The Last Doctor She Should Ever Date (4 page)

‘And losing the first game will make them the laughing-stock of the tournament.’ Just another thing to add to her father’s mounting ire. If he saw the photograph in the paper his anger would fire off the scale, meaning she’d have to try even harder to make him happy.

And just to add to the tension she had the biggest crush of her life on the one person she needed to stay well away from.

Despite the trouble he’d caused, her body had decided it quite liked Zachary Price and was on an all-out bid to convince her brain. Every time she set eyes on him her skin tingled’unless he broke her out in hives which, seeing how irritating he was, could be eminently feasible. But she got hot in places that had never been hot before. Her heart did a funny arrhythmic dance.

This never happened. Never could happen. Not when her focus was on her father. Which was why she needed to adopt all-out avoidance tactics. Not easy when she was stuck with Zac almost 24/7.

She scanned the pitch for any playing concerns.

Jaxon motioned from the field; his thigh injury was obviously causing him distress. ‘Hey, Coach.’ She clicked the switch and spoke into the mic. ‘Next time there’s a break in play we’ll have to sort out Jaxon’s hamstring. I’d suggest bringing him off, but we need him.’

‘Got you.’ Matt’s disjointed voice crackled down.

‘Come on, Jets.’ Zac yelled, and shifted in his seat. His smell wafted around her. She forced back the million things his proximity made her want to do. Hit him. Hold him. Kiss him.

And then suddenly he was running onto the pitch screaming at her to bring the bag, the ice. Her arrhythmia kicked into full force as she grabbed at the equipment and raced towards the player prone on the grass.

‘Manu? Manu? Can you hear me?’ Zac tapped the player’s cheek. ‘Manu?’

‘Yeah?’ Manu’s voice sounded fractured and hazy.

Zac tipped his head up and looked at her, his eyes cautious but determined. ‘Hey, Dani. Head collision. The other one’s okay. Their doctor’s seeing to him.’

‘You want to bring him off?’

‘Let’s see if he can stand.’ He shifted an arm under Manu’s back and manoeuvred him upright. The player staggered to the left but Zac held on to his arm. ‘You okay, mate?’

‘Yeah. Gotta stay and play, though.’

Dani smiled and inched closer to him, aware that this game was possibly the most important in Manu’s life. He wouldn’t want to come off, however badly hurt he was, so they needed to deal with this delicately. A concerned hum rippled round the stadium at one of the star players being injured in the first game. The TV cameras would be fixed on them. She tried to concentrate on their patient, not on the large screens showing her in close-up or on Zac. Definitely not on Zac. ‘Manu. There’s only a few minutes left to go. Let’s get that head looked at so you can play next round.’

‘I’m good. I can stay on.’

‘No, mate. I’m telling you. You’re coming off.’ She flicked her switch again. ‘Bringing him off, Matt.’

‘Says who?’ Manu’s manner darkened. He jumped up and lurched forward, his large face inches from hers, blood running down his cheek from a gash on his forehead, his teeth bared. His eyes looked like they were trying to focus, with little success. If she’d met him in a dark alleyway she’d have run in the opposite direction. Right now she had to face him down in front of the crowd. ‘You’re not the coach. You’re just a woman. What do you know? I’m staying. Okay?’

‘Enough.’ Zac stood between them and faced off the six-feet-two player. Determined, but assertive, Zac’s voice held no nonsense and just enough empathy. ‘Listen. You need a thorough assessment. Head injuries can be a lot worse than just a headache and blurred vision. I’m not taking any risks. As for Dani? She’s our physio, so you’ll listen to her. And I’m the doctor, and right now we’re in charge. We’re both telling you, you need to get off the pitch. Now.’ Then he looped his arm round the player’s shoulder and frog marched him to the sideline.

The raging tachycardia didn’t stop until she left the field accompanied by a round of applause. Although she knew that was probably for Manu’s efforts earlier in the game rather than anything the medical team had done.

‘Is he okay?’ she asked Zac, who was handing their patient over to the ambulance service pitch-side. He flicked his phone into his pocket.

‘Mild concussion, I imagine. Hence the volatile temper. He’ll be fine. I’ve just organised an assessment by a neurologist’they’re taking him now.’

