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The Midwife's Marriage Proposal
Sarah Morgan
Obstetrician Tom Hunter last saw Sally Jenner when he broke off their relationship to concentrate on his career. Hurt and confused, Sally had left the Lake District…Now she's back – working in Tom’s department as the new midwife, and on dangerous assignments with him and the mountain rescue team!Caught up amid the drama of saving lives, Tom realises he wants Sally back in his life. But Sally refuses to risk her heart a second time. She'll settle for an affair, but Tom has decided that this time he wants it all…



The Midwife’s Marriage Proposal
Sarah Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
There’s a new Sally in town!
After seven years, Sally is facing her demons and coming
home. The last time she saw Tom Hunter was when he broke
off their relationship. Will the old chemistry pulling them
back together be stronger than the new Sally?
Find out what happens next in Sarah Morgan’s heartwarming winter romance …

About the Author (#ulink_7bb7a00c-a690-5974-9430-e907f5cc0bf2)
As a child SARAH MORGAN dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.
Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading, Sarah enjoys music, movies and any activity that takes her outdoors.
Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com (http://www.sarahmorgan.com). She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.
Praise for (#ulink_1f59b687-6712-5a4c-9d2c-9ccc65152a49)
Sarah Morgan (#ulink_1f59b687-6712-5a4c-9d2c-9ccc65152a49)
‘Sarah Morgan puts the magic in Christmas!’
Now magazine
‘Full of romance and sparkle’
Lovereading
‘I’ve found an author I adore—must hunt down
everything she’s published.’
Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
‘Morgan is a magician with words.’
RT Book Reviews
‘Dear Ms Morgan, I’m always on the lookout
for a new book by you …’
Dear Author blog
Table of Contents
Cover (#u44cc21a8-e792-584f-8c79-6e463df94a3a)
Title Page (#ucedf02f5-802a-54a9-b0b9-60662692fe77)
About the Author (#u4014206e-690b-58e6-9c24-4567b363e930)
Praise for Sarah Morgan (#u7536ea0e-3b67-5696-a35f-819fe87e0f51)
PROLOGUE (#udc8fada5-2bba-52c9-b34e-678c73b953c4)
CHAPTER ONE (#u3af38ed2-9757-50aa-bbe9-248cbb0f22af)
CHAPTER TWO (#u25f27055-dde2-5e4a-ad5c-9b5f1d344b8d)
CHAPTER THREE (#u3d4552be-25db-5384-b696-cc0ace7b163c)
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)
Preview (#litres_trial_promo)
Once Upon a Christmas by Sarah Morgan (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)



PROLOGUE (#ulink_b64becb7-01e4-5712-8698-a5d9275b600b)
SHE stood with her eyes on the mountains and her face to the wind, breathing in the smell of home.
It had been so long.
Too long.
She felt pressure on her arm and turned to her friend with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For forgetting you were there.’ Sally spread her arms and closed her eyes, letting the freezing air numb her cheeks and the biting wind whip her blonde hair into a tangled frenzy. ‘It just feels so amazing to be back.’
No matter how far she’d travelled, how much of the world she’d explored, the Lake District had always been her home.
When pain and misery had almost destroyed her, she’d come here to seek comfort, and when circumstances had forced her to move away, she’d pined for the comfort of the fells.
‘So why did you stay away so long?’
Sally’s arms dropped to her sides and she whirled round, green eyes blazing. ‘You know why.’
‘Yes.’ Bryony looked anguished. ‘He drove you away.’
‘He didn’t. I chose to leave.’ Sally’s tone was steady and she caught a strand of hair that was blowing in front of her face, anchoring it with slender fingers. ‘But now I’m back.’
And she was never leaving again.
‘What made you come back now? After so long?’
Sally gave a wistful smile. ‘I suppose I’d been thinking about it for a while and then I had your letter telling me that you’d finally married Jack and that Oliver had met someone.’ She broke off, remembering how she’d felt when she’d read everything that had been happening at home. ‘I suddenly realized how much I was missing my old friends. You are the nearest I have to family. I realized that it was time to come back.’
‘He doesn’t know, Sal.’ Bryony’s voice was quiet and Sally nodded.
That was exactly the way she’d planned it. If she was going to be able to hold herself together for that first, agonizing meeting, then she needed to be in a position of control.
‘Thank you for not telling him.’
‘Did you think I would?’
Sally shrugged, her expression guarded as she studied her childhood friend. ‘He’s your brother.’
‘And you’re my best friend.’ Bryony gave a twisted smile. ‘Or at least you were my best friend until Tom broke your heart and you vanished halfway round the world.’
‘Friendships needn’t be compromised by distance.’
Bryony bit her lip. ‘I thought perhaps—’ She shrugged her shoulders, showing how helpless she felt. ‘I’m his sister, after all.’
Sally stirred. ‘And you and I were best friends before he and I were lovers.’
‘How will you—?’ Bryony broke off and licked her lips. ‘You’re going to be working with him, Sally. Won’t it be difficult for you?’
‘No.’ Sally lifted her chin, applying the rigid self-discipline that she’d cultivated over the past seven years. ‘It won’t be difficult.’
Tom Hunter was part of her past. She’d learned to live without him. His rejection had hurt her so badly that for a while she’d thought she’d never recover. But she’d put all that behind her. She’d built a new life, pushed herself to the limits in a fevered determination never to give herself time to stand still and contemplate. And in the process she’d enjoyed experiences that to most people were just a dream. And developed a self-confidence that had given her the courage to come home.
‘I can’t believe you applied for a job in his department.’
Sally gave a casual shrug. ‘I’m a midwife, Bry, and this is a small community. How many departments are there?’
And it was part of the test she’d set herself. To see how far she’d come in seven years.
‘You could have gone to a different town.’
‘No. This is my home,’ Sally said softly, her eyes fixed on the mountains with almost naked longing. ‘And I’ve stayed away long enough.’
And she’d pined for long enough.
Finally she’d picked up the pieces, stuck them back together and made herself whole again.
She was ready to face the world.
And she was ready to face Tom Hunter.



CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e8ced077-7bef-5cd1-9321-3e4e6c63603e)
‘SALLY JENNER! I am so pleased to finally meet you.’ Emma’s smile was warm with welcome. ‘I’ve heard such good things about you and we badly need an extra midwife. You are going to be everyone’s most popular person.’
‘Thanks. It’s good to be here.’ Sally smiled at the labour ward sister, but nothing could subdue the nervous fluttering in her stomach. The nerves had been there from the moment she’d made the decision to leave Australia and return home.
From the moment she’d known she would be seeing Tom Hunter again.
She’d prepared herself for this moment for seven years.
But now it was here she was suddenly terrified that she’d let herself down. Reveal something that she didn’t want to reveal.
Feel something that she didn’t want to feel.
What would he look like now? Had her memory exaggerated his masculine appeal? Could any man truly be the god she’d believed him to be?
