alone to get on with my job.’
Tori was laughing. ‘You’re amazing. You’d have to be the only female in the entire hospital who would complain about having to spend time with Dr Tall, Dark and Handsome. Enjoy it. You’ll be the envy of all the women in town.’
Annie couldn’t imagine being able to enjoy one single minute of it and she’d happily swap places with Tori. With anyone, for that matter. ‘I’m sure you’ll get your turn, he’s bound to need your services while he’s here,’ she replied. ‘You can make sure you have yourself on the roster when they’re filming. You can show your face on camera and then they won’t need me.’
‘I’ll be in Theatre with a mask over my face,’ Tori grumbled, as she picked up her coffee and moved away from the counter. ‘Hey, maybe you could just start wearing a mask for your consults—that would solve your problem.’
Annie didn’t bother to respond to that comment. She just glared at Tori as she stirred milk into her coffee but Tori wasn’t finished.
‘Caspar St Claire.’ She sighed. ‘He even sounds like a movie star.’
Annie snorted. ‘He probably changed his name for television. I mean, really, who has a name like that?’
‘You don’t like my name, Dr Simpson?’
Damn it. Annie closed her eyes and groaned silently. He’d sneaked up on her and caught her out again. She was going to have to be more careful. She opened her eyes to find Tori trying to stifle a smile. Great. She turned round and came face to face with Dr Tall, Dark and Handsome.
He wasn’t trying to stifle a smile. In fact, he was smirking. At her expense. How she’d love to wipe that look off his face but the only way she could think of doing that was by telling him she didn’t like his name. And that wasn’t true. It was a name that rolled smoothly off the tongue, a name that wouldn’t be easily forgotten. Smooth and unforgettable. Much like the man himself, she guessed. Real or not, his name suited him.
‘You have a very nice name,’ she admitted grudgingly, ‘but it’s unusual enough to make me wonder if you made it up.’ She had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. He was several inches taller than her, an inch or two over six feet, she guessed, and from her viewpoint the strong angles of his jaw, darkened by the shadow of his beard, were even more obvious.
‘I admit it’s unusual but I assure you it’s the name my parents gave me. I can’t practise medicine under any other,’ he replied.
Annie shrugged. He’d made a fair point.
‘I seem to be needing to assure you of a lot of things, Dr Simpson.’ He was standing close enough that Annie could see where his day’s growth of beard was beginning to darken his jaw and she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. She looked down, away from his inquisitive green eyes, but she was still aware of the little puffs of soft, warm air that smelt of peppermint and brushed her cheekbones when he spoke to her.
‘Is there anything else that’s bothering you?’ he asked. ‘I’d really like you to be on board with this project. As the hospital’s obstetrician and paediatrician our paths will cross often, and if we can find a way to work together I think it will be to everyone’s advantage. Should we clear the air some more while we have time?’
She looked up again, dragging her eyes away from the broad expanse of his chest to meet his eyes. At this distance she could see they were flecked with brown. Annoyed with herself for noticing, she retorted, ‘You may have the time, Dr St Claire, but I’m very busy so if you’ll excuse me I have patients to see.’
She knew she sounded snippy but he was standing too close. She was too aware of him. Of his green eyes, of his broad shoulders, of his breath on her skin, and his proximity was playing havoc with her senses, making it impossible for her to think. She couldn’t cope with him in her personal space. She hadn’t worked out how she was going to deal with him yet. Not in her hospital or in her life. She needed distance. It was the only thing that was going to work for her. She needed to leave. Now.
She picked up her coffee, gripping the cardboard cup so tightly it was in danger of being crushed, and stalked off, glaring at Tori to make sure her friend followed her. She didn’t want to leave her consorting with the enemy.
‘That was rude,’ Tori admonished as she hurried to keep pace with Annie. ‘You’ll need to play nicely. He could arrange to make you look bad on camera.’
‘He wouldn’t!’ Annie’s stride faltered. She hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences of her behaviour.
‘No, probably not,’ Tori admitted. ‘If you’d been listening to Gail you would have heard that their intention isn’t to paint any of us in a bad light but to give people an insight into what goes on inside a hospital. But I’m sure they’re not averse to showing any sparks that might be flying between patients and their families or families and staff or even just between the staff. And where those sparks come from is probably irrelevant—antagonistic or friendly, they all make for good television. But don’t forget, Gail’s first priority will be to Caspar. She has no loyalty to you so my advice is to play nicely.’
Annie cursed her bad luck. Why had the television network decided to film here? All she wanted was to be left in peace, to be left alone to do her work. Working under the scrutiny of cameras wasn’t part of her agenda. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight and she had no intention of being a celebrity doctor.
If she didn’t give permission to include her in the series then Caspar St Claire wouldn’t have the opportunity to make her look bad. But she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to play nicely just in case. But it would be even better if she could avoid him altogether.
That plan worked for the rest of the afternoon. Almost.
Annie was heading home, exiting through the main lobby, when the front page of the local paper caught her eye. Caspar was smiling up at her from the centre of the page, looking just as handsome in black and white as he did in the flesh. Curiosity got the better of her and she stopped and picked up the paper, noticing that it was a couple of days old already.
She flicked it open and as she unfolded it Caspar’s photographed companion came into view. A tall, attractive blonde woman, Annie recognised her as the host of a popular light entertainment show. Her curiosity piqued further, she began to read the article. Naturally it started by espousing Caspar’s talents as the local boy who was returning to his home town as a celebrity doctor and went on to talk about the success of the television series. Annie opened the paper, turning to page four to continue reading, interested to see what the journalist had to say about the woman on Caspar’s arm.
‘Anything interesting in there?’
Annie jumped as Caspar’s warm-treacle tones broke her concentration, interrupting her before she got to the gossip. She looked up, taking in his narrow hips, grey suit and broad shoulders almost as a reflex before her eyes came to rest on his face. One corner of his mouth lifted in the beginning of a smile and she could see the humour in his eyes as he waited for her to deny that she’d been reading about him. But there was no use pretending she hadn’t been hunting for information.
‘You interrupted me before I got to the good bit,’ she replied.
The smile that had been threatening to begin now broke across his face as he laughed. ‘If there’s anything you need to know, why don’t you ask me? I’ll trade you a question for a question.’
She
