style="font-size:15px;"> Geraldine set down the invitation and grabbed her coat, heading out into the hallway with Thomas.
“So much for getting to know patients today.” Geraldine followed him down to his office, where he grabbed his own coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck.
“You are getting to know a patient by going to the hospital and attending Lord Twinsbury. By doing so you’re letting your other future patients know that you care.”
“He just had surgery, you should be the one attending to him. Not me. I’m not the surgeon.”
Which was a bitter pill to swallow.
“And I will be. I am accompanying you after all.” Thomas cocked a head to one side. “You’re not wearing a hat?”
“No, should I be?”
Thomas shrugged. “It’s cold outside.”
“I’m from Scotland. This is not cold for December. This is balmy,” she teased.
“Balmy?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Thomas just shook his head. “Come on, then, my lady, I’m to be your escort to the tube.”
Geri fell into step beside him and they walked down the street toward Regent’s Park Underground Station.
“You know, it’s been some time since I’ve taken public transport,” he said offhandedly.
“Don’t tell me you have a driver as well.”
“Good lord, no. I find it a particular challenge to wrestle my way along the motorways on my daily commute.”
“You’re an interesting character, Mr. Ashwood,” Geri remarked. “Wrestling motorways and painting people in the nude.”
“Oh, yes, which is why you should get to know me better,” he whispered huskily.
“Hmm, that remains to be seen.”
“You still never told me what interests you beyond medicine, Dr. Collins.”
“I do like reading.”
“I do hope it’s racy novels.”
“Naturally,” she teased, completely forgetting herself.
What’re you doing?
“Actually, I love Jane Austen.”
“Most ladies do. I prefer Chaucer myself and Icelandic skalds.”
“You’re a man of many hidden depths.”
“I could say the same about you, Dr. Collins. Except the man bit.”
“I think since we’re going to be partners you can call me Geri.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Geri? No, I think I’ll call you Geraldine.”
“Why? Only my father calls me Geraldine. No one else calls me Geraldine.”
“Except me. Now. Geraldine. I like the sound of it. It’s elegant.”
“Hardly. I always hated the name.”
“You shouldn’t. It suits you.”
“So what do I call you?” she asked.
“You can call me Thomas.”
“Not Tom?” she teased.
“If you expect me to answer, no.”
“You’re so frustrating.” Geri walked ahead of him. “I don’t need an escort to the hospital.”
She was hoping that he would take the hint and head back to the practice, only he didn’t. He kept pace with her.
“Go back to the practice, Mr. Ashwood.”
“I’m hurt. What happened to using our given names?”
“You became pedantic and annoyed me,” Geri said, but a smile hovered on her lips. She was enjoying herself immensely. Which was a bad thing.
“I’ve been called many things, annoying especially, but never pedantic. That’s a new one.”
Geri couldn’t help but laugh as they headed down to the underground at Regent’s Park Station. When they were on the tube, crammed close together as they rode in silence, Thomas glanced down at her.
“Why don’t you like Geraldine? It’s a lovely name,” he asked.
A hot flush crept up her cheeks. No one had ever called her name lovely before. She’d always hated it. Men would usually call her Geri. Geraldine was an old-fashioned name.
“I thought I’d name you Geraldine after your father’s mother since that’s the only thing you’ll be getting from him.”
Of course, Geri had never met her namesake.
“It’s an old-fashioned name.” It was an excuse. She did like her name, but preferred to be called Geri. When she’d learned Geraldine was a connection to her long-absent father who had never come to rescue her, she’d wanted to cut that tie.
She’d learned the hard way that she could rescue herself.
He shrugged. “So is Thomas, but I quite like it. Geri makes you sound like a singer in an all-girl pop band.”
She laughed. “Well, I like Geri.”
“And I like Geraldine. You’ll see it my way soon enough and you’ll be begging me to say your name over and over.” His voice was deep, like thick honey. Honey, which she pictured smearing over his body and licking off.
Blast.
“Are you propositioning me?”
He grinned, a smile that was dangerous and made her feel weak in the knees. “And if I was?”
“I would tell you to keep looking.” She turned her back on him, but couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since a man had flirted with her. When Frederick left her, no one had had anything to do with her. It had been as if she’d been a pariah.
And she’d known there had been a rumor going around that she was a cold fish in bed. Unfeeling. And that could be true. She’d never particularly liked sex. Yet when Thomas flirted with her, her pulse quickened and her body reacted to being so close to him.
He had some kind of spell over her. He was so tall, standing next to her on the tube, that longish dark hair styled so fashionably, the twinkle to his eyes and saucy smirk on his mouth. He was so confident.
She’d forgotten how much she liked the attention and she wished she had half the confidence and appeal he
