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One Life-Changing Night
Louisa Heaton


A kiss to mean for ever?For A&E nurse Naomi Bloom, a handsome man only spells bad news. So when she’s forced to move in with her gorgeous new boss, Dr Tom Williams, she is certain he’s strictly off-limits!Tom swore he’d never love again after losing his wife. But Naomi’s presence is a breath of fresh air and Tom finds his long-held vow challenged. Will he be ready to embrace the risk when one kiss leads to a night these two will never forget?










Praise for Louisa Heaton (#ulink_d67602b2-ec5b-57c2-a406-6bc5bf0d56ff)

‘The Baby That Changed Her Life moved me to tears many times. It is a full-on emotional drama. Louisa Heaton brought this tale shimmering with emotions.’

—Goodreads

‘You know that feeling you get after you read an incredibly awesome book … the feeling where you don’t know what to read next, because the book you just read was so awesome …? That’s exactly how I feel.’

—Goodreads on The Baby That Changed Her Life


‘You’re very kind, Naomi.’

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Standing there, holding his hand by the riverside, seemed the right thing to be doing. Their relationship had changed so much, and where once she had been apprehensive around him she now felt that she cared. That she wanted good things for him. And the idea that he would be alone for the rest of his life …

He was staring down at her—intently.

They were so close to each other, and she suddenly became aware of the small space between them—almost as if it were crackling with unseen electricity.

His eyes stared deep into her soul and it was as if she could feel him searching, see him looking for something within her that only he could find. He took a step closer.

Naomi sucked in her breath, her lips parting as he came closer. Did she want Tom to kiss her?

Yes. Absolutely.




Dear Reader (#ulink_90c3399a-888a-57dd-982a-1d972a8ad305),


I came out of a horrid five-year relationship once, feeling hurt, dejected and jaded. It hadn’t been a good place to be—mentally or emotionally—and I emerged from the experience as a single woman, utterly determined never to get involved in another relationship ever again. Men were off the menu.

Three weeks later I was engaged to be married to my now husband! No one—definitely not me!—could have predicted that I would be swept so swiftly off my feet and find a wonderful, kind, loving man who could disprove all my theories about men in one fell swoop.

It’s a shock to the system, I can tell you, and I wanted to write about and explore that shock—and that’s how my characters in this book, Naomi and Tom, came into being. They both have preconceived ideas about love and I wanted to shake their worlds!

I felt every second of Naomi’s journey, and I wrote about a hero whom I hope all of my readers can fall in love with. I certainly did! I hope you’ll enjoy their story.

Louisa xxx


LOUISA HEATON lives on Hayling Island, Hampshire, with her husband, four children and a small zoo. She has worked in various roles in the health industry—most recently four years as a Community First Responder, answering 999 calls. When not writing, Louisa enjoys other creative pursuits, including reading, quilting and patchwork—usually instead of the things she ought to be doing!




OneLife-ChangingNight

Louisa Heaton







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Sukidoo, the best friend I’ve never met. xx




Table of Contents


Cover (#u321296bf-3e26-5885-b8e4-0b7d5850e274)

Praise for Louisa Heaton (#ulink_0409aa16-46ff-5b67-9e06-71a1b5f7a963)

Excerpt (#u0661cc50-802e-54d0-bba1-b03a138a328c)

Dear Reader (#ulink_49cf02ee-5266-5eb3-a9f7-5d493ab9bc30)

About the Author (#u8548061b-81a7-5fd4-b887-a34a8aec8087)

Title Page (#ua2d3559b-8f2e-558d-b71b-1664a85239fd)

Dedication (#ua0941005-854b-5f55-a3aa-1f69a4aae180)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_6decac59-60b9-5465-a674-733ef359c878)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_13907eaf-42cc-5218-93b0-d9a88b1b874c)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_1f49d644-a2e2-5d36-be5f-64d03cc6d8c5)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_3725c5f4-05aa-54db-ab9e-abba1bb96464)


SHE HADN’T EXPECTED to fall into the arms of a stunningly handsome man on her first day at work. Or to have climbed up a wobbly ladder in Welbeck Memorial’s A&E department. But it was nearly the end of January and the Christmas decorations were still up.

Naomi had offered to take them down at the end of her shift, which had been a long twelve hours, and her head was buzzing with information and protocols and procedures. But she had nothing waiting for her at home—not even a cat—and, quite frankly, putting off going back to her little bedsit with its dingy second-hand furniture had seemed like a good option. Starting a new life was one thing, but starting it in a derelict, ought-to-be-bulldozed ground-floor flat with a growing mould problem was another.

When she’d offered to take the decorations down, the sister in charge had been very sweet. ‘Oh, you don’t have to do that! We’ll get one of the porters to do it. It’s your first day.’

But she’d insisted. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. Besides, it’s bad luck to keep them up this long. Bringing the old year into the new.’

‘Well, just be careful. There’s a stepladder in my office you can use, but make sure you get someone to steady it for you, or you’ll have Health and Safety on my back.’

Naomi smiled to herself, remembering the health and safety lecture she’d sat through that morning. She would be sensible and follow the rules. Just as she’d always done. She located the boxes for the Christmas decorations piled high in the sister’s office and spent the first hour removing baubles and tinsel from the lower branches.

The old, artificial tree was almost bald in parts and she could see it was decades old, dragged out from its box year after year to try and brighten the place up. Her nose wrinkled as she leant too far into one of the branches and breathed in dust and the smell of Christmases past.

As she pulled her face free of the tree, another stench—this one of alcohol and body odour—mixed into the fray, sweeping over her like a wave. A scruffy-looking man with stained clothes staggered towards her. She turned to steady him as he passed by, hoping to steer him back in the direction of the waiting room, but the drunk angrily turned on her instead. ‘Leave me alone! Shouldn’t you be working instead of playing with that tree? I’ve been waiting to be seen for ages and you’re out here messing around!’

They often saw people who were drunk in Accident and Emergency and Naomi knew they were mostly unthreatening. All she had to do was be non-confrontational and pleasant and they would be satisfied.

She smiled and led him back into the waiting room. ‘You’ll be seen soon, sir, don’t worry.’

‘Bloomin’ patronising me! You should be working!’ he slurred.

She saw no point in telling him she’d already worked a twelve-hour shift and that she ought to have been at home by now. He didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to hear that he would be treated. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long now.’

Once he was settled back into his chair, she went back to the tree. To get the decorations down from the top she needed to go up the ladder. And that meant she needed someone to help steady it.

She headed back into the unit, looking for someone who was free, but everyone was so busy. And she didn’t know anyone well enough yet to interrupt their work and ask them to help her. Because what was more important? Patient care, or an old tree?

Naomi looked down the long corridor at the stepladder. It wasn’t that high. Just three steps. What harm would it do, if she was quick? Surely Matron wouldn’t like her taking away a member of staff to hold a ladder when they could be treating someone.

Hmm. I’ll be careful. These health and safety measures are always too cautious anyway.