‘Anything you want to know, just ask me,’ Emma said cheerfully, oblivious to Sally’s anxiety. ‘I know you trained in this hospital, but you’ve been away a while and some things might have changed so I’ll give you a quick tour. We have two operating theatres, six traditional delivery rooms and four “home” rooms, as we call them. In other words, they’re supposed to make people feel that they’re actually in their own bedrooms.’
Sally laughed. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’
‘Well, my bedroom is buried under a ton of unwashed laundry and books that I intend to read at some point and haven’t got round to yet,’ Emma confessed cheerfully, ‘so the rooms certainly don’t look like my home. But I can dream.’
She pushed open a door and Sally followed her inside.
The room had a large double bed and a sofa covered in pretty scatter cushions. There were also magazines and a music system.
Sally gave a nod. ‘Nice. Cosy.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a compromise between giving birth at home and in hospital. Now, come and see the birthing pool.’
They left the room and Emma opened another door and flicked on some lights. ‘We have two, but the other one is in use at the moment.’
Sally walked into the room and looked at the pool. ‘You do a lot of water births?’ She knew that some of her medical colleagues had questioned the safety of water births. ‘The consultants are comfortable with that?’
Emma gave a wry smile. ‘Not all of them. The three older ones much prefer to just whip a woman into Theatre or yank the baby out with forceps the moment her labour starts to take longer than the books say it should. But attitudes are changing as younger consultants join the team.’ She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re ever planning on having a baby here, Tom Hunter is your man. He’s young but he’s brilliant. He has amazingly good instincts and nerves of steel. Unlike some I could mention, he isn’t frightened into C-sectioning everyone.’ Her tone was warm. ‘He thinks that a woman should be allowed to deliver by herself whenever possible and he does his best to let that happen.’
Sally slid a hand over the edge of the birthing pool, careful to hide her expression.
The knowledge that Tom was regarded as some sort of hero in the delivery suite clashed violently with her own negative attitude to the man.
She didn’t want to admire him. It would make it even harder to manage her emotions.
‘So he approves of the pool?’
‘For labour, but not delivery,’ Emma told her, leading the way out of the room and back down the corridor. ‘He also approves of aromatherapy, relaxation techniques and breathing.’
Realizing that some sort of response was expected, Sally managed a smile. ‘He sounds amazing.’
‘He’s very good with the women. Very skilled.’
Sally felt her insides twist viciously but kept her expression neutral. She knew exactly how skilled Tom Hunter was with women.
Swiftly she changed the subject. ‘So I’ll be working on the labour ward?’
‘That’s where we need you for now. We all move around the unit at times, and we try to give a woman a midwife that she knows, but you have a lot of labour ward experience and that’s the most important thing.’ Emma pushed open the door to the staffroom. ‘And this is the most important room on the labour ward. Better take a good look. You won’t get to see much of it.’
Sally walked over to the window and stared at the mountains, lost in their beauty, longing to be out there, walking or climbing. For her, life was a constant battle between her love of the outdoors and her love of midwifery.
She heard a heavy, male tread behind her and froze.
Even without looking she knew it was him.
She felt him.
They shared a connection that was beyond the physical. It had always been that way with them.
He’d truly been her other half. Until he’d torn them apart.
‘Hi, Tom. You’re just in time for a coffee and an introduction to our new midwife.’ Emma’s voice was bright and cheerful, like sunshine playing innocently in front of an approaching storm.
Reminding herself that she’d been rehearsing this exact moment for years, Sally turned, the expression in her green eyes cool and totally devoid of emotion as she brought into play all the skills she’d carefully developed.
He stood in the doorway, powerful legs spread apart in an arrogant pose, his blue eyes fixed on her with shimmering incredulity.
Sally felt the past slide over her like a suffocating cloak and with a determined effort she thrust it aside, reminding herself that the past was all about yesterdays and that she was only interested in today and tomorrow.
And neither was going to feature this man, even if he was straight out of a female fantasy.
And he was.
He’d always been indecently good-looking, she thought numbly, but age and maturity had added a hard edge to his masculinity that would make even the most cynical, man-wary female catch her breath.
And the combination of jet-black hair and blue eyes was a killer.
Resolutely she reined in her feelings, holding them close, reminding herself of the price of loving this man.
It was high. Too high.
She’d paid it once with interest and she wasn’t prepared to pay it again.
So she held that dark gaze steadily and noted the shock that he couldn’t quite conceal with a flicker of feminine satisfaction.
He hadn’t expected her to come home.
But she had. And he was going to have to live with that.
Like it or not, she was back.
And she was staying.
‘Hello, Tom.’ Her voice was cool and formal. Not a tremor, not a shake, not a flicker of emotion. She was proud of herself. ‘It’s been a long time.’
Tom braced his shoulders and tried to counter the shock wave that pulsed through his body.
He’d always known that one day Sally Jenner would walk into his life again. That he’d be forced to stare his past in the face.
Acknowledge the guilt.
It had been seven years and yet he still wasn’t able to remember their final encounter without breaking into a sweat.
He gritted his teeth, telling himself that he’d made the right decision for both of them, even though she hadn’t been able to see it at the time.
At first glance she seemed hardly to have changed. Still the same intriguing green eyes that flashed a hint of rebellion and challenge, still the slim legs, the narrow waist and the delicate curves. She looked as though a strong gust of wind would blow her over, but he knew better. Sally was fit and strong, probably the most athletic woman he’d ever met. She was an accomplished rock-climber, an impressive long-distance runner, and her wildness and courage had stolen his heart. In all the years he’d known her, he’d seen her cry only once.
And that had been the day he’d ended their relationship.
Looking at her soft, perfectly shaped mouth, Tom suddenly had trouble remembering why he’d done it, and he cursed mentally, wishing that he’d had time to prepare himself for her arrival.
Why the hell hadn’t someone told him that she was coming?
Warned him?
‘Does Bryony know you’re here?’
She’d been one of his sister’s closest friends and he knew that they’d kept in touch over the years.
One delicate eyebrow lifted a fraction and he saw the challenge in her green gaze. ‘Of course.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘She failed to mention it.’
‘She probably didn’t think you’d be interested.’
It was a less than subtle reminder that he’d been the one to cut her out of his life and Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck, seriously discomfited for the first time in his thirty-four years.
If he’d known she was coming back, he would have had time to prepare—would have somehow arranged for them to have their first meeting in private. Clearly there were things that needed to be said.
As if reminding them both that they weren’t alone, Emma gave a little cough.
‘You know each other?’ Her tone pulsed with a curiosity that she couldn’t hide and she glanced between them with interest.
Sally smiled, nothing in her expression suggesting that she was anything other than totally relaxed. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Her tone suggested a casual acquaintance of long standing, a relationship with no real attachment on either side.
Remembering the explosive passion they’d shared, Tom wondered how she’d managed to forget the incredible intimacies that had bound them together.
And then he looked into those cool green eyes and realized that she hadn’t forgotten.
Neither had she forgiven.
In those green eyes he saw disdain where there had once been adoration, contempt where that had once been unconditional love.
He drew breath slowly, shocked by how severely that contempt unsettled him.
