"Gabs, are you doing anything tonight?" Jack asked Gabrielle about a week later.

Was he kidding? She never did anything at night. She knew hardly anyone outside the hospital and nothing of what was worth doing for fun. "No, why?"

"'Cos I'm bored and the Colosseum's doing an Italian double."

She scrunched up her face in confusion. "Isn't that in Athens?" she asked.

His mouth turned up in a slightly patronising smile. "It's actually in Rome, the one you're talking about. What I'm talking about is a cinema that specialises in European-language films."

She scowled at the slightly patronising tone in his voice. "Sor-eee," she said sarcastically.

He flashed her a guilty smile. "I know I can be a bit of a prat sometimes," he admitted. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Look, let me buy you a drink after to make it up to you. Please? It's much more fun seeing a movie with company."

He sounded so contrite that she wanted to melt. But she wouldn't let him off too quickly... especially when it was quite pleasant to have a man who was instantly apologetic over so minor a slight. "Alcoholic?" she asked.

"Of course. Where's the fun in seeing foreign films if you can't discuss them over expensive cocktails with exotic names?"

Several hours later, Gabrielle was talking a mile a minute after two engaging movies and several cocktails that went down like silk, too delicious for her to stop and think about how much alcohol they contained. "Sorry, I'm talking too much," she apologised when she saw Jack looking at her intently, an indefinable smile on his face.

"It's fine. I think I'm enjoying your enthusiasm more than I did the movies."

"You've seen them before?"

"Life is Beautiful, yes. Not The Last Kiss. To be honest, I'm surprised you liked it, given your feelings on infidelity."

Gabrielle shrugged. Jack had a point, and yet... "I liked the way it was portrayed. I liked how it was a one-time thing and he called it off of his own choice instead of being caught out... and I liked how he was open-minded about not being able to expect fidelity from his wife. It was a ... different way of looking at things. Very..."

"European?" Jack offered. Gabrielle nodded. "It's what I like about the Colosseum. I'm not big on American movies."

Gabrielle had to laugh at that. "You have a reputation for being a cultural snob. I'm beginning to think maybe you were in the right." She took a long sip of her cocktail. "These are delicious," she said in a way that gave Jack the impression she thought as highly of his taste in cocktails – he had ordered for her, her experience in alcohol was largely limited to VB – as she did his taste in movies. He found himself feeling oddly flustered at that.

"Why don't I take you home?" he suggested. "I can do a pretty good version of these myself, and for a third of the price."


"Let me guess, you attempted to match Jack drink-for-drink and came off somewhat worse for wear?" Vincent asked Gabrielle the following day. She certainly wasn't up to her usual standard of poise and chipperness.

Gabrielle glowered at Vincent. She couldn't believe those silky, fruity cocktails could pack such a punch... and leave her with such a hangover. Of course, she hadn't done herself any favours by insisting she was fine when Jack had suggested she should quit for the night. But that was all his fault. He shouldn't know how to make such delicious drinks that tasted like fruit smoothies and contained about five standard drinks.

That, and he shouldn't be allowed to be so charming or insightful. He was fascinating to talk to, especially after a few drinks. He had opened up a little about his relationships with Terri and Deanna and she was beginning to realise how little the rumours matched up to the truth. By his own admission, he had bad judgement when it came to women, but it was the worst he could be accused of.

"What's the deal with you and Cate?" she couldn't resist asking after a few drinks. Jack had just looked at her blankly. "I mean, I know you guys are mates, and, well... people talk."

"And naturally when two people have made asses of ourselves over relationships the way Cate and I have, it's par for the course for us to eventually gravitate towards each other?" Jack asked.

Gabrielle looked sheepish that Jack had so succinctly worded what people were assuming about them. But at least Jack didn't look put out. "Something like that."

"We have a lot in common, including our talents for falling for the wrong people," Jack said ruefully. "I have a lot of fun with her, but we're just mates. And God knows, right now she needs a mate who isn't going to take advantage of her."

The tone in Jack's voice suggested that he was very aware of the trouble Cate was getting herself into. Neither of them could do much to help someone as wilful as Cate was while she was insistent that she didn't need help... but Gabrielle felt better about the situation knowing that Cate had someone like Jack having her back. "I would have liked having someone like you as my mate," she said wistfully, thinking that maybe if she'd had Jack as a best mate instead of Ashley – well, thing would have been a lot different, that was for sure.'

