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Love Affairs. Louise AllenЧитать онлайн книгу.

Love Affairs - Louise Allen


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me the abdomen. You can have the femur.’

      ‘I was about to tackle the patella. The orthos are coming down to the femur.’

      ‘When did you last check him?’

      ‘Her—and ten minutes ago, but could you do it, before you do the abdo? I want to get the patella back in now and put him out of his misery.’

      ‘So why not get the orthos to do it while they’re here?’

      ‘Because he’s already had the ketamine, and anyway I like patellas.’

      And with a cheeky wink he picked up the notes and walked off, whistling softly, and left her looking after him and trying not to give herself away too hopelessly.

      ‘He is so-o-o cute.’

      ‘Kate, get over it,’ she said firmly, trying not to think how cute he was and what she was going to do with him. ‘Want to help me with the abdo?’

      ‘Sure.’ Kate pushed herself away from the desk and followed her, and nothing more was said about him, to Annie’s relief.

      Not that it stopped her thinking...

      * * *

      ‘Can I ask you something?’

      ‘Sure. Does this need a coffee?’

      ‘Maybe.’ She chewed her lip. She still hadn’t quite committed herself to this crazy idea, but she was tempted. Oh, so tempted. ‘Have you got time?’

      ‘I have at the moment. The patella’s being put in a cast, the femur’s gone off to Theatre, and the head injury is under observation. How’s your abdomen?’

      She sucked it in automatically at the mention of the word. ‘My abdomen?’ she said, arching a brow at him.

      He glanced down and grinned. ‘Well—not yours. Yours is obviously fine.’

      ‘Only fine?’ she asked provocatively, and then could have kicked herself for flirting with him. ‘Whatever. My abdo,’ she said hastily, grabbing the conversation and steering it rapidly on to the right track again, ‘is under obs. I’m not sure what it is. Not appendix, I don’t think, but I’m not sure. There’s a fairly convoluted history. I’m waiting for the GP to call me back on my mobile.’

      He nodded. ‘Abdomens are funny things. There’s a whole world of stuff in there. Kids with acute abdomens are a nightmare. Two cappuccinos, please. Take out.’

      He handed over the money, gave her her coffee and steered her out of the door. ‘I take it this is a private conversation?’

      She felt herself colour. ‘I just wanted to clarify things.’

      ‘OK.’ He sat down, patted the bench beside him and shifted so he was looking at her. ‘Clarify what?’

      She looked away. Those dark, grey-blue eyes with the navy rims were disconcerting, and this was hard enough.

      ‘This...relationship,’ she said, for want of a better word. ‘Are we talking exclusivity?’

      He let out a short huff that could have been laughter. He sounded slightly stunned.

      ‘Of course! What did you think—I was going to run a string of women? I hardly have time to sleep as it is. No.’ He reached out a hand, turned her face gently towards him and shook his head slowly. ‘No way is there anyone else even on my radar at the moment. My life is already hellish complicated, Annie. I need time out—from work, from my grandfather, from...’

      From the ramifications of his potential inheritance. ‘From all sorts of things,’ he finished.

      She watched him, saw the sadness flicker in his eyes again, the desperation. ‘So, let me get this right. You’re looking for—respite care?’

      He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling. ‘Pretty much. I’d rather call it me time.’

      ‘Me time? I could use some of that.’

      ‘Was that a yes?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly, but her heart was pounding. ‘I don’t know how we’d arrange it.’

      ‘You could come to me. My house is just round the corner from yours, a three-minute walk. You can come in the back way, it’s more anonymous. And it’s utterly private. I don’t know my neighbours, and I don’t have time to get to know them. Nobody will know who you are.’

      ‘But when?’

      ‘Whenever we’re both free. Whenever your mother is able to let you go.’

      She chewed her lip. Oh, Lord. Her mother. ‘I’ll have to tell her,’ she said, and closed her eyes.

      ‘Is that a problem?’

      ‘Only that she’ll know what we’re doing.’

      ‘You could tell her you’re playing bridge.’

      ‘Late at night? More likely poker.’

      He laughed again, and she felt the huff of his warm breath against her skin. ‘Annie, don’t sweat it. Tell her you’re going to the cinema, going for a walk—anything.’

      ‘Lie?’

      ‘No! Just—keep it private. Between us.’

      ‘Private sounds good,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t want anyone knowing. They just ask questions, and I don’t need that.’

      ‘Nor do I. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Especially not anyone here. The rumour mill is rife as it is just because we went to the theatre. Oh, which reminds me, I sent some flowers to Elizabeth as a thank-you for the tickets, and Jerry popped in this morning to thank me. She’s doing well.’

      ‘Good. And talking of telling each other things, I think you should know Kate thinks you’re cute, by the way.’

      ‘Cute? Cute?’

      He sounded disgusted, and she laughed at him. ‘What’s wrong with cute?’

      ‘Little girls are cute,’ he said, his disgust evident, and she suppressed her laughter, but then his expression changed, his eyes searching hers. ‘So—is that a yes?’

      Trapped by those amazing, expressive eyes, she stared up at him and her heart thumped against her ribs.

      ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘That’s a yes.’

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