‘I’m sure we can handle it, Joanna, the same as we’ve handled the past few weeks.’ He shrugged, aiming for an air of nonchalance and obviously succeeding when she didn’t disagree. He hurried on, taking advantage of her receptive mood.
‘We’re both adults and we both know the score. We can’t get involved with one another so we just have to get on with the job. That’s it, basically.’
Joanna managed not to betray any emotion but Dylan’s calm assessment of the situation had made it sound as though he no longer cared that they could only ever be colleagues. Had he got over his attraction to her, then? Was that why they had managed so well to maintain a professional front throughout the past few weeks?
Her mind raced back over what had happened since they’d had breakfast together that January morning. Apart from that minor hiccup a few weeks ago when she’d been jealous about him talking to Sarah Rothwell, they had managed to keep things on a very even keel—so even, in fact, that it smacked of indifference rather than self-control. Could it be because Dylan had found someone else, another woman to occupy his thoughts, perhaps?
Her heart said no, it wasn’t possible, but the calm way he was looking at her said that it was true. He had got over his crush on her and saw her now as just another colleague. It should have been reassuring to realise that, but it hurt too much to know that another woman had replaced her in his affections to derive any satisfaction from it.
‘Then there’s no need for us to worry, is there?’ She summoned a smile as she jotted some notes on a memo slip, desperate not to make a fool of herself by breaking down. ‘This is the date of the conference. It’s the first weekend in April and we’ll be in Paris from the Friday afternoon until Monday lunchtime. Diane is due back at work that week so she will keep everything ticking over in our absence.’
She passed him the memo as he came over to her desk. ‘Brian will let you have all the details about our hotel, etc., but you may need to let people know that you’ll be away that weekend.’
‘Thanks.’ He glanced at the paper and she wondered if it was her imagination that his hands seemed to be trembling.
She chased away that fanciful notion as he went back to the door because it was ridiculous. Dylan was perfectly happy with the arrangements and didn’t feel it would be a problem to go to Paris with her, so that was the end of the matter. Once he had told those people in his life who mattered what was happening it would be fine.
The thought of exactly who Dylan might need to tell about the forthcoming trip, however, wouldn’t go away for the rest of the day. Despite how busy she was, Joanna thought about it almost continuously. She went home that night and set to work on the paper she would present at the conference as soon as she’d finished dinner but it was difficult to remember all the salient points she wanted to make when she kept trying to picture the woman who had captured Dylan’s heart.
Was she blonde or brunette, tall or short, plump or slim? Where had he met her and how soon after they’d breakfasted together had he started dating her?
Joanna chewed the end of her pen as the questions ran through her head. Was she older than him or younger? Probably younger, she decided with a sinking heart, because most men preferred to date women who were younger than themselves.
That thought was even more disheartening. She got up and went to the window so she could look out across the rooftops of London. She had achieved all her dreams yet as she stood there, staring at the city, she couldn’t help wishing that she’d met Dylan when she’d been starting out on her career. The outcome might have been very, very different if she had.
Charles de Gaulle airport was on high alert because of recent terrorist activities. Consequently, they were delayed while their luggage was searched by Customs.
Dylan unzipped his suit carrier then glanced over at Joanna who was at the neighbouring desk. She was busily repacking her case now that it had been checked and didn’t appear to notice him looking at her although maybe that was just a cover. She’d been so very distant towards him in the past few weeks that he knew it had been deliberate even though he had no idea what he’d done to warrant such treatment. They’d seemed to be getting on so well before the trip to Paris had been mentioned, but he had noticed a marked change in her attitude towards him ever since then and the situation had gone from bad to worse that day.
Joanna had barely said a dozen words to him on the flight from Heathrow, making it clear that she hadn’t wanted to chat by working on the paper she intended to present the following day. If she’d hung a placard round her neck with the words ‘Don’t Touch!’ printed on it she couldn’t have made her feelings any more clear, he thought wryly, yet why was she behaving this way? Was she worried in case he tried to make a play for her once they arrived on foreign soil?