She positioned the ladder where she needed it, noticing that it was a little uneven, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was about to pounce and tell her off, and climbed up. She picked off the first few baubles and strings of tinsel and dropped them into the cardboard boxes beneath, hearing them plop into the decorations below. She worked quickly, steadying herself when she felt the ladder wobble a bit beneath her feet. The star on the top of the tree was just a tiny bit out of her reach and so she leant for it, stretching. The ladder wobbled even more so and she felt it start to move beneath her. ‘Oh!’

She felt herself fall and braced herself for the impact and the hard, unforgiving floor. But instead, her fall was broken by a solid, reassuring pair of arms.

Stunned, she looked up to say thank you, but her voice somehow got stuck in her throat.

This man was nothing like the drunk that had accosted her a moment ago. This man had captivating eyes of cerulean blue, a strong jawline and he smelt just … heavenly! Masculine and invigorating.

‘Whoa! Are you mad?’ That voice. The most perfect accent she’d ever heard. Refined. Educated. Even if it was currently scolding her.

She blushed madly as she stared up into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat. She was embarrassed at having fallen. Ashamed at having been caught up the ladder when she’d been told to get someone to help her and desperately doing her level best to appear normal and not swoon like a heroine in a romance novel. She’d been determined to move to London and start life as a strong, confident, independent woman and yet here she was: it was only her first day at work and she was lying in a man’s arms.

A very handsome man’s arms! Her cheeks flamed with heat as he easily stood her upright, making sure she was steady before he let her go. When he did, she almost felt disappointed to be out of those arms, but … oh!

He was tall, almost a head taller than her, well past six foot, and he had the most startling blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was looking her over, assessing her, his gaze questioning.

She managed to find some words. ‘Thank you, I … shouldn’t have been up there.’ She blushed again, brushing her hands down her clothes as if she were covered in dust and dirt. She wasn’t. She just didn’t know what else to do and she had to do something! Naomi had never been held in a man’s arms like that. Cradled. Protected. Vincent had never held her that way. Not that that was his fault.

This man was probably used to women blushing in front of him. Women fawning at his feet, unable to string a sentence together.

He was dressed smartly in what had to be a tailored bespoke suit that fitted his finely toned body to perfection. This man knew how to dress and he dressed well, his clothes accentuating his best features. A red scarf slung casually around his neck highlighted the auburn tones in his hair.

Still, she wasn’t going to let herself be blown away by a gorgeous man. She knew men like this usually came with health warnings.

Get involved at your own risk.

Look at what had happened to her mother, for instance.

She wasn’t even sure who he was. She looked for the badge that all hospital employees wore, but couldn’t see it.

‘You must be new here?’ She saw him glance at her name badge.

‘Naomi.’ She reached out her hand to shake his. ‘Bloom. A&E nurse. First day.’

He looked at her hand briefly as if she were offering him a handful of sputum. Then he ignored it. ‘Tom Williams. Clinical Lead and doctor. Almost your doctor for that stunt you just pulled.’

She faltered, her hand dropping away from him. This was her boss? She looked away, trying to think quickly, before returning her gaze to his. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘You had your induction this morning?’ If this had been any other situation, she could have listened to his voice all day. It was rich and warm, classy. It was the sort of voice you heard from an English villain in an American movie.

Focus.

‘I did, but—’

He smiled at her but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘The health and safety briefing was covered?’

She nodded, feeling like a naughty child who was standing in front of a headmaster. ‘Yes, but I didn’t want to pull anyone away from their work, as they were all so busy, so I thought I’d do it myself.’ The words burbled out of her quickly, showing her horror at having been caught so badly in the wrong.

She’d assumed she had been doing the right thing. Naomi had learnt the value of being able to do something for yourself. It was a pleasure denied to many people. A normality that they craved. To be able to do simple things like opening their own cupboard to reach for a mug, or taking themselves to the toilet. On their own. Without someone to help them.

He glanced at the tree. ‘Well, luckily I managed to save you from a sprained ankle. Or something worse.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘A sprained neck wouldn’t have gone down well on your first day. Nor would me having to fill in a three-page incident-report form after I’ve just spent twenty hours on non-stop duty.’

‘I’m sorry, Dr Williams.’

Tom frowned, seeming concerned as he looked around them and over towards the waiting area. ‘Who asked you to do this?’

She shrugged. ‘I volunteered.’

‘You volunteered?’ He let out a short, impatient sigh. ‘Well, if you’re going to insist on doing this, I’d better stay and make sure you’re safe.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to—’

‘You might head back up that ladder. Besides, I was only on my way home.’ He placed his folded coat down on top of his briefcase, removed his scarf and rolled up his sleeves.

He had beautiful forearms … Smooth. Strong.

If he hadn’t just given her a dressing-down, she might have been tempted to appreciate them a bit more. ‘Right. Erm … thanks.’

He looked the tree up and down. ‘This old tree ought to have been passed through a chipper years ago.’

‘I don’t think they do that to fake trees.’

‘No. Probably not.’

He started to take off some more of the decorations that he could reach just by standing there, which Naomi hadn’t had a chance in hell of reaching, and then he passed them to her, so she could put them in their boxes a little more carefully than she’d been doing earlier. She hated feeling like a chastised child and wanted to get back on a more even keel, so she ventured some basic conversation. ‘So you’ve worked here for a while, then?’

He glanced at her. ‘Yes. What made you come to Welbeck?’

He didn’t need to know her history. He probably didn’t even want to know. He was just being polite. Or, at least, as polite as he could be.

She’d already vowed not to mention her past to anyone here. She didn’t want pity or sympathy. She just wanted to get on with her life. If she told people she’d come out of a marriage where she’d been more of a carer than a wife, they tended to look at her with pity.

‘I used to live in the East Midlands, originally, but I fancied a change of pace, so I got myself a cheap bedsit down here and hoped for the best.’ This was better conversation, she thought. Much better than being told off.

‘I thought I heard an accent.’

She smiled, never having thought of herself as someone with an accent. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. Bit of a northern twang. I’ll go up the ladder and get the rest of them.’

‘Be my guest.’ She held it steady as he went up and together they made a quick, efficient team. The tree was soon naked of ornaments, broken down into its segments and boxed away for next year. Naomi quickly swept up the debris. It hadn’t taken them more than fifteen minutes to get it sorted. ‘Thanks for the help. It was really kind of you.’

‘No problem.’ He seemed to look at her for a moment longer than was comfortable, then suddenly shook his head at whatever thought he’d had and picked up his coat and briefcase. ‘Let’s try not to get hurt tomorrow, Nurse Bloom, hmm?’

‘Course not.’ She watched him walk away and let out a breath that she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

Wow. What a bear!

And he was her boss! That was embarrassing. Her first day and she had already been caught breaking a rule, although thankfully not breaking anything else.

She determined to try and stay out of Dr Williams’s way as much as possible. She would only let him notice her when she was being brilliant, providing outstanding nursing care.

She headed in the other direction and went to fetch her coat.

The weather was doing its best to let the people of London know that it was winter. There’d been snow a few days ago and, though there’d been nothing since, it was still on the ground, due to the freezing temperatures. The surrounding buildings looked grey, damp and cold and as Naomi came out of the hospital to head for home—a place she really didn’t want to go, knowing it would be just as awful inside as it was out—she wrapped her knitted green scarf around her tightly and pulled on her gloves.

