Joanna Neil - Playboy Under the Mistletoe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover Page

Title Page Playboy Under the Mistletoe Joanna Neil www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author When JOANNA NEIL discovered Mills & Boon®, her lifelong addiction to reading crystallised into an exciting new career writing Medical™ Romance. Her characters are probably the outcome of her varied lifestyle, which includes working as a clerk, typist, nurse and infant teacher. She enjoys dressmaking and cooking at her Leicestershire home. Her family includes a husband, son and daughter, an exuberant yellow Labrador and two slightly crazed cockatiels. She currently works with a team of tutors at her local education centre, to provide creative writing workshops for people interested in exploring their own writing ambitions.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

When JOANNA NEILdiscovered Mills & Boon®, her lifelong addiction to reading crystallised into an exciting new career writing Medical™ Romance. Her characters are probably the outcome of her varied lifestyle, which includes working as a clerk, typist, nurse and infant teacher. She enjoys dressmaking and cooking at her Leicestershire home. Her family includes a husband, son and daughter, an exuberant yellow Labrador and two slightly crazed cockatiels. She currently works with a team of tutors at her local education centre, to provide creative writing workshops for people interested in exploring their own writing ambitions.

WHY on earth had she agreed to do this? Jasmine risked a glance down from the lofty platform of the metal fire tower and immediately regretted it. Just looking out from that height made her feel dizzy, and it didn’t help that the eager crowd watching from below were way too far away for their faces to be seen clearly. At this rate, with nausea and vertigo both coming into play, she’d very soon be a patient for real, instead of simply acting the part.

‘You’ll be fine,’ Mike had said, in cheerful mood after he had persuaded her to take part. ‘You’re used to walking the fells in the Lake District, aren’t you? And I recall you said you had attempted to climb Scafell Pike and Helvellyn, so this should be no problem at all. We’re demonstrating a crag rescue here, and you know how that goes. Forget that this looks like a scaffolding structure. Just imagine that you’re stranded on Scafell Pike, and everything will drop into place.’

Jasmine winced at his choice of words. Right now, the notion of anything dropping anywhere was enough to make her stomach plunge all over again. Not that Mike had any qualms about this venture. He was a coordinator for the various mountain rescue teams in this part of the country, and of course he would have very few concerns about the exercise.

‘It’s not at all the same,’ she had protested. ‘I had time to prepare for those and they didn’t present me with a sheer, vertical face…not the bits I attempted, anyway.’ She had shuddered. ‘I can’t think why I let you talk me into it.’

Mike had chuckled. Determinedly optimistic, he had urged her towards the base of the tower and coaxed her up the ladder to begin the ascent, following close behind her.

Which was why she was stuck here now, alone on the topmost platform, pretending to be someone who was lying injured on a crag. Lying injured…The words struck a chord of memory, and she recalled what Mike had said. ‘Flail your arms around a bit and cry out for help. The crowd will love that. Then sink to your knees and pretend to topple over. After that, all you have to do is lie still and let the rescue team do the rest.’

So that’s what she would do…anything to get this over and done with. She would perform her heart out for the crowd of people who were watching the rescue demonstration from the safety of the fire station’s courtyard.

She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to keep warm. It was not the best of times to be carrying out this operation—a freezing cold December day, with a smattering of snow in the air and the wind buffeting her from all angles.

It was also the final day of her course, marking the end of her week-long stay at the luxurious nearby hotel, and maybe if she lay down and thought about the comforting lounge waiting back there, with its logburning fire, and the delicious cocktails or the aromatic pot of hot coffee that the waitress would bring, it would take away some of the stress of her present situation.

With that in mind, she went into her act with a bit more enthusiasm. ‘Help,’ she shouted, waving her arms and pretending to stumble. ‘Help me, someone, please, help me. My leg’s broken.’

Then she sank to the floor of the platform and waited for her rescuer to arrive.

It wasn’t long before she heard sounds of activity coming from the ground below, along with the clink of chains and pulleys, and then, finally, she felt the thud of movement as someone began climbing the tower.

The whole edifice seemed to judder as her rescuer approached, but perhaps it was her overwrought imagination playing tricks on her. The tower was solidly based, wasn’t it? It would not topple.

Even so, a faint film of perspiration broke out on her brow. The nausea began to return in full force and she muttered a few curses that should have had Mike squirming in his boots if he’d been anywhere near.

‘Whatever did Mike do to deserve all that vitriol?’ a deep, male voice enquired, the tone threaded with a hint of amusement. ‘Letting loose a plague on him is kind of overkill, don’t you think?’

