Recovery (The Recovery Series, #1)

By JC Harroway

'This debut novel by JC Harroway is oh-so-yummy! The ultimate guilty pleasure. The perfect combination of sexy and funny.' Goodreads Review

She can't help but want him. But neither can his millions of fans.

With fame, fortune, looks and charisma, Nathan Banks may have it all. But Dr Sophia King wants nothing to do with him beyond treating him as any other patient.

A family scandal and a childhood of media intrusion have left the reserved doctor fiercely protective of her vulnerable family. But when a photo of Sophia and Nathan together strips away her anonymity and exposes past secrets, she must step into the limelight to protect her loved ones.

Intrigued by the man behind his famous persona, Sophia glimpses a life of fame and glamour she's never coveted. But Nathan comes with baggage, and the screaming fans, the beautiful leading ladies and ruthless paparazzi are all part of the deal.

How much is Sophia willing to endure to be with the man she loves, and how much is Nathan willing to give up for the woman who has stolen his heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781489217387

JC Harroway

Lifelong romance addict J.C. Harroway lives in New Zealand. Writing feeds her very real obsession with happy endings and the endorphin rush they create.You can follow her at www.jcharroway.com www.facebook.com/jcharroway, www.instagram.com/jcharroway and https://twitter.com/jcharroway

Book preview

Chapter One

‘GREAT. You’re here. It won’t stop bleeding.’ Nathan Banks looked up from the blood-splattered porcelain, his startling green gaze capturing mine in the mirror. I had a split second for my eyes to drink him in before I urged my feet towards my famous patient.

‘I’m Sophia King.’ My voice had a strangled quality that mocked the confident posture I wore in place of a white coat. I dumped my medical case on the marble vanity and pulled a pair of latex gloves from my pocket. ‘One of the doctors from the Queenstown Medical Centre.’ I snapped on the gloves and applied pressure to his towel-wrapped hand.

The intimacy of occupying his personal space unsettled me and when a crooked grin of relief lifted his mouth, I swallowed past a tight throat.

‘Nathan Banks,’ he said, jerking his chin in my direction. He blew a slow breath past pursed lips and his shoulders sank a little with the exhale.

I shelved my own nerves—I could do this. Yes, treating insanely attractive movie stars was new to me, but he was still just a patient, and I’d been summoned to this remote luxury lodge to do my job.

I gestured to the chair behind him. ‘Have a seat.’ I hoped I’d find a paper sheet inside the case of supplies. The bathroom was immaculate and I didn’t want to ruin any more of the fluffy white towels.

Nathan lowered his tall frame into the seat. ‘Thanks for coming out here to patch me up, Dr King. I really appreciate it.’ The husky baritone of his well-known voice delivered my name with a dose of gravel.

‘You’re welcome. Okay. Let’s see what we have…’ I lifted the towel and my fingers twitched on contact with the warmth of his skin, which seeped through the latex barrier between us.

The cut on the fleshy base of his right thumb would leave a scar. How pronounced depended solely on my suturing skills. Tingles fluttered in my chest with the knowledge he would forever carry a permanent mark that connected us in this moment of time. Whenever I saw him on the big screen in the future, I’d remember this chance meeting.

I retrieved some gauze from the case and covered the wound. ‘Press here.’

His strong fingers grazed mine as our hands swapped places. I cleared my throat and stole a furtive peek at him from downcast eyes. His dark blond hair was dishevelled, as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. His face sported a few days’ worth of stubble, and tiredness marred his vivid green eyes.

I ran a quick mental slide show of his press photos and movie stills. They didn’t do him justice. In person he was vibrant, charismatic, disarming—possessing the X-factor people talked about—that elusive allure that set someone apart in a crowd.

My boss, who’d described him as ‘some sort of celebrity’, either had an amusing flair for making understatements or wasn’t much of a movie watcher. Nathan Banks was the latest British actor to make it in Hollywood. His chiselled face and charming smile were everywhere—TV, movies, magazines and billboards. I’d read somewhere he was up for an Emmy nomination.

‘It’ll need a few stitches.’ I met his cool, assessing eyes, intimidation lowering my stare to flit over the well-worn jeans hugging his thighs and black V-necked T-shirt that clung to his well-defined torso. His feet were bare, elegant and seriously sexy. I swallowed, moistening my parched throat, struggling to keep my thoughts professional and within the realms of the doctor–patient relationship.