Jack had immediately noticed the melancholy shift in her mood and correctly assumed she was thinking of Ashley. God knew from the sounds of her that this woman, she was in the same category of 'friend' as Jo. She didn't deserve to be at the mercy of someone like that. He reached out and squeezed her hand. "You do have someone like me as a mate," he had told her...

"Gabrielle?" Vincent asked, noticing the faraway look in her eyes as she recalled something – presumably something happy, from the slight smile on her face. Vincent repeated her name again, and Gabrielle jumped to attention. "I asked if you tried matching drinks with Jack. You don't look too good."

Gabrielle scowled again. "It should be illegal for someone to be able to hold their alcohol like that, and act the next morning like that hadn't drunk at all."

Vincent laughed at that. "You're not the first person to discover that," he said. "He and his sister are like two peas in a pod like that. It's frankly a bit embarrassing that this slip of an eighteen-year-old can out-drink men twicer her size."

Gabrielle suppressed a smile at that. Vincent sounded like he wished he was a little younger so he could match wits with a slip of an eighteen-year-old. If Rebecca was as charming and insightful as her older brother, it didn't surprise her that so many men found her enchanting. "What's she like?" Gabrielle asked. "Rebecca, I mean."

Vincent gave her a penetrating look that made Gabrielle think she'd been a touch too inquisitive and she shrank back a little. "I've only met her twice," he said. "But I know Jack thinks the world of her. They're unbelievably in sync, you'd think they were twins and not half-siblings seven years apart the way they carry on."

"You sound like you like her."

Vincent laughed at that. "I like that she humiliated Jack's girlfriend at the time. No-one but Jack particularly liked her, but Rebecca in particular hated her, and Deanna made the mistake of thinking this teenager he'd known for a few months was of no consequence. She seems devoted to him and it's good for him to have that. But God help any woman he decides to date who she doesn't approve of." And he walked off, still chuckling at the image of Rebecca getting the better of Deanna.

Nonetheless, he mentioned it to Charlotte later on. "They seem pretty pally," Vincent noted.

"Good God, Vincent, don't tell me that you of all people is listening to the crap that's coming out of Bianca Frost's mouth," Charlotte said. Bianca had done her danmdest to insinuate that there was something going on between Jack and Gabrielle. Jack had retaliated by telling anyone who would listen that such was the nature of Bianca's mind and ego that she found that theory much more believable than the fact Gabrielle had refused to work with her after she had terrorised her staff once too often. Jack had been willing to take a lot of crap from Bianca, but the second she went after anyone else – especially someone he cared about who had been caught in the crossfire of Bianca's hatred of him – he proved he could be just as mean as his sister could be. Vincent couldn't help but wonder if something more than simple palliness was going on between them that Jack had come to her defence like that.

"Of course I don't," Vincent said. He didn't like Bianca any better than anyone else. Her only good trait was her phenomenal skills as a surgeon, and for that, they had to tolerate her arrogance and pettiness. He was actually starting to wish Mike was still around. He wouldn't have tolerated her attitude. "They just seem to be doing a lot together lately."

"Oddly enough, that's what mates do. We socialise a lot."

Which, in Vincent's opinion, was precisely the point. He and Charlotte had been married and their friendship stemmed from that closeness. Jack and Gabrielle had barely known each other until he had moved in just a few weeks ago. "You're reading far too much into it," Charlotte said when Vincent tried to explain himself. "Go... talk to Jack about cars or whatever you boys talk about."

Vincent stifled a snort of laughter at that. For all their own closeness, Charlotte didn't know Jack as well as she thought she did, because Jack found cars mind-numbingly boring in the same way most people did algebra.


"You look like crap," Cate said, which Gabrielle thought was somewhat hypocritical given the state she came in most days – usually late, no less. Typical Murphy's Law, it was the first time in a week that Cate had had a sober night before and Gabrielle was hungover. She felt very unprofessional and vowed to get even with Jack over this. "Drinking session with Jack and Rebecca?"

"Just Jack. Didn't realise he was so good with a cocktail shaker."

"Or a blender," Cate said dryly. She caught Jack looking at her and grinned ruefully. "We've ended up having quite a few pity parties between us. He's a good mate to have your back."

There was a tone in Cate's voice that sounded like regret. "You haven't spent much time with him lately?" she asked. But then, he already knew that, living with him.

"Jo came onto him in, well – the way she does." Gabrielle nodded. Sean had made it clear what he thought of the man-eating brunette. Forward wasn't the word. "It creeped him out. I mean, really creeped him out. He doesn't like, uh... forward women."

