Doctor...to Duchess?. Annie O'Neil

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СКАЧАТЬ my pleasure, Peculia’ Julia.”

      Zap! And the man fights back! So he could be playful. Good to know. And a handy reminder to take a quick glance in the medicine-cabinet mirror. It sounded like her clean-up efforts hadn’t been very successful.

      As they repositioned Dr. Carney, Julia’s brow furrowed. What exactly did she know about Oliver? Trauma surgeon. Residency at an inner-city hospital before he’d flown the coop entirely for some serious globetrotting with the Flying Doctors and the Red Cross. Rumored to want to be anywhere but here in St. Bryar. Not what you’d expect from a titled gentleman who would be inheriting a vast estate and a sprawling country pile.

      Then again, none of the tearoom gossip told her what actually made him tick. A man in the army could be a general but that didn’t describe who he really was at heart. She’d have to work her chit-chat magic to see what she could come up with.

      “What brings you back from—Africa, was it, this time?”

      Excellent. Dr. Carney was going to do her investigative work for her.

      “Thought I’d help the old man keep his chess game up to par.” Oliver said it jokingly but Julia could see there was true affection in his words.

      “Good, for you, son.” Dr. Carney patted Oliver’s hand gently. “Mustn’t let us old codgers waste away to nothing without a good round of chess to keep us in check—”

      “Mate,” Oliver finished, and the pair smiled at what was obviously an old ritual. Julia took a few steps back as Oliver sat himself down on the side of Dr. Carney’s bed, holding the sick man’s thin hand in his own. “May I take that as a challenge?”

      “Of course you may, Ollie. But I’d get your date in the diary fairly sharpish.”

      Oliver shot an enquiring look at Julia. It told her he knew what the words meant as well as she did: Dr. Carney didn’t have long to live. The last time they’d made the journey down to the hospital in Manchester, the prognosis had been dire: three months, maximum. That had been a month ago. From the look on Oliver’s face, she already knew it would be difficult news to pass on.

      “You can bet on it, Dr. Carney. It’s time I showed my mentor how much I’ve learned.”

      “And the gauntlet is thrown!”

      Julia felt the sting of tears tease at her nose as the two men continued to spar. Why did she always have to be so sentimental? Then again, it was plain to see the pair were extremely fond of each other. She hated that Dr. Carney was ill and hoped to heaven Oliver saw why being able to offer hospice care to lifelong residents like Dr. Carney was just one of the things she’d like to put in place to help the community.

      The implications of Oliver being here hit her like a speeding truck. This man held their future in his hands. Whatever he decided to do with the estate would directly affect the clinic. They received a small but steady stipend from the duke but he’d made it clear, once Oliver took charge, any funding would be up to him. She was really going to have to kick things into another gear to get the clinic independent of the estate’s money.

      “Right.” Oliver’s voice briskly cut into her thoughts. “Shall we get you X-rayed?”

      “I suppose we’d best.” She laid a hand on Dr. Carney’s shoulder before leaving the room. “Are you sure you’re comfortable? May I get you anything?”

      “No, dear. I’m fine. You’re just what the doctor ordered.”

      Was that a wink he just dropped in Oliver’s direction? Surely not? From the flustered look on Oliver’s face, maybe it had been. Julia gave her patient a quick wave and made a beeline for X-ray.

      Everything was going topsy-turvy!

      When she’d interviewed for the job, the duke and Dr. Carney had told her she could run the place as she saw fit. You’d hardly say that to someone if there was some big plan of Oliver’s she was meant to have been following, right? There had been a lot of proverbial dust gathering in the corners of St. Bryar Clinic seven months ago and, Lord Oliver or not, she was determined to sort the place out and let it shine.

      Oliver was reeling. Seeing his mentor in what was clearly a hospice room had been a genuine shock. Dr. Carney had not only been his inspiration as a teen but he’d been the physician to two generations of Wyatts and untold villagers for as long as Oliver could remember. The kindly doctor had cared for Oliver’s mother through her losing battle with pneumonia and, whilst not a young man himself, he had not seemed ill in the slightest. What was it? Only ten months later and so much had changed. He knew he only had himself to blame. A life overseas had its ramifications and here they were—smack in the face. A virtual stranger was caring for his mentor. It didn’t sit well.

      He watched as Julia’s wheatsheaf ponytail followed her curve-perfect body into the X-ray room at the far end of the clinic. He cleared his throat, beginning to feel uncomfortably aware of the effect this woman had, not just on him, but everyone she came in contact with. It sounded ridiculous but she seemed to bring out everyone’s hidden sparkle. Quite a feat for what he’d always seen as a fusty little village mired in the past.

      Staying detached was going to be harder than he thought. It was how he coped with the sprawling refugee camps; the never-ending queues outside the medical tent; the hunger, the disease, the deaths. Level-headed detachment worked wonders. Time to harness it up again. Cool. Calm. And distinctly collected. Doing the same with Dr. Carney was going to be tough.

      “Right.” He rounded the corner ready to get down to what he knew best—medicine.

      “Are you ready for me, Doc?”

      Was he imagining things or was that a come-hither voice? Surely not? Or was that him hoping …?

      Being tongue-tied was not his usual modus operandi. But tongue-tied he was as he took in the sight of Julia leaning across the X-ray table with her hand laid out ready for the X-ray plate. Her blond hair fell in a damp coil over her shoulder, leading his eyes to travel downward toward her deep scoop-necked top. His gaze shifted as she peered up at him from beneath a swoop of stylish fringe, eyes twinkling. She had him off-balance and it had been some time since he—no, since his body—had responded so instinctively to someone. Not least of all when they’d been, well, breast to chest and slathered in a slick of mud just an hour or so ago.

      “How do you want me?”

      An urge to lift her up onto the X-ray table, slip his hands through her hair and along to the nape of her neck before teasing out some very deep kisses shot through him. Cool and professional, Oliver!

      “Right! Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Oliver trained his eyes on Julia’s hand. If he let them travel up her slender arm, farther up along the curve of her shoulder, which was just slipping out of the dark cotton fabric, exposing …

       Stop it!

      “What was that?” Julia looked up at him, a little smile playing on her lips.

      “Sorry, what? I didn’t say anything.”

      Did I? Going mad at the ripe age of thirty-five. Nice one. “Can I just get you to lift your hand for a moment? I’m going to slip a plate under …” His eyes zig-zagged round the tiny room.

      “In СКАЧАТЬ