There were people standing outside the entrance to A&E puffing away on cigarettes, their hands cupped around them, as if somehow gaining a small measure of warmth. One of them was the drunk that had confronted Naomi earlier and he looked up, catching her gaze with vehemence. He came staggering back over to her, the overwhelming stench of body odour and stale alcohol almost overpowering. With one grimy finger he pushed her in the chest. ‘You lot kept me waiting.’

Naomi felt disconcerted. And a little afraid. She could handle this sort of aggression when she was at work. In the hospital. Then she had her uniform on and was surrounded by people who she knew would come to her aid. Violence against hospital staff wasn’t tolerated and they had security guards, too. But out here, outside work, in her normal clothes, she felt more vulnerable.

‘Look, sir—’

‘You lot … kept me waiting!’ He gave her another shove and she stumbled backwards, caught off balance, her heart pounding. What a first day she was having. She’d wound up her new boss and now she was being accosted by a member of the public. She held up her hands as if in surrender and backed away, afraid of what might happen, when suddenly a tall figure stepped between them.

It was Tom. He had stepped in, towering over the drunk like a menacing gladiator.

‘Step away.’ He dropped his briefcase to the floor without taking his eyes off the belligerent man and then slowly walked towards him.

Naomi watched, open-mouthed in shock. It had to be him! Rescuing her again!

What must he think of me?

‘What you gonna do? Huh? I know my rights!’ A small piece of spittle flew from the man’s mouth, but his swagger and bravado soon dissipated as Tom continued to step towards him.

‘If you ever touch a member of my staff again, you’ll find yourself in a police cell quicker than you could ever imagine.’

The man staggered backwards, blinking. ‘All right! All right! I’m going!’ He looked most put out that his bullying tactics hadn’t worked and he’d been knocked back by a better, stronger man. ‘You lot are all the same!’ He shuffled off, muttering, his cigarette smoke surrounding him like a dirty cloud.

Tom watched him go, his coat collar turned up around his neck. Only when he was convinced that the drunk was far enough away did he turn around to look at Naomi, his gaze checking her for any injury, concern in his eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ His voice held a note of the same concern.

She nodded quickly. Briefly. She was unable to believe how quickly the situation had escalated.

‘Mick’s a frequent flyer here. Often presents drunk. He’s lonely, I think.’ His voice had an odd tone, but whatever he’d been thinking disappeared from his face when he turned again to make sure Mick had truly gone.

‘But still he has a go at the people trying to help him.’

He smiled, disarming her. ‘It happens.’

‘You can say that again.’ She watched Mick from afar, glad that Tom had intervened. Although she felt she would have handled it, if she’d had to. She’d taken kick-boxing classes once, years ago. She had needed something intensely physical to do, seeing as it wasn’t required in her marriage. At home, she’d had to be careful in everything she did, walking on eggshells, making sure she made no dramatic movements so as not to cause inadvertent injury. Being extra careful all of the time had just seemed to emphasise her natural clumsiness. By the end, her marriage had been a physical prison.

‘Thanks again. It seems you’ve rescued me twice in one day.’ She tried to break the tension she was feeling by making a joke. ‘You really ought to be wearing shining armour and riding a white horse, or something.’

He just stared at her, his face impassive.

Not a lover of jokes either. Okay.

‘Anyway. Thank you.’

‘Will you get home all right?’

She nodded and pulled up the collar of her own coat. ‘It’s not far. Just around the corner, to be honest. St Bartholomew’s Road.’

‘Then I’ll walk you home. Mick could still be a bother. I know him and he doesn’t always do what’s wise.’

She couldn’t let him do that. He’d done enough for her today and, besides, she didn’t need him witnessing the dump she was living in. That would be too embarrassing. By his expensive clothes, she could tell this was a man that probably lived in a penthouse apartment. He’d take one look at her bedsit and then what would he think of her? He probably already thought of her as incompetent and she didn’t want him thinking of her as some sort of Cinderella figure.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do.’ He smiled. ‘You’ve almost fallen once today. If you fell on the ice now, it would undo all of my previous hard work.’

Naomi smiled back, her grin almost freezing into place in the bitter wind.

Right. I just won’t invite him in. Then he won’t understand how bad it is. I can do this. He’s not a complete ogre.

‘Okay.’

They walked along at a pleasant pace. There was a large park by the hospital and, this late in the day, it was filled with people walking their dogs, or couples strolling hand in hand. Naomi always noticed people doing that. It had been something denied to her and Vincent. She’d always been pushing his wheelchair.

But today, instead, she caught herself sneaking looks at Tom and even though she tried to stop herself—sure that he would notice—she kept doing it.

He was so good-looking; tall and broad, yet slim. He frightened her. Not just because he was her boss and probably thought she was an incompetent nincompoop, but because he was without a doubt the most handsome man she had ever met. Handsome men, in her experience, caused trouble. They had certainly caused enough for her mother, who had brought back endless strings of attractive men. Fast-car driving, exquisitely clothed, silver-tongued individuals, so slick you’d have trouble distinguishing them from a vat of oil. Each man had caused their own problems. Borrowing money, never calling, one even taking his hand to her mother. Each and every one had been heartache and pain in a well-dressed suit. Each of them had broken her mother’s easily led heart.

That was why Naomi had fallen so easily in love with Vincent. Why she had married him. He’d been none of those things. He’d been average-looking, physically disabled. She’d always known where she was with him. She’d always known the expectations. It had been simple. And there’d been no worry or risk of him running off, having an affair and breaking her heart.

‘So how was your first day at Welbeck? Scintillating health and safety briefing aside?’

Naomi looked back at the road, busy with cars. ‘It was good. Exhausting, but good. I’ll be glad to get a decent night’s sleep. You? Did you have a busy day?’

See? I can do this. Pretend this is normal. There’s nothing more to it than one colleague walking another home, to ensure her safety. Having a normal conversation.

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you choose A&E as a discipline?’

‘It’s busy.’

She waited, assuming that he’d say more, but when he didn’t, she didn’t push him. They were both still strangers to each other. Perhaps he had personal reasons for his career that he didn’t feel like sharing with someone he’d only just met. After all, she was keeping secrets, too. Holding things back. He was entitled to do the same.

Naomi adjusted her scarf. ‘You know, it’s not far now. You’re probably coming out of your way to walk me home, so you can go, if you want to. I don’t think I’m going to get mugged in the next fifty metres.’

He turned to her. ‘You don’t like people helping you, do you?’

She blew out a breath. ‘I stand on my own two feet. I’ve got used to looking after myself and I like it. The independence. The freedom.’ She couldn’t tell him how much that meant to her. Being out in the world and doing her own thing without having to think of anyone else. She hadn’t been able to do that for a very long time.

They continued to walk, turning into her road, and she felt twisting snakes of nervousness swirl around in her stomach the closer they got.

