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'Especially tempting since it meant coming back to one of the best hospitals in the country,' Harry said heartily, apparently recovered from his shock over Luke's announcement. 'We might not be enormous but we're perfectly formed. Just like me.' He tapped the top of his bald, rounded head and chuckled at his own joke.

'We're absolutely delighted to have snared you, Luke. I know for a fact we weren't the only ones making offers and we're very glad you chose us. It's an honour, passing my job on to a clinician of your reputation. Now, Annabel...' Harry waggled his brows at her above his spectacles. 'I think Luke's met everyone. You were the last to arrive by a long way.' He glanced around the other groups of doctors at the welcoming reception, as if making sure of that.

'Why don't you take him around the place a bit? Show him the labs and clinic rooms and the things he really needs to see. I've given him a quick general tour of the hospital but, since you're friends, you'll be able to give him a more personal, insider's slant on everything.'

Annabel felt a pang of something behind her breastbone like indigestion. She took a hasty sip of her neglected juice, attempting to buy time while she considered how best to dodge Harry's suggestion, but the drink had turned unpleasantly warm while she'd been holding it and she put the cup down onto the table beside her. The liquid, given the current nervous state of her stomach, would only add to her nausea. 'I expect tomorrow would be a more suitable time,' she began determinedly.

Luke interrupted with a deceptively benign, 'Now suits me.' Imitating her own movement with her juice, he put down the cup of what looked like beer which he'd been holding on the table beside hers. 'Unless, Annie, you're in a hurry to get home. To a husband perhaps? Do you have children now?'

Annabel met his regard warily, wondering if his question was simply the polite, concerned enquiry he'd made it seem, or if he could actually be curious about her life now.

But that, of course, was ridiculous. Why would he care? Self-consciously aware that both men were waiting for her to continue, and that she'd allowed the silence to stretch fractionally too far, she said simply, 'I'm not married and no one's expecting me home. Naturally, if now suits you I'm happy to show you around.' That at least would get them away from witnesses. 'Harry, we won't be long. Will you still be here or...?'

'I think I'll just drink up and be on my way,' the older doctor said sagely. 'I'm not as young as I used to be. I need my sleep these days. I'll see you in the morning, Annabel. And you, Luke. Goodnight.'

Annabel, tensely conscious of every one of Luke's easy strides beside her, waited until they were a little way along the corridor connecting the administrative part of the hospital—where the reception had been held—with the ward and clinical blocks.

'Of course, we both know there's no need for me to show you much of the place,' she said stiltedly, sliding a quick sideways look up to meet his neutral perusal. 'You did work here for a year as a registrar after all. Not a lot's changed around here since then.'

'How long have you been here?'

'Coming up for eighteen months as a consultant.' She'd spent most of her registrar years rotating between hospitals affiliated to the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead but had accepted a specialist cardiology job at St Peter's in the final year of her training. 'I came here towards the end of my specialist training and applied for this job when one of the consultants retired. Naturally, we're a high-tech unit, but you'll still find this a pleasantly relaxed, friendly place to work. I'm sure you'll enjoy your time here.'

For however long he lasted, she added mentally. While even being in a position to be considered for the position
of Medical Director at St Peter's would have been for most of them the absolute pinnacle of their careers, she knew Luke well enough to know he'd merely view the position as a stepping stone. He was powerfully ambitious and there were bigger hospitals in the world and cardiac units with higher profiles. She didn't expect him to stay long.

'These are all part of the rehabilitation unit,' she commented, indicating the two wards branching off as the corridor entered the ward block proper. 'I'm sure you'll remember the layout of the place once you've had a chance to refresh your memory although when you were here this area was probably smaller. There's a counselling team down in here which is tied in with the unit as well, plus social services, and we have a supervising psychiatrist, along with a good team of nurse therapists.

'We take rehab very seriously these days, of course. The staff are dedicated and enthusiastic and accept referrals for everyone from our babies and their families up through the transplant cases, with donors and patients and families, as well as the usual sort of work with heart attack rehabilitation. It's a big unit. Since you were here last it's been extended out into the new building through there. You'll find it interesting to have a look around. We run night classes and weekend workshops for ex-patients and new referrals. We have—'

'You don't have to sell me on the place, Annabel. I agreed to take the job three months ago.'

