Tempted by Dr Daisy

‘Yes, you should. Thank you for taking me out. You really didn’t need to, but it was lovely. I really enjoyed it.’

‘So did I. I’d like to do it again, but I’m not sure if that’s wise. We work together, we live next door. It could get messy.’

She nodded, struggling against an inexplicable urge to cry. ‘Yeah. Lousy idea.’ And he was divorced. She didn’t do that. Didn’t do anything. Not any more.

He took a step towards the door, then turned back, his eyes lingering on her face. ‘Thank you for everything today. You’ve been amazing.’

She tried to smile. ‘Any time.’

He lifted a hand and his knuckles grazed her cheek tenderly. ‘Goodnight, Daisy. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She nodded. She couldn’t speak, because for some ridiculous reason she was on the verge of tears, and as if he knew that, he gave a sad, fleeting little smile and let himself out.

CHAPTER THREE

WORKWISE, Tuesday was a day like any other.

On a personal level, Daisy thought she was going to go out of her mind. She’d hardly slept, and by the time she arrived on the ward, she’d convinced herself that working with Ben was going to be impossible.

In fact, it was easy.

He greeted her with a smile, and if it hadn’t been for the lingering heat in his eyes, she wouldn’t have known anything had happened between them. It was just business as usual.

No cosy coffees today, just the normal routine of a busy surgical list, including an elective Caesarean on a woman with an old spinal injury who had to have a general anaesthetic rather than an epidural. It was a good chance for him to see what she could do, and he could talk her through it without worrying the patient or her partner.

Although, in fact, he hardly said anything, just nodded reassurance and made the odd suggestion, and then stripped off his gloves and walked out. ‘You’re doing fine. You close, I’m going to get a coffee. Bit of a late night.’

Evil man. Thank God for a mask she could hide her smile behind, and the scrub nurse and anaesthetist deep in conversation about another colleague.

She finished, stripped off her gloves and went out to the staffroom, to find him pouring another coffee and holding it out to her as she approached.

‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Good hands. You remind me of my father.’

‘Is that a good thing?’ she asked, not sure she was flattered.

‘It is if you’re a good vet.’

‘Like James Herriot? All stone barns and stroppy farmers?’

He chuckled. ‘Things have moved on since the forties. You’ve got the makings of an excellent surgeon, though.’

‘Just don’t get me delivering calves.’

The silly banter was just what she needed to take her mind off what had happened last night—or not happened. Except of course the tension between them was still there, the incredible sexual chemistry striking sparks off her every time she was within twenty feet of him. And of all the people for it to happen with—

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ he murmured softly, as if he realised, and then the anaesthetist stuck his head round the door and gave them the thumbs up.

‘She’s round, she’s fine. Ready for the next?’

He got to his feet and went to scrub, and when she’d drained her coffee she joined him and the awkward, sensitive moment was gone.

For now.

Ben closed the front door behind him, rolled his neck and cradled it in his palm, massaging the tight muscles.

He’d been operating most of the day, and on top of lugging boxes all weekend, it was getting to him. Not forgetting lying awake thinking about Daisy all night.

He groaned and shut his eyes. He really, really didn’t need to think about that. It had been difficult enough having to work alongside her all day without coming home and fantasising about her all evening as well.

He put the kettle on, rang the plumber back about the electrician and the plasterer, and made himself a cup of tea. He’d just dropped into a chair in his sitting room to drink it when his mobile rang.

‘So how’s the new house?’

He gave a slightly strangled laugh and looked around at the hideous 1970s wallpaper and the dangling paper on the ceiling. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the trashed kitchen. ‘Let’s just say it’s got potential.’

‘Oops.’

‘Yeah. The bath waste wasn’t properly connected.’

‘And?’

‘I don’t have a kitchen ceiling now.’

‘OK …’ His brother was stifling a laugh, he could tell, and he could feel his own lips twitch.

‘You ought to come up and see it.’

Matt didn’t bother to stifle the laugh then. ‘You have to be kidding. You’ll have me stripping wallpaper and pulling out kitchen units before I’ve taken my coat off,’ he said drily, and then added, ‘So, how’s the job? Any good?’

‘Yes, very good. The SpR’s a bit of an old woman, but the registrar’s excellent. Good team.’

‘And your neighbours? Met them yet?’

‘Ah—yes. Actually, the registrar’s my neighbour. She’s in the other half.’

‘Is she, now?’

Ben closed his eyes and leant back. ‘Yes, she is. And she was very helpful about the leak. I took her out for dinner to say thank you,’ he added rashly, and he heard Matt’s curiosity crank up a notch.

‘And?’

‘And nothing.’

Matt was laughing. ‘Oh, come on, bro, I know you better than that. I thought you were sounding pretty chipper. So let’s have it. What’s her name?’

‘Daisy.’

‘Daisy! What kind of a name is that?’