Tempted by Dr. Daisy Read Free

shiver.
    She gulped as he swiped his ID over the sensor and pushed the door open for her.
    â€˜Well, you were, it wasn’t a lie. OK, first things first. I want you to fill me in on everything there is to know about the department and its politics—starting with the locationof the nearest decent coffee.’ His mouth tipped into a wry grin. ‘Breakfast was unexpectedly cancelled.’
    She had a vision of him covered in his ceiling, and grinned back. ‘Indeed. Full English, Mr Walker, or would you rather have something sweet and sinful?’
    His eyes flared slightly, and for a second her breath hitched in her throat. ‘Oh, I think sweet and sinful sounds rather promising, Dr Daisy, don’t you?’ he murmured, and followed her out of the ward while she tried to remember how to breathe.
    â€˜So—the plumber’s coming at seven?’ Ben said as they sat down with huge mugs of coffee and wickedly sticky buns—sweet and sinful, she’d said, and he had to try very, very hard to keep his thoughts on track as he watched her bite into hers. ‘Is that seven today or in three years’ time?’
    â€˜No, today,’ she said with a laugh, taking down her hair and twisting it back up again into a knot. Pity. He preferred it down. It looked soft, silky, and he could almost imagine sifting the long, dark strands through his fingers—
    He stirred his coffee for something safe to do with his hands and dragged his mind back in line again. ‘So how come he’s available this quickly? Usually if a tradesman’s any good, you have to wait weeks. Do you know him?’
    She nodded. ‘Yes. He’s doing it as a favour to me, and he is good. He refitted my bathroom for me.’
    â€˜Ah. Yes. Your lovely bathroom. I’m afraid I left it in a horrendous mess.’
    â€˜Don’t worry, it’s fine, I’ll deal with it later.’
    â€˜So did he charge a fortune, or did your landlord pay?’
    â€˜Landlord? I don’t have a landlord,’ she said ruefully. ‘It’s my house, and he was very reasonable, as plumbers go.’
    â€˜You’re buying it alone?’ he added, fishing, althoughit was none of his business and utterly irrelevant, he told himself firmly. He was not interested.
    She nodded and pulled a face. ‘Although sometimes I wonder how I got myself in this situation. I must be mad. I wanted my own house because I was fed up with unscrupulous landlords but I’m not quite convinced I’m really grown up enough!’
    Oh, he was sure she was. She was certainly grown up enough to satisfy his frankly adolescent fantasies, he thought. She was biting into the sticky bun again and it was giving him heart failure watching her lick her lips.
    And they were colleagues and neighbours? Sheesh, he thought, and was hauling his mind back to work when she spoke again.
    â€˜So how about you?’ she asked, her clear green eyes studying him curiously. ‘I mean, you’re a consultant, so clearly you’re old enough to have a house, but—well, without being rude, what’s a consultant doing buying a rundown little semi in a place like Yoxburgh?’
    Good question—and one he had no intention of answering, but at least it had dragged his mind out of the gutter. ‘What’s wrong with Yoxburgh?’
    She shrugged. ‘Nothing. I love it. It’s got the best of both worlds—good hospital, nice community, the sea, the countryside—it’s a lovely town.’
    â€˜Exactly. So why should I be flawed for wanting to be here?’ he asked, curious himself and trying to divert attention back to her and off his personal life.
    â€˜Oh, no reason. It’s not Yoxburgh, really. It was just—I would have expected you to have a better house. Bigger. More in keeping…’ She trailed to a halt, as if she felt she’d overstepped the mark—which she probably had, but