He nodded. ‘You’re the woman for the job, I’m reliably informed.’

He’d vetted me? ‘Oh? Who told you that?’ My smile was thin—poor cover for the discomfort I felt under his scrutiny.

‘Your boss, Dr Sargent. He speaks very highly of you.’ He arched an eyebrow, as if daring me to contradict.

I snagged a paper sheet from the case and placed it across his lap. ‘This will protect your clothing.’

‘Thank you.’

I turned back to my supplies with heated cheeks. ‘I’ll just get things set up.’ The idea of him discussing me with my boss raised the hairs on the back of my neck. My privacy was everything. I gathered the equipment I’d need, my body hot at the prospect of him studying me.

‘Will you be okay sitting there?’ I’d never be able to catch him if he fainted onto the unforgiving marble floor, and I’d seen bigger men than him go down when the needles came out. ‘Or would you prefer to lie down?’

The lodge, whilst spectacular and quintessentially New Zealand, was secluded and remote. Not the ideal place for a house call.

‘No, I’m good if this works for you?’ He gifted me another of his crooked smiles and straightened in the chair, a hint of challenge in his expression.

I moved a second chair from across the room and placed it in front of him before turning back to the basin. My reflection destroyed any illusions I had that I’d achieved cool, calm professionalism. My dark blonde hair hung in limp clumps from the jet boat ride I’d endured to get here and what little makeup I’d applied that morning was long gone, revealing dark smudges under my eyes. How did a twenty-four-year-old doctor who’d worked a ten-hour day compete with the sexy, artless perfection that was Nathan Banks?

I shook the ridiculous thoughts from my head with a violence that threatened a concussion. It didn’t matter how I looked. I was just here to do my job.

Simple.

‘So how did this happen?’ I arranged the items I’d need, the automatic actions allowing my brain time to get over being star-struck. I wasn’t the celebrity-fawning kind, but his proximity in this enclosed space was affecting my equilibrium, flooding my body with all sorts of silly hormones.

‘Well, I’d like to tell you it was something manly like a wood-chopping accident, but I simply had a run-in with a kitchen knife.’ With one eyebrow raised and a wry twist to his mouth, he chuckled.

This charming, playful smile quickly replaced his high-wattage Hollywood version as my favourite, and my nerve endings registered every ounce of his considerable appeal.

‘But the wood-chopping story will definitely be the one I tell people when they ask.’

I grinned. I wasn’t immune to his charms and I was a sucker for a self-deprecating sense of humour. It was such a British trait. It made me homesick.

‘Well, your secret is safe with me. But I’m surprised the lodge doesn’t have a chef?’

His intense stare settled on me for what felt like an age before he spoke, an edge to his voice. ‘I’m quite adept in the kitchen. Normally.’ He shrugged, glancing down at his damaged hand then raising challenging eyes back to mine.

‘I’m sure you are.’ Heat crept up my neck. ‘When was your last tetanus shot?’ I drew some lignocaine into a syringe, happy to have a focus other than his expressive eyes.

‘At least five years ago. I can check with my assistant if you need an exact date?’ He ran his good hand back and forth through his hair, ruffling the strands until they stood on end, as if he’d just rolled out of bed. On him, it worked.

I cleared my throat, steering my mind from Nathan Banks and bed occupying the same thought. ‘That’s okay. I’ll give you a shot to be on the safe side.’ I sat facing him, scooting my chair close. Air trapped in my lungs as I slotted one of my knees between his spread thighs, more careful than usual to avoid touching him. Despite my best intentions, I was drawn to him, and I couldn’t afford to be.

I focused on the work ahead and lifted the gauze from his hand. ‘Ready?’ My voice was a dry croak but I produced my reassuring bedside-manner smile.

He nodded, his attention fixed on my every move, raising my awareness of him to hand-trembling levels.

When I was happy the wound was clean, I picked up the syringe containing the local anaesthetic. ‘You’ll feel a sharp scratch and a little stinging, then it should start to go numb.’ I’d said those words hundreds of times, but this time they felt prickly and cumbersome, catching in my throat as they came out.

