The Celebrity Doctor's Proposal by Sarah Morgan Page A

method of patient education. These days patients want to be informed. They need to be informed.’
    â€˜That’s all very well…’ Anna picked at a piece of bread ‘…but from where I’m sitting there’s nothing more irritating than a patient coming into the surgery clutching a magazine announcing the arrival of another wonder drug.’
    â€˜I’m not saying that all media reporting of health stories is good,’ Sam said. ‘I’m just saying that you shouldn’t dismiss it. Watch my programme. Tell me that what we’re doing in the surgery wouldn’t make good summer viewing. There’s a lot people could learn from us.’
    â€˜Well, I agree that the wasp message is a useful one,’ Anna conceded, and Sam nodded.
    â€˜And what we need to do now is a piece talking about first aid for anaphylactic shock, how to recognise and deal with it. Remind people with known allergies to carry adrenaline.’
    â€˜I still think that the cameras will put patients off coming.’
    â€˜It won’t put them off,’ Sam predicted. ‘It will attract them like magnets. Trust me on that one. You’d be amazed at the number of people who are only too delighted to air their health problems on national TV.’
    He sat across from her, talking easily, making her laugh with outrageous stories, and when she finally looked at her watch she was astonished to find it was past midnight.
    â€˜Look at the time! I’ve got a pile of reading to do before I go to bed.’
    He yawned and finished his coffee. ‘Forget the reading for once. Have a night off.’
    â€˜I like to stay up to date and stuck down here in Cornwall in a two-man practice, I never get to conferences.’
    He looked at her. ‘Reading. Conferences. What about parties? Nights on the town? Don’t you ever have doubts about devoting your life to medicine?’
    She frowned and tilted her head to one side, her silken dark hair sliding over her shoulder and brushing the table. ‘I’m not devoting my life. I’m twenty eight, not a hundred. This is just my focus for now. Not for ever.’
    â€˜Precisely. You’re twenty-eight. You should have a sex life.’
    She straightened her shoulders. ‘My sex life is none of your business, McKenna, but just in case you haven’t scrutinised the electoral role lately, I ought to warn you that there’s a shortage of single, eligiblemen in this village. And I don’t sleep with my patients.’
    â€˜Then spread your net wider.’
    Her frown deepened. ‘I’m quite happy as I am, for now. My plan is to carry on until I feel I’ve really grasped the job. Then maybe it’ll be time for more personal stuff.’
    â€˜Anna the planner.’ He lifted his glass and drained it, his eyes glittering slightly in the flickering candlelight. ‘And what if fate intervenes? What if Mr Right arrives before you’ve scheduled him in to your life plan?’
    She grinned airily. ‘I’ll probably be too busy reading my journals to notice him.’ She waved a hand at Ken who was hovering at a nearby table, chatting to the diners. ‘We’re off, Ken. You’d better charge us for this feast while we’re still sober enough to pay.’
    Sam reached into his wallet for his credit card and Anna frowned. ‘What’s that for?’
    â€˜Well, unless you intend to spend the rest of the night in the kitchens, washing up, I was planning to pay.’
    â€˜You’re not paying for me. We’ll go halves.’
    Sam yawned. ‘For goodness’ sake, Riggs. Can’t you even let a guy buy you dinner?’
    â€˜I can buy my own dinner and this wasn’t a date, McKenna. It was an alternative to omelette.’
    Sam surveyed the pitiful remains of food on the table. ‘It was a good alternative. Especially given that there were no eggs. And I’m