Joel was stunned by his own reaction to her plight

Over the years he thought he’d experienced every emotion it was possible to feel for the opposite sex—except love, of course—but he’d never felt this overwhelming need to protect a woman before.

Until now.

But with Lucy looking up at him with those huge green eyes he suddenly understood why his brothers had been so ridiculously protective of her. There was something about her. A gentleness—a vulnerability—that made you want to hunt for a dragon just so you could slay it.

Dear Reader,

Most of us know someone who has had a relationship with a real louse. Recovering from that can be an uphill struggle, especially when there’s a child involved. So how do you move on and let yourself trust someone new?

Well, it certainly helps when the man in question is as sexy and persistent as my hero, Joel. A woman hasn’t said no to him yet, and he isn’t about to start with Lucy! Seeing her struggling to bring up her little boy alone, he even agrees to be her friend, a role that he’s never played before. But of course the chemistry between them is so strong that this is one relationship that is never going to end in just friendship.

This book is for all the women out there who think that they’ll never find someone else.

Stick with it. He’s out there somewhere.

Warmly,

Sarah

The Seduction Challenge
Sarah Morgan

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER ONE

‘PLEASE, Mrs Lambert,’ Lucy coaxed gently, ‘just try it for me?’

‘But I’ve hardly any breath now, dear,’ the old lady wheezed. ‘How can I possibly puff into that? It’ll kill me!’

Lucy held the peak-flow meter and smiled. ‘Just breathe in and then blow out sharply, like this…’ She gave a quick demonstration and changed the mouthpiece. ‘Now you have a go.’

‘But why?’ Mrs Lambert took the device from Lucy and looked at it doubtfully. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘This little machine helps us to measure how well your lungs are.’ Lucy explained patiently, nothing in her manner betraying the fact that this was the fourth time she’d given the same explanation to the old woman.

‘Oh.’ Mrs Lambert looked surprised. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so before?’

Lucy smothered a smile and pulled the top off her pen ready to record the results. ‘Blow when you’re ready, Mrs Lambert.’

Behind her the door opened and she turned to see Richard Whittaker, the senior partner, hovering in the doorway. Grey-haired and kindly, he looked at Mrs Lambert and gave a discreet thumbs-up sign. Lucy smiled and read the result of the peak-flow meter.

‘Well done, Mrs Lambert,’ she said warmly. ‘Twice more now. I need the best of three.’

‘Three? I’ll be in my grave, girl!’ Mrs Lambert looked horrified and turned to Richard with a small smile. ‘She’s a slave-driver, this new nurse of yours.’

‘I know.’ Richard Whittaker folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door, his expression sympathetic. ‘We all suffer, I’m afraid. She bullies us unmercifully. I should just give in, if I were you. That’s what we doctors do.’

Mrs Lambert gave a dramatic sigh and then blew sharply into the meter.

Lucy recorded the results and handed them to Richard with a pleased smile. ‘They’re not bad. Especially considering all the talking you’ve done since you came in here…’ she gave the old lady a teasing wink and Mrs Lambert laughed.

‘You’re a cheeky girl!’

Richard studied the results and then glanced up. ‘She’s right, you know. These results are good, Annie. We’ve been monitoring them regularly now, which helps us make a decision about your treatment. I don’t think we need alter anything at the moment but make sure you keep using the puffers.’

Annie Lambert’s mouth tightened. ‘I really don’t see why I need to. I feel fine.’

‘You have asthma, Mrs Lambert. You feel fine because you’ve been taking your puffers,’ Lucy explained, and the old lady sighed.

‘It’s a load of nonsense. How can I have asthma? I’m seventy years old, for goodness’ sake. Children get asthma, not adults!’

‘Adults get it too, Annie.’ Richard gave her a worried look. ‘We’ve explained it before, but we’ll explain it again if—’

‘No, no—’ Annie Lambert interrupted him with an impatient gesture. ‘You keep going on about puffers and blowing and all sorts of nonsense. I don’t want to listen to it any more. It’s boring.’

Lucy smiled. ‘It is pretty boring, isn’t it? And the good thing about remembering to take your puffers is that they keep you well so that you can then forget about the fact that you have asthma.’

‘I take the one regularly,’ Annie said primly, picking up her handbag and slipping it onto her arm. ‘And then the other one when I’m in a spot of trouble, but I must admit I feel pretty breathless sometimes.’

‘That’s as much your heart condition as your asthma,’ Richard explained gently, handing the chart back to Lucy. ‘We’ve increased the dose of your tablets now, so hopefully that should do the trick.’

‘I hope so,’ Annie said, her smile slightly tired, ‘or there’s no way I’ll be running the marathon next year.’

‘You’ll be the first over the finishing line,’ Lucy teased gently, her eyes twinkling as she helped the old lady into the waiting room. ‘Bye, Mrs Lambert. I’ll see you next month unless you need me before that.’

She walked back to the treatment room, surprised to find Richard still there.

‘She’s doing well, isn’t she?’ She pulled the mouthpiece out of the peak-flow meter and tossed it in the bin, carefully placing the device back on her asthma tray ready for the next time it would be needed.

Richard adjusted his metal-rimmed glasses and nodded. ‘Amazingly so. You’re a miracle-worker. I could never persuade her to blow into “that infernal machine”, as she calls it. Your asthma clinic works a treat.’

Lucy smiled briefly, embarrassed by the praise. ‘It’s only because I have more time than you.’

Richard snorted. ‘No, it’s not! Sometimes I think you’re the busiest person in the place. You’ve got the touch, that’s all,’ he said softly, his eyes suddenly searching as he looked at her. ‘But I didn’t really want to talk about Annie Lambert. I wanted to talk about you. You’ve been with us for a month now. I want to know how you are.’

Lucy gave him a grateful smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quietly, touched that he cared enough to ask.

‘Fine?’ Richard gave a curious smile and walked across the room to stare out of the window. ‘Do you know, I’ve decided over the years that I hate that word?’ he observed. ‘It doesn’t say anything about how a person is really feeling.’

Lucy stared at him, wondering what else to say.

She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. That deep inside she hurt so badly she could barely breathe. That she was lonely and sad and that sometimes her fear of the future was so intense it threatened to choke her.

She’d felt that way for a whole year, ever since—

With a sigh, she pushed the memories away. She’d long since made it a rule not to think about her problems at work, but if the senior partner was asking how she was then maybe she wasn’t doing such a great job at hiding her feelings.

Or maybe something else was the matter…

A flicker of anxiety ran through her insides. ‘Is something wrong?’ She searched her mind for possibilities. ‘I know it’s awkward for you that I have to finish work at three, and—’

‘Lucy, Lucy—’ Richard interrupted her gently, and walked slowly towards her, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? Your contribution to this practice is immeasurable. None of us care about you having to finish work at three. I’m not asking how you are because I have any professional concerns. My interest was completely personal. Elizabeth is worried about you and frankly so am I.’

He ran his eyes over her quickly and his mouth tightened. ‘You look tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?’

She opened her mouth to deny it and then realised the futility of it. The man was a doctor, for goodness’ sake.

‘Sometimes,’ she hedged, ‘but I’m all right, truly. I love it here.’

It was true—she did love it.

Moving to this pretty part of Cornwall was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.