Annabel felt herself flush. He'd stopped, meaning she felt she had to stop, too, but she kept her eyes focused on the tight knot in his silver and green diamond-patterned tie. 'I'm simply trying to do as Harry asked—'

'There's no need to go to this extreme.'

'Harry asked me to show you around,' she protested un
evenly. 'As I was about to say, I'm only trying to do what I was asked—'

'Why are you so angry?'

'I'm not.' She drew in a long breath, then lifted her eyes, braving his green inspection with what felt like rapidly dwindling courage. 'Or at least not the way you think,' she said stiltedly. 'But...I thought the least you would do is make sure the first time we met again was somewhere private.' The words came surging out of her in a rush.

'That was difficult for me, Luke. Very difficult. I was sick with nerves. The last thing in the world I wanted was to have to come up to you in a room full of other people and pretend to be full of jolly
bonhomie.
I'm sure you're very busy at present but still I'd have appreciated a little more consideration—'

'I didn't know about that reception,' he interrupted. 'The first I heard of it was when Harry sprang it on me this afternoon. I've only been in the country since Friday morning—'

'And now it's Monday evening!' she emphasised. 'And you've been in and out of the hospital dozens of times. Almost everyone's seen you—they've all been talking. I was here on Friday and I was home all weekend. I waited there deliberately, expecting you to call.'

'You could have found out where I was.'

'I'm not the one suddenly arriving out of the blue after six years,' she reminded him, her tone sharpening.

'I've already explained about the reception.' When her face stayed stony, he sighed. 'Annie, stop it. There's no need for this and I don't want to argue with you. This is awkward for me, too.'

'I doubt it.'

He gave a short, impatient sigh. 'I'm sorry tonight was hard for you but you're making it more difficult by playing childish games about how well you know me and by trying to provoke an argument—'

'By the way I prefer Annabel these days.' The sound of Luke's attractively deep voice using the abbreviated version roused unwelcome, disturbingly intimate memories, unsettling her when she most wanted to stay chillingly professional. 'Please.'

His mouth tightened fractionally but he let her plea pass without comment. 'I didn't even know you'd specialised in cardiology until Harry mentioned your name to me unexpectedly three months ago. As soon as I discovered you were on staff here I wrote immediately. Since you couldn't bring yourself to pen even a postcard reply, don't lose it because I've turned up. You had the opportunity to say you couldn't handle me here—'

'Oh, yes, and that would have made me hugely popular,' she responded. In his painfully formal letter he'd written that if she really felt they wouldn't be able to work together he would respect that and withdraw from the job. 'I had no choice,' she protested. 'You sent that letter after you'd signed your employment contract.'

'Contracts can be broken,' he countered irritably. 'Naturally, I would have had to explain you felt it would be impossible—'

'Turning me into a laughing stock,' she interjected. 'My life here would be unbearable if I did something like that. Getting you here is an enormous coup for St Peter's, Luke. They'll be crowing for years about it. The great Luke Geddes, Director of Clinical Cardiology and Professor of Medicine at Harvard University. You might think of yourself as an American but you trained here so you're still considered the local boy made good and a role model for us all to aspire to.

'Most of the physicians here are still reeling with shock you didn't pick up the Nobel medicine prize last year. Your name is whispered in hallowed voices around these parts. If it came down to a choice between losing you or me there wouldn't be a soul in the trust stupid enough to argue my feeble merits.'

'You're a gifted cardiologist—'

'Don't patronise me,' she snapped.

'I meant it,' he retorted, equally harshly. 'You've done well for yourself and you're still young. You've years ahead of you yet. From what I've heard since I've arrived, for a junior consultant you have an excellent reputation—'

'I'm a competent, diligent physician,' she interrupted, lowering her voice abruptly as a porter rounded the corner of the corridor ahead of them, bearing a broad, steel meals trolley. 'I'm a competent physician,' she repeated, striving for a more reasonable tone of voice lest they be overheard. 'Nothing more. But since we can't all be gifted geniuses, I've learned to live with my limitations. Now, can we just get on with the tour, please?'

