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turn.
    Thoughts of the spirited midwife suddenly
filled his head. The fire in her dark brown eyes and the passion in
her voice when she’d spoken to him about his sister remained fixed
in his memory. She’d only met Cynthia the day prior to his arrival
and yet it was clear the nurse already cared a great deal about
what happened to her. Georgie Whitely had a generous heart. She
also had a sweet ass and lips that looked so full and soft he
couldn’t help but wonder what they’d taste like.
    He could phone her on the pretext of needing
advice. It wasn’t really a pretext… After all, she already knew
he’d agreed to take care of Cynthia. A fortnight down the track, it
wasn’t a stretch to imagine he might be experiencing difficulties.
Grief was such a personal thing. Everyone dealt with it
differently. A teenage girl, mourning the loss of her baby, was not
the run-of-the-mill variety.
    Besides, his request for advice wouldn’t be
deceitful. He was struggling to know just what it was
Cynthia needed. The feeling of helplessness was so foreign to him,
frustration was raising its ugly head along with increasing fatigue
and the last thing his sister needed was to be living with an
irritable brother. He needed to get a handle on things and
understand what it was she was going through. Then he might be in a
position to help her more effectively, beyond his lame efforts, to
date.
    Glancing at his watch, he noticed he still
had fifteen minutes before the premier was due to arrive. He
reached across his desk for the phone and called directory
assistance, seeking the number for the Sydney Harbour Hospital. He
didn’t know if Georgie would be at work, but he was willing to give
it a shot. Without her private phone number, the hospital was his
only way of contacting her.
    He listened while the robotic,
computer-generated voice gave him the information he sought.
Scrawling the number on a piece of paper for future reference, he
ended the call and then dialed again, this time to the hospital.
The phone was answered on the second ring.
    “Sydney Harbour Hospital. May I help
you?”
    “Could you put me through to Ward Seven,
please?”
    Cam waited while the phone rang out again,
this time for much longer than before. At last, it was picked up
and a woman answered.
    “Ward Seven.”
    Cam cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Ah,
I’m wondering if Georgie Whitely is available.”
    “Yes, she is. May I ask who’s calling?”
    “Cameron Dawson. My sister was a patient on
your ward a fortnight ago. Nurse Whitely took care of her. I was
wondering if I could speak with her.”
    There was a slight pause and then the woman
answered. “I’ll see if she’s free. I won’t be a minute.”
    Silence greeted him on the other end. Cam
knew that at any moment Georgie could pick up the phone to talk to
him and his guts twisted with nerves.
    What was he going to say to her? Just come right out with it and ask her for a date? No, that
wouldn’t do. He’d play it cool, ask her for advice about Cynthia
and gage her reaction; work his way up from there.
    “Georgie Whitely.”
    The sound of her earthy, no-nonsense voice
brought back a rush of memories of his all-too-brief encounter with
the pretty midwife. Once again, he cleared his throat.
    “Georgie, it’s Cameron Dawson. I’m—”
    “Cynthia’s brother,” she interrupted. “Yes,
I remember. Is she okay?”
    The concern was back in her voice and Cam
felt warmth spread through him. Georgie Whitely was just as good
and kind as he’d guessed. Throw in the fact she was sexy as hell
and he couldn’t help but be interested. He only hoped she was
single and that she might be open to getting to know him
better.
    Realizing she was still waiting for him to
respond, he answered in a rush. “Um, kind of. The thing is, I don’t
really know. Cynthia’s been seeing that psychiatrist you
recommended and some days she seems all right, but she still cries
herself to sleep all the time and I wake up