"That's not actually what he called her, is it?" Gabrielle asked knowingly.

Cate shook her head. Jack had actually made some cutting observations that were blindingly true despite their inherent viciousness. Which in itself was unlike Jack and testimony to how uncomfortable Jo's advances had made him. "He wants someone... nice, I guess. Genuine and.. not shy or coy but not going to throw herself at him, either. So I haven't seen much of him lately 'cos he wants nothing to do with Jo and I spend a lot of time with her, so..." Cate shrugged to say that she wasn't happy about the situation, but she didn't see that there was anything she could do about it.

Gabrielle made a mental note to have a word to Jack about giving Cate a bit of leeway. It would do the poor girl no good to have friends like Jack slip away because of the influence of so-called 'friends' like Jo. But more importantly, she felt a fission of joy that Jack had been so turned off by someone as obvious and aggressive as Jo. It made her think more of him to know that he wasn't interested in women like Jo... and Ashley.


"Jack, did you have any plans for next Friday?" Gabrielle asked. She didn't want to be too forward and admit that she'd already taken a peek at his roster and knew that he had both Friday and Saturday off, but she was hoping he had no plans.

"Yeah, I'm doing something with my sister," he said. "Why?"

She tried to hide her disappointment. "No reason, just thought you might want to do something."

He looked at her quizzically. It was a bit odd to ask if someone was free more than a week in advance. "You sure?" he asked.

She smiled weakly, feeling stupid. Of course with the lousy schedule Bianca had him on, he would already had plans for a rare Friday night off. "Yeah," she said, hoping she sounded convincing, "Just... felt like going out, that's all."

He waited until she went to have a shower and made a beeline for her bag. He never got why women just kept their bags lying around when they had housemates, but then, she was a country girl from a place you couldn't just pop into a rob, and he tended to judge people by his own anal standard of privacy. Besides, it was handy to have access to her bag. Something told him next Friday was special for her and he wanted to know what.

Trying not to dislodge anything so it would be obvious her bag had been pawed through, Jack noted her planner and quickly flipped through it. There was nothing of note, either next Friday or any other day, other than a note to visit her father and brother a few weekends from now. It made Jack feel a little sorry for her; she really didn't know anyone in Sydney other than him. Though it couldn't be easy for her, growing up in an environment so different to Sydney. He bet country people were a lot more friendly and coming to Sydney would have been something of a shock.

Well, there was nothing to be found in her planner. He spotted her purse and, feeling somewhat guilty, retrieved it and opened it up. He rationalised that he wasn't stealing from her, just looking for information. And he had a feeling he was going to find it on her driver's licence.

It was an old picture – she would have been seventeen or eighteen in it – and Jack smirked at it. She looked quite cute, if somewhat countryish. And she was remarkably young to be a NUM, but he'd already known that. But it wasn't the picture he was interested in, or even the year she was born in. It was her date of birth that he was after, her birthday.

It was next Friday.


Gabrielle came home the following Friday tired and cranky. Her father and brother had called her at work to wish her a happy birthday, and she had appreciated it, but it had only served to remind her that she would be spending her birthday alone. At least if she was on the farm, she would be with family and friends. Here, she had no-one.

She entered her room to find Jack rummaging through her wardrobe with the indifferent air as if he was going through his own. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"You," he said accusingly, "have precisely jack shit that you can wear out in Sydney." He pawed through a series of cotton dresses that she wore on days off. She cringed, feeling frumpy enough that she forgot to be pissed off at Jack for rummaging through her wardrobe. He was right; she had nothing she could wear out in a place like Sydney. She didn't even have the kind of flashy nightclub clothes that she seemed to be seeing Cate wearing all the time that she wasn't in uniform. "Bloody hell. I thought all girls got taught by their mothers how to dress."

"In case you've forgotten, my mum died when I was sixteen," Gabrielle said sullenly. She suddenly remembered the photo Jack had of him and his sister at a wedding last year. She had been wearing a white flowing dress – silk, maybe – that wasn't out-of-place at a wedding.

"Sorry," Jack said. He hadn't meant to rile her up, but he couldn't believe the lack of dress clothes Jack had. Maybe he should have said something sooner, given her time to get something appropriate, rather than wanting it to be a surprise. "Ah, here we go," he said, pulling out an emerald-green dress which felt like taffeta. It had a v-neckline and was clinched at the waist in a runched style. "Hey, this is nice," he said, unable to hide his surprise that Gabrielle possessed such a dress, especially considering the rest of her wardrobe consisted of jeans, t-shirts and summer dresses.

