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Partners By Contract
KIM LAWRENCE
The unforgettable Dr Carlyle…Dr Phoebe Miller was settling in well to her new practice - until senior partner Dr Connor Carlyle returned from his holiday and sparks began to fly between them! The tension wasn't just professional: it was definitely personal…Conno was Phoebe's first love, but years ago she'd been forced to accept he was bound to another woman. Her sister. Connor was now free, though, and he wasn't letting Phoebe disappear from his life again. He was determined to keep her as his partner at the practice - and for life!
‘I had no idea that you were the partner I was standing in for.’
‘And when you did…?’ Connor replied.
That was the question she’d been asking herself a lot. The fact was, some masochistic part of her hadn’t been able to resist a glimpse of the new life Con had built for himself.
‘Fair question,’ Phoebe admitted with a beleaguered shrug.
‘An honest answer to a fair question seems reasonable.’
‘I’ve already explained I thought I’d be long gone before you got back!’
Kim Lawrence lives on a farm in rural Anglesey. She runs two miles daily and finds this an excellent opportunity to unwind and seek inspiration for her writing! It also helps her keep up with her husband, two active sons, and the various stray animals which have adopted them. Always a fanatical consumer of fiction, she is now equally enthusiastic about writing. She loves a happy ending!
Kim has written almost twenty novels for our Modern Romance
series, where her contemporary, intensely emotional style has made her a rising star. With a background in nursing, Kim also has wonderful insight into the tensions and drama that can arise in a medical setting. Partners by Contract is Kim’s first novel for the Medical Romance
series, and we hope you enjoy it.
Recent titles by the same author:
A SEDUCTIVE REVENGE
A CONVENIENT HUSBAND
THE PROSPECTIVE WIFE
THE PLAYBOY’S MISTRESS
Partners by Contract
Kim Lawrence
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Chapter One (#u7ff16459-98fc-51bd-950e-90e15cb82955)
Chapter Two (#u1aa92e7e-bd76-5d62-beac-8382c85fb3a9)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘DO YOU believe in love at first sight?’
This dreamy question, inserted into a debate that had up to this point revolved around whether the current flu outbreak was going to reach epidemic proportions, brought an exchange of amused, indulgent looks from the other women who had gathered, coffee-mugs in hand, around Dr Phoebe Miller’s desk.
‘I don’t suppose there’s much point asking whether you do, Sally?’ Fran Green, the health visitor attached to the Hayfield Surgery, remarked dryly, pushing her mug aside and getting to her feet.
There was a general murmur of low-voiced laughter in response to this comment. Sally, the most junior receptionist to join the practice reluctantly withdrew her gaze from the brand-new diamond ring sparkling on her finger.
‘What?’ she demanded defensively, a self-conscious flush mounting the smooth contours of her attractive pointed pixie face. ‘It’s not my fault you’re all disgustingly cynical...’ She paused in mid complaint, mindful of practice manager Ellen Patterson’s recent warning that she needed to cultivate a more respectful attitude towards the medical staff. Not that it had ever seemed to her that anyone other than Ellen herself was bothered about such things.
In fact, Sally couldn’t help but reflect that Hayfield had been a much nicer and more relaxed place to work before the tall, statuesque blonde had returned from her winter holiday on the ski slopes.
Surgery nurse Grace Winston consulted the fob watch pinned to her ample bosom and swigged back the last dregs of her coffee. She gave the young girl a comforting pat on the shoulder as she, too, got to her feet.
‘The girl’s right, ladies. The truth is, Sally, my dear, we’re a bunch of spiteful old cows disgustingly jealous of you and your lovely Marty. You keep hold of your youthful ideals as long as you can,’ she recommended warmly, swiping the last chocolate biscuit off the plate. ‘Come along, Kate,’ she added, turning with a dramatic flourish to the student nurse she had in tow that morning. ‘Flu jabs await us.’
‘Good take-up for the flu vaccine this year, Grace?’ Fran asked, checking through her bag to see if she had all the notes she needed for her afternoon visits.
‘A lot better than last year...’
‘I do.’
The quietly spoken, dark-haired locum who was gazing through the window, a far-away look in her wide-spaced amber eyes, immediately became the focus of attention.
If that attention made Phoebe Miller feel self-conscious, she hid it better than the newly engaged eighteen-year-old. This wasn’t entirely surprising. After all, she’d had ten years more practice at doing so. Though when she looked at Sally, Phoebe found it hard to believe she’d ever been as dewy-eyed and idealistic as the young girl.
