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Send me your address. I’ll make my own way.

There was a pause, and then her phone beeped again. His address, along with an electronic smile. Nothing like his real smile. Good. It was far too early to start thinking about all the things his smile did to her.

The climb up to the top floor wasn’t anywhere near long enough to make her feel dizzy, but then Greg answered the door. A blue shirt, open just far enough to show improbably smooth, olive skin and jeans that fitted him like a glove. Dark hair, and dark eyes, which were even more striking here than in the fluorescent glare of the hospital. Couldn’t he give a girl a break?

‘That smells fabulous. What is it?’ When she followed him through to the large, sleek kitchen, the smell curled around her like a warm, comfortable blanket.

‘One of my mother’s secret recipes.’ Greg had clearly come to the same conclusion that Jess had. The easy humour they’d shared at work was the best way to forget that they were alone together in his flat. ‘You know the score. If I tell you what’s in there, I… ’

‘Yeah, I know. You have to shoot me.’

‘Yep. Or challenge you to a duel.’

‘You prefer hand-to-hand fighting?’

‘Every time.’ He surveyed the pans on the stove, gave one a stir and then turned his attention back to her. ‘Don’t you like to be able to look straight into the other man’s eyes?’

‘Of course. How else would I know exactly what he was thinking?’

He barked out a sudden laugh. ‘Touché. So tell me all about this Christmas extravaganza of yours.’

It wasn’t really hers and it wasn’t much of an extravaganza, but it was something to talk about over their meal. Greg chuckled when she told him about the plan for carol singers, dressed up as characters from Dickens, and loved the idea for storytellers in the children’s wards.

‘That’s a great idea. Aren’t you going to go through to the general wards as well?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jess shrugged. ‘I didn’t really think of doing that.’

‘Adults love to be read to as well. There’s evidence to suggest that it’s beneficial for stroke patients. I imagine that a good storyteller could capture a lot of interest with the elderly as well.’

‘Hmm. Yeah, worth thinking about.’ She should have known that Greg would be able to add something to the value of the project.

‘So what else?’

‘As it’s the hospital’s two hundredth anniversary this year, we’re going to do a small exhibition in the main foyer. How things were then. There are loads of old documents in the basement, and I was thinking of making a model of the building.’ He was giving her the same look that everyone gave her when she got to this bit. ‘It’s not as crazy as it sounds. It’s going to be done properly, I’m not thinking of just gluing a couple of empty cereal packets together. It’ll be 1:87 scale, like the model trains.’

‘Trains?’

Jess rolled her eyes. ‘What is it about men and model trains? Yes, trains if you like, the railway ran past the hospital then as well. Only I can’t find anyone who’s got any trains.’

‘I’ll give someone a ring. One of my father’s associates in America. She has a talent for getting anything you can think of.’

‘We don’t have a budget… ’

He swept her objections away with a wave of his hand. ‘That’s okay. No budget needed. Pat has a talent for that as well.’

Jess eyed him suspiciously, but he didn’t look as if he was going to come up with any further explanations. And she wasn’t in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth. ‘Thanks. That would be great.’ In for a penny… ‘And the model?’

His lips twisted into a smile. ‘Yeah, okay. I’ll sort that out too.’ He put his fork down onto his empty plate with a clatter. ‘Anything else?’

‘No, I think that’s enough to keep you busy. Or… Pat, was it?’

He grinned. Perhaps she had been a little too transparent. ‘Yeah, Pat. I’ve known her since I was five years old. She was going to retire this year but I convinced her to stay on for a little while, to help me sort out my father’s estate.’

‘Oh. Good idea.’ Jess wasn’t even going to admit to herself that she would have been jealous if Pat had turned out to be a leggy blonde. Or, more exactly, a leggy blonde in her twenties. ‘Was it very complicated, then?’

‘Yes.’ The sudden flatness of his tone said that Greg had divulged as much as he was going to on the subject. ‘Did you enjoy your food?’

‘Very much. You have a great apartment, too.’

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