Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal. Louisa George

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СКАЧАТЬ Painful. Harmful.

      So, so stupid.

      But if they couldn’t sort it out amicably it would go down on their employment records—and who knew what else, a warning? No way. She wasn’t going to let this ruin her, so yes, they needed to sort it out once and for all. But that meant she was going to be stuck with him in the famous city of love with harsh memories and increasing desires and a whole lot of tension, trying to sort out a situation that was far from normal.

      ‘That is, if you don’t kill each other first. Now, I’m running late for another meeting, so if you’ll excuse me.’ Jacob’s word was final. ‘Play nicely, children. I’ll see you when you get back.’

CHAPTER THREE

      ‘WHO THE HELL has a symposium just before Christmas?’ Sean lugged his duffle bag onto the train, threw it onto the overhead rack and sat down opposite Isabel.

      Angry as he was with the whole situation, he couldn’t help but note that she looked as pulled together as any self-respecting Delamere girl would be. A dark furtrimmed hat sat on her head, her straight golden hair flowing over her shoulders. A smattering of mascara made her green eyes look huge and innocent, and her cheeks had pinked up from the bitter north-easterly that had whipped around them as they stood on the Eurostar platform. A red coat covered her from neck to knee. At her throat was a chain of what looked like diamonds. They weren’t fake. He knew her well enough to be sure of that. She looked like an Eastern European princess rather than a doctor.

      And, despite himself and the rage still swirling round his gut, he felt a pull to wrap her in his arms and warm her up. Damn it.

      She barely took her eyes away from the glossy magazine she was reading. ‘It was originally planned for September, but had to be postponed because of a norovirus outbreak at the hotel the day before it was due to start. That’s smack in the middle of conference season so all the other appropriately sized venues were already full. This was the only time they could rebook it. So we’re stuck with it.’ Now she lifted her head and glared at him. ‘Like I’m stuck with you. But I won’t let that spoil my time in Paris.’

      She was angry with him? ‘Whoa. Wait a minute. Let’s backtrack a little … you’re pissed with me because of what exactly? Because I don’t remember me keeping any secrets from you for the last seventeen years.’ The train was beginning to fill. People were taking seats further down the carriage, squealing about Christmas shopping, so yes, he knew this wasn’t the time or the place.

      But she answered him anyway, her voice quiet but firm. ‘Sean, I apologised for that and I cannot do anything about it. You want to keep going over and over it, feel free but it won’t change a thing.’

      Her eyes clashed with his in a haughty, assertive glare. She was not going to move on this, he could see. But he could see more than that too. He could see how tired she was. How much she was hurting. How the proud stance was a show. And he felt like a jerk. She’d been through a traumatic time and had achieved so much despite it.

      And how she had him feeling bad about this whole scenario he couldn’t fathom.

      Dragging a book from his backpack, he settled down. It would get easier, he asserted to himself, being with her. He’d get over the swing of emotions from anger to lust. He’d get bored of looking at her. Surely? He would stop being entranced by that gentle neckline, the dip at her throat where the diamonds graced the collarbone. He’d get tired of the scent … expensive perfume, he guessed, but it was intoxicating nonetheless, sort of exotic and flowers and something else. Her …

      Now, where was he …? Ah, yes … neonatal emergencies … distraction therapy.

      As the train jerked to depart she closed her magazine and gazed out of the window. Luckily the seats beside them were free; they had the four-berth area to themselves. ‘I’ve never been to Paris before.’

      For a minute he thought she was talking to herself, then he realised it was actually an attempt at a civil conversation. Fine, they were in a public place. He could do civil just to get through the two-and-a-half-hour journey. But that would be as far as it went. ‘It’s a great place. I went a few years ago, when I did my gap year. I travelled around Europe for a bit.’

      An eyebrow rose. ‘I didn’t know you did a gap year?’

      ‘There are lots of things you don’t know about me, Isabel. There are years and years of my life you know nothing about, and you’ve spent the last couple of months that I’ve been here running in the opposite direction whenever I’m around too. Hardly surprising you know nothing at all.’

      ‘I know.’ Tugging off her coat and hat, she plumped up her hair and looked at him. ‘I’m sorry. After what I told you yesterday you’ll understand that I just couldn’t deal with you being back in my life again.’

      Guilt could do that to you, he mused. ‘And now?’

      She shrugged a delicate shoulder. ‘Now I don’t have a choice. Thanks to Jacob.’

      ‘Indeed. So let’s make a deal, shall we?’

      ‘Depends what it is?’

      ‘We’ll attend this conference as a team to represent the department. But after that, in our downtime, you don’t get in my way and I won’t get in yours.’ That should do it. No cosy dinners, no shared intimacies. He could revisit some old haunts, discover new ones. On his own. He stuck out a hand.

      ‘Fine by me.’ She took it, her eyes widening at the shot of something that zipped between them as their palms touched. Heat burnt her cheeks as, with equal force, it seared through him, wild and unbidden, shocking in its intensity. For a moment she locked eyes again with him; this time he saw fire there. Then she let go and wiped her palm down her trousers as if trying to erase any trace of him from her skin. ‘So, what are you going to do? In Paris? Do you have plans?’

      ‘Oh, we’re doing polite chit-chat? The ever-so-charming Delamere dialogue?’

      All heat extinguished in a second, her glare intensified. ‘Gosh, you really do hate me and my family, don’t you?’

      ‘Isla’s sweet.’ He let the insult by omission sit with her for a moment. What was that line between love and hate? He knew he was straddling something of equal measure. He wanted her, and he didn’t want her. Too much either way, it was disturbing. ‘I was actually referring to the way you smooth over any difficult social encounter. How easy it is for you to glide seamlessly from one meaningless subject to the next.’

      ‘Then you don’t know me at all either, Sean. You think you do, but whatever misapprehensions you have about me, they’re wrong. I’m not like my mum and dad. I never was. I used to hate being paraded in front of the cameras and the elite with a begging bowl for whichever charity they favoured that month. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the causes they were fighting for, but I always felt awkward and embarrassed to be there.’

      He kept his face passive. ‘I thought I knew you. I always believed you were polar opposites to your parents.’ And even though he’d consoled himself over the years that she had just resorted to Delamere type and turned her back on him, here she was challenging him. Because he’d seen her in action, the compassion and the dedication. Truth was, he didn’t know her at all now, not really. He knew what she’d once been, but the young, СКАЧАТЬ