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A Kiss To Change Her Life
Karin Baine
A new beginning?Jessica Halliday is producing a documentary to support Belfast’s Community Children’s Hospital, and she needs handsome paediatrician Rob Campbell on board. But to persuade him she’ll have to put her heart on the line and open up about her infertility…Jessica’s confession leads Rob to share a part of his heart he’s long kept hidden. With an unexpected intimacy created after just one kiss, their walls begin to crumble. Can Rob create a new happy-ever-after…this time with Jessica by his side?



Their mouths met in an accidental kiss—a faux pas which might have been easily rectified if Jess had apologised immediately and created some distance. Except Rob’s lips were as soft as they looked, and she lingered there a little longer than was probably socially acceptable.
‘Sorry.’ She stepped back when common sense kicked in again. Kissing Rob when all he’d done was be nice to her was a stupid, impulsive move which screamed desperation.
Rob shot out his hand to catch her around the waist and pull her back. She was mid-gasp and flush against him when his mouth came crashing back down on hers.
He stole her breath away as he caught her bottom lip between his and sent her head spinning from the lack of oxygen. She didn’t know where the unexpected display of passion had come from, but she wanted more.
The sensation of butterfly wings on her skin tickled her from head to toe, until every erogenous zone in her body was on high alert. She really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as she was. He was grieving. She was a mess. But this felt so good …

Dear Reader (#ulink_bbafed4d-cbcc-5fd3-973e-91bbd54bf705),
As a mother, I know that feeling of helplessness when my sons suffer any sort of illness or injury. For those whose young children have been struck by cancer it must be even more difficult to stay strong. It’s a devastating disease which affects the whole family.
The research I did for this book taught me a lot about the patients and staff who inhabit the oncology wards. There are some amazing stories of courage and determination out there, along with some truly heartbreaking tales. However, one thing is clear—thanks to the ongoing research carried out in this field, survival rates are higher than ever.
My glamorous heroine, Jessica, is a survivor of childhood leukaemia herself. She’s keen for her documentary to show the amazing work that goes on behind the scenes of cancer treatment, but finds opposition in Rob, a fiercely private oncologist. Behind their successful careers both are grieving losses of their own, but they can’t hide for ever when they’re working together in such an emotional environment.
I loved writing this book, even though the subject matter was so difficult it brought me to tears on more than one occasion. I have nothing but respect for the families and staff who deal with this illness every day. I will be making a donation to my local children’s hospice from the proceeds of this book.
Love,
Karin x
KARIN BAINE lives in Northern Ireland with her husband, two sons, and her out-of-control notebook collection. Her mother and grandmother’s vast collection of books inspired her love of reading and her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author. It wasn’t until she joined her critical group UCW that she started to believe she could actually write—and only her husband’s support enabled her to pursue it. At least now she can tell people she has a proper job! You can follow Karin on Twitter: @karinbaine1 (http://www.twitter.com/karinbaine1).

A Kiss to Change Her Life
Karin Baine


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my bestie, Cathy. I still owe you a Mr G story!
A huge thanks to Charlotte Mursell for working so hard with me on this book. My afternoon with you and Laura McCallen is one I’ll remember for a long time. xx
I also need to give a shout-out to Brian and AJ, who helped me with the technical stuff. Even though I may have taken a few creative liberties with it …

Table of Contents
Cover (#u2f508905-a45c-506b-968a-8cf03a422e15)
Excerpt (#u6927eeae-0c07-50c6-b873-95e89ed93d95)
Dear Reader (#ulink_9fb4c00a-dd7b-52d8-8e86-3e49b18acc06)
About the Author (#u22dc33f0-7a7b-5a96-baae-708cc595e5e2)
Title Page (#u5e56f804-3bca-5be1-a71c-6f0ef0b860a0)
Dedication (#u77245976-92b1-5b1f-be01-e06efc6a8dc8)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_67d628cd-42f0-55d9-b1b9-32f3752c9bd3)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_2fae110b-76df-5a1d-8fb4-0fbd7d03dda1)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_2ae5e174-1da5-53e0-836a-a1d094f2108f)
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)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_d2364538-4b44-501b-a06d-0eeb4df607f8)
THE BANK OF monitors filled with Dr Dreamboat’s handsome profile as he strode past the remote camera in the hospital corridor. Jessica could see why the female members of the production team, and some of the men, had bestowed the nickname upon him. His strong stubbled jawline, wavy dark hair and piercing blue eyes made Rob Campbell perfect eye candy. With the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt bunched at his biceps and his sand-coloured trousers taut across muscled thighs, the guy looked as if he should be playing rugby and smashing into other huge beasts rather than holding hands with poorly children. As the consultant paediatric oncologist at the Belfast Community Children’s Hospital, he was a vital link between the patients, staff and camera crew. It was a shame he’d been so reluctant for the documentary series to go ahead in the first place.
He’d voiced his considerable concern that they were violating his patients’ privacy at the production meetings and it was in the project’s best interest for Jessica to get him on board. Regardless of the hospital board’s decision to allow filming and the crew’s assurances that they would be sympathetic and respectful to all involved, the consultant had treated their presence here with quiet disdain. Jessica hadn’t addressed him directly in the few days they’d been on-site to prepare for filming and instead had focused on building a rapport with the families on the ward. She had the signed consent forms of those willing to participate and didn’t want anything to jeopardise everything she’d worked towards. This meant more to her than ratings and job security.
Cancer had been a huge part of her life; it still was in some ways. Not content to hijack her childhood, it had also tried to dictate her future. The after-effects of her treatment had followed her into adulthood and triggered early menopause. Just as she’d started to recover her femininity, that life-stealing illness had dealt the ultimate blow and made sure she could never be a whole woman.
Well, cancer had taken on the wrong redheaded warrior to tango with. It could take away her fiancé who couldn’t deal with a barren future wife. It could take away the daughter she’d always dreamed of pampering like a little princess. But it couldn’t take away her spirit. Nor anyone else’s if she could possibly help it. If this series brought more funding to the hospital and helped even one child with their fight, it would be worth the pain it caused Jessica to relive her own.
The easiest way to allay Dr Campbell’s fears that they’d trample over anyone in the pursuit of a good story would be to explain she was a survivor of childhood leukaemia herself. It would substantiate her plea that she simply wanted to raise public awareness of the incredible work that went on here. But that would mean exposing her weakness and the last time she’d done that it had cost her everything.
Adam, the man she’d thought she’d spend the rest of her life with, simply hadn’t been able to cope with her health problems and who could blame him? When a man proposed to a vibrant young woman, he didn’t expect to be marrying some prematurely aged, decrepit version of her. Their engagement had ended once Jessica’s failings as a woman had become apparent. The hot flushes, mood swings and childless future had been difficult enough for her to deal with, never mind live alongside.
