Maternal Instinct
Autor
Caroline Anderson
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Made to be a mother. If Eve Spicer was looking for a man, obstetric consultant Hugh Douglas would be almost perfect. He's kind, handsome and skilled with the mothers and babies, whose lives he saves every day. But Eve isn't looking! And she can't take on Hugh's kids, however much she might one day want a family of her own. She has a career to build and promises to keep. No, her irresistible boss is firmly off-limits. That's what Eve's head tells her. Unfortunately, her heart, her body and her every instinct disagree.
CHAPTER ONE
HE KNEW who she was straight away.
The formal suit, the neat court shoesâthey stood out a mile among the relatives in their casual clothes and the hospital staff in their scrubs and tunics and white coats. If that wasnât enough, the set of her shoulders and the distracted way she was staring out of the landing window while her teeth raked that soft, full lower lip were dead giveaways.
She was a nice-looking girl, he thought irrelevantly. Pretty.
Well, no, probably not pretty in the conventional sense, because her nose was a little crooked and her chin a little too firm, at least from that angle, but she was certainly interesting. She interested Hugh, anyway, and as he climbed the last three stairs he was able to study her for a moment, undetected.
Mmm. Very interesting. Slender, elegantâand not nearly as composed as she would have liked to be, heâd bet his life.
He ought to walk past her, say âGood morningâ politely and go and start the process, but for some reason he paused, fascinated by the way she caught the side of her bottom lip in her teeth again and worried it gently as she stared into the distance.
âInterview?â he murmured, even though he knew the answer.
His voice startled her, and she looked towards him, her eyes scanning the area as if to check that he really was talking to her. Those soft grey eyes, thoughtful and wary, flicked over his suit and back to his face, checking him out. âYes. You, too?â
He nodded slowly. Well, it wasnât really a lieâŠ
âA fellow victim,â she said with a rueful grin, before honesty could raise its head. âIâm Eve Spicer.â
She held out her hand, and he took it. It was slim and cool, her handshake firm despite the slight tremor he could feel in her arm.
For some reason he didnât want to examine, he withheld his name, just smiled and held her hand slightly longer than was strictly necessary before releasing it, dragging out the subterfuge a moment longer. âGood to meet you, Eve,â he said.
Her pretty mouth twisted wryly, that bottom lip a little pinker where sheâd nibbled it. âI wish I could say it was mutual, but if weâre after the same job I think Iâm screwed.â
He felt his brows twitch together at her refreshing honesty, and guilt tugged harder at him but, instead of coming clean, he found himself asking, âWhy?â
Her smile became rueful. âBecause Iâve lost the last two jobs to a man. It might be coincidence but, whatever, itâs beginning to be a habit.â
âHabits can be broken. Perhaps itâll be third time lucky.â
She gave a little shrug, frustration showing in the line of her shoulders. âMaybe. Iâm beginning to wonder if Iâm doing something wrong in my interviews. Perhaps it wonât matter so much for a temporary postâor am I deluding myself? Seem to do a lot of that these days, but I really want this job, even though itâs only covering sick leave, because I know someone who was his SHO last year, and she said Hugh Douglas is wonderful to work with and a brilliant teacher. She learnt so much from him.â
Wonderful? Brilliant? He squashed his ego back into its box and wondered to whom he owed this amazing PR. Probably Kate. Heâd have to thank her. âIâm sure you canât be doing anything too badly wrong,â he said with another twinge of guilt.
She sighed. âOh, I wouldnât be too sure. I think Iâm just too honest, but at least Iâll stand or fall on my own merits, and if anybody gives me a job, theyâll know what theyâre getting. Trouble, probably!â
Her laugh was a little too taut, and the remark puzzled him, but he was distracted by her hand sliding over her hair, nervously checking that it was in place, scraped back against her well-shaped head and twisted into a knot skewered with what looked for all the world like a pair of short chopsticks.
He wondered what would happen if he pulled them out, if the sleek, glossy hair with its paler streaks of gold would fall down round her shoulders in a shimmering curtain, or if it would curl rebelliously. Curl, he thought hopefully, but he was distracted again by her hand moving down, straightening the lapel of her jacket, tugging at her skirt as if to lengthen it. The hem skimmed her slender, shapely knees, and he felt a little surge of jealousy that it wasnât his hand running over her thigh like thatâŠ
Good grief. What was happening to him? He hadnât reacted like this to a woman in years.
