The Last Doctor She Should Ever Date Read online

  ‘Yes, yes. The famous Lady Godiva moment.’

  He grinned but looked a little bemused.

  ‘Lady Godiva? The woman who rode naked on horseback through a town to complain about taxes or something? Centuries ago?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, my dad’s a history boffin, I know. Pure class.’ His gaze shifted down to her décolletage, this time covered with silk and chiffon, not two thick blonde braids. One swift glance back at her face and he frowned. He touched her shoulder and looked into her eyes. She wanted to shake away from his fingers, but they were strangely comforting. Despite being her father’s lackey there was something quietly honest about him.

  Or was he like everyone else and hiding behind a veneer of trust? She couldn’t trust her own reactions these days.

  ‘Dani, we’ve all done things we regret. It’s how you stand up again that counts. Everyone will forget in time.’ He said the words softly, but with a firmness that told her he spoke from experience.

  ‘Four years, and there’s no evidence to the contrary. But I’m past caring.’ Call it self-preservation but she’d long since decided to focus on her career and put her past behind her. Shame others hadn’t.

  She took a glass of water from a passing waiter and gulped it down knowing she should be walking away from this conversation, from this man, but somehow unable to do so. Pretty Boy was irritating and beguiling in equal measure, but there was also something more about him that intrigued her. For once she wanted to put the record straight; if she was going to be taken seriously everyone needed to know she’d grown. She would not let her past define who she had become. ‘I’ve worked damned hard to be who I am today. Which is a whole lot different to the stupid celebrity brat back then. It’s easy for you to say they’ll forget. But really, have the media documented every single mistake you’ve ever made? Made an example out of you? Every time I try to stand up they knock me down. You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I know enough about failing in someone else’s eyes. I know what it’s like to let people down.’ He stilled, his hand wrapped round the thick stub of a tumbler. Something behind his eyes shuttered down, the heat waned. She got the feeling again that he understood some part of what she’d endured. Then he came back to her. ‘But no one’s seen you for years.’

  ‘And that’s exactly how I want it. Where I live and what I do keeps me away from all this...’ She flicked a swirl of her designer silk dress, let it drop. Thank God her sister had lent it to her, because it would have cost more than she could have afforded on her wages. Not that it bothered her. Money didn’t mean a thing. ‘This pretense.’

  ‘It might appear like that to you, but many would give their right leg to be here rubbing shoulders with elite athletes, movie stars, New Zealand celebrities. Besides, isn’t this how the world works—money, position, power?’ The way his chest puffed and his jaw lifted told her he clearly loved it.

  And she’d had enough to last her a lifetime. Knew how it skewered people, took them away from the things that mattered, like family, love, truth. ‘Not my world.’

  ‘Which is?’

  When she didn’t answer he followed up. ‘So why come back now?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’ Across the room her father beckoned her with the crook of his finger. Dani put her glass on the nearby table. ‘I’ve got to speak to my dad.’

  ‘Wait. I’d like to take you to dinner, Dani, after all this madness has finished. In a few weeks. If you’re free.’ He studied her reaction and she wondered whether he meant free as in nothing in her diary, or free as in available. Either way it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t be going.

  He drew out his wallet, handed her a business card with one hand and with the other curled that same lock of her hair around his finger in a well-practised move. She’d bet any money he’d done that a thousand times to a thousand different women. He oozed charm and sex appeal and...experience. His voice smoothed over her; his gaze sent jolts of heat skittering through her abdomen testing her resolve. ‘We have a no-sex rule for the tournament duration. The team and the management. It sucks, I know, but this job is important to me and I wouldn’t want to be tempted...not until we’ve won.’

  ‘Whoa. Rewind. I’m sorry...?’ She held up her palm and raised her voice over the crescendo strains of Moonlight Sonata—it came to an abrupt end just as she spat her words out. ‘You want to have sex with me?’

