There was a moment when he turned his dark head towards Jo and smiled. A smile that was wry, slightly lopsided, and was gone in a blink.
The fact that it sent slivers of warmth to every corner of her body was immaterial. Jo dipped her head, convinced her cheeks were on fire and thanking heaven no one had noticed. Instead, all eyes were on the bride as she took her place beside her groom and slipped her hand into his.
* * *
‘Wasn’t it a lovely ceremony?’ Fliss sighed. ‘I think I’d like something just like that.’
‘Someone in mind?’ Jo said jokingly, as they trotted along on their higher than high heels up the street towards the restaurant where the reception was to be held.
‘Mind your own, Josephine.’
‘So there is!’ Jo dug her friend in the ribs. ‘You drama queen. Who is he?’
‘Daniel,’ Fliss said airily. ‘He’s a pilot.’
‘Well that makes a change. Why isn’t he with you?’
‘He’s overnighting to Perth or he would have been.’
‘Oh, well, that just leaves me unattached,’ Jo said philosophically.
Fliss sent her an arch look. ‘Plenty of eye candy amongst the guest list, babe. What about Brady McNeal?’
Jo felt heat scorch her cheeks. ‘Don’t be daft.’
‘According to the goss, he’s single.’ Fliss waggled well-shaped brows suggestively.
‘And I’ll be miles away from here by this time tomorrow,’ Jo pointed out in exasperation. ‘Get real.’
‘She who hesitates…’ Fliss trilled.
‘Oh, ha,’ Jo said in a bored voice. ‘Look, here we are.’ Grabbing Fliss by the elbow, she steered them off the street into the up-market restaurant.
* * *
Brady McNeal looked around him. The reception was in full swing, the hum of conversation filling the small, intimate restaurant. It had been a nice wedding and he’d enjoyed himself more than he’d expected to.
He hadn’t really known anyone except Ben. And Sophie he’d met only recently. But they’d managed to sort him out and he’d met most of their friends—except the cool-looking blonde he’d made eye contact with in the gardens.
When Sophie had dragged him over to their table to ‘meet the guys’ as she’d termed it, the blonde had been at another table, in a huddle with Sophie’s parents and with her back to him.
Well, what did it matter anyway? He was miles away from pursuing a new relationship. That possibility had gone out the window months ago. When Tanya had simply walked away from him.
Leaving him to pick up the pieces of the life they could have had together.
In his more fanciful moments, Brady likened the hurt she’d left behind to a thorn embedded so deeply it could never be removed. He could only hope that one day enough scar tissue would have formed over the hurt so that he barely felt it any more.
And maybe someday he’d find someone special to share his life with. And maybe not. Oh, hell, it was all too difficult, he thought, pulling back the sleeve of his white shirt to glance at his watch.
His mouth compressed slightly. Another couple of hours should see his official duties here ended and he could decently make his exit.
And next week he would begin a new phase of his life. The small rural town with its ring of blue mountains was calling him. He just hoped and prayed he’d made the right decision.
* * *
The newlyweds had left the reception and the farewells were still echoing in Jo’s head as she made her way swiftly along the city block to the parking station.
Some of the guests were going on to a nightclub and Fliss had tried to coax her along, but Jo had declined. She had to drive back to Mt Pryde early the next day to be ready for surgery on Monday.
Saturday night revellers spilled out of a pub, jostling each other, and Jo sidestepped quickly out of the way. After only a couple of nights in the city, she was longing for the relative tranquillity of her country lifestyle.
Crossing the street to where the deserted high-rise buildings lent a somewhat eerie feel to the atmosphere, Jo shivered slightly, taking a tighter grip on the strap of her little beaded shoulder-bag. It was then she became aware someone was following closely behind.
She quickened her steps, relieved to see the neon sign of the parking station up ahead. I don’t need this, she said silently, increasing her pace until she was almost running.
‘Hey!’ A deep voice rang out behind her. ‘It’s OK. I’m from Ben and Sophie’s wedding party—Brady McNeal.’
Spinning round Jo put her hand to her heart. ‘Oh—it is you.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’ Brady’s dark gaze homed in on her sudden pallor. ‘You OK?’
Jo managed a weak smile, feeling slightly foolish. ‘I will be now I know I’m not about to be mugged. We didn’t get to meet at the wedding,’ she added breathlessly, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Jo.’
‘Hi.’ Brady took her hand. ‘You’re the third doctor.’
Jo blinked. ‘Sorry?’
He grinned. ‘Sophie mentioned the gang of three. You, she and Fliss. You all trained together, didn’t you?’
‘Ah…yes. We’ve been friends for ages. And you’re a friend of Ben’s, I take it?’
He nodded. ‘We trained together, too.’
Jo gave a little laugh. ‘This is all a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?’
Brady’s smile was slow and a bit lopsided. ‘Perhaps we were destined to meet.’
Jo took a small step backwards, clasping the silk of her wrap more tightly across her chest. Was this a chat-up line? ‘Are you parked nearby?’ she countered awkwardly.
Well, he’d stuffed that up nicely. Brady had seen the sudden defensiveness hazing her green eyes. ‘I’m collecting my car from the parking station,’ he said briskly. ‘I imagine you’re on the same errand?’
‘Yes.’ Jo licked her lips, her heart thumping and pattering. They began walking again. ‘Are you just in town for the wedding?’ she asked conversationally.
‘My movements are a bit fluid at the moment.’
Well, that seemed to be that. Jo scrabbled in her purse for her parking receipt. ‘I’m on the third floor,’ she said, assuming they would say their goodbyes.
‘Me, too.’ Brady summoned the lift and waited for her to get in.
In the few seconds while the lift groaned its way upwards, the silence was awkward. Keeping her gaze carefully averted, Jo took a sneaky look at Brady McNeal as he hooked his suit jacket over his shoulder and slouched against the opposite wall of the lift. Nice eyes, she thought, and cheekbones to die for, and the snug fit of his suit trousers indicated a pair of long, muscular legs. She was still fanatisising when the lift jerked to a stop.
‘I’ll walk with you to your car.’ He took her elbow firmly as they vacated the lift. ‘These places are spooky at the best of times.’
And she was parked at the very end of a long, long row of vehicles. ‘Perhaps we should have both taken cabs in the first place,’ she suggested on a laugh made brittle by a flood of nerves when his guiding hand on her elbow slid down