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Her schedule had been as packed as ever over the last days of August, and she had worked relentlessly with her team to help the people who came to them with a variety of eating-related issues, from anorexia and bulimia to compulsive problems and binge eating. The first Monday in September, the heatwave having broken, leaving behind cooler nights and shorter, sunny days, Ginger hurried up the stairs at the hospital and along the corridor to her office.

'Oh, Ginger! I was getting worried,' her assistant greeted her.

'I know, Sarah, I know.' She grimaced, heading through the tiny outer office to her own room where she dumped her files on her desk. 'Any messages?'

'The usual. Nothing urgent.' Sarah followed and handed over a pile of paper notes.

Ginger cast a hasty glance through them and stuffed them in her already bulging in-tray. 'They'll have to wait until this wretched combined departmental meeting is over. What time does it start?'

'Five minutes ago.'

'Damn!'

Sarah grinned. 'You'll make it. They rarely get going on time.'

'I'll have to run. Be an angel and file those patient notes for me, please.' She sent the redhead an apologetic smile. 'And can you make a start on the letters for me? They're in the top folder.'

'Sure, Ginger, no problem.'

'You're a star. What would I do without you?'

The cheeky smile Sarah offered was a good example of how far the shy young woman had come in the last months. 'I've no idea!'

Feeling a glow of satisfaction that the gamble she had taken on Sarah had paid off in the way the girl had blossomed and developed into an efficient and loyal assistant, Ginger hurried upstairs, her good humour fading as she considered the meeting that lay ahead. They'd been warned this would be a longer and broader gathering than usual and she hated being away from her work and patients. With the cancelling of her funding and closing of her unit, it was imperative to fit as much as she could into the next months—and win the financial backing from Ackerman.

The room was packed when she arrived and the director of services was already on her feet and speaking. Spotting Pip, who had saved her a seat near the back, Ginger inched her way across.

'Sorry,' she whispered to her friend.

Pip looked at her oddly, but the director was continuing her speech. 'And we'll be benefiting from his skills on a part-time basis for the next few months. In the meantime, as well as holding his own private clients, he'll be taking on specialist cases where required, and will be available for any department requiring any advice or input.'

Ginger frowned, having missed the first part of the introduction. 'What's going on?' she whispered to Pip, trying to catch up.

'You've not noticed?' the older woman commented with a curious smile.

'What?'

Ginger glanced to the front where the director was standing behind a table, flanked by three other people. Her eyes widened in horror. It couldn't be Cameron sitting there. Her brain had to be playing tricks on her. Then, across the distance that separated them, her gaze clashed with a compelling grey one and she could feel the blood draining from her face.

'Oh, my God. No!'

Ginger
could see, hear, think of nothing else. Her only awareness was being in the same room as Cameron again, remembering his touch, his taste, the raging inferno of passion they had shared in London. This couldn't be happening. The breath was sucked from her lungs under his intense scrutiny, her blood thundering through her veins. Dimly she became aware that Pip was nudging her, and that the others in the room had turned to stare at her.

'Ginger!' The clinical director sounded impatient, and had clearly called her before. 'Are you with us today?'

'I'm sorry,' she murmured, her face flaming.

'I was suggesting you arrange a meeting with Dr Kincaid. You could find he has some useful insights for your unit.'

'We'll see.' It wasn't very polite but better than the 'not bloody likely' that had first burst for freedom and been barely restrained.

No way was Cameron muscling his way in on her patch. It was bad enough that he was fighting her for the funding she so desperately needed. She met and matched his enigmatic, unsmiling stare. Just because his touch electrified her and he happened to be sensational in bed and the sexiest man in the galaxy, it didn't mean she was going to allow him to win that money and end her dreams. Her patients, staff and other backers depended on her. She couldn't fail them.

As the meeting came to an end, Ginger made sure she was the first one out of the room, and she all but ran towards the stairs, desperate for the sanctuary of her office.

'Ginger, hold on, lovey.' Pip panted after her.

'I'm late for appointments.'