  Oh, God. Silence shivered around the room. Her heart thumped in her too-tight bone bodice. For the second time in twenty minutes all eyes focused directly on her. For a woman shying away from the limelight things had taken a nasty turn. Unfortunately, the nearest rock happened to be the centrepiece of a large ornate fountain. And she had no inclination to crawl under it and recreate yet another fantasy for the spotty male teenagers of New Zealand.

  She found a wobbly smile for the mayor and lady mayoress. Waved coyly to her father, whose face had turned a worrying shade of beetroot. Bowed gently to the lady in full Japanese formal dress.

  Pretty Boy grinned and raised his water glass to a table of gaping rugby players, then tilted his head to one side as he watched her turn the colour of the Jets’ strip. He was enjoying this. Damn him. ‘Well, not immediately. Obviously. I thought we could work up to it. Maybe after the hors d’oeuvres...’

  ‘I can’t believe you just said that, Mr...whoever you are...’ She turned the card over and read his name. ‘Mr... Oh. Dr Zachary Price.’ Sports Doctor to Auckland Jets.

  Her heart sank. Pretty Boy was the team doctor? Not just some lackey, but the guy she’d be spending the next few weeks with, in close quarters.

  And he wanted to sleep with her? Even more concerning, she had the distinct notion her wayward hormones thought the feeling was mutual. She kept her voice raised, just so he and the rest of the staring audience understood her sentiment. Loud and Clear. ‘I’m sorry, Dr Price, but I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last person on earth.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘I’LL TAKE THAT as a no, then.’ Or at least a not yet. Still holding the now empty tumbler Zac shrugged as his eyes followed the delectable Dani in her clinging smoky-silver dress. She stalked across the room to her father, her back rigid, her footsteps staccato.

  Confusion warred with amusement. Truth was, after her outburst his interest in her had spiked, not deflated as she’d hoped—intrigued, maybe. Aroused, definitely.

  But he’d had a lucky break there. It had been a stupid idea asking her out to dinner. His usual type of woman was independent and aloof, a woman he could walk away from, not half-frightened confused debutantes. And as a proud member of the serial daters club he liked to establish rules at the outset. Number one: no strings.

  Number two: no commitment.

  Number three: no meeting the parents. Okay, they all added up to the same thing, but it always worked out fine.

  Getting close to people? No—he didn’t do that. Not any more. It only brought with it a major dose of guilt when things went haywire and from his experience things always went haywire. He scuffed a hand through his hair and let the painful memories roll over him before he filed them back in the corners of his heart.

  A few more things he’d learned, though; never give more of yourself than you have to. Never make promises you can’t keep. And never get involved with someone who wanted for ever. Because he just couldn’t give it. For ever meant someone relying on him and Zac had a track record of letting people down in the most devastating of ways.

  Dani—well, she had for ever written all over her creamy skin, designer gown and manicured nails. For ever, and high maintenance. Two things that instantly sounded warning bells.

  Matt, the team coach, sauntered over and whistled. ‘Hey, bro...was that...?’

  ‘Lady Godiva. Yes.’ As he said the silly nickname that had been bandied around by the press following her arrest, Zac felt a sudden and unexpected need to defend her. For the second time tonight. God, he needed to concentrate on this new job.
That was what he’d gambled his safe career and family relationships on. Not to lose focus on some girl who he’d be better keeping away from.

  But for all her bravado he’d seen behind Dani’s spirited act. There were barriers in her eyes that kept everyone at bay and seemed to intensify when she looked at him. Given different circumstances it might have been fun to see how far he could penetrate those barriers; he’d always been one for a challenge. But not with Dani. He sensed she’d been hurt; he’d seen it in action with those facile headlines. ‘But don’t ever call her that. It was a long time ago but it still smarts.’

  ‘Noted. Shame she’s lost the braids, though. I liked them.’

  ‘I said...’

  ‘Okay. Pull your head in.’ Matt’s eyes widened. ‘You’re dicing with death there, Doc. You know Danatello’s tournament rules. No drugs, no alcohol, no bawdy behaviour. No sex. Especially not with the boss’s daughter.’

  Zac’s eyes drifted back over to the smoky dress. The soft skin he’d touched for the merest second. The blonde ringlet curls he could imagine decorating his pillow.

