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'And regardless of what Dad says, we'll stay in contact for ever. He may have been able to stop me from seeing or contacting you in the past, but I'm way over the age of consent and nothing he does or says will stop me.'

'Stop you from what?' The rich Australian drawl came from behind her and Elizabeth straightened her back before slowly turning to glare at him. 'G'day.' Mitch grabbed a chair from another table and dragged it over the wooden floorboards. He spun it around so the back of the chair was pressed against the table before he swung one tanned leg over and lowered himself down.

Elizabeth watched his fluid movements, trying desperately not to stare. He wore work boots with thick socks, a pair of navy shorts, an old navy T-shirt and a blue and white striped short-sleeved cotton shirt—unbuttoned. He was all muscle and as she glanced momentarily at his thighs, She itched to touch them.

Clasping the handkerchief tighter, she wanted
desperately to
ignore him but it was extremely difficult
when he was one of
her mother's friends.

'So what's the goss?'

'I beg your pardon.'

Her voice was well modulated and haughty and Mitch loved it. 'The skinny. The buzz. You know—what's happening?'

'What's happening, Dr O'Neill, is none of your business.'

'It is when I'm supplying the grog.'

'Er...the drink,' Maude supplied when Elizabeth looked confused.

'Oh.' Elizabeth turned her attention back to him. 'Is that so? Well, in that case, I'll order Something else and pay for it myself.'

Mitch threw back his head and laughed. 'Maude, you've got a live one here.'

'Don't tease her, Mitch. Elizabeth's only been here two days and is still recovering from jet lag so leave her alone. I want to have the full six months with my daughter rather than having her high-tail it out of here because you're being a typical Australian larrikin. I've waited long enough to get her here and I'm not going to let you or anyone else spoil it for her—so leave off, mate.'

Maude's lecture only served to fuel Mitch's humour even further but he nodded in agreement, his eyes still twinkling with suppressed amusement. 'As you say, Maude, so it shall be done.'

'Thank you.'

'Although,' Mitch said, inclining his head towards Elizabeth, 'I think your beautiful daughter here is more than capable of fending for herself against...unwanted attention.' To add measure to his words, he gently rubbed his cheek.

Maude smiled. 'She's a chip off the ol' block is my girl.'

Elizabeth looked from one to the other, her annoyance increasing. 'Would you mind not discussing me as though I weren't here? I don't appreciate it at all.'

Mitch chuckled and Maude nodded quickly. 'Quite right, darling. I apologise.'

Elizabeth looked at Mitch, one eyebrow raised in question.

'Hey, don't look at me. I don't have anything to apologise for.' He pushed away from the table and stood. 'See you at work on Monday, Lizzie.' Mitch watched as her green eyes flashed briefly with anger and annoyance and he wondered why.

'My name is Elizabeth,' she said, that haughty tone of hers in place.

So, she didn't like being called Lizzie, eh? Definitely promising.

There was a commotion at the bar, with raised male voices and colourful language such as Elizabeth had never heard before. Mitch glanced at her. 'Or maybe we'll be working together sooner. Looks as though Pierre's had too much to drink.'

'Pardon?'

'Come on,' Mitch called over his shoulder as he headed towards the bar. 'Norah, hand us the first-aid kit, thanks.'

Elizabeth stood and followed cautiously, watching in disbelief as a man picked up glasses from the bar and smashed them on the floor, yelling at a few of the men around him.

'You take that back. It's not right. I never did that stuff and I told the cops all about it. They ain't got nuthin' on me and ya can't prove it—so take it back.' Pierre continued to curse at the people around him, picked up another glass and smashed it on the floor.

"That's enough, mate.' Mitch said from behind him. His voice was firm and carried over the rest of the noise. Pierre spun around, his eyes bloodshot and wild as he glared at Mitch. Elizabeth became uneasy. What was she supposed to do? She was a doctor, for heaven's sake, not a bouncer, and Pierre was a tall, large man, big enough to snap her in two if he chose.

'Come on. Your hand's already cut and bleeding and if you don't stop now, Norah will be forced to ban you for at least a week.'

'That's right,' Norah chimed in, not the least bit concerned at the commotion. 'You've been banned before, mate, and you didn't like it one bit.'

'I don't give—' Pierre picked up another glass as he spoke.