She knew what he would think. He would see the small front yard, littered with an old settee and someone’s old fridge. The detritus and litter from what seemed like a million previous tenants—empty glass milk bottles, old cans, raggedy bits of clothing, dirtied by the weather and constant stream of car exhaust fumes. And if he got past her front door? Well, she’d tried her best to pretty the place up. She had done what she could, but it never seemed enough. The truth was, she couldn’t afford anywhere better and it would have to do until she’d gathered some more savings for a small deposit elsewhere.

Naomi estimated she had another six months of being here, before she could try and rent somewhere else. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m rude.’

He laughed to himself. ‘I can cope with rude.’

‘Well, I don’t mean to be.’ As they came to a halt outside her front garden she hesitated, sucking in a breath, her back turned to the property. ‘Well, this is me. Unfortunately.’

Tom smiled and looked past her. The smile dropped from his glorious face in an instant. ‘Did you leave your front door open?’

‘Er … no. Why?’ Naomi turned around and instantly saw the splintering down the door frame where someone had pried it open. She gasped and went to take a step forward, but Tom gripped her arm, holding her back.

‘Stay here. Call the police.’

‘You’re not going in?’ Whoever had broken in could still be in there! He had no idea what he would be walking into. There was splintered wood all over the place and goodness knew what they’d done to all her things inside. He could trip on anything, hurt himself. The burglars could be waiting with weapons. It was dangerous, and …

He’s not Vincent. Tom can handle himself.

He’d certainly shown himself to be capable when he’d sent Mick away outside the hospital. He’d had no hesitation about stepping into the fray there.

‘Just stay here.’ He laid a comforting hand upon her arm and then he was gone, darting through the doorway like an avenger, keen to surprise whoever might still be inside.

Naomi pulled her phone from her coat pocket and stabbed at the buttons, dialling for the police. Once she’d reported the break-in, she stepped towards her flat, her legs trembling, her knees weak.

She’d heard no sounds from within. No sudden clashing of Titans, no battle, no fight for survival. Whoever had broken in must be long gone. Feeling sick, she peered through the doorway. ‘Dr Williams?’

‘It’s okay. You can come in, there’s no one here!’

She stepped forward, into the small hall and then through the doorway to her lounge-kitchen.

It was as if a typhoon had swept through it. Sofa cushions had been tossed around, her coffee table knocked over and broken, her books strewn all over the floor. The few pictures she’d found at a market—nothing special, just bright prints—were on the floor, their frames smashed, the glass cracked and broken.

All of her precious belongings had been tossed around, as if they were nothing but rubbish at a dump. The sense of loss and devastation was overwhelming. With her hand over her face, she began to feel a tremble overtake her body, until she was shuddering and shaking, sobs gasping from her body as if every intake of breath were a desperate struggle for survival.

Tom frowned from his place in the kitchen and stood awkwardly as she cried.

She had no idea how long she stood there like that, just crying. For the loss of her things, for the loss of her privacy, for the uncaring way in which her things had been used and tossed aside. She’d never claimed to be rich, or to have expensive objects that she treasured, but this had been her very first venture out into the world to stand on her own two feet alone. The items she’d gathered in that home might have been from car boot sales or markets or pound shops, but they’d been hers. They’d each been treasured and valued as they’d arrived in her home to take their place and make the hole that she was living in a beautiful, homely place to be. Or at least, an attempt at one.

That someone had forced their way in, breaking and trashing everything … well, it broke her heart. So she cried.

And she cried. Until suddenly she realised she wasn’t crying any more and Tom had started trying to sort through her belongings. He’d been picking up books and ornaments, trying to straighten them, trying to return them to their rightful place.

She couldn’t look him in the eye. Had she not embarrassed herself enough in front of this man, today? Falling from a ladder. Being rescued from a drunk. Being heard as she cried like a baby? That last had been the most horrifying. It was embarrassing. Crying always made other people feel incredibly awkward and she didn’t need to look at him to know how much he wanted to leave, but was staying because he now felt obligated.

What am I putting this man through, today? The impression I’m making is terrible!

‘It’s okay, you can go. I’ll wait here for the police. I’ll deal with it. You must have things to do.’

‘I’ll stay.’

She found an old tissue in her pocket and she pulled it out to wipe her nose and then dab at her eyes. She must look a sight! Her eyes would be all puffy and her face all red …

‘No, really, you don’t have to …’

‘I’ll stay until you’re done with the police. Then, you’ll need someplace to go. I won’t feel safe with you sleeping here on your own tonight. It won’t be secure.’

‘The police will fix the door.’

‘With a sheet of plyboard. Hardly Fort Knox. I won’t leave you here with that as your sole defence against the world in this neighbourhood.’

A short brief smile found its way onto her ravaged features. She was appreciative of his kindness. He clearly wasn’t all gruffness. ‘Thank you.’

‘Now you ought to check to see if anything’s missing.’

She nodded. He was right. There were only a few things that really meant anything to her. Her photos of her and Vincent. Her old wedding ring in her bedside table that she never wore to work, as jewellery wasn’t allowed.

Alone in the bedroom, she made the grim discovery that the ring was gone, stolen. Along with some cheaper bits of jewellery that she’d bought and an old watch.

She felt strangely empty as she recounted what was missing to the police when they arrived.

Throughout it all, Tom was kind and attentive. He just sat there and listened to her ramble, making them both a cup of tea and heaping hers with sugar for the shock.

Although it had been caused by a terrible situation, Naomi found herself enjoying their conversation. Just sitting and talking to someone. Something she hadn’t truly experienced since Vincent had passed. She missed him greatly, but she knew he was in a better place. No longer in pain. No longer a prisoner in his own body. No longer feeling guilty for what he’d done to her life.

So it was nice just to sit and talk. Even if it was only happening because she’d been burgled!

Her first day at work had gone fine. It was only the things that had happened after her shift that had been so awful! Now, after being berated by her boss and saved by him from physical assault, she was being comforted by him. He might not be the most smiley individual in the world, but he was being kind.

‘You need to pack some clothes for an overnight stay.’

‘Right.’ He was right. Being practical would also help to take her mind off what had happened. She couldn’t stay here. The place felt violated. Dirty. She didn’t want to have to stay there a moment longer than she had to. ‘You’re right …’

‘What is it?’

She bit her lip. ‘I have nowhere to go.’

‘You must have family?’

‘They’re all up north. A four-hour drive away.’

He frowned. ‘Friends?’

‘I’ve just moved here. I don’t know anyone.’

‘Of course not.’ He let out a heavy sigh, his hands on his hips. ‘A hotel?’

She winced at having to admit it. ‘I couldn’t afford it.’

‘Right. I suppose you’ll have to come to mine, then. For the night. I can take you to work in the morning, too.’

Naomi tried hard not to show how horrified she was by the thought of having to share a living space with the one man whom she’d humiliated herself in front of so much today.

She couldn’t stay at his. They’d only just met and, yes, he was her boss, but he was also a prickly individual, standoffish and cool. He already clearly thought of her as incompetent and now he was offering to share his home with her …

Seriously … she couldn’t accept his offer.

‘That’s very gracious of you, but—’

‘Then it’s settled. Pack your things and let’s get going.’

