Doctor on the Red Carpet

‘It wasn’t me who spotted it,’ she’d said. She couldn’t sit back and take credit where none was due. ‘It was one of the stuntmen. He was in the army and saw a lot of it there, apparently. He’s the one who flew us down.’

‘Well, whoever caught it, the result’s the same,’ the voice on the other end of the phone said. ‘But tell him good job from me.’

Why did her thoughts keep returning to Kendrick? There was no doubt he was interesting. One minute he was acting like someone straight out of an action movie, the next he was being kind and perceptive and, she had to admit, good company. But that wasn’t the only reason. There was a strength about him, an assurance, as if he was always in control, as if he’d never let anything bad happen on his watch.

In every way he was different from the man she had married. She couldn’t imagine Kendrick walking out on his wife and child when that child had a life-limiting illness. But then again, what did she really know about the stuntman? He was clearly someone who liked his freedom. But that was okay. It wasn’t as if she was thinking of Kendrick in that way. Being intrigued by someone was a whole different ball game to wanting to be with them.

She walked across to the bedside table and picked up the photograph of Charlie. Tracing the contours of her daughter’s face with the tip of her finger, she smiled. From the first moment she’d held her daughter in her arms, she’d been overwhelmed with love. In that instant she’d understood when people talked about a mother’s tigerish protectiveness. And when Charlie had finally been diagnosed with Gaucher’s disease, that instinct had only grown stronger. She would have given her life for her child.

Simon, on the other hand, had been disbelieving, almost outraged. As it had become apparent there was something seriously wrong with their child, he’d insisted on getting a second and then a third opinion. But no matter how many doctors they had seen, the diagnosis had always been the same, as Elizabeth had known it would be. Charlie had inherited a rare gene from both her parents and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the illness taking its course. Finally she had put her foot down.

‘Enough, Simon. She has a terminal illness and nothing’s going to change that. She won’t be with us for long, but whatever time we have with her, can’t we just make the most of it? No more treating her like a pincushion. No more dragging her halfway across the world.’ Seeing the grief in her husband’s eyes, she had softened. ‘Let’s just love her.’

Simon had shaken his head and looked at her, his eyes filled with abject misery. ‘I don’t know if I can cope with all this. I know what that says about me, but I don’t think I can.’

And he couldn’t. He had tried at first, but soon he’d been spending more and more time away from them and at work. Elizabeth had intended to return to her job with the air ambulance service when the baby was six months old, but that had proved impossible. Not that she’d minded. She’d wanted to make the most of every second she had of Charlie’s life.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Simon had left, but it had been. To be honest, she hadn’t even noticed him drawing away from her until it had been too late.

His leaving her rocked her soul, but for Charlie’s sake she had picked herself up and carried on. What else could she do? The last time she had seen her ex-husband had been at Charlie’s funeral.

She would never love again, she knew that. It was too painful. So why was she even thinking about Kendrick? The man was clearly not her type. But wasn’t that part of the reason she was attracted to him? At least he didn’t pretend to be something or somebody he wasn’t.

CHAPTER THREE

KENDRICK glanced over to where Jack was leaning against one of the cars they were using in the shoot, gesticulating with his hands as he talked. Next to him was Elizabeth but from her body language, arms folded, whatever Jack was saying was cutting no ice. For the first time ever, Jack’s famous smile and charm was having no effect. Kendrick eyed Elizabeth speculatively. Most women were fawning, gibbering wrecks when Jack turned on his charm. But Dr Lizzie seemed less than starstruck. Kendrick grinned. The movie star was still persevering, but it would take more than his dazzling, whiter-than-white smile to thaw this particular ice maiden.

What was her story anyway? Why was she so cool and distant? Had she just come out of a broken relationship? It was the most likely explanation for her frosty exterior. If so, he knew exactly how to fix that.

He strolled across to Jack and Elizabeth and was pleasantly surprised to see the look of relief in her eyes when she noticed him and shot him a smile. He loved seeing her all-too-rare smile. It softened her mouth and lit up her eyes.

‘Kendrick,’ she said. ‘Jack was just inviting me to his party next weekend. He says everyone’s going.’

Sneaky so-and-so. Trying to get in there first. Thinking that an invitation to his mansion in Beverly Hills would tip things in his favour. His gut was telling him that it would take more than glitz and glamour to impress the doctor, but he wasn’t going to tell Jack that.

‘You’re coming too, I assume, Kendrick?’ Although the lead actor smiled, Kendrick could see that he didn’t want him to get in his way. Every time they did a film together there would be this little unspoken competition about who would end up with the woman they both wanted. So far the score had tipped in Kendrick’s favour, but Jack was only just lagging behind.

