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The Seduction Challenge
Sarah Morgan
GP Joel Whittaker's return to Cornwall to work in his father's practice becomes even more enjoyable when he meets the gentle nurse.Joel's reputation with women is legendary, and there's something deliciously irresistible about Sister Lucy Bishop…. However, Joel's family warns him against any plans he has to seduce Lucy!So he decides he'll just get to know her instead, and fight temptation to take her in his arms. But it's a challenge that only gets harder….
Joel was stunned by his own reaction to her plight
Over the years he thought he’d experienced every emotion it was possible to feel for the opposite sex—except love, of course—but he’d never felt this overwhelming need to protect a woman before.
Until now.
But with Lucy looking up at him with those huge green eyes he suddenly understood why his brothers had been so ridiculously protective of her. There was something about her. A gentleness—a vulnerability—that made you want to hunt for a dragon just so you could slay it.
Dear Reader,
Most of us know someone who has had a relationship with a real louse. Recovering from that can be an uphill struggle, especially when there’s a child involved. So how do you move on and let yourself trust someone new?
Well, it certainly helps when the man in question is as sexy and persistent as my hero, Joel. A woman hasn’t said no to him yet, and he isn’t about to start with Lucy! Seeing her struggling to bring up her little boy alone, he even agrees to be her friend, a role that he’s never played before. But of course the chemistry between them is so strong that this is one relationship that is never going to end in just friendship.
This book is for all the women out there who think that they’ll never find someone else.
Stick with it. He’s out there somewhere.
Warmly,
Sarah
The Seduction Challenge
Sarah Morgan
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER ONE
‘PLEASE, Mrs Lambert,’ Lucy coaxed gently, ‘just try it for me?’
‘But I’ve hardly any breath now, dear,’ the old lady wheezed. ‘How can I possibly puff into that? It’ll kill me!’
Lucy held the peak-flow meter and smiled. ‘Just breathe in and then blow out sharply, like this…’ She gave a quick demonstration and changed the mouthpiece. ‘Now you have a go.’
‘But why?’ Mrs Lambert took the device from Lucy and looked at it doubtfully. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘This little machine helps us to measure how well your lungs are.’ Lucy explained patiently, nothing in her manner betraying the fact that this was the fourth time she’d given the same explanation to the old woman.
‘Oh.’ Mrs Lambert looked surprised. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so before?’
Lucy smothered a smile and pulled the top off her pen ready to record the results. ‘Blow when you’re ready, Mrs Lambert.’
Behind her the door opened and she turned to see Richard Whittaker, the senior partner, hovering in the doorway. Grey-haired and kindly, he looked at Mrs Lambert and gave a discreet thumbs-up sign. Lucy smiled and read the result of the peak-flow meter.
‘Well done, Mrs Lambert,’ she said warmly. ‘Twice more now. I need the best of three.’
‘Three? I’ll be in my grave, girl!’ Mrs Lambert looked horrified and turned to Richard with a small smile. ‘She’s a slave-driver, this new nurse of yours.’
‘I know.’ Richard Whittaker folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door, his expression sympathetic. ‘We all suffer, I’m afraid. She bullies us unmercifully. I should just give in, if I were you. That’s what we doctors do.’
Mrs Lambert gave a dramatic sigh and then blew sharply into the meter.
Lucy recorded the results and handed them to Richard with a pleased smile. ‘They’re not bad. Especially considering all the talking you’ve done since you came in here…’ she gave the old lady a teasing wink and Mrs Lambert laughed.
‘You’re a cheeky girl!’
Richard studied the results and then glanced up. ‘She’s right, you know. These results are good, Annie. We’ve been monitoring them regularly now, which helps us make a decision about your treatment. I don’t think we need alter anything at the moment but make sure you keep using the puffers.’
Annie Lambert’s mouth tightened. ‘I really don’t see why I need to. I feel fine.’
‘You have asthma, Mrs Lambert. You feel fine because you’ve been taking your puffers,’ Lucy explained, and the old lady sighed.
‘It’s a load of nonsense. How can I have asthma? I’m seventy years old, for goodness’ sake. Children get asthma, not adults!’
‘Adults get it too, Annie.’ Richard gave her a worried look. ‘We’ve explained it before, but we’ll explain it again if—’
‘No, no—’ Annie Lambert interrupted him with an impatient gesture. ‘You keep going on about puffers and blowing and all sorts of nonsense. I don’t want to listen to it any more. It’s boring.’
Lucy smiled. ‘It is pretty boring, isn’t it? And the good thing about remembering to take your puffers is that they keep you well so that you can then forget about the fact that you have asthma.’
‘I take the one regularly,’ Annie said primly, picking up her handbag and slipping it onto her arm. ‘And then the other one when I’m in a spot of trouble, but I must admit I feel pretty breathless sometimes.’
‘That’s as much your heart condition as your asthma,’ Richard explained gently, handing the chart back to Lucy. ‘We’ve increased the dose of your tablets now, so hopefully that should do the trick.’
‘I hope so,’ Annie said, her smile slightly tired, ‘or there’s no way I’ll be running the marathon next year.’
‘You’ll be the first over the finishing line,’ Lucy teased gently, her eyes twinkling as she helped the old lady into the waiting room. ‘Bye, Mrs Lambert. I’ll see you next month unless you need me before that.’
She walked back to the treatment room, surprised to find Richard still there.
‘She’s doing well, isn’t she?’ She pulled the mouthpiece out of the peak-flow meter and tossed it in the bin, carefully placing the device back on her asthma tray ready for the next time it would be needed.