'That was
the
Dr Kincaid, I presume?'

Sighing, Ginger nodded. 'Yes, I'm afraid it was...is.' Her insides knotted with tension and pain. If only she had never had to see him again she might, just might, have been able to cope. Cameron turning up here was a disaster.

'You said he was an older guy with grey hair!' Pip accused as they walked down the stairs.

'He looked older,' she fibbed, 'and his hair is greying at the temples.' Half a dozen strands of it. 'We didn't exactly exchange personal details.'

Just rather too many other personal and intimate things. Not that she was ever going to tell Pip, or anyone else, about that!

'He is impossibly good-looking.' Pip's appreciative sigh grated on her nerves.

'You're disgustingly happily married with five strapping sons!'

'Which doesn't mean I'm blind.' Pip chuckled and nudged her with her elbow. 'I know you've not dated for a while, not since you broke up with Marc. You work too hard, Ginger. Don't tell me you've lost the ability to appreciate a good-looking man.'

'Look, can we just drop the subject, please?'

Hazel eyes regarded her shrewdly. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Everything. Oh, hell!' she exploded, as she went into the office, startling Sarah who looked up in surprise. She fabricated a smile for the young woman. 'I'm sorry. Messages?'

'A few.' Sarah handed them over.

'Thanks. I'll deal with them at lunch. I must get downstairs for my appointments.' Frowning at the notes, unnerved by the turn of events, she tossed the slips on her desk and collected her files and diary. 'Sarah, if Dr Kincaid happens to ring, please don't put him through or give him any information. Tell him I'm busy with patients, visiting Mars, anything. Thank you.'

'What was that about?' Determined as ever, Pip accompanied her down to the ground floor where their outpatient clinics were taken.

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Come on, Ginger. You said yourself you and Dr Kincaid had no idea you were going for the same funding.'

'That's beside the point. And he certainly doesn't have to turn up here, poaching on my territory!' Looking so gorgeous and sexy and driving me mad with lust, she added silently.

Pip's scrutiny sharpened. 'Something more is going on here, isn't it?'

'No, of course not.' Ginger tried to laugh it off, but she could feel her face
flushing.

Pip was an excellent nurse, wonderful with the people who came to them for help, and a great friend, but she was like a bloodhound on the scent when something caught her interest.

'So, what...?'

Ginger didn't hear a word Pip went on to say. Coming along the corridor towards them was Cameron. Oh, hell. Dressed in dark trousers and a light grey shirt, he looked good enough to eat. Familiar heat curled inside her. She swallowed, her heart thudding, unable to focus on anything but him closing the distance between them, and the intense, intimate look in his eyes. He stopped in front of her and they just stared at each other for endless moments. Dear heaven, he was divine. Her gaze slid traitorously to his mouth and back up again, finding his eyes liquid with answering desire.

'Hello, Ginger.'

'Cam.' She swallowed, struggling to speak, his throaty voice sparking a fever of need inside her. Belatedly, she remembered they were not alone. 'Um, this is Pip Beaumont, mental health nurse. Pip—'

The older woman's hazel eyes twinkled. 'I know who he is! Nice to meet you, Dr Kincaid.'

'Cameron, please.' He smiled politely and shook hands, but his gaze switched back to Ginger.

Again time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other, neither speaking, both aching to touch, to kiss, to push reality away, to be back in the fantasy world they had shared that one unforgettable night. They didn't need words, their eyes seemed to speak for them.

We have to work this out, Ginger.

It's impossible.

I want you.

I want you, too.

I remember what it felt like to touch you.

I remember the feel of your mouth, your hands, your taste...

For one heartbeat she thought they swayed towards each other, and then his pager beeped, the loud intrusion snapping them back to their senses. Cameron took a step backwards, the sexy pout of his mouth almost making her weep.

'I'm on my way to Casualty.' He looked at her, his grey eyes full of need and regret. 'I have to go.' His gaze swung briefly to her colleague. 'Good to meet you, Pip.'

The older woman grinned. 'Likewise.'

