All She Wants For Christmas. Annie Claydon

      ‘Must be. They say we were lucky to get him. Some hotshot surgeon from one of the London Centres of Excellence.’ Marcie slipped back into speech now that the man was through the swing doors and safely out of earshot. ‘Quite a catch all round in my opinion.’

      Beth felt her colour rise and gestured a ‘so-so’ with her hand, her fingers trembling slightly at the audacity of the understatement. ‘Nice eyes.’

      ‘And the rest,’ Marcie retorted. ‘If it’d been me on the end of that smile he gave you, I’d be on the phone right now, telling James that it was all over.’

      ‘You’d do no such thing!’

      ‘Okay, so I’m all talk. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, though.’ Marcie’s grin turned calculating. ‘If he’s new in town he probably won’t know anyone. Do you think I should ask him to our Christmas party? If you’re passing Cardiology, you could pop in and deliver the invitation. Just a nice, friendly welcome, eh?’

      ‘Why would I do that? It’s your party.’ Beth assumed a look of injured innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a child. Anyone with a pulse would have noticed that smile.

      Marcie signed her frustration. ‘Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with parties. You get to know people. Remember dating?’

      Beth made a face, turning the corners of her mouth down. ‘I remember your party last year. If that’s what dating entails, I think I’ll pass.’

      ‘Ah, Pete. The man who put the x into excruciating. Anyone who thinks that my Christmas party is the right place for business networking and not slow-dancing with his fiancée …’ Marcie stopped and bit her lip. ‘I should have taken him out and shot him.’

      A mental picture of Marcie, in a fabulous dress and killer heels, marching Pete out into the night with a shotgun came to Beth’s rescue and she grinned. ‘Would have saved him the trouble of working up that list of reasons for dumping me, anyway.’

      ‘There was only one reason, and that one stank. Along with his timing.’

      ‘At least he gave me ten days to work out what my New Year’s resolutions were going to be. And in case you’re wondering, they’re going to be the same for next year. Stand on my own two feet and forget about dating for good.’ A stranger’s smile was no reason to abandon the two mantras that had stood her in such good stead for the last year.

      ‘Just because Pete turned out to be a complete toad, doesn’t mean that there aren’t any nice guys out there.’ Marcie’s eyes softened. ‘James, for instance.’

      ‘James is married. In case you hadn’t noticed.’

      ‘Well, he wasn’t when I met him.’

      Beth chuckled. ‘And you rectified that omission as soon as humanly possible.’ She jerked her thumb in the direction that the tall, blond-haired stranger had taken. ‘I’ll bet you anything you like he’s married, too.’

      Marcie’s gaze followed the direction of Beth’s gesture. ‘What makes you think that? Apart from the fact that you’re hoping he might be because then you don’t have to think about the possibility that he might be available.’

      ‘He’s got kids. No one without kids wears a scarf with a school name tag on it.’

      Marcie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Okay, Sherlock, you win.’ She rummaged in her bag for a bunch of keys and unlocked the door to the audiology and hearing therapy unit. ‘I’ll ask him anyway. If he doesn’t bring a wife along, you owe me coffee for a month.’

      If Beth had decided not to go anywhere near Cardiology, fate, in the shape of a six-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes, seemed to have other ideas. She had found him wandering alone in the corridor outside the hearing therapy unit, dirt on his hands and the knees of his jeans and close to tears. After a halting start, a little gentle persuasion got the whole story out of him.

      ‘So your dad works here?’ Beth had bathed his hands and was dabbing them dry. ‘What’s his name, Jack?’

      Jack’s tears were forgotten now and he looked up at her proudly. ‘He’s a doctor and he works in the cardiology department—that means hearts.’ Beth nodded, looking impressed. ‘His name is Matt Sutherland.’

      Beth’s eyes skittered to the dark blue cashmere scarf that Jack had been wearing, which had struck her as slightly unsuitable for a child. ‘All right, then, Jack, I’m just going to make a phone call and find out where your dad is right now and then we can go and find him together.’

      The thought that he was married with a child gave Beth the perfect reason to ignore the thrill that accompanied any thought of the disturbingly attractive Dr Sutherland. A call to his secretary elicited his whereabouts and Beth got Jack back into his coat, gripping the boy’s hand tightly all the way down to Outpatients. The receptionist nodded her through, indicating that Dr Sutherland was currently alone and pointing to the small consulting room that was his for the afternoon.

      Beth stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. This was stupid. Just knock.

      ‘Should I do our special secret-code knock?’ Jack was looking up at her seriously.

      ‘Do what, Jack?’

      ‘Our secret code. So Dad knows it’s me. He knocks back with his secret code and I know it’s him.’

      The temptation was almost irresistible, but the new head of cardiology was unlikely to live that one down in a hurry. Beth pulled her face straight. ‘No, probably not. You don’t want everyone to know it, do you?’

      Before Jack could answer she raised her hand to tap on the door. As she did so, it flew open and her knuckles almost hit solid flesh instead of wood. Snatching her hand away, Beth caught his cool, clean scent as Matt Sutherland started backwards.

      Only Jack seemed undeterred by the abrupt introduction. ‘Hi, Dad.’

      This close, he seemed taller. And without his jacket, the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled up, he looked broader as well. ‘Dr Sutherland?’ Jack’s reaction had pretty much established that, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that was even vaguely appropriate.

      ‘Yes … Yeah, I’m Matt, Jack’s father. What’s he doing here?’ He was standing stock still, blocking the doorway, one hand on Jack’s shoulder.

      ‘Beth Travers. Can we come in?’

      ‘Sorry … Yes, of course.’ His eyes flipped rapidly over the empty waiting room behind them and he stepped back, motioning Beth over to a chair. Jack slid past him and ran to the revolving chair that sat behind the desk.

      ‘Is this your chair, Dad?’

      ‘Yes. Want to try it out?’ He was watching Beth as Jack climbed into the chair, his expression dispassionate.

      ‘I found Jack wandering on his own, outside Hearing Therapy. He told me that his day-care lady was knocked over by a car and that he’d been brought here with her in the ambulance.’

      ‘What?’ Matt spun round towards his son. ‘Are you all right, Jack?’

      Jack was ignoring him in favour of the contents of his desk.

      ‘He wasn’t hit by the car, but he fell over when his carer pushed him out of the way and there’s a graze on his hand.’ Beth kept her voice even, reassuring. ‘He hasn’t complained of any pain and doesn’t seem dizzy or disorientated.’

      The shock in his eyes had subsided and Matt was nodding to her as if he were taking a patient’s history from a colleague. ‘Thank you. Will you stay a moment, while I take a look at him?’ He didn’t wait for an answer and Beth supposed it was an instruction rather than an invitation.

      He dropped on one knee in front of the boy, swivelling the chair around to face him. Without being asked, Jack pulled Beth’s