Richard’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know, I could give you something to help with the sleeping.’

‘No.’ She shook her head, horrified at the suggestion. ‘Thank you, but, no. I prefer not to.’

What was the point?

The sadness would still be there when she woke up.

Hoping to change the subject, she picked up a dressing pack and tidied it away in the cupboard. ‘By the way, those new dressing packs we ordered are great. Much less wastage than the old ones. It should save the practice a significant amount of money in the long run.’

‘Lucy, I don’t care about the dressing packs!’ Richard ran both hands through his hair in frustration. ‘Well, I do care, of course,’ he corrected himself quickly, ‘but not at the moment. Stop working and sit down, will you? I can’t talk to you while you’re moving around the room.’

Resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let the subject drop, Lucy did as she was told.

‘How are you finding the flat?’

‘Fantastic,’ she replied immediately. ‘I’ve never lived anywhere so beautiful.’

It was true. After living in a cramped, damp flat in the grey suburbs of London, the spacious, airy flat with views over the harbour was straight out of her fantasies.

Richard adjusted his glasses and peered at her. ‘But you’re not meeting people.’

‘I meet people through my work,’ she pointed out quickly, and he gave a wry smile.

‘That isn’t exactly what I meant.’

She stared down at her hands, wondering why it was that everyone thought that the cure for a broken relationship was a new one. ‘I know what you meant and believe me when I say that meeting men isn’t high on my list of priorities at the moment.’

And she couldn’t imagine that it ever would be.

He nodded slowly. ‘I can understand why you feel that way, but give it time, Lucy, and you’ll feel differently. Sooner or later you need to get out there and build a new life.’

Did she?

How?

She had no experience in starting relationships. She’d known Tim since she was six years old and had always assumed that one day they’d get married. She’d just never imagined that it wouldn’t last for ever.

The whole concept of meeting and dating men—strangers—was completely alien to her.

‘I wish you’d join Elizabeth and me for a meal one day,’ Richard was saying. ‘We’d love to have you.’

Lucy smiled gently. ‘Dr Whittaker, you have been unbelievably kind to me since we met. I was a total stranger to you but you gave me a part-time job when you needed a full-time nurse, and you let me have a flat rent-free—’

‘You’re doing us a favour, living in it during the winter. There are no tourists at this time of year,’ Richard reminded her, ‘so it’s sitting empty.’

Lucy fiddled with the material of her uniform. ‘What I mean is that you’ve been extraordinarily generous. You don’t need to feed me as well.’

He frowned. ‘But you do cook for yourself in the evening?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said quickly, wondering if cereal and toast counted as cooking. It didn’t matter. She owed the Whittakers so much already, she certainly didn’t intend to impose on their kindness any more than she had to.

Richard looked at her regretfully. ‘Well, if you change your mind, you only have to ask. By the way, I wanted to remind you that my younger son is arriving today. I did mention that he would be joining the practice?’

‘Several times.’ Relieved that he’d changed the subject, Lucy hooked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and hid a smile. Richard’s pride in his youngest son was obvious to all. ‘I can’t believe all three of your sons are doctors.’

‘And they’ve all descended on my practice!’ Richard pulled a sorrowful face but Lucy knew that it was just for show. The Whittakers were closer than any family she’d ever met, and even in the brief time that she’d worked for them she’d seen that having a family practice worked well. Michael and Nick, the two sons she’d been working with for the past month, were both skilled doctors and clearly respected each other. There was none of the rivalry and pettiness that was reputed to taint other practices.

‘So when does your youngest son start officially?’

‘As soon as he sets foot inside the door,’ Richard said dryly. ‘We’re rushed off our feet, as you know. He’s arriving just in time for the flu season. Anyway, I’ll introduce you as soon as he arrives because he’ll be doing quite a few of the clinics with you. What are you doing at lunchtime? Are you around?’

Lucy hesitated, not sure whether to confess or not. ‘Actually, I’m going to see Ivy Williams,’ she said finally, honesty prevailing, as always. ‘I’m really worried about her. I saw her last week to dress her leg and she was very quiet. People keep telling me that since Bert died a month ago she’s barely left the house.’

That was the advantage of a small community, she reflected. There was always someone who was going to notice that you were in trouble.

‘Ivy?’ Richard’s face softened but his eyes were concerned. ‘That’s kind of you, but don’t get too involved, Lucy. You can’t solve everyone’s problems.’

‘I know that,’ Lucy said, her green eyes gentle and kind. ‘But she’s lost her partner and she must be so lost and lonely…’

And she knew only too well how that felt.

‘Well, let me know how she is,’ Richard said, walking towards the door and giving her a smile. ‘You’re a kind girl, Lucy, and we’re lucky to have you.’

But nowhere near as lucky as she was to have them.

Lucy watched Richard go and then grabbed her coat and made her way across the car park, noticing with relief that someone had sprinkled grit on the surface. Just as well, she reflected, shivering as the cold air numbed her cheeks and fingers, otherwise all their patients would be slipping and sliding and breaking bones before they reached the surgery.

Even for early January it was bitterly cold, and she blew on her hands to warm them and forced her mind back to her work.

What was she going to do about Ivy? She was truly worried about her, rattling around in that big house on her own.

The problem nagged her brain as she drove carefully along the coast road, and she was still thinking about it when she heard a hideous squeal of tyres followed by a sickening crash.

What…?

Instinctively she pumped her brake pedal, slowing her car gradually as she approached the bend in the road.

There’d been an accident.

She rounded the corner, her heart racing as she braced herself for what she might see.

Her fingers tightened on the wheel and she started to shake as she saw the twisted wreckage of a car embedded in a tree. And then she saw the motorbike.

‘Oh, no…’

Her heart thumping uncontrollably, she pulled her car over onto the grass verge, put on her hazard warning lights and sprinted across to the wreckage. The front of the car was badly mangled, and next to it lay a pile of twisted metal that had once been a motorbike. She was shaking with reaction as she looked frantically for the rider.

Where was he?

She muttered a denial as she finally located his body metres away in the grass. How could he possibly have survived?

Staring in horror at his still body, she felt panic numb her brain and for precious seconds she stood frozen, unable to move a muscle. But then the cold winter air flowed under her coat, bringing her to her senses.

After the sickening noise of the crash the air was still and silent, and it was as if she were the only person in the whole world.

But fortunately she wasn’t.

Sounds of a car approaching cut through the frozen silence and Lucy waved her arms frantically as it appeared round the bend.

The car slowed and then came to a halt and a young couple climbed out, picking their way along the icy road

Seeing the danger immediately, Lucy sprinted towards them, her feet slipping on the frozen tarmac. ‘Reverse your car!’

The man looked at her blankly and the woman just stared in horror at the mangled motorbike, her hand over her mouth.

Lucy gestured towards the road. ‘This is a blind bend,’ she said urgently, ‘And there are obviously patches of black ice. If anyone else comes round here too fast there’ll be another accident. Reverse your car and put the hazard warning lights on so that people will see you and slow down.’

‘Gotcha.’ The young man suddenly seemed to pull himself together and dashed back to do as Lucy had ordered.

Aware that the next priority was to summon help, she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and rammed it into the young woman’s hand.

