Читать книгу The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 68

BEING colleagues and friends with Theo was easier than Madison had expected—but only because their paths didn’t cross that much. She was busy with her students when Theo was busy with clinics, and because she was a relatively senior doctor now, it was rare that they were both involved in the same cases. If she’d needed his advice, she would have asked immediately—no way would she ever put one of her mums or babies at risk—but all the complications were ones she’d come across before and she didn’t need his experience.

The only times they really met at work were in the rest room—where they chatted with the other staff as much as with each other—and at the weekly team briefings he’d set up. They occasionally lunched together, but it was usually with their students or junior staff and Theo would use it as an extra teaching session, a chance for the students to ask questions. Every so often Madison would catch Theo’s eye and wonder if she imagined the sudden heat in his look, or if she was seeing something she wished was there.

But friendship would simply have to be enough.

Madison was catching up with some paperwork one afternoon in the registrars’ office when there was a knock on the door. She glanced up to see Theo in the doorway. ‘Hi. What can I do for you?’

He took it as an invitation to walk in, and came to sit on the edge of her desk—not quite close enough to touch, but near enough to send her pulse rocketing. She had to fight to look completely unconcerned and casual about it, because she definitely didn’t feel it.

‘Our students. Do you do any role-play with them?’ he asked.

‘I haven’t with Sanjay and Nita so far,’ she admitted. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘A joint teaching session. You as the patient, Iris or Rosie as the midwife, and me there as the consultant to answer questions when our students get stuck on diagnosis or treatment.’

She felt her eyes widen. ‘Me as the patient? Why?’

He smiled. ‘Well, I’m not going to be remotely believable as a pregnant patient, am I? Unless, of course, I’m a miracle of modern medical science…’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Very funny. Actually, role-playing’s a great idea because it’ll give them a safe way to practise their skills. When did you want to start?’

‘Tomorrow at half-past eight—deliveries permitting,’ he added. ‘If we keep it to fifteen-minute sessions, one case at a time, we’ve got more chance of being able to do a role-play without being called to a patient, and we’re also avoiding information overload for Sanjay and Nita.’

‘Agreed. It’s a date,’ she said with a smile.

‘Good. Are you busy tonight?’ he asked.

‘Not that I can think of. Why?’

‘I wondered if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. We could go to the cinema afterwards.’

It was the sort of thing she loved doing with her female friends.

But dinner and a film with Theo…

It would really, really help if she didn’t still feel that pull of attraction towards him. If she didn’t remember what it was like to dance with him. If she could forget that moment when the balloon had landed and she’d been plastered against him.

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m not that keen on action movies,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘And I don’t like girly films. But there’s bound to be something on that we’ll both like. Something where we could compromise.’

Help.

Double help.

If she said no, he’d know that she was having trouble with this ‘friends and colleagues’ business, that she was finding it tough to fight the attraction between them, and it would push him even further away.

If she said yes…Dinner with Theo would be pure torture. Because it would increase the longing for something she couldn’t have.

‘Maddie?’

She took a deep breath. ‘OK. What time?’

‘I’ll meet you at your flat at, what, six?’

‘Six would be lovely.’

He rang her doorbell at six on the dot—he’d already checked the listings on his mobile phone and come up with three alternatives he thought they’d both like.

‘Any of them would be fine by me,’ Madison said when he showed her. ‘They’re all good choices.’

‘This one starts at eight, which gives us a chance to eat first,’ he suggested. ‘And I checked out the local restaurant reviews, too.’

‘So you have somewhere in mind?’

‘I do, but it depends on whether you like French food.’

‘There’s very little food I don’t like,’ she said with a smile.

He took her to a small French-style bistro in Covent Garden. When the waitress brought the menus over, Madison turned straight to the puddings and read the menu from the bottom up. Then she became aware that Theo looked amused.

‘What?’

‘You’re reading your menu backwards.’

‘It’s called planning,’ she explained. ‘If one of my favourite puddings is on the menu, then I’ll have a lighter main course to make up for the fact I’m having a dessert.’

He groaned. ‘Please, tell me you’re not one of these women on a permanent diet, Maddie.’

‘Not exactly.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘The thing is, I enjoy food.’

‘Good. I loathe eating with someone who counts every single calorie.’

‘Actually, I do count calories,’ she said. ‘I inherited the short gene in the family and I put on weight easily, so unlike my cousin Katrina I can’t eat whatever I like and get away with it. And I don’t want to spend my entire off-duty in the gym on a treadmill to work off the calories—life’s far too short.’ Not to mention the fact it had been Harry’s suggestion. It hadn’t just been the long hours she’d worked as a junior doctor or her longing for a baby that had been a problem in her marriage—it had turned out that her image also hadn’t been right for an up-and-coming stockbroker. Short and slender was fine; short and curvy most definitely wasn’t. ‘So that means compromising a little.’

‘There’s another solution,’ he said. ‘You could share a pudding with me.’

She laughed. ‘No chance. I’m not polite enough to do that. I’d end up having a spoon duel with you. And I’d win—because I’d play dirty and smack your knuckles with my spoon.’

‘Oh, would you, now?’ He laughed back. ‘But, for the record, I like you and your curves just the way you are. And I really like the fact that you enjoy food and you’re not going to nibble one olive and claim you don’t have room to eat anything else that evening.’

‘No, that’s not me.’ She shrugged. ‘But I should probably tell you I don’t cook.’

‘Can’t or don’t?’ he asked.

‘A bit of both,’ Madison said lightly.

When the waitress came to take their order, Madison ordered the crème brûlée. ‘Oh, and the salad niçoise to start with, please,’ she added with a smile.

Again, she noticed Theo hiding a grin. ‘What?’ she asked when the waitress had left.

