The Children's Doctor's Special Proposal

And there had been that weird prickle of awareness when he’d shaken her hand, which she was pretty sure he’d felt, too. Maybe this distance was his way of telling her that he had no intention of acting on it.

Well, that was fine by her. Because she didn’t want to act on it, either. She’d learned her lesson well: getting involved with a colleague was the quickest way to heartache. Never, ever again.

Later that afternoon, Rhys was walking past the ward’s playroom to his office when he heard laughter. Loud laughter. As if the children in the playroom were watching some kind of show, rather than being the general hum of noise of little ones playing independently. He couldn’t remember anyone talking about a visitor coming to entertain the children, and he knew there wasn’t a television in the playroom. So what was going on? Curious, he looked through the doorway.

And there at the far end of the room was Katrina. Sitting on a beanbag, with her feet tucked under her, surrounded by the more mobile children from the ward and what looked like most of the children from the waiting room. At first he thought she was reading them a story—and then he realised that she wasn’t holding a book. The story she was telling was straight out of her head, illustrated by a couple of glove puppets. She was getting the children involved, too—asking them questions so they made suggestions to shape the story, and persuading them all to join in with a simple song or a chorus.

He glanced at his watch. She should have been off duty half an hour ago. Yet here she was, entertaining the children.

This went beyond dedication.

Katrina Gregory clearly loved her job.

And the children clearly loved her all the way back. He’d noticed on the ward rounds how the newer parents turned straight to her for comfort, how the older ones greeted her as a friend. How the children brightened when they saw her and even the sickest ones could summon up a smile for Dr Katrina. Her warmth suffused everyone.

Even himself.

And, lord, he was tempted. Katrina was gorgeous. And it wasn’t just her personality: her midnight-blue eyes were stunning and her mouth was lush enough to make any man sit up and beg. When she’d shaken hands with him that morning, he’d been incredibly aware of her—of the softness of her skin, the light floral scent she wore, the quiet yet clear voice.

Irresistible.

He’d wanted her immediately.

And had held himself back, because it was highly unlikely a woman that attractive would still be single. Even though she didn’t wear a ring at work—he’d actually caught himself checking, during the ward round—she probably kept it on a chain round her neck, tucked inside her shirt for safety and staying close to her heart. And even if he’d got it wrong and Katrina was free, he was hardly in a position to offer her anything. His last girlfriend had told him he was so distant he might as well have been in Australia when they’d gone out together—and he knew she’d had a point. He was lousy at relationships, so it was best to stick to what he was good at. Work.

Katrina Gregory was his colleague—full stop and end of story.

Quietly, Rhys left the doorway and headed for his office.

CHAPTER TWO

THE following morning, Katrina was on her way out of Sadie’s cubicle when she saw Rhys in the corridor. ‘Morning,’ she said brightly, hoping that he wasn’t going to give her another lecture about being too close to her patients but quite ready to battle her corner if she had to.

‘Morning.’ He gave her one of the slow, sweet smiles he’d given Lynne in the kitchen the previous day—the smile that had made Katrina’s knees go ever so slightly weak—and all her annoyance melted away. ‘I’m with you in the children’s assessment clinic this morning.’

‘I thought I was on with Tim,’ she said. Their first-year foundation doctor was working mainly with her in the assessment clinic and she was enjoying his enthusiasm and freshness.

‘He called in sick this morning—he’s caught the tummy bug that’s going round. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,’ he said lightly.

‘I think I can manage,’ she said, equally lightly. Funny how the look in his eyes was making her heart beat that little bit faster. She really needed to get a grip. ‘Not that I’m trying to patronise you, but have you worked in the assessment clinic here before? I mean, you know how the system works?’

‘It’ll be my first time,’ Rhys said, ‘but I gather our patients are referred by their GPs or by the emergency department staff.’

She nodded. ‘We have a couple of paediatric nurses who do the usual checks when the children are brought in—height, weight, temperature, pulse, breathing rate, urine sample—and take a medical history, then we see the children in the order in which they arrive. Unless there’s an emergency, of course,’ she added, ‘but we do warn parents that emergencies take priority.’