In tear-filled hindsight, he probably hadn’t been the right man for her. Although he’d been right when he’d told her no man should be expected to take her on now that she was infertile. It would be selfish of her to ask that of anyone, not to mention detrimental to her well-being to imagine it a possibility. She’d only got through her body’s changes and the break-up by accepting her fate as an eternal singleton and moving on. These days, her career was her significant other and these programmes filled that void where a family should be. They were her babies and she cherished every one. Each successful production she made was validation of her worth and all that she needed to fill her life. No man could ever make her feel as good as the awards and accolades bestowed on her for her work to date.
Now, not even an uncooperative oncologist could persuade her to divulge that deeply personal medical information lest it be used against her in some way. She’d worked too hard to put the pain of the past behind her to use it as a bargaining tool.
This was the first day of shooting and Jessica wanted to get it off to the best start possible. She’d done some reading up on Dr Campbell, enough to understand where his passion lay, and it wasn’t a million miles from her own. He was leading the fundraising drive to pay for an MRI scanner for the Children’s Hospital. There was no reason they couldn’t use the airtime to promote the cause and perhaps cultivate a more harmonious relationship at the same time.
With that in mind, Jessica left the busy hub of the mobile production unit situated in the grounds of the hospital car park and went in search of her latest challenge. She’d learned at an early age to meet every obstacle in her path head-on and Rob Campbell was no exception. A liberal application of lip gloss, and a toss of her bouncy auburn curls later, she was ready to make contact with her target. She strode through the hospital entrance with a confidence that wasn’t one hundred per cent genuine.
It was still early morning, the best time to do a recce around the corridors while it was relatively peaceful, quiet except for the sharp tap of her stilettos on the tiled floor. The impending sense of doom which descended as she navigated the maze of corridors had less to do with first-day nerves and everything to do with her residual hospital phobia.
The bright, airy atmosphere of the modern hospital was a far cry from the imposing Victorian building she’d attended for treatment. Instead of dark and imposing corridors, this wing was lined with colourful frescos designed to appeal to the children who attended.
Despite the visual differences and the time she’d had to get used to the surroundings, the glare of fluorescent lights and smell of bleach and antiseptic still took her back to a time when she wasn’t so in control of her own destiny. Her steps faltered as a tide of nausea washed over her and forced a halt to her journey. She leaned against the wall, fighting to regulate her breathing and quell her rebelling stomach.
Inhale. Count to five. Exhale. Try not to puke on your expensive red-soled shoes. Repeat until normal brain function returns.
Jessica pulled off her heels so her stockinged feet rested flat on the cool floor, back on solid ground. This wasn’t about her. She was a visitor this time around, a grown-up replacing that pitiful figure who’d once resided here. When she’d first heard about this opportunity, she’d jumped at the chance to take part, regardless of her personal experience, perhaps even because of it.
Good or bad, hospital life had been a huge part of her childhood. Without the staff who’d looked after her, she would never have made it past adolescence, never mind the ripe old age of twenty-eight. Finally, she was in a position to pay something back. Replacing a husband and two point four kids with an impressive CV and impeccable professional reputation meant she could shine a light on a worthy cause. Nothing was going to stand in the way of that. Not her own personal issues and certainly not a difficult doctor who didn’t know the first thing about her.
The double doors at the end of the corridor swung open and closed as staff walked in and out, giving a quick flash of the elusive consultant in his natural habitat. Every glimpse of Tall-Dark-and-Handsome reminded her how he’d earned his hospital heart-throb status. The nurses were flitting around him like groupies around a rock star and she was sure there were a few hoping to catch his eye for more than professional reasons. She could see why his good looks and high-ranking position seemed to attract every female within a five-mile radius but Jessica’s focus had to remain on her project. There was no time for distractions. Certainly not a sexy, six-foot-plus real-life superhero one.
She gave herself a mental shake and coaxed her mind away from the image of her new work colleague in body-hugging Lycra and tights. Fantasy rarely lived up to reality anyway.
With another deep breath, she drew herself up to her full five feet eight inches and made her way towards him, her shoes still in hand. Since any infection was potentially life-threatening to those on the other side of the doors, she paused only to squirt some hand sanitiser from the dispenser on the wall before she entered the ward.
Dr Campbell was standing at the nurses’ station, his back to her, exuding a don’t-come-any-closer authority without even trying. It took every ounce of her courage to edge closer to him.
‘What do you want?’ He didn’t look up from the charts he was studying as he barked at her. It was the tone a busy and important professional used to fend off time-wasters so that only the bravest souls would persevere with their queries. She used it herself from time to time.
Having seen him in action on the ward from a distance, she knew how tender he could be under different circumstances. Clearly he didn’t intend to make friends with her any time soon. Jessica reminded herself she’d taken on much worse than a doctor with a chip on his shoulder and lived to tell the tale.
‘Hi. I’m Jessica Halliday, a producer for the documentary series currently being filmed. I was hoping we could have a quick chat before filming gets underway.’
‘No can do. I have a full schedule this morning, even if I thought there was any point in speaking to you.’ That gruff Scottish accent could’ve reduced a lesser mortal to a puddle of hormones, or tears. Not this girl. She didn’t do swooning. Although when he did eventually turn around she might have shivered a tiny bit under his blue steel stare.
‘It’s important the viewers see the stories from the staff point of view as well as the patients’. I really think we could both benefit from working together and, as the man in charge, your input means a lot to the show.’ As much as it galled her to sacrifice her pride, she wasn’t averse to using flattery in order to get his approval.
‘I’m sure there are a lot of men who would bend over backwards to keep you happy, Ms Halliday.’ The doctor swept his gaze over her and, to her horror, a tingle of awareness danced across her skin. Male appreciation wasn’t unfamiliar to her when a busy lifestyle ensured she kept her slim figure. However, she wasn’t in the market for an inflexible male, and she didn’t appreciate her body trying to convince her otherwise.
‘I have no interest in reality television. If I did, I’d audition for one of those singers’ got-no-talent shows instead of piggybacking on the misfortunes of the sick for celebrity status. I’ve consented to filming—that doesn’t mean I’ll pretend to be happy about it. These kids are going through enough without having cameras and microphones shoved in their faces. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to see.’ He broke off eye contact and returned to shuffling his paperwork.
The visual dismissal was the human equivalent of being hit with a fly swatter. Thanks to one life-altering break-up, Jessica didn’t take rejection well. Her self-esteem demanded she leave more of an impression than an indistinguishable smudge in his day.
She shot out her hand to still his and demand attention. If she’d imagined him to feel like the cold fish he’d portrayed, the heat burning her fingertips where she touched him told her otherwise. Before she could linger on that thought, he snatched his hand away, frowned and took a step away from her as though she was contagious.
The snub stung like a sunburn in a hot shower. From her expensive clothes habit to her regular beauty treatments, she worked hard to make an impression on people. And to feel good in her own skin. She couldn’t help but take any unwarranted slight against her personally and there was only one way to soothe the burn. With cool, hard facts.
