The Heart Consultant's Lover. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ than that, but somehow the words spilled out. ‘May was a cardiac nurse, years ago, and I used to love listening to her stories about the ward. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to work in the same area. My father didn’t want me to be a cardiologist—he didn’t even want me to be a doctor—but May told me to follow my heart and do what I really wanted to do. She said if he cut off my allowance, as he’d threatened, she’d support me through my training.’

      Jack whistled. ‘I bet that went down well.’

      Miranda nodded. ‘She was the one who advised me to do my training in Glasgow, away from him—not here. And she was right.’

      ‘And you feel that because we lost Imogen you’ve let your great-aunt down?’

      ‘Something like that,’ she admitted.

      ‘Hey.’ He rubbed the pad of his thumb against her cheek. ‘She was a medic, too. She knows you try your hardest but you can’t save everyone. I bet if you talk to her about it, she’ll tell you you’re being ridiculous.’

      ‘I wish she could.’ Miranda swallowed hard. ‘She died two years ago. She—she had unstable angina. She didn’t tell any of us, so we had no idea. One day I had a funny feeling. I couldn’t get hold of her on the phone, so I dropped in on my way home from work. I had a key and that’s when I found her. She’d had a massive MI. And…’ she closed her eyes ‘…it was too late to do anything.’

      He groaned. ‘Oh, hell. I’m sorry. No wonder you’re so upset. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to make things worse.’ He leaned forward and kissed away the single tear from her cheek. ‘Miranda…’

      She wasn’t sure which of them moved first. But the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Really kissing her, his mouth warm and soft and demanding all at the same time. And she was kissing him back, sliding her fingers into his hair and urging him on.

      His hands slipped to her waist and he pulled her onto his lap, still kissing her. It was only when she realised that he’d loosened her hair that she pulled back.

      ‘No. We can’t do this.’

      His pupils had expanded so much his eyes were almost black with desire. His lips were full and slightly swollen, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was a mess. Miranda had a nasty feeling that she looked just as bad. And an even nastier feeling that if she didn’t move off his lap right now, she’d end up initiating another kiss. And another. She wanted him to touch her, stroke her skin all over, soothe away her pain with those clever fingers and that beautiful mouth—

      No. She had to stop this, right now. With an effort she stood up.

      ‘Miranda, I—’ he began.

      ‘I know.’ She put her hands behind her back and clenched them together, to stop herself placing a finger on his lips. Stop herself touching him. ‘It was unprofessional. But understandable. We were both upset about losing our patient, both wanted comfort—and we were both here.’

      ‘Mmm-hmm.’ His mouth was saying he understood. His eyes were saying something entirely different—that he wanted her, and he knew she wanted him, too. It hadn’t been just comfort.

      ‘We’re colleagues. It wouldn’t work out.’

      ‘Mmm-hmm.’ Again, his eyes held a different message. How do we know until we try?

      ‘And I…’ No. She couldn’t pull rank on him—even though she was his boss, she wasn’t going to rub it in that she’d got the job he’d gone for. ‘I’m not looking for a relationship.’ She might be going out to dinner with Jordan Francis next week, but she’d make very clear to him that it was as friends only. ‘My career’s the most important thing in my life.’

      ‘Me, too.’

      ‘Good. Then we’re agreed—this was a one-off and it didn’t mean anything.’

      ‘Yep.’

      She dropped her gaze. ‘I—um, I’d better sort out the paperwork. And I promised Emma I’d see what I could do about Floss. It’s the least I could do for Imogen.’ She gave him a quizzical look. ‘Do you have a dog?’

      ‘No, and it wouldn’t be fair to keep one. Not when I live on my own and work doctors’ hours.’

      ‘How about your family?’

      ‘How about yours?’ he fenced.

      Her mother might, possibly—but her father would definitely refuse. She sighed. ‘All right. I’ll put a notice on the board in the staffroom and see if anyone wants to take her on.’

      ‘Right. I’d better get cracking on a ward round.’

      She couldn’t let him walk out of her office looking like that—not unless she wanted the hospital rumour mill to work overtime! ‘You…um, you’d better do something with your hair first,’ she said, rummaging in her desk drawer and pulling out a comb.

      ‘Leave yours,’ he said softly. ‘It’s a crime to hide hair that beautiful.’

      She flushed, and his body stirred. Hell. They’d just agreed that nothing was going to happen between them. But just looking at her made him want her. Made him remember how her warm, soft mouth had responded to him. How she’d kissed him back.

      He was really going to have to keep a tight rein on himself.

      ‘I’ll see you at the end of the ward round,’ she said. ‘Take Hannah with you.’

      ‘Yes, boss.’

      She was already pulling her hair back in that severe style. Putting her Ms Brisk-and-Efficient front on. The trouble was, now Jack knew what lay beneath it. And he wanted to know a lot, lot more.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘SO HOW are you feeling, Sid?’ Miranda asked.

      ‘Nervous,’ he admitted. ‘The wife’s been looking things up on the internet. Surgery on what I’ve got is really risky, isn’t it?’

      They’d already discussed it before Sid had signed the consent form for the operation, but Miranda had been prepared for last-minute nerves. ‘It’s risky, yes—but nowhere near as risky as leaving it. If it ruptures—which it’s very likely to do, in the next five years—you’ll lose a massive amount of blood and you’ll only have a fifty per cent chance of making it to hospital. If you do make it, you’ll have a fifty per cent chance of coming through the op. That’s a one in four chance of surviving.’ Miranda squeezed his hand. ‘Whereas with surgery you’ve got an eighty-five to ninety per cent chance of surviving. Better than that, in fact, because that’s the average, and Dr Sawyer has plenty of experience. So have I.’

      ‘Bronny says there’s something you can do that doesn’t mean cutting me open.’

      ‘Keyhole surgery? Yes, but it’s still being trialled. There’s also something called an endovascular stent, which is a special wire that supports your artery, but again it’s experimental. I need to get funding СКАЧАТЬ