Rescuing Dr. MacAllister

'I don't know. Believe me, it's very unsettling for me, too. I've never felt this way before. I don't understand it. I think it's very possible that I'm falling in love with you—but you don't need to panic,' she said quickly as she saw the dark frown appear. 'I know you don't feel the same way. You think I'm too young, I talk too much and I'm reckless. And you're probably right. Either way, I'm clearly not your type. And that's fine. It's my problem, not yours.'

'Ellie, trust me, you are not in love with me!' His tone was harsh and she pulled a face.

'I think I might be.'

He made an exasperated sound. 'You are not!'

'Now you're cross, which must mean you're hungry,' she began and he raked a hand through his dark hair and growled with frustration.

'Ellie, you can't come in and cook me dinner!'

'Why ever not?' She stared at him, puzzled, and then her face cleared. 'Oh, you mean because of what I said about possibly being in love with you? You needn't worry. I'm a very practical person. I promise that it won't affect the quality of my cooking.'

He groaned and stared heavenwards. 'Ellie, you're trying my patience—'

'That's because you're starving. Please?' She rustled the bag temptingly and her tone was coaxing. 'It's my specialty. Bolognese sauce with linguine.'

He glowered at her and then gave a sigh. 'What am I going to do with you?'

'Well, I know what I'd like you to do with me—but I don't suppose there's much chance of that,' she added hastily as she saw his eyes darken. 'So how about you just invite me in and let me feed you?'

He breathed in deeply and shook his head. 'It really isn't a good idea.'

'Of course it is! We're both starving and I have the ingredients for a meal in my bag.'

'Ellie...'

She gave a sigh and tilted her head to one side. 'Ben, letting me cook you supper isn't going to change the way I feel. But if it embarrasses you to hear that I think I'm falling in love with you then I promise not to mention it again.'

'Ellie, you are not in love with me!'

She frowned at him, genuinely puzzled. 'I can't understand why it upsets you so much. Millions of women must have fallen for you over the years—surely you're used to it by now?'

He closed his eyes wearily. 'Ellie, it's just a crush.'

'Maybe...' She looked at him doubtfully. 'Let's hope so, shall

we? So, now that we've got that straight, can I come in and start cooking? It takes half an hour and I'm starving.'

There was a long, painful silence and she was just resigning herself to being rejected when he breathed in sharply and straightened up.

'All right. On one condition.'

'Which is?'

'You don't talk me to death, or ask me questions I don't want to answer. And...' he paused for emphasis and his expression was stern '...as long as you give up this crazy notion that you're in love with me.'

'That's more than one condition,' she pointed put 'and obviously I can't change the way I feel, but I can stop talking about it if it makes you uncomfortable.' She followed him through the door, talking over her shoulder.

'Can I put garlic in the sauce or will it frighten the patients?'

He gave a wry smile. 'Put it in. If we manage to frighten away a few patients, we might manage to take lunch breaks.'

She washed her hands and opened the bags but he put out a hand and stopped her.

'It's my turn to cook.'

She stared at him stupidly. 'You?'