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activities while the men bought him countless drinks, no doubt.
    Doc climbed the remaining steps and pulled Paul’s bloodstained shirtfront to the side. “Helen did a fine job putting you back together, I’d wager. I’d like to have a look at the stitches, mind you, just to be sure.”
    He proceeded into the office while Paul followed. “Where did you find an American doc in the bush?”
    “Her father is an old friend of mine. She wanted to practice somewhere adventurous, apparently, so he wrote to me and here she is.”
    “I assume you’re talking about me?” Helen strode into the room, the narrow line of her skirt swaying with the movement of her wide, lush hips.
    “Correct as always, dear Helen,” replied Doc, while he washed his hands in the same basin the woman had used the night before. “Paul, climb up on that table so I can take a look at her work, will you?”
    Paul complied, the ache in his head giving way to an equally painful ache in his groin.

    Helen tried to concentrate on anything other than Paul’s half-naked form sitting easily on the table. Something about the way he held himself made her think he’d be at ease anywhere, doing anything. She’d watched him sleeping in the parlor for longer than she should have, as well. She’d told herself it had been to gauge his breathing. To make certain he was all right. He was her patient, after all. But she knew differently. In that part of her that she’d been unable to control in her old life, she found something erotically fascinating about him.
    And now he leveled an appreciative stare in her direction. She felt his eyes move over her from the tips of her bobbed hair to the soles of her shoes. Everywhere his eyes touched, she burned.
    She closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she focused all of her attention on Dr. Mallory—the man who had been gracious enough to save her from herself when she’d so desperately needed it. That’s what she should be concentrating on. Making Dr. Mallory proud of her. Being the best doctor she could possibly be. Bringing medicine to those who needed it.
    The last thing
she
needed was to concern herself with the gentle slope of a man’s pectoral muscles, or the way the light danced in his hair through the window. She’d been right. His hair was dark blond, with tiny golden highlights that winked at her.
    Enough!
    “This looks splendid, Helen. You’ve done a magnificent job. Nice, clean stitches, evenly spaced. Your knots are very well done, indeed. I would have suggested a running suture given the length of the wound, and a few of the stitches appear a mite rushed, but all in all, I say a job well done. You’ll improve with practice, I’m sure.”
    “Th-thank you, Dr. Mallory.”
    “Your father said you were an excellent doctor, and he’d know, wouldn’t he?”
    “He did?”
    “Oh yes. Many times. He is ever proud of his only daughter.”
    Helen’s chest tightened. She could think of any number of adjectives to describe how her father felt about her.
Proud
hadn’t been one of them for quite some time.
    Dr. Mallory replaced the bandages on Paul’s shoulder and chest. “You did a fine job on that old croc, I’ll tell you. I’m late this morning because I wanted to see for myself. Your mates have her skinned and drying already. Croc boots for everyone, I’d say.”
    “Thanks, Doc. But I reckon my ego played more of a role than I would have liked. I wanted to shoot her, but then Tim and the boys started laying off odds on a sticking match, and well…”
    “You mean to say you risked your life fighting that crocodile on purpose?” Helen gasped.
    “Of course. A man can’t shy away from a challenge, now can he?”
    “That’s ridiculous! You could have been killed.”
    “I wasn’t.”
    “But you could have been,” she argued. “I have spent the greater part of my life fighting to save lives, Mr.
    Campbell. I began helping my father when I was twelve years old, for heaven’s sake. I can’t