‘We need to get some help fast. Take a deep breath,’ Lucy ordered firmly, hoping she sounded more in control than she felt. ‘I’m a nurse and I’ll deal with the accident, but I need you to call 999. Can you do that? Give them our location and tell them that there’s a car and a motorbike involved.’

The woman nodded mutely and Lucy gave her shoulder a squeeze.

‘Good. Quickly, then…’

Feeling slightly better, knowing that help would soon be on the way, she ran back towards the car, hoping that she wouldn’t have to hold the fort by herself for long.

One glance into the car showed her that there was just the driver and one passenger.

‘Tell them two in the car,’ she yelled over her shoulder, hoping that the young woman had managed to contact the ambulance service.

Although the doors had been jammed in the crash, she managed to shout through the windows.

‘Get us out! Get us out!’ The woman was clawing frantically at the door and Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the still figure of the motorcyclist, trying to remember what she’d learned about triage. Surely he had to be her priority. The two in the car were conscious. Or was he beyond help? In which case, she needed to rescue the two in the car.

With a whimper of panic she turned back to the couple in the car and gestured to the sun roof, suggesting that they try and open it. Then she turned her attention to the motorcyclist.

She had to assess his injuries. If he was dead, then the couple in the car became the priority, but if he wasn’t…

Oh, please, God, don’t let him be dead.

Her heart thumping, her feet crunched on the frozen grass and she dropped to her knees next to his body, trying to subdue the panic that was bubbling up inside her. It had been years since she’d done any A and E work and even then it had only been when she’d been training. But she knew the principles, she reminded herself firmly. ABC. Airway, breathing, circulation.

The cold from the ground oozed up and numbed her knees, but she didn’t even notice.

‘The ambulance is on its way.’ The young man was back by her side. ‘Here, let me help you take his helmet off.’

‘No!’ Lucy reached out a hand to stop him touching the injured motorcyclist, her voice sharper than she’d intended. ‘You should never remove the helmet unless breathing is compromised. The helmet is supporting his neck and if we take it off…’

She wasn’t qualified to help this man.

She was a practice nurse, for goodness’ sake, not a paramedic.

Airway—she had to check his airway.

She leaned closer and just at that moment the man groaned and muttered something.

Lucy let out a long breath. He was talking. Surely that had to be a good sign?

‘Hello? Can you tell me where it hurts?’

She cringed as she listened to herself. What a stupid question to ask someone who’d been thrown from a bike. It probably hurt everywhere…

‘Leg.’

Leg.

Lucy ran her eyes down his legs and saw the nasty gash in the leathers and the mass of blood gathering there. She wrenched off her gloves and thrust them into her pocket, her fingers shifting the leathers so that she could take a closer look.

Blood spurted into the air.

‘Oh, no!’ She pressed down on the leg hard and turned to the man from the car, noticing that he was looking slightly green. She felt slightly green, too. She’d never seen such a severe laceration. Despite the protection of the leathers, his thigh had been badly torn, presumably because he’d been thrown across the tarmac. ‘You need to go to my car, quickly. Fetch the bag on the back seat.’

‘And don’t pass out on me,’ she muttered under her breath as she watched him go.

The motorcyclist moaned again and tried to move.

‘Try and keep still,’ Lucy said urgently, wishing that she could hold his hand to reassure him. Unfortunately, both her hands were occupied in preventing him from bleeding to death. ‘You’re going to be just fine. I’m a nurse and there’s an ambulance on the way. Everything is going to be fine…’

She said it to reassure herself as much as him, and she reflected briefly on the ridiculous things people said when they were trying to reassure each other.

Everything was far from fine.

‘Here’s your bag.’ The young man was back beside her, looking at her expectantly.

She almost laughed aloud. Did he expect her bag to contain magic powers?

Weighed down by the knowledge that everyone was depending on her, she glanced over her shoulder towards the road, desperately praying that the ambulance would arrive quickly, but there was nothing but an eerie winter silence.

Which meant that the man’s life depended on her and the very inadequate contents of her practice nurse’s bag.

Lucy glanced down at her hands, which were slippery with the man’s blood. There was no way she could let go.

‘Inside the side pockets you’ll find some sterile dressing pads,’ she instructed, noticing that underneath the helmet the injured man was ghostly pale. He was losing a lot of blood and needed some fluids fast.

And she didn’t have any—what else should she do?

Elevate the bleeding part—but what with?

This situation was way beyond her experience. And well beyond a few dressing pads.

Where on earth was the ambulance?

Her heart still thudding, Lucy snatched the pads from the young man and pressed down on the wound again.

‘There should be a bandage in there, too,’ she muttered. She had to stem the bleeding and she really ought to take another look at the two in the car.

‘Do you need help?’

The deep voice came from behind her and she turned her head, blinking at the raw, male power of the man in front of her. Black leathers outlined broad, muscular shoulders and long, powerful legs. Another motorcyclist?

He dragged off his helmet, revealing cropped dark hair and a pair of cool blue eyes that took in the situation in one glance. He dropped to his haunches and his face was close enough for her to see the dark growth shadowing the line of his hard jaw. He obviously hadn’t shaved recently. She frowned at her own thoughts and shook herself. Someone’s life was at risk and she was wondering when this man had last shaved?

Was she going completely mad?

It must be the shock.

‘Did you see it happen?’ His sharp tone brought her quickly back to the present and she shook her head.

‘No. But from the damage to the front of the car I guess it must have hit him.’ She tried to stop her teeth chattering. ‘The roads are very icy.’

Those cool blue eyes flickered to the car, his expression serious. ‘How many in the car?’

‘Two.’

‘Have you checked them?’

‘Briefly.’ Lucy responded without question to the authority in his voice. ‘They were both shouting and yelling so I thought that this man seemed more urgent.’

Dear God, she hoped she’d done the right thing. Her first aid was very rusty. What if the people in the car died because of her?

But this motorcyclist would definitely die if she moved her hands.

She swallowed. ‘This man has got a nasty laceration on his thigh and he’s bleeding from an artery. Oh, God, look…’ She stared helplessly at the pads under her fingers, which were already soaked through with blood. ‘What do we do?’

‘You keep pressing while I elevate the limb…’ The man wedged something under the injured leg and then briefly examined the young man with a skill and confidence that left her in no doubt as to his profession.

‘You’re a doctor,’ she mumbled with relief, and he gave her a brief smile.

‘For my sins.’ His gaze returned to the injured man. ‘This chap needs fluids urgently. How long ago did you call the ambulance?’

Lucy bit her lip. ‘About five minutes? We phoned immediately.’

‘They ought to use the helicopter,’ he muttered, shifting his position slightly. ‘Why don’t you check the couple in the car again?’ He glanced up at the young man, who was still hovering. ‘Can you take over here and press on the wound? That would leave us free to check on the others.’

Lucy opened her mouth to point out that the man had turned pale green at the sight of all the blood, but the doctor was already halfway through demonstrating the first aid for an arterial bleed, his tone brisk and matter-of-fact as he talked. His cool confidence seemed to have a positive effect on the driver and he was soon nodding agreement and preparing to take over from Lucy.

Relieved that someone who clearly knew what he was doing was now in charge, she swapped places with the other man and looked ruefully down at her hands.

‘There’s a water bottle on my bike.’ The blue eyed doctor had noticed her predicament and she smiled at him gratefully.