No, Phoebe had always been the realist in the family. She’d had enough common sense for both herself and her twin sister, Penny, which, given Penny’s impulsive nature, had been just as well! Occasionally, when she found herself doing or saying the sensible thing, Phoebe wondered if she’d been born cautious or had become that way out of necessity.
‘Do what, Phoebe?’
Phoebe tucked a section of dark shiny hair, which was inclined to escape the simple ponytail that confined her shoulder-length hair, behind her ear.
‘I believe in love at first sight,’ she mumbled reluctantly. Some things, she reflected uneasily, were better left unsaid.
Grace silently motioned the student nurse back from the door and eased her generously padded bottom back into a chair. ‘What was that you said, Phoebe?’
Phoebe gritted her teeth and smiled in the face of mounting embarrassment. She was well aware that Grace knew exactly what she’d said.
‘I believe in love at first sight!’ she responded in a belligerent, want-to-make-something-of-it manner that made the other women stare—as a rule, serene and unruffled best described the young GP.
How could Phoebe not believe in love at first sight when she’d seen it happen right under her nose? Even now, she still recalled the instant they’d come face to face—the chemistry had been instantaneous. The man who had been her flatmate and close friend for two years had taken one look at her identical twin and been smitten, and Penny, being Penny, hadn’t tried to hide the fact that she’d felt the same way, too.
If you want something, Phoebe, go for it, life’s too short, Penny had been fond of advising her more cautious sister. As it had turned out, it had been all too tragically true in Penny’s case—her life had been too short. The loss of her twin was still like an empty aching hole in the pit of Phoebe’s stomach. It was the sort of ache that you couldn’t prescribe anything for.
Phoebe doubted if either Penny or Connor had even noticed when she’d made some awkward excuse and left them alone—they’d only had eyes and ears for each other. Had anyone asked Phoebe, she couldn’t have told them a single thing about the film she’d sat through three consecutive times that evening. She’d had other things on her mind... Jealousy wasn’t a nice thing, but when the person you were jealous of was your twin it was a million times worse.
‘You?’
Sally’s incredulous response wrenched Phoebe clear of the painful memories. Her lips twitched, it was clear that she was the very last person in the world that Sally had expected support from.
How did the other girl see her? she speculated, for a moment trying to see herself through the young woman’s eyes. Too old, too cold? Maybe she was right on both counts, Phoebe reflected glumly. Compared to Sally, she felt extremely old indeed, and as for the other... A surreptitious glance around the room revealed to Phoebe that the other women were as flabbergasted as Sally by her claim, though not quite so transparently so.
‘I take it you’re speaking from personal experience?’ The irrepressible Grace voiced the question everyone else was aching to ask.
Not at first sight or even hundredth sight, for that matter! It had taken the sight of her twin sister falling very obviously in love to make Phoebe realise that she and Penny had had identical tastes in men—right down to falling in love with the same one! The difference had been that it hadn’t taken Penny three years to figure it out!
Grace’s eyes widened as, improbably, a faint but definite rush of colour heightened the pale, flawless complexion of their cool and collected locum.
‘Why, you dark horse, you. Who is he?’ she teased good-naturedly. ‘Anyone we know?’
Very well, as it happens, Phoebe could have said—but didn’t. Her dismayed eyes passed from one eager, expectant face to the next—it was pretty clear that there was no way they were going to let her escape without her offering up some sort of token explanation.
This is what you get for being enigmatic, Phoebe, she told herself dourly. At least enigmatic had been the way her colleagues had chosen to read her reserved silence on the subject of her love life. Her silence hadn’t been intended to keep a steamy love life private but to hide the shameful fact she didn’t have a love life! In the end all her silence had done had been to fuel their speculation.
‘It didn’t happen to me. I’m a bit slow in that department.’ A fleeting self-derisive smile flickered across her face. ‘But my sister fell in love at first sight,’ she explained quietly, recovering from her brief loss of control.
‘And was it requited?’ Grace persisted.
‘Extremely requited,’ Phoebe admitted, her normally mobile features very still.
Penny had been gone when she’d eventually returned to the flat that first night. Unaware of her presence, Connor had strolled into the living room, his blond hair tousled as if he’d just woken—or just finished making love? Phoebe had shut herself in her room and tortured herself a lot with imaginary details for the rest of that night and many more after that. The first chance she’d got she’d moved out of the flat, not caring if her excuse for the sudden departure had sounded lame.