Her mouth dropped open for a moment and when she became aware that she probably looked like a landed goldfish, she closed it again and headed to her bedroom.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_1605f18f-f46d-5194-95a7-d75b1d94549e)


NAOMI WAS IN her bedroom, packing her clothes into a suitcase, as Tom sat on the torn-up sofa and stared into space.

Nurse Naomi Bloom.

What had happened?

He’d been his usual work-focused self. He’d been on call all night in the hospital and then he’d worked a full twelve-hour shift in A&E on top of that. He always did what was needed. Worked hard. He treated patients and kept his mind on work.

It was what worked for him. The work was a salve. A sticking plaster over the savage gash that was his heart. If he worked, if he took care of patients, if he investigated their ills, then he didn’t have to focus on his own. His own pain. His own grief. Work kept the hurt firmly in its box where he never had to pay it any attention.

He’d been on his way home. Heading back for a shower, a change of clothes, maybe a quick four-hour nap. Then he’d planned on coming back to work.

But then he’d seen this woman climbing up a wobbly ladder, a ladder she should never have been up in the first place, on her own. He’d seen her reaching out for things that she hadn’t got a chance in hell of reaching.

He’d seen how badly it had wobbled and he’d dropped his own briefcase and caught her, feeling the weight of her fall into his arms. He’d looked into her eyes up close, those pools of liquid brown, flecked with gold and green, and had felt a smack of something hard in his gut.

He’d intended to give her a dressing-down there and then. To yell at her for being so stupid and complacent, but in the fall her long hazelnut hair had come loose of its clip and lain over his arm, soft and silken, and it had taken a moment for him to realise that he’d been staring at her for much too long and that he really ought to let her go. The way you let go of a dangerous animal before it could bite or sting you.

She’d been unthinking in her actions. She’d assumed she would be okay, that somehow the rules didn’t apply to her, and she’d been wrong.

Her beauty had thrown him briefly. There had been a second, maybe two, in which he’d momentarily been stunned by those chocolate eyes of hers, but then he’d cast those distracting thoughts to one side.

So she was attractive. So what? Beauty counted for nothing in his department. He needed solid workers. Excellent nurses. Team players. People who played by the rules. Not lone rangers who thought the whole world ought to revolve around them.

She’d blushed, looked embarrassed and had glanced down and away from him. His insides had twisted at her sweetness, flipping and tumbling like an acrobat in the Cirque du Soleil and the sensation had so startled him that he’d almost been unable to speak.

Offering to help her with the tree had seemed logical. Gentlemanly. A way for him to gather his thoughts and reactions. To make sure she stayed safe. And give him time to put his own walls back up.

But it had been more than that. Exactly what, he couldn’t say. It had been a long time since a woman had disturbed him like that.

Not since Meredith …

He looked at the rest of Naomi’s things dashed across the floor and started to pick them up again, trying to find places for them, trying to find order in the chaos.

He hadn’t thought about Meredith for ages.

But that was a good thing surely. It meant he was moving on, didn’t it? For too long, it had been a painful, persistent memory. When he’d thought of his wife, it had been about the days following the accident—sitting at her bedside in hospital, holding her hand, praying that she would wake, praying that she would recover. Holding out hope for her.

As the years had passed, the better memories of his time with Meredith had come to the fore. He was able to remember the good times they’d shared. Their happiness on their wedding day. Their love. The pain and grief was still inside would still torment him when he allowed it to, but it had taken on a different form recently.

His vow to never get involved with another woman, never to open his heart up to another, had held strong. He could never love another the way he’d loved his wife; it just wasn’t possible.

Until now, he’d never had to doubt himself, or feel that that vow was threatened in any way.

Yet something about Naomi Bloom needled him. In the short time he’d known her, she’d practically demanded his attention, his protection, his help. He’d been forced to get involved. No decent man would have left her to fend for herself with Mick. No gentleman would have walked away from her after the burglary. When he’d found out she had nowhere to go, there’d been no other sensible option but to ask her to stay.

It would be difficult having her in his home. But he could stay out of her way. It would be all above board. She could have Meredith’s old craft room that he’d turned into a spare bedroom during one mad weekend of decorating before he’d thought of what to do with his time and his life to cope with his grief.

One night to allow Naomi to get proper locks for her doors, better security. It was just about one colleague helping another. It was about being a decent human being.

One night only.

She opened her bedroom door and came out, lugging a heavy suitcase with her. He got up to take it from her and lifted it easily. ‘A lot of clothes for one night!’

‘I’d rather not leave anything here to be stolen. Just in case.’

‘Is there anything else you want to take?’

‘There was some paperwork, but I’ve packed that away. I’m ready to go.’

He nodded. ‘I guess we’d better get going, then. Are you hungry? Would you like me to pick us up something to eat on the way home?’

‘Oh! Well, only if you’re eating, too. I don’t want to get in your way or disrupt your routine any more than I already have.’

‘You haven’t disrupted me at all,’ he said, picking up her case and heading for the front door, hoping she couldn’t see the lie in his eyes.

They walked back to the hospital car park in silence. He put her suitcase in the boot of his car and then opened the passenger door for her. She looked surprised, smiled a thank you and then slid into the seat. He closed her door and walked round to his side, his mind going a mile a minute.

The only woman to have set foot in his home had been Meredith and that was, of course, because she had lived there. Now he would be bringing home a stranger, a very attractive stranger, one who he hoped he could keep his distance from until she moved out. It ought to be easy, he thought. His penthouse flat was pretty large, and it was just one night.

If all else fails, I’ll just put on my headphones and wear a blindfold.

Dr Williams’s home was amazing. She’d never seen anything like it. She felt like Cinderella—going from her poor, ragamuffin lifestyle to this rich, sumptuous, stunning elegance that all seemed too much to take in.

His flat was on the top floor, not the bottom, like hers. The square footage must have been in the thousands and the space was open-plan, all glass windows, wooden floors and soft leather sofas. It had a minimalist element to it but looked nothing like what she’d expected from a single man. There were even fresh flowers on top of a grand piano in the corner of the living room.

He saw her notice them. ‘My cleaner brings them in.’

She nodded, touching the long green stems. ‘That’s kind of her.’

‘She insists. Tells me it brightens up the place. Makes it welcoming.’ He didn’t sound convinced.

‘She’s right.’ Her fingers slid over the smooth black sheen of the piano. ‘You play?’

He nodded. ‘A little. You?’

She blew out a little puff of air. ‘I could probably manage chopsticks if you reminded me how to do it.’

He smiled grimly, a darkness to his eyes. Was there pain there? Something … As if a part of him was missing. Or as if there was a part he was hiding, or at least trying to.

‘You have a lovely home, Dr Williams.’

‘Tom.’

She looked at him and smiled, feeling strange using his first name like that. ‘Tom, okay.’

He looked about him as if seeing the flat for the first time. ‘Let me show you to your room. Then you can settle, or I could make us something to eat. You must be hungry—it’s been a long night.’

‘You cook?’

‘Yes.’

‘From scratch?’