In truth, she had forgotten that she had it. She had spotted it on clearance sale shortly after arriving in Sydney, and even though it had been something of an indulgence for her, she had bought it on impulse. It had meant to be a 'nice' dress that she could wear to all the exciting places she felt she would be sure to go to... but so far, nothing. The price tag was still on it. "What are you doing?" she asked, feeling ever more sorry for herself watching Jack go through her wardrobe and flaunting the dress that she had no reason to wear.

"How do you feel about musicals about controversial feminist icons?" Jack asked.

"Huh?"

"I have tickets to Evita and you need a nice dress. You know, the musical about Eva Peron. It was made into a movie –"

"Jack, I've heard of Evita. I just don't understand what you're talking about. I thought you had plans with your sister."

"I did," he said with a disarming grin. "Hence why I have two tickets. I told Rebecca it wasn't right for a girl to spend her birthday at home alone. Especially not her first birthday in Sydney. She's pissed at me, but I think she'll get over it. There are other plays, and she only has one brother."

He said this all as casually as if he had bailed on a coffee date he'd had planned with Rebecca. "Jack... I can't take you sister's ticket," she said, wanting to cry for joy over such a pleasant surprise. A play. She had never been to a play before, not unless you counted the ones they had put on at school. And it had to be at a pretty nice place if her green dress was suitable for it. Despite herself, she imagined being all dolled up with Jack on her arm. And he was tall enough that even in heels, he would still be taller than her. She forced the image from her mind. She couldn't take his sister's ticket.

Jack made a face. "Man, don't tell me you already have plans," he said. "Damn, I knew I should have said something before."

"No, I don't have plans, I just can't take your sister's ticket. She's you sister, Jack. I know you don't see her as much as you want to."

Jack shrugged. "Too late, she's already made plans." He checked his watch. "Look, I have dinner reservations for seven, you have forty-five minutes to get ready. Please don't tell me you're one of those girls who takes hours to get ready."

She smiled at that, imagining her father's reaction if she spent hours in the bathroom when there were chores to be done. "No, I'm not. I can be ready in half an hour." Impulsively, she gave a very un-Gabrielle squeal and threw herself into Jack's arms. "Thankyou," she gushed. "This means a lot to me."

He spun her around in a circle. She was secretly delighted that he was able to lift her with such ease. She could feel the muscles in his chest tensing to handle the extra weight, and she found it sexy. Certainly, Steve had never been in as good shape as Jack was. She kissed him on the cheek and he put her down. "I'll be as quick as I can," she said.

He watched her go. And he hadn't even gotten into trouble for going through her stuff. Of course, it hadn't occurred to her, but with any luck by the time it did, he would have made her too happy to care.

He had sugar-coated the truth when he had said Rebecca was a little pissed. She had been mad as hell. But she had no other siblings so she couldn't hold a grudge forever, and anyway, seeing Gabrielle's eyes sparkle like that had made any anger he had to deal with totally worth it.

"Thanks so much for this," Gabrielle said several hours later when they got home. She felt glamorous and sophisticated. She felt like a million dollars. "This is best birthday ever." Helped along by the fact that ever so often, she had pictured Ashley seeing her, in the kind of outfit that you couldn't just pick up at Target Country, dining in a fancy restaurant and then seeing a critically acclaimed musical on the arm of a handsome young doctor. She giggled, relishing the thought.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked.

"Just... happy." She didn't feel like saying Ashley's name out loud; it seemed like it would spoil the moment.

"Good. We should do it again sometime."

"I'd like that. But you're not paying for me again. I shouldn't have let you pay for me in the first place."

"Rubbish. But if it makes you feel better, you can pay for the first round of drinks for, like, ever."

She laughed. "Deal."

He walked her to her room. "I had a great night," she said.

"Me, too," he said. "I haven't had this much fun in... months," he said. Their eyes connected and she knew without being told that he hadn't had such a good time since Deanna's betrayal... maybe even since before that. It gave her a thrill to know that she could make Jack feel good, have fun. Steve had stripped her of so much of her self-esteem when it came to men... but here was this man, younger, fitter, infinitely more worldly, who enjoyed being around her, had fun with her...

She didn't want the night to end, but she knew it had to. "Well, goodnight," she said...