His eyes had flashed at her bitter reference to him, terms she'd flung at him more than once in the past, but this time, for once, he let it pass.

They moved back against opposite walls of the corridor to allow the porter to pass freely, and when the trolley had moved away Luke was studying her speculatively, his regard sombre, his mood clearly now more subdued. 'It doesn't have to be like this, Annie.
Annabel
,' he added impatiently when her regard sharpened.

'And it won't be. It won't be like this.' Annabel dropped her head, letting out her breath in a long, weary sigh, mortified now as his words brought home to her the unpleasant truth that as usual she'd allowed her reaction to him to goad her into losing control.

She hadn't meant that to happen. She hadn't even imagined it could have. She'd been determined not to allow the past to spill over into the present, not when they now had to work together. For the sake of her own emotional health she meant to avoid him wherever possible, and when she couldn't she meant to keep relations carefully impersonal.

'I'm sorry,' she added dully. 'Tonight has gone... horribly wrong. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I meant to be...' she lifted her hands in a helpless sort of gesture, unsure how best to convey to him her apology was sincere '...controlled. I'm afraid it seems as if it's going to take a little bit of time for me to get used to you actually being around again. But, rest assured, I will do my best not to allow our past relationship to affect our work.'

The narrowing of his eyes suggested her little speech had surprised him. 'Where do you live now?'

She blinked, bemused by that. 'What?'

'I'll take you home.'

'No, thank you.' These last few minutes had proved how brittle her control was tonight and she certainly wasn't about to encourage more discussion. 'I have my own car. Besides, there's nothing to talk about—'

'A bar, a cafe if it has to be. Or I'm staying at a hotel until I have a chance to look for somewhere—'

'No!' She felt colour rushing into her face at the speculative look her outburst provoked. 'No,' she repeated, more reasonably this time. 'I've given this a great deal of thought since I heard about your appointment and I'm convinced it's a bad idea to make any attempt to rehash old memories. The past is the past. I think we should begin completely afresh with a new, purely professional relationship. As far as I'm aware, no one here knows about us so we can simply act as if we've never met before.'

'No one knows?' He seemed surprised. 'I realised pretty quickly poor old Harry hasn't a clue, but you mean you haven't told
anyone?'

'It's never seemed relevant to mention it.' When she'd changed hospitals to work at St Peter's it had been like starting afresh for her. She'd largely cut herself off from people they'd mixed with when she and Luke had been together. Not that that had been such a hardship since most of them had been Luke's friends really, rather than hers. 'I'm sure there're people still working at the Free who remember,' she reflected, 'but, as far as I know, no one here knows.'

'And you're expecting me to keep it a secret now?'

'Not a secret.' She didn't want him to he to anyone, but surely asking him not to volunteer the information wasn't such an imposition? 'But I don't see that one failed little marriage years ago is anyone's business but ours. You know what this place is like. People are friendly but they also talk. It'll cause unpleasant gossip-—'

'A nine-minute wonder.' Luke made an impatient noise. 'So what? You're nuts, Annabel.' He sounded very American. 'You're acting as though it's a big deal and it isn't. Couples divorce all the time. Doctors especially. Nobody's going to judge either of us. Pretending it never happened is only making it look more significant than it was.'

'And, of course, you don't consider it at all significant in your life,' she said tightly. 'To you I was simply an inconvenience—'

'I didn't say that.' Six years ago he would have flared, as she just had, at that, and they would have rowed, inevitably they'd have rowed, but now his tone remained entirely reasonable. 'Don't put words into my mouth. I never liked it before and I don't like it now.'

'Then perhaps you'll understand how I feel when I say I don't like being gossiped about,' she countered dully, lowering her head and jerking her rebellious thoughts away from the intrusive recall of the powerful way they'd invariably made up after their fights. Until the last one, of course, when there'd been no making up. He hadn't even been in the country for the divorce. His recent letter, confirming his new appointment and containing nothing in the way of personal greetings or good wishes, had been the first communication between them in years.