‘Is there any other way?’ He pulled up the handle on her suitcase and wheeled it across the floor behind him.

Naomi followed him down a corridor and through a door and suddenly she found herself standing in a bedroom that was as big as her whole flat. ‘Wow. It’s beautiful.’

‘There’s closet space … plenty of hangers. The bathroom is back through here; it’s the door to your right.’

She followed him through the doorway into the bathroom and the light came on all by itself, controlled by a sensor. She smiled and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked a mess! Her face was pale, yet blotchy and her hair all over the place, whereas Tom stood beside her, coolly detached, perfectly groomed.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she ran a hand through her hair in an effort to control it. ‘I’ll probably have a bath, if that’s okay?’

‘Sure.’

‘Thank you, Tom. For everything. You’ve gone above and beyond today.’ Her voice began to wobble as she spoke and she swallowed hard, forcing back the tears of gratitude. She hated crying when she didn’t mean to, but sometimes it seemed like her body was just so overwhelmed by certain stressful situations that she couldn’t stop herself.

But she would not cry in front of him again!

He simply smiled and backed away, most likely pleased to be escaping her tumultuous existence.

Naomi went back to the spare room and sank onto the bed, looking around her. What curious twist of fate had intervened in her life today? A new job. A burglary. And a soft place to fall. At least for tonight.

Sighing, she pulled off her coat and hung it up on the back of the door. She’d run herself a bath, maybe have a bite to eat and then hopefully she’d get a good night’s sleep.

She didn’t expect she would. It had been one heck of a day! And now she was suddenly living in her boss’s home. That felt … odd. She didn’t know him and the understanding he must have of her at this point was tenuous. He obviously didn’t let people get too close. Everything about the man screamed ‘keep away!’ but he’d been generous and offered her a bed for the night when she’d had no other choice. That was good of him, right?

She was going to have to think of a way to thank him for this.

A huge thank you indeed.

Tom stood in his kitchen furiously whisking eggs for some omelettes. It felt strange knowing that he wasn’t alone. That there was someone else in his home. A woman. A beautiful woman. And a work colleague, no less.

That would get the hospital grapevine going, no doubt. Especially if they arrived for work tomorrow together in his car. Perhaps he could let her get out at an earlier point?

He shook his head. Was he really that rude? Or worried about his reputation? Of course not. Everyone knew him at work. He was dedicated, honest, hard-working. No lad-about-town, causing outrageous rumours.

Besides, they might be lucky. No one might notice.

Naomi was in Merry’s room. The room she had used as a craft room, making cards, decoupage and that other thing she’d done … quilling? Or something like that. She’d been so talented at it. Sometimes he’d gone into that room to see what she was working on and had been amazed at this beautifully constructed hummingbird or peacock or mythical creature, all made out of coloured curls of paper. He remembered her smiling face looking up at him and saying, ‘What do you think?’

And now Naomi was in there. Did she know? Could she sense it? He’d barely been able to stay in there and it had taken all his strength to redecorate it. To change it from what it had been. To take away the pain of the once pale blue walls.

They were a peach colour now. He’d not been in there since he’d painted it, except to change the bedding.

All the crafting stuff was gone, packed away. Some of it he’d given away. Instead, he’d installed a big wrought-iron bed in there along with bespoke beech furniture. It was all very plain. Simple. For guests. Not that he’d been expecting any guests. But if he gave the room a purpose, rather than it just lying empty, he could forget about his dreams for that room and what he’d once hoped it would turn out to be.

A nursery. Because one day, he and Merry would have tried to start a family. They’d talked about it anyway …

It would never be that now. And now it was Naomi’s room. For one night anyway.

He tried to focus on the eggs, on grating cheese, on slicing courgettes and mushrooms, but his brain kept on torturing him with the image of her eyes, the way she’d looked up at him when he’d caught her falling from that ladder.

This was crazy! Why should it bother him what her eyes had looked like? Or that her skin had been smooth like porcelain, that her lips had looked full and soft? They were just work colleagues. Just associates. He was helping her out.

He whisked the eggs harder, trying not to think about her. He tried to focus on all the work he needed to get through tomorrow, but he could only envision her face and the way she’d felt in his arms …

Cursing, he put down the bowl of eggs and just stood still for a moment. Perhaps what he needed was a breather. A moment of mindfulness, to get himself back on track. He thought of the patients he’d seen that day. Their cases. The injuries. The treatments. The protocols.

Yes. That was working.

The door to the guest room opened and out walked Naomi in a thigh-length robe, with her hair all scooped up in a towel.

He quickly picked up the eggs and whisked them some more. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘I’m starving.’

‘Good.’ He tried not to breathe in all the aromas that she’d somehow brought out with her. There was a hint of lavender and something else sweet, warm and clean. She perched herself on a stool at his breakfast bar and he saw long, toned legs and dainty feet with pink-painted toenails. ‘I’ll make a start, then.’

‘Can’t wait.’

He swallowed hard and turned his back.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_d9730932-7976-5438-bad6-ec71721882d4)


SHE WOKE WITH a start, a bad dream about smelly men in balaclavas still in her consciousness as she blinked quickly and looked about the strange room. Then she remembered.

Tom’s.

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Five-forty-two a.m. It was early. But she had to be at work at seven, ready for the shift handover at seven-fifteen, so there didn’t seem much point in trying to go back to sleep. She’d be getting up in twenty minutes anyway. Throwing off the covers, she got up and quickly made her bed, before getting dressed.

She moved quietly, hoping not to disturb Tom. She’d already put him out enough yesterday, especially last night when her presence had meant he couldn’t even relax in his own home. The last thing she wanted was to wake him early and disturb his sleep pattern.

He was a good man, she thought. Despite the prickly exterior. He’d opened his home to a complete stranger, giving her the space she’d needed to just settle and breathe and get over her stressful day.

After their omelettes last night—which, due to something magical he’d done with Tabasco sauce and tomatoes, had been the most incredible she had ever tasted—he had wished her goodnight and disappeared to his room. She had watched him go, silent and strong, his long, lean figure moving gracefully like a cat into the shadows.

She’d taken the opportunity to look around his living space and discovered that Dr Tom Williams seemed very much a solitary man. There was no room for sentiment here. Each piece of furniture or decor had been chosen for its aesthetic appeal, rather than being some old family heirloom. There were no pictures on the walls of family or loved ones, no photo albums. Every surface was clean and uncluttered and only his bookshelves showed some hint to his character—clearly work focused, as all his books had been medical texts.

Was work all he thought about? She saw no sign of any other interest. There were no knick-knacks lying around like those she’d had all over the place. No personal touches. There was just the piano and, even then, she wondered if that was for him to play, or just another element of style. The only homely touch—the flowers—had been brought in by his cleaner.

But Naomi was thankful that he was focused on his work. Because apart from that small chat they’d had whilst he’d been preparing food in the kitchen, he had left her alone. He’d given her space, stayed out of her way.

It was his home and he was hiding in it. Perhaps he wasn’t that thrilled to have her here after all? Perhaps he had felt compelled to suggest that she stay with him because he thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Tom certainly seemed like a gentleman, from the little she knew of him.

