Sapphire Cove didn’t have ‘class’, Ryan acknowledged, and it was one of the things he remembered about Australia with affection. The Abbeys of the town, the poor, the immigrants, the local Koori kids whose parents thought houses were a waste of time-and Celia Henry’s son-were all treated exactly the same by the locals. And, despite what Celia thought, Abbey had definitely regarded herself as the equal of Ryan. Or better.

‘If you’re going to be a world-famous doctor then so am I,’ she’d declared, puffing out her eleven-year-old chest and snapping imaginary braces. ‘I’m just as good as you, Ryan Henry, even if my mum does think your mum’s snooty.’

Abbey’s mother had house-cleaned for Celia Henry and, for a while, Abbey had followed Ryan around like a devoted little shadow. That was, until Celia had put an end to it for ever by moving Ryan away.

And all Ryan remembered of Abbey were her eyes. Her fabulous eyes…

Vivid blue. Direct. Honest. And clear as two big pools of water from the sapphire ocean.

Gorgeous!

They’d changed, though.

Ryan had assessed the slim girl lying on the road as being twenty or so. Well, if his figuring was right Abbey had to be more like twenty-seven or -eight now. And her eyes told him he was right, even if his arithmetic couldn’t. Abbey’s eyes were lined-creased from accustomed laughter. And from something else. Suffering?

‘Well, I never…’ Abbey managed, staring up at the man kneeling over her. ‘It’s Ryan Henry…’

It was a pain-filled whisper and it brought Ryan up with a jolt. She’d recognised him, too-but, damn, he was a doctor and she was injured.

‘Hey, Abbey…’ He touched her curls again and they were warm and soft to touch. ‘Yeah, it’s Ryan. But let’s see what the damage is.’

‘You were driving too fast.’