Read Online The Doctor's Society Sweetheart by Lucy Clark - Free Book Online
Authors: Lucy Clark
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He’d erected them a long time ago and that stopped him now from following through on the urge to draw closer to her. Like a moth to the flame, he thought, and shook his head with a hint of self-derision.
‘You didn’t enjoy the show?’ He broke the silence, not wanting to dwell on the way he’d thought she’d been looking at him. The irises of her eyes were almost completely covered by her pupils, giving her that wide-eyed innocent look that seemed to be drawing him in, begging him to come hither. The woman was creating a sense of uneasiness within him and he most certainly didn’t appreciate it.
‘Uh…on the contrary. You’re…’ Emmy swallowed and smiled brightly at him, her eyes wide with wonder ‘…amazing. I’ve never seen anyone do shadow puppets before. That’s quite a gift.’
Her tone was almost bursting with appreciation and Dart had to work hard not to be affected by her praise. He’d done shows before and been thanked before, people surprised at this strange skill he had, and, besides, it was only in places like this that he played around with making shadow puppets. So why was it that Emmy’s words made him feel all chuffedand happy inside? He hardly knew the woman yet her words, for some strange reason, meant so much.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘My father taught me.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘That’s wonderful.’
Dart shrugged. ‘We didn’t own a television when I was young and it passed the time.’
‘You didn’t own a television?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
‘I’ll bet you were raised in a house that had a television in every room.’ There was bitterness to his words and Emmy felt her hackles begin to rise.
‘Don’t go presuming you know anything about me, Dart Freeman,’ she said softly. Her tone was still controlled but her hands had gone from being relaxed at her sides into firm fists. ‘I would have gladly traded in every television in my home in order to spend some one-on-one time with my father. In fact, I’d have traded in everything I owned.’
And that most certainly put him in his place. ‘You’re right, Emerson. I humbly apologise once more.’
They stood there for a moment longer, just staring at each other, before Dart inclined his head slightly in a bow of respect, then turned to help pack things away. Space, he needed space and distance from the woman who was starting to rile him faster than a child hitting a hornet’s nest with a stick. As he turned, he noticed the camera crew, equipment out, filming what was going on.
He’d temporarily forgotten about them and as he moved, he realised they were trailing their equipment after him. Anger bubbled inside him. They were here to film the villagers, not him. They were supposed to be highlighting the poverty in the area, the needs of this isolated community, not focusing on the lonely doctor who came to this small country, a countrythat was in the grips of civil unrest, in order to help out and not feel so lonely any more.
Making a scene was not his style. Ordering them to turn off the cameras was not his style. He’d speak to Emerson tomorrow about how they most certainly did not have his permission to include anything about him in their little documentary. Right now, though, as he continued to help pack things away, checking with Tarvon who had been monitoring Weyakuu, the gunshot victim, as well as ensuring J’tagnan and his mother were settled for the night, Dart prepared to turn in.
He was pleased to be sleeping in one of the huts that was already full of PMA personnel as it meant that Emerson-Rose and her crew would be sleeping in another. It meant he could put the socialite out of his mind. She may have shown some hidden depth, she may have proven herself to be adept at assisting in medical procedures, but she would always be part of the rich and famous set while he was definitely from the other end of the social spectrum.
Same planet,
‘You didn’t enjoy the show?’ He broke the silence, not wanting to dwell on the way he’d thought she’d been looking at him. The irises of her eyes were almost completely covered by her pupils, giving her that wide-eyed innocent look that seemed to be drawing him in, begging him to come hither. The woman was creating a sense of uneasiness within him and he most certainly didn’t appreciate it.
‘Uh…on the contrary. You’re…’ Emmy swallowed and smiled brightly at him, her eyes wide with wonder ‘…amazing. I’ve never seen anyone do shadow puppets before. That’s quite a gift.’
Her tone was almost bursting with appreciation and Dart had to work hard not to be affected by her praise. He’d done shows before and been thanked before, people surprised at this strange skill he had, and, besides, it was only in places like this that he played around with making shadow puppets. So why was it that Emmy’s words made him feel all chuffedand happy inside? He hardly knew the woman yet her words, for some strange reason, meant so much.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘My father taught me.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘That’s wonderful.’
Dart shrugged. ‘We didn’t own a television when I was young and it passed the time.’
‘You didn’t own a television?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
‘I’ll bet you were raised in a house that had a television in every room.’ There was bitterness to his words and Emmy felt her hackles begin to rise.
‘Don’t go presuming you know anything about me, Dart Freeman,’ she said softly. Her tone was still controlled but her hands had gone from being relaxed at her sides into firm fists. ‘I would have gladly traded in every television in my home in order to spend some one-on-one time with my father. In fact, I’d have traded in everything I owned.’
And that most certainly put him in his place. ‘You’re right, Emerson. I humbly apologise once more.’
They stood there for a moment longer, just staring at each other, before Dart inclined his head slightly in a bow of respect, then turned to help pack things away. Space, he needed space and distance from the woman who was starting to rile him faster than a child hitting a hornet’s nest with a stick. As he turned, he noticed the camera crew, equipment out, filming what was going on.
He’d temporarily forgotten about them and as he moved, he realised they were trailing their equipment after him. Anger bubbled inside him. They were here to film the villagers, not him. They were supposed to be highlighting the poverty in the area, the needs of this isolated community, not focusing on the lonely doctor who came to this small country, a countrythat was in the grips of civil unrest, in order to help out and not feel so lonely any more.
Making a scene was not his style. Ordering them to turn off the cameras was not his style. He’d speak to Emerson tomorrow about how they most certainly did not have his permission to include anything about him in their little documentary. Right now, though, as he continued to help pack things away, checking with Tarvon who had been monitoring Weyakuu, the gunshot victim, as well as ensuring J’tagnan and his mother were settled for the night, Dart prepared to turn in.
He was pleased to be sleeping in one of the huts that was already full of PMA personnel as it meant that Emerson-Rose and her crew would be sleeping in another. It meant he could put the socialite out of his mind. She may have shown some hidden depth, she may have proven herself to be adept at assisting in medical procedures, but she would always be part of the rich and famous set while he was definitely from the other end of the social spectrum.
Same planet,
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