The Doctor's Engagement. Sarah Morgan
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Maybe, if she wasn’t in London, she’d be able to sleep again.
‘Just say, for the sake of argument, I uprooted myself and moved to Cornwall,’ she said cautiously. ‘It still wouldn’t work. You and me pretending to be engaged, I mean.’
‘Why wouldn’t it work?’
She felt suddenly flustered. ‘It just wouldn’t. We’ve known each other for ever and we’re not—not...’
‘What are we not?’ Mark started to laugh and, to her surprise, Holly found herself blushing. Mark had never made her blush before. Never.
‘We’re not...’ she searched for the word, feeling ridiculously embarrassed ‘...loving. I mean, we hug and things but we certainly don’t behave like lovers.’
There was a slight pause. ‘We could if we tried. We may not be lovey-dovey normally, but there’s nothing to stop us pretending.’
Holly frowned and nibbled her lip. Could she do that? She’d never thought of Mark as anything but a good friend. Pretending that he was her lover would be totally alien to the way she felt about him. Could she be convincing?
‘I don’t know, Mark. I’m not sure I could do it.’
There was a pause. ‘Why not?’
He never took no for an answer!
Holly chewed her lower lip. ‘Because I’m not in love with you, for a start!’
‘Thanks, Holly!’ Mark’s voice was dry and tinged with humour. ‘First you say I’m not your type, then you say you don’t love me. You certainly know how to puncture a man’s ego, I’ll give you that.’
‘Don’t be silly. I love you as a friend, of course I do, but I don’t...’ Holly paused as she tried to explain. ‘I don’t love you romantically.’
‘Well, who’s going to know the difference? Friends is fine,’ he said firmly. ‘We’ll just throw in a bit of touchy-feely for good measure.’
‘Touchy-feely’? What on earth did he mean, ‘touchy-feely’?
Holly twisted the phone cord round her slim fingers, still feeling uneasy about the whole thing. ‘Even if I could be convincing,’ she hedged, ‘people have known us as friends for so long they’d never believe there was anything else between us.’
‘Our friends in London might think that,’ Mark agreed, ‘but down here in Cornwall no one has a clue how we feel about each other so it would be easy.’
He’d obviously thought it all through.
Holly drew breath, her thoughts tangled. ‘Why do you need a fiancée anyway? You said I’d understand once you explained. So—explain.’
There was a pause and Mark cleared his throat. ‘There’s this woman—’
Holly groaned. ‘Oh, Mark, not again!!’
Whenever Mark Logan had a problem, it was always a woman. And sometimes more than one. The man attracted the opposite sex like no one else she’d ever met.
‘Damn it, Holly, it isn’t my fault!’ Suddenly Mark sounded tired and frustrated. ‘To be honest, I was trying to steer clear of women for a while. I only started this job five months ago—’
‘Mark, I know that,’ Holly said patiently. ‘I’m the mug who helped you drag all your worldly goods down to deepest Cornwall, remember?’
And after that her whole life had fallen apart, but, of course, Mark didn’t know that yet.
‘I love this practice.’ Suddenly Mark’s voice was serious. ‘I love the patients—the fact that most of them have lived here all their lives. I love the sea and the sailing. I even love the influx of tourists. Being a GP here is my dream job really.’
‘So what’s wrong?’ Holly frowned. ‘You’ve been fending women off since you were in primary school. I can’t believe you’ve got a problem you can’t handle.’
‘I can handle it,’ Mark said smoothly. ‘I’m acquiring a fiancée. And fast.’
Holly’s green eyes widened. It was beginning to fall into place. ‘You want a fiancée to keep this woman at a distance? Isn’t that overkill? Why not just tell her you’re not interested?’
‘I did, believe me. You know I’m always straight with women. But she doesn’t want to hear it and, anyway, it isn’t that simple.’ Mark sighed and she could almost see him raking his fingers through his cropped dark hair. ‘She works in the practice.’
‘Ouch!’ Holly pulled a face at the phone. ‘You got involved with someone from the practice?’
There was a muffled curse. ‘No, I did not! I am not “involved”, as you put it. I did nothing! I haven’t encouraged her, I haven’t singled her out—I’ve been strictly professional.’
Holly thought for a moment. That was probably what had clinched it. ‘Some women are very attracted to aloof men. Especially macho, aloof men who look like you. So how did it all start?’
‘She invited me to the pub after work. I was expecting there to be a group of us. I thought she was just being friendly.’
‘Mark...’ Holly smothered a smile. ‘Women are never “just friendly” with you. They lust after you, they fantasise about you and they behave in all sorts of strange ways to attract your attention, but they are never, absolutely never, “just friendly”.’
‘That’s nonsense.’ Mark’s tone was clipped and she could sense him frowning. ‘You’re saying that a man and a woman can’t have a platonic relationship.’
‘No.’ Holly frowned thoughtfully. ‘I’m saying that a man like you can’t have a platonic relationship.’
He muttered something rude under his breath. ‘What’s different about me?’
‘Where do you want me to start?’ Holly settled herself more comfortably on the sofa. ‘You’re the archetypal tall, dark and handsome male. To put it another way, you look like a film star, and as if that wasn’t enough you’re also clever, arrogant and cool in a way that drives women wild. One flash of that killer smile and they all succumb. Trust me on this one, Mark—you are just not the sort of man that women want a platonic relationship with.’
There was a stunned silence and then Mark cleared his throat. ‘That’s rubbish. Look at you and I for a start. We’ve been friends for ever.’
‘That’s different.’ Holly gave a shrug. ‘I’ve known you for twenty-four years and I don’t see you the way other women see you. I’m immune.’
It was true. While other women had fallen heavily for Mark, she’d never seen him as anything other than her dearest friend.
‘Oh, here we go again. More ego-bashing,’ Mark drawled, his tone making it obvious that his ego was definitely intact. ‘You’re saying you don’t find me attractive?’
‘Why would you want me to? Mark, you’re my best friend!’ She rolled her eyes with exasperation. ‘I’m not in the habit of fancying my best friend. Anyway, as I said before, you’re not my type.’
‘Why?’ Suddenly he sounded curious. ‘Go on—tell me. Why aren’t I your type?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mark, I don’t know.’ She frowned impatiently. ‘I’ve never analysed it before. Basically because I don’t go for macho males, I suppose. And you’re very “male”, if you know what I mean.’
‘I’m not sure I do.’ Mark started to laugh. ‘Surely I’m meant to be “male”?’
Suddenly Holly felt flustered. ‘What I mean is you’re—you’re—very rough and tough. You know, black belt in judo, accomplished sailor,