Читать книгу Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant - Sarah Morgan - Страница 8

‘RTA COMING in, Jago.’ Charlotte, one of the A and E sisters, replaced the phone and turned to the consultant. ‘Young female had to be cut out of a car. Apparently it’s taken them a while to free her.’

Jago lifted night-black eyes from the X-ray he was studying, his handsome face sharply alert. ‘Details?’

‘Not many. Head and chest but I don’t know how bad.’ Charlotte tilted her head, studying his face, marvelling at how unbelievably gorgeous he was. It didn’t matter how long she’d worked with him, she still stared. All the female staff stared. As one of the cheekier nurses had quipped, ‘Some staffrooms have posters of heartthrobs—we have the real live thing.’ Charlotte pulled herself together. ‘I can hear the siren.’

Jago nodded briefly. ‘Get someone to check Resus while we meet the ambulance.’ With that he yanked the X-ray out of the light-box and strode through the department, broad-shouldered and confident, pausing briefly to hand the X-ray to one of the casualty officers. ‘If you take a close look at this, you can see a lunar dislocation on the lateral view, Alison. You missed it.’

Aware of his reputation for zero tolerance when it came to clinical mistakes, the young doctor regarded him warily.

‘I—I didn’t request a lateral view.’

The consultant’s voice was silky smooth. ‘But fortunately I did.’

‘The AP view looked normal, Mr Rodriguez—’

‘Which is why you should also have requested a lateral view X-ray.’ His tone was icy cold and unsympathetic and the casualty officer shifted in her seat.

‘I—I thought that was a pretty rare injury. I read in a book that it’s quite common to miss that particular injury on X-ray.’

‘Not in my department,’ Jago said softly, visibly unimpressed by her error. ‘Next time request the right views and check them carefully. Expect the unexpected. Rare injuries still happen. Refer the patient to the orthopaedic team for a manipulation under anaesthetic and then join me in Resus. We’ve got an RTA coming in.’

‘Yes, Mr Rodriguez.’ The young female SHO was pink with mortification and Jago gritted his teeth impatiently. The girl was sloppy and over-confident and he’d be relieved when she finished her six-month stint in two weeks’ time. Some people weren’t cut out for emergency medicine and she was one of them. And on top of that, her longing looks were beginning to irritate him. She’d made it obvious that she’d be happy to extend their relationship beyond the confines of the hospital but he had more sense than to break hearts in his own department and these days he was becoming more and more picky about who he shared his bed with.

By his side Charlotte winced. ‘Ouch—you were hard on her.’

Jago lifted a dark eyebrow, his expression cool. ‘You’d prefer that she discharged a patient with a dislocation?’

‘No, but—’

‘Patients have the right to expect the very best care when they come into this department. She has a great deal to learn.’

Ending the conversation abruptly, Jago pushed his way through the swing doors just as the ambulance roared into the ambulance bay.

The paramedics opened the back and lifted out the stretcher. ‘Young female with head and chest injuries. She was shunted from behind so we’ve had her on a backboard. GCS of 7 at the scene but she regained consciousness fairly quickly and it’s 12 now, but she’s not saying much.’ The paramedic frowned. ‘She hasn’t been able to tell us her name or anything, but we’ve got her bag so we need to try and find out who she is.’

Jago turned to look at the still form of the girl lying on the trolley and his powerful body froze in shock. He stared in stunned disbelief, his muscular shoulders tense as his eyes raked over the blonde hair and the endless limbs.

I love you, Jago.

‘I know who she is.’

Only years of exercising rigid control over his intrinsically volatile emotions prevented him from displaying his reaction to her in a very public way.

The paramedic was looking at him. ‘You do? Oh—right. Well, in that case …’

‘Take her through to Resus,’ Jago ordered, his eyes still on the long, primrose blonde hair, now matted with blood.

Do you think I’m pretty, Jago?

‘Her air bag didn’t open properly and she hit the windscreen,’ the paramedic explained as they manoeuvred the stretcher into the A and E department. ‘Her head bled a lot and she’s going to need stitches, but we’ve put a pad on it for now. She might have chest injuries, too, from the way she was thrown against the steering-wheel. Weird really. There didn’t seem to be anyone else involved. You should have seen the car. Frankly, she was bloody lucky to escape alive.’

