The Spanish Consultant's Baby. Kate Hardy

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have a lot of middle ear infections and that can lead to deafness, so you must take her to the doctor whenever you think she might have an ear infection.’

      ‘Regular hearing checks are a good idea, too,’ Jennifer added. ‘As well as checking her blood pressure. She’s also more likely to get diabetes and thyroid problems, but we can do regular checks at clinic.’

      ‘So where do we start?’ Fran asked.

      ‘We can book you into clinic and give you some leaflets about the condition from the support groups,’ Jennifer said. ‘You need some time to think about it, decide what you want to do and what’s best for Lottie.’ She gave the little girl a hug. ‘Well done, Lottie. Show Mummy what a lovely picture you’ve drawn.’

      ‘It’s me, you, Daddy and Raphie,’ Lottie said, handing her mother a piece of paper. ‘Our family.’

      A tear trickled down Fran’s cheek. Jennifer stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I know it’s a bit of a shock, but, honestly, Lottie can lead a perfectly normal life. As long as she’s got a family who loves her, she’ll be fine.’

      A family who loves her. Something Jennifer had never had. She pushed the thought away. She didn’t need a family. She had the ward. And that was enough. It had to be.

      If he didn’t get a move on, he’d miss her. Ramón stuffed his white coat in his locker, grabbed his briefcase and made his way to Jennifer’s office. It was empty. Maybe she was changing. He had no idea which way she’d go home—did she live near enough to walk, or did she park in the staff spaces next to the old Victorian entrance to the hospital?—but she would definitely have to go through the reception of the paediatric ward.

      He lingered deliberately, pretending to check through some leaflets. And then the back of his neck heated. He turned round to find that his early-warning system was spot on. She was just leaving the ward.

      Her out-of-uniform clothing was just as unassuming as he’d expected. A pair of jeans, a loose navy T-shirt and flat shoes. She was a million miles away from the fashion clotheshorses he’d dated in the past. And yet she still had the power to make his heart miss a beat. What was it about her?

      As she pushed through the double doors, he fell into step beside her. ‘Jennifer, I didn’t have a chance to thank you properly for your help with the Harpers.’

      She shrugged. ‘It’s my job.’

      ‘But it was appreciated.’

      ‘Fine,’ she said coolly.

      ‘Jennifer, is there a problem?’ he asked.

      ‘Only the memo I received this afternoon. I don’t like being manipulated, Ramón.’

      She’d said his name without prompting this time. That was a good sign…but her eyes said otherwise. She was furious with him. ‘I didn’t mean to manipulate you.’

      ‘No? So you didn’t pull strings to get Pete to write that memo, then?’

      He sighed. ‘How else was I going to persuade you to go out with me, except to treat it as work?’

      ‘By asking me.’

      ‘I did. You refused.’

      ‘Exactly. And don’t use that “I’m a lonely Spaniard in a strange city” line with me. You could have asked anyone else on the ward.’

      ‘True.’

      ‘So why didn’t you?’

      ‘Because I wanted you,’ he said softly.

      ‘Well, you can’t have me.’

      ‘Your blood sugar’s low.’

      She frowned. ‘What?’

      ‘You’re grumpy. It’s a side-effect of low blood sugar—therefore you clearly need some food. Let me take you to dinner.’

      ‘I’ve already said no.’

      ‘So you’ll leave me stuck in my lonely hotel room?’

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not staying in a hotel. You’ve got a hospital flat.’

      So she’d been interested enough to find that out. Good. That was a step in the right direction. He shrugged. ‘I’m still stuck on my own, in a place I don’t know.’ She didn’t utter a word, but her face said it all for her—she thought he was spinning her a line.

      ‘It isn’t a chat-up line,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t know your city. And…I could use a friend.’

      She stopped dead. ‘Friend?’

      ‘Friend.’ He tucked her arm through his and continued walking, careful to match his stride to hers. ‘And friends have dinner together, do they not?’

      ‘Ramón, you’re bulldozing me.’

      ‘That expression isn’t familiar to me.’

      She snorted. ‘Come off it. Your English is damn near perfect.’ His accent was so slight that it was almost undetectable. ‘This isn’t your first secondment abroad, is it?’

      ‘No,’ he admitted.

      ‘So where were you before?’

      ‘Have dinner with me and I’ll tell you.’

      ‘You’re infuriating.’

      ‘Are you stereotyping me, cariña?’

      ‘If you insist on behaving like a stereotype.’

      The fire in her eyes was promising. More than promising. He gave her a mischievous smile. ‘Maybe I need you to teach me some manners.’

      She tried to pull her arm away. ‘Leave me alone, Ramón.’

      ‘Have dinner with me,’ he coaxed. ‘Just as a friend. My treat.’

      She was silent for a long, long time. He wasn’t sure whether she was going to argue with him or accept he’d outmanoeuvred her. To his relief, finally, she nodded. ‘All right. There’s a pub by the river. They do reasonable food. Though we’ll split the bill,’ she warned.

       CHAPTER THREE

      TWENTY minutes later, they were sitting on the pub’s terrace, overlooking the river. Ramón insisted on buying the drinks, so Jennifer accepted a sparkling mineral water. Ramón surprised her by choosing the same.

      He looked up from his menu. ‘What do you recommend?’

      ‘Aren’t you going to order for me?’

      He smiled. ‘Why would I do that when I don’t know your likes and dislikes?’

      Andrew

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