‘I’m sorry you feel that way about what we are trying to do here. For the record, this is not a reality show—it’s a factual documentary series. As we explained before, our intention is to provide an accurate record of the process here and how serious illness affects the lives of everyone involved. I’ll have to interview the staff and patients, so we’ll need to draw up a schedule … I know there’s a disused storeroom we can use for that once it’s cleaned up … It would be great if we can organise a team meeting between my crew and yours every morning to coordinate filming. I hope we can find a way to work together, Dr Campbell, because I would really like to help—’
‘I think you’re under the misapprehension that we’re somehow colleagues. I am not here to make your job easier, but to ensure my patients receive the best care available. For their sake I hope you don’t get in the way of that.’ He swept the files under his arm in one smooth motion and started to walk away before she had a chance to mention the MRI scanner.
As if sensing her mentally swearing at him, the consultant turned back. ‘And please put your shoes on and at least try to be professional here.’
With her livelihood on a collision course with his ego, Jessica hopped across the floor after him, desperately trying to wedge her shoes back on her feet. As the go-to person on these productions, she didn’t normally get flustered. She was the cool one in a crisis. Until now. She put it down to the surroundings rather than being nervous around this particular man.
‘I am trying to be professional, if you would only cooperate.’
He stopped, arched a mocking eyebrow at her as she bobbed about like an inebriated socialite falling out of a nightclub, and walked on. She’d underestimated the strength of his objection and his unease was going to be even more noticeable on camera. She needed to fix this. Fast.
‘I want to help with the fundraising for the MRI scanner.’
That soon stopped him in his tracks and he turned to face her.
‘How?’
It seemed her determination had paid off as she located his Achilles heel. At least now she had an opening for a more civil conversation. She hoped.
‘We can flash up the details of where people can donate on screen during the programme. Do you have a website set up?’
‘Yes, but I suspect you already know that.’ He watched her through narrowed eyes. So much for getting him onside. Now he was looking at her as if she was some kind of stalker.
She shrugged. ‘I make no apologies for doing my research. This comes down to the fact that we can give the cause a boost.’
‘If I play nice?’
‘We appear to have got off on the wrong foot, Doctor. I’m not here to bully people into doing what I want. I’m simply trying to do right by all the families here. The scanner appeal will get a mention whether or not we can get along.’ Jessica could produce a stunning programme in the worst of circumstances but she could do without this, frankly uncalled for, animosity when there were already so many emotional threads tying her to this.
‘Don’t take it personally. I’m very protective of my patients, as I’m sure you can imagine.’
‘Of course. But we’re on the same team here. Why don’t we start again? I’m Jessica.’ She held out her hand and attempted to erase their first frosty introduction.
The Highland Terror began to thaw as he gave her a smile capable of breaking the hearts of every hot-blooded woman in the vicinity. Thankfully, Jessica didn’t let hers make decisions for her any more. These days she kept that vital organ out of her relationships with men and kept everything strictly casual. It was the only defence she had against the pain which would inevitably follow if she got too involved. Short and sweet was the way she ran her love life. That way there was no pressure on her to reveal her unsuitability as a prospective wife and mother further down the line.
‘Rob.’ He clapped his large hand into hers to shake on the proposed truce and startled her. It was probably just as well when her thoughts had turned to flings and relationships at the sight of one sexy smile. This wasn’t the time or place, and he certainly wasn’t her idea of fun.
‘As a producer I’m well versed in getting financial backers on board, so I will definitely see what I can do with regard to your project. I’ve spoken to the director too and, if you and the other trustees are agreeable, we’d like to film some aspects of the fundraising initiatives going on. Perhaps we could get a sound bite from you on the subject at some point?’ Jessica pushed the limits of their newly formed friendship a tad further but she hadn’t got where she was today by playing it safe. Besides, they would probably need some lighter moments to balance out a lot of the difficult emotional subject matter. She’d flicked through enough pictures of the volunteers’ antics on the website to know they had fun along the fundraising trail, regardless of whatever troubles they had at home or on the ward.
‘We’ll see.’ He didn’t commit to doing anything with, or for, her but at least he’d stopped scowling at her. She’d chalk that up as a win.
There was little more Rob could do. He’d made his objections known to the hospital board and the pretty redhead in charge of this madness. From here on in he’d just have to suck it up and put his personal feelings about the media aside.
He’d psyched himself up to do battle this morning over how this circus was going to play out in the department. On the few occasions he’d seen the producer before today she’d been placating the staff with facts and figures on why this would benefit the hospital. The lack of emotion she’d displayed on what was such a heartrending subject for most people had led Rob to peg her as a cross between a stiff in a trouser suit and another overzealous reporter.
Well, Jessica had blasted the first part of his theory out of the water, bursting in here dressed as if she was going to a wedding. Her wedding. A short white lace dress wasn’t the most practical outfit he’d ever seen on the ward. And those shoes—taupe … beige … nude … he wasn’t sure of the technical term—he was sure they would send the health and safety lot into a tailspin. One misstep on those spikes and she’d be heading back out to A&E.
The jury was still out on whether she lived up to his preconceived ideas of media types. It didn’t bode well that she already had a list of demands with no thought to the daily running of the place. Unfortunately, cancer didn’t work to a timetable and it would be down to her to fit in, not the other way around.
Perhaps he had been hasty in making assumptions about her character but he was extra-sensitive on the subject of privacy. And about intrusive investigators who unwittingly made their subjects’ lives hell.
Five years after his wife and daughter had died, he was still trying to come to terms with the car accident and his loss, which had been splashed all over the newspapers. His grief had been compounded by the idea that he’d somehow caused the deaths of his family. If only he hadn’t argued with Leah. If only she hadn’t stormed out of the house in such a temper because of him. If he’d simply gone with her and Mollie in the first place. Then perhaps they would never have crossed paths with a so-called joyrider. Since the other driver had fled the scene, never to be caught, Rob would never know how events had played out, or ever find closure.
He’d been overwhelmed with so much support from friends and family he’d never been able to tell anyone the truth. That he was to blame and he didn’t deserve an ounce of their sympathy. The claustrophobia of his guilt had escalated when the papers had run the story, making him out to be the victim, when he’d known differently. That primal scream had built inside him, ripping him apart in its effort to find release. But he hadn’t been able to confess his role when everyone around him was already suffering so much. Instead, he’d taken the easy route and left everyone, everything, back in Scotland.
Of course it wasn’t Jessica’s fault that he was wary of the press but she’d already proved adept at her research. It wouldn’t take much for her to uncover the tragic tale he’d kept secret since taking up his post here. He couldn’t bear to have the details raked over again, or stand by and watch anyone else be put in a similar situation for the sake of one woman’s career.
Still, she was right about giving the fund some much-needed publicity. As much as it might make him a hypocrite, they were a fair bit away from reaching their two-million-pound target and he would accept any offer of help. No doubt that had played a huge part in getting the families to take part when they were as desperate as he to get a scanner for the department. It would mean quicker diagnosis and treatment, as well as minimising the disruption to the children.
‘By requisitioning the storeroom we’ll have space for parents and staff to speak freely about certain aspects of the treatment without upsetting anyone around them. Can I pencil you in for a spot?’
Give these investigative types an inch and they took a mile every damn time.