‘Do your worst.’ The tiny flash of his dimple might have gone unseen, it happened so quickly. But its effect on me was equally instantaneous, sending me from hot and bothered to dangerously hyperthermic.

Injection over, I picked up the forceps and curved needle, still nervous about his possible squeamishness. ‘So, is this your first visit to New Zealand?’ I didn’t want to pry into his personal life, but I usually made some conversation at this stage to make patients feel at ease, or at least distract them from what I was doing.

His direct gaze was back to mine, holding for longer than felt comfortable. ‘No. I was here a few years ago, working on another film.’ He nodded at the suture needle in my hand. ‘I’m fine. Continue.’

‘You don’t have to watch. Most people don’t.’ I wouldn’t think less of him if he needed to look away.

He shrugged, his mouth twitching and a spark of defiance gleaming in his eyes.

‘So, are you working here at the moment or is this a holiday?’ Since he’d raised the subject of his job, I no longer felt I was prying. Plus, my curiosity was piqued. New Zealand was a long way from Hollywood, and celebrities of his calibre were usually big news. News I seemed to have missed.

‘It’s a little of both. I’ve been filming on the North Island. Now I’m in Queenstown for a few days of R and R.’

The film industry here was buoyant and he wasn’t the first star to grace these beautiful shores. ‘Queenstown is stunning isn’t it?’ I had three more sutures to go—a little more polite chit-chat and I’d be done.

‘The whole country is stunning.’ His grin was genuine and again, heart-stopping.

‘Yes, you’re right.’ I inclined my head to the room’s expansive windows beyond the sunken bathtub, which offered uninterrupted views of the mountains. ‘Did you know the range is called The Remarkables?’

I loved the name, which evoked images of travel-weary settlers stumbling upon the vista for the first time and searching for a title that conveyed the majesty of the landscape.

‘No. I haven’t read that page of the travel guide.’ The fingers of his good hand tapped the arm of the chair.

‘What’s your film about?’

‘I could tell you, but then you’d have to come and work for me. My personal physician?’

My face must have conveyed my horror, because he laughed from his belly, tossing his head back. ‘It’s a drama. I play the dad of a young autistic boy who goes missing.’

I raised my eyebrows. This was a change for him. I wasn’t a follower of his films, but all the ones I recalled were romantic comedies. ‘That sounds interesting?’

‘Yes. I learned quite a lot about autism.’

I glanced away. ‘Okay, all done.’ I cut the last suture.

He lifted one brow, a speculative glint in his eyes. ‘I’ve hit a nerve?’

My eyes flew back to his. ‘No. I … I know quite a lot about autism myself. I might watch that movie when it comes out.’ I covered my workmanship with a dressing.

‘Personal knowledge?’

‘How do you know that?’ I pushed my chair back and stood.

He shrugged, following me to his feet. ‘I’m good at reading people.’

I sucked in a calming breath. I rarely revealed things to strangers, but I doubted he’d care and I would never see him again. I tilted my head back, meeting his speculative gaze. ‘I have an autistic brother and I volunteer for an autism charity back home.’

His calm façade and assessing stare gave nothing away. ‘You have an English accent.’

‘Yes.’ The dangerous heat was back, frying my neurons and rendering me monosyllabic.

‘Where are you from?’ His stare glittered with interest, as his green eyes seemed to see straight through me.

‘I grew up in Hertfordshire.’

‘Do you live in New Zealand now?’

‘No. It’s just a working holiday. My friend dragged me here—said my horizons needed broadening. She’s very persuasive.’ Divulging so much personal information gave me jitters. Time to finish up. ‘Try to keep the wound dry. You’ll need to have the sutures removed in seven days.’

He nodded, acknowledging my instructions, but maintaining his line of questioning. ‘So where’s home?’

‘I live in London. Paddington.’ A fresh round of heat prickled my skin at his continued staring. ‘I’ll just give you the tetanus shot and then we’re all done.’

‘More torture?’ His eyes sparkled and he dropped back into the chair.

I needed to get away from here. Away from him. He was confusing me with his down-to-earth charm. I’d been expecting a diva.

I rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt to jab him in the top of his arm. The clean smell of fabric softener and the outdoors hit my nose, shocking me with its intensity and the effect it had on my stomach.

‘So, what are your plans once you get back to the UK?’

I shrugged as I removed my gloves. ‘I have a job on a paediatric rotation.’

