The Seduction Challenge

Joel was stunned by his own reaction to her plight

Over the years he thought he’d experienced every emotion it was possible to feel for the opposite sex—except love, of course—but he’d never felt this overwhelming need to protect a woman before.

Until now.

But with Lucy looking up at him with those huge green eyes he suddenly understood why his brothers had been so ridiculously protective of her. There was something about her. A gentleness—a vulnerability—that made you want to hunt for a dragon just so you could slay it.

Dear Reader,

Most of us know someone who has had a relationship with a real louse. Recovering from that can be an uphill struggle, especially when there’s a child involved. So how do you move on and let yourself trust someone new?

Well, it certainly helps when the man in question is as sexy and persistent as my hero, Joel. A woman hasn’t said no to him yet, and he isn’t about to start with Lucy! Seeing her struggling to bring up her little boy alone, he even agrees to be her friend, a role that he’s never played before. But of course the chemistry between them is so strong that this is one relationship that is never going to end in just friendship.

This book is for all the women out there who think that they’ll never find someone else.

Stick with it. He’s out there somewhere.

Warmly,

Sarah

The Seduction Challenge

Sarah Morgan

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER ONE

‘PLEASE, Mrs Lambert,’ Lucy coaxed gently, ‘just try it for me?’

‘But I’ve hardly any breath now, dear,’ the old lady wheezed. ‘How can I possibly puff into that? It’ll kill me!’

Lucy held the peak-flow meter and smiled. ‘Just breathe in and then blow out sharply, like this…’ She gave a quick demonstration and changed the mouthpiece. ‘Now you have a go.’

‘But why?’ Mrs Lambert took the device from Lucy and looked at it doubtfully. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘This little machine helps us to measure how well your lungs are.’ Lucy explained patiently, nothing in her manner betraying the fact that this was the fourth time she’d given the same explanation to the old woman.

‘Oh.’ Mrs Lambert looked surprised. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so before?’

Lucy smothered a smile and pulled the top off her pen ready to record the results. ‘Blow when you’re ready, Mrs Lambert.’

Behind her the door opened and she turned to see Richard Whittaker, the senior partner, hovering in the doorway. Grey-haired and kindly, he looked at Mrs Lambert and gave a discreet thumbs-up sign. Lucy smiled and read the result of the peak-flow meter.

‘Well done, Mrs Lambert,’ she said warmly. ‘Twice more now. I need the best of three.’

‘Three? I’ll be in my grave, girl!’ Mrs Lambert looked horrified and turned to Richard with a small smile. ‘She’s a slave-driver, this new nurse of yours.’

‘I know.’ Richard Whittaker folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door, his expression sympathetic. ‘We all suffer, I’m afraid. She bullies us unmercifully. I should just give in, if I were you. That’s what we doctors do.’

Mrs Lambert gave a dramatic sigh and then blew sharply into the meter.

Lucy recorded the results and handed them to Richard with a pleased smile. ‘They’re not bad. Especially considering all the talking you’ve done since you came in here…’ she gave the old lady a teasing wink and Mrs Lambert laughed.

‘You’re a cheeky girl!’

Richard studied the results and then glanced up. ‘She’s right, you know. These results are good, Annie. We’ve been monitoring them regularly now, which helps us make a decision about your treatment. I don’t think we need alter anything at the moment but make sure you keep using the puffers.’

Annie Lambert’s mouth tightened. ‘I really don’t see why I need to. I feel fine.’

‘You have asthma, Mrs Lambert. You feel fine because you’ve been taking your puffers,’ Lucy explained, and the old lady sighed.

‘It’s a load of nonsense. How can I have asthma? I’m seventy years old, for goodness’ sake. Children get asthma, not adults!’

‘Adults get it too, Annie.’ Richard gave her a worried look. ‘We’ve explained it before, but we’ll explain it again if—’

‘No, no—’ Annie Lambert interrupted him with an impatient gesture. ‘You keep going on about puffers and blowing and all sorts of nonsense. I don’t want to listen to it any more. It’s boring.’

