The Playboy Doctor

CHAPTER TWO

JOANNA was making herself some toast in the kitchen when she heard the heavy scrunch of ambulance tyres on the gravel. Wondering how on earth Seb had persuaded them to give him a lift back, she ran to the door, still worried about little Katy.

‘How is she?’

‘Fine.’ Without waiting for an invitation, he strolled past her into the spacious hallway, a vision of self-assured, arrogant masculinity. ‘They’re keeping her in overnight for observation and then they’re going to run some tests. She might need to carry adrenaline—that was a serious reaction.’

‘It certainly was.’ Joanna frowned as he hung his jacket on the coatstand in the hallway. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

She’d been desperately hoping that he’d have changed his mind about working as a locum but, judging from the way he was making himself at home, it seemed there was little hope of that.

‘We have things to discuss, Joanna.’

Deciding that there was no time like the present, she took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Dr Macaulay, I’m very grateful that you helped with Katy but it doesn’t change the fact that you and I working together is a ridiculous proposition. I’m sure now that you’ve had time to think about it you’ll agree that it would never work.’

‘It will work,’ he said grimly, ‘because it has to. I promised George Mills that I’d stay and help you until he comes back, and that’s what I intend to do. Katy’s mother sent her thanks to you, by the way.’

Joanna felt a stab of conscience and bit her lip. ‘It’s you she should have been thanking, Dr Macaulay,’ she said stiffly, knowing that it had been his quick thinking and actions that had bought them precious time. If he hadn’t thrust her bodily back into her seat she would have ended up unconscious on the carpet. ‘I apologise for earlier. I felt strange—I don’t know what was the matter with me.’

His gaze was uncomfortably direct. ‘You’re exhausted, Joanna, that’s what’s the matter. How much sleep did you get last night?’

‘Sleep?’ She rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to marshal her exhausted brain. ‘I don’t know. Not much. I was called out a lot.’

‘Called out?’ He frowned sharply. ‘But you’re on your own here. You can’t be covering days and nights. Surely you’re using one of the local co-operatives to cover the night calls?’

‘George still likes us to do our own calls,’ she muttered, her eyes sliding away from his as she braced herself for his reaction.

There was an ominous silence and when Seb finally spoke his voice rang with incredulity. ‘Are you telling me that, as well as running this entire practice single-handed, you’re still doing all your own night calls?’

‘Well, I’ve been trying to.’ For some reason the anger in his voice made her shiver. ‘Since the last locum left it doesn’t seem to be working—’

‘I’m not surprised!’ He gave her a look of total exasperation. ‘No wonder your reaction times are slow. You must be comatose with exhaustion.’

Joanna was silent for a moment. ‘I am tired,’ she admitted finally, meeting that sharp blue gaze and then wishing she hadn’t. There was something about Seb Macaulay that unsettled her. It always had. Even when they’d been students. He made her feel strange inside and she’d never been able to understand why.

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘So why the hell are you being so stubborn? When are you going to acknowledge that you need help?’

‘I have already acknowledged it, Dr Macaulay,’ she said tartly, his tone of voice rousing her from her exhausted state, ‘but you’re not my idea of help. You’re not what I need.’

‘Not what you need?’ He shot her an incredulous look and started to laugh. ‘You, Joanna Weston, have absolutely no idea what you need.’

‘Please, spare me your expertise in female psychology,’ Joanna said shortly. ‘I do know exactly what I need. A solid, sensible doctor who’ll take his responsibilities seriously. You hardly fit that description.’

‘I hardly think I’d want to,’ he drawled lazily, an ironic smile touching the corners of his mouth. ‘And if that’s the sort of doctor you want to work with, I’d say you’re in for a fairly boring summer.’

‘I’m not looking for entertainment,’ she reminded him. ‘I’m looking for a colleague. Someone to share the work.’

‘Ah, yes, work.’ Seb leaned broad shoulders against the wall and surveyed her from under lowered lids. ‘Your favourite companion. Tell me something, Jo, have you ever spent the night with anything more exciting than a textbook? Do you ever let your hair down—either literally or figuratively?’