'Ginger, we have to talk.'

She struggled to marshal her defences. 'No, I—'

'Please.'

'But—'

'I'll be in touch.' Cameron's parting words sounded more threat than promise.

Ginger's protest died as he strode away, her gaze following him, seeing him turn for one last look before he disappeared round the corner. She tried to suck air back into her parched lungs. Glancing down, she found her nails had carved crescents in her palms where she had clenched them in a desperate attempt not to reach for him.

'Wow!' Pip exclaimed, open-mouthed.

Ginger's pulse roared in her ears. 'Sorry?'

'I thought you were both going to spontaneously combust.'

'What?'

'Come on, Ginger, I've never seen
anything
like that! The two of you were all but ripping each other's clothes off!'

Heat washed her face as she remembered how they had done precisely that. 'Don't be silly,' she protested hoarsely.

Goodness, she needed to sit down. She opened the door of the consulting suite she used for her patient appointments and sank to her chair, dropping her files on the desk and pressing the heel of one hand to her sternum where a terrible knot of tension seemed to have lodged.

'I'm not surprised you're sitting.' As tenacious as ever, Pip followed her inside. 'If any man had ever looked at me that way, let alone such a sexy one, I'd have melted on the spot! Or ravished him!'

Ginger's blush intensified.

'Oh, my!' Pip gasped with shocked delight. 'Ginger, you didn't?'

'I may have sort of kissed him.' The admission came reluctantly because she knew Pip wouldn't give up, but she was determined not to reveal any further information.

'Sort of?' Her friend leaned her elbows on the desk, eager for details. 'What does
sort
of
mean?'

'Pip, we have patients waking. I need to get to work.'

'Something else happened, didn't it?'

And how! 'Just forget it, please.'

'Did you sleep with him?'

'Pip!'

'It wouldn't be so terrible. Far from it, I should imagine! Did you?'

'No.' Well, she hadn't, Ginger reasoned. Not exactly. There had been very little sleep involved in the proceedings and they hadn't consummated things in the way Pip was thinking. And now she was thinking about it again, she felt all hot and unnecessary. It wouldn't do. She had to focus. Determinedly, she squared her shoulders. 'Work, Pip.'

Her friend sighed with disappointment. 'OK, OK, I'm going. But you know I'm here if you need to talk.'

'I know.' Pip might get over-enthusiastic about things, but she had a heart of gold and had been a loyal friend and colleague. 'Thanks.'

Grateful to be left alone, Ginger tried to compose herself and get ready for her first consultation... but all she could think about was Cameron.

He was here, in her hospital.

What was she going to do?

Cameron made his way to Casualty in a daze. His shock when Ginger had walked into the meeting room that morning had been mirrored by the expression on her face when she had looked up and seen him. For several moments he had thought his heart would stop, that he could no longer draw air into his lungs, then his pulse had started thudding madly, the blood rushing through his veins. He had no idea what the department director had said because all his focus had been on Ginger, the way her face had paled, the lack of welcome, her barely polite response when she had been advised to meet with him.

Bumping into her in the corridor just now had been another surprise. Wearing the kind of floaty skirt that he was coming to associate with her, this time in various shades of green and blue, and a long white shirt that masked the lush fullness of her breasts from his view—if not from his memory— she had looked delicious. Her sunny blonde hair had been tied back in a loose braid, exposing the curve of her neck, making him remember what her skin had felt like, how she had tasted. And the hint of her fragrance, ripe summer berries, had teased him mercilessly. Had they been alone, had his pager not sent out a summons, he didn't think he would have been able to stop himself reaching for her and kissing her with all the pent-up longing that had raged inside him since she had left him in London.

Ginger! She was just likelier name—hot and spicy. He would never forget how special things had been between them. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself it was just sex, he didn't believe it. It had been too intense, too... He couldn't even find the right words to explain it to himself—he just knew that he had never experienced that earth-shattering need and passion and closeness before. And he desperately wanted to take things that last step they had been unable to enjoy that magical night.