Jago’s expression didn’t flicker, his eyes as black as night and his manner controlled and totally professional. ‘OK, guys, let’s get to work. Get me some gloves, please—she’s covered in glass. Be careful!’

Someone handed him some gloves and he pulled them on quickly as Charlotte moved closer to the trolley.

‘Hello, can you hear me, er …?’ She glanced up questioningly. ‘Do we have a name?’

‘Her name is Katherine.’ Jago checked her airway and reached for an oxygen mask. ‘Katherine Westerling.’

Huge blue eyes staring into his, innocence mingling with excitement and anticipation as his hard body moved against her softness …

‘Right.’ Charlotte exchanged puzzled glances with one of her colleagues. ‘Why is that name familiar?’

‘She’s the daughter of Sir Charles Westerling, the banker,’ Jago informed her tautly, and Charlotte’s eyes widened.

‘Wow! I’ve seen pictures of her in the glossies, looking glamorous. She’s seriously rich and really, really beautiful.’

And totally lacking in morals.

His relationship with Katy had been the one and only time in his life that he’d lowered his guard with a woman. And he hadn’t made the same mistake since.

Her father, telling him the truth, showing him the evidence …

‘That’s her.’ His emotions held rigidly in check, Jago didn’t look up, his hands moving swiftly as he worked to stabilise Katy. She was just a patient. ‘Now, can we stop gossiping and just get on with the job?’

Charlotte stiffened warily, cast him a curious look and then turned her attention back to the patient. ‘Katherine? Katherine, can you hear me?’

Katy lay with her eyes closed.

She could hear voices but she didn’t respond. It felt nice to hide in the darkness. There was a sharp prick in her arm and hands moving over her.

‘Katherine.’

A kind female voice was calling her name but it felt like too much effort to respond.

Then she heard a harsh, male voice and her body tensed. It sounded so familiar.

‘Her X-rays are fine but she’s got a laceration by her hairline that’s going to need suturing and she was knocked out so she’s going to have to stay in overnight for observation.’ Fingers touched her and then she heard the voice again. ‘She’s shivering. Get some blankets.’

Something soft and cosy covered her immediately but the shivering wouldn’t stop.

‘Any relatives?’

‘She was on her own in the car.’

‘Open your eyes, Katherine.’

Hands touching her, the prick of another needle.

‘OK, she’s stable.’ The familiar male voice again. ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it. Get her a bed on the ward and call me if anything changes.’

‘How’s that head?’

Katy lay in the bed, watching the nurse who was checking her blood pressure. ‘Aching, but I’ll live.’ She moved her head to look around her and then winced as pain lanced through her skull. ‘Which hospital am I in?’

‘St Andrew’s. We put seven stitches in your head but your hair will cover it so don’t worry about having a scar.’

St Andrew’s?

Katy closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. Having a scar was the least of her problems. She was due to start work in this very department in two weeks’ time. How embarrassing!

Should she say something?

Deciding to remain silent on the subject for the time being, she shrank lower in the bed.

‘They reckon you’re lucky to be alive.’ The nurse pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled on the chart. ‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know.’ Katy frowned as she tried to remember. ‘I was at a party at my parents’ house and then I left to drive home.’ Running from her past. ‘I saw a rabbit in the road so I slammed on my brakes and that’s the last thing I remember.’

The nurse made a clucking sound. ‘Anyway, your X-rays are clear so you should be able to go home in the morning. We found some details in your handbag and called your fiancé. He’s on his way over.’

Katy suppressed a groan. She didn’t want to see Freddie. Why couldn’t they have called Libby or Alex?

The nurse was looking at her in concern. ‘You look terrible. Is there anything I can get you? Do you need anything?’

Yes. She needed to know that the voice that she’d heard in A and E hadn’t been Jago’s.

Of course it wasn’t Jago’s, she told herself.

Jago was a super-rich banker. How could he possibly be working in A and E?

She had just been imagining things and it was no wonder after the conversation she’d had with Libby.

‘I don’t need anything else, thanks.’