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Kendrick said easily. ‘Would you excuse us for a minute? There’s something I need to speak to Dr Morgan about. In private.’

‘He’s after you, you know that,’ he said as soon as Jack was out of hearing.

Elizabeth shook her hand free and glared at him. ‘I’m perfectly able to look after myself, you know,’ she said coldly. ‘And as for Jack being after me …’ her voice was thick with sarcasm ‘… I can assure you I’m not interested. In him, or any other man for that matter.’

Ouch. There was no mistaking how she meant that comment. It was time to change tack.

‘Look, I was just being a little over-protective. Can’t help myself.’

‘Not when a little lady might need to be rescued,’ Elizabeth bit back.

Wow! She was prickly. This wasn’t exactly going to plan. He changed tack again.

‘Actually, I wanted to ask you about my arm.’ Women couldn’t resist a man in pain and as the doctor she had no choice but to take him seriously. ‘When I did my latest stunt, I think I wrenched it again.’

Elizabeth’s frown was replaced by a look of concern. Kendrick decided not to let the fact it was professional concern bother him. At least she was no longer glaring at him.

‘Why don’t you come into the medical trailer and let me have a look?’ she suggested.

Kendrick raised a triumphant eyebrow at Jack, who was watching them closely, and fell into step next to Elizabeth. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained muscle. Nothing a bit of massage won’t help.’ He shot her a look. ‘I don’t suppose you’re into massage, are you, by any chance?’

Oops, perhaps he’d overdone it. The glare was back.

‘I’m a doctor, not a masseuse!’

She stopped in her tracks and placed her hands on her hips. Kendrick was distracted for a long moment. Her hips curved in just the right places and a man could probably just about circle that waist with the palms of his hands. As for those legs. His eyes travelled down the length of her body and he swallowed a groan as a vivid image of those long legs wrapped around him jumped into his mind.

‘When you’re quite finished …’ a cool voice said, and he dragged his eyes back to her face, only to find himself focusing on a mouth that just cried out to be kissed.

He shook his head. Now was not the place and certainly not the time. Dr Elizabeth Morgan needed a good bit more thawing before he would even risk a quick taste of those lips.

Inside her trailer, Elizabeth instructed Kendrick to sit on her sofa.

Trying to remember that Kendrick’s torso was simply a mass of muscle and fibre, she ran her hands over his powerful shoulders. Then she noticed something odd. A star-shaped hole with lines radiating out from the centre just below his left clavicle. Although she had never seen a bullet wound before, there was no mistaking what this was. She touched the scar with her finger.

‘Is this what I think it is?’ she said softly.

Kendrick nodded. ‘Got it in Iraq. Damn bullet chipped a bit of bone. That’s what makes my shoulder stiff sometimes.’

Not just been in the army, then, but on active service.

So he hadn’t been all together untruthful when he’d crashed from the horse a few days earlier. A wound like that was bound to cause problems. Especially since he insisted on battering it every day of the week.

‘How does a helicopter pilot get a bullet wound?’

His expression darkened and for the first time Elizabeth wondered whether Kendrick was as easygoing as he liked to pretend he was.

‘That’s a long story. Can we save it for another day?’

This time Elizabeth was sure she saw a shadow cross his face. Did Kendrick have something in his past he didn’t want to talk about? Maybe they weren’t so different after all?

‘Sure,’ she said. He was entitled to his privacy as much as she was entitled to hers. Nevertheless, she found herself wanting to know more. Why had he gone from being an officer in the army, someone no doubt with a bright future ahead of him, to a stuntman? And why was she interested? It wasn’t as if she was planning to get involved with him. All she wanted to do was to be left alone with her pain. If he had secrets of his own, it was none of her business and never would be.

Turning her attention back to what she was supposed to be doing—giving the man in front of her the best medical attention she could—she carefully felt along his shoulder, probing gently and asking him to lift and lower his arm. There was a little stiffness there, but nothing too worrying. She would like to have a look at his X-rays and medical records, though. Until she saw them she wouldn’t be happy that he was working as a stuntman. Repeated banging of a damaged limb couldn’t do it any good. She had an idea that Kendrick would somehow have managed to forget to tell the film producers about his medical history.

‘Does Philip know about your shoulder?’ she asked.

‘No. And you’re not going to tell him,’ Kendrick said firmly.

‘He should know. It’s not a good idea to carry on working as a stuntman until I see your X-rays. You could damage your shoulder permanently.’

Kendrick’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist so hard it was almost painful.

‘He’s not to know,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘You’re my doctor and bound by patient confidentiality, isn’t that right?’

