The Surgeon's Marriage Demand

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She took a steadying breath. ‘I don’t want to argue with you either, but—’

‘So I think there’s only one thing we can do.’

Oh, cripes, he was going to hit on her, and it wouldn’t work, she knew it wouldn’t. OK, so he was jaw-droppingly attractive but she didn’t do casual relationships, and he didn’t do permanence, and though a fling with him might be fun—hell, of course it would be fun—the repercussions didn’t bear thinking about.

‘What…?’ Her voice had come out way too high, and she cleared her throat and started again. ‘What—exactly—did you have in mind?’

‘A truce.’

A truce. Not ‘Why don’t we have a wild passionate affair?’ but a truce. Well, of course she’d known deep down that he wasn’t going to suggest an affair. Good grief, they’d only known each other a week, and she wasn’t his type, but…

‘Sounds good to me,’ she said, suddenly realising he was waiting for a reply. ‘What sort of a truce did you have in mind?’

He leant back against the corridor wall. ‘That you agree I might occasionally be right because of the length of time I’ve worked here, and I agree you might occasionally be right because you’re seeing everything with fresh eyes.’

It made sense. It made a lot of sense. A niggling voice at the back of her head pointed out that he could still be up to something, but she decided to meet him halfway.

‘Agreed,’ she said.

He stuck out his hand. ‘Shake on it?’

Try as she may, she couldn’t prevent a chuckle springing to her lips. ‘Shake on it,’ she agreed, and put her hand in his.

It was a mistake. She knew the minute their fingers touched that it was a mistake. Her hand felt so safe in his. Safe, and warm, and protected, and any woman who thought she was safe with Seth Hardcastle needed her head examined. He was breath-taking sex on legs, and trouble and heartache, and she’d had more than enough trouble and heartache to last her a lifetime.

But not enough breath-taking sex, her body whispered. Sex with Phil had been dull and unsatisfying, whereas sex with Seth…No, she wasn’t even going to speculate about what sex with Seth would be like, and quickly she eased her fingers free from his, praying her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

‘I have to go. George—’

‘Ah, yes. I’d forgotten about George.’

His voice sounded oddly flat, and she wondered if he didn’t like dogs. Phil hadn’t. He’d pretended to like George, and George had pretended to like him, and then she’d discovered Phil had only been pretending to love her and her marriage had ended.

‘I really must go,’ she said, backing up a step.

‘I must, too,’ he replied, not moving at all.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ she mumbled, and he nodded, and she walked briskly down the corridor.

I am not going to look back, she told herself. Looking back is what teenagers do when they’re desperate to know whether the boy they’re interested in might be interested in them so I’m not going to look back.

But she did.

Just as she pushed open the door leading to the car park she glanced over her shoulder, and he was still there, still watching her, and his face creased into a smile. A smile that had her smiling back like some dippy, moonstruck, sixteen-year-old. A smile that had her heart doing a happy quick-step. As she stepped out into the open air, she muttered out loud to nobody in particular, ‘Oh, damn.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘SO I’M looking at this two-month-old baby who’s covered in greenish-yellow vomit, and my brain’s working overtime,’ Seth declared as he spooned some coffee into a mug. ‘Could it have a strangulated hernia, Crohn’s disease, or maybe the child’s suffering from inflammatory bowel disease?’

‘And what was wrong?’ Olivia asked, knowing full well from the twinkle in Seth’s blue eyes that the baby hadn’t been suffering from any of the conditions he’d mentioned.

‘It transpires that forgetful Mum ran out of baby formula, so what does clueless Dad suggest? That banana and kiwi milkshake would make a good alternative. Frankly, I think adoption would be a better alternative for the poor mite, but unfortunately it’s not an option.’

Olivia spluttered with laughter. ‘What age were these idiots?’

‘Eighteen, but as we all know only too well neither age nor social class count when it comes to full-blown idiocy,’ Seth replied as he carried his cup of coffee across the staff-room and sat down. ‘Jerry, do you remember that kid who suffered third-degree burns after she poked a knitting needle into a wall socket? Turned out she’d done it dozens of times before but her middle-class, middle-aged parents hadn’t installed socket plugs because they didn’t want to stunt her creativity.’

Jerry nodded as he bit into his sandwich. ‘My favourite’s still the kid who stuck his grandma’s hearing aid up his bum, and when we got it back Grandma lodged a formal complaint because it didn’t work any more.’

‘You’re kidding?’ Olivia gasped, and Seth laughed.

‘You should know better than that.’

She did, but as she joined in his laughter, all she could think was how wonderful it was to be able to laugh with him. Their truce had been in place now for over a week, and it had made such a difference to be able to talk to him without arguing all the time.

That’s not the only thing you find wonderful, her body whispered as Seth leant forward to select a biscuit and his shirt tightened across his chest.

Oh, grow up, she told herself, taking a deep gulp of her coffee and an even bigger lungful of air. OK, so he’s seriously attractive, and the thought of jumping into bed with him is making you hyperventilate, but just because he’s smiling at you it doesn’t mean he wants you, and if he did, what then? You’re not into casual sex, remember.