Lucy smiled. ‘It is pretty boring, isn’t it? And the good thing about remembering to take your puffers is that they keep you well so that you can then forget about the fact that you have asthma.’

‘I take the one regularly,’ Annie said primly, picking up her handbag and slipping it onto her arm. ‘And then the other one when I’m in a spot of trouble, but I must admit I feel pretty breathless sometimes.’

‘That’s as much your heart condition as your asthma,’ Richard explained gently, handing the chart back to Lucy. ‘We’ve increased the dose of your tablets now, so hopefully that should do the trick.’

‘I hope so,’ Annie said, her smile slightly tired, ‘or there’s no way I’ll be running the marathon next year.’

‘You’ll be the first over the finishing line,’ Lucy teased gently, her eyes twinkling as she helped the old lady into the waiting room. ‘Bye, Mrs Lambert. I’ll see you next month unless you need me before that.’

She walked back to the treatment room, surprised to find Richard still there.

‘She’s doing well, isn’t she?’ She pulled the mouthpiece out of the peak-flow meter and tossed it in the bin, carefully placing the device back on her asthma tray ready for the next time it would be needed.

Richard adjusted his metal-rimmed glasses and nodded. ‘Amazingly so. You’re a miracle-worker. I could never persuade her to blow into “that infernal machine”, as she calls it. Your asthma clinic works a treat.’

Lucy smiled briefly, embarrassed by the praise. ‘It’s only because I have more time than you.’

Richard snorted. ‘No, it’s not! Sometimes I think you’re the busiest person in the place. You’ve got the touch, that’s all,’ he said softly, his eyes suddenly searching as he looked at her. ‘But I didn’t really want to talk about Annie Lambert. I wanted to talk about you. You’ve been with us for a month now. I want to know how you are.’

Lucy gave him a grateful smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quietly, touched that he cared enough to ask.

‘Fine?’ Richard gave a curious smile and walked across the room to stare out of the window. ‘Do you know, I’ve decided over the years that I hate that word?’ he observed. ‘It doesn’t say anything about how a person is really feeling.’

Lucy stared at him, wondering what else to say.

She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. That deep inside she hurt so badly she could barely breathe. That she was lonely and sad and that sometimes her fear of the future was so intense it threatened to choke her.

She’d felt that way for a whole year, ever since—

With a sigh, she pushed the memories away. She’d long since made it a rule not to think about her problems at work, but if the senior partner was asking how she was then maybe she wasn’t doing such a great job at hiding her feelings.

Or maybe something else was the matter…

A flicker of anxiety ran through her insides. ‘Is something wrong?’ She searched her mind for possibilities. ‘I know it’s awkward for you that I have to finish work at three, and—’

‘Lucy, Lucy—’ Richard interrupted her gently, and walked slowly towards her, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? Your contribution to this practice is immeasurable. None of us care about you having to finish work at three. I’m not asking how you are because I have any professional concerns. My interest was completely personal. Elizabeth is worried about you and frankly so am I.’

He ran his eyes over her quickly and his mouth tightened. ‘You look tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?’

She opened her mouth to deny it and then realised the futility of it. The man was a doctor, for goodness’ sake.

‘Sometimes,’ she hedged, ‘but I’m all right, truly. I love it here.’

It was true—she did love it.

Moving to this pretty part of Cornwall was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.

Richard’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know, I could give you something to help with the sleeping.’

‘No.’ She shook her head, horrified at the suggestion. ‘Thank you, but, no. I prefer not to.’

What was the point?

The sadness would still be there when she woke up.

Hoping to change the subject, she picked up a dressing pack and tidied it away in the cupboard. ‘By the way, those new dressing packs we ordered are great. Much less wastage than the old ones. It should save the practice a significant amount of money in the long run.’

‘Lucy, I don’t care about the dressing packs!’ Richard ran both hands through his hair in frustration. ‘Well, I do care, of course,’ he corrected himself quickly, ‘but not at the moment. Stop working and sit down, will you? I can’t talk to you while you’re moving around the room.’

Resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let the subject drop, Lucy did as she was told.

‘How are you finding the flat?’

‘Fantastic,’ she replied immediately. ‘I’ve never lived anywhere so beautiful.’

It was true. After living in a cramped, damp flat in the grey suburbs of London, the spacious, airy flat with views over the harbour was straight out of her fantasies.

Richard adjusted his glasses and peered at her. ‘But you’re not meeting people.’

‘I meet people through my work,’ she pointed out quickly, and he gave a wry smile.

‘That isn’t exactly what I meant.’

She stared down at her hands, wondering why it was that everyone thought that the cure for a broken relationship was a new one. ‘I know what you meant and believe me when I say that meeting men isn’t high on my list of priorities at the moment.’

And she couldn’t imagine that it ever would be.

He nodded slowly. ‘I can understand why you feel that way, but give it time, Lucy, and you’ll feel differently. Sooner or later you need to get out there and build a new life.’

Did she?

How?

She had no experience in starting relationships. She’d known Tim since she was six years old and had always assumed that one day they’d get married. She’d just never imagined that it wouldn’t last for ever.

The whole concept of meeting and dating men—strangers—was completely alien to her.

‘I wish you’d join Elizabeth and me for a meal one day,’ Richard was saying. ‘We’d love to have you.’

Lucy smiled gently. ‘Dr Whittaker, you have been unbelievably kind to me since we met. I was a total stranger to you but you gave me a part-time job when you needed a full-time nurse, and you let me have a flat rent-free—’

‘You’re doing us a favour, living in it during the winter. There are no tourists at this time of year,’ Richard reminded her, ‘so it’s sitting empty.’

Lucy fiddled with the material of her uniform. ‘What I mean is that you’ve been extraordinarily generous. You don’t need to feed me as well.’

He frowned. ‘But you do cook for yourself in the evening?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said quickly, wondering if cereal and toast counted as cooking. It didn’t matter. She owed the Whittakers so much already, she certainly didn’t intend to impose on their kindness any more than she had to.

Richard looked at her regretfully. ‘Well, if you change your mind, you only have to ask. By the way, I wanted to remind you that my younger son is arriving today. I did mention that he would be joining the practice?’

‘Several times.’ Relieved that he’d changed the subject, Lucy hooked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and hid a smile. Richard’s pride in his youngest son was obvious to all. ‘I can’t believe all three of your sons are doctors.’

‘And they’ve all descended on my practice!’ Richard pulled a sorrowful face but Lucy knew that it was just for show. The Whittakers were closer than any family she’d ever met, and even in the brief time that she’d worked for them she’d seen that having a family practice worked well. Michael and Nick, the two sons she’d been working with for the past month, were both skilled doctors and clearly respected each other. There was none of the rivalry and pettiness that was reputed to taint other practices.

‘So when does your youngest son start officially?’

‘As soon as he sets foot inside the door,’ Richard said dryly. ‘We’re rushed off our feet, as you know. He’s arriving just in time for the flu season. Anyway, I’ll introduce you as soon as he arrives because he’ll be doing quite a few of the clinics with you. What are you doing at lunchtime? Are you around?’

Lucy hesitated, not sure whether to confess or not. ‘Actually, I’m going to see Ivy Williams,’ she said finally, honesty prevailing, as always. ‘I’m really worried about her. I saw her last week to dress her leg and she was very quiet. People keep telling me that since Bert died a month ago she’s barely left the house.’

That was the advantage of a small community, she reflected. There was always someone who was going to notice that you were in trouble.

‘Ivy?’ Richard’s face softened but his eyes were concerned. ‘That’s kind of you, but don’t get too involved, Lucy. You can’t solve everyone’s problems.’

‘I know that,’ Lucy said, her green eyes gentle and kind. ‘But she’s lost her partner and she must be so lost and lonely…’

And she knew only too well how that felt.

‘Well, let me know how she is,’ Richard said, walking towards the door and giving her a smile. ‘You’re a kind girl, Lucy, and we’re lucky to have you.’