...Jack's hand snaked in front of hers and grabbed the door handle before she could, keeping it firmly closed. "Hey," he said huskily. "You don't think I'm so little a gentleman that I take a girl out for her birthday and don't kiss her goodnight?" Her heart caught in her throat as he said it and she was suddenly very aware of how nice he smelt – of soap, shampoo and breath mints. She suddenly realised how often she had thought about what it would be like to be kissed by someone who cared about being clean.

His lips were soft, almost tentative, on hers, his tongue running gently across her lips, seeking a sign of consent. Steve had certainly never kissed her like this, so gentle, so respectful, so soft despite the obvious power in his body. She opened her mouth slightly and met his tongue with her own. "Jack," she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, so soft and clean and pity it was a touch too short and she couldn't properly run her fingers through it. "Jack."

He wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand still on the door handle. She arched her body so she pushed the small of her back against his arm and shifted her breasts against his chest at the same time in unspoken consent. Jack moved his arm up, his hand on the zipper of her dress and he tugged it down gently, loosening the material so he had more bare skin to kiss and touch. "Jack," she said again.

He lifted her up into his arms and twisted the door handle awkwardly, opening it and carrying her into her room, laying her down on the bed with gentleness and grace before moving on top of her...

... "Good night," Jack echoed, a faint smile on her face, as if he could read her thought. Gabrielle was glad that it was dark and she had make-up on so Jack couldn't see her blushing. Embarrassed, she quickly opened the door and escaped to the sanctuary of her room. She leaned against the door, her face burning. It had been so vivid! And worse, after Jack had been so nice and taken her out on her birthday... surely she should have known that he was just being a mate, but no, she had construed it as a date. If it had been a date, it had merely been of the pity kind. And like an idiot, she had let her imagination run away with her and thought Jack was actually interested in her, when everyone knew that he wasn't interested in dating another colleague.

She banged her head against the door, feeling stupid.


"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm agreeing with Bianca. There's something going on between them," Vincent insisted.

"Yeah, 'cos they're both so pally with her that they'd confide in her," Charlotte scoffed. By this point, the mutual ill-feeling between Bianca and Gabrielle was on a par with the mutual ill-feeling between Bianca and Jack. And the best thing was, Jack and Gabrielle seemed to have something on Bianca that had Bianca more and more on the back foot. Charlotte was dying to know what it was. "Besides, don't you remember how he was after Deanna?"

Vincent shrugged. "This is different. He's had time to get to know Gabrielle. We all have. Hell, I think even Rebecca would like her."

Charlotte laughed at that. "I doubt it. Apparently Jack had plans to see some play with her but ditched her to take Gabrielle out on her birthday and she's been sore about it ever since. Didn't want to see the play, of course, but pissed as hell that he dare take someone else. I think she's worried she has another Deanna on her hands."

To Vincent's amazement, Charlotte had managed to completely miss the fact that Jack had made plans with his sister and then bailed on her to do the same thing with Gabrielle. More to the point – "How do you know this?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged. "I have my sources," she said.

Which meant she and Rebecca had lesbian acquaintances in common, Vincent surmised. Never mind. Charlotte had just proved his theory. Jack didn't ditch his sister for just anyone.


"Hey, d'you feel like coming over for a playstation marathon?" Dan asked Jack a few days later. It had been a month now and Dan was seriously missing Jack. It had been nice to have the company of someone who liked to do guy things, even just a little. Neither Jessica or Erica were gamers, and while Bart was eager to learn, it wasn't the same as having Jack around.

"Thanks, but I promised Gabrielle I'd be home for dinner. She's doing a roast chicken."

Dan scowled. Roast chicken sounded nice. It would sure beat a microwave dinner. It wasn't fair that two talented cooks were concentrated in the same house. "I'll pick one up from Woolies," he offered.

Jack laughed at that. "I suggest you never compare a Woolies chook to hers is you ever want day shifts again," he said. "Apparently there isn't a butcher in the entire of Sydney that sells chickens to her standard. This one came from her family farm. She made a massive deal about it being hormone free and squawking yesterday. I think she'd throw me out if I told her I was choosing a Woolies chook over hers."

Wish she would, Dan thought.

"That was your idea of an apology?" Erica asked with a smirk after Jack had left. Dan smiled sheepishly. "That was the shittiest apololgy that I've ever heard. In fact, it wasn't even an apology. It was you trying to be mates again without admitting any wrongdoing."