  Reality check: she’d broken cardinal rule number three—she was Davide’s daughter. Heck, he’d met the father before he’d even met the girl.

  But he couldn’t pretend there wasn’t an attraction there. The four-week sex ban had only started this morning and it was doing strange things to his head already. ‘You know, there’s absolutely no evidence that sexual abstinence makes any difference to an elite athlete’s game. In fact, spending time with wives or girlfriends might even help morale.’

  Matt grinned. ‘Yeah, I got you, mate. I agree, and so does the wife.’ His eyebrows rose. A kindred spirit, clearly. ‘I don’t see why management should have to abstain too. Davide’s got this crazy idea from some article he read; no sex is supposed to keep the players hungry and high with testosterone. It’s not proven at all, but are you going to tell him he’s wrong on your first day? Don’t forget what happened to Stewy.’

  ‘Ah, Stewy. A difference of opinion? Yeah, right. Davide dumped Stewy because he dared to disagree with the game plan. But the boss obviously didn’t think about the effect it would have on the team. Or me.’ The physiotherapist had been sacked one day before the most important rugby tournament since the World Cup. Leaving Zac without a right-hand man and facing a lot of work between now and the opening ceremony in a few hours. ‘There’s a salutory lesson in keeping your mouth shut, but maybe if I blind him with medical science, he might listen to me.’

  ‘Don’t waste your breath.’ Matt slapped him on the back. ‘Davide Danatello doesn’t care about science. He lives for Auckland Jets. It’s not like your last job—here, Davide is chairman, major sponsor and boss. So, if you want to keep your job, embrace his sentiment.’

  ‘My last job was voluntary. Having a salary is a whole different ball game, I need to keep on his side.’ But he knew he was at the beck and call of a volatile investor. No decent medical structure. Rash decision-making based on gut reaction and no clinical evidence.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Matt shrugged. ‘And for twenty-eight days you’ll have no sex—whether it’s with his daughter or not—and no arguing, Doc.’

  ‘And now, no physio too...I’m holding out for some yeses. The list of nos is getting too depressing.’ Zac groaned as he watched the Jets players taking their seats, all decked out in black tie and suits that hid the metres of sport strapping holding them together. ‘Three quarters of them need some sort of massage or intensive therapy between matches to even get them on the pitch in one piece. With the best will in the world I can’t do that single-handedly. I’m good, but I’m not that good.’

  His gut tightened as he took his place at the table, nodding in greeting to the others as the MC called for order. One empty place remained next to him. Some unknowing sap had forgotten to remove the table-setting card for the missing physio. Just another minor irritation to add to the rest. It all seemed so...unprofessional.

  Great. It was supposed to be every boy’s dream, working for their favourite sports team. If the Jets won the tournament there’d be glory in abundance. But, if he stood his ground and fought Davide’s irrationality with reason he’d be out of a job completely.

  His heart sank and met his fading libido somewhere around his navel. No women. No sex, and surrounded by jokers. Not to mention he’d thrown his successful GP career over for this. Left his well-earning practice and the safety net of friends and scrap of family. The ‘life’s-too-short’ lesson he’d learnt from Tom’s accident was back to kick him in the butt. Today, life’s-too-short was fast morphing into be-careful-what-you-wish-for.

  Fly-by-night, his parents had called him, wastrel. Unreliable. And a whole host of other unsavoury things that boiled down to the fact that he’d disappointed them. Again. Tom must have thought the same too, once, but didn’t have the guts to put it into words. Zac had a history of letting people down.

  So whatever happened he couldn’t fail.

  As he once again pushed the painful memories away, he picked up the absent physio’s place card and threw it into the centre of the table, nudging Matt on his right. ‘I don’t want some shonky rookie physio. Whoever Davide gets had better be good and he’d better be experienced. I haven’t got time to explain things. I need action.’ Zac shrugged and gestured towards the casualty line-up on the next table. ‘I want these boys to win as much as anyone else does. There’s a lot riding on this tournament.’