âYou look fine,â he said hastily. âStop worrying. Very chic and professional. I have to go, theyâll be waiting for me. Just remember to smile.â
âThanks. Good luck.â She grinned a little off-kilter, her eyes slightly less wary, and then, just as he turned to go, she threw him a curve.
âWould you give me the job?â she asked, and this time he couldnât lie. He felt his mouth tug into a smile.
âAbsolutely.â
Bless his heart, she thought ruefully. If only!
He waggled his fingers at her, turned and strode down the corridor, palming the double doors out of the way as she watched him go. She triedâshe really triedâto wish him positive vibes, but it was hard. She wanted this job so much and he was, after all, her competition.
But then the door at the end of the corridor opened, and she heard a manâs voiceâthe great Mr Douglas?âsay casually, âHi, there. Good of you to join us.â
She didnât hear his reply, because the door swooshed shut behind him, but sheâd heard enough. She turned back to the window, staring out over the car park and the trees in the distance, her optimism fading even further. He knew them. No wonder heâd gone breezing down there without a care in the world, whereas she was hovering out here, a bundle of nerves.
âDr Spicer? Could you come through?â
So soon? It must be just a formality, then, a foregone conclusion. Damn, damn and double damn.
She nearly told the secretary, Maggie, that she wouldnât waste their time, but Maggie smiled at her and held the door, and that didnât seem to leave her a lot of choice.
Oh, well, it couldnât get worse than being told she hadnât got it. She straightened her shoulders, swallowed hard and dredged around for an answering smile. Not easy, but she managed it, and even hung on to it until Maggie opened the door and she was ushered in, but then it failed her.
There were three of them, two men, one woman, seated around a table, and there was one empty chair.
âDr Spicer, thank you for joining us,â the woman at the head of the table was saying, but she wasnât really listening, because there, on the left of the empty chair, was her fellow interviewee, getting to his feet with lazy grace and smiling at her.
She would have thought theyâd show him out first, give her the dignity of a private rejectionâbut then he walked towards her, his hand outstretched and his smiled tinged with apology, and said, âHugh Douglas. Welcome to the Audley Memorial Hospital, Dr Spicer,â and she wasnât sure whether to cry or hit him.
His hand was still extended, and for a moment she contemplated ignoring it and slapping him instead. Only for a moment, thoughâjust long enough to make him think.
Then tipping back her head and meeting his eyes again with a look that should have fried his eyeballs, she said, softly but clearly, âWell. Fancy meeting you here, Mr Douglas.â And instead of slapping that guilty, handsome face, she placed her hand in his for the second time that morning.
His fingers closed around hers and his mouth twitched. âIâm sorry. I owe you an apology.â
âI think so. I donât like being made a fool ofâand I hate being lied to.â
Her voice was deathly quiet, and his reply was just as quiet. âI donât recall making a fool of you, Eveâand I didnât lie, exactly. I meant every word I said.â
She extracted her hand from his. âEvery word?â Even the bit about giving her the job? But his smile had faded and his eyes were utterly sincere.
âAbsolutely,â he repeated. Funny, it was harder to believe him this time, no matter how much she might want to.
âIâm sorry, have we missed something?â The woman at the head of the table interrupted their soft-voiced exchange. âDo you two know each other? Because if thereâs a conflict of interest here, Mr Douglas, we ought to know.â
âNo conflict, Julia,â he said easily. âWe met a few moments ago at the top of the stairs. I wasnât perhaps quite fair with her about my identity. Hopefully she wonât hold it against me.â
Eve felt her eyes drawn to him againâthe lean, muscled frame that did incredible things to his understated charcoal-grey suit, the warmth in his toffee-brown eyes, the teasing smile that played at the corners of his mouthâand refused to allow herself to contemplate holding anything against Hugh Douglasâleast of all herself!
âEve, allow me to introduce you to my colleagues,â he went on smoothly. âDr Julia Fry, our fertility expert, and Sam Gregory, another of the obs and gynae consultants.â
She shook their hands, noting that Juliaâs was cool and hardâcuriously like her eyesâand that Samâs was warm and firm and matched his smile.
So it was Julia she was going to have to convince.
Hugh Douglas drew out her chair, turned the full wattage of his charm on her with a smile that made her knees go weak and slid the chair in behind her in the nick of time, bending so his breath whispered over the nape of her neck.
âBreak a leg,â he murmured, so low that only she could hear it, and she wondered if he realised it wasnât her leg she was contemplating breaking!
As he hooked his own chair back in behind him and sat down again, she took a steadying breath, smiled again and swept her eyes around the table, wondering who was going to start.