Dylan’s mouth thinned as he swung the suit carrier over his shoulder. He had never forced his attentions on a woman and he didn’t intend to start doing so now! He waited until Joanna had finished repacking her bag then took her arm and briskly steered her out of the customs area, pausing only when they came to a quiet spot close to the restrooms.
‘I think we need to get a few things straight before we go any further.’ He didn’t attempt to keep the bite out of his voice and he saw her head tilt back as though she was preparing for a fight. A thin smile curled his mouth because if she wanted to make an issue out of this then he was more than happy to oblige.
‘I see.’
‘No, I don’t think you do see. That’s the problem. I have no intention of forcing myself on you if that’s what is worrying you, Joanna.’ He laughed scathingly, wishing he didn’t feel like such a louse when she paled. He didn’t want to fight with her or hurt her—heaven forbid, it was the last thing he wanted to do! Nevertheless, he had to make it clear that she—and her virtue—were perfectly safe.
‘It may surprise to you to learn that I have never, ever needed to use force with a woman.’
‘I’m sure you haven’t, Dr Archer. I’m sure that most women are only too happy to comply with your requests.’
Her head tilted back that bit further until she was positively staring down her elegant nose at him. However, Dylan had seen the hurt that had clouded her grey eyes and knew that his words had hit home far harder than he’d intended them to. He was suddenly torn by the need to apologise to her and at the same time make sure she understood that she was in no danger, but she didn’t give him the chance to do either.
‘Now, although this conversation is all very interesting, it would be far better if we made our way to our hotel and checked in. The welcome meeting is scheduled for two-thirty and we’ll need to register beforehand.’ Her delicate brows arched. ‘Would you care to find us a taxi or shall I do it?’
‘It’s already arranged,’ he explained shortly, turning to lead the way to the exit. ‘I booked a taxi to meet us here and take us to our hotel.’
‘Oh. Right. I see. Th-thank you.’
The quaver in her voice caught him unawares because it was the first hint of weakness she’d betrayed in weeks. Dylan felt his anger melt away when he saw how uncertain she looked all of a sudden. Had it all been an act? he wondered. Was she really as indifferent to him as she’d pretended to be?
His spirits lifted even though he had nothing on which to base that assumption. The thought that Joanna might have been fighting her feelings by keeping him at arm’s length cast a whole new light on the situation. He took a deep breath as they made their way across the arrivals hall. If nothing else happened this weekend he was going to find out how Joanna really felt about him…one way or the other.
‘Merci.’
Joanna handed the taxi driver her case and got into the back of the cab. Dylan was making sure the driver knew where they were staying and it gave her a few precious moments to gather her composure.
The past few weeks had been such a strain. Keeping Dylan at a distance should have been easy enough, but it had proved far more difficult than she’d anticipated when
each time she saw him she suffered an actual physical reaction. Leaping hearts and pounding pulses might be all well and good in a romance novel but they played havoc when one was trying to focus on lifesaving surgery. She’d felt completely wrung out each night after she’d left work and the fact that she’d had to face a repeat the following day had made life even more difficult. It made her wonder once again how she was going to get through this weekend. All she could do was to try and remember that Dylan was no longer interested in her and hope that it would help.
‘The driver says it should take roughly half an hour to get to the hotel,’ Dylan informed her as he climbed into the cab and slammed the door.
‘Fine.’ Joanna checked her watch, making herself think solely about their schedule. ‘That will give us another half an hour to check in and get to the conference centre.’
‘Thank heavens it’s next to the hotel,’ Dylan sighed, sinking back into the seat as the cab set off.
Joanna shot him a careful look from under her lashes and frowned when she realised how tired he looked. He looked as though he, too, had suffered a few sleepless nights of late.
