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He was so good-looking it was hard to concentrate and it would have been very, very easy to give in to all that Greek charm.
But she wasn’t going to.
And she definitely wasn’t going on a date with him.
He’d be the same as all the others. Worse probably, if his niece was to be believed. What had she said? That women were always chasing after him?
Libby shuddered. Those sorts of men were always the worst. Smug and arrogant. And definitely not to be trusted.
If he expected her to do any chasing then he was in for a shock. She had more sense than to fall for a pair of sexy dark eyes and an incredible body.
She was going to be running as hard as she could in the opposite direction, and now she knew where to find him she’d be delivering him a cheque at the first opportunity.
She lifted her hand to her mouth, touching her lips gently, wondering whether it was obvious to everyone that she’d just been kissed. She felt as though it was branded on her forehead.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door of the treatment room, glancing furtively around her to check that no one was watching.
She could do it, she told herself firmly. She was a professional and she could work with this man.
OK, so he obviously had a Ph.D. in kissing and he was totally different from doctors that she worked with on a daily basis, but she could do it.
Bev sidled up to her, looking sheepish. ‘Er, Libby…’
Libby glared at her. This was all her fault! ‘Go away. You are not my favourite person right now.’
‘Libby, the man’s gorgeous, you should be thanking me for making it happen.’
‘Thanking you?’ Libby let out a choked laugh. ‘Thanks to you, our new consultant thinks I’m a dizzy, brainless lush with a sad love life.’
‘He paid £1000 for one date with you,’ Bev pointed out wistfully. ‘That’s an enormous sum of money. He can’t think you’re that bad.’
Libby groaned and rubbed slim fingers over her aching forehead. ‘I can’t believe you got me into this mess. How am I ever going to have any credibility with him?’
‘You’re a great nurse,’ Bev said firmly. ‘The minute he sees you in action, he’ll be bowled over.’
‘He undressed me,’ Libby hissed in an outraged tone, and Bev’s eyes widened.
‘Wow. You lucky thing.’
Libby looked at her blankly. ‘Lucky?’
‘Libby, he’s gorgeous,’ Bev breathed wistfully. ‘He is the most stunning-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on.’
‘Precisely. His rat factor must be off the scale.’
Bev rolled her eyes. ‘If someone fancied me enough to pay £1000 for a date, then as far as I’m concerned they could have me for ever. It’s incredibly romantic.’
‘It’s not romantic. It’s embarrassing. And, thanks to you, from now on I’m going to have to avoid him. And how am I going to work with a man I have to avoid? Aargh!’ Libby rolled her eyes in frustration and at that moment one of the more junior nurses hurried up.
‘Libby, can you take a look at Rachel Miller for me, please? The GP sent her in an hour ago with a very high temperature and it’s showing no sign of coming down. I don’t like the look of her. She’s still waiting to be seen by one of the doctors but they’ve been caught up in clinic and I wasn’t sure whether to bother the new consultant.’
With a last meaningful look at Bev, Libby followed her colleague down the ward and into one of the side rooms that had cots and beds for parents who wanted to stay.
The baby was in a side ward and Libby could see instantly that she was very poorly. She lay still in the cot, her breathing noisy and her cheeks flushed. Immediately Libby snapped into professional mode, her personal worries forgotten.
The baby’s mother was by her side, pale and worried. ‘She’s really floppy and so, so hot.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Libby spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the child, assessing her breathing. ‘When did she become ill?’
‘She was a bit under the weather yesterday morning and then she just got worse and worse. By teatime she was just lying on the sofa.’
And she was just lying now. Totally unresponsive. It wasn’t a good sign.
‘Could you get her interested in anything—toys, books?’ The mother shook her head. ‘Nothing. She just lay there. Finally I panicked and took her to the GP and he sent us in here.’
‘And when did she last have paracetamol syrup?’
‘Two hours ago.’ The mother looked at her anxiously. ‘What’s going to happen?’
‘I’m going to check her temperature now and then ask one of the doctors to see her straight away.’ Libby reached for the thermometer. ‘Has she had all her immunisations, Mrs Miller?’