‘Good.’ Although she could have dealt with Manu on her own she’d been glad for Zac’s support. He’d taken a candid attitude in a situation that needed to be dealt with quickly. Even though she was loath to admit, Zac had so far proved to be a skilled doctor and negotiator.

She couldn’t help but steal just another quick glimpse of his face. The tiny dimple that winked at her with every smile. The deep warmth in those dark brown eyes. The strength in the arms that had almost carried a grown man off the pitch. She knew how it felt to be wrapped in them and had a wicked ache to be there again.

A roar reverberated around the crowd. No. She’d missed something important. She turned quickly to watch the replay on the large TV screen.

A try! A try by the Jets, nudging them into a draw. One swift conversion kick and they’d be in the lead. Along with the rest of the crowd she held her breath as Jaxon stepped up to kick. She had to hand it to him; he always seemed so self-assured. Like Zac. That God-given confidence that some men had in abundance. That Zac wore like a comfortable suit.

The ball flew over the bar. The final whistle blew. Game over. They’d won. One hurdle down, another two hundred to go.

She blew out a breath and forced more air back into her lungs. Her father would be pleased. That would make her existence happier until the next game in a few days. No major injuries, excepting a head injury.

She just had to remember to concentrate on the game and not on that alluring dimple.

‘You okay, Daniella?’ Zac caught her up along the player’s tunnel en route to the treatment room. The way he said her name made her stomach flip. No one ever called her that unless she was in serious trouble, but he made it sound pretty. Sexy. It had been a very long time since she’d felt sexy. So she was definitely in trouble. ‘I see a lot of icing and strapping in your future.’

Concentrate on work.
‘Yes, but nothing too major, apart from Manu. They’ll all live.’

He touched her arm, stopped her in her tracks and waited until the tunnel had emptied. ‘Are
you
okay?’

‘Sure. Why?’ The way he looked at her with such concern was disconcerting. Did he think she was weak? ‘You think I can’t handle this?’

‘Absolutely you can. I’ve no doubt at all.’ His hand reached out towards her cheek for a split second, then he appeared to have second thoughts. ‘You looked a bit shaken when Manu lunged at you. I was worried.’

‘Whoa? Pretty Boy turning soft?’
Please don’t do this. Don’t be nice. Nice is too difficult to resist
. ‘I could have handled it. I’m not a helpless cavewoman, even though you act like a Neanderthal.’

‘I can’t help it.’ He grinned, leaned over and whispered close to her ear. Once again his hot breath tickled her skin. Heat pooled in her abdomen, then rippled out in wave after wave of disturbing but delicious sensations through her body. ‘You bring out the caveman in me, all restless and fighting and needing to protect.’

‘Well, go and protect someone else. Somewhere else. I hear there are a lot of damsels in distress in Siberia. Mongolia?’ Anywhere but in this deserted dark tunnel. ‘We’ve got to go and run the injury clinic. The last thing I need is more ill-informed gossip.’

‘We could give them something to gossip about.’ His lips curled into a tantalising smile. He watched her reaction, seemingly mesmerised by the emotions she knew were crossing her face. So much for avoidance tactics. No matter how hard she tried to remain impartial about him, she failed.

His smile reached dark brown eyes that promised her a million sins. ‘I’ve been thinking about that sex ban. I’m compiling a list of all the things we could do that don’t involve the actual act. More like
sex-free
sex. Everything...but.’

Now his hand touched her shoulder, firing intense shivers of heat into her stomach. His voice, deeper, edgier. ‘So how about you help me come up with a few ideas? I vote for...stroking first. Lots and lots of stroking.’

‘Zac.’ She tried for a warning tone, but it came out more like a squeak. A breathless, wanton squeak.

‘Hmm? Here. And here. Stroking. Touching.
Rubbing
.’ His fingers walked slowly from her shoulder, to her neck. To that sensitive dip above her collarbone. She curled instinctively into his touch. The fantasy and the danger threatening to send her over the edge. Before she knew it she’d be adding to that list.

No’she’d be writing her own. How did it go? Hit him...? ‘And now you’re a walking, talking thesaurus?’

‘But you like it. I can tell.’

She shook her head and closed her eyes. Take control.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
But counting backwards from three thousand probably wouldn’t be enough. She purposefully loaded her prosaic schoolmarm voice that she used with the unruly kids at work. ‘How about emigration? Castration?’