‘Not only do you read a menu backwards, you order backwards.’

‘And your point is?’

‘I’m not laughing at you, Maddie,’ he said softly. ‘I’m smiling because it’s so refreshing to be with a woman who knows what she wants and is direct about it.’

If only he knew, she thought. Because there was something else she wanted. Something she couldn’t be direct about, because she couldn’t have it.

Dinner was fabulous, and the crème brûlée with rhubarb and ginger compote was just perfect. The film, too, lived up to expectations.

Theo insisted on walking her home from the tube station.

‘You really don’t have to. I’m streetwise enough not to get into trouble,’ Madison protested.

‘I don’t care. Where I grew up, men look after women.’

‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, Theo. Really. You don’t have to worry.’

‘Tough. You can argue as much as you like—I’m walking you home.’

In the end, it was easier to agree with him.

‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’ she asked as they stood outside her front door.

‘I thought you said you didn’t cook?’

‘I’m not making you Greek coffee.’ She smiled. ‘And even I can manage a cafetière.’

‘Then I accept. Efkharisto.’ He gave her a slight formal bow.

The first thing that struck Theo about the flat was the absence of pink. Madison was capable and professional at work, yet very feminine at the same time; she wore pink a lot, and he’d even overheard her having conversations about sparkly pink nail polish in the staff kitchen. But there was nothing girly about the décor. It was plain, neutral, relaxing. There was a string of feathery butterflies draped round the mirror above the mantelpiece, but other than that there were none of the fluffy things he’d expected. The kitchen was pure white and chrome—absolutely spotless—and Madison switched on the kettle before taking two mugs and a cafetière from the cupboard.

‘Come and sit down,’ she said, ushering him into the living room.

Theo’s attention was snagged by the photographs on the mantelpiece. There was a picture of Madison, her hair loose and blown about by the wind, standing in a garden; next to her was a taller woman with similar colouring who looked enough like her to be her sister. ‘That’s Katrina, I assume?’

‘Yes. In my parents’ back garden. These are my parents…’ She gestured to a photograph of an older couple. ‘And these are Katrina’s.’

‘Your fathers look very alike,’ he commented.

‘They’re brothers. My dad’s two years older than Uncle Danny—Katrina’s dad.’

In all the photographs, the groups of people had their arms round each other or were sharing a smile. They were clearly a very close family; for a moment, Theo felt wistful, missing his own family. The noise and chatter of his sisters, his brother’s terrible jokes, his father’s deep laugh and his stepmother’s gentle nurturing.

They’d adore Madison.

He pushed the thought away. It wasn’t going to happen. When he’d found out the truth about his past, the way his mother had died, he’d made a vow that he’d never, ever put a woman through the risks of childbirth. And Madison wanted children. Despite the fact that he’d never felt a pull so strong towards someone, he couldn’t act on it. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Madison, despite her independence and bubbly exterior, was vulnerable. She’d already had a miserable marriage to someone who hadn’t wanted what she wanted out of life; how could he ask her to repeat that? And she wasn’t looking for a short-term affair, which was all he could offer her.

He changed the subject. ‘This isn’t what I expected.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘What did you think my flat would be like?’

‘Girly. Full of pink, glittery, fluffy things.’

She smiled. ‘I’m thirty, not thirteen.’

‘Which doesn’t mean a thing. So do I get a guided tour?’ he asked.

‘Sure. This is the living room, and you’ve seen the kitchen. I’m on the top floor, so I don’t have a garden, which leaves you with the bathroom, here…’ She led him into the hallway and opened a door to reveal another restful room, in blue and white with a print of a lighthouse on one wall and a mirror decorated in shells. ‘And my room.’

Now, that was more what he’d expected, and he couldn’t resist smiling. Madison’s bedroom was as girly as it got. Although the walls and curtains and carpets were plain and neutral, just like the rest of the flat, there was a huge pile of cushions on the wrought-iron bed in a variety of textures from soft velvet to smooth silk, some of them embroidered and others with decorative beadwork and sequins. There was a haphazard pile of books on her bedside table—from the designs on the covers, he could tell that they were the kind of romantic comedies his oldest sister loved—but the bit that silenced him temporarily was the string of pink, fluffy lights around the mirror on Madison’s dressing table.

‘Did you just tell me you were thirty, not thirteen?’ he teased, gesturing towards the lights.

‘They were a joke present from Katrina. But, actually, I like them. They make me smile. And there’s a lot to be said for getting up in the morning with a smile on your face.’

Her blue eyes were lit up with laughter, and Theo found himself wondering why on earth Madison’s husband had ever let her down—why he’d been mad enough to let her go. Madison was bright and funny and full of the kind of joie de vivre that would light up the life of anyone whose life she shared. If she were his, he’d never let her go.

But she couldn’t be his.

Not permanently.

Because she wanted children and he really, really couldn’t take that risk.

And it wouldn’t be fair to offer her anything less than her dreams.

‘Theo?’

She looked worried, so he gave himself a mental shake and smiled at her. ‘Sorry. Carried away with thoughts of those cushions—and just how girly you really are, Dr Gregory.’

She spread her hands. ‘What can I say? I’m a girl.’

He knew that.

Every nerve end in his body was telling him to kiss her.

And he only just managed to stop himself. Because, once he started, he knew he wouldn’t be able to call a halt. Not until he’d undressed her and kissed every inch of skin he uncovered, touching her as if he’d be able to commit the feel of her skin, her scent and her taste to his memory.

‘Indeed,’ he said lightly, and stepped back out of the doorway. Out of temptation. And the best thing he could think of to do was to turn the conversation back to work. Something safe. ‘Now, about this role-play thing tomorrow…’