Surprised by the vehemence in his tone, Elizabeth removed her hand from his grasp. ‘Of course I can’t say anything, but I’d feel happier if I could get a look at your medical notes.’

Kendrick eased himself off the couch and picking up his shirt, shrugged into it.

‘I have no idea where my records are. Even if I did, there’s nothing in them that would give you any reason to worry. Stuntmen work with injuries all the time. If we stopped every time we hurt ourselves, we’d never work. Broken bones and other injuries are part of the job.’

‘But not bullet wounds surely?’ Elizabeth said sharply.

‘No. They don’t usually use live ammunition on film sets.’ He shook his head in mock dismay. ‘That would lead to too many dead actors.’

Elizabeth flushed. For some reason he was always wrong footing her.

‘So, what about Jack’s party? Are you going to come? Because if you are, we could travel down together.’ The teasing look was back in his eyes. ‘You don’t want to stay here on your own surely? That’s no fun.’

Fun? She wondered if she even remembered what that was.

‘I’m more than happy to stay here by myself. I happen to like my own company.’ She made herself smile. ‘Honestly.’

Kendrick eyed her thoughtfully. ‘I wonder,’ he said slowly. ‘At least think about it.’

Then picking up his hat and whistling under his breath he left her feeling as if she’d just done a couple of rounds in a boxing ring.

Kendrick strode back to his trailer.

Trust Lizzie to have picked up on the bullet wound. Despite her anxiety over almost not picking up Sunny’s malaria instantly, he doubted she missed much.

He’d liked the feel of her cool fingers on his skin. The way a lock of hair had fallen across her face as she’d bent over. She intrigued him more and more. What was behind that guarded exterior?

Not that he wanted to know, he told himself. His interest in Lizzie Morgan was purely physical. The same as his interest in any woman since Amy.

He winced. Amy. His first love and his last. He would never feel that way again. He wouldn’t let himself. Loving someone meant responsibility. Or should do. Their happiness, their life in your hands.

But he had been unable to save Amy. If he’d got there five minutes earlier, might he have been able to? He would never know.

Why was it coming back now? He’d thought he’d closed that particular wound—one that was worse than any physical pain he’d ever experienced. It didn’t matter how many big waves he surfed, how many mountains he flung himself off, how fast he rode his horse, no rush of adrenaline, no losing himself in another woman’s arms could completely wipe out the feelings of loss and guilt.

If the army hadn’t stopped him from flying while they’d investigated, would he have stayed? There was no clear answer to that. Or not one he wanted to think about. At least working as a stuntman gave him a similar adrenaline rush to flying helicopters. He needed his daily dose or he’d go crazy. He grimaced. His father had been disbelieving and furious when he’d told him about his decision to leave the army, but that was too bad. All his life he’d tried to win his father’s approval—and failed. Now he was living the life he wanted, with no responsibility for anyone but himself.

He let himself into his trailer and peeled off his shirt, feeling restless and on edge. He needed to be doing something. A workout would help. And after that? An image of blue eyes and a soft mouth jumped into his head. After his workout, he knew just what he needed to keep his head from going places he didn’t want to go.

Elizabeth stroked the horse’s mane and he whinnied with pleasure. After lunch she had walked around the perimeter of the camp until she had come across the stables.

‘You like horses?’

She started as a deep voice came from behind her. She whirled around to find Kendrick standing there. Earlier she had passed him lying on a bench, dressed only in his army pants, concentrating as he lifted weights above his head. Happily he had been too preoccupied to notice her stealing surreptitious glances at him as each muscle in his abdomen and shoulders bunched every time he lifted the weights above his head.

The horse nuzzled its soft mouth into her hand and she pulled her hand away as its whiskers tickled her palm.

‘Hey, it’s okay. Buster won’t bite,’ Kendrick said, misreading her action.

‘I know. I have ridden before.’ Okay, so it was years ago and was only once, but he didn’t need to know that.

Kendrick raised an eyebrow at her and his mouth turned up at the corners. Elizabeth’s heart thumped against her ribs. It would be much better if he wasn’t so sexy.

‘Have you got anything planned for this afternoon?’ Kendrick continued.

Why was he so damned determined to seek her out at every opportunity? Hadn’t she made it crystal clear she wasn’t interested?

‘Just work. I’m employed here for a reason, you know,’ she said testily, trying to ignore the uncomfortable racing of her heart.

He grinned down at her. ‘Not this afternoon you’re not. Philip is shooting a close-up that involves Jack and Tara in a love scene. Unless something happens there, like she bites his tongue when he tries to put it down her throat, which I wouldn’t put past her—they have a bit of history—I think you’ll be all right.’

‘Why do you want to know?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘Do you need to see me again? Is your shoulder causing you more discomfort?’

