said, releasing her hand. ‘It’s the documentary. We’re looking at treatments, mosquito control measures, drug resistance, and what’s being done to develop a vaccine. We’ll be shooting in Cambodia primarily—in some of the hospitals where I believe you’ve worked. We’re not starting for a month, but I thought I should take the chance to talk to you while you’re in Sydney. I’d love to get your impression of the place.’

  She said nothing. Noted that he was starting to look impatient—and annoyed.

  ‘Brand told me you worked for Frontline Medical Aid,’ he prompted.

  She controlled the hitch in her breath. ‘Yes, I’ve worked for them, and other medical aid agencies, in various countries, including Cambodia. But I’m not working with any agency at the moment. And I’ll be based in Los Angeles for the next year or so.’

  ‘And what’s it like? I mean, not Los Angeles—I know what— Um. I mean, the aid work.’

  Ella shifted in her seat. He was just not getting it. ‘It has its highs and lows. Like any job.’

  He was trying that charming smile again. ‘Stupid question?’

  ‘Look, it’s just a job,’ she said shortly. ‘I do what every nurse does. Look after people when they’re sick or hurt. Try to educate them about health. That’s all there is to it.’

  ‘Come on—you’re doing a little more than that. The conditions. The diseases that we just don’t see here. The refugee camps. The landmines. Kidnappings, even.’

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. Bang-bang-bang. She looked down at her hands, saw the whitened knuckles and dropped them to her lap, out of Aaron’s sight. She struggled for a moment, getting herself under control. Then forced herself to look straight back up and right at him.

  ‘Yes, the conditions are not what most medical personnel are used to,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I’ve seen the damage landmines can do. Had children with AIDS, with malnutrition, die in my arms. There have been kidnappings involving my colleagues, murders even. This is rare, but...’ She stopped, raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that the sort of detail you’re looking for?’ She forced herself to keep looking directly into his eyes. ‘But I imagine you’ll be insulated from the worst of it. They won’t let anything happen to you.’

  ‘I’m not worried about that,’ Aaron said, with a quick shake of his head. Then, suddenly, he relaxed back in his chair. ‘And you don’t want to talk about it.’

  Eureka! ‘It’s fine, really,’ she said, but her voice dripped with insincerity.

  The little boy Ella had seen earlier exploded onto the scene, throwing himself against Aaron’s leg, before the conversation could proceed.

  ‘Dad, look what Tina gave me.’

  Dad. So, did he have an Asian wife? Or was the little boy adopted?

  Aaron bent close to smell the small rose being offered to him.

  ‘It’s from her bunch of flowers,’ the little boy said, blinking adorably.

  ‘Beautiful.’ Aaron turned laughing eyes to Ella. ‘Ella, let me introduce my son, Kiri. Kiri, this is Tina’s sister, Ella.’

  Kiri. He was Cambodian, then. And he’d had malaria—that was Aaron’s TMI moment. ‘Nice to meet you, Kiri,’ Ella said with a broad smile, then picked up her purse. ‘Speaking of Tina and flowers, it must be time to throw the bouquet. I’d better go.’

  She got to her feet. ‘Goodbye, Aaron. Good luck with the documentary. Goodbye, Kiri.’

  * * *

  Well, that had been uncomfortable, Ella thought as she left the table, forcing herself to walk slowly. Calm, controlled, measured—the way she’d trained herself to walk in moments of stress.

  Clearly, she had to start reading her sister’s emails more carefully. She recalled, too late, that Tina’s email had said Aaron was divorced; that he had an adopted son—although not that the boy was Cambodian, because that she would have remembered. She’d made a reference to the documentary. And there probably had been a mention of talking to him as a favour to Brand, although she really couldn’t swear to it.

  She just hadn’t put all the pieces together and equated them with the wedding, or she would have been better prepared for the confrontation.

  Confrontation. Since when did a few innocent questions constitute a confrontation?

  Ella couldn’t stop a little squirm of shame. Aaron wasn’t to know that the exact thing he wanted to talk about was the exact thing she couldn’t bring herself to discuss with anyone. Nobo
dy knew about Sann, the beautiful little Cambodian boy who’d died of malaria before she’d even been able to start the adoption process. Nobody knew about her relationship with Javier—her colleague and lover, kidnapped in Somalia and still missing. Nobody knew because she hadn’t wanted anyone to know, or to worry about her. Hadn’t wanted anyone to push her to talk about things, relive what she couldn’t bear to relive.

  So, no, Aaron wasn’t to be blamed for asking what he thought were standard questions.

  But he’d clearly sensed something was wrong with her. Because he’d gone from admiration—oh, yes, she could read admiration—to something akin to dislike, in almost record time. Something in those almost sleepy, silver-grey eyes had told her she just wasn’t his kind of person.

  Ella’s head had started to throb. The damned pins.

  Ah, well, one bouquet-toss and last group hug with her family and she could disappear. Back to her hotel. Throw down some aspirin. And raid the mini-bar, given she never had got that extra glass of champagne.

  Yeah, like raiding the mini-bar has ever helped, her subconscious chimed in.

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ she muttered.

  * * *

  Well, that had been uncomfortable, Aaron thought as Ella Reynolds all but bolted from the table. Actually, she’d been walking slowly. Too slowly. Unnaturally slowly.

  Or maybe he was just cross because of ego-dent. Because one woman in the room had no idea who he was. And didn’t care who he was when she’d found out. Well, she was American—why would she know him? He wasn’t a star over there.

  Which wasn’t the point anyway.

  Because since when did he expect people to recognise him and drool?

  Never!

  But celebrity aside, to be looked at with such blank disinterest...it wasn’t a look he was used to from women. Ella Reynolds hadn’t been overwhelmed. Or deliberately underwhelmed, as sometimes happened. She was just...hmm, was ‘whelmed’ a word? Whelmed. Depressing.

  Ego, Aaron—so not like you.

  Aaron swallowed a sigh as the guests started positioning themselves for the great bouquet toss. Ella was in the thick of it, smiling. Not looking in his direction—on purpose, or he’d eat the roses.