The Celebrity Doctor's Proposal (6 page)

Anna felt her taste buds react with enthusiasm. ‘I've heard good things about that place.' She tilted her head to one side and considered. ‘And the only price is being civil to you for the duration?'

‘Who said anything about being civil?' He lifted the bottle to his lips and drained the beer. ‘Just be yourself.'

She glared at him. ‘I'm civil with most people, McKenna. It's just you that drives me nuts.'

‘And why is that, I wonder?' He put the bottle on the table and surveyed her, his eyes gleaming with
speculation. ‘Perhaps you're harbouring secret fantasies.'

‘The heat must have gone to your brain.'

He lounged against the table, broad-shouldered and unreasonably handsome. ‘Face it, Riggs. You have trouble resisting me. And that really annoys you.'

‘You're the one who annoys me. And it's worse when I'm hungry. So let's get going before I commit bodily harm. You won't look so handsome with a black eye and no teeth.'

He reached for his car keys. ‘In the interests of personal safety, I'll drive.'

She followed him to the curving gravel driveway and paused, a frown on her face as she looked at his sleek black car. ‘You expect me to sit beside you in that sex machine?'

‘Well, it's that or the boot, honey, because there's no room in the back. This is definitely a two-seater.'

She sighed and slid into the car, too hungry to argue. ‘OK, but only because my stomach is more important to me than my reputation at this particular moment in time.'

She was starving.

He turned the key, started the engine and smiled. ‘Don't you just love that sound?'

‘It's an engine.'

He shot her a pitying look. ‘No appreciation for the finer things in life, that's your problem.' He hit the accelerator, sending gravel flying. ‘And what
does sitting in my car have to do with your reputation?'

‘If I'm seen with you then people will automatically think I'm a bimbo.' She scooped her hair out of her eyes and held it firmly at the back of her neck as he picked up speed and headed for the coast road. ‘But to sample the lobster at that new restaurant, I'm willing to take the risk. And don't call me honey. I draw the line at that, even when I'm starving.'

 

The restaurant was heaving but the manager took one look at Sam and found them a secluded table overlooking the sea.

‘Never miss one of your programmes. Love the way you make complicated medical stuff easy to understand. Pleasure to have you back, Sam.' The manager handed him a menu. ‘And dining with our Dr Riggs. That's cosy.'

‘Convenient, not cosy.' Anna shot him a pointed look and took the other menu. She didn't want gossip in the village. ‘This is just business. We have things to talk about, we both have to eat and we both wanted to try your new place, Ken. It's that simple.'

‘Well, the first drink is on the house. I'll treat you to a couple of glasses of champagne.' He snapped his fingers, gestured to a waiter and then turned back to the two of them. ‘Been meaning to come and talk to your dad, actually, Sam. Something on my mind, to be honest.'

‘Stop by any time,' Sam said easily, leaning back
in his chair and closing the menu. ‘I'm covering all Dad's surgeries now. Be glad to catch up with you.'

Ken nodded. ‘I think I'll do that. Thanks.' At that moment one of the waiters arrived with two brimming glasses of champagne and Ken stepped to one side, giving Anna a quick wink. ‘Have a nice evening, both of you.'

Anna watched him go and then lifted her champagne. ‘Why was he winking at me? Has he developed a problem with his eye? And why all this man-to-man stuff about seeing you in the surgery? He could have come to see me.'

‘There are some things a man can't discuss with a woman.'

‘That's rubbish.' She swallowed a mouthful of champagne and moaned with appreciation. ‘Ooh, that's fantastic. And, McKenna, I can deal with everything you can deal with. Probably more.'

‘You know as well as I do that there are some things a woman prefers a woman doctor for. It's the same for men.'

Anna took another sip and felt her head swim. She put the glass down on the table and decided to wait for the food before drinking any more. Otherwise she'd be tipsy and she needed her wits about her to cope with Sam. ‘That's why I always end up with the women's problems. Because you guys avoid them like the plague.'