She didnât have long to wait. âThank you for seeing us at such short notice,â Hugh Douglas said, and she turned to him, her smile taking on a cynical twist that she could feel but couldnât control.
âNo problem. As youâll be aware, Iâm not in a post at the momentââ
âNo, I noticed that in your CV,â Julia Fry said, her expression chilly, as if she still didnât quite trust what was going on. As you know, we only have the post because the person weâd appointed has had an accident and is on long-term sick leave, but we werenât expecting to find anyone of the right calibre able to take it on at such short notice. Perhaps you could explain your immediate availability, Dr Spicer?â
Here we go, she thought, and swallowed discreetly. âI shouldnât have been available. I was offered a post, but the offer was subsequently withdrawn just before I was due to start, so I missed the February rotation start dateâhence Iâm applying for locum posts.â
âWhy was the offer withdrawn?â That was Sam Gregory coming in unexpectedly, studying her over his steepled fingers, asking the very question sheâd fruitlessly hoped to avoid, but his eyes were kind and his tone encouraging.
âIt wasâŠpersonal.â
âI think we have a right to an explanation, if you wish us to consider your application seriously, Dr Spicer,â Julia Fry said without a trace of warmth, and Eveâs heart sank. âIt is, after all, almost April and youâre still without a job.â
Eve met Juliaâs eyes full on and sighed softly, resigning herself to another lost opportunity, another interview down the pan. âOf course. He was a friend of my fatherâs. He has a good reputation as a surgeon, and that was why Iâd applied. However, he also has a reputation as a womaniser, but Iâd fondly imagined that his relationship with my father might protect me from that. Apparently not. I complained to him, and he withdrew the offer. Said I was a troublemaker.â
âAnd are you?â
âNo. Not if my colleagues donât grope me uninvited.â
There was a grunt of laughter from her left, quickly stifled, and she was aware of Sam shifting, leaning back, relaxing and enjoying the moment.
She wished she had that luxury, but Juliaâs eyes sharpened and she shot a look at Hugh that should have withered him.
Apparently he was made of sterner stuff. âI can promise you that wonât happen here, Dr Spicer,â he cut in. âWhatever the reason, their loss is our gain and youâre available.â Leaning forward, the laughter slowly fading from his eyes to be replaced by something much more searching, he continued, âNow, earlier you said youâd get this job on your own merits and if anyone gave you a job theyâd know what they were getting. So, Dr Spicer, what would we be getting?â Apart from trouble, he could have added, and she wanted to shoot herself for having been quite so horribly honest earlier.
She wondered if heâd even remembered her saying it, but one look into his twinkling eyes and she knew perfectly well that he did. Oh, damn.
She couldnât allow herself to be distracted by his mischievous smile or that wicked twinkle in his warm brown eyes. He was as devious as a snake, albeit a sexy, well-made and highly desirable snake, but he held her future in his hands, and she couldnât afford to lose this opportunity, so she sucked in a deep breath and launched on her sales pitch.
âDedication,â she said. âConcentration, attention to detail, a willingness to learn, good basic surgical skills and a sound foundation. I like people, I try and get on with them, and Iâm good at assessing situations quickly. My diagnostic skills are showing promise, and although I havenât done very much in the way of obstetrics, Iâve prepared for it with a great deal of reading and Iâm keen to get some hands-on experience to back it up. Iâm not always a very good judge of character, though, and I tend to be a little too trusting, but Iâm working on that.â
She met Hughâs eyes and he had the grace to look uncomfortable, but he didnât look away. She had to give him credit for that.
âThat was slickâit sounds as if youâve had a great deal of interview practice,â Julia put in, breaking the rather awkward silence.
Eve felt the barb sink in.
âUnfortunately, rather more than I would have liked,â she said honestly, and she caught a gleam of approval in Hughâs eye.
âNothing wrong with being prepared,â Sam said, defending her unexpectedly, and Julia gave him a chilling look before turning back to continue her grilling.
âAnd where do you see yourself in the future?â she went on, looking broadly unimpressed by all of them.
âAs a consultant at thirty-two,â Eve said, going for broke. If she could ever get off the interview bandwagonâŠ
âSoâa career doctor. In obstetrics?â
âOr a related field, yes.â
âWhy obstetrics?â Sam asked, and she felt herself relax a little. This she knew.
