Philip coloured unattractively. ‘I’ve already explained to you that we’re separated,’ he muttered, and Libby lifted an eyebrow.

‘Separated?’ Sparks of anger lit her blue eyes and she curled her fists into her palms. ‘Well, you certainly didn’t look separated when I saw you the other morning.’

Philip gritted his teeth. ‘I can explain, Libby. Listen to me—’

‘No, you listen to me.’ Libby took a step towards him, deriving considerable satisfaction from the fact that he backed away from her. ‘You are a scumbag, Philip,’ she said tightly. ‘And if you want to talk to someone, I suggest you talk to your wife.’

Philip flinched. ‘I can tell that you’re angry and I can understand that you’d rather not go to the ball in the circumstances,’ he said stiffly. ‘It’s going to take you a while to get over this.’

Libby’s mouth fell open. ‘Believe me, I’m over it,’ she said acidly. ‘And as for the ball, I never said I wasn’t going. I’m definitely going. I’m just not going with you.’

Philip looked first taken aback and then horrified, obviously envisaging embarrassing scenes. ‘You’re never going to find anyone else to go with you at this late stage.’

Making an instantaneous decision, Libby flashed a dazzling smile at Andreas. ‘I’m going with Andreas.’

She stepped closer to him and gazed into his eyes with all the adoration of someone who’d met the love of her life. ‘You did manage to get the evening off, didn’t you, darling?’

Andreas didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course,’ he drawled, lowering his head and kissing her lingeringly on the lips.

Libby’s brain ceased to function and she melted against him. She forgot Philip and she forgot the ball. She forgot that she was determined to resist Andreas. She was aware only of sensation. Delicious, tantalising, brain-swamping sensation.

And then Andreas lifted his head.

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles and gave a lopsided smile. ‘Libby and I are hoping that there’ll be fireworks,’ he purred, laughter in his eyes as he looked down at her.

Stunned by the overwhelming chemistry between them, Libby flushed scarlet and Philip glowered at them both.

‘Well, if that’s the way you want to play it.’ He turned on his heel and strode briskly out of the ward without looking back.

‘You didn’t have to kiss me,’ Libby muttered, peering out of the room to make sure that Philip had left.

Andreas narrowed his eyes and surveyed her with all the lazy confidence of a man who knew he had the upper hand.

‘I was trying to make it convincing,’ he said helpfully, and she managed a scowl, even though her heart rate was still behaving strangely.

‘Don’t get any funny ideas, Dr Christakos. It’s no big deal. I just needed someone to go with and you happened to be standing there.’

A lazy smile settled on his handsome face. ‘Of course.’

‘If I don’t turn up, it will look as though I’m at home, pining for him, and I can’t have him thinking that.’