CHAPTER TWO

      ‘AND this is the staff tea room,’ Gwen Harold, the unit’s ward clerk, informed Kitty on Monday morning. ‘There’s a larger doctors’ room upstairs, but the lifts are so busy that by the time you get there it’s almost time to get back. Dr Chandler organised this little room for us instead. Have you met him yet?’

      ‘Um…yes,’ Kitty said, trying not to blush. ‘A couple of times now.’

      Gwen smiled. ‘He’s a fabulous director,’ she said. ‘He’s tough, but fair. And he’s got a great sense of humour. I’ve worked with a lot of A&E directors in my time but Jake’s the best by a long shot. The way I see it, we have enough drama coming through the doors without adding to it with rants and raves from the top. Jake’s always cool in a crisis. Never seen him lose his temper—not even with the junior staff.’

      ‘He sounds like the perfect boss,’ Kitty said with a forced smile.

      ‘Oh, he’s got his faults,’ Gwen said. ‘He’s quite the playboy. I don’t think he’s ever had a relationship last longer than a couple of months. A heartbreaker, that’s what he is.’ She gave Kitty a little wink. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

      ‘Thanks for the warning, but my heart is quite safe,’ Kitty said in a self-assured tone.

      ‘Got someone back in England?’ Gwen asked.

      ‘No,’ Kitty said. ‘Not any more.’

      ‘Never mind, dear,’ Gwen said, patting Kitty on the arm. ‘Plenty more fish in the sea, as they say. Let’s hope you don’t land yourself a shark while you’re here, hey?’

      ‘I’m keeping well away from the water,’ Kitty said.

      Gwen looked past Kitty and smiled. ‘Ah, speak of the devil,’ she said. ‘Jake, I believe you’ve already met our new doctor—Kitty Cargill from London?’

      ‘Sure did,’ Jake said with an easy smile. ‘Did she tell you she was dressed like a hooker at the time?’

      Kitty threw him a furious little glare before turning to Gwen. ‘I was at a fancy dress party with my cousin,’ she explained. ‘I thought she’d broken her ankle, and since this was the closest emergency department I brought her in here. But I dearly wish I hadn’t, because it’s clear that Dr Chandler thinks it’s highly amusing to embarrass me about it at every available opportunity.’

      ‘Bad Jake,’ Gwen remonstrated playfully. ‘Leave the poor girl alone.’ The buzzer rang at the front desk. ‘That’s my break over. Hope you settle in well, Dr Cargill. Call me if you need anything. Bye.’

      Kitty was still fuming. ‘Is there anyone in the hospital you haven’t told?’ she asked. ‘What about the cleaners and cooks and orderlies? Maybe you could release the CCTV footage. That would be quite hilarious, don’t you think?’

      ‘Now, why didn’t I think of that?’ Jake said with a gleaming smile.

      Kitty reined in her temper with an effort. ‘I’d like to put that embarrassing episode behind me,’ she said.

      ‘I have to work here in a professional capacity. I don’t want patients and staff giggling behind my back every time I come to work.’

      ‘You’re very uptight, aren’t you?’

      Her brows snapped together. ‘Pardon me for being a little tense, but right at this minute I’m having trouble figuring out if you are the director of this department or the ringmaster at a circus.’

      The silence rang like the one left after the sudden cracking of a stock whip.

      ‘My office,’ he said. ‘Ten minutes.’

      Kitty saw the hint of steel in his dark blue eyes before he strode away. Her stomach gave a nervous little flutter. She hadn’t been at work more than an hour. Was she going to be sacked on her very first day?

      Jake Chandler’s office was down at the end of the unit, next to the ultrasound room. Kitty straightened her shoulders and gave the door a tentative rap.

      ‘Come in,’ he commanded.

      She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. ‘I’d like to apologise,’ she said, clasping and unclasping her sweaty hands. ‘I was unpardonably rude to you. I don’t know what came over me. It was unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.’

      He remained seated behind his desk, his dark blue eyes quietly assessing her as he clicked a ballpoint pen on and off.

      Kitty chewed at her lower lip. ‘I suppose you think I’ve got no sense of humour.’

      ‘What I think is you’re only apologising because you’re afraid you’re going to get fired.’

      She met his diamond-hard gaze. ‘Am I going to get fired?’ she asked.

      He gave the pen another few clicks. ‘Do you think you deserve to be dismissed?’ he asked still nailing her with his gaze.

      She quickly moistened her pavement-dry lips. ‘It depends.’

      ‘On what?’

      ‘On whether you have a sense of humour.’

      He held her challenging look with implacable force. ‘Dr Cargill,’ he said. ‘I would like to make something quite clear right from the outset. I enjoy a joke with the best of them. I don’t believe in making an already tense and unpredictable workplace unbearable with autocratic or tyrannical behaviour. Humour is at times a safety valve in a department where life and death walk the same tightrope, to borrow the metaphor you used earlier. But one thing I will not tolerate in any shape or form is outright impertinence—especially from a newly appointed staff member who has not yet completed a full day of work. Do I make myself clear?’

      Kitty ground her teeth until her jaw ached. ‘Yes, Dr Chandler.’

      His bluer-than-blue eyes tussled with hers in a lock that made the silence hum with tension.

      A funny fizzing sensation bubbled in her belly as his steely gaze slipped to her mouth. Her lips felt the brush of his gaze as if his lips had physically rested there. It was the strangest feeling—one she had never experienced before. She became aware of her mouth, her skin, her body and her senses in a way she never had previously.

      It was disquieting.

      It was unsettling.

      It was threatening and yet somehow…alluring…

      Kitty gave herself a mental slap. Jake Chandler was a playboy. She had already been warned about him. He was a heartbreaker, and the last thing she needed was another blow to her confidence by a player, not a stayer.

      ‘May I go now?’