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of yours.’

      It wasn’t really hers and it wasn’t much of an extravaganza, but it was something to talk about over their meal. Greg chuckled when she told him about the plan for carol singers, dressed up as characters from Dickens, and loved the idea for storytellers in the children’s wards.

      ‘That’s a great idea. Aren’t you going to go through to the general wards as well?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ Jess shrugged. ‘I didn’t really think of doing that.’

      ‘Adults love to be read to as well. There’s evidence to suggest that it’s beneficial for stroke patients. I imagine that a good storyteller could capture a lot of interest with the elderly as well.’

      ‘Hmm. Yeah, worth thinking about.’ She should have known that Greg would be able to add something to the value of the project.

      ‘So what else?’

      ‘As it’s the hospital’s two hundredth anniversary this year, we’re going to do a small exhibition in the main foyer. How things were then. There are loads of old documents in the basement, and I was thinking of making a model of the building.’ He was giving her the same look that everyone gave her when she got to this bit. ‘It’s not as crazy as it sounds. It’s going to be done properly, I’m not thinking of just gluing a couple of empty cereal packets together. It’ll be 1:87 scale, like the model trains.’

      ‘Trains?’

      Jess rolled her eyes. ‘What is it about men and model trains? Yes, trains if you like, the railway ran past the hospital then as well. Only I can’t find anyone who’s got any trains.’

      ‘I’ll give someone a ring. One of my father’s associates in America. She has a talent for getting anything you can think of.’

      ‘We don’t have a budget… ’

      He swept her objections away with a wave of his hand. ‘That’s okay. No budget needed. Pat has a talent for that as well.’

      Jess eyed him suspiciously, but he didn’t look as if he was going to come up with any further explanations. And she wasn’t in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth. ‘Thanks. That would be great.’ In for a penny… ‘And the model?’

      His lips twisted into a smile. ‘Yeah, okay. I’ll sort that out too.’ He put his fork down onto his empty plate with a clatter. ‘Anything else?’

      ‘No, I think that’s enough to keep you busy. Or… Pat, was it?’

      He grinned. Perhaps she had been a little too transparent. ‘Yeah, Pat. I’ve known her since I was five years old. She was going to retire this year but I convinced her to stay on for a little while, to help me sort out my father’s estate.’

      ‘Oh. Good idea.’ Jess wasn’t even going to admit to herself that she would have been jealous if Pat had turned out to be a leggy blonde. Or, more exactly, a leggy blonde in her twenties. ‘Was it very complicated, then?’

      ‘Yes.’ The sudden flatness of his tone said that Greg had divulged as much as he was going to on the subject. ‘Did you enjoy your food?’

      ‘Very much. You have a great apartment, too.’

      He looked around, as if he hadn’t noticed. ‘Glad you like it.’

      What wasn’t to like? Greg didn’t live ostentatiously, but all his furniture matched and it screamed quality. And that was before you counted the large, top-floor living space, the tall windows and the amazing view.

      ‘You moved in here recently?’ This kind of apartment was far beyond the reach of a doctor’s salary. He must have inherited the money from his father.

      ‘No.’ He laughed at her surprise. ‘I had a trust fund. By the time it matured, it was enough for this place.’

      Jess almost choked on the last mouthful from her plate. Greg obviously came from a very different background from hers. ‘That sounds… useful.’

      He leaned towards her. ‘The last time I saw you look that disapproving was when Ray Harris ended up as a patient in his own ambulance.’

      ‘That was my professional face.’

      ‘No, it wasn’t. You looked as sour as a bowl of lemons.’ He was teasing her now.

      ‘Well, it was a bit much. Ray was just trying to help—the guy didn’t need to take a swing at him. How hard do you have to hit someone to break their cheekbone?’

      ‘Hard. And you were a model of restraint. I couldn’t have done better myself.’ He chuckled.

      ‘Of course you couldn’t. I was there, remember? I saw what you did to that drinks machine.’

      ‘It wasn’t working. I pressed the button and got hot water all over my feet.’

      ‘You didn’t press it, you punched it.’

      They were both laughing now. This was almost unbearable. The highs and lows, the humour, the camaraderie, all of it free of the framework of hospital rules and common sense, which had kept their relationship on a professional footing. There was nothing to protect her now.

      ‘So what’s so bad about having a trust fund, then?’ He was still grinning.

      Jess shrugged. ‘Thought I was off the hook with that one.’

      ‘You’re not on any hook. I’m just interested.’

      ‘I’ve just never known anyone with a trust fund. Does it make a difference? To the way you look at things, I mean.’

      He threaded his fingers together. Long fingers. She already knew that Greg had a sensitive touch. ‘I had to work just as hard as everyone else at med school. Lived in the same sorts of digs. It matured when I was thirty and by that time I’d already earned what I really wanted out of life. I imagine that was just as my father intended.’

      ‘He sounds like an astute man.’

      Something flickered in his eyes and then died. She was evidently not about to hear any of Greg’s thoughts on his father. He rose and collected the empty plates from the table. ‘Go and sit down. I’ll make some coffee.’

      ‘I’ll help you with the dishes.’ Jess made to get up.

      ‘My guests don’t do washing up.’ He grinned at her protest. ‘Neither do I. I’m just going to stack these in the dishwasher.’

      Right. Of course he was. Jess shook her head at her own lack of sophistication and obediently descended the three steps that divided the dining area from the living space, sitting down on one of the butter-smooth, leather sofas.

      He was back in ten minutes, along with a tray, laden with coffee and after-dinner sweets. ‘This is nice. Really nice. Thank you.’ He was more than just a good cook, he was a good host. Everything was in the right place, at the right time. And Jess was pretty sure that the music playing softly in the background had been chosen with her own favourite tracks in mind.

      ‘Thank you.’ He seemed about to ask something and then hesitated.

      ‘I can only say no.’ Jess might not have the sophistication that Greg had, but she could read between the lines.

      ‘Nah. You won’t do that.’ He settled back in his seat, the soft leather easing with him.

      ‘I might. You think you can just charm me into anything?’ He probably could, but letting him know that would be a bad move right now.

      He thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t.’ He let the compliment, if that’s what it was, sink in. ‘Unfortunately.’

      ‘Why unfortunately?’

      ‘Because some things are a lot easier when you have a friend around.’

      All right. He’d got her now. After that, she couldn’t say no.

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