Seconds later she had cleaned up as best she could and was dealing with the people in the car.

The woman passenger had already dragged herself out through the sun roof and was sitting on the grass verge, blood trickling from a wound in her scalp. Judging that she was obviously not in immediate danger, Lucy turned her attentions to the driver.

After tugging at the door without success, she climbed onto the bonnet and talked to him through the sun roof.

‘Can you tell me where it hurts?’

The man groaned, his face chalk-white. ‘My legs.’

Lucy squinted down into the footwell, but the twisted metal stopped her seeing anything. ‘Can you wiggle your toes? Yes or no?’

‘Yes.’

Well, that was something, but there was still always the risk that he’d damaged his spine.

‘How are we doing here?’ The doctor was suddenly by her side, his gaze calm and appraising as he looked at her. How could he be so cool about the whole situation? Her insides were totally knotted.

‘His legs are trapped, but he’s got feeling,’ she told him, sliding off the bonnet and straightening her clothes quickly. ‘But I’m worried about his neck and I can’t get the door open. The passenger climbed out through the sun roof.’

‘We’ll deal with him first, then,’ the doctor murmured, taking a firm grip of the doorhandle and bracing his broad shoulders. ‘Let’s see what we can do about the door, shall we?’

Planting his foot on the car to give him extra leverage, he gave the door a powerful yank and it groaned open reluctantly. Noting the swell of muscle under his leathers, Lucy wondered how on earth she would have managed if he hadn’t come along. There was no way she could have opened that door.

Having sorted out the door, he squatted down beside the injured man, asked a few questions and then straightened up again.

Lucy looked at him anxiously. ‘Wh—what do you want me to do? Should we get him out?’

‘No way.’ The doctor shook his head decisively. ‘We need to immobilise his spine. We’ll leave him there until the ambulance arrives and we can get our hands on a spinal board.’

Lucy’s gaze skidded towards the car and she lowered her voice. ‘What if the car catches fire?’

His blue eyes gleamed slightly. ‘You’ve been watching too many movies. It does happen, of course, but very rarely, and the car seems OK in this case. We’ll keep an eye on it but I don’t want to move him until we can get some support on that neck. It’s the only part of him that’s really worrying me.’

Lucy wondered what it must be like to have so much self-confidence. He didn’t seem at all daunted by the emergency situation they were facing. He just assessed each problem as it came along and dealt with it.

He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket and glanced at his watch. ‘OK—well, we’ve done just about everything we can with limited equipment. What we need now is an ambulance.’

Looking at the grim set of his mouth, Lucy gave a little shiver and decided that she wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of him. There was no denying that he was staggeringly handsome, but there was something intimidating about the breadth of his muscular shoulders and the ruthless set of his dark jaw.

And then they both heard the clack, clack, clack of an approaching helicopter and he glanced towards her and gave her a wink and a smile that made her insides turn over. He had the sexiest smile she’d ever seen and suddenly the rhythm of her breathing was totally disrupted. When he smiled like that it softened his appearance and he no longer looked rough and aggressively male. Just plain handsome.

Lucy looked away from him, confused by her reaction to him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d noticed that a man was handsome.

Maybe it was a good sign.

Maybe she was slowly starting to recover from everything that had happened.

Strong fingers gripped her arm and held her firmly. ‘Stay well back while they land.’

She did as she was told, responding automatically to the cool authority in his tone. She had no intention of arguing with him. As far as she was concerned there’d been no question as to who’d been in charge from the moment he’d stepped off his motorbike.

Lucy watched in fascination as the helicopter hovered and the pilot landed with breathtaking skill. She’d heard about the air ambulance of course, but this was the first time she’d actually seen it in action.

Two paramedics ran from the helicopter and one of them grinned in surprise when he saw the doctor.

‘Joel? I thought we’d got rid of you, mate!’

‘So did I,’ the doctor replied, his tone dry, ‘but someone up there obviously thought differently. The motorcyclist needs a line in fast, Greg. Let’s get some Hartmann’s into him, and for goodness’ sake make it warm or we’ll kill him off. And grab a Hudson mask because he needs ninety percent oxygen. You’d better warn them to have three units of O-neg ready in A and E because he’s going to need blood. He’s our priority. We need to evacuate him before the occupants of the car.’

The paramedic called Greg nodded. ‘There’s an ambulance on its way—ETA three minutes. They can take the people from the car.’

‘Great. Let’s get to work, then.’

Lucy stood to one side, assuming that if he wanted her help he’d ask for it. He reeled off several other instructions and then strode off to deal with the motorcyclist while the second paramedic hurried up to her.

‘What’s the story with the guy in the car?’

‘It’s his neck, or at least that’s what he—Joel.’ She stumbled over the name. ‘Joel is worried about. He thinks it should be immobilised before he’s moved.’

The paramedic nodded. ‘Let’s do it then. I’ve never known Joel be wrong.’

So the self-confidence was justified.

Lucy glanced in the direction of the doctor, who was now on his knees beside the motorcyclist, squeezing fluid into him from an IV bag. ‘I can’t understand how he can be so cool. I was in a total panic before he turned up.’

The paramedic gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘So at a guess I’d say you’re not a trauma doctor. He is.’

A trauma doctor? Well, that would explain the unshakable self-confidence.

‘So that’s why he wasn’t fazed.’

The paramedic gave a short laugh as he handed her some equipment. ‘Never seen him fazed by anything, to be honest, but some people are just like that, aren’t they? We used to call him Joe Cool. One thing’s for sure. If I was ever in a pile-up and I saw him hovering over me I’d know I was going to be OK. He’s one hell of a clever doctor and a big loss, if you ask me.’

‘Loss?’ Lucy obediently held the equipment he gave her and waited to be given instructions.

‘Yeah. He was working with us until two weeks ago. Then he left for pastures new. Bloody waste. Best trauma doctor I’ve ever seen.’

‘So why did he leave?’

The paramedic shrugged. ‘He wanted a change. Fed up with being in the news, I suppose. Anyway, let’s get this guy out.’

In the news?

Why was the doctor in the news?

Lucy stared at the paramedic, who gave her a friendly grin and went back to the car.

Behind her she heard the helicopter taking off again and realised that the motorcyclist was already on his way to hospital.

Her eyes widened as she realised how quickly they must have worked.

The doctor sprinted back to the car and helped the paramedic stabilise the driver while Lucy checked on his passenger.

A fire engine and an ambulance arrived and suddenly there were people everywhere. In no time at all the man was freed and he and his companion were on their way to hospital.

Suddenly Lucy found herself alone with the blue-eyed doctor.

‘Well, that livened up the lunch-hour,’ he drawled as they watched the ambulance race away, siren blaring.

Lucy gave a rueful smile and pushed a thick strand of dark hair out of her eyes with trembling fingers. Now that it was all over she felt slightly sick.

In fact, she felt dizzy.

The doctor must have noticed because he frowned suddenly. ‘Are you OK? Damn, you’re white as a sheet. Sit down fast—that’s it. Head down.’

He pushed her down onto the grassy bank and guided her head between her knees with a strong hand. She took several deep breaths and waited for the swimmy feeling to pass.