‘You wouldn’t say so if you were in my shoes,’ she retorted, sucking in a sharp breath. ‘I could have been watching all this from a safe distance if it weren’t for him. I could even have slipped away out of the cold and gone back to the hotel to enjoy a glass of something laced with a warming dash of brandy.’

‘You can still do that.’ The man swung his legs over the metal rail and dropped down onto the platform beside her. He hauled a metal basket stretcher over the bar, and placed it down on the platform floor. Then he looked at her, taking in her pale features, and in an instant the smile on his face became transfixed, very much as though he had suddenly found himself locked in a time warp.

‘Jasmine?’ The word was a soft breath of sound. ‘Is it really you?’ His gaze was fastened on her, his eyes widening as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

She stared back at him. ‘Ben?’ All at once she couldn’t breathe. What was he doing here? What did he have to do with the rescue services, and how was it that she should run into him again after all this time?

‘How long has it been?’ he asked, echoing her thoughts. ‘Five years?’

‘Something like that.’ She frowned. Her jaw was locked in a spasm of disbelief and shock was beginning to set in. She had never imagined that she would ever see him again, but here he was, in the flesh, and even after all the years that had gone by, it was clear that he still had the ability to make her heart pound and cause the air in her lungs to be constricted.

He hadn’t changed at all. He was as ruggedly handsome as ever, his black hair neatly cropped to outline his sculpted features, those blue eyes ever watchful and his mouth beautifully expressive, just as she remembered.

‘You’re down here to take part in one of the courses being run at the Royal Pennant Hotel, I take it? I’ve been speaking to a few of the people who were attending the medical seminars.’ He had come out of his reverie and had snapped back into action in an instant, beginning to prepare the metal cradle to receive its patient.

It wasn’t so easy for Jasmine to get back into the swing of things, but she made an effort. ‘That’s right. “Critical Care and The Role of the First Responder”.’ This last day was taken up with the activities of the emergency services, and although it wasn’t an essential part of her course, she had stayed on to get a better idea of what was involved. It was already on the cards that one of these days her job with A and E might involve her going out on call. In fact, up until now the idea of doing that had been quite appealing.

‘We’d better slide you onto this stretcher and get you strapped in,’ Ben said, becoming businesslike. ‘People will be wondering what’s going on.’

How had he managed to return to his customary efficiency within a matter of minutes? She felt oddly disgruntled. It hadn’t taken him long to get over his astonishment at seeing her again, had it? But, then, why should she expect him to be affected in any way by meeting up with her? He had made his final break with the village five years ago, leaving without so much as a backward glance, and why should it matter to him that he had left her nursing a bruised and battered heart?

He frowned, glancing at her briefly. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ She wasn’t going to let him in on any of her thoughts. Far better that he should remain in blissful ignorance. Ben Radcliffe had the power to unsettle her without even trying, and she had discovered long ago that her only defence against him was to keep her feelings locked away inside her.

She shivered a little as soft flakes of snow began to drift around her, settling here and there on her jacket. ‘Shouldn’t there be someone else up here with you, doing this work?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘The powers that be planned this as a one-man rescue…for places where there is restricted access. So I’m on my own. But, no matter…I’ll splint the broken leg and lift you into the cradle as gently as I can.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘It shouldn’t be too difficult. If I remember correctly, you were always a slip of a girl. It doesn’t look as if things have changed very much.’

She frowned. How could he tell? She was wearing a waterproof jacket over a warm woollen sweater and snug-fitting denim jeans. For extra warmth she had added an Angora scarf. She wished she could pull it up over her face so that she could hide away from him, very much like an infant who imagined that with her eyes covered she could not be seen. She didn’t want him reading her thoughts and dragging her vulnerabilities out into the open after all this time.

‘Are you still living at the cottage?’ he asked, deftly strapping splints into place. For extra security, he bound both of her legs together.

‘Yes, I am. I never left Woodsley Bridge. I suppose I was fortunate in that I was able to do most of my medical training at the local hospital.’ That had been the perfect option for her, but it hadn’t done for Ben, had it? He’d started his medical tuition at a prestigious teaching hospital in Carlisle, some eighty miles away from Woodsley, coming home whenever he’d had a few days off just to make sure that his grandmother was all right. Even after she’d died, he’d come back to Mill House once in a while to keep an eye on things, but in the end, when other opportunities had beckoned, he couldn’t wait to leave the village behind once and for all.

He glanced at her briefly. ‘You always did love being home and having your family close by, didn’t you?’ His mouth made a bleak downward turn, but it was there only for an instant, so fleeting that she might have imagined it. His good humour was restored almost at once. ‘Let’s get you onto the stretcher, shall we?’