but I suppose that was inevitable. Are you married? Well, of course youâre married, the truly gorgeous ones always are. Oh, well, my loss, handsome.â
Christian stilled and Lara held her breath, wondering if he was going to finally lose his cool and say something cutting. Or perhaps heâd produce a picture of his stunning wife and Ellen would spend the rest of Christmas feeling nauseated with jealousy. And it would be no more than she deserved for being so pushy. Just because the guy looked like a sex god, it didnât mean he had to be harassed.
But Christian said nothing. In fact, the only suggestion that heâd even heard the question was the faint flicker of a muscle in his jaw. He lowered his head, scribbled something onto the chart and placed it with the rest of the notes. âThe cardiologist is on his way down,â he said evenly, as if he hadnât just been propositioned by a patient. âHeâs an excellent doctor and heâll be more than happy to answer all the questions you have about your condition. Staff Nurse King? Nice job.â Hestudied her for a moment longer than was necessary. âItâs your half-day, isnât it? You should have gone home an hour ago.â
How did he know it was her half-day?
Astonished, Lara watched as he strode out of the room with a firm, confident stride.
He was Christian, the consultant. Christian, the doctor.
He never allowed the smallest glimpse of Christian, the man.
Which was probably why she hadnât bothered looking for flaws.
CHAPTER TWO
âA RE you excited, Daddy? Are you?â
Christian glanced down into the shining eyes of his seven-year-old daughter. Excited? âIâm extremely pleased that youâre so happy,â he drawled softly, and she slid her hand into his.
â Iâm excited. This is the best day of my life. Will it be our turn soon? Will it? Weâve been waiting for ages . Do you think Father Christmas too busy to see us? Are we going to have to come back another time?â Aggie was wearing a bright pink coat with matching gloves and her whole face was a smile as she chattered non-stop. The sound of a choir singing Christmas carols blared and crackled through loudspeakers and the dull ache in Christianâs head threatened to turn into a ghastly throb.
The morning had been hideously busy, and prising himself away from the department for a few hours had proved even harder than heâd anticipated.
âHeâs not too busy to see you, but there are lots of children waiting.â He reached out with his free hand and gently stroked her blonde curls while he glanced along the queue, looking to see if he could track down one of the âfairiesâ employed to occupy the children with small toys and sweets while they were waiting. He glanced at his older daughter, who was gazing into space. âYouâre quiet, Chloe. Are you all right?â
She sent him a quick smile. âIâm fine, Daddy. Thanks.â
He looked at her, trying to work out the immediate problem. And there was a problem, he knew there was. He gritted his teeth. Until heâd had daughters, heâd thought heâd known a lot about women. âIs twelve too old to be seeing Father Christmas?â
Was he supposed to know these things?
Colour seeped into her cheeks. âItâs fine, Daddy.â
âShe has to see Father Christmas,â Aggie announced,hopping from one leg to the other, âotherwise how is he ever going to know what she wants more than anything in the world?â
Chloeâs eyes slid to her sister. âFather Christmas canât give you everything you want. He isnât a miracle worker.â
âYes, he is. Try asking and see.â
Had he ever been that innocent or that optimistic?
Wondering whether it was age or life that had turned him into a cynic, Christian studied his eldest daughterâs tense profile. She stood quietly in the queue, a