She smiled at the nurse just as the door opened and Jago Rodriguez walked in.

The colour drained out of Katy’s cheeks and her breathing did an emergency stop. Her entire body was frozen to the bed, paralysed by the shocking reality of being confronted by Jago.

‘Mr Rodriguez.’ The nurse straightened nervously, went a deep shade of pink and dropped the chart she was holding.

Stunning dark eyes flickered to the nurse. ‘You can go.’

He held the door open in the manner of someone totally accustomed to having his every instruction obeyed instantly, and the flustered nurse retrieved the chart and hurried across the room, casting a final hungry look at Jago’s profile before slipping outside.

Suddenly the room seemed too small.

Jago closed the door and stood with his back to it, his long, powerful legs spread apart, his expression unsmiling. Dominant, confident and unapologetically male, not by the slightest flicker of those sinfully dark lashes did he acknowledge that they’d ever been more than casual acquaintances.

‘Hello, princess.’ He spoke in a deep, masculine drawl that made Katy’s pulse race. ‘Running again?’

Katy’s soft lips parted and she struggled to sit up. She was in total shock. The subject of all her dreams and nightmares was suddenly confronting her. Jago, whom she’d thought about every waking minute for the last eleven years.

Jago, whom she’d never expected to see again.

Somehow he was standing in her hospital room, frighteningly imposing and super-handsome, displaying not the slightest discomfort at seeing her. Nothing in his body language suggested that he felt the smallest hint of guilt or remorse for the way he’d walked away from her without a word of explanation, leaving her so badly hurt that for a while she’d thought she’d never recover.

She could see that he was waiting for her to speak but she was totally unable to think coherently.

Over time she’d managed to convince herself that her starry-eyed view of him had been coloured by a hormonally driven teenage imagination. She’d decided that he couldn’t have been as gorgeous as she remembered.

She’d been wrong.

Jago Rodriguez was strikingly good-looking. He wore his glossy dark hair so short that in any other man it would have accentuated the faults in his facial features. But Jago didn’t have any faults. He possessed a bone structure that made artists drool and a physique that would have driven athletes to a state of mindless envy. He was impossibly, staggeringly handsome.

And to set him apart from the average man still further, he wore an exquisitely tailored suit that skimmed his wide shoulders and just shrieked of designer label.

In a strange moment of distraction Katy found herself wondering what happened if a patient was sick on it.

Growing hotter and hotter under his steady scrutiny, she lifted a hand to her aching head.

‘Wh-what are you—?’ She broke off, totally unable to believe his presence by her hospital bed. ‘I-I didn’t know you were a doctor,’ she croaked, and a dark eyebrow swept upwards.

‘Why should you?’

Why indeed?

After all, he’d chosen to walk out of her life without a backward glance or giving a forwarding address. To him the relationship had been over and he’d moved on. Unfortunately it hadn’t been so easy for her.

She dug her nails in her palms. ‘I assumed you were still in banking.’

‘I lost my taste for banking,’ he said smoothly, his dark eyes fixed on her pale face. ‘I changed career.’

So that was why her feeble, childish attempts to track him down had failed. She’d used all her contacts at the various banks but with no success. It had never occurred to her that he might have changed profession.

Katy blinked as she did the calculation in her head. If he was a consultant now then he must have started training immediately after he’d left her father’s company and he must have progressed fast. But, then, that didn’t surprise her. Jago had always been frighteningly clever.

‘Why medicine?’

And why this hospital, where she was going to see him every day?

She fought the rush of panic that threatened to swamp her and focused on his tie. Silk. Designer. Sufficiently muted not to induce a headache in a patient with a head injury.

‘I like the adrenaline rush. When you’re dealing with lives, the stakes are higher than in the money markets.’

He gave a careless shrug and she found her gaze drifting upwards to his powerful shoulders. If anything, he was even more spectacular than he’d been eleven years before. Jago Rodriguez was sex in the raw, so overwhelmingly masculine that just looking at him was enough to punch the breath from her body.

Appalled by her own thoughts and the traitorous stab of awareness that she felt low in her stomach, she looked away from him.