"He knows I was wrong!" Dan said indignantly.

"Have you told him that?" Erica asked. Dan was silent. "Well, you'd better hop to it. I don't think playstation will trump roast chook for long."


"My legs hurt," Jack complained. "How can you put yourself through this?"

"You told me you hit the treadmill for an hour at a time, you big wuss," Gabrielle scoffed. Secretly she was impressed that Jack had lasted this long. People rarely got how much harder it was to walk, job or run through soft sand than a hard surface until they actually did it.

"That's a treadmill," Jack countered. "It's a hard surface." Actually, he'd kept up with her as long as he could, too embarrassed to admit how much harder it was to jog along the beach than it was to hit the treadmill. He was beginning to understand why she had so much energy, if she took Angel for frequent walks at the dog beach. Well, he was still bigger and stronger than her. That thought made him feel a lot better.

"Fine, sit on the sand and read your stupid book," she said.

He poked his tongue out at her. "You only think it's stupid 'cos you didn't know who Tolstoy was." She poked her tongue back at him and set off along the beach. Jack retreated to a patch of sand further away from the surf, laid out his towel and settled down to read his book...

... The book wasn't as interesting as it might have been, so Jack watched Gabrielle instead. She was in incredibly good shape. He knew she was fit but hadn't knows just how fit under the jeans and t-shirts she normally wore. But in shorts and a bikini top, the muscles in her arms and legs were obvious. Not to mention the way she handled a boisterous adult kelpie like it was a miniature poodle, or maybe a kitten. And the way her hair was loose down her back, and the massive expanses of skin, slightly tanned thanks to hours spent walking Angel.

She let Angel off his leash and he bounded into the water, looking every inch the working dogs that kelpies were bred to be. She sauntered up to him and he couldn't help but notice how glowingly healthy and alive she looked. Her hair was a mess, but that only made her look freer. He wondered how he had ever found Terri, with her waifish figure that made her appear so delicate and hair that was never out of place or clothes that were never unruffled, attractive.

He held out his hand to help her down. She stumbled slightly, and ended up straddling him, her knees on either side of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt warm, that kind of dry warmth that you only seem able to get by being out in the sunshine. Jesus Christ, how could he have possibly missed how gorgeous she was?

He kissed her with an intensity that surprised him. After Deanna he had shut himself off romantically, and hadn't thought he could feel this way about a woman again. He wasn't sure he had ever felt this way about a woman. With Terri, he had known deep down that she didn't return the depth of his feelings, and he had never really known Deanna. But he knew Gabrielle, had laughed with her, hung out with her, shared his world, shared hers.

She tasted warm and salty. He searched for her tongue and she provided eagerly. He ran his hand down her back, tracing random patterns across her skin, feeling the grains of sand scattered over her body. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that would mean pulling his mouth away from hers.

He could feel her weight bearing down on him, and allowed her to push her onto his back before he flipped her so she was beneath her. "I like to be in top," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before he started exploring her face and neck with his mouth.

"Jack," she said, and he liked the way his name sounded on her tongue. "Jack..."

... "Jack! You're going to get burnt!" Gabrielle interrupted his reverie. Jack woke up with a start and rubbed his eyes. God, that had been vivid. He wondered if the heat in his face was to do with the sun or if he was blushing. He turned his face from her and pretended to be busy with retrieving his book. "I told you that doorstop isn't beach material," she said. She handed him a bottle of sunscreen.

"Thanks," he mumbled, still not looking at her.

"You OK?" she asked.

"Just a little overheated," he lied. She handed him a bottle of water and he thanked her for it. God, how embarrassing. She wouldn't have given him a second thought. No way would she be interested in a colleague, especially not someone with his reputation... although she did know him better than most. He finally looked at her. She looked even more gorgeous that she had in his dream. He clenched his fists, willing himself not to grab her and run them over the bare expanses of skin that she was showing, "You're hair's a mess," he mumbled.

She poked her tongue out at him and he fought the urge to kiss her. "You know how to make a girl feel good about herself, doncha?" she quipped. She raked her eyes over him. He looked flushed and uncomfortable. Maybe getting him to the beach hadn't been such a great idea. The guy spent so much time indoors, either in surgery or holed up reading a book, that all this sunshine had probably been too much for him. "You OK?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

"Then let's head home. I'm starving and it's your turn to cook."

Jack got up, and Gabrielle leaned into him the way she so often did. Jack didn't see any alternative but to wrap his arm around her warm, bare back