Alison Roberts - The Playboy Doctor's Proposal

Sure enough, the flight became smoother and the cabin crew began to serve drinks and meals. The steward that stopped beside Hannah cast a second glance at her companion, listened to him patiently while he complained about the delay in being fed and then winked at Hannah.

‘I’ll be back in a tick,’ he said.

When he returned, he bent down and whispered in Hannah’s ear. Then he opened the overhead locker and removed the bag she specified. Hannah unclipped her seat belt and stood up with a sigh of relief.

‘Hey!’ Blair was watching the removal of the bag with concern. ‘Where’re you going, darling?’

‘We’ve got a bit of room up front,’ the steward informed him. ‘I’m just juggling passengers a bit. If you lift the arm-rest there, Sir, I’m sure you’ll find the journey a lot more comfortable.’

Much to Hannah’s astonishment, ‘up front’ turned out to be an upgrade to business class. Her eyes widened as she realised she was going to have a window seat—no, both the seats—all to herself.

‘You’re an angel of mercy,’ she told the steward. ‘Wow! I’ve never flown business class before.’

‘Enjoy!’ The steward grinned. ‘I’ll make sure they bring you something to drink while you settle in and have a look at the breakfast menu.’

Hannah sank into the soft seat, unable to contain her smile. She stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes. Not much chance of developing a DVT here. There was any amount of elbow room, as well. She tested it, sticking her arms out like wings. She even flapped them up and down a little. Just as well there was no one to see her doing a duck impression.

Or was there? Hannah hadn’t yet considered the possibility of a passenger on the other side of the aisle. She turned her head swiftly, aware of a blush starting. And then she recognised the solitary figure by the window and she actually gasped aloud.

Glaring was probably the only description she could have used for the way Ryan Fisher was looking at her.

‘Oh, my God!’ Hannah said. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I WAS about to ask you the same thing.’

‘I got upgraded.’ Hannah hadn’t intended to sound defensive. Why did this man always bring out the worst in her? ‘Things were a bit crowded down the back.’

‘Here you go, Dr Jackson.’ A pretty, redheaded hostess held out a tray with a fluted glass on it. ‘And here’s the menu. I’ll come back in a minute to see what you’d like for breakfast.’

‘Thank you.’ Hannah took a sip of her juice and pretended to study the menu, which gave a surprisingly wide choice for the first meal of the day. There were hours of this flight left. Was she going to have to make conversation with Ryan the whole way?

It was some sort of divine retribution. Hannah had been feeling guilty ever since Monday night when she’d let fly and been so rude to a colleague. She couldn’t blame him for either the retaliation or the way he’d been avoiding her for the last few days. The personal attack had been unprofessional and probably undeserved. He couldn’t know where the motivation had come from and Hannah certainly couldn’t tell him but…maybe she ought to apologise?

She flicked a quick glance from the menu towards Ryan. He was still glaring. He wasn’t about to use their first meeting away from work to try building any bridges, was he?

Hannah wished she hadn’t looked. Hadn’t caught those dark eyes. She couldn’t open her mouth to say anything because goodness only knew what might shoot out, given the peculiar situation of being in this man’s company away from a professional setting. Imagine if she started and then couldn’t stop?

If she told him her whole life history? About the man her mother had really fallen in love with—finally happy after years of getting over her husband’s tragic death. Of the way she’d been used and then abandoned. Hannah had known not to trust the next one that had come along. Why hadn’t her mother been able to see through him that easily? Perhaps the attraction to men like that was genetic and too powerful to resist. It might explain why Susie had made the same mistake. Fortunately, Hannah was stronger. She might want Ryan Fisher but there was no way she would allow herself to have him.

Oddly, the satisfying effect of pushing him firmly out of her emotional orbit the other night was wearing off. Here she was contemplating an apology. An attempt at establishing some kind of friendship even.

Ryan hadn’t blinked.

Hannah realised this in the same instant she realised she could only have noticed because she hadn’t looked away. The eye contact had continued for too long and…Oh, God! What if Ryan had seen even a fraction of what she’d been thinking?

Attack was the best form of defence, wasn’t it?

‘Why are you staring at me?’

‘I’m still waiting for you to answer my question.’

‘What question?’

‘What you’re doing here.’

‘I told you, I got upgraded.’

‘You know perfectly well that wasn’t what I meant. What the hell are you doing on this flight?’

‘Going to Cairns.’ Hannah didn’t need the change in Ryan’s expression to remind her how immature it was to be so deliberately obtuse. She gave in. ‘I’ve got a connecting flight at Cairns to go to a small town further north in Queensland. Crocodile Creek.’

Lips that were usually in some kind of motion, either talking or smiling, went curiously slack. The tone of Ryan’s voice was also stunned.

‘You’re going to Crocodile Creek?’

‘Yes.’

‘So am I.’

‘Did you decide what you’d like for breakfast, Dr Jackson?’

‘What?’ Hannah hadn’t even noticed the approach of the redheaded stewardess. ‘Oh, sorry. Um…Anything’s fine. I’m starving!’

The stewardess smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can surprise you with.’ She turned to the other side of the aisle. ‘And you, Dr Fisher? Have you decided?’

‘I’ll have the fresh fruit salad and a mushroom omelette, thanks.’

Ryan didn’t want to be surprised by his breakfast. Maybe he’d just had enough of a surprise. As had Hannah. She waited only a heartbeat after the stewardess had moved away.

‘Is there a particular reason why you’re going to Crocodile Creek at this particular time?”

‘Sure is. I’m best man at my best mate’s wedding.’

‘Oh…’ Hannah swallowed carefully. ‘That would be…Mike?’

Ryan actually closed his eyes. ‘And you know that because you’re also invited to the wedding?’

‘Yes.’

Ryan made a sound like a chuckle but it was so unlike the laughter Hannah would have recognised she wasn’t sure it had anything to do with amusement. ‘Don’t tell me you’re lined up to be the bridesmaid.’

‘No, of course I’m not. I don’t know Emily that well.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘My sister’s the bridesmaid.’

Ryan’s eyes opened smartly. Hannah could have sworn she saw something like a flash of fear. Far more likely to be horror, she decided. He disliked her so much that the prospect of being a partner to her sister was appalling? That hurt. Hannah couldn’t resist retaliating.

‘My twin sister,’ she said. She smiled at Ryan. ‘We’re identical.’

Ryan shook his head. ‘I don’t believe this.’

‘It is a bit of a coincidence,’ Hannah agreed, more cheerfully. Ryan was so disconcerted that she actually felt like she had control of this situation—an emotional upper hand—and that had to be a first for any time she had spent in Ryan’s company, with the exception of Monday night. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. ‘So, how come you know Mike so well?’

But Ryan didn’t appear to be listening. ‘There are two of you,’ he muttered. ‘Unbelievable!’