What was the matter with her? He’d been in the room for less than five minutes and already her insides were turning somersaults. Did she have absolutely no sense of self-preservation?

It depressed her that she could still react to him, knowing just how badly he’d hurt her. Weren’t doctors supposed to be warm and caring?

For a short, blissful interlude she’d thought that Jago possessed those qualities, but experience had shown that he was capable of being every bit as ruthless, ambitious and macho as her father.

Jago didn’t have a compassionate bone in his body and she certainly couldn’t imagine him as a doctor.

As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t doctor material. She started to shiver.

Why now? Why did she have to bump into Jago now, when she’d finally managed to rebuild an emotionally comfortable life for herself?

She was marrying Freddie and she was never again going to feel that breathless, stomach-churning excitement that she’d experienced with Jago.

Those slumberous eyes, as dark as obsidian, reflected not a hint of warmth or tenderness. Nothing that reflected the intense emotions which had characterised their relationship. The tension in the room sucked the breath from her body but he surveyed her with an almost indifferent coolness that made it blatantly clear he had no positive feelings for her whatsoever.

It was almost as if the very sight of her offended him, which was utterly ridiculous. After all, he’d been the one who’d walked away from her without the smallest explanation.

And maybe that shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. She’d been well aware of his reputation when she’d become involved with him. In fact, his reputation had been part of the fascination, at least to begin with, and he’d always warned her that he didn’t do commitment.

So why had she been so devastated when he’d ended it? And did she really expect him to be harbouring romantic memories about her? Just remembering all her innocent fantasies about him filled her with mortification.

She’d been so naïve.

She suddenly felt horribly vulnerable in her NHS nightie that was open all the way down the back.

If she had to face Jago she would have chosen to be wearing armour.

‘I heard your voice when the paramedics brought me in.’ Her voice was a croak. ‘Was it you who—?’

‘Who sorted you out? Yes, it was. I seem to make a habit of it, don’t I? And it’s always on the same date.’ He strolled forward and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Tell me, Katy. What were you running from this time?’

‘Nothing.’

Her memories.

‘You could have been killed. It took them an hour to cut you out of the car.’ His tone was matter-of-fact. ‘Do you think I’ve forgotten the significance of today, Katy? It’s the tenth of July. Your birthday. So the question is, what are those unspeakable parents of yours trying to force you to do this time?’

Their eyes clashed and she knew that he was remembering her eighteenth birthday eleven years previously. Another occasion when she’d been running and he’d rescued her …

‘I’m going to be a doctor.’

Katy faced her father, her heart beating so fast that she felt faint. There wasn’t going to be a row. There couldn’t be. They were surrounded by influential people. She’d chosen to confront him in the middle of their birthday party, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do much.

Her father looked at her impatiently. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Katherine. You’re going to do this cordon bleu cookery course in Switzerland. I’ve paid the fees.’

Katy took several gulps of air and realised that her father was so dismissive of her that he didn’t even listen to her any more.

‘But I don’t want to cook, and I don’t want to model,’ she said hesitantly, refusing to let the subject drop, digging her fingers into her damp palms as she faced her father. ‘I’m going to be a doctor.’

She’d applied for a place and had been accepted subject to her exam results. Telling her father was the last step to achieving her dream.

Her father’s expression became ugly, his stance suddenly menacing. ‘You’re not. It’s bad enough that Alex has chosen to be a doctor when he’s got the brains to join me and make a fortune in the City, without you doing the same thing.’

Katy refrained from telling him that it had been glancing through Alex’s prospectuses from medical school that had helped her finally make up her mind. She’d already wasted enough time modelling.

Now she was going to study medicine.

‘You have the looks to be a highly successful model,’ her mother added nervously, lifting a hand to wave at one of the guests and pinning a false smile on her face. ‘Thanks to your father, you’re wealthy enough not to have to work. Have some fun until you meet someone suitable and then get married.’

‘But I want to work,’ Katy blurted out, forgetting that they were surrounded by people. ‘I want to earn a living. I want a career.’

‘Lower your voice, Katherine!’ Her mother’s tone was a soft mutter and she glanced round self-consciously. ‘Your father has important guests here. We don’t want everyone gossiping.’

