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hate this,’ Marco admitted. ‘I’m used to doing things. Not just sitting here. And your gym is pure torture. All the things I want to use and can’t.’

      ‘Patience,’ Ethan counselled.

      Marco just scowled at him.

      ‘Let’s have a look at your hand.’ Ethan inspected it, then smiled. ‘Good news, Zorro. You get to meet your physio tomorrow morning.’

      ‘So I can start exercising my hand?’

      ‘You do,’ Ethan said, ‘everything she tells you. And no more than that.’

      ‘Or I’m risking permanent damage. Yeah, yeah. You’ve already told me.’ Marco took a deep breath. Damn. He was being rude again, and the doctor meant well. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘Frustration. It gets all of us at some point. Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow, Zorro.’

      ‘Hasta luego, Clavo.’ Marco sketched a salute with his right hand, and both men laughed wryly.

      Becca was still thinking about what Lexi had told her about her new patient. Prince Charming. Ha. She’d met men like him before. The last time she’d made the mistake of falling for charm she’d learned the lesson well. In a way, she supposed that Seb had done her a favour. He’d left her at a crossroads. One way had led back to addiction, trying to wash away the pain with vodka—making her mother’s mistakes all over again. The other way led to working hard and making the best future she could—for herself, because Becca knew that she was the only one she could really rely on.

      She’d made the right choice, and she wasn’t going back.

      Ethan had said that the Prince was bored. So no doubt he’d be super-charming to her, wanting a distraction from his situation. Fine. He could be as charming as he liked. She’d be sweet and charming back, for the sake of the clinic. But she’d also make very sure that there was a professional distance between them, because she had no intention of being the Prince’s personal distraction.

      The next morning couldn’t come fast enough for Marco’s liking. Even though he knew that ‘morning’ could mean technically anything from one second after midnight until one second to noon.

      At last Ethan strolled in to Marco’s room followed by a woman in a white coat.

      ‘Zorro, I’ve got someone you’re dying to meet.’ He smiled. ‘Becca, I’d like you to meet—’

      The woman in the white coat stepped to the side and stared at Marco. ‘Seb,’ she cut in, her voice a hoarse whisper, and all the colour drained from her face.

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