Kim Lawrence - Partners By Contract

Phoebe’s smile became fixed as the tall, achingly familiar figure appeared, making his way towards them. The way he moved was as firmly lodged in her brain as the sound of his voice, the gold tips of the ends of his long eyelashes or the shape of his elegant hands. Right now his loose-limbed elegance was severely hampered by his injury, but it didn’t stop a stab of pure sexual longing from jolting through her with the force of a lightning bolt.

Nothing had changed! It wasn’t the best moment to discover that she’d been successfully in denial for the last four years. Her first instinct was to drive away and leave them both standing there—such a shame she couldn’t follow it.

‘Fine, Will,’ she responded, a little wild-eyed.

Connor endured his partner’s fussing with growing impatience and a noticeable lack of gratitude. His temper snapped when Will readjusted the passenger seat yet again.

‘I’ve plenty of room for my damned leg!’

‘He was only trying to help,’ Phoebe remonstrated, sparing her passenger a disapproving glare before she started the engine.

‘He’s an old woman!’ Connor grouched.

‘He’s a warm and caring person, and very dedicated—a perfect GP,’ Phoebe corrected in a shaky voice. Will brought out the maternal instinct in most women and Phoebe was no exception.

‘Since when,’ she asked, an antagonistic note creeping into her strained voice, ‘did you want to be a GP anyhow?’ Four years ago he’d just been made a senior registrar in one of the top neurological units in the country. If he’d stayed on that course he would undoubtedly have been a consultant now and, more importantly, he wouldn’t be here in her car, filling it with a warm, sexy Con smell.

‘Perhaps I was inspired by Will. Of course, I can’t aspire to his level of dedication but, despite my lack of warmth, some people think I’m quite good at the job,’ he drawled sarcastically.

Phoebe had never doubted it, and if she had, a day of treating his patients would have put her straight. They’d all made it quite clear that Connor wasn’t just a hard act to follow—he was an impossible act to follow!

‘You’re good at everything, Con,’ she observed with a resigned little sigh. Especially kissing...he was excellent at kissing. Don’t go there Phoebe. Don’t think about his mouth...don’t think about anything!

‘Except being a husband.’

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