‘I have a very busy schedule. Speaking of which, I really need to start my rounds.’ He put the first foot forward to escape Jessica’s interference and check in with his patients so he could discuss their ongoing care later with the rest of the staff. Unfortunately, his new shadow refused to take the hint and teetered behind him in her high heels.
‘I’ll put you down as a yes anyway and you can give us a shout when you have a few minutes to spare. Now, the tech crew are set up on the ward, ready to roll. We thought it would be a good idea to film you talking to our little stars. I’ve already introduced myself but it might make things easier if they see a face they know and trust alongside the cameras.’
Tenacious. That was the word Rob would use to describe her. The most polite one he could think of, at least. It was also how he’d have described his late wife, along with ambitious, stubborn, selfish, irresponsible and terribly missed.
The argument that fateful day had been over what he’d perceived as neglect of their daughter while she chased her dream. Two adults should’ve been able to communicate better, discuss arrangements for childcare. Instead of one parent sneaking off to modelling assignments with a bored four-year-old in tow. If he’d handled the situation differently, been aware of his wife’s struggle with motherhood earlier …
He dodged away from the dark cloud threatening to settle over him, as it always did when he thought of the accident. The years had done nothing to ease the pain of his loss but there was no room for it here. If these kids were able to wear a brave face through everything they were going through, he could too. After all, they’d done nothing to deserve the hand they’d been dealt and he was guilty of orchestrating his own heartache. He should’ve been there for his family when they’d needed him most.
‘So … we’ll make a start, then?’ Jessica verbally prodded him.
‘Yeah. Sure.’ He could at least make preliminary introductions between the patients and the crew. That way he’d be around to make sure Jessica and co. didn’t overstep the mark and upset people. He knew better than anyone who was strong enough to bare their soul to the world and who was too fragile to handle the spotlight. Even with the best will in the world, the sort of attention a personal tragedy brought from the general public could break a person’s spirit. There were only so many pitying looks and sympathy one could take before it became too much to bear. But he had the very family in mind who could keep them all on their toes.
‘Hey, Max.’ As soon as the cameras were ready to roll, Rob perched on the end of his favourite patient’s bed, safe in the knowledge that nothing would faze this particular seven-year-old.
‘You gonna play cars with me?’ Max handed him a red pickup truck from the impressive collection of toy vehicles he had covering the surface of his bed.
‘I’m not staying long this morning. I have to show this lady around the ward, but I’ll come back later on to see you.’ In private.
The demolition derby going on in the centre of the bed came to an abrupt end. ‘She’s gonna put me on TV.’
‘Yes. If that’s what you want.’ Rob waited for the first indication that this was too much even for his resident funny man.
‘Wait!’ Max held his hand up to halt everything and Rob heard the collective gasp of the crew as they held their breath.
‘Is everything all right?’ All he had to do was give the word and this would end now.
‘We can stop for a while if that’s what you need, Max.’ Jessica cut across Rob’s concern with the practical solution of a timeout. Clearly she was used to being the one in charge. So was he.
The monitors were still holding steady as they charted the child’s vitals, indicating that this wasn’t a physiological problem. Max shuffled up the bed and sat straighter.
‘I just want to make sure my hair is okay for the cameras. Us TV stars have to look good for the laydees.’ He slid a hand over his little bald head, then slicked a finger over his non-existent eyebrows.
‘Maximus—’ Rob tried to hide his own smile whilst warning his tiny gladiator about making outsiders feel uncomfortable. Max was too busy rolling on the bed laughing at his own joke to take any notice. A sense of humour was an important part of recovery but sometimes the dark nature of it could take others by surprise.
He half expected to see the efficient producer wide-eyed with horror at one of the chemotherapy-based jokes which flew about here on a daily basis between the kids. Instead, those green-blue eyes were sparkling and her pretty pink lips were curved up into a grin.
‘Don’t worry—you’ll have all the girls falling over themselves to get to you, Max. Perhaps you’d like to say a few words to your future fans?’ She wasn’t the hard-ass he’d taken her for as she played along, regardless of the tight schedule she was probably on too.
With the air of a true pro, Rob’s charge stopped laughing and looked directly into the camera lens. ‘Hi, I’m Max. I’m seven and I like cars and strawberry milkshakes.’
‘Excellent. Although I’m more partial to chocolate ones myself.’ Jessica wasn’t appearing on camera herself but she certainly knew how to get the best from her subjects. She even had good taste in milkshakes.
‘Do you wanna see my central line?’ Max pulled down the front of his hospital gown to show off the long thin tube inserted into his chest used to administer his chemotherapy. He was so matter-of-fact about it there was no room for sympathy or shock. As far as a lot of the children here were concerned, they were sick and this was how they got better. It was as simple as that. The adults, on the other hand, had a much harder time of dealing with it. Max’s parents were at his bedside now, happy to let him play up to the cameras, but it had been a long and tearful journey to get this far.
‘Wow. That’s cool. And can you tell me what it’s for?’ Jessica gently coaxed some more information from her subject. Since Max and his family seemed relaxed with the line of questioning, Rob would stay out of the conversation unless his counsel was needed.
‘The nurses put the medicine in there and sometimes they take blood too.’ The plastic tube apparently held no more fear for him than the toys scattered around him, even though he’d suffered some of the awful side effects from the chemo itself. Rob supposed this was simply part of life for the boy now, as it had become for so many of his patients. It was a scenario no parent wanted for their child but it was better than the alternative. He should know. If he’d had the chance, he would’ve done whatever it took to prolong his own daughter’s life. That was part of the process he doubted these new visitors could ever really understand.
‘You’re a very brave boy, Max. Perhaps Dr Campbell could tell us some more about your condition?’ Jessica directed the camera back to him.
Take a deep breath and think of the scanner.
He glanced over at Mr and Mrs Gardner in case they wanted to have their say first.
‘I’m going to interview other family members later. For now, I’d appreciate your professional input.’ There was no chance of dodging airtime with this eagle-eyed producer on the case. She had all the bases covered and all exits firmly blocked. Rob was back in the spotlight whether he liked it or not.
He cleared his throat. ‘Max has Ewing’s sarcoma of the right tibia. This is a rare form of bone cancer usually found in older adolescent males. You’re just one in a million, buddy, aren’t you?’
Max high-fived him. ‘You better believe it.’
‘He’s responded well to the chemotherapy and is scheduled for surgery to remove the remainder of the tumour.’ Rob was savvy enough to understand that Max’s surgery was probably another reason he would be top of the producer’s wish list, along with his vivacious personality. The drama would be catnip to producers and viewers alike. Rob hoped it would have the happy ending they were all hoping for—complete removal of the tumour and preserving the limb without loss of function. Even then there were no guarantees the cancer wouldn’t return or they’d face an eventual amputation down the line. Fortunately, this job was all about taking one step at a time and so far Max’s treatment was on target.
‘And that’s under the guidance of a multidisciplinary team?’ Jessica’s stealthy research skills again made Rob wonder if they’d yet extended to his personal life.
