Tempted By Her Hot-Shot Doc. Becky WicksЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE RAIN WAS coming down harder than she’d ever felt it. Sharp, wet pricks to her bare arms sent mini-lightning bolts through Madeline’s flesh and deep into her bones as she hurried along the London cobblestones, holding her umbrella over her as best she could.

      The bolts, of course, were mostly due to the man her agent had arranged for her to meet—America’s wealthiest and most inspiring flying doctor and a man most women would surely kill to meet—Ryan Tobias.

      His name, now rolling around in her brain, sent further spikes of adrenaline through her body, along with the goosebumps now settling in with the cold. She’d left in such a hurry she’d forgotten her jacket.

      ‘Don’t be late,’ Samantha had told her. ‘He doesn’t like it when people are late.’

      But Madeline had been so caught up in her internet research that she’d gone and made herself late anyway. She’d been determined to have as much background information on him as possible before their meeting, and it had been near impossible to tear her eyes away once she’d started.

      The internet seemed to have its own busy corner of photos, articles, videos and GIFs made from Medical Extremes footage—the show Ryan Tobias starred in along with his team of GPs and surgeons. She’d watched a clip of him walking across the glacier in Alaska to reach a stranded explorer at least five times, pausing on the moment when the camera had gone in for a close-up of his bearded, rugged face in front of the whirring helicopter blades.

      She had no idea at all about what Samantha had in mind for her to do with this man, but she couldn’t deny it was exciting. And terrifying.

      Madeline’s phone beeped, making her jump. She almost tripped over the cobblestones. Damn, she had to pull herself together.

      ‘I’m nearly there,’ she blurted hurriedly into it, just as she rounded the corner into Trinity Buoy Wharf.

      Samantha was standing there in the doorway, waiting. She was in high heels, too, Madeline noticed. Were they both dressed to impress a man they knew almost never looked impressed?

      ‘He’s already here,’ Samantha said in a low voice, taking the umbrella and ushering Madeline’s wet body through huge green doors into the sandy-coloured building.

      A flurry of filming activity assaulted her eyes as she swiped at the raindrops on her skin. Men were everywhere: lifting crates, unscrewing lighting equipment, packing things into cases. It was a studio, as she’d expected, but the hectic feel of the place, plus the knowledge that a good few pairs of eyes were now on her, threw a spanner into her already frazzled works.

      ‘Over here first,’ Samantha said, putting a firm hand to Madeline’s soaked white shirt and starting off across the room.

      She was a little too quick for her to keep up, however, and before she could stop herself her heel was catching on a cable stretched out across the floor. She almost went flying.

      ‘Are you trying to kill yourself?’

      The deep voice sounded out in front of her, just as she put her hand to the wall to steady herself.

      ‘I’m so sorry. I’m...’ Madeline trailed off, realising it wasn’t actually a wall she was touching.

      It was hard, undoubtedly, but it was breathing.

      ‘Dr Ryan,’ she blurted, straightening up instantly.

      She removed her flattened palms from his broad chest, scanned his face up close and felt her cheeks flare from pink to beetroot as her heart started pounding in her ribcage. For a strange moment she felt just as if she’d fallen asleep at her kitchen table and woken up on the YouTube channel.

      Ryan Tobias wasn’t in his trademark Medical Extremes white shirt and jacket. He was wearing a black waterproof coat and jeans. His hair, just as it always was on television, was wild and windswept—as though the breeze over London’s River Thames had as little respect for him as the wind in a Patagonian hurricane.

      She’d watched those clips twice or more. Somehow they’d airlifted a pregnant, sick lady to safety, even though Ryan and the brave pilot had been the only ones willing to risk a flight in the storm.

      He was taller than she’d expected, somehow, towering over her with a look of amusement mixed with something she couldn’t quite read in his familiar grey eyes.

      Madeline realised with horror that he must be taking in her rain-drenched hair and the small but noticeable coffee stain on her shirt. A woman had splashed her latte on her on the tube. What must he be thinking?

      She glanced around her. Samantha had been ushered off to another corner and was now apparently deep in what looked like an angst-ridden conversation with a guy waving a flowerpot.

      Ryan was still appraising her, she realised.

      He coughed and crossed his arms. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your name.’

      ‘Madeline,’ she said, flustered.

      ‘Where did you come from, Madeline?’

      ‘From a much less embarrassing situation,’ she replied without thinking.

      Surprise flickered in his eyes before he uncrossed his arms and laughed. A proper laugh that revealed his teeth, as white as snow-capped mountains—a laugh she was pretty sure she’d heard only two or three times on the television.

      ‘Well, they do insist on blocking the walkways like this,’ he said, motioning to their feet. ‘Good thing you didn’t twist your ankle in those shoes. I don’t know which box my emergency supplies are in.’

      ‘Guess I got lucky.’

      He threw her a surreptitious half-smile. ‘I prefer to live life on the edge of danger, too.’

      ‘I’ve never seen you in high heels.’

      She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder as he laughed again. A part of her couldn’t quite believe she was making Dr Ryan Tobias laugh.

      ‘Anyway, my agent Samantha, over there, kind of surprised me with all this, so...’

      ‘Your agent?’ Ryan’s expression shifted before her. ‘What do you mean?’

      Shards of ice were stuck in his eyes now, and it was as if Madeline was alone with him on the peak of a snowy mountain, or maybe trekking over that glacier to reach another lost adventurer who’d been injured and needed his help. Either way, she was suddenly much colder.

      ‘Agent for what?’ His arms were crossed again.

      ‘My writing career.’

      His forehead creased into a frown.

      ‘Sorry—sorry.’ Samantha bustled up behind her, breaking