âBecause the patients tend to be well, and youâre helping them do something that comes naturally. That has to be a refreshing change from general surgery, which was my last rotation. And I love babies.â
âSo why not midwifery instead of medicine?â Julia asked. âWe tend to see women when things go wrong. Have you thought of that? In my job I see women because things arenât happening naturally, and I know many of our maternity patients are less than well.â
âOf courseâand part of the job, surely, is to put that right as much as possible so they can have the families they want.â
âBut it doesnât always work.â
âWell, it canât work at all if there arenât doctors doing it,â she retorted, and she saw Samâs mouth tilt into an approving smile.
Hugh was looking thoughtful, though. âSo much for obstetrics. What about gynae?â he asked. âIf you donât like sick people, you may not like gynae, and the two disciplines tend to go hand in hand. I wonder if youâve considered that deeply enough.â
âAbsolutely!â she protested, mentally kicking herself. Sheâd walked into that one with her eyes wide open, and now they thought she didnât like medicine! âAnd I didnât say I didnât like sick people. Thatâs the other side of the coin, and why I went into medicine. Why I would choose this branch over any other is because it can bring so much joy into peopleâs lives, and if I can be a part of that, I donât see that itâs anything to apologise for. And for the record I definitely see myself as a doctor and not as a midwife. I havenât spent the last ten years getting to this point to realise Iâm barking up the wrong tree so, please, donât imagine that.â
âHave you ever lost a patient, Dr Spicer?â Julia cut in. âBecause, in our field, if you arenât careful, you can easily lose two, and I wonder if youâre tough enough to take that. Are you sure this area of medicine is what you really want to be doing with your life, or would you actually be better headed for general practice?â
Oh, lord, the woman definitely hated her, and Hugh thought she was a silly little optimist. Damn. Resigning herself to failureâagainâshe tried to find an intelligent and comprehensive answer, and wondered how long theyâd torture her before they told her someone else was getting the job.
âI think we should give her the post.â
âWhat about Dr Meadows?â Julia said. âHe was good.â
âDavid Meadows was arrogant and opinionated. Eve Spicer isnât arrogant.â
âWe all know what you see in her, Hugh,â Julia said a touch shrewishly, and he had to bite his tongue. Ever since sheâd come on to him six months ago and heâd gently but firmly turned her down, sheâd been distinctly chilly towards him. This time, though, he wasnât going to make any concessions to her hurt pride. It was his post, his registrarâs job, and he had the final say. Besides, he could still hear Eve saying sheâd lost the last two posts to a man. Well, not this time, not if he had anything to do with itâand he did.
âI want her,â he said, meeting Juliaâs eyes straight on, âand I intend to have her.â
âI donât doubt it,â Sam murmured, just too low for Julia to catch, but she shot him a quelling look nonetheless.
âOh, well, be it on your own head. I donât think she had enough confidence but, no doubt, with your hand to guide her, sheâll come on in leaps and bounds. Her last post seems to have gone well, and her references are certainly excellent, but Iâm concerned about her attitude to sick people. I hope she doesnât think this is going to be all cooing babies and happy mums, because sheâs in for a rude shock. And Iâm also worried about this sexual harassment thing. Just make sure your hands are only guiding her surgical skills.â
âI donât think we need to worry about that,â he said bluntly. âI donât mix business with pleasureâas you well know.â
The remark hit home, and Julia sucked in her breath. Sam looked away, and Julia glared at Hugh, shoved back her chair and stood up, her furious eyes skewering him. Hell hath no fury, he thought, and braced himself, but it was a dignified if ruffled retreat. For now.
Her voice was crisp. âWell, youâve obviously made your mind up. Have her if you want her. I just hope you donât regret it.â
âI do want herâand I wonât regret it,â he said, hoping to heaven he was right, and turned to Sam. âIf you agree?â
âExcellent choice,â Sam said, not bothering to hide his smile. âI liked her, tooânice, uncomplicated girl, and her academic record is stunning. If her practical skills match up sheâll do well, I think.â
âI think so. Iâll go and call her inâand Iâll try and resist the urge to grope her on the way back,â he said drily, drawing a huff of outrage from Julia which he ignored with the ease of long practice.
He stood up, opened the door and forced himself to walk slowly down the corridor. He pushed the door open, caught Eve staring nervously out over the car park with her hands locked together, and as she turned, he felt desire kick him firmly and unexpectedly in the groin.