But nowhere near as lucky as she was to have them.

Lucy watched Richard go and then grabbed her coat and made her way across the car park, noticing with relief that someone had sprinkled grit on the surface. Just as well, she reflected, shivering as the cold air numbed her cheeks and fingers, otherwise all their patients would be slipping and sliding and breaking bones before they reached the surgery.

Even for early January it was bitterly cold, and she blew on her hands to warm them and forced her mind back to her work.

What was she going to do about Ivy? She was truly worried about her, rattling around in that big house on her own.

The problem nagged her brain as she drove carefully along the coast road, and she was still thinking about it when she heard a hideous squeal of tyres followed by a sickening crash.

What…?

Instinctively she pumped her brake pedal, slowing her car gradually as she approached the bend in the road.

There’d been an accident.

She rounded the corner, her heart racing as she braced herself for what she might see.

Her fingers tightened on the wheel and she started to shake as she saw the twisted wreckage of a car embedded in a tree. And then she saw the motorbike.

‘Oh, no…’

Her heart thumping uncontrollably, she pulled her car over onto the grass verge, put on her hazard warning lights and sprinted across to the wreckage. The front of the car was badly mangled, and next to it lay a pile of twisted metal that had once been a motorbike. She was shaking with reaction as she looked frantically for the rider.

Where was he?

She muttered a denial as she finally located his body metres away in the grass. How could he possibly have survived?

Staring in horror at his still body, she felt panic numb her brain and for precious seconds she stood frozen, unable to move a muscle. But then the cold winter air flowed under her coat, bringing her to her senses.

After the sickening noise of the crash the air was still and silent, and it was as if she were the only person in the whole world.

But fortunately she wasn’t.

Sounds of a car approaching cut through the frozen silence and Lucy waved her arms frantically as it appeared round the bend.

The car slowed and then came to a halt and a young couple climbed out, picking their way along the icy road

Seeing the danger immediately, Lucy sprinted towards them, her feet slipping on the frozen tarmac. ‘Reverse your car!’

The man looked at her blankly and the woman just stared in horror at the mangled motorbike, her hand over her mouth.

Lucy gestured towards the road. ‘This is a blind bend,’ she said urgently, ‘And there are obviously patches of black ice. If anyone else comes round here too fast there’ll be another accident. Reverse your car and put the hazard warning lights on so that people will see you and slow down.’

‘Gotcha.’ The young man suddenly seemed to pull himself together and dashed back to do as Lucy had ordered.

Aware that the next priority was to summon help, she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and rammed it into the young woman’s hand.

‘We need to get some help fast. Take a deep breath,’ Lucy ordered firmly, hoping she sounded more in control than she felt. ‘I’m a nurse and I’ll deal with the accident, but I need you to call 999. Can you do that? Give them our location and tell them that there’s a car and a motorbike involved.’

The woman nodded mutely and Lucy gave her shoulder a squeeze.

‘Good. Quickly, then…’

Feeling slightly better, knowing that help would soon be on the way, she ran back towards the car, hoping that she wouldn’t have to hold the fort by herself for long.

One glance into the car showed her that there was just the driver and one passenger.

‘Tell them two in the car,’ she yelled over her shoulder, hoping that the young woman had managed to contact the ambulance service.

Although the doors had been jammed in the crash, she managed to shout through the windows.

‘Get us out! Get us out!’ The woman was clawing frantically at the door and Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the still figure of the motorcyclist, trying to remember what she’d learned about triage. Surely he had to be her priority. The two in the car were conscious. Or was he beyond help? In which case, she needed to rescue the two in the car.

With a whimper of panic she turned back to the couple in the car and gestured to the sun roof, suggesting that they try and open it. Then she turned her attention to the motorcyclist.

She had to assess his injuries. If he was dead, then the couple in the car became the priority, but if he wasn’t…

Oh, please, God, don’t let him be dead.

Her heart thumping, her feet crunched on the frozen grass and she dropped to her knees next to his body, trying to subdue the panic that was bubbling up inside her. It had been years since she’d done any A and E work and even then it had only been when she’d been training. But she knew the principles, she reminded herself firmly. ABC. Airway, breathing, circulation.