‘Children?’

‘Yes. I start in a month.’ I averted my eyes from his, a flush heating my chest and neck. Why was I telling him this? ‘You’re all done.’ I moved back to the vanity to pack up my case.

‘You don’t like talking about yourself?’

I wasn’t touching that one. This was getting far too personal for comfort. ‘I’m leaving you a couple of painkillers here. You may need them when the local wears off.’ I placed a small plastic bag next to the basin.

‘Thanks.’ He returned the chairs to their original positions, lifting them with one hand, the muscles of his shoulder and back flexing.

I filled my lungs, slipping on polite professionalism once more. ‘Well, goodbye, Mr Banks. It was nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’ He took my elbow and gestured for me to go ahead of him into the hallway. ‘After you.’

‘Nate, all sorted?’ A man in his twenties approached us. He wore heavy black-framed spectacles and had a twitchy energy about him, like he never sat still.

‘Yes. Jake, this is Sophia King. Dr King, my assistant, Jake.’

We shook hands.

‘Jake, can you organise premiere tickets for Dr King?’

Jake nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping away at the screen.

I stuttered. ‘No. There’s no need.’ Heat returned to my cheeks and I added, ‘Thank you.’

Both sets of eyes settled on me but it was Nathan who spoke. ‘It’s no trouble. You expressed an interest. It’s the least I can do.’ He held up his injured hand, indicating a debt re-paid.

‘I’m grateful, but it’s my job, and I can buy my own movie tickets, thanks.’ I clutched the handle of the case with both hands and straightened my shoulders. I didn’t do beholden.

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. ‘Not a fan, eh?’

I glanced down at my feet. ‘I should be off. It’s getting late.’ Dusk was settling over the lake and once the sun dipped behind the mountains, the boat ride back would be chillier.

Jake interrupted. ‘Dr King, could you please sign this before you leave? It’s a standard confidentiality agreement.’ He handed me the papers he’d been holding and pointed to a doorway across the hall. ‘There’s an office here.’

I glanced back at Nathan, a tight smile on my lips, and followed Jake, who’d flicked on a desk lamp and pulled out a chair.

I placed my case on the floor, ignoring the seat, and began to read through the document. My heart raced as I scanned each line. The pompous words swam before my eyes, but I was determined to make them wait.

Nathan stood in the doorway. ‘It’s all very standard. A necessary evil, I’m afraid.’ The charming Brit with the dry sense of humour was gone, replaced by this professional celebrity. Perhaps he’d learned the hard way that people couldn’t be trusted—something we had in common?

‘Yes, I’m sure. I understand, Mr Banks, believe me.’ I kept my eyes on the document, flipping to the second page.

Jake fidgeted with the pens on the desk, lining them up, side by side. ‘Mr Banks values his privacy. Everyone at the lodge has signed one of these.’

‘No explanation is necessary.’ I cast a polite smile at Jake, my mouth tight.

I turned back to Nathan. ‘Rest assured, I have very high levels of both professional and personal integrity, Mr Banks. I take my work very seriously and I would never speak to the press or anyone else for that matter. I’m a doctor—patient confidentiality is paramount to me.’

He eyed me, his stare hardening. ‘Unfortunately, I’ve learned the hard way not everyone I meet has your scruples.’ His laugh held little humour. ‘Even the ones who hate my films realise they can still sell my autograph on the internet or my picture to a magazine.’ His lips twitched and his cool assessment flitted over my heated face. ‘You won’t even accept premiere tickets from me.’

‘No, I won’t.’ I made a show of reading the remainder of the document before adding my signature to the last page. I reached for my case and turned for the door.

Nathan blocked the doorway, a seemingly delighted smile on his face. He stood aside, gesturing for me to pass.

Head held high, I stepped into the hallway, coming face to face with a woman I recognised.

‘Is it all over?’ She bypassed me, rushing to Nathan’s side. ‘Oh, poor baby. I hate blood.’ Her nose crinkled.

Claudia Garrett was a well-known American actress. Tall, willowy and glowing with health, she looked amazing in a winter white sweater and skin-tight jeans. Not a strand of her platinum hair was out of place, and she wore just enough make up to accentuate her dewy complexion and full mouth.

‘Was it terrible?’ She raised a hand and stroked her fingers through the hair at his temple.