Katy gritted her teeth. She didn’t care about gossip. She just wanted him to listen to her for once. For once she wanted him to respect her opinion on something.

‘Please Dad, I—’

‘The subject is closed, Katherine.’ Her father’s face was cold and unsmiling. ‘On the first of October you’re going off to your cookery course and that’s the end of it. Don’t mention it again or you’ll make me angry.’

And Katy knew exactly what that meant.

Her heart started to beat faster and she dug her nails deeper into her palms. It was the threat of her father’s fury that had prevented her from saying something before now. She’d sneaked off to interviews, accepted Alex’s help in finding accommodation and the only thing left to do now was to tell her parents.

And she was going to tell them.

‘Dad—’

‘I don’t want the subject mentioned again.’ With that her father strode off across the lawn to talk to the guests, leaving Katy with a desire to scream with frustration.

How was she ever going to get her father to accept her plans?

Suddenly it was all too much.

Tears springing into her eyes, she spun round and ran across the lawn, ignoring the astonished looks she received from the guests, ignoring her mother’s frosty glare.

She didn’t slow her pace until she reached the stables. There was only one thing that would ease her tension and that was a ride. She needed to get away from her own party.

Brushing the tears from her cheeks, she grabbed a bridle from the tack room, relieved that the grooms were obviously busy elsewhere. Then she hurried back across the yard and slid into one of the stables.

‘Hi, sweetheart.’ She stroked her favourite mare on the neck and slipped the reins over the horse’s head and the bit into her mouth, fastening the bridle quickly. ‘We’re getting out of here.’

She led the mare out into the yard, slipped off her high heels and vaulted easily onto the horse’s back, clattering out of the yard before anyone spotted her.

The moment she reached the fields she kicked the horse into a gallop and sped along the track at a breakneck pace.

Part of her knew it wasn’t safe. She was wearing a loose summer dress and no riding hat and she was crying so hard she couldn’t see where she was going, but she just had to get away.

She headed for the barn at the far end of her father’s estate. The place she always escaped to when she didn’t want anyone to find her.

As she approached the barn the horse suddenly veered to the left to avoid a ditch. Katy lost her balance and slid off the animal’s back, landing awkwardly in the long grass.

She lay still for a moment, staring at the sky, wondering which part of her she’d hurt most.

‘Well, that was dramatic.’ The low masculine drawl came from beside her and she struggled to sit up, her eyes widening as she recognised the man staring down at her.

Jago Rodriguez.

He worked for her father in the bank and everyone knew who he was. Especially the women. He’d clawed his way up from what could only be described as an underprivileged background. But if nature had deprived him of material wealth, it had more than compensated by giving Jago sensational good looks, a ruthless ambition to succeed and a brain as sharp as the business end of a razor. It was those qualities that had brought him to the attention of her father and had made him a millionaire several times over by the time he was in his early twenties.

He was a frequent visitor to the manor and Libby often sat on the stairs, hoping for a glimpse of him. Katy wasn’t so bold. She hid in the shadows and watched in mute admiration as Jago coolly ignored her father’s moodiness and childish displays of temper. He was one of the few people who remained completely undisturbed by Charles Westerling’s thoroughly abrasive business manner and bully-boy tactics.

‘The boy’s brilliant,’ her father would grunt as they ate dinner in the formal dining room after Jago had left. Of course, he was never invited to join them. ‘Has an instinctive feel for what will work and goes with it. He’s making a fortune for himself and the bank at the moment.’

Their mother looked pained. ‘I just wish you didn’t have to invite him to events here. He has absolutely no respect for English social convention.’

‘Hallelujah,’ Libby muttered, and Katy stared at her plate, wishing that she had just one small portion of Jago Rodriguez’s courage.

What must it be like to have such self-confidence that you didn’t care what people thought?

‘I think he’s gorgeous,’ Libby piped up, and then subsided as she met her father’s glare.

‘I know he’s got a dreadful reputation with women, but I bet he’s a brilliant kisser,’ Libby said later as they got ready for bed, both of them lost in their own fantasies about Jago. ‘I wonder if he’d kiss me just once so that I could find out what it feels like to do it properly.’

