The Playboy of Harley Street. Anne Fraser

      The Playboy of

      Harley Street

      Anne Fraser

      

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Copyright

      CHAPTER ONE

      KATIE SIMPSON looked around the luxury interior of the private jet and wanted to pinch herself. Dr Cavendish, the senior partner at the practice, had told her at her interview that she’d be expected to fly all over the world, but he hadn’t said anything about private jets.

      Katie jiggled her legs impatiently. Where was Dr Lineham? They had boarded the small plane ten minutes ago and there was no sign of her colleague. Opposite her, their patient was playing a game on her games console, looking completely unfazed by her surroundings.

      Lucy Hargreaves was eight years old and suffering from cystic fibrosis. Katie and Dr Lineham were accompanying her to Monaco so that she could watch her father, a British racing champion, in a prestigious racing tournament.

      Katie swivelled round in her seat at the sound of footsteps clattering up the aluminium steps.

      Dr Lineham at last—and not before time. For the second time that day, Katie was taken aback. Instead of the older man she’d envisaged, Dr Lineham was lean, with thick, tousled dark hair that curled over his collar, olive skin, high cheekbones and a wide, full mouth. His tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway as he paused to finish adjusting his tie and do up the top button of his shirt. He looked more like a film star than a doctor.

      ‘Damn London traffic,’ he muttered, before coming forward. He stopped next to Lucy and ruffled her hair. ‘Hi, Luce. You okay?’

      Lucy glanced up, her eyes crinkled in a smile. ‘Hey, Dr Fabio. Where’ve you been? Late night out again?’

      Fabio held a finger to his lips and pretended to frown. ‘Luce, don’t give away my secrets. For all you know, I’ve been in the hospital all night.’

      He winked at the little girl and she giggled.

      Oh, please, Katie thought. Couldn’t he at least pretend to be more professional?

      Deep green eyes swept over Katie. She was aware of him taking in her dark suit and sensible shoes and shifted uncomfortably under his appraising look. She hadn’t known what to wear so had settled on the same outfit she had worn to her interview. Not that Dr Lineham had been there. Apparently he’d been away with a patient in Mauritius or some other exotic island.

      ‘And is this our new physio, Lucy?’ His voice was as smooth as warm chocolate with just a trace of an accent Katie didn’t recognise.

      ‘She says I can call her Katie,’ Lucy replied. ‘She’s been here for ages already. She knows how to play games on my console. I think she’s cool.’

      ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Dr Lineham,’ Katie responded, trying to keep the disapproval from her voice. Despite being told at her interview that the practice was friendly and informal, it had been emphasised that all the staff took their duty towards their patients seriously. Katie expected nothing less, but now she wondered if one of her colleagues didn’t share that ethos. Imagine coming directly to work after being out all night! What was he thinking? He should have left home earlier if he didn’t want to be late. Like she had. An hour and a half before she’d had to, and if it had meant she’d had to hang around the airport for quite a while, at least she’d been on time.

      And didn’t Dr Lineham need to check Lucy over or something? Katie was far from reassured by his casual approach. Between them, they had total responsibility for their patient.

      Dr Lineham held out his hand and as Katie shook it, she was aware of the hardness of his skin, which didn’t quite fit with his groomed exterior. ‘And I am pleased to meet you too, Katie Simpson, but, please, call me Fabio.’

      The way he said her name in an accent she still couldn’t quite place sent an unexpected frisson up her spine.

      ‘You have to strap yourself in,’ Lucy reminded Katie, as Fabio settled himself into the seat opposite. ‘Just for take-off.’

      Lucy was pale and underweight for her age but with a wisdom in her indigo-coloured eyes that belied her years. Dr Cavendish, the senior partner, had briefed Katie the day before about the little girl’s condition.

      ‘Her CF is under control most of the time, but unfortunately she has had one or two bad chest infections and there is some scarring.’

      ‘Should she be travelling?’ Katie had asked.

      ‘It makes her happy. And after all the trip is only for two days and as long as she gets regular physio and Fabio is there with her, there’s no reason to think she won’t be absolutely fine. Our clinic is set up so that we can allow our patients to carry on with their normal lives as much as possible.

      ‘For those patients that can manage it, naturally we see them at the practice, otherwise we attend them in their own homes or wherever they may be. Sometimes a patient may need us to travel with them and we do that too. We aim to be as flexible as possible.

      ‘Mrs Hargreaves—Amelia—wouldn’t be letting Lucy go if she didn’t have medical support for her and absolute faith in us,’ Dr Cavendish continued. ‘Dr Lineham has been looking after Lucy for the last two years—a year before he joined us—and her parents have complete and justified confidence in him.’ He smiled. ‘Lucy has never seen her father race—at least, not apart from on television—so she’s adamant she wants to go. As you’ll learn, she’s quite a determined child.’

      As the plane gathered speed for take-off,