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Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant
Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant
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Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant

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Libby sighed. ‘He was a rat, that’s true, but, Katy, to be fair to him he never knew about—’

‘I don’t ever want to talk about that,’ Katy interrupted her quickly, and Libby sighed.

‘I know, but I think if you told him—’

‘It’s history.’ Katy lifted her chin. ‘He left. I’m over it. End of story.’

‘Right.’ Libby looked at her. ‘So you didn’t feel a single thing when you looked at him?’

Katy reminded herself of all the reasons she was marrying Freddie.

‘No. Not a thing.’ She looked at her sister and inhaled deeply. ‘I’m not eighteen any more, Lib. Do you really think I’d be mad enough to get involved with him again?’

After all the pain she’d suffered …

‘You couldn’t help yourself last time,’ Libby pointed out gently. ‘I saw the way you were with him. He was the one, Katy.’

‘I wish you’d stop saying that!’ Katy leapt of the bed, her breathing rapid. ‘He wasn’t the one. He wasn’t! I was too young and inexperienced to know what I was doing.’

‘Not that young.’

Katy shook her head. ‘It can’t be love if it’s one-sided, and Jago never loved me.’

I don’t do commitment, Katy.

‘OK, calm down.’ Libby looked at her warily and stuck out her hand. ‘Have some chocolate. It’s good for the nerves.’

Katy sighed. ‘I’m beyond chocolate.’

Libby looked unconvinced. ‘Nothing is ever beyond the reach of chocolate. Well, if you don’t want chocolate, we could go shopping. I saw this gorgeous pair of shoes today.’

Katy gave a wan smile. Libby’s two big loves in life were chocolate and shoes. ‘If you buy any more shoes we’ll need a bigger flat.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can handle him now, Lib. I’m older and more sensible. I know he’s wrong for me. I don’t want a man like Jago. He’s ruthless and macho and totally not my type.’

She remembered the careless way that he’d dismissed the nurse. It seemed that, whatever career he pursued, Jago had to be in control.

‘He’s Spanish,’ Libby reminded her. ‘These Mediterranean types are all the same. Unreconstructed when it comes to women.’

‘Well, I don’t want unreconstructed,’ Katy said firmly. ‘Not any more. That was just a phase I went through as a teenager. Now I’m older and wiser and I want romantic—like Freddie. Did you see the flowers?’

Libby pulled a face. ‘I could hardly miss them. Freddie certainly isn’t subtle.’

Katy stiffened defensively. ‘He’s kind.’

‘Right.’ Libby looked at her. ‘So is the mechanic that services my car, but I’m not marrying him.’

‘Just drop it.’

‘You know I don’t think you should be marrying Freddie, and neither does Alex.’ Libby looked her straight in the eye. ‘Don’t try telling me you’re not still affected by Jago, Katy. Look at yourself! You’re a nervous wreck. You couldn’t resist him before. What makes you think you can do it this time?’

‘Because I’m older and wiser and I’m marrying Freddie.’

‘Freddie is completely wrong for you.’

Katy gritted her teeth. ‘He’s very romantic. Something that Jago could never be.’

‘But then Jago is one hundred and fifty per cent full-on virile male,’ Libby said softly, ‘something that Freddie could never be.’

‘That’s enough!’ Katy lifted her hands to her ears but Libby didn’t give up.

‘You’re going to be waking up every morning next to Lord Frederick—that’s if he hasn’t left early to get to the office before the markets open …’

Katy still had her ears covered. ‘I’m not listening.’

‘Fine. Don’t listen.’ Libby sprang off the bed and tossed the chocolate wrapper in the bin. ‘But if you think you can work alongside Jago without creating fireworks then you’re deluded.’

‘I—I can,’ Katy stammered. ‘He doesn’t affect me any more.’

Libby lifted an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

‘I don’t even think about him.’

The heat of his mouth on hers, the erotic sweep of his tongue …

‘Right.’ Libby looked at her steadily. ‘Well, in that case, working with him isn’t going to be a problem, is it?’