Lying in a tumbled heap and staring into his wicked, masculine face, Katy remembered her sister’s comment and felt her heart miss a beat.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Escaping,’ he said dryly, glancing in the direction of the manor house where the party was still in full swing. ‘Just as you are, presumably.’

He was expecting an answer but suddenly she found herself horribly tongue-tied and totally unable to speak.

He hunkered down next to her, lifting a dark eyebrow as she shrank away from him. ‘Ah—the shy sister who always avoids me. You know, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.’ He sounded mildly amused. ‘I don’t seduce children.’

She blushed hotly, mortified that he’d read her mind and self-conscious about her appearance. ‘I’m not a child.’ She brushed her tangled blonde hair away from her face and looked at him shyly. ‘It’s my eighteenth birthday today.’

She was supposed to be a woman.

‘I know that. I was invited to the party. If party is the right word.’ His voice was soft and his gaze assessing as it slid over her body with a thoroughness that left her gasping for air. ‘So why are you galloping across the fields wearing a party dress and not much else? Why aren’t you mingling with your guests?’

‘They’re mostly my parents’ friends and colleagues. Contacts.’ She stared into those lazy dark eyes and fought the temptation to blurt out all her problems. What was the point? A man like Jago wouldn’t begin to understand what it was like to have someone dictating your life. He never let anyone dictate to him. ‘I needed to get away.’

‘Hardly surprising. If someone gave me an eighteenth birthday party like that I’d want to get away, too.’ His gaze moved down her bare legs and rested on her feet. ‘What happened to your shoes, Cinderella?’

‘I left them at the stable.’ She tried to scramble to her feet and then gave a yelp of pain as her ankle gave way. ‘Ouch!’

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of him.

He frowned sharply. ‘Let me look at that.’

Without waiting for her permission he slid a strong hand down her leg and examined her ankle. She held her breath and stared in fascination at his long, strong fingers as they moved over the bone, pressing and testing her reaction. Finally he straightened. ‘It’s not broken. You must have sprained it when you fell. You’re lucky you didn’t fracture your skull.’

Strands of her blonde hair trailed onto his forearm and she marvelled at the contrast between them. He was so dark and strong and everything about him was so different to her. Hypnotised by his masculinity, her eyes fixed on the dark hairs on his forearms, travelled slowly upwards over the swell of muscle and then lifted to the stubble shadowing his hard jaw. He was breathtakingly gorgeous and so sexy that her imagination took flight.

She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach and her eyes dropped to his firm mouth, wondering, wishing …

He met her rapt expression with a lazy amusement that was totally male. ‘Stop looking at me like that, princess, or I just might do what you want me to do.’

She blushed and sank her teeth into her lower lip. Miles from anywhere, frustrated beyond belief with her life, she felt suddenly bold. ‘I want you to kiss me.’

She stood totally still, shocked by her own impulsive declaration, but his expression didn’t flicker.

‘I know you do.’

His wicked dark eyes slid down to her mouth and suddenly her breathing was choppy. ‘So will you?’ His gaze lifted. ‘No.’

Her fragile bubble of confidence exploded and she stumbled to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ankle. ‘Because you’re scared of my father?’

He threw back his head and laughed. A rich, masculine sound that made her toes curl.

‘What do you think?’ He was still smiling and she swallowed.

‘I don’t think you’re scared of anything.’ She stared down at her feet, mortified by his rejection. ‘So it’s because I’m not pretty enough.’

There was a long, electric silence and then he slid strong fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

‘You’re beautiful, princess, and you know it.’ His voice was soft and he moved his hand and ran his fingers through her blonde hair with the same easy confidence that he applied to everything. ‘So beautiful that it hurts to look at you.’

‘So why won’t you kiss me?’

‘Because I’m too old to sneak around kissing children.’

‘I’m not a child!’

One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘So why were you running away? Grown-ups don’t run away from problems, Katy. They face them. When you’ve got the courage to kiss me in full view of your father, come back and we’ll talk.’

Grown-ups don’t run away from problems.

And here she was, running again …

She stared at Jago, thinking that he hadn’t changed much. He might be a doctor but it certainly hadn’t softened him. He looked tough and uncompromising and totally self-assured. But, then, Jago Rodriguez had always had confidence by the bucketload.

