Her Honourable Playboy. Kate Hardy
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‘His dad didn’t bother to stick around and help guide him. What the hell is wrong with men?’
Seb knew that wasn’t a dig aimed at him—he had a feeling it went far deeper than that. Did Alyssa have issues with her father? Then again, he thought wryly, they couldn’t be much worse than his own issues with his mother.
He said nothing, just held her until she’d calmed down enough to pull away.
‘Before you say it,’ he said softly, ‘that was a professional hug. That was a “we’ve got a patient critically ill in Resus and it’s a bad day” hug from one doctor to another. An “I know how you feel because I’ve been there” type of thing. No strings, no expectations.’
She didn’t say anything, but the hard look in her eyes softened.
Did she really think he was that much of a louse—that he’d see she was emotionally drained and use it as a lever to get her into bed? Is that what everyone else in the hospital thought of him?
Suddenly, Seb didn’t like himself very much.
‘Look, you can’t do anything else for him now. We’re not staff—not here,’ he said. ‘Let’s call it a day. Go home, get some rest. And ring in tomorrow.’
‘And they’ll tell me he’s “comfortable”. Patient confidentiality,’ she said bitterly.
‘Explain who you are. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll lean on the consultant for you,’ he said.
She didn’t look convinced. ‘Alyssa, if you stay here all night, he might still be critical in the morning,’ he said gently. ‘You need to get some rest. Come on.’
They drove back to her flat in silence.
‘Thank you for tonight,’ she said stiltedly.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘The accident wasn’t your fault.’
‘I didn’t mean that.’
She frowned. ‘What, then?’
She already thought the worst of him, so she may as well know the truth. ‘This night out was supposed to be a make-over for you, dinner and a show. Except it annoyed me that you were throwing it back in my face—so I decided on the spur of the moment to make you go out with me tonight. Which meant I didn’t have time to get tickets for a show or organise a make-over.’
That was the last thing she’d expected from him. A confession—and an apology. Despite her misery—and the fact that she felt so very, very cold—she smiled. ‘You’re admitting to being a spoiled brat and having a temper tantrum?’
‘Yep.’ A hint of dimple. ‘Forgive me?’
And then she realised what he was doing. Charming her. She’d say yes; he’d ask for a kiss to prove it; and, the next thing she knew, she’d be inviting him in for coffee. No—worse than that. She’d be inviting him in for sex. Partly because she found him attractive, and partly because, after the accident they’d just helped to deal with, she needed to celebrate life.
Hell. Not this way. Not a one-night stand with Seb Radley.
‘Nothing to forgive,’ she said, and unclipped her seat belt. ‘Thank you for dinner.’
‘My pleasure.’ His expression was odd, unreadable.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, and climbed out of the car before he could come round and open the door for her.
As if he guessed why, he stayed put and didn’t suggest seeing her to her door. Though she noticed that he waited until she’d unlocked her door, switched on her light and closed the door again behind her before he pulled away. Politeness? Genuine concern? Or just hoping that she’d change her mind and make an offer?
She wasn’t sure which. Maybe a bit of all three.
One thing she was sure about. Sebastian Radley had the power to unsettle her, if she let him. So she’d keep her distance in future.
CHAPTER FOUR
SEB couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the accident—he’d seen far worse in the emergency department. Years of working in emergency medicine had taught him that you couldn’t save everyone: you did your best and accepted everything else.
No, it was Alyssa.
She was the first woman he could remember not being able to charm. Which in itself was annoying. And then there was the fact that she’d been sharp enough to guess that he was hiding something. She was hiding something herself, too, he thought—maybe a past relationship, and definitely issues with her father.
Ah, hell. He had to get her out of his head. He wasn’t in the market for a long-term relationship, and Alyssa wasn’t the type who was up for something short term. She didn’t even like him very much.
What he needed was a distraction. Preferably blonde and cute, with an hourglass figure. Tomorrow, he’d start looking.
‘How did it go, then?’ Tracey asked. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘It was OK,’ Alyssa said coolly.
‘A night out with Sexy Seb, just OK?’ Fliss asked. ‘Come off it! Where did he take you?’
‘Dinner.’ At Fliss’s uncompromising stare, Alyssa added, ‘In a restaurant overlooking the Thames.’
‘What did you have?’ Tracey asked.
Alyssa chuckled and added milk to her coffee. ‘What is this, an interrogation? I had chicken livers, monkfish and lemon posset. And the food was very nice.’
‘And?’ Fliss prompted.
‘And that’s it.’
‘Seb just took you home?’ Tracey sounded disappointed.
‘Actually, we ended up in the emergency department at Albert’s.’
‘What? Are you all right?’ Fliss asked.
‘Yeah. Fine. We stopped to help at an accident.’ Alyssa’s jaw tightened. ‘Teenager, just passed his test, went through a red light and hit a lorry. Crush injuries.’
Tracey winced. ‘Please, don’t. That makes me think of Michael.’ Tracey’s son was seventeen and driving her crazy with requests to put him on the insurance for her car and take him out between driving lessons. ‘Did he make it?’
Alyssa grimaced. ‘He was critical last night. I rang this morning and—after I’d explained who I was and that it was discussing a joint patient, not breaking confidentiality—the hospital said he had a good chance, but he’s lost both legs. Poor kid.’
‘That’s a hell of an end to an evening. Maybe you ought to make another date, to make up for it,’ Fliss suggested.
‘I don’t want to go out with Seb.’ He was an excellent doctor, and he had a good heart—the fact that he’d met her at the hospital last night instead of making her find her own way home proved that. But she also knew his reputation. Seb didn’t do more than one date—a date that usually ended up in his bed. And Alyssa didn’t want to be a notch on his bedpost. ‘And just stop trying to matchmake, you two,’ she added, trying to keep her tone light. ‘It’s not going to work. For a start, Seb likes leggy blondes and I’m not one.’
‘Nothing that a bit of peroxide couldn’t fix,’ Tracey said with a grin. ‘My Kelly’s nearly finished her hairdresser and beautician training. Just say the word and I’ll send her over. In fact, she could do you hair extensions, so you could do the “tossing your hair over your shoulder” bit.’
‘No. Absolutely not,’ Alyssa said, laughing. ‘I’m fine as I am. But thanks for the offer. I think.’
She was still smiling when she