'Enough.' Mitch reached up and grabbed the glass from Pierre. The beer from it slopped all over the place. 'Stop it or I'll be calling Steve-o to lock you up for the night.'

The words seemed to penetrate Pierre's alcohol induced haze. 'Nah, don't let Steve-o lock me up. Me missus will be rife with me if ya do.'

'Yeah? Then cut it out.'

'You wouldn't.' Pierre eyed Mitch closely." Man against man. Elizabeth watched in stupefied fascination.

'I would,' Mitch replied firmly, not backing down. 'Now, let me look at your hands.' Pierre seemed to be considering his options and then, like a docile puppy, his attitude changed and he held out his hands for Mitch to see. 'Ah, you've done a good job this time, mate. Your left hand's gonna need stitching.'

Mitch reached for the first-aid kit, turning to search for Elizabeth. 'Come on over, Lizzie, it's safe now.' Before he turned back to Pierre, Mitch saw the flash of anger in her eyes once more and grinned. She was easy to tease. 'Pierre, you should be ashamed of yourself, behaving like that in front of the new doc. You'll fair scare her away.'

'Aw, geez, I'm sorry, miss.' Pierre raised sheepish eyes to meet Elizabeth's and she saw the apology there. 'I just get real stupid when I've had too much. I know I shouldn't but some days I can't help it and when you've been stuck down a hole in the ground, digging and stuff, and it's hot and the flies are everywhere, well, a man's entitled to a few beers, ain't he?'

Elizabeth forced a smile and walked over on wooden legs, picking her way carefully between the smashed glass all over the floor. She swallowed over the smell of stale beer coming from Pierre's breath and worked double hard to keep her smile in place.

She thought it was better not to make a comment to Pierre's confession so instead she opened the first-aid kit which Norah had placed on the bar and looked for a swab. She held out a pair of medical gloves to Mitch and he put them on before accepting the swab. She, too, pulled on some gloves, not wanting to think about the germs that were floating around in this place. Elizabeth continued to anticipate her new colleague's needs and handed him what was required.

'It makes it nice and easy, having you here to help,' Mitch said as he pressed a gauze bandage to the area which was bleeding the most.

Elizabeth watched Pierre as he sat staring at what Mitch was doing, the colour starting to drain from his face. 'He's going,' she called, and just in time, too. Mitch reached an arm around Pierre to stop him sliding from the bar stool and Elizabeth immediately reached for Pierre's injured hand.

With both hands now free, Mitch shoved his hands beneath Pierre's arms and with the help of his mates they picked him up and moved him to a part of the floor which wasn't covered in broken glass.

'Call the hospital and get the ambulance here, Norah,' Mitch called over his shoulder once Pierre was down. 'Someone stick a chair under his legs to elevate them. Whack a bandage around that hand, Lizzie, to help stem the bleeding while I do his obs.'

Someone placed the first-aid kit beside Elizabeth and she did as she was asked. Mitch's idea of doing Pierre's obs was to slap the man firmly on both cheeks and call loudly to him. Good grief. What had she landed herself in this time?

'Hey,' Mitch called. 'Wake up, mate.' He lifted one of Pierre's eyelids to check his pupils before slapping the man's cheeks again. 'Come on. Come round.'

And that's exactly what Pierre did. 'What?' He sat up on pure reflex, which didn't make Elizabeth's job any easier. Mitch pushed him back down again.

'Relax, mate. You're fine. Guess you don't like the sight of blood, eh.' Mitch chuckled kindly. 'You've got a beautiful sheila bandaging your hand so close your eyes, relax and enjoy it.'

Elizabeth pursed her lips together in disapproval but Mitch merely smiled at her and winked. 'That should keep him still for you, Lizzie.'

Once she'd finished bandaging the hand, the door to the pub opened and a man in a nurse's uniform walked in.

'Ah, Ryan. Glad you could make it,' Mitch drawled as he helped the nurse bring the stretcher in. Elizabeth stood up, holding Pierre's arm up to help the circulation. When their patient was secured onto the stretcher, Mitch took over once more.

'There's no need for you to come,' he said. 'Stay and enjoy your dinner with your mother.'

'How decent of you, Dr O'Neill,' she replied drolly as she removed her gloves and placed them in a plastic bag provided by Norah.

