Playing the Joker

Playing the Joker
Caroline Anderson

ABOUT THAT NIGHT… Senior registrar Dr Jo Harding had hoped she might get the job as Consultant in Gynaecology at Audley Memorial Hospital, but instead it went to Alex Carter—the man she had one glorious stolen night with four years ago. He might still be irresistible, but Jo has to fight her temptation—not least of all because their night had far-reaching consequences which Alex, as yet, knows nothing about…THE AUDLEY—where love is the best medicine of all…

Playing the Joker

Caroline Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents

Cover (#u950d628c-ba65-5636-82d7-785200b61e18)

Title Page (#ube3c2855-7c38-50e8-8d67-f0ec780d461a)

Chapter One (#u638207c6-a91d-5cd1-b321-989dc9d46663)

Chapter Two (#u5ce857fc-438e-527a-a029-4514089262da)

Chapter Three (#u66db9171-89ad-5e9b-931d-656dc8a3fe4c)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4e6ddeaf-504a-5220-8df5-4bdc88f732a0)

‘EXCUSE me a moment.’

The man seated behind the desk stretched out a hand and picked up the phone, his manner briskly professional as he dealt with the caller.

‘Davie—yes, Jo. Ah, right—can you fill me in?’ There was a pencil-tapping pause. ‘I see—how many weeks is she?’

The other man stood up and walked over to the window, his warm brown eyes scanning the view with interest. The office—soon to be his office—was at the rear of the building on the third floor of what was apparently known affectionately as the Stork’s Nest, the six-storey maternity block that overlooked the rest of the hospital and the woodland beyond.

The trees were rich and green, but it would soon be September and then, as the nights drew in, the leaves would blaze with colour, giving way in time to the stark beauty of winter and then the bright, soft fullness of spring.

God knew he was ready for some beauty and fullness in his life.

‘Right, that’s that. Shall we go down for coffee and meet the team?’

Alexander Carter straightened his tie, drew back his shoulders and gave Davie a brief nod.

Thank you.’

He followed the man through the door, down the stairs and along a wide, busy hospital corridor to the staff canteen and coffee lounge.

There is a consultants’ dining-room, but in practice very few of us use it—the food’s the same, but it lacks the ambience.’

‘I can imagine.’ He glanced around him at the laughing crowd that seemed to shift and flow with a life of its own. ‘It’s popular.’

Owen Davie laughed. ‘It’s eleven o’clock—everyone’s come for their fix of caffeine. Ah, here’s part of the team. Allow me to introduce you. Dr Anne Gabriel, your SHO, and Dr Maggie Wells, paediatric SHO. You’ll be seeing a lot of each other, I imagine. Ladies, this is Alexander Carter, who’ll be taking over from me from Monday.’

As his mouth made the usual and accepted noises, Alex’s eyes registered and catalogued the two women—Anne Gabriel, his SHO, a little brown mouse of a woman, her face remarkable only for its guarded expression and a certain wistfulness in the wide hazel eyes, and Maggie Wells, the paediatrician, her long red-blonde hair tied over one shoulder, her deep blue eyes in her fragile-seeming face bright and alert, assessing him with interest. They were both slightly on the small side of average, but, where Maggie was full of coiled energy and youthful enthusiasm, Anne, although slimmer, was somehow fuller, more mature—a woman to Maggie’s girl. He glanced at her ring finger and saw it was empty—not that that necessarily meant anything these days, but he was curious. She would, after all, be working very closely with him over the next few months at least.

They chatted for a few minutes, but first Maggie’s bleep and then Anne’s called them away, and he was left alone with Owen Davie. The man turned to him.

‘Your senior registrar won’t be here for a few minutes; she’s admitting a patient from one of the antenatal clinics at the moment. Perhaps I should warn you about her. She’s a very good doctor, but given to rather radical tendencies. We’ve had a few minor barneys over procedure on occasion, but nothing drastic. I think you should know, though, that she applied for my job. Her age and lack of experience went against her, but given time and the moderation of maturity she should be an excellent consultant one day. In fact, if it hadn’t been for you, she might well have been given the post.’

Alex frowned. He really didn’t want to start with staffing difficulties. ‘Do you think she’ll work for me, or do you think she’ll look for another job?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I’m almost certain she’ll stay. I’m only telling you this because you might find her a little resentful, but she’s very professional in a rather off-the-wall kind of way, and she knows she’ll get promotion soon enough. She’s just a bit of a wild card—the joker in the pack, you might say. Ah, here she is now—Dr Harding!’

Alex looked across the room towards the doorway, and saw a tall, elegant woman with flaming dark red hair tumbling down her shoulders. Her back was towards them, her white coat flung over her arm, her body clad in a figure-hugging bottle-green linen dress that was belted in to her narrow waist with a broad cinch of scarlet. Her body was slender but lush, her curves full of promise, but it was that unbelievable hair that drew him.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking that made her seem familiar—achingly, intimately familiar—but then she threw back her head and laughed, and, as she did so, she turned away from her companions and strode towards them on impossibly high heels.

Alex felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. His heart crashed against his ribs, his tongue felt so thick that he thought he would choke on it, and a heavy surge of desire tautened his body with recognition.

As she met his eyes, her impossibly long legs faltered, but then she was there at his side, those fascinating aquamarine eyes wide with wariness and something else—regret?—but not before they had registered a leap of joy. She hadn’t changed, except perhaps to add the lustre of maturity to already perfect features. Her skin looked unbelievably soft, smooth and rich like pale cream under the faint scatter of freckles. But perhaps she had changed, just slightly. He sensed rather than saw a touch of sadness in her that hadn’t been there before.

‘Joanna, allow me to introduce you to my replacement, Alexander Carter. Mr Carter, this is Dr Harding, your senior registrar.’

He held out his hand. ‘It’s good to see you again, Jo.’

She was stunned. She had been miles away, her mind on her clinic, when Owen Davie had reminded her that the new man was there and she was expected to meet him for coffee. By the time she had admitted the patient she was even later, and, with her mind still half on that problem and half on the afternoon list, she had scarcely given a thought to the ‘new man’.

Alex. That was all she had had, for four years—no surname, no address, no photograph. She’d thought she had started to forget, but at the first glimpse of him her body leapt to life, her pulse thrumming, her senses alert and alive for the first time in years.

The first surge of joy was quickly dampened, both by the memory of his betrayal and the horror of what had followed, leaving her guarded and wary. Why now? she thought. Why not all those years ago when I had something to offer?

She extended her hand mechanically and took his, touching him for the first time in four years, but she had forgotten nothing. His hand was hard and warm, lean, strong, the back scattered with dark hair, but his grip, although firm, was gentle. She felt his touch like a surge of electricity right through to her bones.

He looked older but more relaxed now. The hunted look was gone, but it had left its mark in the lines around his eyes and the touch of grey at his temples. He was heavier, too, his shoulders broader, his chest deeper than before.

She met his eyes, that gentle brown that was so warm, and saw a wealth of remembrance.