And yet what had he expected?
Had he known she was coming, how would he have anticipated their reunion?
Sally Jenner had every reason to hate him.
‘I heard you were working in the Himalayas.’ Suddenly he wanted to know everything about her. Where she’d been, what she’d been doing. When she’d stopped crying over him.
‘Among other places.’ Her reply was intentionally vague and he saw the flash in those green depths and understood.
Mind your own business, her eyes said. What do you care, anyway?
‘And where are you living now?’
He needed to know. There were things he had to say to her and they certainly couldn’t be said in public.
She ignored his question, her gaze turning to Emma who was still watching them in awed silence. ‘Sorry. This must be very boring for you and I’m sure we need to get on with some work.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, if you two want to catch up, I can—’
‘Not at all,’ Sally interrupted her smoothly, moving away from the window and making her way towards the door. ‘We’ve said hello. It was nice to see you, Tom.’
With a few casually spoken words she’d dismissed him as unimportant and Tom wrestled with an inexplicable impulse to power her against the wall and remind her just what they’d shared.
But that would be a totally illogical response, of course, given that he’d been the one to walk away from their relationship.
He’d thrown their relationship away. So why was he now questioning that decision?
Because in thirty-four years he’d never met another woman who stirred his blood like Sally Jenner.
It was only after she’d left the room that he realized that she hadn’t said where she was living.
He narrowed his eyes. There was one person who would definitely know where she was living.
His sister, Bryony.
‘I can’t believe you know Tom,’ Emma breathed as they walked back down the corridor. ‘You didn’t mention it when I talked about him.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ Sally said smoothly, wishing desperately that she could escape for just five minutes to gather together her scattered emotions. But there was no chance of that.
Almost as soon as they left the staffroom, one of the other midwives appeared, looking stressed.
‘We’ve had two admissions in the last five minutes and one of them is Angela Norris. She’s in a state.’
Emma gave a sigh and turned to Sally. ‘Do you mind being thrown in at the deep end?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Angela isn’t going to be easy to look after. She’s only recently moved to the area and she’s going to need a lot of care and attention. This is her second baby. The first was born by Caesarean section and she was promised a section again in her last hospital, but Tom isn’t keen on sectioning women unless there’s no alternative. He’s told her that he wants her to aim for a normal delivery. She isn’t very happy about the whole thing, to be honest.’
Sally felt her whole body tense. ‘So …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Tom will be monitoring her?’
‘Oh, yes—he’ll keep a very close eye on her, especially if he’s concerned about that scar.’
Which meant that she’d be working with him right from the start, with no chance to collect herself.
Sally closed her eyes briefly. What was the matter with her? She’d had seven years to collect herself. How much longer did she need? And she’d always known that taking a job in his department would mean working closely with him. She’d decided that she needed that. If only to prove to herself that she was over him. She’d decided to confront her fears head-on.
And she was going to be fine, she told herself firmly.
He was just a colleague, nothing more. A colleague.
‘I’ll be very happy to look after Angela,’ she said firmly, smiling at Emma. ‘Let’s go.’
Angela was sitting on the bed in one of the rooms, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, a small suitcase at her feet. Her husband sat next to her, visibly tense as he held his wife’s hand and tried to calm her down.
Sally was by her side in an instant, her expression concerned as she slipped an arm around the woman, the need to comfort instinctive in her. ‘Don’t be upset,’ she urged softly, as she quickly introduced herself to the couple. ‘Whatever the problem is, we’ll sort it out together, I promise. This is supposed to be a happy, exciting time.’
Angela took a shuddering breath but her shoulders remained stiff under Sally’s gentle touch. ‘I really want a Caesarean section. It’s what I had last time. It’s what I was expecting. How can doctors say one thing in one place and something completely different in another? I just don’t understand it.’
Her eyes filled again and Sally frowned slightly. ‘I can see why that must be confusing, but the most important thing is to help you relax. Then we can talk about it.’
Angela fumbled for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I want a Caesarean,’ she said emphatically, and Sally nodded.
‘Can you tell me why?’
Angela closed her eyes and put a hand on her bump. ‘Because it’s safer. Oh, help, I’ve got another contraction coming.’
She screwed up her face and concentrated on her breathing while Sally encouraged her gently, smoothing her hand over the top of Angela’s bump so that she could feel the strength of the contraction.
‘That feels like a very strong contraction. Is it going off?’ She felt the tightness ease under her hand and Angela nodded.
‘Thankfully.’ She drew in a deep breath and sighed. ‘I didn’t have any of this with my first one.’
Sally reached for the notes and skimmed them quickly. ‘The baby was breech last time.’
‘That’s right. They told me I’d have to have a section right from the moment they found out, and the doctor told me at the time that if I had another baby that would be a section, too.’
‘Having a section last time doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal delivery this time,’ Sally said carefully, settling herself on the bed next to Angela. ‘And it isn’t necessarily safer, Angela. It depends on the circumstances. A Caesarean section is major abdominal surgery. Sometimes it’s safer for you and the baby, but generally if you can give birth the normal way then that’s preferable. Why don’t we get you settled and then we can have a proper chat?’
Angela took several breaths. ‘The doctor in my last hospital thought a section was the right thing for me. He said it was best.’
Sally took a deep breath. Best for whom? she wondered.
It was certainly true that some obstetricians were quicker to perform Caesareans than others, but the reasons for that weren’t always as clear cut as they might be.
‘All right,’ she said firmly, ‘this is what we’re going to do. I can completely understand that it must be very confusing for you having come from a hospital saying one thing to a hospital saying another …’
Angela looked at her. ‘And I don’t know anyone here,’ she muttered. ‘We had to move here because of Peter’s job. I knew all the midwives at the hospital in London. Here I don’t know anyone.’
Her husband looked racked with guilt. ‘I should never have taken the job.’
Angela sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s a good job, and you’ve always wanted to live here.’
‘A sensible man. This is a great place to live,’ Sally said lightly, taking Angela’s hand in hers and squeezing it firmly. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. I don’t know anyone either. I’m a very experienced midwife but this is my first day on this particular unit so we can bond together and keep each other company.’
Angela gave a wobbly smile. ‘But you’ll go off duty before the baby is born.’
Sally shook her head. ‘Not me. All that’s waiting for me at home is lots of unpacking and even more washing so, trust me on this, I’m looking for an excuse to stay at the hospital.’
‘Unpacking?’
‘I’ve been away for a while,’ Sally said with a smile. ‘I haven’t had a chance to settle back in yet.’
Emma cleared her throat. ‘I’ll leave the two of you together.’ She looked at Sally. ‘I’ll let Mr Hunter know that Angela is here.’
Angela sighed. ‘He’s the one who wants me to have it the normal way.’
Her husband took a deep breath. ‘The guy has a brilliant reputation, Angela. I’ve talked to a few people about him. I think you should listen to what he has to say.’
Sally was reading the notes again. ‘I agree with your husband. You need to have a proper talk with him, tell him how you feel.’