Nathan smiled down at her, then his unreadable gaze met mine over the top of her head. ‘Dr King here was very gentle with me.’

She turned in my direction. ‘Oh, hi.’ Looping her arm through Nathan’s, she tugged him down the hallway. ‘Come on, I thought we were partying? I’ve organised hot shots by the fire and the sunset is stunning.’

So, he had a movie star girlfriend? Dejection was a bitter pill in my mouth. Shaking my head, I snapped myself from my ridiculous funk. Nathan Banks was way out of my league and that was fine by me. As he’d pointed out, I wanted nothing from him, not even his free tickets.

Jake gestured for me to follow the couple, but when we reached the great room, Nathan paused, allowing me to enter first.

‘Would you like a drink, Dr King?’ Claudia perched on a cream sofa and gestured to a tray of shot glasses on the table.

‘No, thank you. I should be going.’ I levelled a stare at Nathan. ‘Mr Banks, I advise you not to mix those painkillers with alcohol.’ I winced at my own tone—party pooper.

He appraised me coolly, neither acknowledging my advice nor assuring me of his compliance. ‘I’ll be with you soon, Claudia. Dr King, I’ll walk you out.’ Taking my elbow, he guided me towards the kitchen and the lodge’s rear entrance.

My skin tingled under his touch, the gentleman-like contact rattling me after our confrontation, but I forced myself to keep my arm still and appear unaffected.

‘Thanks again for your care.’ He held up his bandaged hand. ‘And for coming all this way.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Sometimes it’s easier to avoid the media circus.’

The timely reminder of the pitfalls of life in the public eye helped to douse my attraction to him. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

We’d arrived at the small boot room off the kitchen. He retrieved my coat from the coat hook and held it open. My arm felt the absence of his touch, as if his hand had been part of my skeleton, holding me together.

‘I wish you every success with your career.’ The Hollywood smile was back, dazzling me. ‘And if you do see the film, I hope you enjoy it.’

I shrugged into my coat, mumbling my thanks.

The back door opened, blasting us with icy air blown down from the mountains and revealing the rugged face of the man who’d brought me here, Ben, the lodge caretaker.

‘Ready to go, Dr King? Light’s going.’

‘Yes. Thanks Ben. All set.’

Taking one last indulgent glance at my illustrious patient, I stiffened my spine and headed outside to the jet boat waiting to take me back to reality.

Chapter Two

THE clinic teemed with patients during the winter months, when the town’s population doubled in size with adrenaline junkies, tourists and families seeking fun in the snow. After the morning’s steady stream of fractures, sprains and chesty coughs, I was ready for a break.

Jess—a Welsh, pixie-faced red head—had that sunshine-spreading disposition common to all excellent nurses. She was also my flat mate, best friend and, if she had her way, chief matchmaker.

‘C’mon, time for a cuppa. You look knackered,’ she said.

‘Didn’t sleep very well.’ I had little resilience to deal with her effervescence on a typical day, let alone a day when I felt cumbersome from sleep deprivation. But I followed her to the staff room anyway, accepting my fate and the unavoidable interrogation.

Excitement lit her blue eyes. ‘So, what was he like?’

I sighed. I needed caffeine to get through this. Jess didn’t miss a trick, and what could I say about Nathan Banks? ‘He was …’

I’d spent most of the night re-living my encounter with him. I’d been expecting the charisma, the good looks, even the charm. But the down-to-earth hottie with a wicked sense of humour? He’d been a revelation. Right up to the point where he’d morphed into a paranoid arse with an NDA in his pocket.

‘What?’

‘As you’d expect, really. Compelling, charming and a bit of a diva.’ Fishing the tea bag from my mug, I dropped it into the bin and wandered over to the comfy chairs.

‘Oh, come on, really?’ She pulled an apple from her bag, her flash of disbelief indicating she wouldn’t be fobbed off. I’d have to give her something.

‘Well at first he seemed quite normal, you know, grounded?’ My description grated on my own ears. How could I label such a magnetic man as ‘normal’? There was nothing ordinary about Nathan Banks, and if I closed my eyes I could still conjure the pull I’d experienced to him.

Jess leaned forward in her chair. ‘So what happened?’

‘I can’t really tell you. He asked me to sign a confidentiality agreement and I left him