‘but I do a couple of dance classes a week and I walk my neighbour’s dog at weekends. That’s my preferred way of keeping fit.’
He should back off. It was none of his business. And he wasn’t supposed to start being interested in someone else. This was work. But he couldn’t stop the question coming out. ‘What sort of dance classes?’
‘Salsa on Tuesdays and Latin ballroom dancing on Thursdays. I’m not elegant enough to do the waltz or the foxtrot,’ she explained, ‘but I love dancing the samba and the cha-cha-cha.’
The fun and bouncy stuff. That didn’t surprise him. From what he’d seen of her so far, that summed up Jenna Harris very neatly. ‘So was the danceathon your idea?’
‘Guilty as charged.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘But everyone else on the committee said it sounded like a lot of fun, or we wouldn’t have done it.’
‘OK. Count me in for helping on a stall,’ he said. And then his mouth ran away with him. He was supposed to be keeping things professional and slightly distant, not putting himself in a position where he’d see more of her. But the words came out anyway. ‘I can help set up, too, if you like.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him. ‘And maybe I can talk you into just one dance.’
‘Maybe. No promises,’ he warned.
‘Sure.’ Her smile broadened, which told him she had every intention of breaking down his resistance.
Well, she had no chance there. His intentions were stronger still: to keep a professional distance between himself and Jenna. Yes, she was attractive and he liked her very much—but he wasn’t risking his heart again. As far as he was concerned, they were strictly colleagues.
‘I guess we ought to get back,’ he said. ‘Thank you for lunch.’
‘My pleasure. And thank you for agreeing to help with the danceathon.’
‘Prego,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘If only you’d joined us a month ago. I bet you could’ve charmed a ton of money out of everyone who walked through the hospital doors by smiling at them and speaking in Italian. You would’ve been our secret weapon.’ She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Would you be good at general knowledge, by any chance?’
‘I’m reasonable,’ he said.
‘You’re polite, so I’m guessing you’re understating your talents because you don’t want to boast about how good you are. Right. That settles it. I’m co-opting you onto our departmental quiz team, too.’
‘You,’ he said, ‘are scary. All that sweet, sweet smile, baby-blue eyes and butter-wouldn’t-melt expression—but you’ve got everyone organised and agreeing to things before they even have time to blink, haven’t you?’
‘Jenna the hustler—that’s me,’ she said, looking totally unrepentant. ‘If I could actually play pool, I’d make gazillions out of unwary punters and we’d have the best-equipped paediatric department in the country.’
He couldn’t help laughing. Even though he wanted to keep her at a distance, her warmth, her charm and her sheer chutzpah were irresistible. He would’ve liked to find something about her that wiped out that pull of attraction. But even her bossiness had a charm to it. She was nice. He’d have to rely on the determination that had got him through the miserable months when his marriage imploded, and keep things professional between them. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to get a ton of money out of your danceathon. And I bet you’ll drive a hard bargain with a toy shop afterwards.’
‘Cost price, that’s what I’m after,’ she said. ‘So if you know someone with contacts to a wholesaler or a toy shop, I’m all ears.’
‘Sorry. I can’t help with that one.’
‘That’s OK. You’re helping me set up, you’re manning a stall for a bit, and you agreed to one dance. That’ll do nicely.’
Lorenzo was pretty sure he hadn’t actually agreed to one dance. But he was equally sure that Jenna wasn’t going to let him get away with it. ‘Let’s get back to the ward,’ he said. Where he’d be able to focus on work, and have the space to damp down the unexpected feelings that were threatening to turn him upside down.
‘OH, NOW, THAT smells fabulous,’ Jenna said, walking into the kitchen and hugging her twin. ‘Tell me that’s your lasagne cooking in the oven, Lu.’
‘It is.’ Lucy hugged her back. ‘It’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Grab a glass of wine. Will’s in the living room with his nose in a book. How was your day?’
‘Fine.’ Jenna poured herself half a glass of wine. ‘The new senior reg started today.’
‘What’s he or she like?’
‘He’s nice. Robert asked me to look after him in the PAU today.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Because you, my dear sister, are brilliant at tucking new people under your wing.’
‘Because I had a good example to follow in the best primary school teacher ever,’ Jenna pointed out, and lifted her glass in a toast. ‘So how was your day?’
‘Fine. Ava spent the whole day chatting.’
Jenna grinned. ‘That’s because she takes after her aunt.’
‘Strictly speaking—’ Lucy began.
‘I’m her aunt,’ Jenna said firmly. ‘Lu, we’ve been through this enough times. In every way, Ava is your and Will’s daughter. All I did was lend you my womb for a few months—which I know you would have done for me if our situations had been the other way round.’
‘Of course I would.’ Lucy bit her lip. ‘Though the egg was yours, too.’
‘And, as we’re identical twins, that means our genes are the same, so my egg is exactly the same as yours would’ve been,’ Jenna reminded her. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Ava’s biologically yours, as well as legally and morally.’
Their friends and family—apart from one notable exception—had all been supportive about the surrogate pregnancy, but Jenna knew Lucy felt guilty about it. And usually Lucy’s doubts came to the surface when someone had upset her on the subject. ‘Has someone said something to you?’ she asked gently.
‘No—well, yes,’ Lucy admitted.
‘I hope you told them to walk a mile in your shoes and learn a few facts before they give you any more of their uninformed opinions.’
Lucy winced. ‘It’s my fault. The subject of surrogacy came up at toddler group. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.’
‘You have nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, your story might actually help someone who’s struggling with the same issues you went through, and could see that there might just be a