That familiar churning started in the pit of his stomach, the way it always did when there was a chance he’d have to talk about what had happened with Leah and Mollie. There was no way he was going to be subjected to her questioning or, worse, her pity. ‘Yes, Max’s care plan has been tailor-made for him under the supervision of the surgeons, nurses, pharmacists and all the other health professionals involved in his treatment thus far.’
He shifted off the bed, not giving a damn if it upset camera angles or continuity; they could always edit. As far as this nonsense was concerned, he’d done what was required of him. More importantly, he’d checked Max wasn’t anxious before heading for surgery. ‘If you have any other questions, Maria, the senior nurse, can advise you. I really must get on with my rounds.’
Rob was counting on chatterbox Max to keep the crew busy until he’d seen the rest of his patients in peace.
‘But … but …’ Jessica was tempted to knock him back down on his butt and let her finish this segment. For some reason Dr Campbell seemed intent on sabotaging her at every turn. Just when she thought he was finally coming to terms with their presence here he’d closed up shop again. She was beginning to take it personally when he’d been such a sweetheart to Max.
Rob had switched the minute she’d opened her mouth about the MDT. Perhaps he was territorial and didn’t appreciate anyone questioning his methods here. The truth was, she’d spent so long in and out of the oncology ward herself she was practically an expert in the procedures.
It had taken her a while to get used to seeing all the little kids attached to monitors and drips again and she’d actually welcomed having him to lead her through the ward. Sure, she had her hand-picked tech guys here but she was supposed to be the leader as far as they were concerned. There was such a strong association for her with pain and sickness she’d forgotten that there had been good times too. Max had reminded her that she’d had laughs with some real friends along the way. A few of whom hadn’t made it out the other side of cancer. Rob had absolutely no cause to treat her as some sort of ghoul.
‘Max, I’ll come down later and walk with you to Theatre.’
Why couldn’t he talk to her with the soft-talking Scottish lilt instead of that defensive bark?
‘And maybe we could get that interview on tape while you’re here too?’ For now she could fire ahead with Max and his parents, but if she couldn’t even nail him down for five minutes it was going to be a long couple of months.
‘We’ll see.’ His eyes flashed with blue fire but this wasn’t about him, or even her.
‘Dr Campbell is one of my best friends. He brings me new cars every time I have to stay here.’ Max said his piece on the subject, then resumed making explosion sounds as he caused a four-car pile-up on his bed.
It was a heart-warming statement that managed to smooth out the frown on the handsome doctor’s forehead. ‘You don’t need to suck up, Max. We both know I have a silver Lamborghini with your name on it.’
These two together were cuteness personified. Jessica understood that the staff developed close bonds with the children—she’d become attached to the nurses she’d seen nearly every day—but it was rare for someone of Rob’s status to take such a personal interest. He would probably relate more if he had boys of his own but Jessica knew nothing of his personal circumstances.
He turned his back on her to walk away but that terrier spirit in her wanted his name in her diary before he left. She reached out to stop him. ‘So, we can go ahead and schedule that interview?’
The muscles in his arm bunched beneath her fingers and she had to fight to concentrate. This was a guy who worked out and someone she clearly had explosive chemistry with. Unfortunately, a quick check on his ring finger confirmed he was already taken.
‘Why do I get the impression that not many people say no to you?’ Rob cocked his head to one side as though he was studying some new incurable disease.
Goosebumps rippled over her skin. In her job she was used to being challenged; the thrill of it reminded her she was alive. Although, judging by her quickening pulse, it could be said she was enjoying it too much at present.
‘They do. I simply choose to ignore it.’ Something she was going to have to do about those hottie vibes radiating from her new married opponent.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_13737eb0-e761-564a-96bd-5276866cc6f5)
ROB SWITCHED ON the air conditioning in his car in an attempt to cool the after-effects of his early-morning workout and hot shower. He reckoned the gym was missing a trick with their opening times. A twenty-four-hour haven for members whose shift patterns and insomnia left them with too much time on their hands would make a fortune.
He’d stayed at the hospital until after Max’s surgery, making sure there was a friendly face by his side when he came round from the anaesthetic. Even though he’d been exhausted by the time he’d returned home and fallen into bed, the tiredness hadn’t overridden the all too familiar nightmares. Rob might not have been at the scene of the accident but it didn’t stop him imagining their terror, hearing them call for him before the sickening crunch of the impact.
Sometimes he would even wake from his fitful sleep thinking he could hear Mollie crying from the room next door, a sound which always pulled on his heart-strings like a harp. He’d be out of bed and on his way to tuck her in before he realised his mind had played a cruel trick on him. Thanks to his own stubbornness and a dumb kid in a stolen car, he’d never have a chance to comfort his daughter again.
The first rays of the dawn light often came as a blessing, heralding the start of a new working day where he had plenty to keep his thoughts busy. It was the downtime, such as sitting in this logjam of cars, which let his mind wander towards those things beyond his control.
As he edged forward in the morning traffic, he spotted a familiar figure by the side of the road. Jessica, with her slinky grey silk dress hitched up to her thighs, was running after a bus, barefoot. Rob slowed the car to watch the spectacle. Sure enough, there she was with those ludicrous heels in her hand for a second time. Silver ones today. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had matching shoes for every outfit in her, no doubt, vast wardrobe.
He wound down the window as he tailed her. ‘You should really invest in a pair of flats.’
She slowed to a casual walk although her face was flushed from her exertions and he’d already heard her swear as the bus pulled away. Jessica leaned through the open window and the auburn waves of her hair tumbled over her shoulders. ‘Are you going to sit there sneering all day, or be a gentleman and offer me a lift?’
He opened the door and turned off his MP3 player so he didn’t lose the upper hand here by revealing his love of cheesy pop music. Even though she was the last person he wanted to spend time with, he could hardly leave her stranded when they were going to the same place. Next time he might be inclined to pretend he didn’t see her and save himself from suffocating in her spicy perfume.
‘I didn’t have you down as the type to use public transport,’ he remarked.
The expensive clothes and the matching pearly-pink mani-pedi she was sporting weren’t in keeping with the thick exhaust fumes belching out from the bus in front. No, she’d be more at home in a sports car with the top down, cruising the streets of Monaco or somewhere equally fabulous.
‘I never did get around to taking driving lessons. Besides, the buses run regularly into the city centre from here and I don’t have to worry about finding a parking space. It’s my fault I’m late. I slept in this morning.’ Jessica leaned one hand on his leg to balance herself as she bent down to slip on her shoes. It was such an innocent, yet intimate, act but it burned his skin where she touched him. The rush of blood in his ears drowned out the majority of her chatter—something about missing breakfast—as she squeezed his thigh.
He hadn’t expected to react so … primitively … to being in close quarters with a woman he’d barely spoken to until twenty-four hours ago. It wasn’t as if he’d been a monk all of this time, where one touch from a woman could send him into raptures. He’d had a few flings but he lived by three rules—no one from work, no more than one night and keep things strictly physical. His partners knew the score from the start, so he could walk away without any emotional complications. No one would ever get close enough where he’d have to battle his conscience over replacing Leah in his life.
