Impossibly Pregnant. Nicola Marsh

yourself.’

      How did he do that? She’d begun to doubt herself the minute she’d averted their near-kiss and he knew it. Despite her intoxicated ranting over the airwaves last week, he did know his stuff. And wouldn’t he have a field-day if he found out why she’d been so riled about his advice to the overweight teenager that night she’d given him a verbal blast?

      She opened her mouth to respond and he placed a silencing finger against it. ‘And, no, I don’t dish out that remedy to just anyone.’

      ‘That’s reassuring.’ She aimed for brevity but her comment came out sarcastic as she pulled away from him completely, needing to establish physical distance between them to gather her thoughts.

      Rather than pushing her for an explanation for her erratic behaviour—welcoming his attention one minute, freezing him out the next—as she half-expected him to do, he fixed her with a curious stare before turning away.

      ‘As much as I’d like to cure your clumsiness, we’d better get to the station. I need to be on the air in less than an hour.’ He picked up her bag and handed it to her as if nothing had happened. ‘All set?’

      She managed to nod, follow him out and lock up without further mishap. However, amidst her confused state at what had just occurred, one thought penetrated.

      If kisses were part of his cure, she suddenly had a distinct hankering for treatment.