‘I’m useless with doctors,’ Angela mumbled. ‘They always intimidate me. Before they arrive in my room I have all these questions, and then once they’re standing there I can’t bring myself to ask any of them.’
‘Well I’ll be with you,’ Sally assured her, ‘and I’ll make sure that he answers all your questions and that you don’t feel intimidated. Let me know when you have another contraction because I want to listen to the baby’s heart.’
Angela screwed up her face and sucked in a breath. ‘I’ve got another pain coming now.’
Sally reached for the Sonicaid and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat echoed around the room.
‘That’s sounding good. Remember your breathing. That’s it. Great …’ Sally coached her gently, timing the contraction, and when Angela finally relaxed again she stood up. ‘Right. I’d like to examine you and see how your labour is progressing, and then I’m going to hook you up to one of our machines just for a short while. Then we’ll find Mr Hunter.’
And that was the bit that she wasn’t looking forward to.
Tom finished writing up a set of notes and glanced up to find Sally standing there.
His whole body tightened and he rose to his feet, his eyes fixed to hers.
For a moment they stared at each other, the clinical nature of their surroundings forgotten, tension pulsing between them like a living force.
Then she dragged her eyes away from his and took a deep breath.
‘I need to talk to you about Angela.’ Her tone was cool and professional, not a hint of the personal in her manner. ‘I’ve examined her and she’s four centimetres dilated, but it sounds as though she’s been in labour for a while. She’s very anxious. Her last obstetrician said that he was going to section her.’
His brain registered the fact that she was talking about work but the rest of his body was concentrating on something entirely different. His attention was caught by her seductively long lashes and by the fullness of her perfect mouth.
He’d been the first man to kiss that mouth.
The first man to—
With a determined effort he pulled himself together. ‘I’m not planning to section her. I scanned her two weeks ago to measure the thickness of the lower uterine segment and I was perfectly satisfied that she’s a good candidate for vaginal delivery this time round.’
‘Then you need to talk to her,’ Sally said calmly. ‘Because at the moment all she’s hearing is contradiction, and she has no reason to believe you are any more skilled than the last man she spoke to.’
Tom frowned slightly. ‘I talked to her when I scanned her. She was fine.’
‘She was confused and worried.’
‘She didn’t say anything.’
‘Verbally, perhaps not. But did you read her body language?’ Her eyes held his. ‘She finds doctors intimidating. She was afraid to question you.’
Tom tensed, significantly discomfited by her implication that he’d been insensitive to the needs of a patient.
But, then, why would Sally believe that he was capable of sensitivity?
He gritted his teeth and took the criticism on the chin. ‘Believe it or not, I do try to interpret what women are feeling. I certainly don’t want them worried by anything I’ve said.’
‘Well, she’s worried,’ Sally said flatly, ‘and at the moment she is totally convinced that what she needs is another C-section.’
Tom inhaled sharply. ‘Caesarean rates have been steadily increasing over the last two decades,’ he said harshly. ‘Eighty per cent of women can safely deliver vaginally after a previous section, providing they meet certain criteria.’
Her gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ Her voice was smoky and soft and curled around his raw emotions like the smoothest silk. ‘All I’m saying is that she’d been told she was having another Caesarean and then you told her she wasn’t, and she didn’t understand how two doctors could say such different things. She deserves an explanation. In fact, I’d go as far as to say she needs an explanation, otherwise she will be far too anxious to concentrate on her labour. She’s stressed and I’m sure you’re aware of the evidence that suggests that stress can reduce uterine activity.’
He listened, intrigued by the change he saw in her.
This wasn’t the Sally he’d known.
When had she developed such poise and confidence? he wondered, his eyes sliding over the determined jut of her chin and the set of her narrow shoulders. He could remember clearly a time when she’d hung on to his every word as if he were some sort of god. When she’d been so lacking in self-confidence that she’d barely been able to make a decision without help.
Now she stood her ground, challenging him to defend his decision without displaying a flicker of discomfort, every bit his equal.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said finally, slipping his pen into his pocket and closing the notes in which he’d been writing. ‘We’ll do it together. Then you can tell me if I’m insensitive.’
He strolled round the desk and saw her back away hastily, as if she was afraid that he might touch her.
The realization that he wanted to do just that came as a shock.
For a moment their eyes held, and if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of the labour ward, in full view of anyone who happened to pass, Tom would have kissed that soft mouth that he remembered so well.
He’d been addicted to her mouth. The look of it, the feel of it under his, the taste of it …
‘We need to talk, Sally,’ he said roughly. ‘In private.’
In fact, he realized with a sudden stab of shock that he wanted to do a great deal more than talk.
Something flickered in those green depths. ‘No.’ Her voice was low but firm and she glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if she was afraid someone might have overheard his comment. ‘We don’t need to talk.’
Tom drew in a long breath, finding it difficult to know how to respond to this new, confident Sally.
In the old days she would have talked.
In the old days she couldn’t get enough of him.
They’d talked for hours about everything and anything.
‘All right, then, I’ll talk and you can just listen. There are things I need to say to you.’
They couldn’t pretend that the past hadn’t happened.
If they were going to be able to work together effectively, then at the very least they needed to clear the air.
She looked at him. ‘You said everything that needed to be said on the last occasion we met.’ Her gaze was clear and direct and her voice was remarkably steady. ‘And I got your message, Tom. Loud and clear.’



CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_13d74cd5-32db-5811-9e3e-859b124ef9b3)
SALLY turned and walked back along the corridor, her legs shaking and her heart thumping.
When she’d imagined meeting him again, part of her had wondered whether she would feel differently about Tom. Didn’t people often look back and wonder what they’d seen in their first love? She’d often wondered if that would be true of her. Would she look at Tom and wonder what all the fuss had been about?
But now she knew that the answer to that was no.
She could see exactly why she’d fallen for Tom and she knew that if she wasn’t careful, she could fall for him again.
He was the sexiest man alive, with those sharp blue eyes, that brilliant brain and that unshakable self-confidence that had been such a draw when she’d been an insecure teenager.
He’d always been strong in every sense of the word and he was still strong.
Reminding herself that she wasn’t insecure any more and that she didn’t need his strength, she lifted a hand to push open the door to Angela’s room, but a powerful arm slid in front of her and turned her round, backing her against the wall.
‘Don’t think you can avoid me for ever,’ Tom warned softly, his blue eyes burning into hers as he planted an arm to one side of her, reducing her opportunities for escape. ‘You chose to come back.’
He was too close.
She couldn’t cope when he was this close.
Her nose picked up the tantalizing male smell that was Tom, and desire, long dormant, uncoiled low in her pelvis.
She flattened herself against the wall, impossibly aware of the strength in his shoulders and the hardness of his eyes.
‘What are you implying?’ Her eyes sparked into his and she pushed the past to the front of her brain. She wasn’t doing this again. ‘That I came back to you? Don’t flatter yourself, Tom. I came back home. My friends are here. Friends I’ve missed. I have as much right to live here as you.’
The fact that her friends were also his friends and family was something that she didn’t want to think about right now.