Jessica was attractive, successful and apparently incredibly tactile. What wasn’t to like? Unless you only engaged in overnight shenanigans and the lady in question was at your place of work for the next four weeks. In other circumstances he might have acted differently, encouraged further exploration of his person, but this would only be asking for trouble. He shuffled in his seat as his body seemed to outgrow his trousers and he was glad when she removed her hand before things became uncomfortable for both of them.
‘I … er … thought you might like to know Max’s surgery was a success. The surgeon managed to remove all traces of the tumour.’ He switched back to the topic guaranteed to draw out her ruthless side and remind him she was a no-go area.
‘I already know, but thanks.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t aware you were still filming him?’ He hadn’t seen any cameras down near the operating theatre and it wasn’t the sort of information the staff would’ve given her over the phone.
‘We weren’t. I got a text from his mum, Maggie, last night. I keep in touch with most of the parents to see how the kids are doing. Not everyone thinks I’m the devil incarnate.’ She was trying to get a rise out of him but she’d managed that with one snippet of information.
He couldn’t believe she was close enough to the families that they included her in their circle of trust. If what she was saying was true, that information on the children’s health wasn’t even gleaned for the benefit of the show. He would have to rethink what he thought he knew about her. His jaded perception of anyone in the media world had meant that he’d thought it impossible for her to be genuinely invested in these kids. To find out otherwise meant he might have to actually start being nice to her. At work.
‘Well, I’m pleased you have such a personal interest in the families but I hope you understand we still can’t have you breezing in and out as you please. We’re not going to hold back treatment to fit in around your schedule.’ The deliberately harsh words were an attempt to establish boundaries in a situation where he was scrabbling for an ounce of control. She was a member of staff by proxy and privileged to have been given access to the ward, after all.
‘I assure you I’m deadly serious about this job. My timekeeping is usually impeccable. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep very well last night and didn’t hear the alarm go off this morning. I’m sure even you’ve overslept on occasion but you have my word it won’t happen again.’ Jessica stiffened in the passenger seat, her hands resting very properly in her lap as she rose above his accusation of complacency.
‘Good.’ Rob jammed the car into fifth gear as they got a free run onto the motorway.
‘Fine.’
An uneasy silence filled the interior of the car as they retreated back to their corners. Rob might have successfully asserted his authority over the crew’s presence in the department, but he’d also ploughed up any groundwork they’d laid for a semi-harmonious working relationship. All because he couldn’t handle being this close to another woman without freaking out about it.
‘Isn’t there someone else who could give you a nudge in the mornings, or give you a lift into work?’ He didn’t know why he was pushing for more information about her home life. Whether she had a partner or still lived at home with her parents was of no consequence to him. Perhaps he was simply hoping there was someone else in her life to take responsibility for getting her to work on time so he didn’t have to.
‘I’m single and rediscovering the joys of independence. How about you?’ There spoke the voice of a bitter break-upee. Someone who probably wasn’t in a hurry to jump back into a relationship of any sort. Not that her love life was of any consequence to him.
He had no desire to get involved in the details of her split, nor did he want to get caught up in an exchange of personal information with a virtual stranger. After a moment he decided to go with ‘Unhappily single’ to describe his current status. He wasn’t alone by choice, and he wasn’t too fond of the other label usually bestowed on him, since it portrayed him as some sort of tragic case.
‘What, no Mrs Campbell to see you off to work in the morning with a kiss and some freshly cut sandwiches?’ The sneer in Jessica’s voice declared her judgement on the sort of woman she imagined married to him. How little she knew. Leah’s free-spirited nature hadn’t been dampened simply because she’d become a wife and mother. If anything, Rob had been the one in the relationship more suited to domesticity. Not that he would admit that to a woman who’d already challenged his authority and coerced him into making concessions for her benefit. A woman not unlike the one he’d lost.
‘Not any more.’ He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to strangle the emotions bubbling up inside him, and put his foot down on the accelerator to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Post shift was the time for wallowing in his grief, certainly not before. It wouldn’t do to cross his personal life with his professional one or he’d end up a complete blubbering mess every time a family reminded him of his. And what purpose would he have in life if he couldn’t even do his job properly?
‘Did she forget to cut your crusts off once too often?’ The throwaway remark came with a snort but the subject was too raw for Rob to find any amusement.
‘She died.’ He didn’t have to turn his head to know he’d left Jessica open-mouthed; those words always had the same effect when he was forced to say them.
Usually he resisted telling people about his personal circumstances for as long as he could. This time, instead of reliving the horror by bringing it up, he found some relief in sharing his secret. It was somehow less painful than he’d imagined. In that brief moment he’d been able to actually be himself and stop pretending he was a man who had it all. As if he’d exhaled the toxins of the past in one deep, cleansing breath.
It was something he should’ve confided a long time ago. He knew Maria and plenty of others were curious about his wedding ring and lack of wife but he’d never been drawn to spill the details. It would only have led to more questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
There was something he recognised of himself in Jessica. Something about her which put him at ease in her company. Something dangerous.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jessica mentally facepalmed as she suffered a bout of foot-in-mouth disease. She would never have made such crass comments if she’d known he was a widower. In truth, she’d only said those things to remind herself that he was out of bounds. Her libido had pinged back to full strength when she’d felt those strong muscular thighs beneath her fingers. Now here she was having hot flashes which were more to do with lusting over a grieving man than her hormones. Mother Nature’s timing was as atrocious as ever.
‘Thanks.’ Rob kept his eyes firmly on the road, leaving Jessica unable to read him. His locked-out arms and firmly set jaw told her she probably wasn’t meant to, but it would be remiss of her not to probe further when he’d volunteered that first revealing nugget.
‘Was your wife Scottish too, or local?’ It was a question Jessica deemed not too intrusive but designed to give her an idea of the timeline involved here. He was still wearing his wedding ring after all. Rob had been at the hospital for a few years, so if he’d met his other half after he’d started his post here it could have been a recent passing. Even Jessica wouldn’t put a newly bereaved doctor in front of the camera if he still had issues to work through. She made a note to quiz Maria Dean, the senior nurse on staff, who, unlike Rob, always seemed happy to talk.
‘Leah was from Edinburgh, same as me.’ The muscle in Rob’s jaw twitched and Jessica could almost hear his teeth grinding together.
A name. An indication that he’d probably come to Northern Ireland after her death. Progress.
‘Do you mind me asking—’
‘Can we drop this, please?’ This time he did look at her, shooting blue laser beams at her and leaving her under no illusion that the subject was a no-go zone for the foreseeable future. Apparently he did mind, cutting her off before she could enquire about what had happened to Leah.
‘Sure. Sorry.’ She was. Sorry she’d got him offside again, sorry he’d lost his wife and, most of all, sorry she’d brought it all back to him.
They spent the rest of the car journey to work in silence, Rob clearly lost in his memories and Jessica unwilling to say anything more in case she upset him further. If circumstances were reversed, she wouldn’t appreciate anyone prying into her past to open old wounds either. Although her ex was still very much alive, it didn’t make reminders of him any less painful. Each time Adam came to mind, he brought thoughts of her own failings with him.