Her heart plummeted because there was only one reason she could think of why Dylan might not have had enough sleep of late, and she didn’t want to go there. No way! However, now the thought had entered her head it was impossible to chase it away.
Had he spent those nights with the new woman in his life?
Her stomach churned at the thought of him making love to another woman. It was so painful that she could hardly bear it, but she had to face up to the facts. Dylan was free to sleep with whoever he chose and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
Silence fell inside the cab as it whizzed them into the centre of Paris. The traffic was a nightmare and she closed her eyes as they circled the Arc de Triomphe. If there was a system about who had priority then it certainly wasn’t apparent. She was deeply relieved when the cab drew up outside their hotel and she could get out. She lifted her case out of the boot while Dylan dealt with the fare and made her way into the hotel. A bellboy took her bag then ushered her to the reception desk where she checked in. By the time she was handed a key to her room Dylan had arrived at the desk, but she paused only long enough to tell him that she would meet him back in the foyer in fifteen minutes’ time before she hurried away. She may as well start the weekend as she meant to go on.
Her room was airy and spacious, the double-glazed windows affording her a wonderful view across the Champs Élysées to the River Seine. At any other time Joanna would have been delighted with her accommodation but it did little to lift her downbeat mood. Leaving her case on the stand to unpack later, she went into the bathroom and tidied her hair before setting off to the foyer to meet Dylan. She was just closing her bedroom door when the door to the adjoining room opened and Dylan appeared.
‘Seems we’re next to each other,’ he remarked, tucking the key card into his suit pocket.
‘Um…yes.’ Joanna dredged up a sickly smile as she set off along the corridor as though pursued by demons. She could hear the sound of Dylan’s footsteps following her and felt her throat close up with a sudden attack of nerves.
Why hadn’t she given any thought to the fact that they might have adjoining bedrooms? If she’d been more on the ball she would have made a point of asking for a room on a different floor. Now the thought of lying in bed, knowing that Dylan was sleeping on the other side the wall, made her feel all hot and bothered, and it was just so ridiculous to let it upset her so much that she groaned out loud.
‘Joanna? Are you all right?’
Dylan stopped her by dint of a hand on her arm and Joanna took a deep breath. She had to stop this and she had to stop it now, otherwise the next few days would be a living hell. If Dylan could cope with the situation then she could, too. She had to. It was as simple as that.
‘I was just trying to remember if I’d brought all the conference bumph with me.’ She opened her shoulder-bag and made a great production out of checking the wad of papers that had been sent by the conference organisers. ‘They’ve made a big to-do about the fact that we need to have all the proper paperwork with us, otherwise we won’t be allowed into the hall.’
‘Looks as though it’s all there from what I can see, but if you want to check then I can always run back and fetch anything you’ve forgotten.’
His kindness was almost her undoing and she had to blink hard to clear away the foolish tears that filled her eyes. ‘No, I’m sure I’ve got everything I need. Anyway, you can always vouch for me if there’s a problem, can’t you?’
‘Of course. I’d be happy to.’
There was an undercurrent in his voice which she might not have noticed if she hadn’t been so attuned to him. Joanna felt a tremor work its way along her limbs until it reached the very centre of her chest where it turned into a glow of heat. She took a shaky breath but there was no way that she could keep the emotion out of her own voice no matter how hard she tried. ‘Thank you.’
Dylan didn’t say anything so she had no idea if he’d noticed her reaction or not. However, it was a relief when they carried on and reached the lifts. They stepped inside and Dylan pressed the button for the ground floor then smiled in delight as he glanced over his shoulder.
‘Wow! What a fantastic view.’
Joanna looked round and suddenly realised that one wall of the lift was made entirely of glass. Through it she could see Paris laid out before her as they descended—the Grand Palais, the Eiffel Tower, the beautiful old buildings with their steep roofs and garrets. It was a beautiful day and the whole scene was backdropped by a clear blue sky, making her gasp with pleasure.
‘That is so beautiful!’
