thing? I dress in designer wear from head to foot and I don’t manage to look as good as you. Who does your hair? It’s fabulous.’
‘My hair?’ Taken aback by the question, it took Lara a moment to answer. ‘No one. Most of the time I don’t even do it. I mean, I wake up with it looking like this. That’s when my job allows me the luxury of sleep, which isn’t often.’
Ellen gave a wry smile. ‘Your job sounds a lot like mine. Except that I don’t look a fraction as beautiful as you even after eleven undisturbed hours of sleep. Someone must do your colour. Those blonde streaks are gorgeous. So natural.’
‘That’s because they are natural,’ Lara muttered, wondering why she was discussing her hair with a patient. In the circumstances it seemed utterly bizarre. Any moment now they’d be talking about shoes. Bracing herself for a sharp comment from Christian about her lack of professionalism, her eyes slid in his direction and she found him studying her with a curiously intent look in his eyes.
As if it was the first time he’d seen her.
Awareness shimmered between them, as powerful as it was unexpected, and then he turned back to his patient, leaving Lara to cope with a frantically pumping heart and shaky knees.
It would have been hard to guess who, out of the two of them, was more shocked.
She didn’t gaze at married men.
And even if he wasn’t married, she still wouldn’t be interested. She had no interest in a relationship at this point in her life.
Ellen was concentrating her attention on Christian again. ‘So is that it, then? I see a cardiologist now?’
‘That’s right.’ His voice suddenly clipped, Christian picked up her chart and started to move away from the trolley, but she caught his arm.
‘Let me give you my number. If you’re at a loose end over Christmas, you can call me. I hate the festive season.You and I could console each other.’
Give the man a bodyguard, Lara thought wearily as Christian carefully extricated himself from Ellen’s grip.
‘I have your number on the notes in the event that the hospital needs to contact you about something,’ he said smoothly, and Ellen’s laugh was resigned.
‘You’re giving me the brush-off, but I suppose that was inevitable. Are you married? Well, of course you’re married, the truly gorgeous ones always are. Oh, well, my loss, handsome.’
Christian stilled and Lara held her breath, wondering if he was going to finally lose his cool and say something cutting. Or perhaps he’d produce a picture of his stunning wife and Ellen would spend the rest of Christmas feeling nauseated with jealousy. And it would be no more than she deserved for being so pushy. Just because the guy looked like a sex god, it didn’t mean he had to be harassed.
But Christian said nothing. In fact, the only suggestion that he’d even heard the question was the faint flicker of a muscle in his jaw. He lowered his head, scribbled something onto the chart and placed it with the rest of the notes. ‘The cardiologist is on his way down,’ he said evenly, as if he hadn’t just been propositioned by a patient. ‘He’s an excellent doctor and he’ll be more than happy to answer all the questions you have about your condition. Staff Nurse King? Nice job.’ He studied her for a moment longer than was necessary. ‘It’s your half-day, isn’t it? You should have gone home an hour ago.’
How did he know it was her half-day?
Astonished, Lara watched as he strode out of the room with a firm, confident stride.
He was Christian, the consultant. Christian, the doctor.
He never allowed the smallest glimpse of Christian, the man.
Which was probably why she hadn’t bothered looking for flaws.
‘ARE you excited, Daddy? Are you?’
Christian glanced down into the shining eyes of his seven-year-old daughter. Excited? ‘I’m extremely pleased that you’re so happy,’ he drawled softly, and she slid her hand into his.
‘I’m excited. This is the best day of my life. Will it be our turn soon? Will it? We’ve been waiting for ages. Do you think Father Christmas too busy to see us? Are we going to have to come back another time?’ Aggie was wearing a bright pink coat with matching gloves and her whole face was a smile as she chattered non-stop. The sound of a choir singing Christmas carols blared and crackled through loudspeakers and the dull ache in Christian’s head threatened to turn into a ghastly throb.
The morning had been hideously busy, and prising himself away from the department for a few hours had proved even harder than he’d anticipated.
‘He’s not too busy to see you, but there are lots of children waiting.’ He reached out with his free hand and gently stroked her blonde curls while he glanced along the queue, looking to see if he could track down one of the ‘fairies’ employed to occupy the children with small toys and sweets while they were waiting. He glanced at his older daughter, who was gazing into space. ‘You’re quiet, Chloe. Are you all right?’
She sent him a quick smile. ‘I’m fine, Daddy. Thanks.’
He looked at her, trying to work out the immediate problem. And there was a problem, he knew there was. He gritted his teeth. Until he’d had daughters, he’d thought he’d known a lot about women. ‘Is twelve too old to be seeing Father Christmas?’
Was he supposed to know these things?
Colour seeped into her cheeks. ‘It’s fine, Daddy.’
‘She has to see Father Christmas,’ Aggie announced, hopping from one leg to the other, ‘otherwise how is he ever going to know what she wants more than anything in the world?’
Chloe’s eyes slid to her sister. ‘Father Christmas can’t give you everything you want. He isn’t a miracle worker.’
‘Yes, he is. Try asking and see.’
Had he ever been that innocent or that optimistic?
Wondering whether it was age or life that had turned him into a cynic, Christian studied his eldest daughter’s tense profile. She stood quietly in the queue, a far-away look in her eyes. Her cheeks were pale and the skin beneath her eyes was shadowed, as if she wasn’t sleeping well. And she was far too quiet, as she so often was these days.
Tension ripped through him.
Could he have changed things? Could he have done things differently?
‘Have you made a list? I’ve made my list.’Aggie danced on the spot, her hand curled tightly around the piece of paper she’d been clutching since he’d collected her from school. ‘It’s a bit long but I’ve been good this year.’ She peeped cautiously up at her father. ‘Sort of…a lot of the time…’
Christian