Perhaps Rob was going through something similar, taking the blame for events most probably beyond his control. She’d only recently begun working free of that guilt trap herself. That was why this job meant so much to her. Although she’d ultimately flunked the wife exam, she could still be a success in other areas of her life. It had taken a long time for her to come to terms with that.
It was possible she’d found a kindred spirit who’d also channelled all of his energy into his career rather than risk the heartache of another relationship. The thought comforted her even though the renewed awkwardness between them was palpable, since Rob didn’t seem inclined to even switch the radio on. Jessica didn’t dare defy him any further by doing it herself.
The heavy atmosphere in the car only began to lift when the familiar glass building came into sight. Most likely he was as eager to get to work as she was and check his personal baggage at the hospital door. There was nothing like deadlines and adrenaline to clear the head first thing in the morning.
Jessica unclipped her seat belt and reached for the door handle. ‘Thanks for the lift. I’ll jump out here.’
While Rob waited for the barrier to open at the entrance to the staff car park, Jessica made a swift exit from the vehicle to give him some time out. Maybe if he had some space from her for a few minutes he could forget she’d done the one thing she’d promised not to do. Privacy was his keyword and she’d tried to swerve his to satisfy her own agenda. Since he was the lead here it was going to take an extra effort to convince him she wasn’t Satan’s daughter recording peoples’ suffering for kicks. He was the first man since Adam whom she wanted to know there was a soft heart beneath her crisp, ruthless producer shell.
‘Did I see you arrive with Jessica this morning?’ Maria interrupted Rob’s thoughts as he flicked through his schedule for the day.
‘My good deed for the day. Don’t read anything into it.’ He warned her off before she started her matchmaking mischief again. Ever since coming here he’d had to endure her futile attempts to see him settled down again.
He was sure Maria meant well but he needed a break from awkward dinner dates and disappointment. He didn’t want to forget. Grief, Leah and Mollie were all part of him. He didn’t want to move on and pretend that the best and worst things in his life had never happened. His wife and daughter deserved to be remembered and he deserved to live with the guilt of what had happened for the rest of his life.
Luckily for Maria, he could never get cross with her when she’d been his lifeline in a sea of despair. They’d immediately bonded over their shared devotion to their patients when he’d first started here. He hadn’t told her, or any of his colleagues, about the accident even though it was clear he was on his own. He didn’t want anyone to see him as anything other than a leader of his field. It was in everyone’s best interests that he remained the strong stalwart during the hardships they faced here and not simply another grieving parent. Although it didn’t stop her from setting him up with the nearest available spinster at every given opportunity.
‘Why not? She’s young, single, attractive …’
And definitely not the settling-down type. The ideal woman for a no-emotions-required fling if they were both looking for one. There was just something about Jessica Halliday that set Rob’s Spidey senses on high alert.
‘I don’t dispute the facts but you forgot to mention nosy and incredibly frustrating.’ He’d known her only five minutes and she’d already unearthed more about his personal life than most of his colleagues were privy to. He wasn’t in a hurry to share any more.
‘Ah, she’s got under your skin already.’ Maria nodded with a knowing Rob-baiting smile.
‘Not at all.’ She was most definitely under his skin, to the point of irritation, but he didn’t want Maria encouraging Jessica’s interest, or vice versa. The last thing he needed was another concerned female hell-bent on getting him to dig deep into his emotion bank. That sucker was closed tight, hermetically sealed, weighted down and buried at the bottom of the River Lagan.
‘I had several meetings with her in the lead-up to filming. She’s no wallflower, that’s for sure. Definitely not afraid to voice her opinion or ask difficult questions. Is that what you’re afraid of?’ Maria cocked an eyebrow at him. She knew him too well.
‘I’m not averse to a strong-minded woman, as you very well know.’ He gave her a flirty wink and hoped it was enough to end the conversation.
Instead, Maria rested her hand gently on top of Rob’s in that sympathetic way that always made him want to push her away. He’d moved to Belfast to escape the pity party, not find himself as the guest of honour at another one. ‘Don’t give up on love. The right person is out there for you somewhere.’
Every time Rob heard those words he imagined a saxophone and some electric guitar playing him his very own power ballad. All he needed was a fog machine and a mullet and he’d be the epitome of eighties angst. He’d had the right person and she was gone. Nothing could change that.
Lucky for him he was in a busy hospital ward and not the dingy bedroom of his teenage self, so there was nowhere for him to sit and wail over the girl he’d lost.
Jessica’s head was pounding and her stomach begging for something more substantial than the two headache tablets she’d consumed. She’d missed breakfast this morning and ended up skipping lunch in favour of a particularly fraught meeting with the director over content. He wanted more footage of Rob outside of his hospital role so that viewers were able to relate to him on a personal level as well as a professional one. That was akin to asking her to produce footage of the Loch Ness monster.
On top of that, she wasn’t relishing the turn today’s filming was about to take. It was going to be a tough one for all involved. She’d spoken to the family concerned to ensure they were ready to tell their daughter Lauren’s story on camera and she was aware there would be no happy ending to this tale. Unfortunately, palliative care was part of cancer and it didn’t discriminate against age. The treatment might help to make the patient more comfortable in the short-term but it wouldn’t cure the illness.
Jessica didn’t have to have children of her own to understand how incredibly distressing this would be. The professional producer in her agreed with the director that they had to include light and shade if they were going to chart the reality of the department. Her heart, however, wanted her to avoid any further reminder of cancer’s destructive nature. This was a child, a baby, who’d been denied a second chance at life. In the end, it was the family who’d made the final decision to go ahead. They were keen to highlight Lauren’s condition in the hope that a cure would be found some day. Jessica would simply have to try to remain emotionally detached from the subject. Easier said than done.
She massaged her temples as that heavy pressure seemed to bore down further inside her skull. The smell of coffee and cake hit her as she walked through the entrance hall on her way to meet the camera crew and she saw a few of the parents had set up a stall in the main foyer selling tray bakes and goodies to add to the scanner coffers. There were several tables and chairs dotted around for visitors and staff to take a timeout along with their treats.
Rob was there, talking and laughing with the mums with a box full of home-baked goodies in his hands. He really went above and beyond the call of duty for his patients and their families. The TV business wasn’t exactly a breeding ground for that kind of altruism and Jessica found it refreshing. It was a pity she’d been such a cow to him this morning by prying into his private life. He was a nice guy and it had been a long time since she’d met one of those.
She started towards the stall to offer an apology and try to make amends but her legs wobbled beneath her. A heaviness settled over her entire body and she was helpless as she felt herself falling. Rob rushing towards her was the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her.
‘Jessica?’
Lost in the swirling fog, Jessica could hear someone in the distance calling her name.
‘Jessica?’
She wasn’t ready to leave her peaceful slumber and cuddled further into the warmth surrounding her.
‘Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?’
Jessica frowned. ‘Go away.’
‘I will as soon as we get you back on your feet.’
‘What?’ In her fugue state she swore she could hear Rob whispering in her ear to bring her body back to life.
‘You fainted.’