In fact, she couldn’t think about anything much with him standing so close to her.
She wanted to move but she couldn’t.
Her body was pinned against the wall, trapped by the heat of his gaze and by her own weakness.
‘Which is why we need to talk. This is a small community, Sally. Everyone knows about our past relationship. Do you really think it’s something that we can ignore? We need to deal with it.’
She was painfully aware of the warmth and power of his body so close to hers, of the fact that if she moved even a fraction she would be in his arms.
And that was the last place in the world she wanted to be.
Suddenly she found the strength she needed.
‘We both dealt with it seven years ago, Tom,’ she said calmly, her steady voice totally at odds with the rapid beating of her heart, ‘and people will soon get used to the idea that our relationship is purely professional now. Excuse me. I need to get back to Angela.’
His eyes narrowed slightly but his arm dropped and he stood to one side.
Feeling totally shaken but determined not to show it, Sally walked into the room and smiled at the woman now comfortably settled on the bed.
‘How are you doing, Angela? I’ve brought Mr Hunter to have a word with you.’ Desperate for a few moments to collect her thoughts and calm her frantic pulse rate, she checked the CTG trace carefully. Then she glanced at Tom, her expression neutral, as if he were a consultant she’d only just met and not a man who had been the love of her life. ‘Do you want her to be continuously monitored?’
Tom shook his head. ‘Not for the time being. There’s no reason for it, providing we keep a close eye on everything.’ He smiled at Angela and settled himself on the edge of the bed. ‘It seems as though I owe you an apology.’ His voice was soft and his eyes shone with warmth as he looked at the anxious woman. ‘When I saw you a few weeks ago I told you that I wanted you to try and deliver this baby yourself. I obviously didn’t notice how worried you were.’
Angela shifted awkwardly. ‘It doesn’t matter …’
‘It matters,’ Tom said firmly, ‘and from now on I need you to promise that you’ll ask me about anything that worries you and we’ll talk about it together. Do you promise?’
Angela looked at him and a smile wobbled on her face. ‘All right.’
‘Good.’ Tom nodded and took the CTG trace that Sally handed him, his gaze flickering over the paper, interpreting the results. Then he handed the paper back to her and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s talk about Caesarean sections,’ he said quietly. ‘There are a few things that I should explain. It’s a major operation, Angela, and it is not the ideal way to have a baby if there are alternatives. When you had your first child, clearly the doctors thought that a section was the safest mode of delivery, but this time I think you should deliver vaginally.’
Angela licked dry lips. ‘And what if I can’t?’
‘I’m very confident that you can or I wouldn’t be suggesting it,’ Tom said calmly, ‘but Sally and I will be with you every step of the way, and if anything about your labour suggests that a Caesarean would be safer then I’ll section you.’
Angela glanced nervously at her husband. ‘We’ve read about uterine rupture …’
Tom nodded. ‘All right, let’s talk about that.’ His voice was deep and confident. ‘Firstly you should know that it is a very rare occurrence.’
‘But it does happen.’
‘It can do,’ Tom admitted, ‘which is why we very carefully select the women who we think can deliver vaginally after a section. The chance of a successful delivery is lowered if labour is induced, but you’ve gone into spontaneous labour so that’s good. I’ve also taken into account the type of incision that your obstetrician used last time and the way that the uterus was repaired. All of that makes me confident that you can deliver vaginally.’
Angela shifted slightly on the bed. ‘So why did my last consultant want me to have another section?’
Tom hesitated and it was Angela’s husband who answered.
‘I suppose doctors have different opinions about what’s best,’ he said gruffly, ‘but it seems to me that Mr Hunter is talking sense. And you know how sad you were not to have the baby naturally last time. You said as much at the time.’
Angela nodded. ‘I know.’ She put her hand on her scar protectively. ‘But I don’t want anything to go wrong.’
Tom took her hand. ‘I know you’re anxious, Angela,’ he said softly, ‘but I’m asking you to trust me. And to trust Sally.’ He glanced at her with a warm smile, nothing in his gaze suggesting that they were anything other than the closest of colleagues. ‘Sally will be with you the whole time and I will be popping in and out during the day. If we’re remotely concerned, we’ll think again, but I want us to aim for a vaginal delivery.’
He was confident and totally in control and Sally saw Angela relax.
It was a shame he didn’t have the same effect on her, she reflected helplessly. The closer Tom was, the tenser she became.
Angela gave a gasp as another contraction tore through her body and Sally waited for Tom to move so that she could sit with the mother and help her through it.
But he didn’t move. Instead, he placed a hand on the top of the mother’s uterus and felt the contraction, talking to Angela softly as he did so, encouraging her to breathe properly, reminding her what her body was doing.
Angela screwed up her face and grabbed Tom’s arm, her fingers digging hard into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch.
Sally watched him helplessly, part of her wanting him to do something wrong just so that it would be easier to hate him. She knew he could be hard and insensitive. She’d been on the receiving end of his ruthless streak. She didn’t want to see his soft side. Didn’t want to see any single part of him that made him attractive.
‘Good girl.’ His voice was warm with approval as he spoke quietly to Angela. ‘That was a strong contraction. You’re coping very well.’
Flushed from his praise and encouragement, Angela let out a long breath. ‘But I haven’t dilated much. If I don’t hurry up, are you going to induce me?’
Tom shook his head and stood up. ‘In this hospital, Angela, we meddle with nature as little as possible and with as much subtlety as possible. If I induce you, your contractions will be even stronger and that will put more strain on the uterus. For the time being we’re leaving it all to nature, but obviously we’ll be watching closely to make sure she doesn’t have any surprises in mind. Have you considered pain relief?’
‘No.’ Angela shook her head and glanced anxiously at her husband. ‘Because I thought I was having a section. I suppose I should just have an epidural.’
‘You could do that,’ Tom agreed, ‘but epidurals are not without their drawbacks. Why don’t you start off by trying our pool?’
Angela looked at him. ‘You mean a water birth?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t actually deliver in the water,’ Tom said, ‘but it’s certainly an excellent way of relaxing. Would you like to give it a try? Many women find that being in the water really helps them cope with the pain.’
Angela glanced at her husband and then nodded. ‘All right. Yes, I think I’d like that. I always fancied the idea but with the first one I always knew I was having a section from the start and so I didn’t think it would ever be an option for me.’
Tom smiled. ‘Well, it’s an option now. I’ll get someone to get one of our pools ready.’ He turned to Sally. ‘Any problems, call me. I’ll have a word with Emma.’
With that he strode out of the room, leaving them all staring after him.
‘He’s nice,’ Angela said immediately, shifting on the bed to try and find a more comfortable position. ‘Very confident. The sort of person you feel you can depend on.’
Sally moved the CTG machine out of the way, careful to mask her own feelings. She’d certainly depended on Tom a great deal. In fact, he’d been her whole life, and when he’d ended their relationship …
She pushed the memories aside and settled herself next to Angela. She wasn’t going to think about Tom. She was going to do her job and settle back down at home.
