His Honourable Surgeon. Kate Hardy
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To his relief, she took the hint and left his office.
Though he could still feel her presence in the room after she’d left. Still smell her perfume. And it made him ache for her.
An ache he dared not let himself soothe.
A MONTH they’d been working together. Four short weeks. And Vicky couldn’t get Jake out of her head. Worst of all, she’d gone to Chloë’s christening, had had a cuddle with her goddaughter at the party afterwards and had had this weird almost-vision of holding another baby.
A baby with huge brown eyes, just like her daddy’s.
This was bad. Really bad. Vicky never, but never, fantasised like that. She didn’t want children and she didn’t want a life partner. She wanted a career. She wanted to blaze a trail in medicine and discover new things. She wanted to save people.
So why couldn’t she get his face out of her head?
It was worse because she’d seen him practically naked at the pool. Jake’s swimming shorts were perfectly demure, but she’d seen him dive into the pool at the gym they both went to. She’d seen his perfect musculature, the light sprinkling of hair on his chest, his strong, sturdy body. And she’d wanted to touch—something that had sent her straight to the side of the pool and out to the showers before she’d done something stupid. Like suggesting breakfast together. And not after a session at the gym, either.
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