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'Is ... is something the matter, Doctor?' she asked, rising.
    The registrar's eyes rested on her thoughtfully, and she had the urge to back away. 'No, there's nothing wrong, Anna. I came to fix up about tomorrow.'
    'Tomorrow? That's Saturday,' she said foolishly.
    'So it is, so it is,' he murmured, smiling his thanks at Mrs Jenkins, who bustle d away.
    Now they were alone, Anna didn't know what to say to him. She'd heard men preferred girls who listened, so she remained silent. If he wanted to make conversation, that was up to him. Saturday was the day she was going to belong to Mike Forster and Dr Alexandre had no part in it.
    But what, a voice whispered, if it was Rick Alexandre and not Mike Forster? Wouldn't tomorrow be a day of rejoicing? Would you feel the same fear, the apprehension?
    'No!' she said aloud, answering the voice, then bit her lower lip when she realised what she'd said. It was true. Those blue-grey eyes were beautiful. They were. It wasn't just her imagination. He had long dark lashes and those big eyes with their steady gaze. And the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed was really fetching.
    Her lips moved but no sound came as realisation dawned. She was infatuated with this man! That was the reason he was never far from her thoughts. It was his face, his eyes, that hovered before her when she ought to have been concentrating on something else.
    'Do you usually make faces at guests or am I especially privileged?' Dr Alexandre asked, his eyes watchful now.
    With an effort Anna pulled herself together, the enormity of her discovery causing her to speak sharply, 'I was not making faces, Dr Alexandre! And as I'm off duty tomorrow, I don't see that we have anything to discuss.'
    'I see,' he said agreeably, settling himself in the wicker armchair Anna had just vacated. 'Bit nippy out here, isn't it? No central heating?' He gazed up at her, eyes innocent.
    He must never know how she felt! But how could she hide it? He mustn't see her face, it was like an open book. Swiftly, she crossed to the verandah windows and looked out at the long garden with its denuded trees. 'What is happening on Saturday?' she asked, her voice muffled.
    'Ah, yes. Saturday. It's my day off as well as yours,' he said, and Anna waited, wondering if he had some task he wanted her to perform for the hospital.
    'Is it carol-singing?' she asked hopefully. She enjoyed singing but it seemed a bit early.
    'Christmas isn't quite ready to descend upon us, Anna. I thought we might go for a drive,' he went on equably. She swung round to face him.
    'Go for a drive?' she echoed. 'With you?'
    'Mm. A nice idea, don't you think?'
    Anna shook her head. 'Why do you want to take me for a drive? Isn't your blonde friend available? she asked tartly, and he looked astonished.
    'Which blonde friend? Let me see now.' He began ticking off names on his fingers, still with that infuriatingly smug expression on his face. 'There is Angela—no, she's more of a reddish-brown. Then Olivia—no, she isn't blonde any more. Or what about Betty? I don't think so—haven't seen her lately. I've got it! Must be Simone—she was blonde last time I saw her.'
    'Dr Alexandre,' Anna said patiently, 'I do not want a rundown of all your girl-friends. I'm sorry Simone and Betty and . . . and Oliver can't make it but I'm not substituting for them.'
    'Olivia, dear, not Oliver. You'll get me a bad name!' he drawled, and Anna exploded.
    'For pity's sake, leave me alone!' she cried, turning away so that he should not see her distress. 'Please go home!' She bit her lip savagely, and tasted the saltiness of her own blood. Tears pricked her eyes, she wanted to fling herself on to her bed and bawl her heart out. Oh, why didn't he go!
    'Home is in Jersey, Anna,' he said, from just behind her, and she started visibly. 'Home can be wherever you want it to be, though,' he went on, his voice a murmuring caress, and Anna felt his warm breath on the back of her neck.
    Irritably, she