‘Do you have any children?’ Angela looked at her and Sally shook her head.
‘No. I’m not married.’
Angela laughed and rubbed her swollen stomach. ‘As if that makes a difference these days. Do you want children of your own?’
Once she’d wanted that more than anything else in the world.
Sally smiled. ‘One day, maybe,’ she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder with relief as Emma stuck her head round the door.
‘The pool’s ready for you. I’ve brought you a wheelchair.’
‘Thanks, Emma.’ Sally slid a hand over Angela’s uterus. ‘We’ll wait until after the next contraction and then we’ll make a move.’
Four hours later Angela was progressing well.
‘I love the water,’ she moaned softly, closing her eyes and breathing carefully as another contraction hit her. ‘It feels so soothing. And I love being able to move around.’
Sally checked the baby’s heart with the underwater Doppler, satisfied that everything seemed to be going well.
‘Why do you keep listening after the contraction ends?’ Angela’s husband had been by her side the whole way through, asking questions constantly.
Respecting his concern, given their previous experience, Sally had been careful to give him detailed answers to everything.
‘During a contraction blood can’t flow through the placenta so easily. Some babies are fine with that, but others may not be and their heart rate may be affected. It’s a sign that the baby is stressed. If it happens in the middle of the contraction and the baby’s heart recovers quickly, we don’t worry too much, but if a baby’s heart rate is affected after the contraction is finished then we need to keep an eye on it.’
He stroked a hand over his wife’s head and offered her a glass of water. ‘But in our case everything is fine?’
‘Absolutely.’ Sally removed the Doppler from the water and dried her hands. She had been monitoring Angela like a hawk, constantly alert to any signs that her scar might be threatening to rupture. ‘How are you doing, Angela?’
‘Fine. I love the water. I’m just anxious about what’s to come.’
There was a tap on the door and Tom strolled into the room dressed in theatre scrubs.
The loose cotton fabric emphasized the width and strength of his shoulders and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of dark chest hair.
Sally swallowed and concentrated her attention on Angela. She’d always adored his body. He was the most masculine man she’d ever met and she’d never been able to look at him without feeling her stomach lurch.
It seemed that nothing had changed.
She didn’t want to feel like this.
Hadn’t expected to feel like this.
Seven years of absence was supposed to have cured her of Tom Hunter.
She closed her eyes for a second, trying to blot out the vision of those strong arms and that firm mouth, resenting the pull of attraction that tugged at her body.
She breathed in deeply and tried to focus her mind.
Better to acknowledge the attraction and control it than deny it and allow it free rein to consume her.
All right, so she was still physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?
It didn’t mean that she was going to be stupid enough to fall for him again.
There was no way she’d risk exposing herself to that degree of pain a second time.
Clearly oblivious to her internal battle, Tom walked across the room, his eyes on Angela.
‘How’s it going?’ His voice was velvety smooth and he crouched down by the pool, his eyes warm as they rested on the labouring mother. Despite having a punishing workload, he’d been in and out of the room all afternoon, checking on Angela and getting updates from Sally.
And Sally had to admit that he was good. Because he’d bothered to spend the time, Angela was now totally relaxed with him, and it was obvious that she trusted Tom implicitly.
‘All right, I think—’ Angela sucked in a breath and gave him a weak smile. ‘Not looking forward to the end bit, to be honest. I’m just worried that Sally will leave me and go home if I take too long.’
Sally smiled. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Home was Bryony’s cottage. A lonely reminder that she didn’t actually have anywhere that was hers.
But she’d sort that out, given the first opportunity.
She was off at the weekend and she’d already made arrangements to view a couple of places.
Angela looked at Tom. ‘She’s brilliant. So calm. Better than pain relief. Everyone in labour should have Sally.’
Tom looked at Sally and she saw something flicker in his blue gaze. ‘I agree,’ he said softly, ‘Sally is very special.’
But not special enough to prevent him from ending their relationship.
Flattened by painful memories, Sally straightened and walked over to the flickering candles that she’d lit earlier in an attempt to help Angela relax.
Tom followed her. ‘You’re happy with her?’ His eyes were searching and she nodded, looking away quickly from that disturbing blue gaze.
When he’d made love to her she’d always stared into his eyes. Had been unable to take her eyes off him, hypnotized by the wonder of being with Tom. Looking into his eyes had been the only way she’d been able to believe that she’d actually been living the fantasy. That this amazing man had wanted her.
And when he hadn’t wanted her any more she’d almost died.
The reduced lighting and his low voice created an atmosphere of such intimacy that she felt the breath lodge in her throat. It was the cruellest reminder of what they’d once shared.
She had to remind herself that they were standing in a delivery room with a labouring woman and she was suddenly tempted to blow out the candles and turn on every fluorescent light in the room.
‘The foetal heart rate is good and she’s contracting regularly. No tachycardia or any other signs that her uterus is in any way compromised.’
Tom nodded. ‘Good.’
‘Sally!’ Angela’s tone was suddenly sharp and panicky. ‘I want to push. All of a sudden …’
Sally was by her side in an instant, Tom forgotten. ‘Don’t panic,’ she said quietly, reaching for some towels that were warming. ‘I’m going to get you out of the water and examine you again. You weren’t even eight centimetres last time we checked so I doubt you’ve dilated that quickly.’
Angela groaned and clutched the side of the pool, her eyes tightly closed. ‘Can’t I stay in?’
Sally glanced at Tom but he gave a slight shake of his head. ‘I’d rather you had this particular baby on dry land.’
Angela gasped. ‘I don’t think I can move.’
‘Wait until this contraction has passed and then we’ll help you out.’
A few minutes later Angela was lying on the bed, wrapped in a warm dressing-gown.
Sally snapped on a pair of gloves. ‘Don’t push, Angela. I’m just going to see what’s happening. I don’t want you pushing until your cervix is fully dilated.’
‘I definitely want to push.’ Angela gave a gasp and stopped dead, her fingers biting into Sally’s arm. Oh …’
Tom frowned. ‘How dilated was she when she went into the pool?’
‘Four centimetres.’ Sally examined her carefully and then straightened up. ‘Obviously all that warm water and relaxation did the trick. You’re fully dilated, Angela, and the baby is nicely positioned. You can push whenever you like.’
She looked at Tom expectantly, wondering whether he intended to deliver the baby himself, but he gave a shake of his head.
‘Your delivery,’ he said softly, a faint smile on his hard mouth. ‘Obstetricians only get involved if they have to, and everything is looking fine from my point of view. But I intend to hang around and watch.’
Just in case something went wrong.
Ignoring that smile, Sally turned her attention back to Angela just as Emma popped her head round the door.
‘Do we have action?’
Angela gave a gasp and her husband stepped forward and took her hand.
‘Go on, abuse me,’ he groaned. ‘This is all my fault.’
Angela gave a tired laugh. ‘You can say that again. You and your stupid ideas. “Wouldn’t it be great to have another child?” were your exact words.’
‘Next time I say that you have full permission to hit me,’ her husband said, his tone full of remorse as he stroked Angela’s hair away from her damp forehead. ‘What can I do?’
