his belief that she was still engaged would encourage him to back off.
But she could see from the look in his eyes that he had no intention of backing off. He wanted her and he was going after her with all the ruthless determination that was so much a part of his character.
‘Let yourself go, Katy,’ he advised. ‘Be yourself. Stop trying to be what your parents want you to be.’
Wasn’t that what Libby and Alex were always saying?
‘I am myself,’ she said finally, her mouth dry and her heart pumping hard at the mere thought of being alone on foreign soil with Jago.
‘Then, in that case, there isn’t a problem, is there?’ With a cool smile he reached across his desk and handed her a file. ‘The flights and accommodation are all arranged and the programme is in there—you might like to look at it. I’m presenting on the first day but it runs for four days in total.’
Four days in Jago’s company?
Her mind numb, she took the file, still wondering how her name had come to be added to the list. Jago hadn’t admitted that he’d been responsible but he hadn’t exactly denied it either. And the question was academic now. She could hardly refuse to go without drawing attention to herself. The other doctors saw it as a fantastic opportunity to catch up on the latest developments in the field of emergency medicine and if it had just been about the conference she would have been excited, too.
But it wasn’t about the conference.
It was about being alone with Jago. Jago, who wanted nothing more than to resume their physical relationship—something that would lead to yet more heartbreak.
Would she have the willpower to resist him?
CHAPTER EIGHT
EXACTLY three days later Katy found herself standing on the balcony of a hotel in the Spanish city of Seville.
The heat of the summer sun, even so late in the afternoon, was almost unbearable and she retreated into the welcome cool of her suite.
Stepping away from the balcony, she stared in awe at the room again, wondering how she could possibly have been booked into anything so sumptuous.
This was the first time she’d attended a medical conference in her career, but she’d assumed that relatively junior doctors like herself usually had to make do with pretty humble accommodation.
But there was nothing humble about her room. It reflected the Moorish influence on the city, with a décor so opulent that it made her feel as though she should be dressed in seven veils and prepared for a harem.
As she reached for her suitcase, there was a knock on the door and one of the hotel staff delivered her a letter.
Surprised, she tore it open and immediately recognised the bold, black scrawl.
‘Be ready at 7. Jago.’
Her fingers tightened on the note and her heart rate sped into the distance. It was typical of Jago to arrogantly assume she’d be willing to spend an evening with him. And equally typical for him not to disclose what he had in mind.
The conference didn’t officially start until tomorrow, but she knew that there was a welcoming dinner for the delegates.
He must be planning to escort her to that.
Suddenly she had butterflies in her stomach. She shouldn’t go with him. She really, really shouldn’t …
But she’d been planning to attend the dinner anyway and it would certainly be more relaxing to be with someone she knew, she reasoned. And they’d be surrounded by other delegates. What could possibly happen?
Helplessly acknowledging just how much she wanted to spend an evening with Jago, she gave a sigh.
Why not?
Just one evening and she’d make sure that she slept in her own room at the end of the night.
Not wanting to dwell on her decision for too long, she glanced at her watch.
If he was collecting her at seven then she had less than two hours to find something suitable to wear and get ready for the evening, and she hadn’t even had time to unpack yet.
She opened her case and gave a gasp of surprise.
Instead of the businesslike dresses and co-ordinates that she’d packed in blacks and other muted colours, the case contained what appeared to be an entire summer wardrobe in vibrant, eye-catching colours and designs.
At first she thought that there’d been a mix up with her luggage but then she saw the note attached to the inside of the case.
‘Time to stop locking yourself away. Enjoy. Love, Libby and Alex.’
She sat down on the bed with a plop. Somehow Libby had managed to switch the entire contents of her case without her noticing. Instead of her usual safe, understated wardrobe, she was confronted by a rainbow of bright, sexy clothing.
She swallowed as she fingered the first item of clothing that came to hand. It was a strappy top in aquamarine, which came with a silk skirt in myriad complementary colours.
Rummaging further into the case, she found a selection of similar clothes. Short, flirty summer dresses, skirts, T-shirts, even a very brief bikini.
Spreading them out on the bed, Katy stared at them helplessly. They were the sort of clothes she would never have selected for herself. The woman who wore them would be confident of her feminine appeal and happy to flaunt it. But she wasn’t that sort of woman.
Or was she?
Without intending to, she found herself picking up the strappy top and holding it against her as she looked at herself in the mirror. The colour seemed to intensify the blue of her eyes and the soft blush of her complexion.
She smiled, suddenly feeling like a little girl dressing up.
Why shouldn’t she wear it? She wasn’t speaking at the conference. In fact, she wasn’t doing anything except listening to other people and learning. Apart from Jago, no one knew who she was. She didn’t have to create an impression. She didn’t need to worry about being taken seriously.
Telling herself that wanting to look good had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was spending the evening with Jago, she tugged the top over her head and frowned as she noticed the way it clung to the roundness of her breasts. For someone who usually wore loose shirts in nondescript colours it seemed incredibly daring.
Feeling ridiculously light-headed, she pulled on the skirt and rummaged for something to put on her feet, smiling as she found a pair of Libby’s favourite designer shoes at the bottom of the case.
The heels were ridiculous and she’d probably break an ankle, but they matched the outfit perfectly.
Having brushed
