A Kiss To Change Her Life. Karin Baine

soon. Jessica reminded herself she’d taken on much worse than a doctor with a chip on his shoulder and lived to tell the tale.

      ‘Hi. I’m Jessica Halliday, a producer for the documentary series currently being filmed. I was hoping we could have a quick chat before filming gets underway.’

      ‘No can do. I have a full schedule this morning, even if I thought there was any point in speaking to you.’ That gruff Scottish accent could’ve reduced a lesser mortal to a puddle of hormones, or tears. Not this girl. She didn’t do swooning. Although when he did eventually turn around she might have shivered a tiny bit under his blue steel stare.

      ‘It’s important the viewers see the stories from the staff point of view as well as the patients’. I really think we could both benefit from working together and, as the man in charge, your input means a lot to the show.’ As much as it galled her to sacrifice her pride, she wasn’t averse to using flattery in order to get his approval.

      ‘I’m sure there are a lot of men who would bend over backwards to keep you happy, Ms Halliday.’ The doctor swept his gaze over her and, to her horror, a tingle of awareness danced across her skin. Male appreciation wasn’t unfamiliar to her when a busy lifestyle ensured she kept her slim figure. However, she wasn’t in the market for an inflexible male, and she didn’t appreciate her body trying to convince her otherwise.

      ‘I have no interest in reality television. If I did, I’d audition for one of those singers’ got-no-talent shows instead of piggybacking on the misfortunes of the sick for celebrity status. I’ve consented to filming—that doesn’t mean I’ll pretend to be happy about it. These kids are going through enough without having cameras and microphones shoved in their faces. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to see.’ He broke off eye contact and returned to shuffling his paperwork.

      The visual dismissal was the human equivalent of being hit with a fly swatter. Thanks to one life-altering break-up, Jessica didn’t take rejection well. Her self-esteem demanded she leave more of an impression than an indistinguishable smudge in his day.

      She shot out her hand to still his and demand attention. If she’d imagined him to feel like the cold fish he’d portrayed, the heat burning her fingertips where she touched him told her otherwise. Before she could linger on that thought, he snatched his hand away, frowned and took a step away from her as though she was contagious.

      The snub stung like a sunburn in a hot shower. From her expensive clothes habit to her regular beauty treatments, she worked hard to make an impression on people. And to feel good in her own skin. She couldn’t help but take any unwarranted slight against her personally and there was only one way to soothe the burn. With cool, hard facts.

      ‘I’m sorry you feel that way about what we are trying to do here. For the record, this is not a reality show—it’s a factual documentary series. As we explained before, our intention is to provide an accurate record of the process here and how serious illness affects the lives of everyone involved. I’ll have to interview the staff and patients, so we’ll need to draw up a schedule … I know there’s a disused storeroom we can use for that once it’s cleaned up … It would be great if we can organise a team meeting between my crew and yours every morning to coordinate filming. I hope we can find a way to work together, Dr Campbell, because I would really like to help—’

      ‘I think you’re under the misapprehension that we’re somehow colleagues. I am not here to make your job easier, but to ensure my patients receive the best care available. For their sake I hope you don’t get in the way of that.’ He swept the files under his arm in one smooth motion and started to walk away before she had a chance to mention the MRI scanner.

      As if sensing her mentally swearing at him, the consultant turned back. ‘And please put your shoes on and at least try to be professional here.’

      With her livelihood on a collision course with his ego, Jessica hopped across the floor after him, desperately trying to wedge her shoes back on her feet. As the go-to person on these productions, she didn’t normally get flustered. She was the cool one in a crisis. Until now. She put it down to the surroundings rather than being nervous around this particular man.

      ‘I am trying to be professional, if you would only cooperate.’

      He stopped, arched a mocking eyebrow at her as she bobbed about like an inebriated socialite falling out of a nightclub, and walked on. She’d underestimated the strength of his objection and his unease was going to be even more noticeable on camera. She needed to fix this. Fast.

      ‘I want to help with the fundraising for the MRI scanner.’

      That soon stopped him in his tracks and he turned to face her.

      ‘How?’

      It seemed her determination had paid off as she located his Achilles heel. At least now she had an opening for a more civil conversation. She hoped.

      ‘We can flash up the details of where people can donate on screen during the programme. Do you have a website set up?’

      ‘Yes, but I suspect you already know that.’ He watched her through narrowed eyes. So much for getting him onside. Now he was looking at her as if she was some kind of stalker.

      She shrugged. ‘I make no apologies for doing my research. This comes down to the fact that we can give the cause a boost.’

      ‘If I play nice?’

      ‘We appear to have got off on the wrong foot, Doctor. I’m not here to bully people into doing what I want. I’m simply trying to do right by all the families here. The scanner appeal will get a mention whether or not we can get along.’ Jessica could produce a stunning programme in the worst of circumstances but she could do without this, frankly uncalled for, animosity when there were already so many emotional threads tying her to this.

      ‘Don’t take it personally. I’m very protective of my patients, as I’m sure you can imagine.’

      ‘Of course. But we’re on the same team here. Why don’t we start again? I’m Jessica.’ She held out her hand and attempted to erase their first frosty introduction.

      The Highland Terror began to thaw as he gave her a smile capable of breaking the hearts of every hot-blooded woman in the vicinity. Thankfully, Jessica didn’t let hers make decisions for her any more. These days she kept that vital organ out of her relationships with men and kept everything strictly casual. It was the only defence she had against the pain which would inevitably follow if she got too involved. Short and sweet was the way she ran her love life. That way there was no pressure on her to reveal her unsuitability as a prospective wife and mother further down the line.

      ‘Rob.’ He clapped his large hand into hers to shake on the proposed truce and startled her. It was probably just as well when her thoughts had turned to flings and relationships at the sight of one sexy smile. This wasn’t the time or place, and he certainly wasn’t her idea of fun.

      ‘As a producer I’m well versed in getting financial backers on board, so I will definitely see what I can do with regard to your project. I’ve spoken to the director too and, if you and the other trustees are agreeable, we’d like to film some aspects of the fundraising initiatives going on. Perhaps we could get a sound bite from you on the subject at some point?’ Jessica pushed the limits of their newly formed friendship a tad further but she hadn’t got where she was today by playing it safe. Besides, they would probably need some lighter moments to balance out a lot of the difficult emotional subject matter. She’d flicked through enough pictures of the volunteers’ antics on the website to know they had fun along the fundraising trail, regardless of whatever troubles they had at home or on the ward.

      ‘We’ll see.’ He didn’t commit to doing anything with, or for, her but at least he’d stopped scowling at her. She’d chalk that up as a win.

      There was little more Rob could do. He’d made his objections known to the hospital board and the pretty redhead in charge of this madness. From here on in he’d just have to suck it up and put his personal feelings about the media aside.

      He’d