Richard adjusted his metal-rimmed glasses and nodded. ‘Amazingly so. You’re a miracle-worker. I could never persuade her to blow into “that infernal machine”, as she calls it. Your asthma clinic works a treat.’
Lucy smiled briefly, embarrassed by the praise. ‘It’s only because I have more time than you.’
Richard snorted. ‘No, it’s not! Sometimes I think you’re the busiest person in the place. You’ve got the touch, that’s all,’ he said softly, his eyes suddenly searching as he looked at her. ‘But I didn’t really want to talk about Annie Lambert. I wanted to talk about you. You’ve been with us for a month now. I want to know how you are.’
Lucy gave him a grateful smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quietly, touched that he cared enough to ask.
‘Fine?’ Richard gave a curious smile and walked across the room to stare out of the window. ‘Do you know, I’ve decided over the years that I hate that word?’ he observed. ‘It doesn’t say anything about how a person is really feeling.’
Lucy stared at him, wondering what else to say.
She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. That deep inside she hurt so badly she could barely breathe. That she was lonely and sad and that sometimes her fear of the future was so intense it threatened to choke her.
She’d felt that way for a whole year, ever since—
With a sigh, she pushed the memories away. She’d long since made it a rule not to think about her problems at work, but if the senior partner was asking how she was then maybe she wasn’t doing such a great job at hiding her feelings.
Or maybe something else was the matter…
A flicker of anxiety ran through her insides. ‘Is something wrong?’ She searched her mind for possibilities. ‘I know it’s awkward for you that I have to finish work at three, and—’
‘Lucy, Lucy—’ Richard interrupted her gently, and walked slowly towards her, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? Your contribution to this practice is immeasurable. None of us care about you having to finish work at three. I’m not asking how you are because I have any professional concerns. My interest was completely personal. Elizabeth is worried about you and frankly so am I.’
He ran his eyes over her quickly and his mouth tightened. ‘You look tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?’
She opened her mouth to deny it and then realised the futility of it. The man was a doctor, for goodness’ sake.
‘Sometimes,’ she hedged, ‘but I’m all right, truly. I love it here.’
It was true—she did love it.
Moving to this pretty part of Cornwall was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.
Richard’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know, I could give you something to help with the sleeping.’
‘No.’ She shook her head, horrified at the suggestion. ‘Thank you, but, no. I prefer not to.’
What was the point?
The sadness would still be there when she woke up.
Hoping to change the subject, she picked up a dressing pack and tidied it away in the cupboard. ‘By the way, those new dressing packs we ordered are great. Much less wastage than the old ones. It should save the practice a significant amount of money in the long run.’
‘Lucy, I don’t care about the dressing packs!’ Richard ran both hands through his hair in frustration. ‘Well, I do care, of course,’ he corrected himself quickly, ‘but not at the moment. Stop working and sit down, will you? I can’t talk to you while you’re moving around the room.’
Resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let the subject drop, Lucy did as she was told.
‘How are you finding the flat?’
‘Fantastic,’ she replied immediately. ‘I’ve never lived anywhere so beautiful.’
It was true. After living in a cramped, damp flat in the grey suburbs of London, the spacious, airy flat with views over the harbour was straight out of her fantasies.
Richard adjusted his glasses and peered at her. ‘But you’re not meeting people.’
‘I meet people through my work,’ she pointed out quickly, and he gave a wry smile.
‘That isn’t exactly what I meant.’
She stared down at her hands, wondering why it was that everyone thought that the cure for a broken relationship was a new one. ‘I know what you meant and believe me when I say that meeting men isn’t high on my list of priorities at the moment.’
And she couldn’t imagine that it ever would be.
He nodded slowly. ‘I can understand why you feel that way, but give it time, Lucy, and you’ll feel differently. Sooner or later you need to get out there and build a new life.’
Did she?
How?
She had no experience in starting relationships. She’d known Tim since she was six years old and had always assumed that one day they’d get married. She’d just never imagined that it wouldn’t last for ever.
The whole concept of meeting and dating men—strangers—was completely alien to her.
‘I wish you’d join Elizabeth and me for a meal one day,’ Richard was saying. ‘We’d love to have you.’
Lucy smiled gently. ‘Dr Whittaker, you have been unbelievably kind to me since we met. I was a total stranger to you but you gave me a part-time job when you needed a full-time nurse, and you let me have a flat rent-free—’
‘You’re doing us a favour, living in it during the winter. There are no tourists at this time of year,’ Richard reminded her, ‘so it’s sitting empty.’
Lucy fiddled with the material of her uniform. ‘What I mean is that you’ve been extraordinarily generous. You don’t need to feed me as well.’
He frowned. ‘But you do cook for yourself in the evening?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said quickly, wondering if cereal and toast counted as cooking. It didn’t matter. She owed the Whittakers so much already, she certainly didn’t intend to impose on their kindness any more than she had to.
Richard looked at her regretfully. ‘Well, if you change your mind, you only have to ask. By the way, I wanted to remind you that my younger son is arriving today. I did mention that he would be joining the practice?’
‘Several times.’ Relieved that he’d changed the subject, Lucy hooked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and hid a smile. Richard’s pride in his youngest son was obvious to all. ‘I can’t believe all three of your sons are doctors.’
‘And they’ve all descended on my practice!’ Richard pulled a sorrowful face but Lucy knew that it was just for show. The Whittakers were closer than any family she’d ever met, and even in the brief time that she’d worked for them she’d seen that having a family practice worked well. Michael and Nick, the two sons she’d been working with for the past month, were both skilled doctors and clearly respected each other. There was none of the rivalry and pettiness that was reputed to taint other practices.
‘So when does your youngest son start officially?’
