The Doctor's Engagement

‘Well, he’s the chap I sail with.’ Mark leaned across the table and took an olive. ‘He’s a partner in a practice on the other side of town. I even thought maybe we could make up the occasional foursome to try and bring them together again if it doesn’t seem to be working out.’

Holly thought of the look that Caroline had given her when she’d arrived. ‘I’m not sure she’d relish my company.’

Mark gave a crooked smile. ‘She will once she knows you better.’

‘I hope you’re right.’ Holly gave him an affectionate look. ‘I must say, I’m very proud of you for being so sensitive about her feelings.’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I thought you said I was incapable of sensitivity?’

‘You are normally,’ Holly said honestly. ‘Well, at least when it comes to people who fancy you.’

‘Am I really that bad?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘The truth is, I felt sorry for her—and a bit responsible. I didn’t want to make things worse.’

Holly blinked. ‘Mark Logan, there’s hope for you after all.’

‘Must be old age,’ Mark said with a sigh. He slouched lower in his chair and rested one ankle on top of a powerful thigh. ‘I’m obviously losing my sense of perspective. Here I am, having dragged you all the way down here to pretend to be crazy about me—hell, is it going to work?’

‘Of course it is,’ Holly said firmly, determined to make it work now she understood the situation more clearly. ‘We can easily pretend to be engaged. As you said, we know each other well enough, don’t we?’

His smile was wry. ‘Absolutely. Come on, let’s unpack the rest of your stuff and get changed for supper.’

‘But what about tonight? We haven’t worked out what we’re going to say.’ Holly put a hand on his arm, feeling the solid muscle under her fingers. She’d forgotten how strong Mark was. Suddenly, for the first time in months, she felt safe. ‘If I’m supposed to be engaged to you, we need to decide on a story. Ian didn’t ask me anything personal when I met him on Tuesday, and frankly it’s just as well. I haven’t got a clue what I would have said!’

Mark frowned. ‘No story. We’ll just stick to the truth and that way we can’t go wrong. The only bit we change is that, instead of staying friends, we fell in love.’

Holly swallowed. She still hadn’t got used to the idea. ‘When, er, did we realise that we were in love?’

They wandered back inside and Mark locked the French windows. ‘About a month ago? That fits with what I told Caroline. When I moved down here to work, we realised how much we missed each other and how in love we were. How does that sound?’

‘And we got engaged immediately?’ Holly bit her lip and Mark shrugged his broad shoulders.

‘Of course. Why not? We’d already known each other for ever so there was hardly any need to hang around. All of a sudden we discovered we were madly in love—cue the violins—I proposed, you accepted and that was that.’

‘Where?’

‘Where what?’ Mark grabbed her suitcases from the hall and lugged them up the staircase, the muscles in his arms bunching under the weight.

‘Where did you propose?’

‘Holly, no one is going to ask a question like that,’ he protested, slinging both suitcases into his bedroom. ‘Let’s store your stuff in my room and just use yours for sleeping.’

‘Fine. But, Mark, they will ask.’ Holly flicked open a bulging suitcase and started unpacking. ‘People are interested in that sort of thing. Especially women.’

He sighed. ‘Well, where would you want to be proposed to?’

Holly tipped her head to one side and thought carefully. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone enough to get to the proposal stage. But this was just make-believe, she reminded herself. So what was her dream? She closed her eyes.

‘On a beach,’ she breathed. ‘Just the two of us. Twilight.’

‘Sandy or pebbles?’

Her eyes flew open. ‘What?’

‘The beach,’ he prompted, his dark eyes twinkling. ‘Sandy or pebbles?’

‘Mark, for goodness’ sake!’

‘You wanted detail,’ he pointed out, ‘so sandy or pebbles? Can we make it sandy? I don’t want bruised knees if I’m proposing in traditional style.’

‘Wimp.’ She laughed, her green eyes dancing. ‘All right. Sandy.’

‘But where was this beach? We can’t say it was Cornwall or they’ll all be offended that they weren’t introduced to you before.’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘So perhaps I took you somewhere incredibly romantic to propose. Somewhere close enough for us to have slipped away for a weekend without people getting suspicious. How do you fancy Corsica?’

‘Very much.’ Holly laughed. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ She clapped her hand over her mouth and Mark lifted an eyebrow.

‘Now what?’

‘A ring!’ She stared at him. ‘Caroline asked me about it and I made some feeble excuse. We hadn’t thought of a ring.’

‘I had.’ Mark strode across the bedroom and rummaged in a drawer, retrieving a small black box. ‘Here we are. I hope it fits.’

Holly opened the box and gasped at the stunning diamond that glinted at her. ‘Mark, I can’t wear this! It’s real!’

‘Of course it’s real.’ He gave her a taste of that grin that always had women drooling over him. ‘You don’t think I’d give my fiancée a fake, do you?’

She licked her lips. ‘But...’

His smile faded and he brushed her cheek with his finger.

‘It was my grandmother’s,’ he said quietly. ‘She gave it to me to give to the woman who finally made me give up bachelor status.’

Holly stared at the ring. ‘Mark, what if you meet someone you—you like and you’re pretending to be engaged to me—what will you do?’

‘Let’s just say that, after my experiences with Zoe, I’m avoiding relationships for a while.’

Holly gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sorry that didn’t work out,’ she said gruffly, and Mark gave a careless shrug.

‘I’m not. She was gorgeous to look at but distinctly lacking in other qualities. She definitely had a short shelf life.’

Holly frowned disapprovingly. ‘Mark! That’s an awful thing to say.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ he disagreed calmly. ‘She was no more in love with me than I was in love with her. I never once misled her about my intentions.’

Which, knowing Mark, would have been purely physical. Holly felt her cheeks warm.

‘Glad to hear you’re still a virgin, too,’ she murmured dryly, and he gave her a broad grin that was totally male.

‘You know me, babe—pure as the driven snow.’