‘Ta. I’ll tell the guys.’ Ruby cringed. A cop-out. Her father had come up with a million reasons for never coming to New Zealand to meet her, all of them cop-outs. If only she’d believed her mother, whom she’d badgered incessantly all her life for more information about the airman she’d imagined to be a hero. But her mother had only ever said Ruby was better off not knowing him.

As a child Ruby had waited for him to turn up bearing gifts and hugs. He would tell her he was home for good and that they’d have a happy life doing all the things her mother couldn’t afford to do. Not until she’d packed up her mother’s home after her death did Ruby learn her dad was American and had been in the US Air Force. Her parents had met when her father’s plane had stopped in Christchurch for a few days on the way to Antarctica.

Finally it hadn’t been too difficult to finally track down the man who’d spawned her. Reality had been harsh. The hero of her childhood had turned out to be a total nightmare. Her humiliation at her father’s lifestyle equalled her embarrassment at how badly she’d treated her mother over the years. Then had come the acute disappointment at the realisation she’d given up Jack for that man.

The Greaser—she no longer called him her father—was a good-looking man who’d used his abundant charm to marry into a fortune and produce offspring to keep everyone onside, especially his wealthy father-in-law, while he philandered his way through half his town’s women.

Outside, Ruby heaved one of the replenished packs up into the helicopter. ‘Kettle’s boiled.’ At last she’d get to eat that sorry-looking pie. Her stomach rolled over in happy anticipation.

Jack took the pack and strapped it into place. ‘We’re about done in here.’

She bent down for the other bag, grimacing as she lifted the heavy weight up.

‘Here, give me that.’ Jack reached down and took the load from her, his fingers brushing hers.

Instant heat sizzled up her arms. Clenching her hands at her sides, she spoke too loudly. ‘Thanks. It goes—’

‘Over there by the stretcher,’ Jack finished with a growl, his eyebrows nearly meeting in the middle of his forehead. His gaze appeared stuck on a spot behind her head while shock flicked through his eyes. So he’d felt the same sparks too. The sparks that made everything so much more difficult.

‘Glad you’ve got it sussed.’ It was important. If any equipment got put away in the wrong place, it could delay things in an emergency.

‘It’s not rocket science.’ A glint in his eye warned her he wasn’t happy with her telling him anything about the helicopter.

‘You didn’t used to be so touchy.’ But he had touched her often.

Jack dropped down beside her, and unsure of him, she tensed, waiting for him to bawl her out, ready to meet him head on. Instead he stole the breath from her by saying, ‘So, a paramedic, eh? Did you ever finish your nursing certificate?’

‘Advanced paramedic, actually.’

‘Sorry, advanced paramedic.’ His eyebrows rose. ‘That’s fantastic. I’m glad you qualified. You certainly have the smarts.’

She straightened a little at his compliment. ‘Yes, I did finish the year on the wards required to finalise my nurse’s practising certificate.’ She’d worked extremely hard to get all her qualifications. Not being satisfied with a pass, she’d aimed for the highest grades possible. That had been the first good turning point in her life. Jack could raise his eyebrows all he liked but he wouldn’t dent her pride in her accomplishments. ‘I trained on the ambulances in San Francisco. Then during the last four months there I took a rotation on the rescue helicopters, which stood me in good stead for this job.’ She’d found her niche. Nothing, nobody would make her give it up. Not a bung knee. Definitely not Jack.

‘San Francisco, eh?’ His tone was acid and he stared straight ahead as they walked towards the hangar and the staffrooms.

Beside him she grinned, refusing to be intimidated by his attitude. He might think he still knew her but, boy, oh, boy, he didn’t have a clue. She’d returned to Wellington, this time permanently. This was the first city in a long line of cities that she’d come back to. Might as well get some of the details out of the way, let him have his ‘I told you so’ moment. ‘I started in Seattle, then went to Vancouver. I really loved Canada but couldn’t get a job without a work permit. Back in the States I headed down to Kansas, LA, San Diego and finally San Francisco.’ She wasn’t going to enlighten him about her reasons for all that tripping around. Not yet anyway. Not unless they got past being mates. Which, right now, looked doubtful. Unfortunately.

‘When did you find time to fit in your training?’ Strong acid.

‘I lived in San Fran for two years, ample time to qualify. My nursing training put me ahead on the course when I started on the ambulance.’ And she’d focused entirely on her job, no sexy distractions anywhere in sight.

‘Two years in one spot?’ The acid sweetened up a little. ‘Did you ever come back here for a visit?’

‘No. Too busy.’ And, because they’d agreed their break-up was final, there’d been nothing, no one, to come back for.

‘Where are you living now?’

‘I bought a villa on Mount Victoria.’ Glancing sideways, she saw his eyebrows lift, his lips tighten, and she braced herself.

His words dripped sarcasm. ‘Don’t tell me you’re settling down? Not you. Come on, I bet you’ve still got that backpack in the corner of your wardrobe, waiting for the day you’ve had enough of Wellington.’

‘Long gone, fallen apart from overuse.’ Not a great testament to her reliability. But, ‘I’m renovating the house. It’s so out of date and colder than an iceberg now that winter’s here. The electricity and plumbing need completely redoing, not to mention the antiquated kitchen and a bathroom requiring a total refit.’ All of which were already guzzling up cash like a thirsty dog.

‘You haven’t exactly answered my question. How long do you think you’ll be around this time?’ His mouth was still tight, but his eyebrows were back in place. ‘You never showed any interest in owning a house. Too much of a tie, you reckoned, if I recall correctly.’

Which, of course, he did. But that had been aeons ago. And deep down she had wanted a home but fear of not being able to make a success of it had driven her to deny the need. What had she ever known about setting up a permanent home? Continuing to ignore his underlying disbelief, she said, ‘The villa’s eighty-nine years old, and showing its age. But I love it. There’s so much potential.’

‘Oh, right. You’ll be here until you’ve done the house up. A quick lick of paint? Some new carpet?’ He held the door to the staff kitchen open for her. ‘Can’t quite picture you as a house renovator.’

‘Give me a break. I’ve never had the opportunity before.’ And they both knew that had been her fault.

Behind her Dave piped up. ‘Ruby’s a dab hand at pulling down walls. You should see her swinging a hammer.’

‘That’s the best bit,’ she agreed, grateful for Dave’s support.

Jack peered down at her. ‘You do know what you’re doing, Ruby? Has a builder looked over your plans? Or are you leaping in feet first and knocking out parts of the house any old how? You could bring the roof down on your head if you take out a load-bearing wall.’

‘Tea or coffee?’ she asked sweetly, fighting the urge to hit him. Of course she knew what she was doing. ‘I have expert help.’ Chris had been a builder until he’d decided there had to be more excitement to life and learned to fly helicopters. He’d been more than happy to take a look at the house and tell her what she could and couldn’t do to it. He’d also put her in touch with a reliable draughtsman who fully understood her need to keep the house in period while modernising the essentials.

‘Coffee, thanks.’ Jack dropped onto a chair at the table. Questions still clouded his eyes.