  ‘He’s on to it. He’ll find someone.’ Matt pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. ‘Here’s tomorrow’s timetable. Breakfast at six, media call, captain’s run, injury clinic, then the bus to the opening ceremony and first game. It’s going to be intense.’ He shrugged. ‘Cheer up, Doc. There’d be no time for sex anyway.’

  Zac found a grin and tried to own it. ‘Well, in my limited downtime I’ll try to think of a unique way to use up those two thousand condoms I was given by one of the bronze tier sponsors.’

  ‘Two thousand?’ Matt spluttered into his sparkling water. ‘Your reputation goes before you?’

  ‘They’re for the players—got to keep them safe, you know. Sports doctoring’s about the whole body, not just muscles.’ He grinned and leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. ‘But hey, what can I say? My reputation’s done me no harm in the past. I like women. So what? It’s not a crime. All work and all play makes Zac a happy man.’

  ‘What makes Zac a happy man? Oh, don’t tell me, I think I know already.’ Dani’s polite voice drifted over him along with that expensive perfume that had him turning instinctively towards her. She stood next to the empty chair and looked for all intents like she was going to sit in it. Surely that wouldn’t go down well with Davide Danatello.

  Zac opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

  ‘Shame about the ban though. And the public rejection.’

  ‘Dani, how nice to see you.’ He stood immediately. Noticing for the tenth time her eyelids were covered in a shimmering gold that made her blue eyes shine. It was dazzling. She was dazzling. And obviously rattled. Not a good sign if their last conversation was anything to go by. He determined to keep both his trousers and his dirty mouth zipped. ‘The keynote’s on in a minute. Shouldn’t you be getting to your seat?’

  ‘I am.’ She offered him a bitter smile and the temperature in their corner of the room dropped ten degrees. She nodded at the rest of the guys at the table. ‘Evening, gentlemen.’

  Murmured responses and wide eyes greeted her. And every single one of them straightened their shoulders and stared at her cleavage like rabbits caught in headlights. He knew exactly what was going on in their puerile brains, and it involved blonde braids and a horse.

  He felt duty bound to shield her from their ogling but luckily the lights began to dim and their attention diverted to the stage. ‘Er...I think that chair is taken,’ Zac whispered as she sat down in it. ‘Or it will be.’ Hopefully soon, if Davide pulled his finger out.

 
‘Oh, yes.’ Her voice was determined and definitive. ‘It is. We haven’t been properly introduced, Dr Price.’ She stuck out her perfectly polished hand and flashed that false smile she’d used for the hacks outside. ‘I’m Daniella, the new team physio.’

  * * *

  Hard to imagine that the moth around the paparazzi flames would be lost for words, but Dani watched as Zac frowned, lifted a glass and downed the contents. If she hadn’t seen the light in his eyes dimmed as she’d admitted why she was really here she’d have found the scenario amusing.

  Once she would have cared, but she had determined to rise above what people thought of her. She was here to work whether he liked it or not. Building friendships wasn’t in the job description.

  She dredged up her impartial mask, listened politely to her father welcoming the international dignitaries and guests, watched a seemingly never-ending line of famous ex-players extol their excitement about the tournament and managed to pick at a few morsels of finest New Zealand lamb and a kiwifruit soufflé. All the while hyper-aware of Zac’s poker-straight back, the tight line of his jaw and the distinct air of disappointment. Having grown up in the shadow of it, she recognised it well.

  Dinner finished and the band started up. Suddenly finding herself the only one on the crowded table not in a conversation she fiddled with the crockery. Curled her fingers in her hair. Tapped her leg to the beat.

  The whole team set-up felt like an old boys’ club, and she definitely hadn’t been made welcome. She swallowed the stirrings of anger behind her smile and sneaked a look at Pretty Boy.

  He’d undone his tie so it hung round his neck. His white starched shirt was open at the collar, one arm slouched over the back of his chair. Everything about him screamed success and ease and he looked like he’d fit in anywhere, had the kind of charm and grace her father had tried to master and yet had never managed.

  But his dark eyes burnt with indignation as he turned to her. ‘So, jobs for the girls, is it?’