the fingers strong and the mind sharp.”
“Do you crochet, then?”
“Good lord, no.”
“Then who told you that crocheting keeps the fingers strong and the mind sharp?”
“My grandmother, but then again she was a bit batty.”
Geri couldn’t help but smile. “So what do you do, then?”
“I paint.”
Now she was intrigued. “What do you paint?”
“Nudes mostly.” And he waggled his eyebrows at her over his surgical mask. She couldn’t help but laugh along with the others in the room.
Frederick would never joke like this.
It was beneath him and Geri found herself liking this laid-back camaraderie. There was a light in the darkness of a serious surgery.
“I read a study once that said patients, although under general anesthesia, are aware of what is going on around them. Subconsciously. Better outcomes when the surgeon is happy.”
Thomas stared at her and she regretted opening her mouth. Was he going to berate her again?
“I heard that too. And I believe it.” He returned to his work and Geri watched him. Thomas was just as impressive as she’d always thought he would be.
Thomas laid down his instruments. “Dr. Fellowes, would you close up for me?”
“Yes, Mr. Ashwood.” Dr. Fellowes stepped into the lead surgeon spot and began to close up the patient.
Thomas moved past her to the scrub room and Geraldine followed him as he peeled off his gloves, mask and surgical gown, placing them in the receptacle, before he began to scrub his hands.
Geraldine did the same.
“That was textbook surgery, if I do say so myself.” There was a smug, satisfied smile plastered across Thomas’s face.
“I’m glad it went so well.”
“Well, the surgery went well. The next twenty-four hours will tell me the entire picture.” Thomas dried his hands. “It’s still touch and go. Recovery will be the key to success or failure.”
“Will I see you tomorrow at the office?” Geri asked.
“No,” he said. “I plan to stay close to Lord Twinsbury tonight. I will be monitoring him in the intensive care unit.”
“Is it because he’s a family friend or do you do that for all your patients?” She was teasing, she didn’t really expect such a high-class surgeon to remain by his patient’s bedside. Especially an elderly one like Lord Twinsbury, who, given his health, probably wouldn’t have much of a shot of pulling through.
“All of them. Every last one.”
She was stunned and was positive her mouth was hanging open by the way he grinned at her.
“Have a good evening, Dr. Collins.”
Geri watched him walk down the hall. She shook her head. Every time she tried to fit Mr. Ashwood into a certain slot in her mind, he completely and utterly didn’t fit.
And just as she’d surmised before, he was a danger.
A very sexy, tempting danger that she wanted no part of.
* * *
“You took the tube again didn’t you?”
Geri hung up her coat on the coatrack in her father’s office. “Well, you didn’t wake me when Jensen took you to work.”
“You got in late. I thought you’d appreciate the lie-in.”
She had actually. “Yes, but today is clinic day. How am I supposed to get to know my new patients if I spend half the morning in bed?”
“Why didn’t you call Jensen to bring you in?” her father asked. He sounded tense, as if he’d been worrying about her the whole time. Which was nice, but unwarranted. She was an adult.
“The Westway is jam-packed or didn’t you hear about that?” she asked.
“Jensen could’ve taken the Bayswater Road. The Westway is always jam-packed at this time of day.”
“I’m quite used to taking public transportation.”
“I know, Geraldine, but your situation is different now.” He returned to his work.
She took a seat in front of her father. “And how is it different? I still am the same person and no one knows me from Adam.”
“You’re a lady of means. An heiress,” he said, not looking up.
Geri wrinkled her nose. “I’m a doctor.”
Her father ran a hand through his hair and then sighed. “You’re just as stubborn as your mother.”
Geri shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Though she really didn’t think it was much of a compliment as she didn’t want much association or comparison with her mother.
“Hmm.” Her father then pulled out a cream-colored envelope and handed it to her. “You’ve been invited to your first social gathering.”
She took the envelope and stared at the fancy calligraphy. “What’s it for?”
“It’s for a party after the London International Horse Show. We’ve both been invited. It’s formal attire as the Duke of Weatherstone has been invited. You know he’s in the line of royal succession.”
Geri cocked her eyebrows and stared at the invitation. “How do I turn it down?”
“You can’t turn it down.”
“Why not?” she asked, flipping it over. “It’s for this weekend.”
“And what plans do you have for this weekend?”
She shrugged. “Christmas shopping.”
“You’re going. I’ve already told our hostess we’d be attending. Besides, it’s a good way to get to know some of our patients. A lot of them will be there.”
Before she could argue there was a knock at the door and Thomas stuck his head in. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he’d been up all night, but that didn’t deter from his general svelte and put-together appearance.
Good lord, he was handsome and a brilliant surgeon to boot.
Why did he have to look so good?
He’s off-limits. Off. Limits.
“Am I interrupting?” Thomas asked.
Yes.
“No, Thomas, come in,” Charles said.
Thomas opened the door and came in, jamming his hands in his finely tailored trouser pockets. “I wanted to report that Lord Twinsbury made it through the night.”
Her father nodded and smiled. “That’s excellent news.”
“Wonderful,” she said.
Thomas glanced at her briefly, his gaze landing on the cream-colored envelope. “Ah, I see the invitations for the Gileses’ party have arrived.”
“Yes, apparently the Duke of Weatherstone will be there,” Geri teased.
A strange look passed across his face. “Well, I can tell you who won’t be there—Lord Twinsbury. He’ll still be in hospital for another week at least. At least he’s out of the intensive care unit, but he’s demanding to see his cardiologist.”
Her father sighed. “I’ll get Jensen to bring the car round.”
“No, Charles. He wants the good-looking one.” Thomas grinned at her. “He’s