‘That's nonsense.' His tone was calm and he broke off to deliver their order to the waiter. Anna stared
at him as the waiter left to give their order to the kitchen.

‘I'm perfectly capable of reading a menu and using my voice. And for your information, I don't have any trouble with decision-making. I can pick my own food. If I concentrate I can even use a knife and fork.'

‘We both want to try the seafood.' He spoke with exaggerated patience. ‘I ordered seafood. Relax, will you?'

Despite her resolve, Anna reached for the champagne again. She couldn't relax around Sam. It just wasn't possible. ‘You were trying to pretend that you don't avoid women's problems.'

‘I certainly don't. In fact, it's an area that we cover frequently on the programme, as you'd know if you ever bothered to watch it.'

‘I get enough of you in real life.'

He leaned forward, his blue eyes fixed on her face. ‘It's a fact that lots of women prefer to see a female doctor for some things, and it's the same with male patients. If Ken wants to see me, you shouldn't be defensive about that.'

‘I'm not being defensive.'

Damn. She wished she hadn't drunk all that champagne so quickly. She definitely should have waited for the food.

Fortunately it arrived quickly, huge platefuls of seafood with hot garlic butter and baskets of freshly baked bread.

‘Oh, this looks fantastic,' Anna muttered, reaching
for a langoustine and stripping it quickly. ‘Great idea, McKenna. Beats omelette.'

‘There were no eggs,' he reminded her. ‘Omelette was never an option.'

‘That's right.' She grabbed a napkin before the buttery juices could slide down her chin. ‘No eggs. So someone needs to go shopping. I'll grab a few things tomorrow on my way home.'

He scooped another langoustine onto her plate. ‘Are you offering to shop, Riggs? Something wrong?'

‘I don't mind the shopping. It's the cooking I can't stand. And tonight I'm feeling mellow. Blame the alcohol and the food.'

‘You really know how to make a guy feel good.'

‘You don't need me to make you feel good. You already feel far too good about yourself. It would be much easier for the rest of us mortals if you'd let a little bit of self-doubt creep in. You need to lose some of those female fans and realise that you're human, like the rest of us.'

He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Do you suffer from self-doubt?'

She paused with a langoustine halfway to her mouth and then dropped it back on her plate. ‘Yes. Of course I do. You try joining an established practice run by our respective parents. No matter how many times I prove myself, I'm still the child. I'm not capable of having an idea worth listening to.'

And it rankled. She knew she was a good doctor. She had ideas of her own. Ideas that she wanted to
develop for the good of her patients. For the good of the whole practice.

Wondering why on earth she was telling him this when it wasn't something she ever voiced to anyone, she scowled and reached for her glass. Then she changed her mind and lifted her water instead. It was probably the alcohol that was making her so garrulous.

‘Yes, I can imagine it must be hard. Dad hasn't let you make any changes, has he?' Sam wiped his fingers on a napkin. ‘He can be a stubborn old guy when he wants to be. I'm amazed you haven't walked out before now. Spread your wings.'

‘I feel a responsibility to give something back to this place. And I love your dad and I love the practice,' Anna said softly, turning her head and staring out across the sea. The sun had dipped behind the cliffs and streaks of scarlet shot across the sky, casting lights on the waves. On their table a candle flickered and a vase of sweet peas scented the air. For some reason Anna felt a lump building in her throat. ‘And this is my home. I'd never want to work anywhere else. I don't know how you can bear London. Don't you miss it here?'

‘Yes, of course I miss it.' His tone was equally soft and his eyes were locked on hers. ‘It's my home every bit as much as it's your home. Yes, I miss it. But this place didn't give me what I needed.'

‘And what was that?'

He stared into the candle, watching the breeze toy with the flame. ‘Space to make my own discoveries.
Freedom to make my own mistakes.' He shrugged and reached for his glass. ‘I didn't want to just move into something that my father had built. That was his dream and I suppose I needed to follow my own dream. I needed something different.'

‘Bright lights and adulation.'

He looked at her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. ‘You really don't think what I do rates very highly, do you?'

‘You truly want to know what I think?'