‘Sorry.’ She lifted her head and gave him an embarrassed look. ‘I don’t—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said softly, his hand still lingering on the back of her neck. ‘It’s the shock. You’re all right while it’s happening, and then when the crisis has passed it hits you. It happens to everyone.’

She was willing to bet that it had never happened to him, but she was grateful to him for trying to make her feel better.

She gave him a shaky smile, relieved that he’d forced her to sit down. She didn’t think her legs were capable of holding her.

‘I’m not used to dealing with emergencies by the roadside,’ she confessed, her breath clouding the frozen air. ‘I felt totally helpless. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never panicked so much in my life. I just didn’t know who to deal with first, and my first aid is so—’

‘You did a good job,’ he said, interrupting her gently, his eyes sharply observant as they scanned her pale features.

Shy and uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she dipped her head and her dark hair tumbled forward over her face. ‘Well, I’m a nurse,’ she muttered, and the man threw back his head and laughed. A rich, masculine sound that made her stomach flip over.

‘I suspected that from the glimpse of your uniform under your coat and the inexhaustible supply of sterile dressing pads.’ He chuckled, his eyes dancing. ‘Either that or you’re a stripogram, but I assumed it was a bit early in the day for that.’

Lucy smiled hesitantly, unused to exchanging banter with strange men, but his answering smile was so warm and compelling that she started to relax.

‘I’m really glad that you came along when you did,’ she confessed. ‘It was definitely my lucky day.’

His smile faded and his gaze was suddenly disturbingly intense. ‘I’m starting to think it was my lucky day, too,’ he said softly, and she felt hot colour flood into her cheeks.

Was he flirting with her?

It had been so long since anyone had flirted with her that she didn’t have a clue how to respond, and she scrambled unsteadily to her feet, feeling gauche and ridiculously shy.

‘I’d better go.’

She had to. She had to get away from the way he was looking at her.

He rose to his feet with the easy grace of a jungle predator and strolled with her back to her car, pausing to scoop up his discarded helmet on the way. One sideways glance confirmed just how incredibly good-looking he was and she almost laughed at herself.

Any other woman would have taken advantage of the situation and made witty conversation, but faced with all that raw masculinity all she wanted to do was run a mile.

He paused by the car and his eyes rested on her face. ‘You know, you shouldn’t worry. You did incredibly well back there.’ His voice was deep and cultured. ‘And you didn’t drag off his helmet, which is what most people would have done. What sort of a nurse are you?’

Lucy blushed awkwardly, thinking that his voice matched his looks. ‘Just a practice nurse.’

‘Just?’ His dark brows rose and his mouth tilted slightly at the corners. ‘Must be a pretty lucky practice if those skills you just showed are anything to go by.’

‘I—well, thanks…’ Lucy had never felt so tongue-tied in her life. It had been fine when they’d been working together, but now she was suddenly aware that they were alone and the way he was looking at her unnerved her. Not as a doctor surveying a colleague but as a man looking at a woman. And what a man…

His easy assurance made her feel awkward and out of her depth, and the strength of her reaction to him shocked her.

Tim had been her first and only boyfriend and she couldn’t remember a time when he’d been intimidating. Far from it. In many ways Tim had always been the boy she’d grown up with. Familiar and comfortable.

But there was nothing familiar and comfortable about the man watching her now. Nothing remotely boyish. He was every inch a man, and his arrogant stance and the confident way he surveyed her brought her flesh out in tiny goose-bumps.

Catching the gleam in his wicked, sexy eyes, she knew instinctively that he was aware of the effect he was having on her.

‘I’ll wait here for the police,’ he suggested, tucking his helmet under one arm and trapping her gaze with his. ‘Perhaps you ought to leave me your details if you’re thinking of dashing off.’

Her eyes widened and her heart leapt into her mouth. ‘Why?’

His smile was slow and lazy. ‘So that I can call you up and pester you, of course.’

‘Oh…’ His directness took her breath away and his smile widened.

‘Alternatively, I could give it to the police, who are bound to want a statement.’

Flustered, she lifted a hand and scraped her dark hair out of her eyes. ‘The police…’

For a moment she’d seriously thought he’d been asking her out.

He was laughing at her now, but there was warmth and something else in his gaze.

‘You look about fourteen when you blush.’

She felt about fourteen.

‘So come on, gorgeous,’ he said easily, ‘tell me all. Name, rank and serial number.’

Gorgeous?

No one had ever called her gorgeous before.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

‘Look, it’s easy. Just copy me.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest, his eyes teasing her gently. ‘I’m Joel. I’m thirty-three years old, I’m single and when I grow up I want to be a doctor. I love people and animals and what I most want is world peace. There. How hard was that? Now it’s your turn.’

What should she say?

Hi, I’m Lucy and I used to be married, but I’m not any more because my husband was a total rat and he broke my heart.

Maybe not.

‘Come on, let’s introduce ourselves.’ His tone was persuasive and he stuck out his hand. She stared at it for a moment and then stretched out her own, immediately regretting the impulse as his warm, strong fingers closed over hers. His grip was as confident and powerful as the man himself, and she felt a flutter of panic. She couldn’t tell him her name. Acknowledging that he was exceptionally good-looking was one thing, but handing out names and phone numbers was completely different. It might lead to something she wasn’t ready to handle.

She might not have had much experience with men in her life, but she could see at a glance that he was way out of her league.

Jerking her hand away, she stooped to pick up her bag.

‘I’d better be going. The time of the accident was 12.30. That’s all I know. I didn’t see anything at all. Nothing. So I’d be no use to the police.’ Gabbling in her haste to get away from him, she fumbled in her pocket for her car keys, but his strong fingers closed over her arm, holding her trapped.

‘Slow down.’ His voice was incredibly gentle. ‘Why are you running away from me?’

Her breath was coming in gasps. ‘I’m not running.’

‘Liar.’

‘—I’m going to be late,’ she stammered, finally retrieving the keys and freeing herself from his grasp.

He reached out a hand and took the keys from her, unlocking the car and opening the door so that she could slip inside.

‘So why the big secret?’

She glanced at him warily. ‘Secret?’

A smile touched his mouth. A slow, sexy smile that made her heart stop and her breath catch in her throat.

‘Go on, give me a clue.’ Joel’s voice teased her senses. ‘Just the first letter? E for Esmerelda? L for Lucretia?’

‘L for Lucy.’ The minute she’d said it she could have bitten her tongue off. She’d had no intention of telling him, but the way he was looking at her made her feel—made her feel…

‘Lucy…’ He repeated her name slowly and thoughtfully, not even pretending to disguise his blatant interest in her. He wanted her and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

For one fleeting moment she wondered what it would be like to go out with a man like him and then she dismissed the thought quickly. It would be scary. There would be nothing safe or tame about him. He was one hundred per cent hot-blooded male and she had absolutely no experience of men like him. The strength of attraction between them was so powerful it warmed the freezing air around them.

‘May I have my keys?’ She reached out a hand, her cheeks burning as he held her gaze steadily for several seconds more before slowly handing them over.

‘Look…’ He hesitated, clearly searching for the right words. ‘I can see I’ve made you nervous, and I know that this isn’t exactly a conventional place to meet, but I’d really like to see you again.’

She felt as though someone had squeezed all the breath from her body. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Don’t you believe in love at first sight?’