Mitch did the same and took the bag from Norah. 'Thanks. I'll take care of this.' He turned
to
Elizabeth. 'And the name's Mitch,' he corrected. 'We're very informal out here...Lizzie.' He grinned at her before turning to
Pierre.
'Let's get you to the hospital, mate.' The two men carried the stretcher towards the door. 'Oh, and, Lizzie,' Mitch called over his shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with delight. 'Enjoy the drinks. See you Monday.'

With that, he walked out. Elizabeth simply stood there seething with annoyance at the man's audacity. Gritting her teeth, she slowly turned and made her way back to her mother. 'Is he always so...so...?' Her eyes flashed with frustration.

'Arrogant? Overbearing?' Maude pretended to think for a moment. 'Yeah, I guess so.' She smiled and waved her daughter's concern away. 'Never mind, dear. You'll get used to it.'

'I sincerely hope not. The man's a barbarian.'

'No.' Maude's tone dipped and she sighed. 'He's just a man, Elizabeth. Honest, hardworking and respected by the locals. I've got a lot of time for Mitch O'Neill and once you get to know him properly, you'll feel different about him as well.'

'I doubt it, Mum, but for your sake I'll try my hardest to get along with him.'

Maude smiled. 'Thank you.' Then she chuckled. 'Lizzie, eh? I'm surprised you didn't tear him to shreds for calling you that.'

'I'm pacing myself.'

'Your father would have had conniptions if he'd heard that. Elizabeth,' she said in an exaggerated deep voice. 'Not Liz or Lizzie. Her name is
Elizabeth.'
She sighed and shook her head sadly. 'I'll never forget that.'

'What do you mean?'

'I've always thought of you as Liz. My little Lizzie. When your father heard me calling you that, he put his foot down, saying that we had christened you Elizabeth and that was how you were to be addressed. He demanded that I, and anyone else who came into contact with you, refer to you as such. He even said that nicknames were for commoners, not for people like us.'

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and nodded. She could well imagine her father saying something like that. 'So you called me Liz or Lizzie as a baby.'

Maude smiled. 'All the time, my darling, and you've remained that in my heart.'

'Then, by all means, call me that.' Elizabeth took her mother's hand. 'To you and only you, I'll be Liz, but to that wretched man at the hospital I shall be known as Elizabeth.'

Maude gave a shout of laughter and Elizabeth released her hand. 'Good luck, dear.'

'I seem to be surrounded by impossible men. First my father, then Marcus. Both of them cut from the same cloth.' Elizabeth sighed and then straightened, pushing her shoulders back with renewed confidence. 'So, compared to those two, Mitch O'Neill should be snap.'

Maude continued to smile at her. 'I admire your spirit, Liz, but Mitch can be just as overbearing as the next man. Wanting Mitch O'Neill to do something is completely different from getting him to comply.'

Elizabeth nodded confidently. 'Just you wait and see.'

 

CHAPTER TWO

Elizabeth
sat outside the front door of her mother
's
'dugout', blanket wrapped around her, sipping a mug of warmed milk. She was glad she'd come during the Australian winter even though it meant missing the English summer. The morning temperature was about 5°C but it would soon rise once the sun peeked over the horizon. Although, come to think of it, the Coober Pedy winter was about the same as the English summer, except they didn't get any rain. She smiled to herself.

It was so different. So vast and open and...desert-like—except for the mounds of dirt piled up everywhere. She'd learned they were called mullock heaps, the dumps from the miners tunnelling underground. Even the place where her mother lived had been tunnelled out or 'dug out', which was the proper term. She'd thought Maude had been joking when she'd told Elizabeth they lived underground.

Now that she was here, she understood the need better. Underground, the temperature was constant, so in the stinking hot summer months people could stay cool. The entire place was artificially lit and had a certain charm to it, but on her first night Elizabeth had hardly slept, fearing the walls would close in on her. The other thing she'd noticed was the lack of morning sounds. The only way you knew it was time to get up was when your alarm went off. No sunlight came in because there weren't any windows, no birds could be heard chirping outside. It was quiet, peaceful and very dark. As she was used to her father's home in London, it was no wonder she'd had trouble sleeping when she'd first arrived.

But now...four nights on, she was still having trouble sleeping. This time, though, it had nothing to do with her surroundings and everything to do with the fact that in a few hours she'd be starting work at the hospital...and seeing Mitchell O'Neill again.

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