‘You’re getting the hang of it, but it needs work.’

At the smirk on his face she hardened. ‘Look, Zachary. I told you before...I’m just not interested.’

‘So say it like you mean it and I’ll walk....’

‘Ahem. Now, now, children. Play nicely.’ Matt’s voice crackled loudly into Dani’s ear. ‘Can you two kiss and make up quickly, then get down here. Davide’s demanding to talk to you both about that newspaper photo. And I’m up to my neck in sticking plaster.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘W
HAT
?’
Z
AC
GLARED
right back at the coach across the small treatment room. The interminable debrief was thankfully coming to an end and he would finally be able to get his head together. Impossible to do when the place was wall-to-wall with management suits and freshly laundered players. And only if he could get Matt off his case. He looked like he had a bad case of terminal indigestion’all bloated and blotchy faced. With Davide’s back turned the coach chopped his fingers across his throat.
Stop.
Zac interpreted.
Cut it out.

So what? He was a highly skilled professional, not some unruly hormone-crazed teenager. And he’d speak with Dani any way he liked. Even if it did mean out-of-bounds top-notch flirting. Because, well, she was good at it, and stopping would be such a waste. It wasn’t doing anyone any harm.

Next time he’d make sure her earpiece was turned off.

Next time... Okay. Sense flooded back with the blood to his brain. There shouldn’t be a next time.

His head pounded. He’d so nearly kissed her. Temptation had pulled him closer to those divine lips, the smile hovering over her mouth attracting him like a bee to a honeypot. And God, yes, he’d been rattled by Manu’s attack on her. Some feral force inside him had made him want to protect her, and flatten Manu.

His track record in protection didn’t exactly shine with excellence. So right now he needed to stop with this insane urge to save her and focus more on saving his job.

Danatello turned and surveyed the group. His steely glare fixed each person in turn.

‘Not good enough, team. A narrow victory clawed from the jaws of defeat. We have to do better.’ Zac understood how the man had become so successful; he dominated the room, his voice like clear cut crystal.

Like Zac’s own father Davide could wither people with a stare and failure wasn’t an option. But unlike Zac’s dusty, stuffy father with his padded elbows and baggy khakis, Davide had Mr Business written all over him. And with fat ruddy cheeks, rotund belly and periodic sharp intakes of breath he was a high-fat, high-stress heart attack waiting to happen. Although Zac doubted the boss would ever let him close enough with a stethoscope to check him out. ‘We need more pressure up front. Early attack.
More focus
. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Bed now, everyone. Apart from the doc and Dani, I need a quick word with you both.’

Beside him, Zac felt Dani’s breathing increase and her body tense. His senses firing on full alert whenever he was near her was becoming a habit. The blood rushed from his brain back to his groin. Which seemed, so far, to activate his flirt mechanism and left little room for making good decisions.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her telltale finger-wrapped-round-with-hair habit. Any second now it would reach her mouth. He waited.

Bingo. Her teeth nibbled around her finger...her eyes hooded and cautious. And it hit him then that standing in front of Davide wasn’t just a minor irritation for Dani, it was full-blown stress. Gone was the competent physiotherapist who’d looked Manu in the eye and told him she was boss. And back now was the cautious girl he’d glimpsed last night on the red carpet. The one who tried to show the world she could handle anything. But this? This softening made his heart ache.

If this was the kind of anxious reaction she had in Davide’s presence, then Zac vowed to put her under no further pressure with flirty games. This wasn’t an easy score, or a quick wrestle between the sheets. This was a woman who clearly craved her father’s approval. And he wouldn’t be the one to snatch that away from her.

As the last person left the room he took control. ‘Mr Danatello, the story in the papers is pure fabrication. Just a whole load of sensational nonsense.’

‘So there’s nothing I should know?’ Davide pierced Zac with an unwavering stare as he threw a newspaper onto the table. His finger jabbed at the grainy photograph. ‘I hate surprises. I hate being lied to. I hate being kept in the dark about anything. And I mean...anything.’

Although he’d seen scant evidence of it in his own life Zac understood a father’s need to protect. But something about Danatello made him think the entrepreneur had a different agenda’not so much protecting his daughter, more power and control.

