One Week to Win His Heart

She sighed with resignation. ‘Listen, I’m sor—’

‘No.’ He held up his hand. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to apologise.’

Although his words sounded sincere, the strained silence that followed made Melody realise that things had just changed—again. She shook her head as she pulled to the kerb a block away from the hospital. His smile was forced when he climbed out and started walking. This week had been a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration and as she drove away from him, glancing at him in her rear-vision mirror, she felt a sense of loss.

‘What is wrong with you? You’re behaving like a complete nut case and all because he needed a lift and you didn’t want to be gossiped about.’ She reached her designated parking spot. ‘It’s not as though George is anything special, just a holiday romance, an interlude. Nothing more, yet you’re behaving as though you’re completely smitten with him.’ As she spoke the words out loud to her empty car she gasped. Turning off the engine, she covered her hands with her face and shook her head. ‘No. No, no, no, no, no. You are not.’

She shoved the thoughts away, but they refused to budge. ‘No. You are not in love with him. You are not.’ But even as she denied it to herself, the truth seemed to slap her in the face. She didn’t want to be in love with George Wilmont. ‘Nope. I refuse.’ She dropped her hands, straightened her shoulders and climbed from the car.

After locking it, she headed towards her office on legs that felt all stiff and uncooperative. You’re in love, you’re in love, you’re in love, the rhythm of her steps seemed to state. ‘No, I’m not, no, I’m not, no, I’m not,’ she mumbled softly to herself, but even when she denied it, she knew it was true.

She was in love with George and not in the way she’d been in love before. Oh, no. This was the real thing. With Emir she’d felt secure and safe, yet with George she needed him just as she needed oxygen to breathe. He’d become a part of her. A vital, desperate part and one she couldn’t bear to be without—yet she had to.

Somehow she managed to pull herself together and concentrate on work. She managed to make it in time for ward round and then headed to Theatre. The second part of the hand reconstruction went extremely well and the success of the operation did much to bolster her failing spirits.

She didn’t get time to see George as between an emergency case and a full clinic she was swamped for the rest of the day. That night she dressed carefully in the last outfit she’d bought for her week as host to the visiting orthopaedic surgeon. It was his official farewell dinner and she wanted to look perfect. She was desperate to see that spark of desire in his eyes again, at the same time dreading the thought of seeing that blank, professional look he reserved for people he didn’t know well.

Her dress was two-tone, the bodice made from navy velvet and the skirt from pale blue silk. A wide band of navy velvet circled the base of the skirt and Melody had never felt more pretty in a dress than she did in this one. She was glad she’d saved it for last.

She took time with her hair, piling half of it up and leaving the other half to swirl around her shoulders. There was no need for a necklace as the dress had a high neckline. Finally, pleased with her appearance, she drove to the venue. Once again, she noted she was seated at George’s table and called on every last ounce of determination she had, knowing she would need it to get through the night.

The instant she saw him across the crowded room her stomach began to churn and her knees went weak. She propped her elbow up on the bar for support and as her mouth went dry she reached, with a not-so-steady hand, for her drink. It was true. It was really true. She hadn’t been imagining it after all. She really was in love with George Wilmont.

He spotted her and, just as she’d known, his brown eyes darkened momentarily with repressed desire. He quickly returned his attention to the person talking to him but she could see his impatience in the way he stood, the way he smiled politely and the way his gaze flicked to her another three times in under thirty seconds.

‘Wow, boss,’ Andy remarked from beside her. ‘You look great.’

‘Thank you, Andy,’ she responded, smiling at her registrar as they were called into dinner. ‘As do you.’ He offered her his arm and she took it. She wanted to walk in with George, to talk with him, listen to him, soak up everything about him—but at the same time she wanted to keep as far away from him as possible.

It was just too soon. She’d only realised that morning that she was in love with the man and, quite frankly, she needed some time to adjust. Melody wasn’t sitting next to George this time, which brought more mixed emotions. She wanted to be next to him, feel his body close to hers, breathe in the irresistible scent of him, fight the pull of his hypnotic gaze, and at the same moment she was glad of the reprieve.