The Playboy Doctor. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ he? Trying to hide her total lack of interest, Joanna stared at the stranger and wondered why she never felt the things other women seemed to feel when she looked at men. Was he gorgeous? He was too far away for her to be able to see his features clearly, but even distance couldn’t conceal his powerful physique and the slightly arrogant tilt of his dark head as he stared at the sunlit moor. Then he turned, and in one smooth movement he reached into the car and retrieved a black leather jacket. Locking the car with a casual flick of his wrist, he slung the jacket over his shoulders and strolled across the car park towards the surgery.

      ‘Pinch me.’ Laura sighed, her expression dreamy. ‘Pinch me quickly. No one looks like that in real life. At least, not on Dartmoor.’

      Totally unaffected by what she’d seen, Joanna turned back to her computer, itching to get on with her work. ‘You shouldn’t talk that way about a patient, Laura.’

      Laura looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown horns. ‘A patient? He can’t possibly be a patient. You can tell that man has never had a day’s ill health in his life just by looking at him.’ She glanced out of the window again and gave an audible gasp. ‘Oh, Dr Weston, look at him close up! He looks like a film star. I’d better go and see what he wants. He’s probably just lost and needs directions.’ She straightened and hurried towards the door, pausing to throw a saucy wink in Joanna’s direction. ‘I may be some time. If he needs to know the way to paradise, I’ll have to show him personally.’

      Joanna shook her head with a smile as the receptionist left, relieved to be allowed to get on with her work. She was too busy to waste time gazing at strange men, even if they were supposedly handsome. Anyway, handsome men were bad news.

      She was totally immersed in a stack of results when there was a tap on the door and Laura entered again with a flourish, her cheeks slightly pink.

      ‘Dr Weston, there’s someone to see you.’ Excitement mingled with admiration in her voice. ‘A Dr Macaulay.’

       Macaulay?

      She looked up and blinked twice, just to make sure she was seeing straight.

      Dr Macaulay. Sebastian Macaulay.

      Here.

      In her surgery. Lounging with careless arrogance against the doorway as if he owned the place. Which was entirely possible, she thought with a touch of irony. If memory served her right, the Macaulay family owned half of Britain. Which explained the flashy car in the car park, of course.

      The question was, what was he doing here? The last thing she’d heard, he’d been spending his time jetting between Caribbean islands and other exotic locations. She couldn’t imagine for a moment that rural Devon was on his list of desirable places to visit.

      As their eyes met she saw recognition flicker in those blue depths and she braced herself for his reaction.

      ‘Well, well, it’s Joanna Weston...’ His voice was a soft, cultured drawl and Joanna glanced quickly at Laura, her face expressionless.

      ‘Thank you, Laura. I’ll call you if I need you.’

      Whatever derogatory comment Sebastian Macaulay was about to make about her, she didn’t want him doing it in front of Laura.

      Laura hovered, clearly wanting to stay around. ‘Shall I get you some—?’

      ‘I’ll call you,’ Joanna snapped, and Laura gave her a puzzled look, clearly taken aback that her normally mild-mannered, kind boss was behaving so uncharacteristically.

      Joanna sighed, feeling instantly guilty. It wasn’t Laura’s fault. ‘Thank you, Laura. If we need you, we’ll buzz.’

      Laura stared at her for a moment before turning and leaving the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

       Sebastian Macaulay...

      For a moment Joanna just stared at him and then she pulled herself together.

      ‘Well, this is a surprise.’

      ‘It is indeed.’ His blue eyes sparked with wry humour. ‘Although I suppose I should have guessed that it would be you. When I was told that this place was being run single-handed by a female GP, I was intrigued as to what sort of woman would want to bury themselves in the middle of nowhere.’

      Nowhere? Joanna felt herself bristle. He thought this was nowhere? Well, someone like him probably would of course. She counted to ten and forced herself to be civil. She was not going to let the man wind her up.

      She lifted her chin and gave him a cool look. ‘I’m not buried, Dr Macaulay, and I choose to live and work here because the people are lovely and the countryside and the beaches are wonderful. Although this might surprise you, I consider this village to be somewhere, rather than nowhere. But I can understand how someone of your...’ she paused for emphasis ‘...sophisticated tastes might consider this to be nowhere. Which leads us to the question of what you could possibly be doing in this area.’

      Instead of answering immediately, he strolled round her consulting room, pausing to examine pictures, posters and photographs.

      Personal photographs!

      She felt a flash of anger and forced herself to calm down and analyse her feelings.

      What on earth was the matter with her? How could someone she hadn’t seen for at least six years provoke such hostility in her? She was confused and puzzled by her own reaction. She didn’t normally respond that way to people. Normally she was placid and gentle, a real peacemaker. But Sebastian Macaulay had always brought out aspects of her character that she had trouble identifying. Just being in the same room as him made her insides boil and churn.

      It was just because they were so different, she reasoned. Not just in terms of background—although that too, of course, because she knew for a fact that Seb Macaulay was wealthier than even Laura was probably imagining—but in terms of personality and attitude. How could she ever expect herself to have anything in common with a man who approached life as a game to be played and enjoyed, a man who shunned commitment and responsibility in favour of short-term pleasure?

      No, she assured herself, her hostility towards him came from the simple fact that she disliked the man. She disliked the flippant way he approached life, the way people fell at his feet, his flashy lifestyle...

      She bit her lip, forcing herself to face the truth. What she disliked most of all was the fact that he reminded her of—

      Instantly she closed her eyes and pushed the thought away. She wasn’t going to drag the past up now. Not twice in one day. First with Alice and now with Seb Macaulay. For years she’d managed to keep those hurtful, uncomfortable feelings totally buried. She was happy and she didn’t want anyone or anything disturbing that.

      Anyway was the man ever going to tell her what he was doing here? ‘I’m very busy, Dr Macaulay.’

      ‘So I hear.’ There was a pause as he leaned closer to study a favourite of hers, a painting of the moor on a wild, winter day, and Joanna curled her fingers into her palms.

      ‘Look.’ She cleared her throat and kept her tone businesslike. ‘Why don’t you just tell me what I can do for you?’

      He СКАЧАТЬ