Fated Attraction. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ her appearance, utterly defeated, on her way back to Jordan and his ‘I told you so’s.

      And instead of that she was sitting in a hospital waiting-room with a man who looked as if he would like to take that ‘Titian’-coloured hair, wind it around her neck, and strangle her with it!

      ‘Raff Quinlan,’ he announced drily. ‘And I have never cared to look into its origins.’

      And he wasn’t about to start now, his tone implied.

      Raff Quinlan. Even his name was different, interesting.

      Her hand dropped back to her side as he made no effort to take it in his much larger one. ‘Am I keeping you from something?’ Her voice was tart at the obvious snub.

      He returned her gaze coldly. ‘Yes.’

      He wasn’t just blunt, he was downright rude!

      She drew in an angry breath. ‘I didn’t choose to be run down by your car …’

      ‘My dear Miss Smith,’ he exploded, grey eyes blazing angrily. ‘I did not run you down with my car. You——’

      ‘The doctor will see you now,’ a young nurse cut in firmly, giving Raff Quinlan a reproving look as she wheeled the chair he had insisted on for Jane when they first arrived through to the examination-room. ‘Would you like to accompany your wife?’ she offered as an afterthought.

      Wife? Jane raised her eyes heavenwards; as if they looked like a married couple!

      Raff Quinlan obviously thought it a ridiculous assumption to have made, too, and was on the point of giving a scathing reply.

      Some devil, probably the same devil that made Jordan call her impossible, made her smile sweetly at Raff Quinlan. ‘I would rather you did come with me, darling,’ she told him lovingly, adopting a forlorn expression designed to make him look guilty as she suddenly looked very sorry for herself. ‘I’m a little nervous,’ she added in a little-girl voice.

      He looked ready to tell her exactly what he thought of this supposed nervousness, but the young nurse looking at him expectantly prevented him from doing that. His mouth set tightly.

      ‘Of course—darling,’ this last was added tightly, his movements controlled as he joined them.

      Jane smiled up at him smugly as they went down the corridor to the examination-room. His expression promised retribution.

      It came quicker than they had both expected, and from an unexpected quarter!

      ‘Would you like to let your husband help you to undress and get up on the couch, Mrs Smith, while I tell the doctor you’re here?’ the nurse suggested briskly, not giving either of them chance to answer her as she swished out of the room.

      Jane had always wondered how silence could possibly be deafening, but the silence that descended over the room once the door had closed, leaving her alone with Raff Quinlan, was definitely of that kind!

      She dared a glance at Raff under her lashes, not fooled for a moment by his innocently concerned expression, knowing that his anger towards her had faded to be replaced by mocking amusement.

      ‘Well, Mrs Smith?’ he finally drawled, his humour somehow making him appear younger. ‘Would you like me to help you take your clothes——?’

      ‘Out!’ she ordered firmly.

      ‘But——’

      ‘Out!’ she repeated with finality, her level gaze brooking no argument.

      ‘If you’re sure …?’ He grinned at her discomfort, taking his time about leaving the room, pausing at the door. ‘I’ll come back after a suitable period,’ he taunted. ‘The nurse already has her doubts about my husbandly concern: if I just disappear she’ll think I don’t give a damn … What was that?’ he prompted at her mumbled remark. ‘Did you say something, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you, my love.’ He raised dark brows as her mutterings continued.

      ‘Everyone in this department will hear me if you don’t leave soon,’ she warned audibly.

      His husky laugh echoed down the corridor, and Jane knew her own teasing had been more than successfully turned back on her. Jordan wasn’t capable of understanding her humour, let alone returning it; to be honest, this bantering made a pleasant change. Not that she was about to let Raff Quinlan know that—he was altogether too arrogant already.

      Actually, she almost instantly regretted his having left the room, quickly discovering that the bruising to her body was so bad now every movement was an agony. Any help easing off the bulky sweater and denims would have been welcome, even Raff Quinlan’s, by the time she had struggled out of her clothes and slipped beneath the sheet on top of the examination-couch, tears wetting her cheeks in painful silence.

      On top of everything else, she felt sick.

      Raff took one look at her when he came into the room, and picked up the kidney-shaped dish that stood on the side-table, reaching her side just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

      She fell back against the pillow once the retching had stopped. ‘I’m sorry,’ she groaned self-consciously.

      ‘Don’t be,’ he dismissed easily, crossing the room as she closed her eyes weakly.

      Jane didn’t blame him for walking out in disgust; she couldn’t bear to see anyone being sick, herself. She must have been more shaken by the fall than she had realised.

      Her eyes opened in surprise as she felt a damp cloth against her forehead and down over the heat of her cheeks. Blue eyes looked straight into grey, so close she could see the long length of Raff Quinlan’s lashes.

      ‘I thought you had gone,’ she told him huskily.

      ‘No, I—God, you look awful!’ He shook his head, frowning darkly.

      She closed her eyes again, smiling faintly. ‘Thanks!’ she grimaced.

      ‘I just hadn’t realised——’

      ‘Mrs Smith?’ A young man with hair almost as red as Jane’s came into the room, followed by the nurse. ‘I’m Dr Young,’ he introduced himself confidently.

      Jane had already guessed that; possibly because of the badge attached to the white coat he wore that bore the name ‘Dr P Young’ upon it!

      ‘I’m not Mrs Smith!’ She was tired of that game now.

      ‘Ah,’ the doctor nodded. ‘Then the two of you aren’t married?’

      Obviously! She was being impossible, and she knew it. If only she didn’t feel so sick.

      ‘No,’ she sighed.

      ‘Well, it doesn’t matter,’ the doctor dismissed briskly. ‘The point is, you want Mr …? He looked enquiringly at Raff.

      ‘Quinlan,’ he instantly supplied.

      ‘Right,’ the younger man said before turning back to smile reassuringly СКАЧАТЬ