Ironic really, she reflected as she tightened her fists on the sheet. For all her privileged upbringing she’d never managed to achieve much in the way of confidence.

‘I’m still waiting for you to tell me what you were running from.’

There was a tap on the door and the nurse opened it warily.

‘Miss Westerling’s fiancé is here.’

Jago’s eyes lifted to Katy’s.

There was a long, aching silence and then he stood up, his eyes shuttered. ‘Show him in.’

Freddie came striding in, hidden behind a bouquet of flowers the size of Africa. Despite the pain in her head, Katy gave a weak smile. Unlike Jago, Freddie never veered from protocol. He couldn’t possibly visit someone in hospital and not take flowers.

Freddie presented the flowers and leaned over to kiss her awkwardly on the cheek. ‘Katherine! What the devil happened?’

Katy was hopelessly aware of Jago’s dark scrutiny. ‘I—I crashed my car.’

Freddie looked perplexed. ‘None of us even knew you’d left the party.’

‘Nothing changes,’ Jago murmured in an undertone, but only Katy understood the implications of his softly spoken words.

‘Are you the doctor who sorted her out?’ Freddie extended a hand, his cultured drawl the product of an exclusive public school education. ‘Can’t thank you enough. Will she be all right?’

‘She was lucky. The damage was superficial,’ Jago said, his eyes drifting to the dressing on Katy’s forehead. ‘Stitches out in seven days and the scar will be under the hairline. She’ll be modelling again in a few weeks without a mark to show for it.’

Freddie frowned and Katy realised that Jago didn’t even know she was a doctor. Especially not a doctor who was going to be working for him in this department in two weeks’ time.

Or would she?

Could she really take a job alongside the one man who had the ability to dishevel her otherwise ordered life?

She couldn’t believe that fate would do this to her.

On the other hand, working in A and E was what she really wanted, and if she gave up her father would think he’d won and she’d lose the career she loved.

She looked at Jago. For eleven years he’d been haunting her life. In the shadows of everything she did.

Maybe the only way she was going to move on was to face up to the past.

He was just a man after all.

A man who obviously hadn’t loved her. A man who wasn’t capable of loving anyone.

She had more sense than to fall for Jago again. And she was marrying Freddie.

Conservative, British Freddie who respected convention, could trace his family back six hundred years, spoke with the right accent and always tried to do the right thing.

‘How long does she need to stay in?’ Freddie glanced discreetly at his watch and Katy almost laughed. He was so transparent. He obviously had a meeting that he was desperate to get to. It was like her father all over again. Only Freddie was much, much nicer than her father.

‘You don’t need to stay, Freddie,’ she said gently, and Freddie gave an awkward smile.

‘It’s just that I’ve got dinner with one of the managing directors from Fixed Income and—’

‘It’s OK.’ Her head was throbbing too much to hear about banks. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll be going home tomorrow. Libby can fetch me. I’ll call you.’

‘Well, don’t worry about the car.’ His mind clearly on other things, Freddie leaned forward and gave her another awkward kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll buy you a new one as a wedding present.’

Katy’s eyes slid to Jago but his face gave nothing away, his thick, dark lashes concealing the expression in his eyes. She remembered her father saying that it had been his inscrutability and cool head that had made him such a fearsome reputation at such a young age.

‘I’ll be in touch, then.’ Freddie slid out of the door, leaving the two of them alone once more.

‘So he’s the reason you were running.’ Jago’s voice was even and suddenly Katy felt exhausted.

She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep for ever. She wished her head would stop throbbing.

‘Go away, Jago.’ Before she made a total fool of herself in front of him.

‘Your father’s choice, I presume. I can’t believe you’re marrying him,’ he drawled softly. ‘He’s totally wrong for you.’

Weakened by her injury and the shock of seeing him again, Katy roused herself sufficiently to defend herself.

‘He’s totally right for me. I want to marry Freddie.’

‘Do you? So, tell me, Katy …’ He leaned forward, his voice suddenly soft. ‘If it’s what you want, why did you just drive your car into a ditch?’