Two weeks later Katy stood nervously in the A and E department, listening as one of the other consultants showed them round and explained what was expected of them.

A tiny scar hidden in her hairline was the only remaining physical evidence of her accident but emotionally it was a different matter. The shattered pieces of her heart, painstakingly glued back together over the past eleven years, had been torn apart again by just one meeting with Jago.

The air around her felt stuffy and close. She could hardly breathe. Just thinking about bumping into him made her knees tremble and her palms sweaty.

What had possessed her to think that she could do this?

How would he react when he discovered that she was a doctor and that she was going to be working in his department?

And how was she going to react to him?

‘This is the resuscitation room and it’s always kept ready. Basically we divide the department into different areas.’ Totally unaware of Katy’s inner torment, the consultant smiled at the group of doctors gathered around him. ‘For serious injuries we use a team approach in this hospital. It means that different tasks can be performed simultaneously and makes for a more rapid assessment of the patient, and that improves the survival rate.’

Reminding herself that she had a job to do, Katy forced herself to concentrate. It was her first day and at the moment it was quiet, but she’d been warned that there could be an influx of patients at any moment. A group of them had started together and so far everyone seemed friendly enough.

And there was no sign of Jago Rodriguez.

Gradually her knees started to shake a little less and her breathing grew easier.

‘How many people make up the trauma team?’ A good-looking, fair-haired doctor, who’d introduced himself as Carl Richards, asked the question and the consultant turned to face him.

‘We use four doctors, five nurses and a radiographer. One of the doctors acts as team leader, then there’s the airway doctor who does the obvious but also checks the cervical spine and inserts any central or arterial lines that might be needed.’

‘And the other two doctors?’

‘We call them circulation doctors. They help with the removal of the patients’ clothes, put up peripheral lines, insert chest drains—that type of thing. The nurses work in much the same way. The important thing to remember is that there should only be six people touching the patient or it leads to total chaos. The others should keep well back.’

‘And most of the senior doctors.’ It was Carl again. ‘Have they done the ATLS course?’

The consultant nodded. ‘The advanced trauma life support course was originated by the American College of Surgeons, but we now run something similar over here in the UK.’

Katy spoke up. ‘So will we be part of the trauma team?’

The consultant gave a wry smile. ‘You’re going to be part of everything. The team leader is always a consultant but you’ll certainly be working as circulation doctors, obviously operating within your skill level. If certain procedures are unfamiliar, we expect you to say so. Now, I’m going to show you the most important room of all. The staff common room.’

Half an hour later, Katy pushed her bag into her locker, slammed it shut and made to follow the others out onto the unit. They’d had a cup of coffee and now the work was about to start.

Her first day on A and E.

She was the last person left in the common room and she gave a start as the door crashed open and Jago strode in, formidably male, his strong features strained.

‘Tell me this is a joke,’ he launched, slamming the door shut behind him and keeping a hand on it so that no one could disturb them. ‘I’ve just seen your name on the rota. Dr Katherine Westerling?’

If anything, he was even colder than he’d been when she’d been admitted as a patient and Katy closed her eyes briefly.

Maybe it was her fault. She should have warned him, but when she’d been lying in hospital she hadn’t even decided whether she was going to be able to do it.

And now she was having serious doubts.

How could she ever have thought that she could work alongside him without a problem?

Connecting with those volcanic dark eyes, she felt an explosion of awareness erupt inside her body and hated herself for it. It seemed that it didn’t matter how indifferent he was to her, she was still a sucker for his type of raw, masculine sexuality.

‘It’s not a joke.’ Katy’s breathing was suddenly uneven as she struggled to hide the disturbing effect he had on her. At five feet ten she was used to being at eye level with most men, but she’d always had to look up to Jago. He was six feet three of intimidating, angry male, and being in the same room as him had a seriously detrimental effect on her nerves.

‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me when you were in here two weeks ago?’

‘I—I didn’t think it was relevant.’

Because she’d been shell-shocked to see him again.

Because she hadn’t made up her mind whether she would be able to take the job, knowing that it would mean working with him.

‘Not relevant?’ His eyes raked over her in a naked disbelief that would have offended her if she hadn’t become used to it over the years. People always looked at her in disbelief because she didn’t fit their stereotype of a doctor.

Katy sighed, reading his mind. ‘Women become doctors, Jago. Even blondes.’

He frowned sharply. ‘I’m not prejudiced against women doctors.’

‘So what’s wrong?’

‘Seeing you in A and E is what’s wrong,’ he drawled, his penetrating dark gaze locking onto hers. ‘You were a model. A woman whose main priority was the state of her nails.’

That wasn’t true but she couldn’t blame him for thinking that.

At the time she’d been breathlessly aware that Jago had only dated really, really beautiful women and she’d been determined to be as beautiful as possible to see off the competition. And that had been time-consuming.

It occurred to her suddenly that she and Jago hadn’t ever really talked about anything that mattered. She’d certainly never told him that she’d wanted to be a doctor. In fact, apart from Libby and Alex, no one had known just how badly she’d wanted to be a doctor until the day she’d told her father.

She lifted her chin. ‘I gave up modelling when I was eighteen.’ Just after he’d walked out of her life. ‘I—I had a few years off and then I went to medical school.’

He looked at her. ‘And did your father approve of that?’

Her heartbeat increased at the memory and her gaze slid away from his. ‘No.’

‘So you finally stood up to him about something.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Good for you. But that still doesn’t make you suitable material for an A and E doctor.’

She stiffened, refusing to be intimidated by his disparaging tone. ‘I was top of my year, Jago.’

‘I never said you weren’t bright and I’m sure you’d make an excellent GP,’ he said dismissively, his expression hard and uncompromising. ‘What was your last job?’

‘Paediatrics.’

‘Go back there,’ he advised silkily. ‘Accident and emergency is medicine in the raw. It’s a real job. It won’t suit you.’

Her heart was thumping so hard she felt dizzy.

‘I’ve done real jobs before.’

‘Really?’ He lifted an eyebrow, his tone heavy with sarcasm. ‘Just how much blood and serious, gut-wrenching trauma have you dealt with in your time, Katy?’

None.

She’d done the required medical and surgical house jobs after she’d qualified, of course, and then she’d done a year of paediatrics before deciding that it wasn’t the route she wanted to take in her career.

It had been her consultant on the paediatric ward who’d observed her calm, unflappable nature and suggested that she might like to consider A and E work.

And despite Jago’s acid comments, she knew she could do it.

‘I’ll be fine.’ She swallowed. If she was honest, she was slightly anxious about how she’d cope with major trauma, but she’d rather stop breathing than admit that to Jago. ‘Being a good doctor isn’t just about blood and guts. I’m good at communicating with patients and I have good instincts when it comes to judging clinical situations.’

His eyes raked over her from head to foot, taking in every inch of her appearance. ‘And do you really think that scraping back that blonde hair, wearing glasses that you don’t need and dressing like my grandmother is going to make you seem tougher?’

Katy touched the glasses self-consciously. Having long blonde hair and being considered exceptionally pretty had turned out to be a distinct disadvantage, so over the years she’d adopted a disguise. She’d discovered that if she dressed discreetly then people paid more attention to what she was saying. But not Jago, of course. He saw through the disguise right to her soul. He’d always been razor sharp.

She decided to be honest. ‘I wear the glasses because they make people take me more seriously.’

His laugh was unsympathetic. ‘And I bet you need all the help you can get, querida.’

She bristled at his tone and lifted her chin with an icy dignity that she’d learned from her mother.

‘I’m a good doctor, Jago.’ She’d had to prove it on umpteen occasions in the past so it was nothing new. ‘I’ll be fine.’