to stop resenting her; or she could tackle the problem head on and come to some kind of understanding with him. She’d grown up with their family motto, tenacitas per aspera—strength through adversity—so the second option was the one the rest of the Lindfords would choose.
Tackling him head on it was.
The next day, she was in Cubicles and Daniel was in Resus. Just as Sam had done, the previous day, she slipped into Resus at lunchtime. Daniel was on his own, to her relief, and it looked as if he was writing up notes. ‘Dr Capaldi. Just the man I wanted to see,’ she said.
He gave her a cool look. ‘Something I can help you with, Ms Lindford?’
‘Yes. I’m buying you lunch.’
‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary.’
He was trying to fob her off? Well, she wasn’t put off that easily. ‘I rather think it is. You and I need a chat.’
‘Hardly.’
‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I’m not pulling rank, but I think there’s a problem and we need to sort it out rather than let it grow out of proportion.’
‘There isn’t a problem,’ he said.
‘Then have lunch with me.’
He looked reluctant.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to put arsenic in your coffee,’ she said. ‘Apart from anything else, I don’t have the licence to get hold of that grade of poison.’
He didn’t even crack a smile.
Taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until his teeth rattled wouldn’t achieve anything other than a temporary relief from frustration. She folded her arms to help her resist the temptation. ‘I could offer you a pair of boxing gloves, if that would make you feel better. Though I should probably make you aware that I could take you in the gym.’
He blinked. ‘You box?’
‘I box,’ she confirmed. Her personal trainer had suggested it, and boxing had been one of the things that had got her on the slow road back from rock bottom. ‘I might be a galumphing five foot ten, but I’m very light on my feet. I can do the whole Muhammed Ali thing. So. Your choice. Boxing gloves or lunch?’
‘Lunch. Because I’d never hit a woman.’
‘I wouldn’t have any qualms about hitting you in the ring,’ she said.
Was that a fleeting and grudging glimpse of respect she saw in his face?
‘But I think coffee night be more civilised,’ she said.
He didn’t make polite conversation on the way to the canteen, but neither did she. And although Daniel protested when she insisted on paying for his sandwiches, Beatrice gave him the look she reserved for patients who were drunk and obnoxious on a Saturday night and he backed off.
‘Thank you for lunch,’ he muttered when they sat down.
At least he had manners. Even if he wouldn’t look her in the eye. And that was going to change, too. She’d make him smile at her if it killed her.
‘Let’s put our cards on the table. I understand why you don’t like me. I got the job that everyone thought had your name written all over it. Of course you resent me.’
‘Not true,’ he said.
She scoffed. ‘You were the only person who didn’t take a brownie yesterday.’
‘Because I don’t like chocolate.’
That hadn’t occurred to her. But she hadn’t finished with her evidence. ‘And you didn’t come to my welcome drink after your shift.’
‘And you think that was because I’m sulking?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Everyone else thought my name was on that job. That’s the only bit you got right.’
She frowned. ‘So what’s your take on it?’
‘Not that it’s anybody’s business, but I didn’t actually apply for the job.’
She stared at him. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I didn’t,’ he confirmed. ‘Because I can’t give the department what it needs, right now. I’m a single dad, and my son’s needs come before the job. Always.’
She blew out a breath. ‘Fair enough. I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, you do now.’
‘Then I apologise for jumping to conclusions.’
* * *
Daniel hadn’t expected her to react quite like that. He’d expected her to go haughty on him, as she had the previous day.
And he hadn’t exactly been fair to her. He could’ve told her that he wasn’t going to her welcome drinks, and why. Instead, he’d chickened out and just avoided her.
He needed to put that right. ‘And I’m sorry for letting you think I resent you for taking my job.’
‘OK. So we’re saying now that the problem between us isn’t a problem.’
Oh, there was a problem, all right. His libido was practically sitting up and begging. But he was just going to have to ignore it. ‘There isn’t a problem,’ he lied. ‘Welcome to Muswell Hill.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And you didn’t have to buy me lunch.’
‘Call it in lieu of the drink you didn’t have last night,’ she said.
He inclined his head. ‘Then thank you.’ Polite, he could do.
‘So how old is your son?’ she asked.
‘Four.’ Was it his imagination, or did she just flinch?
Imagination, maybe, because then she smiled. ‘It’s a lovely age. My youngest nephew is four.’
She had a killer smile. If Daniel hadn’t known it was anatomically impossible, he would’ve said that his heart had just done a backflip. But, for Iain’s sake, he couldn’t act on the attraction he felt towards Beatrice Lindford. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into the little boy’s life—someone who might not stick around. Someone who was, to all intents and purposes, his boss. It would be too complicated. Inappropriate. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, not sure quite what to say to her. How to stop this from tipping over into personal stuff he didn’t want to share. Such as why he was a single dad.
‘Stating the obvious, but from your accent it sounds as if you’re from Scotland.’
‘Glasgow,’ he confirmed.
‘With
