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'Do you think he will?'

Imogen shrugged. 'Depends if his past catches up with him. It's happened to others before.'

Elizabeth thought over what the sister had said as Mitch came out of the ward, giving a thumbs-up to the boys.

'Turn a blind eye tomorrow morning, Imogen,' he remarked as he scribbled something on the boys' hospital casenotes.

'Will do. Just don't do your commando routine and come in through the window. Sneak in, by all means, but last time you made such a mess.'

Mitch laughed. 'No window entries, I promise, but I'm not too sure about the commando routine.'

Imogen joined in the laughter. 'All right. You'd both better get over to the community health centre. Your clinics are about to start. Teena and Ryan are already over there.'

'Thanks. See you later,' he called, and headed up the corridor. Elizabeth followed behind, irritated that she needed him to show her around. It made her feel like a helpless puppy...and Mitch her master. She felt that tingle zing through her again and quickly pushed the thought from her mind.

'The clinic shouldn't take too long this morning, not with both of us doing it. Then I'll take you over to the private practice rooms—which are in the next street—for the clinic there.'

'All right.'

He showed her to her consulting room and she was delighted to find Ryan was going to help her out. 'Mitch said he'd prefer if you were with me rather than Teena because some of your male patients might step out of line.'

Elizabeth was mildly surprised. She'd dealt with troublesome male patients before but from what she'd seen in the pub the other night, she thought it best to keep quiet and perhaps do things Mitch's way for the time being. After all, he was the expert when it came to dealing with patients here.

'All right.' She pulled on a white coat which was hanging up behind the door. 'Let's get started.'

The first two patients were twins coming in for Meningococcal C vaccinations. The girls were four years old and both played happily together while Elizabeth gave them a check-up before administering their needles.

'Are they always this placid?' she asked their mother.

'Yes. They were born as conjoined twins and underwent quite a few operations earlier on in life. That was when we lived in Sydney, of course, and then after everything was all right, we were still being hounded by the press. I couldn't go shopping without having my photo taken. So my husband and I decided to move. We'd come through Coober Pedy before we'd had the girls and always loved the area—my husband likes to paint,' she explained. 'We talked about it and...' She shrugged. 'It seemed like a good choice.'

'How lovely. And you're happy here?'

'Oh, yes. The girls aren't seen as freaks or celebrities— they're just two little girls who are twins.'

'That must be comforting for you.' Elizabeth smiled, looking at the two girls who were doing a handclap rhythm and singing a rhyme.

Her next few patients were prescription repeats yet all of them smiled and looked at her with interest. She guessed she was somewhat of a novelty and hoped it would wear off soon.

'Who's next?' she asked Ryan as she glanced at the clinic list.

'Jos Wilmont. He's harmless but can get quite worked up when he doesn't get his own way. He's been regularly attending the drug and alcohol clinic but, as you'll see from his notes, he suffers from attention deficit disorder and will probably just need a prescription repeat for his meds.'

Elizabeth glanced down at the notes on Mr Wilmont. Mitch's now familiar handwriting, which she could only describe as an indecipherable scrawl, stated that at the last review Jos Wilmont hadn't been taking his meds regularly and had been in quite a few fights, as well as being fired from his job. Mitch had spoken to Mr Wilmont's supervisor and had explained that if the medication was taken properly, Mr Wilmont shouldn't have a problem. Under these conditions, Mr Wilmont was given his job back.

Elizabeth looked up for a moment, then looked back at the notes. Had she read that wrong? No. 'Excuse me, Ryan. It says here that Mr Wilmont was given his job back on the condition he takes his medication properly.'

'Yes.'

'Did Mitch do this?'

'Of course.' Ryan frowned a little. 'Mitch went out and spoke to the supervisor, explaining the situation. Wil was ever so grateful to the doc, and for the past two weeks he's been taking his medication regularly and attending the drug and alcohol clinics, as I mentioned before.'

'Mitch went out to speak to the supervisor?' Elizabeth was surprised. 'Does he always do things like that for his patients?'

'Sure. He's that type of guy. Wil would have slumped down into a pit of depression and that would have been worse to deal with and Mitch knew it. He got Steve-o, he's a police officer—'

Elizabeth nodded. 'So I've heard.'

