A Surgeon for the Single Mom

‘All right.’ He inclined his head as if amused, though they both heard the sharp edge to his words. ‘You knew that by fake dating someone as high-profile as me that word would get around the hospital faster than a superbug.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘No buts.’ He cut her off. ‘Part of my high-profile status is down to my wealth. But you already knew that—so why is it suddenly so distasteful to you?’

‘It isn’t.’

She pursed her lips and he didn’t doubt that she was holding back, biting down the words she desperately wanted to say. He couldn’t have said why that got to him the way that it did.

And then another thought struck him. One which he knew instantly wasn’t true, even though he couldn’t have said how he knew that. But he couldn’t stop himself from voicing it all the same.

‘Or perhaps that was what you wanted me to think?’

She stopped. Blinked at him. Leaving Tak with the oddest sensation that he was skating over the thinnest sliver of sparkling blue ice: ice that could crack at any second, letting him plunge into dark, fatal, sub-zero depths.

‘Say that again?’ Even her voice crackled icily.

‘Is that what you want me to think, Effie? That my money repels you? You must know how many women are attracted to the lifestyle I could offer them. Just as you’ve probably heard how little women like that appeal to me. Did you think you could reel me in if you pretended to abhor the material side of things?’

‘What? No!’ She managed to look angry, insulted and hurt all at once. ‘Is that what you truly believe?’

No. ‘It’s possible.’

‘It’s ludicrous.’ She sniffed, somewhat inelegantly. ‘Do I need to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. Not mine.’

‘Hetti’s.’

‘Pardon?’

‘It was Hetti’s idea,’ he repeated coolly, calmly, though he had no idea how he managed to be either. ‘Maybe you just saw a way to get to my money.’

It wasn’t supposed to be going this way. He wasn’t meant to be this affected by Effie. He felt like the kind of floundering, out-of-his-depth adolescent he’d never actually been. It was ludicrous.

Effie, meanwhile, sucked in a breath, her face pinched and white. Yet, to her credit, she held herself straight and tall. The epitome of dignity.

‘Whilst that may be true, I could also point out that you may be making your own money now, but much of what you have comes from having a famous gynaecologist for a father and the infamous Basu wealth.’

Anger bubbled through him, and even that, too, was welcoming in its own way. He’d learned to contain his emotions from such a young age, trying to keep his sisters and brother in check and getting along, that he found it hard to do anything else as he grew up, bottling things up too often.

What was it about Effie that got under his skin in a way that no one and nothing else had been able to do for so many years?

He opened his mouth to respond, but Effie beat him to it.

‘And, for the record, I didn’t want to do this but you pursued me.’

‘I was under the illusion that you were shy, retiring and aloof—not some kind of siren capable of charming every man she meets,’ he bit out.

Hell’s teeth, what was that? He sounded almost...possessive. Jealous.

He was only grateful that Effie was barrelling on, clearly oblivious.

‘Well, then, may I say that I was equally duped. The man your sister described to me was a focussed genius doctor and a kind and dedicated brother. You, however, are acting like a spoilt brat.’

God, but she was truly stunning. Flame-haired and flame-tongued, her arctic blue gaze as lethal as a pick-axe stabbing shards of ice off a gloriously frozen waterfall.

‘I’m sorry.’

The apology came out of nowhere. Apparently to both of them. But suddenly it actually mattered to him how this evening went.