‘The shoulder’s fine. I thought you might like to come with me to the desert for a ride. We could take the horses we’ve been using for the stunts. You’ve already met Buster here.’

Would he ever give up? On the other hand, she hated having time on her own, despite what she’d told him earlier. Without something to occupy her mind there was too much time for thinking, and thinking meant remembering….

‘I don’t know. It’s a long time since I’ve been on a horse,’ she admitted ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it had me off in seconds.’

‘No, he won’t. The horses we use are like lambs—really well trained. Besides, we use western saddles. It’s like sitting in an armchair.’

It wasn’t just the horses that was making her hesitate. Although she wanted to see what was out there beyond the confines of the set, she wasn’t sure why Kendrick was asking her. If he thought she was up for some brief romance with him, he was very much mistaken. Couldn’t he see he was wasting his time pursuing her?

‘It’s only a horse ride—I’m not proposing marriage,’ he said, as if reading her mind. ‘Of course, if you’re too chicken …’ He shrugged, leaving the challenge hanging in the air.

Elizabeth made up her mind. Why not? It was unlikely that she’d ever be back here, so she should make the most of every opportunity that came her way.

‘Who do you think you’re calling chicken? I’ve a clinic to do first, but I can be ready about three.’

She turned away, knowing and having to admit liking it that he was staring after her. Was she nuts? Didn’t she know that Kendrick spelt danger? On the other hand, Kendrick was no more looking for a long-term relationship than she was. In that respect they were two of a kind, even if for completely different reasons. And she could handle someone like Kendrick.

The clinic produced no more than the usual sore throats, sniffles and sore muscles, a sprained ankle and a paper cut. Despite the work being a little boring at times, Elizabeth was content that the cast and crew were keeping well. Especially after Sunny becoming ill. Although Philip’s assistant was very much better, she remained in hospital.

Elizabeth was ready and waiting when Kendrick turned up with a riding hat.

She eyed the hat warily.

‘I thought you said it was perfectly safe,’ she said. ‘I’m not intending to go any faster than a walk. You do know that?’

‘Just a precaution,’ he said. ‘Anyone can fall off a horse. We need to make sure the set doc stays in one piece.’

‘Where’s yours, then?’

He looked aghast. ‘When I said anyone, I didn’t mean me. I’ve been riding all my life and only fall off when I mean to.’

Feeling less certain about the proposed adventure, Elizabeth waited while he fastened the helmet on for her. As his fingertips brushed against her throat, she felt goose-bumps pop up all over her body.

Now that she was committed to riding him, Buster looked bigger somehow and Elizabeth eyed him nervously. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But before she could do or say anything, Kendrick had taken hold of her leg and swung her into the saddle. He was right about that at least. It was like sitting in an armchair.

Kendrick adjusted the stirrups for her, lifting each of her legs in turn while he did so. Elizabeth felt a jolt of electricity each time his hands brushed her calves. Why did her hormones seem to have suddenly come back to life? And why with this man?

Once her stirrups were adjusted to Kendrick’s satisfaction, he showed her how to hold the reins in one hand and the pommel of the saddle with another.

‘It will make you feel more secure. If you want to go right, just pull the reins to the right and ditto for the opposite direction. You don’t have to use your legs—he’ll respond to your voice.’

Kendrick swung himself into his own saddle and wheeled his horse round.

‘Just follow me.’

As they left the compound behind Elizabeth began to relax, especially when Buster responded to her voice and the slightest pull on his reins. She looked around. The desert seemed to stretch on for as far as the eye could see, with the mountains in the distance. She hoped Kendrick had water in his saddlebags. Of course he would have water. He wasn’t the kind of man who would go into the desert unprepared. Risktaker he may be, but idiot he clearly wasn’t.

He brought his horse next to hers. ‘There’s a canyon about five miles from here. I thought we could stop there.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘How does it feel? Do you think you could manage to post—I mean trot? Or a short canter?’

‘I could try.’

‘Don’t try and rise or anything fancy. Just relax and stay with the horse’s movements. I’ll go in front. Buster likes to stay behind. If you feel yourself slipping, hold onto the pommel, say whoa and he will. Okay?’

Elizabeth’s mouth had gone dry so she simply nodded. Kendrick kicked his horse on to a slow trot and Buster followed immediately. Elizabeth clenched her teeth before remembering what Kendrick had said about relaxing. She forced her body to go with Buster’s rhythm and soon she found that it was okay. She could do this. All she had to do was concentrate.

Kendrick was riding with one hand on the rear of his saddle, looking back at her and watching to see how she was doing. If she’d dared let go of the saddle or the reins, she would have given him a thumbs-up. As it was, she managed a smile.

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