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mapped out, and I know exactly where I’m going. OK, I didn’t get this job, but I’ll get the next one that comes along, or the one after that—I’m determined to succeed, and I can’t afford the luxury of anything that could get in the way of that ambition.’

      He was watching her, and she kept her eyes averted in case he read the miserable truth.

      That doesn’t sound like you,’ he said at last. ‘OK, you dress the part, and you act the part to a certain extent, and I don’t doubt that you’re a damn fine doctor, but there’s more to you than that, Jo. You’re lonely, and, whatever you might say to the contrary, you’re interested. At least be honest with me.’

      Oh, God, she thought, honest is the last thing I can be with you. She fought off the wave of sadness and made herself meet his eye.

      ‘All right, Alex, I’ll be honest with you,’ she lied. ‘Yes, I’m interested—physically. Sexually we’re great together, and I’m interested in you as a person. That doesn’t mean that I want to try and establish a relationship with you—especially not one that’s going to interfere with my career progression. And yes, I’m lonely, but it’s what I’ve chosen, Alex. Look at me!’ She spread her arms wide. ‘I know how I look—I’m not a fool. If I wanted a man I could have one, but I don’t. If you weren’t my boss, then I dare say we could have a great affair, but as things stand it’s out of the question, and, the sooner you realise that, the better for both of us.’

      He was silent for a long while, and she risked a quick glance at him. His mouth was tight, his chin propped on his steepled fingers, and his eyes as they met hers were cold. She realised she had hurt him with her deliberately crude and harsh assessment of their relationship, and somehow that was worse than anything else. Then he rose to his feet and walked over to the window. His hands were rammed in his pockets and the tension was pouring off him.

      ‘So that’s it, is it? Your final word?’

      ‘That’s right. It’s the way it has to be, Alex. I’m sorry.’

      He snorted. ‘Spare me the platitudes.’ He swivelled round to face her, his eyes hard and unyielding.

      ‘Either you’re lying, or you really are a hard-bitten career doctor with a hyperactive sex drive. Either way, you’re not the woman I thought you were.’

      Shock held her rigid. She stared at the spot where his feet had been, and listened as he walked down the hall and let himself quietly out of the front door.

      So that was the end of that. At least she had stopped him in his tracks, but it hurt her that she had had to lose his respect in order to do so.

      Jo got wearily to her feet and cleared away the cups, then washed the dishes in the sink and tidied up the kitchen.

      She was just putting the last few things away when Anne came home.

      ‘Hi,’ she said with forced cheer. ‘Thanks for tidying up—how’s Beth been?’

      ‘Fine—how did it go?’

      Jo took one look at her friend’s ravaged face and held out her arms.

      ‘Oh, Annie …’

      Anne collapsed into her arms and sobbed out her misery while Jo soothed and patted and held her until she was finished, then she handed her a wodge of tissues and steered her to the kitchen table.

      ‘Tell,’ she said firmly.

      ‘Oh, he was very upset, and I cried, and it was awful, but I couldn’t have married him. It wouldn’t have been fair, and I think he saw that in the end.’ She sniffed and blew her nose. ‘He wants us to be friends. I said no. Do you think that was too unkind?’

      ‘No.’ Jo shook her head emphatically. ‘No, you can’t be friends when one of you’s in love and the other isn’t. It would be a disaster for both of you.’

      Anne sighed. That’s what I thought, but I still felt awful saying it. So, how about you? How did you get on with Alex? Did he make a pass at you?’

      Jo flushed and looked away. ‘Not exactly, but he made it quite clear he’d be happy to take up where we left off.’

      Anne chewed her lip thoughtfully, then covered Jo’s hand with her own.

      ‘Why don’t you tell him?’

      Jo snatched her hand away and stood up. ‘No—I—I can’t! He’ll only feel guilty, and it isn’t his fault——’

      ‘Any more than it’s yours.’

      ‘It’s my body!’

      ‘That doesn’t make it your fault. Are you using it as an excuse?’

      ‘For what? Not sleeping with him again? We’re talking about sex here, Anne!’

      Her friend regarded her steadily. ‘Are we? It strikes me you’ve never got over him.’

      ‘Damn it, Annie, there was nothing to get over—one night!’

      Anne’s face twisted with pain. ‘A great deal can happen in one night,’ she said quietly, ‘as you well know.’

      Jo sagged against the table. ‘OK, OK, I never really got over him. But for him it’s just sex——’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      Jo stood up impatiently and strode across the room. ‘Don’t be silly! He’s a man—men feel differently about these things. Anyway, it’s not a problem any more. I told him I was a career doctor——’

      ‘You?’

      She glared at Anne. ‘Yes, me! Don’t laugh. Anyway, he wasn’t impressed. He told me I wasn’t the woman he thought I was, and walked out. I think I dented his ego, and fair’s fair—he dented mine.’

      ‘Are you angry with him about getting the job?’

      She shrugged. ‘A bit. He watched me operate this afternoon and told me he couldn’t have done it better himself. As that was just what I’ve been trying to tell people, it was really the last thing I wanted to hear!’

      Anne chuckled. ‘He’s going to have to watch himself around you, isn’t he? Poor man won’t be able to breathe without being snapped at.’

      ‘I’m sure the poor man will cope,’ she said bitterly.

      ‘You really do hate him, don’t you?’

      Jo’s mouth trembled and she bit her lip. ‘No, I don’t hate him. All I’m asking is to be left alone.’ She picked up her bag, slipped on her shoes and headed for the door.

      ‘See you on Monday,’ she said heavily, and let herself out.

      The drive home was short but she found it hard to concentrate. She kept seeing Alex’s face, and hearing his voice telling her she wasn’t the person he thought she was.

      She turned into her little drive and locked her car, then let herself into the tiny semi-detached cottage that had been her home for three and a half years.

      She locked up and headed straight for the stairs. She couldn’t be bothered to make herself a hot drink tonight. All she wanted was the oblivion of sleep, but it wouldn’t come.

      She lay on her back in the bed and her hands slid slowly down the smooth, taut line of her abdomen and over the hollow of her pelvis.

      There, running from side to side in the crease above her pubic bone, and almost hidden by the dense tangle of soft auburn curls, was the faint ridge of the scar.

      It had faded in four years, but it would never go, and it would take a gynaecologist all of two seconds to assess the possible significance and start asking questions.

      He must never get that close to her, and the only way she could ensure that he didn’t was to keep him severely at a distance. It seemed likely that she had achieved that aim particularly effectively, she

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