“I’ll fight for my ward’s rights”
Jack exhaled slowly. “I think I’ll make sure I stay on your right side.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry. When hospital politics interfere with my patients it drives me around the bend. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“Sounds to me as if you need chocolate,” he said, producing a bar from the pocket of his white coat. “Catch.”
“Thanks.” She broke off a square, smiled, and threw the rest of the bar back to him. “Perhaps it’s my lucky day after all—having a Special Reg who can read my mind.”
They exchanged a glance and her smile faded. On second thought, she hoped he couldn’t read her mind. Because chocolate wasn’t what she wanted right then. She wanted Jack Sawyer’s arms around her. And that beautiful mouth teasing hers….
I always get “first scenes” before anything else. And the opener for The Heart Consultant’s Lover is based on something that happened to me—I’d borrowed my boss’s car and no way could I shoehorn it into this tiny space. I asked a passing stranger to help, and it turned out he was in the front row of my presentation, half an hour later!
My late mother was a cardiac nurse so the setting owes much to her—I loved hearing her stories of life on the ward, and Calderford General has the same lovely community spirit.
Consultant Miranda Turner discovers that the man who rescued her is her number two on her new ward. She falls in love with him—but her father is the hospital clinical director and doesn’t approve of relationships between staff. Plus they come from different worlds—Miranda’s from a rich family and Jack’s from the wrong side of town. He’s been hurt by a rich girl before; and Miranda’s got a secret she’s never, ever told. So can they come to terms with their past, beat all the barriers and find true love?
I’m always delighted to hear from readers, so do come and visit me at www.katehardy.com or www.millsandboon.co.uk.
With love,
Kate Hardy
The Heart Consultant’s Lover
Kate Hardy
For Fi—best friend and godmother extraordinaire—with much love
CONTENTS
NO WAY was she going to get the car into that tiny space next to the massive concrete pillar. And Seb would kill her if there was a single speck of dirt on his precious car, let alone a scratch. As for a dent…He’d still murder her. Just slowly.
Maybe she should have stayed away. This was Fate’s way of telling her that it was the wrong thing to do. If she’d been meant to get the job, her car wouldn’t have had a flat battery, she’d have been at Calderford General in plenty of time to park, and she wouldn’t have got a speeding ticket just outside Edinburgh either.
‘Serves you right, Miranda Turner, for thinking you could come home on your own terms,’ she muttered.
The knock on her window almost gave her heart failure. And it took her ages to wind down the steamed-up window.
‘Are you OK, or are you lost?’ a voice enquired.
Oh, no. She knew that look. What’s she doing in a car like that if she can’t drive it? Every time she’d driven Seb’s car, she’d had the same reaction—men either scoffed or made sure they overtook her.
On the other hand…maybe this might be the lucky break she needed. She smiled sweetly and put on her best fluffy-and-feminine voice. ‘I know it’s terribly feeble of me, but it’s not actually my car. And I’ve always been so hopeless at parking.’ She fiddled with her hair. ‘And that space is so tiny!’
He looked at her in seeming disbelief, then at the space. ‘It is a bit tight,’ he allowed.
She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘I know it’s a terrible imposition, but would you be kind enough to…?’ Hopefully the chance to get behind the wheel of a vintage MG Roadster would be enough to make him say yes.
It was. ‘Sure.’
Gratefully, she grabbed her handbag and hopped out of the car. And watched him park the damned thing in one fluid movement. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy. Why couldn’t she do it? But she never had been able to park cars. Not since the day she’d passed her driving test, borrowed her mother’s car and scraped it in the car park. Her father had gone bananas. Ever since then Miranda would rather have abseiled blindfolded down the Angel of the North, the huge sculpture just outside Newcastle, than park a car.
‘Thank you,’ she said as he handed her the car keys. ‘I really do appreciate it.’
‘No problem. Are you here to visit someone?’
You