She looked at him, and her smile was filled with sadness and all the pain of the last twelve months.

‘I don’t believe in love at all,’ she said quietly, turning the key in the ignition and driving away from him before her hormones made her do something she knew she’d regret.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS her.

The nurse from the car accident.

Completely amazed by his good fortune, Joel stopped dead in the doorway of the waiting room. Without the covering of her thick wool coat he was able to get a good look at her, and he ran an appreciative eye over her long legs, her ridiculously slim waist and her incredible curves.

She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

His eyes narrowed and his insides clenched as he watched her face, noting the huge green eyes and the soft pink mouth. She was completely and utterly feminine and every male bone in his body reacted to her.

As he watched, she bent down to retrieve a toy from the floor and he had to stop himself groaning aloud.

She had a bottom straight out of a bad boy’s dreams. A perfect, rounded curve. He’d never been able to understand why women thought thin was attractive. Personally, he hated thin. As far as he was concerned, a woman was meant to have curves. And, boy, did this one have curves…

He remembered her wistful comment about not believing in love and wondered what had happened to make her look so sad and vulnerable. After she’d made that announcement he’d let her go, all his experience with women telling him that it would be a mistake to persist.

But he’d had every intention of seeing her again.

All the way to the surgery he’d been racking his brains for a way of tracking her down, but now here she was, in his father’s waiting room. He couldn’t believe his luck.

He was about to throw a lifetime of commitment phobia to the wind and propose to her on the spot when he heard his name.

‘Dr Whittaker. Dr Whittaker!’

He blinked, shook himself and reluctantly dragged his eyes away from Lucy, focusing instead on the woman smiling up at him.

‘Er—hello, Ros.’ He bent to kiss her cheek, genuinely fond of the woman who had been his father’s receptionist since he was a child. ‘You look gorgeous. Nice jumper.’

He always noticed what women wore. In fact he always noticed women, full stop.

Especially when they looked like Lucy.

‘Go on with you!’ The receptionist blushed and lifted a hand to her hair, visibly flustered by his attention. ‘You’re late, Dr Whittaker. Your father and brothers were expecting you this morning.’

‘Something came up.’ Joel gave her a saucy wink, knowing that she’d think the worst of him, because people always did and it amused him to wind them up.

With a last regretful glance towards the nurse with the curves, who still hadn’t noticed him, he followed Ros through the waiting room, along the corridor that ran past the consulting rooms and up the stairs to the staff sitting room.

‘I saw you on the television, Dr Whittaker.’ Ros grabbed the handrail, slightly out of breath as she negotiated the stairs. ‘In fact, I have to admit I didn’t miss a single episode of Helicopter Doctor. You were fantastic. So cool and calm and wonderfully in charge of every crisis. I could hardly believe I once changed your nappy.’

‘Thanks for that reminder, Ros.’ Joel’s tone was dry but his eyes gleamed with humour. ‘Just as long as you don’t sell any photos of me in the buff to the press…’

Ros laughed. ‘What was it like, trying to work with a camera on you all the time?’

‘Actually, I hardly noticed them,’ Joel said truthfully. ‘I just got on with the job and they hovered in the background. When you’ve got a patient lying in pieces after a road accident you don’t exactly care who’s watching.’

‘But now you’re giving it all up to be a GP. Do you think you’ll miss all the drama?’ Ros paused at the top of the stairs and Joel gave a careless shrug.

‘I don’t think so. Six months with the air ambulance was long enough, really. I’m ready to join the family firm.’

Particularly now he’d seen the nurse that his father had employed.

The job was looking up by the minute.

Ros smiled. ‘It’s your father’s dream, you know. All three of his sons in practice with him.’

‘Yeah, I know. We spoil him.’ Joel gave her a friendly wink and then went ahead of her and pushed open the door of the staffroom.

His father and older brother had practised in an old converted house until four years before, when they’d moved into this purpose-built, architect-designed medical centre built around an impressive glass atrium, which allowed plenty of light into the building. His father, who believed in the importance of pleasant working conditions, had also insisted on a spacious, well-equipped staffroom which had stunning views over the Cornish coastline.

Both his older brothers were in the staffroom now, deep in conversation with their father.

Joel sauntered in and slung his bag down on the floor. ‘I thought GPs were supposed to be having a hard life at the moment. Since when did life get this relaxed? And there was I thinking you were desperate for some help from a decent doctor…’

‘Well, well—it’s the prodigal son.’ Richard rose to his feet, strode across the room and clapped Joel on the back. ‘Better late than never. We expected you earlier. What kept you?’

Joel cleared his throat. ‘Well, actually—’

‘Don’t you mean who kept him? It’s bound to have been a woman. It always is.’ His older brother Michael gave him a wry smile from the comfort of his chair and gestured to the coffee-pot. ‘Are you in need of caffeine?’

Joel nodded. ‘Yes, please, but I’ll have you know I was—’

‘If you’re seriously joining the family firm, you’re going to have to curb your social life.’ His other brother Nick interrupted his attempt at an explanation, his expression mocking. ‘You don’t get special treatment here. You can’t bunk off just because you’re a film star.’

Joel’s eyes gleamed with humour and he rose to the bait. He was well used to responding to his brothers’ banter. He’d had thirty-three years of constant practice. He gave Nick a sympathetic look, designed to drive him mad. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be so jealous.’

‘Me? Jealous of you?’ Nick gave a disgusted snort. ‘Don’t be soft. As if I’d want to spend six months practising medicine with a film crew stuck up my—’

‘Thank you, Nick, this is a family show.’ Michael’s tone was dry as he cut in and handed Joel the coffee. ‘You did a good job, Joel. It was an interesting series. You almost made medicine look exciting and you’ve definitely got the proudest mum in Cornwall.’

‘You’ve also got the biggest mailbag,’ his father commented. ‘You’re certainly not going to be short of adoring women to choose from after all the exposure you’ve had.’

‘As if he ever was. Unfortunately, most of the female sex can’t see further than his pretty face.’ Nick yawned, and Joel leaned broad shoulders against the wall and looked at him innocently.

‘If you like, you can help me answer my mailbag.’

Nick gave him a withering look and then grinned. ‘Any naughty ones?’

‘Dozens.’ Joel’s smile was wicked. ‘You just don’t want to know what some women would like to do with my underwear.’

Nick gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘Please! Spare us the details.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Enough of this idle banter. I’ve got calls to make, so I’ll catch up with you later.’

His father lifted his eyebrow. ‘Are you and Tina joining us for supper at the house?’

Joel brightened at the prospect of a family gathering. ‘Has Mum killed the fatted calf?’

‘Yes, although I can’t think why.’ Nick stood up and gave his brother a wink to take the sting out of his words. He bent down and picked up his jacket and his bag. ‘Yes, we’ll be there, Dad. Tina can’t wait to see Joel. Seems to think that if he’s living here she can calm him down and find him a nice girl who’ll cure him of his wicked ways.’

‘Who says I want to be cured?’ Joel’s eyes gleamed. ‘And I don’t need Tina to find me anyone. The girl of my dreams is standing in your waiting room at this very moment.’

There was a moment’s silence while they all digested this piece of information and then Michael cleared his throat.