‘Just be there.’ Angela closed her eyes and screwed up her face as another contraction hit and she pushed. ‘Oh—I never thought it would hurt this much!’
Sally showed her how to use the gas and air properly and Angela breathed in steadily.
Emma was by her side. ‘Do you need me, or are you staying, Mr Hunter?’
‘I want him to stay,’ Angela said quickly, her breath coming in pants. ‘Please, Mr Hunter. If something goes wrong, I want you to be there.’
‘Nothing is going to go wrong,’ Tom said, his voice deep and reassuring. But he didn’t leave the room. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow at Sally and Emma. ‘Well, if I’m becoming a midwife, you’d better give me some instructions.’
‘You can take the baby,’ Sally said stiffly, looking away from his disturbingly intense blue gaze and turning her attention back to the mother. ‘Well done, Angela. Won’t be long now.’
Angela gave a gasp. ‘Do I need to lie down? I don’t want to make it awkward for you.’
‘You can deliver in any position that feels comfortable to you,’ Sally assured her, adjusting her own position so that she could see what was happening more clearly.
‘I’ve got another contraction coming …’
‘It’s crowning,’ Sally said softly. ‘You’re doing so well, Angela. Try not to push now. I just want you to pant. Pretend you’re blowing out a candle, that’s it—great.’
Moments later Sally had safely delivered the head. She checked that the cord wasn’t around the baby’s neck and shifted her position slightly. ‘We’ll wait for the next contraction, Angela,’ she said, ‘and then this baby will be born.’
But it wasn’t.
The contraction came and Angela pushed again, but nothing happened.
With a feeling of unease, Sally encouraged Angela to change position but still nothing happened and she was aware that Tom had pulled on a pair of sterile gloves.
He nudged her to one side.
‘I want you to change position one more time for me, Angela.’ His voice was confident and reassuring as he explained what he wanted her to do. ‘I need you more upright—that’s it. It widens your pelvic outlet. And now I’m going to see if I can give this baby a hand.’
He worked his fingers carefully inside, did something that Sally couldn’t quite see and the baby came slithering out into his hands with an outraged yell.
‘You have a son, Angela.’ His voice was calm and relaxed. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Oh.’ Angela plopped down onto the bed, her expression dazed and delighted. ‘What happened then? What did you do?’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ Tom said easily, handing her the baby carefully. ‘You did it all yourself. You were brilliant. Does it feel good?’
Angela stared down at the tiny baby in her arms and her eyes filled. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘It feels great.’
Sally blinked back tears and then cursed to herself as Tom gave her a searching look.
Bother. She always found childbirth emotional but the last thing she wanted to do was show that emotion in front of Tom.
An hour later, having handed Angela and her baby son over to the nurse from the ward, Sally went and picked up her bag and coat from the staffroom.
She felt totally exhausted.
It had been a long day, but she knew that it wasn’t the work that had left her feeling drained.
It was seeing Tom again.
She found deliveries emotional at the best of times, and having Tom working shoulder to shoulder with her on her very first day had left her shaken and tense. What she really needed was to climb. Climbing always relaxed her. It was the degree of concentration required, the knowledge that to allow the mind to wander for one second might result in a fall.
She stared out of the window, acknowledging the dark. It was too late to climb.
So she would need to find another way to escape. She needed to look elsewhere for relaxation and distraction from Tom.
She slid her arms into her coat and made for the door, her whole body tensing when she saw him standing there.
Her defences rose and her chin lifted. ‘Excuse me.’
‘No.’ He walked in and closed the door behind him, standing with his back to her only escape route. ‘I won’t let you avoid me, Sally.’
‘I can hardly be accused of avoiding you,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ve been working side by side with you for most of the day.’
‘And it’s been torture, hasn’t it?’ His voice was harsh and he breathed in deeply. ‘We need to talk about the past. About what happened between us. And we need to move on.’
‘It was seven years ago. And I’ve already moved on.’ She clutched her bag in front of her like a shield. ‘There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I can barely remember it.’
She shot him a look of pure indifference, one of the many looks that she’d been practising.
‘Is that so?’ His voice was soft and his blue eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. He was trying to penetrate that shield but her armour was strong, forged from the burning fires of pain and betrayal.
‘The past is just a memory,’ she lied smoothly, ‘and memories are easily forgotten over time.’
‘Well, you may have nothing to say on the subject, but I have plenty.’
‘Then that’s your problem, not mine. And now I’m going home. It’s been a long day.’ She walked up to him and lifted her chin, her eyes flashing into his. ‘Excuse me.’
There was a tense moment when she thought he was going to reach for her, but then the door behind him opened and he was forced to step aside.
Emma stuck her head round. ‘Oh, great, you’re still here.’ She smiled at Sally. ‘Bryony is on the phone. She said to tell you that she’s in the car park if you want a lift home.’
‘Thanks.’ Without glancing in Tom’s direction, Sally walked confidently out of the room, casting a smile at Emma. ‘See you tomorrow.’
She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want an intimate conversation. She just wanted him to treat her as a colleague, nothing more.
That was all she could cope with.



CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_adab4757-af1f-5bc7-992d-7394df5046f9)
TOM watched the staffroom door close behind the two women and fought the temptation to put his fist through the window.
He was boiling with frustration, aggravated to the point of explosion by the less than satisfactory exchange with Sally. There were things he needed to say and she wasn’t allowing him to say them.
But could he really blame her for that?
He ran a hand over his face and cursed softly. All day he’d been aware of her and it had disturbed his concentration more than he cared to admit.
She’d always played havoc with his emotions.
He prowled over to the window and stared moodily down into the car park, his jaw tightening as he saw Sally opening the door of his sister’s car and sliding inside.
He saw a flash of long leg, a glimmer of blonde hair and then she vanished from sight.
For now.
He comforted himself with the fact that Sally Jenner wasn’t going anywhere. She’d made the decision to come home so she was obviously planning on staying around. Which meant that he had plenty of time to engineer the conversation he was determined to have.
His mouth tightened as he watched Bryony drive off.
And the first thing he was going to do was talk to his sister.
Sally settled into her seat and gave a self-satisfied smile. ‘Thanks for the lift. Excellent timing. It’s hard to make a dramatic exit on a mountain bike.’
Bryony caught the smile and laughed. ‘From the look on your face, I gather you won that round.’
Sally took a steady breath. ‘Well, I didn’t make a fool of myself. You would have been proud of me. I was Miss Cool.’
And somehow she’d managed to pretend an indifference that she hadn’t felt.
Seeing Tom had affected her even more than she’d imagined it would.
Bryony waited for her to fasten her seat belt and then drove off. ‘I would have liked to have seen his face when he saw you.’
‘He was shocked,’ Sally said softly, recalling the look in his eyes with a slight shiver. ‘And disconcerted, I think.’
‘Never seen my big brother disconcerted about anything before,’ Bryony said dryly, shifting gears and slowing down as she approached the exit of the hospital. ‘I wish I could have been there.’