'Involved and together they sat down with the supervisor, explained the situation and worked out a compromise. Wil's on light duties for a month until he can prove he's back on track and showing he's responsible with his meds, and the supervisor, Mitch and Steve-o keep in close contact to ensure everything's happening according to plan. Why? What's wrong with it?'

'Oh...er...nothing. I'm merely surprised that he would go to such lengths to help Mr Wilmont out.'

Ryan shrugged. 'It's just the kind of guy Mitch is. Don't you guys back in England help your patients?'

Elizabeth smiled. 'Large London hospitals don't usually operate in that way, no. Pity, though.' She glanced down at the notes, her opinion of Mitchell O'Neill rising considerably. 'Well, let's see how Mr Wilmont is today, then.'

Elizabeth was pleased to discover Mr Wilmont had indeed been taking his medication and was coping well. He sang Mitch's praises and was proud to announce his supervisor was rostering him on for extra hours, starting the following week.

'I'll be sure to pass that information on to Dr O'Neill,' she said with a warm smile. Mr Wilmont might be grubby, dressed in old mining clothes and missing a few teeth, but he was a man trying to get control of his life and she applauded him for it. Wasn't that what she herself was trying to do?

When the last patient had been seen, Elizabeth wrote up the notes and placed them on top of the large pile on her desk.

'Whew!'

'It was a busy one today,' Ryan said. 'I think people are curious to see what Maude's English daughter is like. You'll no doubt get the same this afternoon at the private practice.'

'Hip, hip, hoorah,' Elizabeth said drolly, and Ryan chuckled.

Mitch came and stood in the doorway. 'How'd you survive, Lizzie?'

'Fine.' Elizabeth glared at him but he merely grinned and stretched his arms above his head, pressing on the doorframe, his biceps flexing beneath his cotton shirt. For a moment Elizabeth felt like a kangaroo caught in the headlights of a car—mesmerised and completely unable to move. The man certainly had a body on him, as she'd realised the other night at the pub, but did he have to flaunt it like this?

He was talking to Ryan as he continued stretching and Elizabeth took the opportunity to sneak glances at him, admiring his physique. He appeared to be muscle all over and although he'd finished stretching, he kept his hands hooked around the top of the old wooden doorframe. She sighed, slowly exhaling as she flicked her gaze up once more to look at him.

This time, though, her gaze clashed with his and she quickly looked away. She could feel him smiling even though she flatly refused to look at him again.

'Ready to go, Lizzie?'

She shuffled some papers around on her desk and stood, looking at Ryan. 'Do you just want me to leave those things here?'

'It's fine. I'll take care of it. Get going or you'll be running late all afternoon.'

'All right. Thank you.' She smiled sweetly at Ryan before turning to Mitch. 'I guess I'm ready, then.'

'Your chariot awaits.' With a sweeping gesture of gallantry, he waited for her to pass him. Elizabeth held her breath, determined not to breathe in his hypnotic scent again, and she made sure there was no way their bodies touched. She headed off towards the hospital, Mitch walking half a pace behind her.

'So clinic was good?'

'Yes. Mr Wilmont wanted me to pass on that his supervisor is increasing his hours next week.'

'Good ol' Wil. Knew he'd come through.'

'Also, Ryan warned me I might get some...shady characters in clinic, but everyone I saw today was quite, amiable.' Mitch grinned and nodded but he didn't say anything else. 'How was
your
clinic?'

'The type that gives headaches.'

'You
gave
me all the sedate patients, didn't you.' she stated.

Mitch merely shrugged. 'It was the least I could do for your first day here.' He patted his trouser pockets and then stopped short. 'Keys. Can't find my keys. Imogen?' He walked down towards the nurses' station. 'Are my keys here?'

'No.' Imogen looked around on her very clean, very tidy desk. 'Sorry. I haven't seen them.'

Elizabeth retrieved her handbag from the
locked
drawer where Imogen had put it earlier and stood waiting.

'Never mind. I've probably left them in the ute. We're off to the rooms.'

'All right. See you tomorrow. Bye, Elizabeth. Hope you survive the rest of the day.'

