A Surgeon for the Single Mom

Was she jealous? He was unreasonably glad.

‘I disagree. Giving me space rather defeats the purpose, wouldn’t you say?’

She looked at him, and there was something too bright, too electric for comfort in her gaze.

‘So we’re really doing this?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Pretending to be a couple?’ Her voice faltered. ‘Not just arriving together but...being together?’

It hadn’t been his original intention. Had it?

‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ he said.

She swallowed, but he could read women well enough to know it wasn’t out of any kind of sense of feeling intimidated. She was fighting this attraction just as he was. She wanted him.

The knowledge shot through to Tak’s very core.

Another group of women appeared without warning. ‘Show-time,’ he muttered, too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Let’s make it a good one. Can you do that?’

She scowled at him, which did nothing at all to lessen her beauty, then tipped her chin upwards. ‘Of course I can,’ she declared. ‘I can play any game just as well as you can.’

He stamped out the voice in his head telling him he wished it wasn’t quite such a game and led her into the crowd.

It turned out that Effie could indeed play any game as well as he could, Tak was forced to acknowledge several hours later. Perhaps even better.

She had charmed everyone to whom he’d introduced her. More like the bold, confident doctor he’d watched in action than the nervous, self-conscious woman who had been standing in that apartment lobby tonight, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

All evening he’d watched her smile and chat and laugh, so skilful that she had befriended the women whilst simultaneously captivating the men. It was a completely different side to her from the professional, even standoffish, air ambulance doctor he had seen a few days ago. Who cared for her patients but who had no time whatsoever for the flirtations of her eager colleagues.

Now she was gracious and sweet, even coquettish, and as far as anyone was concerned very much his. She had leaned into him, her fingertips brushing his arm, her fringe skimming his chin, with that flirty little laugh floating around the two of them had almost bound them, despite the rest of the crowd in the room.

No wonder she had fooled the other guests perfectly, even better than he could have imagined she would. Because at times she had nearly fooled him. He, Tak Basu, had found himself caught up in the moment, caught up in her, scowling at any other man who might get a bit too close, whose hand might linger on Effie’s that fraction too long. As if he was feeling jealous. Possessive. When the entire world knew that wasn’t him.

He should move away. Re-establish a few boundaries. Instead he found himself bending down until his mouth was by her ear, far closer than it had any need to be. ‘There’s still a few minutes on the silent auction,’ he murmured, revelling in the way her skin instantly goosebumped. ‘Shall we take a punt together?’

Obediently she moved with him in one single direction-change. ‘I thought you’d already made your bids? Quite a few of them, if I recall correctly.’

‘I did,’ he returned smoothly. ‘The Grand Master golf experience is for Rafi, the balloon ride for Hetti and the chocolatier master class for Sasha. Plus I always enjoy a race day. But I didn’t bid on anything which might be considered remotely romantic. The Parisian weekend for two, for instance...’

He shouldn’t celebrate the way her eyes dilated, nor the way her nostrils gave a tiny flare. And he certainly shouldn’t exult in the resultant shallow, squally breaths.

‘It’s a fake date,’ she managed.

‘Indeed it is. But no one here knows that. It’s been quite an impressive performance you’ve managed this evening...’ His voice was far softer than he’d intended, and he watched as she struggled to compose herself.

‘I could argue that your performance was even more outstanding.’

‘I make a point of ensuring all my performances are outstanding.’

‘We... I mean, I... That is...you...’ Effie stumbled, a delectable crimson blush staining her cheeks.

This reversion to her more prim side was a welcome step away from her flirtatiousness. Why was it that he couldn’t get enough of the overly demure, innocent side of Effie?

‘I apologise.’ He grinned and let her off the hook. ‘That was uncalled-for. Now, what about that weekend for two?’

She cleared her throat delicately. Once. Twice. ‘Say all of your bids turn out to be the highest?’