A Cotswold Christmas Bride. Joanna Neil

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A Cotswold Christmas Bride - Joanna Neil Mills & Boon Medical

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too low, that could be adding to his problems. And of course we should admit him right away.’

      ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Lucas acknowledged. He gave a wry smile as though he knew just what was going on in her head. For her own part, she wanted to avoid even thinking about that night, but it stubbornly refused to go away. It stuck to her like a burr and irritated her just as much.

      Lucas spoke to the child’s parents, while Sophie managed to escape the room by going off to make arrangements for James to be admitted to Paediatrics. She was saddened to see the little boy looking so ill. He was frail, not speaking, too wretched to do anything but lie there.

      She added her notes to his chart and went in search of the young house officer. She found her a few minutes later, by the reception desk, chatting with Lucas. Debbie was clearly taken with him, and who could blame her? The man oozed charisma and from the whispering she’d heard amongst the nurses in the last few minutes, Sophie guessed the new registrar had scored a direct hit with all the female staff. She stiffened. Men were capricious at the best of times when it came to lapping up the attention of young women, and it seemed that Dr Lucas Blake was no exception. All the more reason for her to steer clear of him!

      She left the boy’s chart with Debbie and started to head back towards Paediatrics.

      Lucas caught up with her in the main corridor outside the treatment rooms. ‘Sophie, wait …’ He blocked her path, causing her to slow down and frown at him.

      ‘I’m in rather a hurry,’ she warned him. ‘I have to go and see to my patients.’

      ‘I understand … I know how busy you must be.’ He smiled, looking her over, taking in the sleek lines of the figure-hugging dress she wore beneath her white coat. ‘How is it that you always manage to look so good? Even a doctor’s jacket looks great on you.’

      Her gaze locked with his. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time trying to sweet-talk me, if I were you,’ she told him. ‘Other men have been down that road and, I promise you, I’m immune.’

      He shook his head. ‘So distrustful,’ he murmured. ‘Those men have a lot to answer for.’ He studied her. ‘I’m sorry if I took you by surprise back there—I was hoping we might meet under different circumstances. I’d planned on wining and dining you, and perhaps winning you round with soft lights and music.’

      Her eyes narrowed on him. ‘It sounds as though you were very sure of yourself.’

      ‘Not exactly … but I wasn’t about to give up on seeing you again.’ He smiled. ‘I’d do anything to see you relax and lose that worried look. It can’t be right for you to be wound up quite so tightly.’

      She pulled a face. He was probably right about her being wound up. Even now, she was stressed out. Her stomach was knotted, and there was a pain deep in her abdomen. Come to think of it, her hands ached, too. Weren’t those all the signs of burnout? She was too young, surely? She was still a good two years off thirty.

      Perhaps she ought to go back to her GP, to find out if there was any news on the tests he’d done.

      ‘Problems?’ He was watching her, studying her features, as though he would learn everything there was to know about her.

      She straightened her shoulders. ‘None at all.’

      ‘Really? You know, the only time I’ve seen you looking truly serene was when you were stretched out on the bed, back at the hotel, oblivious to everything. You were exquisite, and oddly vulnerable, and I had the strangest urge to protect you from whatever it was that was haunting you.’

      Sophie’s composure began to falter. ‘On balance,’ she managed, ‘I dare say we should forget all about what happened the other day. I’d far sooner put it behind us.’

      ‘Of course.’ A faint smile played over his beautifully moulded mouth, and Sophie felt her stomach tighten all over again. He might as well have taken a photograph—she knew, and he knew, that her image was printed on his brain for evermore.

      She stiffened her shoulders. ‘I really need to get back to Paediatrics, Lucas. I have to see a young patient with heart problems, and I want to be there when James arrives on the ward.’

      He nodded. ‘Maybe we could meet up at lunchtime? I’d love to hear how you’re getting on at the farm. My parents are in the same line of business, so if you have any worries on that score, I might be able to help.’

      ‘I’m sure I’ll manage—unless …’ she gave a crooked smile ‘… you have any ideas on how to curb a playful goat who won’t stop butting people at inopportune moments? His horns are curved, but they can be quite tough, and I can tell you I’m getting quite sore.’

      He laughed. ‘No wonder you’re feeling the strain.

      I’d be the same way if I had to fend off an aggressive goat before work. A bit of padding down your jeans, perhaps? All I know is, it’s best to train them off the habit when they’re young.’

      She nodded. ‘Yes, we tried that, but George is very stubborn. He thinks he rules the roost—along with the goose, who believes it’s his job to keep the hens in order.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Sorry, but I must go.’

      ‘I’ll see you at lunchtime, then? One o’clock, in the restaurant. My treat.’

      ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘If I can get away.’ With any luck, she’d find a reason why she needed to be on the ward at one o’clock. Instinct warned her that she should steer clear of Lucas. He was keen to start up some kind of relationship with her, and that was the last thing she wanted. She’d been hurt before, and she wasn’t looking to go that way again.

      He watched her walk away, and she felt his gaze scorching into her back as she went through the wide glass doors and out into the corridor. He was persistent, that was for sure.

      On the paediatric ward, Sophie went to see Marcus, her little patient who was suffering from heart problems. He was four years old, a generally bright, happy child, but he was back in hospital right now, suffering from shortness of breath and trouble with his blood pressure. He was receiving oxygen through tubing that fitted into his nostrils.

      ‘Hello, Marcus,’ she greeted him. He had dark, tousled hair, and mischievous brown eyes that sought her out whenever she was close by. Now he was concentrating hard on a jigsaw puzzle, his tongue thrust out over his lower lip as he searched for the right piece. ‘How are you getting on with the puzzle?’

      Marcus frowned. ‘Can’t find pussycat’s ear,’ he said. ‘I had it, but then my leg hurt and jumped up and it made me knock the puzzle over. It went … whoosh.’ He waved his arms in a wide arc to show Sophie what had happened.

      ‘Oh dear … so now you’ve had to start all over again?’

      He nodded.

      ‘That’s a shame … but you seem to be doing very well, all the same. You’ve done half of it already.’

      It was worrying that he’d started having leg cramps again—it was a sign that the circulation to the lower half of his body was weak, one of the symptoms of his condition. He had been born with a narrowing of the aorta, the main blood vessel of the heart, and that could only be corrected by surgery.

      She looked around. ‘I wonder if any of

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