Still, she felt safe getting up this early and having a few minutes to herself before he surfaced. Perhaps she could make him a coffee and some toast, or cereal. She had no idea if he would be a cereal type of man. A quick look in his kitchen would tell her what she wanted to know. But it would be good to do something nice for him to show her appreciation. After all, later today she would be out of his hair.

She opened her bedroom door and was surprised to find all the lights on and Tom already up and about in his kitchen. He looked over at her. ‘Good morning. Sleep well?’

She wasn’t used to being greeted like that in the mornings, even when she’d been married. Back then, she’d fall sleep, exhausted, after a long, physical day and when she woke and went into her husband’s room, the first words out of his mouth would usually be to tell her what sort of a night he’d had. Whether he’d got any sleep at all. There had been no hellos. No good mornings.

‘I slept very well, thank you. You?’

‘Seven hours. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Breakfast?’

She stood on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. ‘I was going to make you breakfast. I didn’t think you’d be up yet.’ She saw he must have been up for quite a while—his hair was still slightly damp from the shower, the auburn a deeper red whilst it was wet, and his jawline was freshly shaved.

‘What would you like?’

‘Just toast for me.’

‘Anything on it? Jam? Honey? Marmalade?’

‘You have all of those?’ She smiled.

‘I do.’

She liked watching him in the kitchen. He seemed at home in it. ‘Marmalade will be lovely.’

He cut two fresh slices from a large bloomer and popped the bread in the toaster, then poured her a coffee from a cafetière and passed her the milk and sugar.

‘You’re very domesticated, Dr Williams.’

He paused briefly to consider her words. ‘Because I can make toast and pour coffee?’

‘Because you know how to make someone feel welcome. I can appreciate it must be hard to have a stranger in your home, but you’ve made me feel like it’s okay to be here, so … thank you.’

His ocean-blue eyes met her mocha brown just for a brief second. He gave a quick glance of gratitude, of appreciation and then looked away again, busying himself with the breakfast. ‘Any idea of what you’re going to do about your flat?’

He was changing the subject. She wondered if she’d made him uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know. I’ve got work first, so I guess I’ll have to sort it out later.’

‘Everywhere will be closed later. Why don’t you take the day off?’

‘On my second day? No chance. No, I’ll just have to hope for the best. Find someone to fix the door somewhere …’

He looked torn, as if he had something to say, but couldn’t say it.

The toast popped up and he handed it over on a plate, piping hot, along with a choice of marmalades, one with bits and one without.

‘Oh … er … thank you.’

‘It’s no problem.’

She hoped he was telling the truth.

‘Josephine McDonald?’

Her first patient of the day had already been seen by the triage nurse, who had noted on her card that earlier that day Josephine had misused her father’s nail gun and had a six-inch nail shot through the end of her index finger.

Naomi looked out across the waiting room and watched as a young woman stood up, grimaced and then walked over to her, clutching at her left hand that was wrapped up in a tea towel.

It was an impressive-looking nail.

‘Let’s take a look at that, shall we?’ Naomi walked Josephine back to a cubicle and sat her down, pulling the curtain closed. ‘So, how did this happen?’ She took hold of her patient’s hand, slowly turning it this way and that, to see what damage had been caused.

‘I was helping my dad out with a job. He’s a carpenter and he was letting me use the nail gun. I got … distracted … and somehow my finger ended up getting pierced.’

Naomi could understand. She was the accidental type, too. ‘What distracted you?’

Josephine blushed. ‘A guy.’

Naomi smiled at her patient. ‘Oh. I see. Was he worth it?’

Josephine nodded enthusiastically. ‘Oh, yes! Definitely!’ She sighed dramatically. ‘What can I say? A girl gets her head turned by a handsome man and always gets hurt.’

Naomi smiled again and checked for capillary refill on the girl’s nail, which was fine, and stroked her finger. ‘Can you feel this? And this?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I don’t think there’s any nerve damage. Can you bend the finger?’

‘Yes. But I can feel it pulling on the nail.’

‘We’ll need an X-ray to make sure it’s not gone through the bone and if you get the all-clear we can pull it out. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?’

Josephine blanched. ‘I think so. Just a year or two ago. Pull it out? Won’t that hurt?’

‘We’ll do a nerve block beforehand and you can suck on some gas and air if you need it. Is your father with you? Someone to hold your hand?’

‘Dad’s in the waiting area.’

‘Didn’t you bring the hot guy with you?’

‘Er … no. Apparently he doesn’t do well with blood.’

‘Right.’ She smiled.

‘What can you do? You see a hot guy, you have to give him the old “come hither” look. I just wasn’t coordinated enough to be alluring and shoot a nail.’

Naomi smiled, trying to picture herself giving anyone a ‘come hither’ look. But then she stopped herself. Why would she do that? She wasn’t looking for a relationship. She was happy being single and independent for a while. This was her first foray into the world alone, without her mother sticking her oar in, or without having to consider her husband’s needs. She was finally free to do as she pleased.

‘It’s not bleeding, so let’s get you round to X-ray.’ She turned in her chair, reaching for the X-ray referral card, and filled in the details. ‘Take this—’ she handed it over and reopened the cubicle curtain ‘—and head straight down, follow the red line on the floor, round to the right and past the second set of chairs. Put the card in the slot and they’ll call you through when they’re ready.’

‘Thanks.’

She watched the patient walk away and then started to clean down the cubicle. They hadn’t really used it, but she stripped the bed of its paper sheet, wiped it down with clinical cleansing wipes and redid the sheet. As she did so the cubicle curtain next to hers was whipped open. ‘Dr Williams!’

Was her heart beating just a little faster than normal? It definitely felt that way. She took a steadying breath to calm herself and inwardly gave herself a dressing-down. There was no need to get nervous with the man. He was her boss, yes, but that was all he was. She’d be moving out of his flat later.

‘Nurse Bloom.’

He dismissed his patient, who hobbled away on newly acquired crutches, and then he turned back to smile at her. He looked very dashing today in his dark navy trousers and matching waistcoat against a crisp white shirt. She had to admit she did like a man that dressed well. Vincent had always worn quite loose-fitting clothes like tracksuit bottoms and T-shirts. They had been the easiest things to dress him in and he’d liked to feel comfortable whilst in his wheelchair. So to see a man who knew how to dress well, who took pride in his appearance, without being vain, was a nice thing to see and enjoy.

‘The department looks decidedly less Christmassy today.’

She laughed good-naturedly. ‘Yes. There should be hearts going up soon, in readiness for Valentine’s.’ She blushed slightly at the inference she’d made that it was time for hearts and romance. Her mind scrabbled to redirect their conversation. ‘Or perhaps eggs for Easter? I’m sure the shops have them already.’

‘You like to celebrate all the holidays?’

Naomi shrugged as she walked alongside him back to the central desk where a lot of the staff filled in paperwork or checked information on the computer. ‘Well, I like the chocolate aspect. Is that wrong?’

‘Absolutely not. In fact, I think it’s almost law.’ He sat down at the desk, opened his file and started writing his notes.