‘Well, fortunately Emma was,’ Sally told her. ‘That wasn’t a meeting I would have wanted to have in private.’
‘So what did he say?’
Sally moistened dry lips. ‘He wants to talk.’
Bryony paused at the junction, her expression serious. ‘About what?’
‘The past, I suppose.’ Her eyes met her friend’s and Bryony pulled a face.
‘Well, that was to be expected.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, Bry. It was bad enough when it happened, without reliving it. What can we possibly achieve by talking about it?’ Sally asked hoarsely, pulling her coat around herself with a slight shiver. ‘Can you turn the heating up in this car? It’s freezing.’
‘The engine will warm up in a minute,’ Bryony said absently, checking the traffic and pulling onto the main road. ‘And you know as well as I do that if my big brother sets his mind on something, he gets it.’
Sally lifted her chin and stared into the frosty darkness. ‘I can be as determined as him.’
In the past seven years she’d discovered reservoirs of strength in herself that she hadn’t known existed.
She wasn’t the same person who had run for cover when he’d rejected her.
Bryony sighed. ‘I know. Which means we’re in for fireworks.’ She gave her a sympathetic glance. ‘You may not want to talk, but if it’s what Tom wants then, trust me, you’ll be talking. He isn’t easily distracted when he wants something. You know that as well as I do.’
Of course she did.
It was that same single-minded approach that had made him such a respected obstetrician at such a young age.
Bryony sighed. ‘You’ll be fine, Sally. You’ve put him behind you.’
A long silence greeted her words and Bryony glanced at her friend in consternation. ‘Oh, no, tell me you’re not …’
‘No.’ Sally’s voice sounded croaky and she cleared her throat. ‘No, I’m not. But it was hard, Bry. Really hard. Even harder than I thought it would be.’
And she’d always known that seeing Tom again would be difficult.
Bryony reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Just take it a day at a time. What you need is a new love interest. I’m going to find you someone gorgeous to help take your mind off my brother.’
Sally shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’m better off on my own.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ Bryony pulled up outside her old cottage and switched off the engine. ‘Has there been anyone since Tom?’
Sally turned away, her eyes fixed out of the window. ‘Let’s just say he was a hard act to follow.’ She gave a sigh and then turned to Bryony with a bright smile. ‘But I’m working on it. Truly.’
Somewhere out there was a man who wouldn’t seem like second best.
She sat, lost in thought, and the silence stretched into infinity.
Finally Bryony spoke. ‘Are you truly going to be able to move on?’ Her tone was doubtful and Sally stirred.
‘I’ve moved on. I’m home,’ she said simply, undoing her seat belt and reaching for her bag. Suddenly she needed to be on her own. ‘Thanks for lending me the cottage. I’ll find somewhere of my own soon.’
‘No need,’ Bryony said with a frown. ‘Jack and I don’t use it any more. We were going to rent it out anyway. Does Tom know you’re staying here?’
Sally paused with her hand on the doorhandle. ‘No. He asked where I was living but I dodged the question.’
‘But it isn’t going to take him long to figure it out. What if he comes here?’
‘I hardly think he’s going to go to those lengths to have a conversation,’ Sally said with a faint smile. ‘Goodnight, Bry. Thanks for the lift.’
‘You left your bike at the hospital,’ Bryony reminded her. ‘I’ll pick you up in the morning.’
Smiling her thanks. Sally let herself into the cottage, flicked on the lights and walked through to the cosy kitchen, feeling the tension in her neck and shoulders.
It had been a hard day. Harder than she’d anticipated.
She’d known that the first meeting would be difficult, of course. Known that seeing Tom would be painful.
She’d expected to feel anger and contempt. Expected to dismiss him with a few well-rehearsed words.
What she hadn’t anticipated had been the race of her heart and the kick of her breathing.
Sally made herself a coffee and then sat down at the kitchen table, her hands coiled round the hot mug.
Tom Hunter was still a dangerously attractive man.
But he had no place in her life any more.
She wasn’t that careless with her heart.
Tom sat in his sister’s kitchen, tapping long fingers on the table.
‘She’ll be home in a minute, but I probably ought to warn you that you’re not flavour of the month,’ Jack said mildly, opening two beers and handing one to his friend.
Tom drank from the bottle and then banged it down on the table. ‘Did you know Sally was back?’
Jack settled himself opposite, his feet on the table. ‘No. If Bry wanted to keep it from you, she’s hardly going to tell me, is she?’
‘You’re her husband.’
Jack grinned. ‘And you and I have been best mates since primary school, Tom. Takes more than a woman to come between us, even if that woman is your sister.’
Tom sighed and rubbed long fingers over his aching temples. ‘I wish someone had warned me.’
‘Why?’ Jack took a slug of beer. ‘I thought you weren’t interested in her anyway.’
Tom reached for his beer. He’d thought that, too.
But seeing her again had unsettled him more than he would have thought possible.
Being on the receiving end of her cool indifference had made him feel as though he’d lost something special.
At that moment the kitchen door flew open and Bryony stalked into the room, her whole manner confrontational.
Tom rose to his feet, his own gaze equally accusing. Ordinarily they were as close as a brother and sister could be, but tonight they glared at each other like enemies.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that she was coming back?’ Tom’s voice was hard and Bryony’s gaze was equally hard as she met her brother’s eyes.
‘And good evening to you, too, Tom.’ She leaned forward and kissed Jack, her expression softening slightly. Then she straightened and shrugged out of her wool coat.
‘You should have told me she was coming back,’ Tom snarled, and Bryony lifted an eyebrow, refusing to be intimidated by the dangerous light in her brother’s eyes.
‘Why? What reason did I have to believe you even cared? You ended it, remember?’
Colour touched Tom’s cheekbones and his jaw tightened. ‘That is none of your business.’
‘It’s my business when you expect me to help you smooth the path with her.’
‘I can’t change the past.’ Tom sat back down in his chair and reached for his beer. ‘And Sally and I need to move on. We can’t do that if we don’t have a conversation. We need to clear the air.’
‘You mean you need to make yourself feel OK about what you did.’
Tom tensed, realizing with a considerable amount of discomfort that she was right. His conscience was troubling him. And he had a feeling that a conversation wasn’t going to cure his problem.
‘I did what I thought was right at the time.’
‘Right for her or right for you?’ Bryony put her hands on her hips, her expression disapproving, and Jack frowned.
‘Bry, this really isn’t our business.’
Bryony ignored him, her eyes still on her brother. ‘You drove her away and now you’re expecting her to be pleased to see you again.’
‘I’m not expecting that.’ Tom cursed softly and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘And I didn’t drive her away. She left.’
‘Because of you! Because you didn’t want her and she couldn’t live in this small community alongside a man who’d rejected her. Do you know your problem?’ Bryony glared at him. ‘You just can’t bear the fact that there’s a woman in the world who doesn’t think you’re God’s answer to romance. You broke Sally’s heart but you want her to say, “That’s fine, Tom.” Well, it isn’t fine!

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