Her eyes slowly fluttered open to find her dream date only a breath away. She didn’t know what she was doing in his arms but she kind of liked it. His hard chest was pressed tight against her, his large hands splayed across her back so she was cocooned in his spicy musk and muscles.
‘Can you stand on your own?’
Jessica blinked again and tried to focus. It soon became clear that their passionate embrace was more of a clumsy tango as Rob fought to keep her dropping to the floor like a sack of spuds.
‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.’ She pushed against him to free herself from his hold and the embarrassing scene she’d created. The feel of his rounded biceps under her fingertips did nothing to help her equilibrium.
‘Let’s get you into a seat.’ He lessened his grip but stayed with her until he’d deposited her into a chair at the makeshift café.
‘I’m fine,’ she insisted even though her head was still spinning. She hated showing any weakness, especially if it meant relying on a man to rescue her. Until now she’d been standing on her own two feet for some considerable time.
‘I want you to put your head between your legs and take some deep breaths.’
She only complied since he was the doctor and she was apparently having difficulty staying conscious.
Rob rubbed her back as she inhaled. ‘Do you feel dizzy?’
‘A bit.’ Another big breath in and his hand rose and fell with her.
‘When was the last time you had something to eat? I know you missed breakfast and I doubt you’ve sat still long enough for a proper lunch break, have you?’
‘Um … I had a cup of coffee this morning and some headache tablets. I’ve been busy with other things …’
‘That explains it. You can’t survive on a diet of coffee and adrenaline, you know. I understand your need to direct all of your energy into your work but it’s important to stop and refuel every now and then.’
‘Yes, Doctor.’
‘You need something to raise your blood sugar and you definitely need to give yourself a break from these.’ He crouched down in front of her and cradled her foot in his hands as the Cinderella scene played out in reverse.
Thanks to his open top button, Jessica had a nice view down the front of Rob’s shirt. The smooth swarthy skin beneath contrasting against his crisp white shirt was not the usual skin tone of a fair-skinned native. Her feverish mind began to conjure up images of her handsome prince soaking up the rays in a lot less than a tailored shirt and formal black trousers.
She didn’t do romance but she imagined it probably looked a lot like a burly doctor on his knees gently removing a girl’s stilettos. He sat back on his haunches to face her again and reached up to brush the curls from her face. Her whole body tensed as if she was waiting for that one magical kiss that followed the princess’s rescue at the end of every fairy tale.
One of the stallholders interrupted the tender moment to hand Prince Charming a glass of water, her eyes darting between Jessica and Rob as she clearly jumped to conclusions.
He thanked her and proceeded to tangle his free hand in Jessica’s hair again.
‘What are you doing?’ She sprang back in her chair, now fully conscious and aware they weren’t alone in the busy thoroughfare. Goodness knew what people were making of this whole episode but it probably wasn’t anything which would improve her credibility here.
‘You have cream in your hair.’ Rob plucked at another strand to produce chocolatey proof that he wasn’t randomly stroking her hair.
‘Oh. Why?’ This day was getting better and better.
‘You squashed my buns,’ he said with a grin and nodded towards the spot where she’d made her dramatic entrance.
Now cordoned off with safety cones, the area resembled something of a crime scene as efficient cleaners swept away the aftermath of an apparent cake massacre. The broken remains of cupcakes and caramel squares lay in a pool of cream and sprinkles on the floor.
‘I can’t believe you sacrificed cake for me. The actions of a true hero.’ She clutched her hands to her chest in exaggerated appreciation, attempting to deflect attention away from the effect his touch had had on her. The hairs on her arms were still standing on end where he’d made physical contact. Obviously, in all the confusion her body had mistaken him for a potential mate. Her mind was having a harder time dealing with the idea when he represented everything that made her feel weak.
Sitting here, helpless and dependent on his instruction, took her back to a time when every decision about how she lived her life was taken out of her hands by doctors. Rationally, she knew it had all been in her best interests but she’d spent too long fighting for independence to relinquish it so easily now. Even to a doctor who could easily have made it as Mr June in the Hunks calendar currently hanging on her apartment wall.
‘What else is a man to do when a beautiful woman swoons at his feet?’ Rob moved to a standing position so Jessica was forced to strain her neck looking up at him. She ignored the tiny voice in her head squealing at the inadvertent compliment he’d paid her since the conversation between them had turned jovial.
Given their run-ins to date, Jessica doubted she was his type in any shape or form. Rob Campbell was destined to be part of a couple; her fate lay in a completely different direction. There was no point in even thinking there was any kind of entanglement on the cards. So she should really stop wondering if he had any hidden tan lines.
‘I hate to burst your bubble but, as you said, it was probably from lack of food rather than a reaction to your good looks.’ Jessica couldn’t believe she’d actually fainted. She supposed she was burning off more calories than usual with all this toing and froing. In future, she’d keep a few snacks to hand to fend off further embarrassment.
‘I can offer you some sweet tea and a cupcake for now but I’d advise you to eat a proper lunch as soon as you can.’ He left her and took his place in the queue to purchase her temporary cure.
He wanted the best for everyone he treated, her included. At least this mishap had softened his attitude towards her. Even if it had come at the price of her dignity. Rob was sympathetic, passionate, dedicated … everything a woman would want in a long-term partner. It was just as well Jessica didn’t want one or she would be in real danger of falling for him.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_95899f0f-ffe9-57c8-a878-be14162d5a62)
JESSICA NIBBLED AT the slice of chocolate fudge cake and sipped the sweet tea Rob had provided until she started to feel like herself again. The fear of falling into a sugar coma prevented her from finishing it all. Rob had no such qualms and tossed his empty paper plate and cup into the bin.
‘All better?’
‘Yes. Thank you. I should head on over to the ward. I don’t want to keep the O’Neills waiting.’ This job didn’t make allowances for illness or time off for busy producers who forgot to eat. She was responsible for everything that happened in front of, and behind, the screens. The success of the programme ultimately rested on her shoulders and she sure as hell wouldn’t let a hunger-induced dizzy spell hold her back.
The next step on the career ladder was Executive Producer, where she could lead her own production from concept to completion. She wanted the responsibility for selecting and marketing a range of TV shows including dramas and documentaries.
‘Ah, yes. They said you were doing a piece on them. I’ll walk over with you.’
‘There’s no need. I promise we’ll be respectful and sympathetic at all times.’ Her hackles rose at the assumption she couldn’t be sensitive, Jessica got up from her chair ready to march away. Only, the cold tiled floor beneath her bare feet reminded her she had to put her shoes back on before she could do that with any dignity.
‘I’m glad to hear it. However, it’s you I’m thinking about.’
Jessica’s pulse beat a little faster and sent her head spinning again as Rob fixed her under that intense gaze of his. She knew he meant that he was concerned about her fainting spell but there was something inherently sexy in hearing those words. Especially when they were delivered in a spine-tingling Scottish rumble from a handsome doctor.
‘Honestly, there’s no need.’ She was so used to fighting her own battles she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone watch her back. It probably wouldn’t do her any good to get used to the idea when she was here only for a matter of weeks.

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