‘Go to work, Doctor,’ Xavier said, giving her a light nudge of encouragement.
A wave of emotion swept over Sophie, seeing so many people waiting for them in the hot sun. The fact they would be working together side by side for the first time was secondary, and she was determined to stay focused. With a quick smile she took the keys from Xavier and hurried ahead to unlock the door of the clinic.
For the next couple of hours they didn’t have time to exchange a single word. They were sharing a surgery with a small treatment room off it, and in a rare gap between patients Sophie wiped her forehead on her sleeve and glanced across. During the course of the morning she had the chance to discover that all Xavier’s better qualities were intact, at least as far as his patients were concerned. Nothing was too much trouble for him. Noticing he had run short of supplies, she left her post briefly to go and stock up for him.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ Xavier murmured when she returned, concentrating on the small wound he was dressing on a young girl’s arm.
‘I wanted to.’
Still concentrating on his work, his lips pulled down in a wry show of surprise. ‘Well, thank you.’
In spite of all her self-administered warnings, the grin he slanted at her sent Sophie’s pulse rate soaring.
‘I’ll get that,’ he offered as the telephone rang in the reception area when she had just sat down.
‘Oh, OK,’ Sophie agreed. Sharing the workload with Xavier was running like clockwork. They were perfect partners—at work at least, she realised wryly, turning to meet her next patient.
It wasn’t until much later in the day, after they had seen their last patient, that Sophie had the opportunity to meet some more members of the medical team when they arrived back from their visits to the outlying areas. After freshening up, they assembled in the dining area with drinks and snacks to relax. She found them all friendly and welcoming—with one exception, a striking-looking woman a little older than herself.
‘This is Dr Anna Groes from Denmark,’ Xavier said casually, introducing Sophie to the statuesque blonde.
She would have had to be numb from the neck up not to feel the bolt of electricity that shot from Anna Groes to Xavier—singeing her on the way, Sophie thought, trying to tell herself she was imagining it. But Xavier walked away before she could make any more of it. He had been tense ever since the telephone call earlier, Sophie remembered, admiring the broad sweep of his shoulders as he crossed the room.
‘Dr Ford—’
Sophie turned back to Anna Groes. It was like shaking hands with a cheese slice. The Danish doctor’s hand was cold, smooth, and limp, her stare penetrating and as cold as her hand. It left Sophie feeling as if she was being systematically dissected, analysed and judged.
‘You should take some time off, Xavier,’ the Danish doctor said in a provocative drawl when he came back to them.
Sophie felt her hackles rising—a feeling that only increased when Anna Groes dismissed her with one careless blink of her sooty-black lashes. ‘You know what they say in your country about all work and no play—’
‘But no one could ever accuse Xavier of being dull,’ Sophie cut in.
‘I see the new recruit has got the measure of you already, Xavier.’ The woman’s tone managed to imply that Sophie was junior in rank to her and therefore of no consequence.
‘Sophie and I know each other from way back,’ Xavier explained, keeping his voice neutral.
‘Ah, I see—’
‘No you don’t, Anna. You don’t see at all,’ Xavier warned, killing the conversation stone dead. ‘Come on, Sophie, let’s get out of here.’
‘Why, I—’
‘Now,’ he said icily.
Xavier’s black mood had obviously been precipitated by the encounter with Anna Groes, Sophie thought, when he slammed the clinic door behind them and stalked off ahead of her. She had no idea where he was taking her, and had no inclination to ask—anywhere away from Anna would suit her just fine.
They were halfway across the almost deserted yard when a touch on Sophie’s sleeve made her stop. But it was just the young girl Xavier had treated for a wound on her arm, holding out a piece of beautiful and distinctive Peruvian cloth.
‘What does she want?’ Sophie called after Xavier, smiling down at the child.
‘She wants to give it to you,’ Xavier said as he turned from Sophie to speak to the child’s parents.
‘But I can’t,’ Sophie whispered urgently, catching hold of Xavier’s sleeve to get his attention. ‘I don’t have anything to give her in return.’
‘I think her family might disagree with that,’ he murmured, flashing a smile at them.
‘But they have so little—’
‘And they want you to have this,’ he said firmly, taking the fabric from Sophie’s hands and tossing it round her neck. ‘It’s beautiful, and special to them. It would be impolite of you to refuse.’
He sounded almost angry as he turned back to speak to them again, Sophie thought uncomfortably. Of course it was r
ude of her to ignore the family when they had given her such a beautiful gift. Turning to them, she said, ‘Gracias, muchas gracias,’ as she held the soft woven fabric to her cheek.
To her surprise, the child took the long piece of material away from her and, taking hold of Xavier’s hand, gestured that he and Sophie must hold hands.
‘Oh, no, I—’
‘Take it,’ Xavier warned softly.
‘OK,’ Sophie agreed, uncomfortable suddenly. She pinned a smile to her face as the little girl solemnly wrapped the piece of vivid red fabric around their clasped hands to a round of applause from her family. ‘Oh, no, I’m—’
‘What?’ Xavier demanded, keeping a pleasant expression on his face while he continued to murmur in her ear. ‘Engaged to another man?’
‘What?’
‘Poor Henry Whitland,’ he drawled softly, smiling and bowing at the same time to the young girl’s family as the child, having shyly removed the piece of fabric that bound them together, placed it in Sophie’s hands.
‘How do you know—?’
‘About Henry? Simple. He telephoned to see how things are going—’ Xavier broke off to make a derisive sound. ‘They’re going pretty well, I told him. I should get her into bed any day now.’
‘Xavier, listen to me—’
Sophie could only watch in an agony of frustration as he turned on his heel and strode off, but she still made sure to express her thanks to each member of the family in turn. There was no way she was going to allow Xavier to get to her. But he had almost reached the truck…
The young girl’s mother gently removed the shawl from Sophie’s hands, where she was twisting it into a string, and arranged it around her shoulders. Then, squeezing Sophie’s arm, she turned her around and gestured with her head in Xavier’s direction.