The Doctor's Christmas. Marta Perry

the clinic door. Grant, in the hallway pulling on a lab coat, turned to her with a smile lighting his normally serious face. Her heart gave a rebellious jump.

      “Morning.”

      She concentrated on hanging up her jacket. What did Grant have to smile at, anyway? Certainly the last words that had passed between them the day before had been anything but friendly. She reached for her lab coat, only to find that Grant was already holding it for her.

      “Thank you.”

      “Sure.” His hands brushed her shoulders as she slipped the coat on.

      With an effort, she steadied her breath and took a step away from him. It was just the effect of his closeness in the dim, narrow hallway—that was all. She certainly didn’t have any longing to lean against him or to rely on him. Absolutely not.

      “You came in early.” She slipped past him, rounding the corner into the reception area and snapping on the overhead light.

      He followed, leaning against the door frame. The harsh light picked out the fine lines around his eyes, the slant of his cheekbone. His usual neat pants, pale blue dress shirt and lab coat seemed to advertise the fact that he was out of his sphere.