‘How marvellous!’ Sally sighed. ‘Did they get married?’
‘The child still equates marriage with happy-ever-after,’ the recently divorced Fran Green contributed with a a jaundiced scowl. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.’
‘Yes, they did get married, Sally,’ Phoebe admitted, smiling at the girl.
Sally shot Fran a triumphant look. ‘And I bet they were blissfully happy! They were, weren’t they, Dr Miller?’
‘Until Penny died, yes.’
There was a painful silence.
‘I’m so sorry, Phoebe...’ Grace looked stricken, she loved a piece of juicy gossip, but she had a kind heart.
‘You weren’t to know,’ Phoebe responded, pinning on her best stoical smile. ‘And it was a long time ago,’ she added in an effort to lessen their collective embarrassment. ‘Now, I’d better get on with my visits or Ellen will be complaining I’m not pulling my weight,’ she said ruefully, rising gracefully to her feet and lifting the grey jacket of her trouser suit off the back of her chair.
‘Talking of which, Sally...’ She nodded tactfully towards the clock on the wall. Phoebe wasn’t the only person that could do nothing right in the critical eyes of the practice manager.
With a flustered exclamation the receptionist shot to her feet.
The other women were still smiling at the ludicrous idea of the industrious Dr Miller malingering. During the weeks she’d been at the practice Phoebe had established herself as a bit of a workaholic, as well as being nice.
Niceness notwithstanding, their practice manager seemed to have taken an instant dislike to her on her return the previous week, and had taken every opportunity to keep her in her place. Even Dr Will Edwards, who wasn’t renowned for his keen powers of observation had been heard to comment on the situation.
‘I reckon she sees you as competition, Phoebe,’ the young receptionist mused halfway to the door. ‘Perhaps she thinks Dr Carlyle will fancy you. Sorry!’ She grimaced and pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘It just slipped out.’
‘You know, I think the girl’s right!’ Fran exclaimed as Sally disappeared.
Everyone automatically looked at Phoebe, taking in her tall graceful figure, her mane of thick glossy hair only a shade removed from pure jet, her clear flawless skin, wide-spaced amber eyes and the mouth that was both sexy and vulnerable. One by one they nodded their agreement.
Phoebe, deeply embarrassed by the scrutiny, turned a pretty pink.
‘Miss Patterson is an excellent practice manager,’ she observed, frantically trying to steer the subject into less personal channels.
‘And a first-class cow,’ Grace supplied cheerfully.
Phoebe, who had a lot of sympathy with this view, was hard put not to echo this sentiment.
‘And she’s going to marry the boss,’ the student added.
‘Who,’ Grace asked, ‘told you that?’
‘Why, she did,’ came the bewildered response. ‘Well, not in so many words, but I got the impression she and Dr Carlyle were...’
You and me both, thought Phoebe, adding a fresh pad of prescription sheets to her bag and trying not to look as though she had anything more than a passing interest in the subject. After all these years, it was nothing to her personally if Connor chose to marry—in fact, she’d be happy for him. She’d concluded that it was just his supposed choice of bride that had been making her feel uneasy.
‘She wishes!’ Fran snorted with a dismissive laugh.
‘Well, they went on holiday together, didn’t they?’ Kate asked, puzzled.
‘There’s together and then there’s together,’ Grace explained. ‘There was a place left in the chalet that madam and her mates were renting in France and she persuaded Connor to go along. I don’t expect she bargained for him busting his knee. A bit of a passion-killer, a ruptured cruciate ligament.’
There was a group wince at the thought of the painful knee injury, feared by all sensible athletes. Not only was it excruciatingly painful when one of the main ligaments supporting the knee tore, there was also a lengthy period of recuperation after the surgical repair.
‘At least he’s had it sorted straight away. These ski resorts generally ship you back home to languish for months on our waiting list. I suppose it helps if you went to school with the surgeon,’ Fran mused cynically. ‘I get the impression our Ellen is a bit miffed because he didn’t want her to stay behind and play Flo Nightingale.’
‘I hate to play devil’s advocate,’ Grace interjected, ‘but it didn’t happen until the last day of the holiday. That gave Ellen ten days...’
‘To do what?’ The student enquired innocently.
‘Use your imagination, Kate,’ came the scornful response.
Phoebe already was, as her churning stomach could have attested.
* * *