‘My private life’s not open to scrutiny, Davide. But, for the record, Dani and I met for the first time on the red carpet and we walked into the dinner together. That’s it. The photograph was taken from an odd angle. No further discussion needed. There’s nothing more between us.’ Yeah, right. Like the more he said it, the more it’d be true?

‘No, Daddy. There is absolutely nothing going on.’ Again he felt Dani stiffen beside him, her voice wavering. ‘I’m sorry about all this fuss.’

Zac turned and saw her crestfallen face, her slumped shoulders. Shoot, this was the twenty-first century’no woman should feel under that kind of pressure to make a man happy. Especially when it was Zac’s fault, not hers. His hands fisted at his sides. All his life he’d wished he’d stood up to his own father, now he could at least do it for Dani.

‘I took Dani’s arm to steer her through the barrage of intrusive journalists. I’m not sorry at all and I’d do it again in a flash. But I am disappointed a man and woman can’t be seen together in public without gossip and innuendo. And that people actually care about the rubbish they read.’ He glared at Danatello, hoping his message would get across.
Back off.
With his job on the line he had to pick his words carefully. Ignoring Danatello’s open mouth he fixed his gaze on Dani. ‘We work well together and we’ll make a good team. I only care about helping the Jets win. That’s all. I’ll see you in the morning.’

* * *

Dani caught up with Zac in the foyer waiting for the lift. Would every evening end with them zooming skywards with no words and a raging tension between them?
Bring on the final and then home, sweet home.

But instead of dampening her irrational attraction to him the whole scenario had heightened it. The guy had
powerful
honed to perfection. He turned and fixed her with an intense gaze filled with passion and strength, and the force of it hit her hard in the solar plexus. Gone was the playboy flirt, here was a man of substance. In fact, everything she’d seen of him today’in the treatment room, pitch-side, with her father, had fitted pieces to a jigsaw that made him gloriously whole. Professional, charismatic. Desirable. Sex on legs. Very nice legs, very muscly legs, if the outline of his trousers was anything to go by.

He managed a smile, his shoulders relaxing in his smart designer suit as the light filtered back into his eyes. Warm honey flecked those pools of deep brown and heat fizzed in her abdomen.

What was happening to her? This wasn’t sensible Dani who worked hard to keep everything under control.

Something inside was struggling to break free’her long-repressed sense of fun, perhaps? Devil-may-care? But look where that had got her before... And she wasn’t headed that way again any time soon.

Being caught out having a sexy conversation, like a naughty schoolgirl, had ignited a playful part of her that had been dormant for too long. It had been years since she’d felt so frivolous and alive.

But the only things that mattered were winning the tournament, getting back on track with Daddy and making amends for the past. Zac was in the way. A roadblock that she needed to steer round. One that, right now, shook with anger. So she needed to try to smooth over their working relationship. ‘Thanks for what you said in there, Zac. At least we’re all clear.’

‘Absolutely crystal.’ He shook his head. ‘Your father’s really something.’

‘He is. Don’t worry, you won’t lose your job. He’s hot-headed and volatile but not stupid. Where would he get a replacement doctor in the middle of a tournament?’

‘He doesn’t have a spare doctor daughter lurking in the shadows?’

‘Not that I know of.’ She laughed.

For all his faults Davide was still her father and that fierce love she had for him failed to diminish no matter how much he pushed her away. At least he hadn’t suggested the tabloid photos had been a good thing, and set them up with some sort of media-frenzied magazine shoot like Deanna. And at least Zac hadn’t sold her out, like Paul had. Yet. It was early days and there was still time for him to show his true colours. Where men like her father were concerned it seemed there were no depths to which they’d stoop. Unfortunately, it was always to her cost.

‘I get the feeling he wouldn’t care about sacking anyone if they got on his wrong side.’ Zac pounded the lift button with his fist. ‘Does he even have a right side?’

‘Oh, yes.’
I just haven’t found it yet.
But she would, before it was too late. She forced a smile. ‘Ever since my mother died he’s struggled to keep a lid on his temper. She was his mellow voice of reason.’

Zac swivelled to face her, his manner softening, anger turned to sadness in those dark brown eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It was a long, long time ago. I barely remember her.’
And don’t pity me.

‘So you put up with him acting like that even now?’

