Prognosis Incompatible

argument. The pungent aroma of coffee hit her and her stomach growled. Madeline realised she hadn’t eaten since breakfast on the plane. She took the polystyrene cup.
He handed Brett a cold can of soft drink and sat down beside her. They drank in silence, Madeline desperately trying to quell the frisson of awareness just sitting next to Marcus was causing. Their arms occasionally brushed and she was awake again. Fully, completely awake.
Pull yourself together, she lectured herself. He is unavailable. So are you, or you will be again soon anyway. And you’re going to squash this man like an ant on Monday — you don’t want to be lusting after him as you’re giving him his marching orders. The thought kept her focussed and a smile curved across her full mouth as Madeline imagined the look on his face as she handed him the notice of eviction.
The fantasy was marred by a sudden pang of guilt. They may not see eye to eye on treatment methodologies but he was an actual doctor and obviously very skilled, and had helped her tonight without question, despite her previous hostile threats.
‘Plotting my demise, Maddy?’
His low growl in her ear caused a riot of sensations to surge through her. Startled that he could so accurately read her thoughts, she turned to face him, composing her features to disguise her inner turmoil. ‘How did you guess?’ she parried lightly.
‘Maddy, Maddy.’ He laughed and stroked the dark stubble on his jaw. ‘Don’t ever play poker.’
Madeline followed the caress intently, sidetracked by sudden wanton thoughts of his stubble brushing against her skin. Her nipples hardened and, as she watched him, his eyes widened and his hand stilled at her blatant arousal.
She stared for an age, caught in his intense blue gaze. The bustle of hospital life continued around them, oblivious to the sexual energy arcing between them.
‘Dr Harrington.’
A young nurse interrupted. Madeline blinked and looked at her in a slightly disorientated fashion. ‘Y-yes?’
‘Mrs Sanders has just gone up to Intensive Care.’
‘Oh,’ said Madeline, pulling herself together, ‘Thanks, we’ll go right up.’
The nurse’s attention, however, had strayed to Marcus. She was smiling at him, an invitation in her eyes. Marcus winked at her and Madeline rolled her eyes. Thank goodness she’d never been a slave to her hormones. How did people get things done? Stay focussed? Function?
She left him to it, taking Brett to see his mother and waiting with him until his father arrived, leaving shortly after. She was surprised to see Marcus lounging at the nurse’s desk, waiting for her, but was unsurprised to hear the tinkle of laughter as two more nurses fell under the skater boy’s charm.
‘I’ll give you a lift home,’ he said, straightening as she approached.
‘I’ll get an Uber,’ she threw over her shoulder as she walked past him.
‘Don’t be silly, Maddy,’ he said, in a voice that made her feel like a disobedient child. ‘You look exhausted. Do you know how long it’s going to take to get an Uber on a Saturday evening?’
She stopped walking and sighed. He was right and she was tired, so very tired. What could it hurt? She nodded her assent. He raised his eyebrows at her, obviously not expecting such easy capitulation, but she was just too exhausted to care.
A few minutes later Madeline eyed the fire-engine red MG convertible doubtfully. ‘This is yours?’
‘Yes,’ he smiled lazily.
‘Hocus-pocus pays, huh?’
‘What did you expect me to drive?’
She looked him up and down. He was still in the same clothes — buttoned this time. She could see the paint in his hair and remembered him flying up off the concrete wall, his skate-board attached to his feet. ‘Something old and beat up.’
He threw back his head and laughed — a rich, throaty noise that weakened her knees. ‘You are a shrew,’ he stated. ‘Get in, Maddy.’
She obeyed, fearing that her knees wouldn’t support her for much longer, sinking into the well-worn soft leather of the bucket seat.
‘Not much room for a child seat in here, Dr Hunt.’
He laughed again. ‘The name is Marcus.’
‘Maybe...but I’m going to call you Dr Hunt,’ she mimicked his earlier words and he laughed again.
‘Touché, Maddy. Touché.’
They rode with the top down and, apart from Madeline giving him directions to her house, they drove in silence. The steady purr of the engine and the caress of the warm night air against her skin lulled Madeline to sleep.
Marcus took the opportunity to study her and felt a stupid little flutter somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. She was utterly gorgeous. Completely intriguing. The diamond on her finger mocked him and he almost sighed out loud.
Pity.
He pulled the car up outside her apartment block in the Valley and switched off the engine. He didn’t want to wake her but felt compelled to touch her at the same time.
‘Maddy,’ he said quietly, lightly stroking her cheek. She wiggled and murmured something unintelligible.
‘Maddy,’ he said, louder this time, and watched with regret as she opened her eyes, pulling abruptly away from his touch.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’
He shrugged. ‘You were tired.’
They were close in the compact car, Marcus dominating the small space, his blatant sexuality too big for such close confines. And despite her wishes to the contrary, Madeline knew something was happening within her that had never happened with Simon.
Oh, God - that wouldn’t do at all.
He rode a skateboard. He had a child. Okay, maybe he wasn’t married but he had responsibilities.
And she clearly needed sleep.
Clearing her throat, Madeline said, ‘Anyway...thank you...for before. I was rude to you but you came when I called.’
He shrugged. ‘I would never ignore a medical emergency. Some things are bigger than petty differences.’
‘Still, I think I owe you an apology.’
‘Accepted.’ He gave a slight half bow. ‘Does this mean my imminent eviction is not on the cards?’
‘It means seeing that you are a real doctor and you came to my aid and gave me a lift home, I guess I can tolerate you.