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‘Oh, I don’t know. They’re pretty good, if I do say so myself.’
‘So modest.’ She snorted. ‘Well, if you’ve stopped playing Great British Bake-Off with your home-made mince pies...’
‘“Playing Great British Bake-Off”?’ He flashed a wolfish smile, which made her skin positively goosebump. ‘I would ask if you’re passive aggressive with everyone, or if it’s just me, but, given the reputation you’ve already garnered amongst your colleagues in the few months you’ve been here, I fear I already know the answer.’
She shouldn’t take the bait. She mustn’t.
‘And what reputation would that be?’ she demanded, regretting it instantly.
His eyes gleamed mischievously. She half expected him not to answer her.
‘Focussed, dedicated, a good doctor.’
‘Oh.’ She bit her lip. ‘Well...then...thanks.’
‘Even if you do walk around like you’ve got a stick up your behind.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Heat flooded her cheeks. She could feel it.
‘Sorry.’ He held his hands up as though appeasing her. ‘Their words, not mine. But you have to admit, you are a little bit uptight. A little prim and proper.’
She opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed again.
If she was honest, she’d heard worse about herself. At best, she was considered to be a good—even great—doctor to her patients, but cold and unapproachable to her colleagues. A bit aloof.
The only person who knew different was Saskia; her best friend since their Hollywood A-list mothers had declared each other their nemesis, over twenty-five years ago.
‘Of course, I don’t think that,’ Sol continued, clearly enjoying himself. Not that she blamed him—he couldn’t have any idea of her inner turmoil. ‘But then, most women have a way of...melting around me.’
‘How do you get away with that?’ She shook her head. ‘Do you actually enjoy living up to all the worst stereotypes of your own Lothario reputation?’
‘Let me guess, in your book that’s wrong?’
‘Oh, you’re incorrigible,’ Anouk snapped. ‘Though I assume you’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘You mean it wasn’t?’ He clasped his hand over his heart, laughing. ‘I’m cut to the quick.’
A deep, rich, sinful sound, which had no right to flood through her the way it did. She hated how her body reacted to him, despite every order from her brain to do the opposite. Tipping her head back, she jutted her chin out a fraction and ignored him.
‘All we know so far is that we have a seven-year-old on her way having fallen approximately nine feet off a climbing frame in a park...’
‘She landed on her head and suffered loss of consciousness for a minute or so,’ he concluded. ‘The heli-med team are on the roof now and our response team has gone to meet them.’
‘Right.’ She didn’t do a very good job of covering her surprise. ‘So, if you could just stop making eyes at the female contingent of our team long enough to concentrate on the casualty, that would be great.’
The amusement disappeared from his face in a split second. His tone was more than a little cool.
‘I always put my patients ahead of anything else.’
She actually felt chastened.
‘Yes... I... I know that.’ Anouk flicked out a tongue to moisten her lips. ‘I apologise, and I take it back. Your professional reputation is faultless.’
Better than faultless. He was an esteemed neurosurgeon, rapidly heading to the top of his field.
‘It’s just my personal reputation that languishes in muddier waters?’ he asked, apparently reading her thoughts.
But at least the smile was back, his previous disapproval seemingly forgotten. Still, Anouk was grateful when the doors at the far end of the trauma area pulled open with a hiss and the helicopter team brought their patient in.