She lifted her chin and plastered on her plastic smile. Because it was too complicated to share things about her relationship with her family. ‘Yes. Yes, we do. You wouldn’t understand.’

His arm leaned lazily against the elevator frame. ‘Try me.’

‘No. I don’t want to try anything with you, Zac.

He leaned closer. ‘Liar.’

God, yes. But she wasn’t going to act on it. ‘Not even tempted.’

He stepped closer. ‘No? You sure?’

‘Positively.’

‘That’s not what your eyes are telling me. Your eyes tell me lots of things, Dani. What you’re thinking...what you want. How you feel.’

No way. She hadn’t spent years building barriers just for him to blast them away. ‘Well, let these words tell you exactly how I feel, Zachary. Butt out.’ She snapped her eyes closed and breathed out. Hard.

After a few moments she took a chance, opened one eye to find him staring at the elevator door. She watched his face, the upturned corners of his delicious mouth, travelled lower to the hard wall of chest, the way his trousers curved around a perfectly formed butt.

And then reactivated her avoidance plan.

Dodging past him into the lift she pressed the eleventh-floor button, but he jumped in next to her. A thousand questions ran across his gaze and she turned away unable to give him any answers. The oppressive heat of the late-summer evening pressed against her, that and the unbearable harsh thump of her heart made her struggle to catch her breath.

For long seconds she was aware of nothing but the beat of her heart, the slam of desire in her chest. The agony of wanting him and knowing it could never happen, and the ecstasy of being held in the heat of those eyes. However many times she told herself to keep away from him, he drew her closer, like a magnetic force tugging her north.

A quick jerk and the lift started its ascent. Her stomach flipped and her heart danced. Despite all her resolve she couldn’t pretend she didn’t want to touch him. He may have been way off limits but, damn, he was beautiful.

His white dress shirt looked so starched and new she wondered how much his heat had softened it. Just one fingertip running along that line of tiny pearl buttons would tell her. His hands, gripping the rail, looked capable and strong. She imagined what pleasure they could give her. A low hum started in her abdomen, stroked her deep inside.

Memories of last night, his touch on her arm, jumbled into her head. His scent washed over her, that same exotic spice, making her feel dizzy. How would his lips taste? How would he take her? Sweet and slow or hard and fast? She knew he wanted her. Had known since the second he’d looked at her on that red carpet, the sharp flash of awareness fired in his eyes. And it hadn’t dimmed. If anything it blazed more brightly.

Oblivious to the carnal thoughts zipping round her head he lounged casually against the handrail, his image multiplied a thousand times in the large mirrors. Everywhere she looked he filled her vision. Even when she closed her eyes.

Was it a weakness to wish the lift would break down? Right now. Right when they were alone. To turn to him in the dark and press her lips against his. To taste him, to feel his body against hers. In here, where no one would ever know. Where there were no cameras. Where her father’s stupid celibacy rules couldn’t matter. Where she could take a risk and do something rash and fun without worrying about the consequences or broken trust.

To halt time...just for a few seconds.

She opened her eyes and focused on the big red emergency stop button.
Please stop. Stop.

Suddenly, as if answering her prayers, the lights flickered and the lift jolted.

There was a God!

Grabbing on to his arm to steady herself’and just for the sheer delight of touching him’she laughed. Then the lift pinged at level eleven and the doors whooshed open.

Maybe there wasn’t a God after all. Or maybe some annoyingly chaste goody-two-shoes was just looking out for her.
Gee, thanks, buster
.

She blew out a deep sigh. Just for a moment she’d dared to dream, but the idea of kissing him lodged centre stage in her brain. Letting go of his arm was impossible, her legs wouldn’t take her weight and if she did let go she’d crumple in a heap at his feet. So not the sophisticated image she wanted to portray. So she hung on to the dark navy sleeve.

‘Come on, princess, time for bed. It’s been a long day.’ He pressed his palm over her hand so tenderly she wanted to cry. How could he do
nice
when she wanted him to do
down and dirty
? But the tenderness struck a chord’the man was definitely the whole package. Or he certainly played the whole package...and she was falling for it, hook, line and sinker.

Well, she wouldn’t. The last thing she needed was to lose her heart to another charmer who’d use her as a stepping stone to his own success.