Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant. Sarah Morgan
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had always been frighteningly clever.
‘Why medicine?’
And why this hospital, where she was going to see him every day?
She fought the rush of panic that threatened to swamp her and focused on his tie. Silk. Designer. Sufficiently muted not to induce a headache in a patient with a head injury.
‘I like the adrenaline rush. When you’re dealing with lives, the stakes are higher than in the money markets.’
He gave a careless shrug and she found her gaze drifting upwards to his powerful shoulders. If anything, he was even more spectacular than he’d been eleven years before. Jago Rodriguez was sex in the raw, so overwhelmingly masculine that just looking at him was enough to punch the breath from her body.
Appalled by her own thoughts and the traitorous stab of awareness that she felt low in her stomach, she looked away from him.
What was the matter with her? He’d been in the room for less than five minutes and already her insides were turning somersaults. Did she have absolutely no sense of self-preservation?
It depressed her that she could still react to him, knowing just how badly he’d hurt her. Weren’t doctors supposed to be warm and caring?
For a short, blissful interlude she’d thought that Jago possessed those qualities, but experience had shown that he was capable of being every bit as ruthless, ambitious and macho as her father.
Jago didn’t have a compassionate bone in his body and she certainly couldn’t imagine him as a doctor.
As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t doctor material. She started to shiver.
Why now? Why did she have to bump into Jago now, when she’d finally managed to rebuild an emotionally comfortable life for herself?
She was marrying Freddie and she was never again going to feel that breathless, stomach-churning excitement that she’d experienced with Jago.
Those slumberous eyes, as dark as obsidian, reflected not a hint of warmth or tenderness. Nothing that reflected the intense emotions which had characterised their relationship. The tension in the room sucked the breath from her body but he surveyed her with an almost indifferent coolness that made it blatantly clear he had no positive feelings for her whatsoever.
It was almost as if the very sight of her offended him, which was utterly ridiculous. After all, he’d been the one who’d walked away from her without the smallest explanation.
And maybe that shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. She’d been well aware of his reputation when she’d become involved with him. In fact, his reputation had been part of the fascination, at least to begin with, and he’d always warned her that he didn’t do commitment.
So why had she been so devastated when he’d ended it? And did she really expect him to be harbouring romantic memories about her? Just remembering all her innocent fantasies about him filled her with mortification.
She’d been so naïve.
She suddenly felt horribly vulnerable in her NHS nightie that was open all the way down the back.
If she had to face Jago she would have chosen to be wearing armour.
‘I heard your voice when the paramedics brought me in.’ Her voice was a croak. ‘Was it you who—?’
‘Who sorted you out? Yes, it was. I seem to make a habit of it, don’t I? And it’s always on the same date.’ He strolled forward and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Tell me, Katy. What were you running from this time?’
‘Nothing.’
Her memories.
‘You could have been killed. It took them an hour to cut you out of the car.’ His tone was matter-of-fact. ‘Do you think I’ve forgotten the significance of today, Katy? It’s the tenth of July. Your birthday. So the question is, what are those unspeakable parents of yours trying to force you to do this time?’
Their eyes clashed and she knew that he was remembering her eighteenth birthday eleven years previously. Another occasion when she’d been running and he’d rescued her …
‘I’m going to be a doctor.’
Katy faced her father, her heart beating so fast that she felt faint. There wasn’t going to be a row. There couldn’t be. They were surrounded by influential people. She’d chosen to confront him in the middle of their birthday party, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do much.
Her father looked at her impatiently. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Katherine. You’re going to do this cordon bleu cookery course in Switzerland. I’ve paid the fees.’
Katy took several gulps of air and realised that her father was so dismissive of her that he didn’t even listen to her any more.
‘But I don’t want to cook, and I don’t want to model,’ she said hesitantly, refusing to let the subject drop, digging her fingers into her damp palms as she faced her father. ‘I’m going to be a doctor.’
She’d applied for a place and had been accepted subject to her exam results. Telling her father was the last step to achieving her dream.
Her father’s expression became ugly, his stance suddenly menacing. ‘You’re not. It’s bad enough that Alex has chosen to be a doctor when he’s got the brains to join me and make a fortune in the City, without you doing the same thing.’
Katy refrained from telling him that it had been glancing through Alex’s prospectuses from medical school that had helped her finally make up her mind. She’d already wasted enough time modelling.
Now she was going to study medicine.
‘You have the looks to be a highly successful model,’ her mother added nervously, lifting a hand to wave at one of the guests and pinning a false smile on her face. ‘Thanks to your father, you’re wealthy enough not to have to work. Have some fun until you meet someone suitable and then get married.’
‘But I want to work,’ Katy blurted out, forgetting that they were surrounded by people. ‘I want to earn a living. I want a career.’
‘Lower your voice, Katherine!’ Her mother’s tone was a soft mutter and she glanced round self-consciously. ‘Your father has important guests here. We don’t want everyone gossiping.’
Katy gritted her teeth. She didn’t care about gossip. She just wanted him to listen to her for once. For once she wanted him to respect her opinion on something.
‘Please Dad, I—’
‘The subject is closed, Katherine.’ Her father’s face was cold and unsmiling. ‘On the first of October you’re going off to your cookery course and that’s the end of it. Don’t mention it again or you’ll make me angry.’
And Katy knew exactly what that meant.
Her heart started to beat faster and she dug her nails deeper into her palms. It was the threat of her father’s fury that had prevented her from saying something before now. She’d sneaked off to interviews, accepted Alex’s help in finding accommodation and the only thing left to do now was to tell her parents.
And she was going to tell them.
‘Dad—’
‘I don’t want the subject mentioned again.’ With that her father strode off across the lawn to talk to the guests, leaving Katy with a desire to scream with frustration.
How was she ever going to get her father to accept her plans?
Suddenly it was all too much.
Tears springing into her eyes, she spun round and ran across the lawn, ignoring the astonished looks she received from the guests, ignoring her mother’s frosty glare.
She didn’t slow her pace