Elizabeth smiled. 'So do I.'

Mitch had gone out the door and Elizabeth followed him once more. Outside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright light and quickly found her sunglasses and put them on. She turned to look for Mitch but all she could see were a pair of legs sticking out of an open ute door. He was obviously looking for his keys.

'How did you unlock the door?' she asked as she walked over, giving his vehicle a distasteful glance. Its original colour appeared to have been white but it was now a kind of dirty orange all over, except for the lower part of the panels and doors which were just a brownish-red, covered with dust.

'Wasn't locked. No real need out here,' he called as he shoved his hand beneath the driver's seat. 'Nope.' He stood, hitting his head on the door as he straightened. 'Ow.' Mitch rubbed his head, feeling like a buffoon. Way to go, O'Neill. You really know how to impress a girl. He smiled at his thoughts and looked at Elizabeth. She was dressed in navy trousers, which covered up her fine long legs, and a rose-pink shirt. Definitely an English rose in the harsh Australian climate. Would she wither and die out here or would she thrive once her roots were firmly in the soil?

'Anyway, if you want to go around and get in, I'll get us going.' Without waiting for her to move, Mitch leaned in under the steering-wheel and, much to Elizabeth's total amazement, hot-wired the ute. He turned. 'Aren't you getting in?'

'How did you do that?'

'I often lose my keys so instead of pulling the wires out to hot-wire the ute, thereby leaving a mess, I've added a few extra wires to make it easier.' He pointed to them. 'You just put those two together and,
vroom, vroom,
engine started.'

Elizabeth couldn't help but be impressed as she walked around to the passenger side and tried to open the door—but it stuck.

'You have to kind of lift and pull at the same time,' Mitch said as he climbed in and leaned over to open the door from the inside. 'Takes some getting use to,' he remarked when the door was open.

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether to just sit on the seat or dust it off first,
and was
thankful she hadn't worn white trousers today. She started to pull her seat belt on but Mitch had already started driving.

He opened his mouth to say something but as he breathed in, the scent of her perfume wound itself around him. It wasn't overpowering and it didn't smell expensive, but the subtle fragrance in the cab of his utility truck was almost hypnotic. Amongst the heat and dust, she still managed to smell as fresh as a daisy and he wondered if he'd get used to the scent or whether it would continue to drive him to distraction during the next six months.

Elizabeth finally managed to get her seat belt clicked into place just as Mitch brought the ute to a stop. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.' He gestured to the building beside them. 'We're here.'

'We could have walked.'

'Sure, but then we'd have been covered in flies by the time we arrived.'

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with merriment. 'Good point.'

'And, do you know, that's the first real smile you've given me since we met.'

The smile dimmed and she raised her eyebrows. 'Is it any wonder when you constantly call me Lizzie?'

'You don't like Lizzie?'

Elizabeth shook her head. 'Don't play the fool, Mitch. You know I don't like it yet you keep on doing it. Just to rile me.'

He grinned and she hardened her heart. 'Yes.'

'So there's your answer.' Elizabeth opened the door and climbed out into the afternoon sunshine. The building in front of her had a big sign out front declaring it to be the private medical practice of Dr Mitchell O'Neill, M.B., B.S., F.R.A.C.G.P., so this time she had no need to wait to follow him.

Mitch
wasn't at all bothered by her pompous attitude. She'd called him by his first name so he knew he was definitely making progress. 'Yahoo!' he said softly to himself as he entered the clinic.

'Good afternoon, Daphne.' He greeted the young receptionist. 'This is Dr Elizabeth Blakeny-Smith. Quite a mouthful, I know, but we'll just have to do the best we can.'

'Call me Elizabeth,' Elizabeth said, shaking her head at her comedic colleague. The phone rang and Daphne answered it.

'It's for you, Mitch. That specialist from Adelaide you were waiting to hear from.'

'Good. Put it through to my consulting room.' He headed off and then turned to Elizabeth. 'Sorry but I have to take this call. Daphne will show you where everything is.' With that, he disappeared behind a door.

Daphne explained where the small kitchenette and bathroom were. The patient files were shelved neatly behind the receptionist's desk and the drug cupboard was located between the two consulting rooms.