She noted his hands. He had fine hands, with long fingers, like a pianist’s. So, perhaps he did play that beautiful instrument in his home. He wore a simple band on his middle finger, which might have been tungsten, or platinum. It looked as if it could be a wedding band, but it was on the wrong digit.

It’s none of my business.

Irritated with her own response to that thought, Naomi picked up the next card from triage and glanced at it. It was a child with a head wound. As she went to leave she heard Tom’s voice call her name.

‘Nurse Bloom?’

Turning, she looked at him, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the flicker of muscle as he clenched and unclenched it, as if he were debating with himself. ‘Yes?’

‘When you have a moment … when you have a break, would you come and find me? There’s something I’d like to run past you.’

Run past me?

‘Have I done something wrong?’ She frowned, not knowing what it could be and worried that she might be in trouble again already. Now her heart really was pounding in her chest.

‘No. Just … something personal. That’s all.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Something personal.

That’s all.

She wondered what it could be. Maybe she’d done something she shouldn’t have done back at his flat. Had she left something out of place? Not put the lid back on the toothpaste, or something? He might be picky about things like that. It had certainly been neat. Everything in its place.

Worried, she headed back to the waiting room and called her next patient.

After she’d seen the child with the head injury, Naomi dealt with an elderly lady with a bad chest infection, then a sprained wrist and after that a young man with a buildup of blood behind his fingernail that needed releasing. Whilst she treated them all, she worried about what it was that Tom was going to ask her.

Something personal.

If it had nothing to do with work, then what could it be? He knew nothing about her, really. She’d made her bed in the flat. She’d cleaned up after herself, and been the perfect guest, hopefully. As her break time arrived she let the sister know she was going and then she began to look for Tom, her stomach in knots, her mouth dry.

She did not need complications. She’d had enough of those to last a lifetime. This was the start of her new life. She’d moved away from her old one and had come here to London, to the city, to prove to herself that she was independent and strong and could live her own life, with her own rules. This was her chance to be free of routine and stress. To only have to worry about herself.

Maybe he was going to ask her to make sure she moved out by the end of the day. She hoped not. After a full day shift until four p.m., she’d be lucky to have time to get back to her flat on St Bartholomew’s Road and then find someone to fix her door, or a locksmith to add locks. She also wondered how much it would all cost. She didn’t have bags of money and the small amount of savings she did have was meant to go towards a deposit on a better place. It wasn’t supposed to pay for repairs to an old flat she didn’t even like!

Tom was at the doctors’ desk when she finally found him.

‘Tom. I’m on my break now.’ She fidgeted with the pens in her top pocket and straightened her fob watch.

‘Let’s grab a coffee and a bite to eat.’

He walked her up to the cafeteria and bought both of them a cappuccino. He ordered a grilled breakfast for himself and when he asked her what she wanted she just shook her head. ‘You’ve got to have something.’ He placed a yoghurt and a banana onto his tray and, once he’d paid for it, they settled down at a table.

‘You’re probably wondering what this is about?’

She smiled and watched him tuck into his food with gusto. It did smell delicious and she tried to ignore the gorgeous scent of bacon and what smelt like pork and leek sausage as she opened her peach yoghurt. ‘You’ve got me curious.’

‘I want to help you.’

She sat in the seat opposite, staring at him, waiting for the axe to fall. ‘Okay.’

‘In the interests of my wanting the department to run smoothly, I’d like you to feel you could stay at my place. For an extra day or two whilst you get your flat sorted.’

‘Stay? I thought—’

‘It’s not ideal, I know, but I’ve been thinking about your situation and I would feel remiss if you felt that you had to leave when your circumstances aren’t exactly sorted.’

She blushed. Wow. She had not been expecting that. ‘That’s very generous of you, Tom. Thank you.’

He sipped his coffee. ‘Not generous. I’m just being practical.’

Practical. Right.

Tom saw her face change. The uncertainty and nervousness that had been there a moment before dissipated and surprise and relief manifested themselves instead.

He’d almost been as surprised about the offer himself. If someone had asked him yesterday whether he’d have taken in a waif or stray, he would have said no. If someone had asked him if he would then have offered that beautiful young woman the chance to stay in his own home for a few more days he would have said they were crazy.

Last night he’d felt uncomfortable with her being there. He’d made as little interaction as he could get away with without being rude. But he’d looked out for her, cooked for her, talked to her a little and had found himself intrigued. He was interested by this woman whom he’d suddenly acquired in his department and in his life.

Not that he was interested in her in that way. There was no point in pursuing that. There was only ever one true love, one true soulmate for a person, and he’d already met his, even if she had been taken from him too soon. Meredith had been killed in a tragic accident that had taken her from him before they’d even had their first full year of marriage. His heart had truly belonged to her and now he kept it locked away, safe and protected from the outside world where cruel things happened and people in love were tormented. No, there were going to be no more women for Tom Williams.

They were off-limits. Even if last night he’d been plagued with thoughts of Naomi in the next room. He’d lied to her about getting that good night’s sleep. He should have had seven hours. But instead, he’d lain in his bed, thinking about her, seeing those long legs that had emerged after her bath, gazing into those eyes of hers that he couldn’t bear to look at for longer than a second in case she saw the interest in his own eyes. Oh, and the way that she laughed. The way her whole face lit up with genuine joy when she did.

So he couldn’t allow himself to think about Naomi. She was everything that went against his self-imposed rules. But he could help her with her living situation.

‘This is so unexpected.’

He nodded. ‘Yes. But expecting you to get your place sorted in one night seems both impossible and impractical. St Bartholomew’s Road? It’s not a nice place. I’m sorry. I’m not normally judgemental, but you seem to deserve … better.’

‘And I can stay at yours for the next few days?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t believe it! That’s so sweet of you. Are you sure? Don’t you want to know more about me? I mean, I could be a crazy axe murderer, or something.’

‘I know enough. And if you handled an axe on a regular basis, I’m sure you’d be missing a limb or something by now, from what I’ve seen so far. My place is big enough for us both to be able to do our own thing. We won’t get in each other’s way. And then, with a few days’ grace, you can find a better flat. Something more suitable.’

‘Less rough, you mean?’

‘Less … challenging.’ He smiled at her quickly, then looked away. He’d been thinking hard about this all morning. Did he really want to do this? Could he really open up his home to a stranger? It had already been odd having her there in Meredith’s old room. It had been strange knowing she was there doing whatever it was that women did when they spent ages in the bathroom, but … he could arrange it for them so they had different shift patterns so that they wouldn’t be running into each other all the time.

Naomi sat forward and this time sipped her drink, thinking carefully. ‘Why do you want to help me?’

Because I can’t get you out of my head and the idea of you living in that dump terrifies me.

‘Because I think anyone would deserve better.’ He couldn’t tell her it was because he’d actually quite liked seeing her there this morning. He’d liked having someone to talk to, even if it was only briefly, over breakfast. Normally, once he was dressed, he’d head straight out to work, not talking to another soul until he arrived.

This morning had been different and he’d found he liked it. It had been like it had when Meredith was around.




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