‘Isn’t it just? Think we’ll have time to do some sightseeing?’
‘I hope so,’ she replied without thinking then felt her heart lurch when she realised how dangerous it would be to wander the streets of Paris with Dylan.
She turned round when the lift came to a halt as they reached the foyer, fighting against the pictures that were gathering in her mind. She mustn’t think about them walking hand in hand beside the Seine, stopping to kiss under the many bridges, neither must she think about them standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower and drinking in the view together. Paris might be a city for lovers but they weren’t lovers—they were colleagues. She had to keep that at the forefront of her mind and use it to block out such nonsense. If it didn’t work then she should remember the other woman in Dylan’s life, the one who’d caused those dark circles under his eyes.
Her heart spasmed with a pain so sharp that it seemed to pierce right through her soul. If Dylan could have chosen who he’d wanted to spend this weekend in Paris with she doubted if he would have chosen to spend it with her!
CHAPTER EIGHT
THIS was driving him crazy!
Dylan accepted another canapé from the waiter, tried again to focus on what was happening. The group he was currently with was discussing some new ground-breaking developments in post-operative care. Normally, he would have been eagerly storing up what he was hearing for later use, but he just couldn’t seem to concentrate when he kept wondering what Joanna was doing.
Soft laughter suddenly flowed across the room and the hair on the back of his neck lifted in atavistic response. Red alert, his cells were screaming. Joanna’s laughing. Prepare!
He glanced over his shoulder and felt his facial muscles go into spasm when he saw her smiling at a tall, distinguished-looking man whom he knew to be one of France’s leading surgeons. There was no doubt at all that she and Jean-Pierre Duteil were getting along famously and a rush of jealousy hit him. He wanted to go straight over there and warn the other guy off, only he knew how Joanna would react if he did that.
He made himself take a couple of deep breaths before he turned back to the group once more. Some of the world’s most distinguished surgeons were attending this conference and he’d be a fool to blot his copy book by appearing unintere
sted in what was going on. Who knew where he could end up working if the situation between him and Joanna grew too fraught to handle?
The welcome party finally came to an end and people started to leave to go back to their hotels. There was a formal dinner being held that evening and it was obvious that everyone was eager to take a break beforehand. Dylan made his way across the room to where Joanna was still deep in conversation with Jean-Pierre Duteil. She didn’t appear to have noticed him so it gave him a chance to study the couple’s body language from close quarters and, quite frankly, he didn’t like what he saw. Duteil was giving out some very strong signals indeed.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Joanna, but I’m heading back to the hotel now.’
He ruthlessly cut into the conversation before Duteil could reply. He saw the Frenchman glance at him and threw caution to the winds as he returned the look with one which must have left Duteil in little doubt about his feelings. To hell with entente cordiale—this was war!
‘Fine. I’ll be along shortly.’ Joanna seemed oblivious to the undercurrents as she treated Dylan to a coolly dismissive smile. Her expression warmed up several degrees, however, when she turned to the Frenchman again and Dylan ground his teeth. Maybe he was in danger of making a fool of himself but there was no way that he was prepared to leave her here.
‘I was hoping you would go over some notes with me,’ he insisted, neatly positioning himself between her and the other man. ‘It’s almost five now so there isn’t much time before we need to get ready for dinner. I’d like to be sure I’ve covered all the points I wanted to make when I present my paper tomorrow.’
‘I’m sure your paper will be perfectly fine,’ she said, even more coldly.
‘I’d still appreciate your input if you could spare the time,’ he shot back.
‘I can see that you two have much to discuss. I, too, need to check my notes for the speech I shall be making after dinner tonight.’ Jean-Pierre’s expression was bland as he lifted Joanna’s hand to his lips and kissed it with Gallic panache. ‘A bientôt, Joanna. I look forward to seeing you again tonight. You, too, Dr Archer, of course.’
The Pregnant Surgeon Page 9