The cold from the ground oozed up and numbed her knees, but she didn’t even notice.

‘The ambulance is on its way.’ The young man was back by her side. ‘Here, let me help you take his helmet off.’

‘No!’ Lucy reached out a hand to stop him touching the injured motorcyclist, her voice sharper than she’d intended. ‘You should never remove the helmet unless breathing is compromised. The helmet is supporting his neck and if we take it off…’

She wasn’t qualified to help this man.

She was a practice nurse, for goodness’ sake, not a paramedic.

Airway—she had to check his airway.

She leaned closer and just at that moment the man groaned and muttered something.

Lucy let out a long breath. He was talking. Surely that had to be a good sign?

‘Hello? Can you tell me where it hurts?’

She cringed as she listened to herself. What a stupid question to ask someone who’d been thrown from a bike. It probably hurt everywhere…

‘Leg.’

Leg.

Lucy ran her eyes down his legs and saw the nasty gash in the leathers and the mass of blood gathering there. She wrenched off her gloves and thrust them into her pocket, her fingers shifting the leathers so that she could take a closer look.

Blood spurted into the air.

‘Oh, no!’ She pressed down on the leg hard and turned to the man from the car, noticing that he was looking slightly green. She felt slightly green, too. She’d never seen such a severe laceration. Despite the protection of the leathers, his thigh had been badly torn, presumably because he’d been thrown across the tarmac. ‘You need to go to my car, quickly. Fetch the bag on the back seat.’

‘And don’t pass out on me,’ she muttered under her breath as she watched him go.

The motorcyclist moaned again and tried to move.

‘Try and keep still,’ Lucy said urgently, wishing that she could hold his hand to reassure him. Unfortunately, both her hands were occupied in preventing him from bleeding to death. ‘You’re going to be just fine. I’m a nurse and there’s an ambulance on the way. Everything is going to be fine…’

She said it to reassure herself as much as him, and she reflected briefly on the ridiculous things people said when they were trying to reassure each other.

Everything was far from fine.

‘Here’s your bag.’ The young man was back beside her, looking at her expectantly.

She almost laughed aloud. Did he expect her bag to contain magic powers?

Weighed down by the knowledge that everyone was depending on her, she glanced over her shoulder towards the road, desperately praying that the ambulance would arrive quickly, but there was nothing but an eerie winter silence.

Which meant that the man’s life depended on her and the very inadequate contents of her practice nurse’s bag.

Lucy glanced down at her hands, which were slippery with the man’s blood. There was no way she could let go.

‘Inside the side pockets you’ll find some sterile dressing pads,’ she instructed, noticing that underneath the helmet the injured man was ghostly pale. He was losing a lot of blood and needed some fluids fast.

And she didn’t have any—what else should she do?

Elevate the bleeding part—but what with?

This situation was way beyond her experience. And well beyond a few dressing pads.

Where on earth was the ambulance?

Her heart still thudding, Lucy snatched the pads from the young man and pressed down on the wound again.

‘There should be a bandage in there, too,’ she muttered. She had to stem the bleeding and she really ought to take another look at the two in the car.

‘Do you need help?’

The deep voice came from behind her and she turned her head, blinking at the raw, male power of the man in front of her. Black leathers outlined broad, muscular shoulders and long, powerful legs. Another motorcyclist?

He dragged off his helmet, revealing cropped dark hair and a pair of cool blue eyes that took in the situation in one glance. He dropped to his haunches and his face was close enough for her to see the dark growth shadowing the line of his hard jaw. He obviously hadn’t shaved recently. She frowned at her own thoughts and shook herself. Someone’s life was at risk and she was wondering when this man had last shaved?

Was she going completely mad?

It must be the shock.

‘Did you see it happen?’ His sharp tone brought her quickly back to the present and she shook her head.

‘No. But from the damage to the front of the car I guess it must have hit him.’ She tried to stop her teeth chattering. ‘The roads are very icy.’