Читать книгу Her Honourable Playboy - Kate Hardy - Страница 7

SEB couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the accident—he’d seen far worse in the emergency department. Years of working in emergency medicine had taught him that you couldn’t save everyone: you did your best and accepted everything else.

No, it was Alyssa.

She was the first woman he could remember not being able to charm. Which in itself was annoying. And then there was the fact that she’d been sharp enough to guess that he was hiding something. She was hiding something herself, too, he thought—maybe a past relationship, and definitely issues with her father.

Ah, hell. He had to get her out of his head. He wasn’t in the market for a long-term relationship, and Alyssa wasn’t the type who was up for something short term. She didn’t even like him very much.

What he needed was a distraction. Preferably blonde and cute, with an hourglass figure. Tomorrow, he’d start looking.

‘How did it go, then?’ Tracey asked. ‘Did you have a good time?’

‘It was OK,’ Alyssa said coolly.

‘A night out with Sexy Seb, just OK?’ Fliss asked. ‘Come off it! Where did he take you?’

‘Dinner.’ At Fliss’s uncompromising stare, Alyssa added, ‘In a restaurant overlooking the Thames.’

‘What did you have?’ Tracey asked.

Alyssa chuckled and added milk to her coffee. ‘What is this, an interrogation? I had chicken livers, monkfish and lemon posset. And the food was very nice.’

‘And?’ Fliss prompted.

‘And that’s it.’

‘Seb just took you home?’ Tracey sounded disappointed.

‘Actually, we ended up in the emergency department at Albert’s.’

‘What? Are you all right?’ Fliss asked.

‘Yeah. Fine. We stopped to help at an accident.’ Alyssa’s jaw tightened. ‘Teenager, just passed his test, went through a red light and hit a lorry. Crush injuries.’

Tracey winced. ‘Please, don’t. That makes me think of Michael.’ Tracey’s son was seventeen and driving her crazy with requests to put him on the insurance for her car and take him out between driving lessons. ‘Did he make it?’

Alyssa grimaced. ‘He was critical last night. I rang this morning and—after I’d explained who I was and that it was discussing a joint patient, not breaking confidentiality—the hospital said he had a good chance, but he’s lost both legs. Poor kid.’

‘That’s a hell of an end to an evening. Maybe you ought to make another date, to make up for it,’ Fliss suggested.

‘I don’t want to go out with Seb.’ He was an excellent doctor, and he had a good heart—the fact that he’d met her at the hospital last night instead of making her find her own way home proved that. But she also knew his reputation. Seb didn’t do more than one date—a date that usually ended up in his bed. And Alyssa didn’t want to be a notch on his bedpost. ‘And just stop trying to matchmake, you two,’ she added, trying to keep her tone light. ‘It’s not going to work. For a start, Seb likes leggy blondes and I’m not one.’

‘Nothing that a bit of peroxide couldn’t fix,’ Tracey said with a grin. ‘My Kelly’s nearly finished her hairdresser and beautician training. Just say the word and I’ll send her over. In fact, she could do you hair extensions, so you could do the “tossing your hair over your shoulder” bit.’

‘No. Absolutely not,’ Alyssa said, laughing. ‘I’m fine as I am. But thanks for the offer. I think.’

She was still smiling when she went to cubicles to see her first patient. As if she’d have a second date with Seb. The first one had only been because of a raffle ticket. They had nothing in common, apart from a career in medicine. Oh, and maybe the same taste in puddings—but that was it. Plus, Seb never did more than one date. And she was happiest on her own anyway.