crossed, she was going to take advantage of the relative calm and spend some time in the library studying.
‘Oh, good.’ A very familiar voice rumbled around her, its timbre as rich and smooth as a Barossa Valley cabernet sauvignon. ‘There you are.’
Shock stuck the sticky bun to the roof of her mouth and she tried desperately to dislodge it with a slurp of tea. The hot liquid went down the wrong way and she coughed violently, trying to get her breath. The next minute, Alistair’s face was pushed in close to hers with his brows pulled down sharply.
‘Can you get air?’
She shook her head but he misunderstood and the next minute the side of his hand sliced down between her shoulder blades like a karate chop. The snaps on her bra bit into her skin. ‘Ouch.’
‘Good,’ he said, cheerfully reappearing back in front of her. ‘I need you alive today.’
‘Just today?’ she said waspishly as the tangy scent of his sweat hit her nostrils. She worked hard at resisting the urge to breathe in deeply. ‘I rather like being alive every day.’
‘As do I. Live every day as if it’s your last.’
She took a careful sip of tea. ‘I’ve often found people who say that use it as an excuse to be selfish.’
His smile faded and a line of tension ran along his jaw, disappearing up behind his ear. ‘That’s a very jaundiced view of humanity.’
She welcomed the familiar antagonism vibrating between them and relaxed into it, giving thanks that everything was back to normal. ‘Not at all. It’s merely an observation about how some people live their lives with little thought or regard for how their actions impact on others.’
His eyes darkened and he looked as if he was about to say something when he suddenly helped himself to a currant bun. She was oddly disappointed that he wasn’t going to take the discussion further. Sparring in a robust debate with Alistair North was far safer than confiding in him.
Or kissing him.
She suddenly felt stranded standing there in the small pantry. She was far too aware of him and how his mouth, which had savoured hers so thoroughly last night, was now relishing the currant bun. Too aware of how his tight behind was pressed hard against the bench and how his long, running-fit legs stretched out in front of him. She suddenly wanted to invoke the staff dress code she’d been lectured on during her orientation program.
He raised his hand to his mouth and one by one he meticulously licked the sugar from the bun off his fingers. She swallowed a gasp as her body clenched and then sighed in delight. The memory of how he tasted was burned on her brain—spicy with a hint of citrus zip. And hot. Oh-so-flaming hot.
I thought the kiss never happened so why are we doing this?
She cleared her throat. ‘I best go and write up the medication changes.’
‘Bailey can do that.’
‘Excuse me?’
He pushed off the bench. ‘Get Bailey to do the medication changes and chase up the test results. I’ve got some far more interesting work for you.’
A skitter of excitement whipped through her. There’d been a rumour going around that a charity in India was making overtures to the castle in regards to separating a set of conjoined twins. Being part of the multidisciplinary team from the planning stages through to the massive operation and postoperative care would be the chance of a lifetime.
‘Oh?’ she said, far more casually than she felt.
‘We’re giving a paper at the spring symposium.’
A streak of surprise was followed by a trickle of dread. ‘We?’ She hated that it came out on a squeak.
He nodded. ‘It’s the tradition across all the medical departments that the specialist registrar in his or her last year of their fellowship always gives a joint presentation with their consultant.’ He scratched his head and his brow furrowed. ‘Did I not mention this to you when you first arrived?’
No! ‘You did not,’ she said, trying to sound calm. The dread was now spinning her stomach and sending out wave upon wave of nausea. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it.’
‘Oh, well, not to worry,’ he said with a grin that held a modicum of contrition. ‘Lucky it’s quiet so we should meet tomorrow’s deadline.’
‘Tomorrow.’ Her screech of disbelief could have given a sulphur-crested cockatoo a run for its money. ‘But the symposium’s still weeks away.’
‘The papers are due tomorrow. The admin staff need time to print and bind them and prepare the handouts for the attendees.’
‘We can’t write a paper in a day.’ She hated the squeak in her voice.
‘Of course we can,’ he said with all the easy confidence of someone who’d never had to think twice about reading or writing. ‘Some of the best papers I’ve ever written have happened at that adrenaline-fuelled last-minute deadline.’ Memories filled his handsome face. ‘It’s such a buzz to pull an all-nighter and finish as the fingers of dawn are lighting up the city.’
The very idea made her gag. ‘That’s not the way I work,’ she countered, desperately clutching at straws. ‘I mean, we don’t even have a topic.’
‘Of course we’ve got a topic,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘I wouldn’t do that to you.’
‘I guess I should be thankful for small mercies,’ she said sarcastically.
‘I’m sorry it slipped my mind, Claire. Your predecessor, Harry Banks, was supposed to write the paper, but as you know, he left us the moment things started looking rocky for the castle.’ His face filled with kindness. ‘I’m aware you like things to be ordered and just so, but believe me, stepping out of your comfort zone every now and then makes you feel alive.’
Oh. My. God. He was serious. He honestly thought he was doing her a favour. Her heart thumped so hard she was sure he must hear it. ‘What’s the topic?’ she asked weakly.
His face lit up. ‘Epilepsy surgery’s the most effective way to control seizures in patients with drug-resistant focal epilepsy. I’ve got all the data. It’s just a matter of assembling it and stringing it together with some well-chosen case studies. Don’t panic. Most people prefer to attend the summer symposium on the Continent. The spring one’s the smallest of the three. Think of it as a test run. If the paper’s well received there, we can work it up into something bigger for The Lancet. Too easy.’ He laughed. ‘Isn’t that what you Aussie’s like to say?’
‘Something like that,’ she said faintly. The task he was asking her to undertake would be a significant one for most people, but for her the short time frame made it monumentally huge. Hopefully, she could find a quiet corner in the library where she could spread out the data and work her way through it slowly and methodically. ‘I guess I better make a start, then.’
‘Excellent.’ He gave her warm smile. ‘Give me fifteen minutes to grab a quick shower and then meet me in my office.’
No, no, no! Working alongside Alistair