‘Just this once, yes, I'll risk it.' He put the glass down and sat back in his chair, eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me what you think, Riggs.'

She took a deep breath. ‘I think you're an extremely talented doctor who's wasting those talents. You could be making a real difference to people's lives. Saving lives. You did it this morning. Don't you miss that, Sam? That feeling of having really helped someone?'

His gaze didn't shift from hers. ‘You don't think I help people?'

She shrugged, wishing that he'd look at his plate or his food. There was something about those killer blue eyes that she found more than a little disconcerting. ‘I can see the job is glamorous.'

He leaned forward. ‘In the last six months we've had dozens of letters from people whose lives have been changed by things they've seen on the programme. My programme. Sometimes it's life-saving stuff, Riggs. First-aid tips that come in useful. People remember them if they've seen them on television.
And they use them. Sometimes it's something far less dramatic but no less important. We tackle subjects that some people find too embarrassing to discuss with their own doctors. And sometimes that gives them the courage to see their own doctors and sort out a problem that's limiting their lives. We make a difference.'

Anna stared at him. ‘You're pretty passionate about it.'

‘Very. I think it's a very useful method of patient education. These days patients want to be informed. They need to be informed.'

‘That's all very well…' Anna picked at a piece of bread ‘…but from where I'm sitting there's nothing more irritating than a patient coming into the surgery clutching a magazine announcing the arrival of another wonder drug.'

‘I'm not saying that all media reporting of health stories is good,' Sam said. ‘I'm just saying that you shouldn't dismiss it. Watch my programme. Tell me that what we're doing in the surgery wouldn't make good summer viewing. There's a lot people could learn from us.'

‘Well, I agree that the wasp message is a useful one,' Anna conceded, and Sam nodded.

‘And what we need to do now is a piece talking about first aid for anaphylactic shock, how to recognise and deal with it. Remind people with known allergies to carry adrenaline.'

‘I still think that the cameras will put patients off coming.'

‘It won't put them off,' Sam predicted. ‘It will attract them like magnets. Trust me on that one. You'd be amazed at the number of people who are only too delighted to air their health problems on national TV.'

He sat across from her, talking easily, making her laugh with outrageous stories, and when she finally looked at her watch she was astonished to find it was past midnight.

‘Look at the time! I've got a pile of reading to do before I go to bed.'

He yawned and finished his coffee. ‘Forget the reading for once. Have a night off.'

‘I like to stay up to date and stuck down here in Cornwall in a two-man practice, I never get to conferences.'

He looked at her. ‘Reading. Conferences. What about parties? Nights on the town? Don't you ever have doubts about devoting your life to medicine?'

She frowned and tilted her head to one side, her silken dark hair sliding over her shoulder and brushing the table. ‘I'm not devoting my life. I'm twenty eight, not a hundred. This is just my focus for now. Not for ever.'

‘Precisely. You're twenty-eight. You should have a sex life.'

She straightened her shoulders. ‘My sex life is none of your business, McKenna, but just in case you haven't scrutinised the electoral role lately, I ought to warn you that there's a shortage of single, eligible
men in this village. And I don't sleep with my patients.'

‘Then spread your net wider.'

Her frown deepened. ‘I'm quite happy as I am, for now. My plan is to carry on until I feel I've really grasped the job. Then maybe it'll be time for more personal stuff.'

‘Anna the planner.' He lifted his glass and drained it, his eyes glittering slightly in the flickering candlelight. ‘And what if fate intervenes? What if Mr Right arrives before you've scheduled him in to your life plan?'

She grinned airily. ‘I'll probably be too busy reading my journals to notice him.' She waved a hand at Ken who was hovering at a nearby table, chatting to the diners. ‘We're off, Ken. You'd better charge us for this feast while we're still sober enough to pay.'

Sam reached into his wallet for his credit card and Anna frowned. ‘What's that for?'

‘Well, unless you intend to spend the rest of the night in the kitchens, washing up, I was planning to pay.'

‘You're not paying for me. We'll go halves.'