‘No way is any girl who features in your dreams, which are undoubtedly pornographic, sitting in our surgery,’ he said mildly, delving into the fridge for something to eat. ‘Oh, for crying out loud—no more milk. Didn’t anyone remember to shop this morning? Whose turn was it?’

Nick looked sheepish. ‘Er—I think maybe mine, but I had an urgent house call…’

Michael picked up the empty carton with a sigh and threw it in the bin. ‘OK, so who’s volunteering to go across the road to the shop?’

There was a sudden chorus of excuses and Joel rolled his eyes.

‘How do you lot manage to stay so undomesticated and not starve? You’re useless!’ He folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head. ‘I’ll go, on condition that you tell me everything I need to know about my dream woman. I’ve already met her once this morning and—’

There was a collective groan and then Michael spoke for all of them.

‘So that’s why you were late! We knew it! It was bound to be a woman.’

Joel tilted his head back and swore under his breath. ‘I hope your listening skills are slightly more advanced than this when you’re with patients.’

His father put a hand on his shoulder and gave his older sons a disapproving frown. ‘We’re listening, Joel.’

‘There was an accident on the coast road,’ Joel explained. ‘A nasty one. I stopped to help, which is why I was late.’

Michael shook his head in total disbelief. ‘What is it with you and accidents? The rest of us seem to go through life only ever seeing boils and rashes, but drama is your middle name. You attract accidents like a magnet.’ He leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. ‘So how did the girl of your dreams fit into this?’

‘She stopped to help. In fact, she was first on the scene.’ Joel’s voice was soft. ‘She’s a nurse. Your nurse. Although I didn’t know that at the time.’

The room fell silent and his brothers exchanged glances.

‘Our nurse?’ His father cleared his throat. ‘You mean Lucy? The woman you’re talking about is our Lucy?’

‘Yes.’ Joel glanced between them, his gaze questioning. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Forget it. She’s not your type,’ Nick said slowly, his expression serious for once. ‘In fact, she’s definitely not your type.’

‘I disagree,’ Joel drawled, a strange gleam in his eye as he looked at his brother. ‘From what I’ve seen, she’s definitely my type. She’s gorgeous.’

‘I didn’t say she wasn’t gorgeous.’ Nick’s mouth tightened. ‘She is gorgeous. But she’s also sweet and gentle and definitely not able to cope with someone like you.’

‘Surely that’s up to her to decide.’

Nick shook his head. ‘Don’t even go there, Joel, don’t even think about it.’

Unfortunately it wasn’t that simple.

He’d thought about little else since he’d seen her bending over the injured motorcyclist, her cheeks pink in the frozen air and her expression troubled.

‘She came here for some peace and quiet and to escape some hassle she was having,’ Michael told him, his face as serious as Nick’s, ‘so she doesn’t need any more from you.’

‘Whoa! Dismount from your charger, will you?’ Joel lifted a hand and looked at them curiously. He’d never seen his brothers quite so protective of anyone before. ‘I don’t want to give her hassle.’

‘No. We know exactly what you want to give her,’ Nick said shortly, walking across the room and pausing with his hand on the door, ‘and you can forget it, buster. You lay one hand on her—just one finger—and I’ll knock you out cold.’

Joel’s eyes gleamed and his fists tightened by his sides. ‘You mean you’ll try.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, grow up!’ Richard Whittaker looked at his sons impatiently. ‘Haven’t the three of you got anything better to do than regress to boyhood? Nick, get on with your calls.’

Nick gave a good-natured smile and waggled his finger at his brother. ‘You have been warned. Anyway, she’s one of Mum’s projects, so you won’t be let near her.’

Nick left the room, leaving Joel to digest his last remark. A real sucker for causes, his mother was always rescuing waifs and strays—animals and people.

‘What’s Mum got to do with Lucy?’

‘She and Dad interviewed her for the job.’ Michael reached for his jacket and ran his hands through his hair. ‘You know Mum. Always a sucker for a sob story, and apparently Lucy’s is worse than most.’

Was it?

Joel leaned his broad shoulders against the wall and looked at his brother thoughtfully.

That would explain a great deal.

Like the sadness in her eyes and the reason she hadn’t wanted to give him her details.

He was experienced enough with women to know when someone was attracted to him, and Lucy had been attracted to him.

But she hadn’t wanted to be.

Suddenly he was intrigued. ‘So what’s her story?’ He asked the question casually but he didn’t feel casual at all. In fact, he felt more serious than he’d felt for a long time.

Maybe ever…

Michael shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Mum refuses to discuss it. All we know is she’s got—’

There was a tap on the door and Ros stuck her head round. ‘I’ve got two urgent calls and Lucy needs someone to see a patient.’

‘Add the calls to my list.’ Michael stood up.

Joel did the same. He glanced at his father. ‘I’ll see Lucy’s patient.’

Richard frowned. ‘Joel…’

‘I’m a GP with this practice,’ Joel pointed out smoothly. ‘I need to start seeing patients some time. It might as well be now.’

Michael shot him a warning glance and Joel smiled.

‘Go out and heal the sick, big brother. I promise to behave myself.’

‘You better had. Nick and I are watching you. I’ll see you later, then.’ Michael followed Ros out of the room and Richard caught Joel by the arm to stop him following.

‘Joel, I need to talk to you. I know Lucy’s pretty, but Nick and Michael are right. She’s not your type.’ His father’s tone was sharp. ‘You’re to leave her alone.’

Joel looked his father in the eye. ‘Where’s she living?’

Father looked at son. ‘Joel!’

Joel clapped a hand to his broad chest and looked innocent. ‘Did I say a word?’

‘You didn’t need to. I’ve known you for thirty-three years and women have always been at the top of your agenda,’ his father said dryly. ‘Especially pretty ones. Come on, Joel, you’re a national heartthrob after that TV series. You’re not short of female company and you never have been. You don’t need Lucy.’

Oh, yes, he did.

Joel lifted his chin. ‘What’s the story, Dad?’

His father sighed. ‘She doesn’t want us to discuss it, so I’m not going to, but let’s just say that there’s no way a girl like her is going to want anything to do with a man like you.’

‘A man like me?’ Joel lifted his eyebrows and glanced down at himself. ‘Two legs, two arms, a good pair of shoulders—what’s wrong with me?’

‘Nothing.’ Richard gave a wry smile as he ran his eyes over his son’s muscular frame. ‘There’s nothing at all wrong with you, as you well know.’

‘So?’

Richard sighed and shook his head. ‘She doesn’t want anyone, Joel. And I warn you now, I won’t have her pestered. The girl’s been through enough.’

What had she been through?

Joel’s voice was quiet. ‘I’m not in the habit of pestering women, Dad.’

‘No, because they usually fall at your feet,’ his father agreed, his tone dry. ‘But Lucy is different. She came here for a quiet life and that is exactly what she’s going to have. She’s out of bounds, Joel, and please remember that or your mother will kill me. And she’ll kill you too, probably.’

Joel wasn’t giving up. ‘It was a man, presumably.’ His expression was grim as he contemplated the possibilities. ‘Did he hit her? Hurt her in some way? Maybe Mike, Nick and I could find the guy—’

His father cut him off with an impatient gesture. ‘Put your fists away, Joel. This isn’t your battle.’ Richard gave a long sigh and rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. ‘We all want to help, but she won’t accept more than we’ve done already. I suspect that what she really needs is friendship. She must be very lonely. Your mother and I keep inviting her round but she always refuses.’