No, but I’d be prepared to make an exception for this man, her body sighed as Seth’s shirt got tighter and she felt a warm heat spreading through her stomach which had nothing to do with the coffee.

Yeah, right, her brain jeered. Big talk from a woman who was a virgin when she got married. Your life hasn’t exactly been a walk on the wild side, has it, so what could you offer a man like Seth that he hasn’t had probably hundreds of times before, and considerably better?

‘Something wrong?’

Seth’s eyes were on her, puzzled, curious, and she managed a smile. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Dangerous occupation, thinking,’ Jerry observed. ‘A person can get into all sorts of trouble doing that.’

Tell me about it, Olivia thought ruefully. She uncurled her legs and stood up. ‘I have to go. I’ve a meeting with Admin in fifteen minutes.’

‘Is it about the whiteboard?’ Seth said hopefully, and she shook her head.

‘I told you before, that it wasn’t my decision—or even theirs—to take it down. It’s a county-wide ruling.’

‘It’s still a stupid one,’ he muttered, and she nodded.

‘I agree, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’ She carried her coffee-cup across to the sink, then cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘I thought I might ask if we could have the waiting room redecorated.’

She waited for the eruption to come, but it didn’t. Seth simply shook his head and said, ‘If you can screw any money out of Admin, I’d vote for spending it on some new medical equipment.’

‘I don’t think it’s a question of either-or,’ she protested, and a wry smile curved his lips.

‘Then you don’t know Admin. A and E ranks somewhere around the level of Chiropody when it comes to funding.’

Why hadn’t he told her that before? She wouldn’t have chewed his head off if he’d only told her that before. Slowly she rinsed her cup, then came to a decision. ‘Make me a list of everything you think the department needs.’

Seth put down his coffee-cup with a clatter. ‘Are you kidding?’

She smiled. ‘There’s two things I never joke about. Departmental funding and religion.’ She checked her watch. ‘My meeting’s at two o’clock and I need to collect some papers from my office. You’ve ten minutes to draft a list. If you haven’t finished by the time I get back…’

‘I’ll be finished,’ he replied, tearing a sheet of paper from his notebook, and she laughed and shook her head as she went out the door.

Jerry didn’t laugh. He sat back in his seat and stared at Seth thoughtfully. ‘Told you she was nice, didn’t I?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Olivia. I said she was nice.’

‘So you did,’ Seth murmured, his pen flashing across the sheet of paper.

‘And I think she likes you.’

Seth glanced up. ‘Forget it, Jerry.’

The specialist registrar looked innocent. ‘Forget what?’

‘The matchmaking.’

‘I’m not—’

‘Yes, you are,’ Seth said firmly, ‘and there’s no way on God’s earth that I’m ever going to ask Olivia Mackenzie out. Number one, she’s my boss and I’ve no intention of dating my boss. Number two, she’s already in a relationship and I don’t poach other men’s women.’

‘Yes, but—Oh, blast,’ Jerry groaned as his pager went off. ‘Why do I never get to finish either an argument or a coffee?’

‘Think of the good it’s doing your heart and your arteries.’ Seth grinned, but his smile disappeared when the specialist registrar had gone.

Jerry meant well—he knew he did—but there was a third and even more important reason why he would never ask Olivia out. It was obvious that she was a settling-down sort of a woman, and he didn’t want to settle down—not now, not ever.

OK, she was attractive, with the kind of thick curly brown hair that made a man’s fingers itch to release it from the confines of the scrunchie she always wore, and she had a pair of soft luminous brown eyes which occasionally made him forget what he’d been about to say, but settling down was for the brain dead. Settling down meant the end of freedom, the end of excitement, the end of everything.

‘Have you finished your list?’

He glanced over his shoulder. Olivia was standing in the doorway of the staffroom, her hair gleaming like a halo in the late September sunlight, and for a weird second he felt an inexplicable tightening in his throat.

‘Seth, I said, have you—?’

‘I…I’ve come up with eight suggestions,’ he interrupted, pulling himself together quickly.

‘Only eight?’

Oh, damn, now she was smiling at him. Smiling that smile he hadn’t seen since the day he’d first met her, and for a moment he wondered if it would be such a mistake to ask her out. She was single, he was single. OK, she had a George, but…

She’s home-made bread, and you’re Japanese sushi. She’s self-catering holidays with the kids in Cornwall, and you’re sky-diving in Brazil. She may have great legs and a sensational smile, but those are lousy reasons for getting involved with a settling-down sort of woman. Especially when that settling-down sort of woman is also your boss.

‘I was only joking, Seth.’

Concern had replaced the amusement on her face, and he forced a smile. ‘I was just wondering what else I could add,’ he lied, and saw her smile return.

‘Don’t push your luck.’ She scanned the sheet of paper and let out a low whistle. ‘Seth, these are all very expensive pieces of equipment.’