‘Not everyone approaches life in the same frivolous manner that you do, Dr Macaulay.’ She gritted her teeth, hating the way he narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. It was as if he was trying to see straight into her soul. ‘Work is very important to me, not that I expect someone like you to understand that. And don’t call me Jo.’

‘Oh, loosen up, will you?’ He raked long fingers through his short dark hair, not even trying to hide his irritation with her. ‘Work doesn’t have to mean major self-sacrifice, you know.’

‘Well, it certainly never is where you’re concerned,’ she replied acidly. ‘Your last job was on a cruise ship. Hardly challenging medicine.’

‘Actually, it was extremely challenging.’ Suddenly Seb’s eyes glittered ominously. ‘A great deal more challenging than life as a GP in a community like this one.’

How on earth could pandering to the occupants of a cruise ship ever be considered challenging?

‘Which just goes to prove that this isn’t the sort of practice for a man like you.’

He straightened and moved towards her, his voice suddenly hard. ‘What you know about me as a man—or what you know about any other man, come to that—wouldn’t cover one page of a prescription pad. So don’t prejudge me, Joanna. For the next few weeks, until George decides to come back, I’m your partner. Like it or not.’

A wave of exhaustion swamped her. Suddenly all she wanted was to go to bed and sleep. She didn’t have the energy for any more verbal sparring.

‘All right.’ She took a deep breath, hardly able to believe that she was saying the words. ‘If you’re really prepared to bury yourself in the middle of ‘‘nowhere’’, and you’re really prepared to pull your weight, I suppose I’d be foolish to refuse your offer.’

His smile was wry. ‘Your overwhelming enthusiasm for my company is so flattering.’

Joanna’s mouth tightened at his tone. ‘Life’s too short to play games, Dr Macaulay. I refuse to pretend to be pleased about something I know will never work. You know as well as I do that we’ve never seen eye to eye on anything—’

‘Probably because I’m over six feet and you’re barely five feet five. Maybe you should try standing on a box when we talk—you might be more comfortable.’

She silently and slowly counted to ten. She’d always thought of herself as an incredibly patient person, but clearly she didn’t know herself very well.

‘This is never going to work,’ she said heavily. ‘You just never take life seriously.’

‘Whereas you, on the other hand, take it much too seriously,’ he rejoined, and she bit her lip, knowing that what he’d said was true.

She did take life seriously, but there were reasons for that. Good reasons. Reasons he knew nothing about.

She straightened her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. ‘If you’re seriously planning to work here, you’re going to have to accept the way I am, Dr Macaulay. Just as I’m going to have to accept the way you are.’

‘The way I am?’ He gave an incredulous laugh as he absorbed her words. ‘You mean someone who enjoys life while he can—what’s so wrong with that? Why is it wrong to approach life with optimism and humour?’ He shook his head slightly as if he couldn’t understand her attitude. ‘There are so many awful things happening in the world that we need to grab happiness while we can. That’s what I do, Joanna.’

‘I’d noticed.’ She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. ‘And the chances of you and I working together for longer than a day without killing each other are so remote it’s laughable. Now, if you’ll leave me in peace, I was making myself some toast when you arrived.’

Joanna turned and walked briskly to the kitchen, hoping that he wouldn’t follow her.

He did, and she gritted her teeth as he settled himself comfortably at the scrubbed pine table which dominated the room.

Seb’s gaze followed her as she moved around the kitchen. ‘Is that all you’re eating? Toast? Is there anything else on the menu?’

‘Menu?’ She glared at him. ‘This isn’t a restaurant, Dr Macaulay.’

Not only was the man content to torment her and totally disrupt her working life, he now expected her to feed him gourmet food. She took a deep breath as she removed the toast—now stone cold—from the toaster.

She knew she wasn’t being very welcoming but she couldn’t help it. The man drove her nuts!