‘I make a good friend,’ Joel said softly, and his father frowned.

‘No, Joel! I don’t want—’

‘Relax, Dad.’ Joel put a hand on his father’s shoulder, a confident smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘You need to learn how to chill out! You’re getting too old for all this stress.’

‘Too old!’ His father choked and spluttered and Joel grinned.

‘Trust me, Dad! I’m not going to hurt Lucy. I promise.’

But he’d like to hurt the person who’d done this to her.

His mind still churning over the possibilities, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the stairs before his father had time to warn him off again. One thing was sure: he was going to get to the bottom of what was behind the sadness.

It was the blue-eyed doctor from the accident.

Lucy stopped breathing and stared as he came down the stairs, long limbed and staggeringly handsome.

Oh, no, no, no, no!

Why hadn’t it occurred to her before?

The Whittakers all had those same blue eyes, and Richard had told her that his son had worked on the air ambulance, so she really should have guessed.

Joel.

Joel Whittaker.

Why did this have to happen? She loved Richard, and Michael and Nick were both friendly and non-threatening. But as for Joel…

She swallowed hard as she stared into those glittering blue eyes.

Joel was one hundred per cent predatory male and there was no way she would be able to work with him if he looked at her the way he had this morning.

The way he was looking at her now.

She hadn’t thought she’d ever be attracted to a man again and the strength of her reaction to him shocked her.

But she didn’t want to feel that way. It just confused her.

‘Hello, again.’ He paused at the bottom of the stairs and gave her a friendly smile that she had to admit was more boyish than predatory. ‘Ros said you needed someone to see a patient?’

She looked at him blankly. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d be starting work straight away.

‘Is there someone you’re worried about?’ he prompted her, and she backed away from him, flustered.

‘Yes, but I just wanted to run an idea past someone. It’s probably stupid, and I know how busy you all are, and—’

‘Lucy.’ He interrupted her gently, his eyes searching. ‘You can run it past me. I’m a doctor, too, remember?’

As if she needed reminding! His impressive performance at the scene of the accident was still uppermost in her mind. If it hadn’t been for him, she dreaded to think what might have happened.

‘Can we go into one of the consulting rooms?’ She glanced over her shoulder towards her treatment room. ‘I don’t really want to talk in the corridor.’

He was instantly professional, his blue eyes keenly interested. He strode ahead of her, pushed open Michael’s door and stood to one side to let her in.

Closing the door behind them, he stayed with his back to the door, watching her carefully. ‘Go on, then—fire away.’

She swallowed. ‘Kawasaki disease. Have you ever come across it?’

He nodded slowly. ‘Once, when I was doing paeds, but it’s pretty rare. Why? Do you think we’ve got a case?’

Lucy looked at him and started to relax. At least he hadn’t laughed or scoffed or tried to tell her that she was overstepping her role.

‘I’m probably completely wrong—tell me some more about it. It’s not in the textbook I keep in the treatment room.’

Joel took a deep breath and paced across the room to the window. ‘Kawasaki disease—otherwise known as mucocutaneous lymph node syndrome—first reported in 1967 in Japan. It’s thought to be related to a viral infection and usually affects children under the age of five.’ He turned to face her, a frown touching his brow. ‘What signs and symptoms does the child have?’

‘She’s had a temperature for the last five days. She saw Michael once at the beginning, but he thought it was viral, and now she’s got a nasty peeling rash on the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet,’ Lucy told him. ‘And her tongue looks like a strawberry. That’s what made me think of it, to be honest. I just remembered the strawberry tongue bit from my training. One of those useless bits of information that stay with you.’

‘Clearly not useless,’ Joel said softly, walking back across the room and opening the door. ‘Michael’s gone out on a call so I’ll take a look at her with you.’

‘They couldn’t get an appointment to see one of the doctors today, so she thought she’d ask me about the rash,’ Lucy said as they walked to the treatment room. ‘I’m probably being ridiculous. It’s probably nothing.’

Joel pushed open the door of the treatment room and Lucy introduced him to Millie Gordon and her mother.

Despite the temperature, which was clearly making her feel ill, Millie’s eyes widened. ‘I thaw you on the television,’ she lisped, and Joel grinned at the little girl and squatted down in front of her so that their eyes were on the same level.

‘You did?’

She nodded her head. ‘My mummy thinkth you’re gorgeouth.’

Millie’s mother turned a deep shade of pink and Joel threw his head back and laughed, clearly not in the slightest bit embarrassed by Millie’s indiscretion.

‘Well, that’s nice to know.’ He was totally confident and relaxed. ‘I need all the fans I can get.’

Lucy glanced between them, confused, and then suddenly remembered what the paramedic had said. ‘You were on television?’

Mrs Gordon looked at her in surprise. ‘You mean you haven’t ever seen Helicopter Doctor? It’s on every Tuesday at seven p.m. It’s the most exciting thing on television! We haven’t missed a single episode in our house. Even my husband enjoys it. Although not,’ she said with a blush, ‘for the same reasons as I do. Dr Whittaker is the nation’s heartthrob,’ she added in an undertone to Lucy.

The nation’s heartthrob?

Was he?

It was easy enough to understand. Those gorgeous blue eyes and that killer smile must have had the female viewing public falling to their knees. Combine it with some heroic roadside rescues and he must seem irresistible.

Seemingly indifferent to his growing national reputation, Joel examined the little girl thoroughly, keeping her entertained with stories of life on the air ambulance as he took a good look at her.

‘She’s had a temperature for five days now and she’s very cranky,’ Mrs Gordon said softly as Joel checked Millie’s mouth and her eyes.

‘Any diarrhoea?’

‘Some, yes.’ Mrs Gordon frowned. ‘What do you think it is?’

Joel straightened and crossed his arms across his broad chest. ‘It could be a number of things,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s no point in me listing them for you, but Sister Bishop here suspected something called Kawasaki disease and I think she’s right. Some people think that it can come on after a viral infection. It may not be that, of course, so it’s important that I send her straight to the paediatricians at the hospital so that they can do some tests.’

‘Tests?’ Mrs Gordon looked shocked. ‘What tests?’

‘Blood tests mostly,’ Joel explained. ‘Do you have transport, Mrs Gordon?’

The woman nodded, clearly distracted with worry. ‘Yes, I’ve got the car, but I don’t—Is it serious?’

Joel put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It can be, but providing we get her into hospital I have every confidence that she’ll be fine. I’ll ring the paediatrician now so that he’ll know to expect you. Sister will help you get Millie to the car while I do a letter.’

Lucy helped Mrs Gordon gather up her things and followed her through to the car park.

‘I just wanted you to check the rash.’ Mrs Gordon settled Millie onto the booster seat and bit her lip. ‘I didn’t think—’

‘It may be nothing,’ Lucy said quietly, ‘but better safe than sorry. We’ll call the hospital to check how she’s doing, and don’t be afraid to call us here if there’s anything we can do.’

Joel strode across the car park and handed Mrs Gordon a letter. ‘Her name is Dr Emma Peterson and she’s expecting you. Park in the main car park and take her straight to Kitten Ward, the paediatric unit.’

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