Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant

‘I left them at the stable.’ She tried to scramble to her feet and then gave a yelp of pain as her ankle gave way. ‘Ouch!’

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of him.

He frowned sharply. ‘Let me look at that.’

Without waiting for her permission he slid a strong hand down her leg and examined her ankle. She held her breath and stared in fascination at his long, strong fingers as they moved over the bone, pressing and testing her reaction. Finally he straightened. ‘It’s not broken. You must have sprained it when you fell. You’re lucky you didn’t fracture your skull.’

Strands of her blonde hair trailed onto his forearm and she marvelled at the contrast between them. He was so dark and strong and everything about him was so different to her. Hypnotised by his masculinity, her eyes fixed on the dark hairs on his forearms, travelled slowly upwards over the swell of muscle and then lifted to the stubble shadowing his hard jaw. He was breathtakingly gorgeous and so sexy that her imagination took flight.

She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach and her eyes dropped to his firm mouth, wondering, wishing …

He met her rapt expression with a lazy amusement that was totally male. ‘Stop looking at me like that, princess, or I just might do what you want me to do.’

She blushed and sank her teeth into her lower lip. Miles from anywhere, frustrated beyond belief with her life, she felt suddenly bold. ‘I want you to kiss me.’

She stood totally still, shocked by her own impulsive declaration, but his expression didn’t flicker.

‘I know you do.’

His wicked dark eyes slid down to her mouth and suddenly her breathing was choppy. ‘So will you?’ His gaze lifted. ‘No.’

Her fragile bubble of confidence exploded and she stumbled to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ankle. ‘Because you’re scared of my father?’

He threw back his head and laughed. A rich, masculine sound that made her toes curl.

‘What do you think?’ He was still smiling and she swallowed.

‘I don’t think you’re scared of anything.’ She stared down at her feet, mortified by his rejection. ‘So it’s because I’m not pretty enough.’

There was a long, electric silence and then he slid strong fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

‘You’re beautiful, princess, and you know it.’ His voice was soft and he moved his hand and ran his fingers through her blonde hair with the same easy confidence that he applied to everything. ‘So beautiful that it hurts to look at you.’

‘So why won’t you kiss me?’

‘Because I’m too old to sneak around kissing children.’

‘I’m not a child!’

One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘So why were you running away? Grown-ups don’t run away from problems, Katy. They face them. When you’ve got the courage to kiss me in full view of your father, come back and we’ll talk.’

Grown-ups don’t run away from problems.

And here she was, running again …

She stared at Jago, thinking that he hadn’t changed much. He might be a doctor but it certainly hadn’t softened him. He looked tough and uncompromising and totally self-assured. But, then, Jago Rodriguez had always had confidence by the bucketload.

Ironic really, she reflected as she tightened her fists on the sheet. For all her privileged upbringing she’d never managed to achieve much in the way of confidence.

‘I’m still waiting for you to tell me what you were running from.’

There was a tap on the door and the nurse opened it warily.

‘Miss Westerling’s fiancé is here.’

Jago’s eyes lifted to Katy’s.

There was a long, aching silence and then he stood up, his eyes shuttered. ‘Show him in.’

Freddie came striding in, hidden behind a bouquet of flowers the size of Africa. Despite the pain in her head, Katy gave a weak smile. Unlike Jago, Freddie never veered from protocol. He couldn’t possibly visit someone in hospital and not take flowers.

Freddie presented the flowers and leaned over to kiss her awkwardly on the cheek. ‘Katherine! What the devil happened?’

Katy was hopelessly aware of Jago’s dark scrutiny. ‘I—I crashed my car.’

Freddie looked perplexed. ‘None of us even knew you’d left the party.’

‘Nothing changes,’ Jago murmured in an undertone, but only Katy understood the implications of his softly spoken words.

‘Are you the doctor who sorted her out?’ Freddie extended a hand, his cultured drawl the product of an exclusive public school education. ‘Can’t thank you enough. Will she be all right?’

‘She was lucky. The damage was superficial,’ Jago said, his eyes drifting to the dressing on Katy’s forehead. ‘Stitches out in seven days and the scar will be under the hairline. She’ll be modelling again in a few weeks without a mark to show for it.’

Freddie frowned and Katy realised that Jago didn’t even know she was a doctor. Especially not a doctor who was going to be working for him in this department in two weeks’ time.

Or would she?

Could she really take a job alongside the one man who had the ability to dishevel her otherwise ordered life?

She couldn’t believe that fate would do this to her.

On the other hand, working in A and E was what she really wanted, and if she gave up her father would think he’d won and she’d lose the career she loved.

She looked at Jago. For eleven years he’d been haunting her life. In the shadows of everything she did.

Maybe the only way she was going to move on was to face up to the past.

He was just a man after all.

A man who obviously hadn’t loved her. A man who wasn’t capable of loving anyone.

She had more sense than to fall for Jago again. And she was marrying Freddie.

Conservative, British Freddie who respected convention, could trace his family back six hundred years, spoke with the right accent and always tried to do the right thing.

‘How long does she need to stay in?’ Freddie glanced discreetly at his watch and Katy almost laughed. He was so transparent. He obviously had a meeting that he was desperate to get to. It was like her father all over again. Only Freddie was much, much nicer than her father.

‘You don’t need to stay, Freddie,’ she said gently, and Freddie gave an awkward smile.