âDr Spicer?â
âI know,â she said, her eyes resigned. âYou would have given me the job, but it was out of your handsâŠâ
He grinned, taken with her honesty, which managed to struggle to the surface despite the nerves. He admired that immensely. Real guts. âNot at all,â he hastened to assure her. âIf you want the job, itâs yoursâbut youâd better come back and let Julia Fry make you the offer, or sheâll get all bent out of shape and we couldnât have that, now, could we?â
Her jaw dropped. âMe?â she whispered, then her voice changed to a little shriek and she threw herself into his arms andâhugged him!
Dammit, she actually hugged him, pressing that delectable little body firmly up against his and squeezing the life out of him. So much for sexual harassment! Then abruptly she let him go, coloured furiously and pressed her hands to her face.
âOh, Iâm so sorry! I canât believe I did that.â
âForget it,â he said, wondering if he ever would, but her eyes were searching his as if it still hadnât sunk in.
âAre you sure? Really? I got the job?â
Her eyes were sparkling with tears of joy, and he had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep the smile in. âReally, Eve. If you can do it at such short notice, weâd like you to start on Monday.â
âMonday! Oh, thank you so much! Oh, good grief! I canât believe it, especially after that rubbish about liking obs because people are well. You must think Iâm a complete airheadâI canât believe you still want me.â
âOh, we still want you,â he said, wondering if it was as obvious as it felt.
âYou wonât be sorry. I promise I wonât let you down.â
âIâm sure you wonât,â he said, his own smile refusing to stay trapped in the face of such enthusiasm. âCome on, letâs go and do this properly.â
He ushered her through the door, manfully resisting the urge to put his hand on that delicate hollow in the small of her back and wondered how in the hell he was going to keep his hands to himself while he was working with her. No wonder the old professor had succumbed to temptation. The woman was enough to tempt a saint, and Hugh hadnât been a saint in his entire life. He was just too busy to do anything about it, and now was certainly not the time!
Eve couldnât believe sheâd done that!
Flung her arms round him and hugged him, for goodnessâ sake!
Madness. Of all the undignified, stupid things to doâbut it hadnât been the great Hugh Douglas sheâd been hugging it had been the man sheâd met before, the man whoâd smiled at her and put her at her ease, whoâd said heâd give her the jobâand had, bless his heart.
And all that talk about the professor groping her, and sheâd gone and flung her arms round him and squashed herself all over him like a rash!
She groaned inwardly, wondering if it was too late for him to change his mind because of her stupidity, but he didnât seem inclined to dither, just strode down the corridor, ushered her back into the room and stood there without contradicting while Julia offered her the job and welcomed her to the department.
So it was real.
She couldnât believe it. Sheâd actually got the job! Even if it wasnât a unanimous verdict, which it clearly wasnât. Julia, summoning a smile that was meant to be welcoming but failed, shook her hand and congratulated her.
Sam, warm, generous and much more genuine in his welcome, did the same.
And then Hugh pulled his bleep out of his pocket, frowned at it and excused himself.
âSo, Dr Spicerâwill you be able to start on Monday?â Julia asked, and Eve nodded.
âYes. Itâll be a bit of a rush, but so long as I can sort accommodationââ
âYou can stay with us for a bit if necessary,â Sam volunteered. âIf you can stand the kids. Iâll prime Molly to look out for you, so you can meet her. Sheâs a midwife in the department. Sheâs easy to spotâsheâs waddling at the moment.â
âWaddling?â
âThirty-four weeks down, six to go.â
âAh,â she said, answering his wry smile. âThat kind of waddling.â
The door opened and closed behind her, and without preamble Hugh said, âEve, what are you doing now?â
âI donât knowânothing. Why?â she asked, puzzled. Was this his way of dismissing her?
Apparently not. âMy SHOâs off sick and my specialist registrarâs running my antenatal clinic. Heâs just seen one of my mums and heâs worriedâquery antepartum haemorrhage from a placenta previa. Heâs sending her up to Theatre as a precaution and I need to get up there fast. If I have to do a section Iâll need an assistant and heâs up to his eyes. Want to scrub in and help me?â
She felt her eyes widen. âMe?â
âIf you have time.â
She swallowed, then nodded. âUmâŠsure. I only put two hours on my car park ticket, though.â
âDonât worry about that. Itâll be fine. Come onâwe need to hurry.â
âWhat about insurance and stuff? I mean, Iâm not on contract till Monday.â
âHugh, this is most irregular.â
âYou want the baby to die, Julia? Sam, fix it, please. Locum or something?â
âConsider it done,â Sam said, and that was that.
Hugh whisked her up to the theatre suite, threw a set of theatre blues at her and pointed her towards the female changing room. Then, without bothering to move, he stripped off his clothes and tugged on the scrubs right then and there.
