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‘Olivia Emery, right?’ He peered at the papers in front of him.

‘Yes, but most people call me Liv.’

‘First from Imperial College, good strong residencies in some major hospitals — including obstetrics in the Midlands and A&E experience in London, but lacking any real community experience. Any idea why my father recommended you so highly?’ He finally looked up and gaped in shock at the last person he’d expected to see again. ‘It’s you.’

‘Yes.’ The blonde bit her bottom lip, and Callum had to drag his eyes away from the glossy pink mouth.

‘OK then . . .’

‘I’m sorry I’m so late. But I had to stop by the café to deal with my knee, and stockings are so much more difficult to put on when you’re in a cast . . .’

Callum couldn’t help but glance down at the knee he’d wrapped his hand gently around just that morning, now encased in silky black . . . stockings. The word conjured completely inappropriate images, and temporarily short-circuited his brain. He started guiltily when he realised he hadn’t heard a single word she’d said since. He gritted his teeth, forcing his thoughts back on track, frustration making him tense.

‘We’re only a little village surgery, but we do appreciate professionalism and punctuality. If you’re going to be late again, you should call ahead. Patient care is paramount. Even over external . . . concerns.’ He gestured towards her legs, neatly crossed beneath her black suit skirt.

Her mouth hung open for long moments before she visibly swallowed. ‘Understood.’

He pointed to the cast encasing her wrist. ‘And your hand?’

‘I’m fit to practice if that’s what’s worrying you.’ She wriggled her fingers. ‘The cast is due off in a few weeks, but I can manage fine with it.’

‘Good. Then you can start on Monday?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ She flashed him a brittle smile.

Callum groaned inwardly. This was not how he wanted this meeting to go. ‘If you can be here before we start appointments for the day, I can introduce you to the rest of the team, our processes, and we can do a phased start. There’s me, a community midwife and health visitor, two part-time nurses — though one is currently in America for a few weeks, and another GP — though we share his time with the next village over. We’ve got a part-time receptionist as well, though she’s rapidly heading towards retirement.’

‘Got it.’

‘About eight thirty? That will give me and the rest of the team time to get in and set up.’

‘I’ll even try to be on time.’ Her hazel eyes flashed dangerously at Callum.

‘We’ll see you on Monday then.’ Callum hid a wince.

‘Monday.’ She nodded and stood. On reaching the door, she paused and turned. ‘And in answer to your first question? Your father hired me because I’m a bloody good doctor. In any setting.’ With that she stalked out of the surgery, heels snapping angrily against the floor.

Callum stared at the door and swore. He’d let his short temper get the better of him and irritated the doctor who was supposed to be relieving the pressure he was under. He’d nearly choked on his coffee when he’d looked up from his paperwork to discover the stuffy, city doctor his father had hired was actually the stunning blonde whose delicate hand he still felt in his from when he’d literally picked her up from the pavement.

But instead of acting like a normal human being, and asking how her knee was, or whether he could help her settle into the village, he’d snapped at her and insulted her professionalism.

Groaning, he rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel the headache already forming at the thought of working with her every day.

* * *

Liv threw her bag onto the passenger seat and slammed the car door so hard that the window rattled. She slumped down in her seat and tried not to cry. Tom had promised her a warm and friendly welcome, and a peaceful place where she could heal and take time to consider her future. But instead, the man she initially thought so attractive had been abrupt to the point of cold. He hadn’t even acknowledged her explanation for being so late — he just stared at her knee, then lectured her on timekeeping.

It was so different from what she’d imagined and hoped for — and what she so desperately needed — that she struggled to keep the tears from her eyes.

She’d have to email Tom and tell him she couldn’t take the job. Except she didn’t know when he’d likely get online long enough to pick up her email and make alternative arrangements, and she didn’t want to let him down. Plus, she felt like this was her last chance.

For the last year or so she’d been getting more disheartened and distressed by her job. Every day, the busy A&E she worked in seemed to attract more stress and violence, and she was exhausted at the thought of having to deal with more stabbings, shootings and road accidents. She’d started to think that all she saw most days was the worst side of people. More and more frequently she’d found herself fighting back tears of anger, frustration or just plain sadness at what she’d seen that day.

And then that man had attacked her. Her side ached, and the cast weighed heavy on her arm, giving her unnecessary reminders of the horrors of that last night shift.

The thought of going back to work in places like that made her blood run cold. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let Tom down. She had to find a way to make this work. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go.

Groaning, she rested her head on the steering wheel and tried not to think about how she would handle her new grumpy colleague with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. At least now, when he’d been such an arse, she wouldn’t have to worry about any residual feelings of attraction she might have felt in her moment of vulnerability. She wasn’t interested in anyone right now, and especially not an arrogant pencil pusher more interested in timekeeping than the health of a little boy. How the hell that man could call himself a doctor she didn’t know.