Oh, boy. She tried not to look. She really, really tried not to look, but he was just too gorgeous to miss, all that hard, lean muscle and his legsâoh, lord, his legsâŠ
âBoots or clogs are over here, help yourself to any that havenât got a name on. Hereâhave a locker for your things,â he said, pointing out a spare one, and she forgot about his body and shot into the changing room, ridding herself of the strangling suit and hated tights and diving into the top, pulling up the trousers of the scrubs, tightening the drawstring with fingers that were starting to tremble.
Was this op part of the interview? she wondered as she stuffed her clothes into the locker. Another sneaky, devious test, like their little chat at the top of the stairs? No. Sheâd been offered the job. They couldnât take it away, could they? Although the professor had, but sheâd been on the point of lodging an official complaint about him, so it hadnât been surprising.
As for the pre-interview subterfuge, she was still contemplating whether or not to forgive Hugh when their patient was wheeled in, eyes fearful even though she was clearly trying not to panic, and Eve forgot all about it, her attention totally engaged by the way he soothed and calmed his patient with his gentle manner and a few reassuring words.
âTrying to keep me on my toes, Jeannie?â he said with a wry grin, his hands already moving over her, asking for details, nodding as he heard them.
Her pulse was up, her blood pressure down, she was on 100 per cent oxygen to help the baby and for now, at least, the little one seemed to be OK. They could hear the foetal heartbeat on the monitor, sounding very fast to Eveâs ears, and the monitor showed the heart rate to be over 150. The baby was tachycardic, and if it wasnât delivered soon, it would be in real trouble. At thirty-seven weeks it was certainly viable and would probably be fine without any extra help or supportâso long as they could get it out soon enough.
Eve watched Hugh examine the patient quickly, confirming what they already knew from the information heâd been given, then he straightened up, the womanâs hand in his.
âOK, Jeannie, letâs get this baby out for you now. Paul, Iâm sorry, youâre going to have to wait outside, but it wonât be long and weâll bring the baby out to you as soon as possible.â
The husband nodded nervously, and as the anaesthetist started to work on Jeannie, Hugh scrubbed, held his arms out for the gown, snapped on his gloves and headed for the operating room, with Eve scarcely a second behind him.
âRight, letâs move,â he said. âKnife?â
Jeannie was draped and ready, and with the first slice of the blade Eve felt the tension rise.
âThis shouldnât be too hard, because the placentaâs lying against the back wall, so at least I wonât have to go through itâOK, suction pleaseâEve, can you hold the retractors? Thank you. Fundal pressure, please.â
And in a whoosh of blood and amniotic fluid he eased the baby out and handed her to the waiting neonatal team, clamping and cutting the cord without delay. As the baby was carried off, a furious little wail from her brought a sigh of relief from everyone.
Except Hugh. He was stern-faced and silent, bar the odd snapped instruction for syntocinon or suction, and as Eve assisted he scooped out the placenta, dropped it in a bowl and the well of blood slowed to a trickle.
Then he let his breath out on a sigh, his shoulders dropped and he grinned, his eyes crinkling over his mask.
âThatâs got it,â he said, and everyone relaxed.
Everyone, that is, except Eve, because with the next breath he said, âOK. Iâm happy with that. You can close. Letâs see your suturing at first hand. This is Eve, by the way, everybody. My new registrar. Dr Spicer, meet the team.â
There were a few polite murmurs of welcome, and that was it. In at the deep end. But he kept his mouth shut for the most part while she sutured, and she forgot about him after the first couple of stitches and just got on with it, following his suggestions for the kind of closure to use for each layer. Finally she was done.
âWell done, very neat,â he said as she snipped the last suture. She looked up into his gorgeous brown eyes and they locked with hers and she was suddenly thrown into confusion, her smile fading. Something fierce and elemental and dangerous crackled between them, nearly taking her legs out from under her, and she wondered if she wouldnât have been safer with the old professorâs roaming hands.
Then he stepped back, tugged off his gloves and mask, dropped them in the bin with his gown and turned to her with a smile, his eyes back to normal so she wondered if sheâd imagined it.
âCome on. Letâs go and see the proud father and have a look at this baby. Then I owe you lunchâand since I havenât even had breakfast yet, I wonât take no for an answer.â
Oh, yes. Much, much safer with the old professor. Apart from anything else, she could outrun him, and she had a horrible feeling that the only direction she wanted to run in with Hugh was straight back into his arms!
And there was no way on Godâs green earth that that was going to happen.
