James didn’t once take his gaze from Sarah. He was watching her closely, as though he was mesmerised, taking in the warmth of her response, the soft flush of heat that flared in her cheeks.

The breath caught in her throat, and a familiar hunger surged inside her as she returned his gaze. There was a sudden dull ache in her chest—an ache that came from knowing her unbidden yearning could never be assuaged. He still had the power to melt her bones and fill her with that humiliating need that would forever be her downfall.

She closed her eyes briefly. How on earth would she be able to work with him over the weeks, months, that lay ahead?

Sarah looked out of the window. She had to keep things between them on a professional footing. That was the only way she could survive. From now on it would become her mantra …

Dear Reader

Once bitten, twice shy … So the old saying goes. It’s one that intrigues me … How, I wondered, would a young girl respond if the man she yearned for turned her away? Wouldn’t she do her utmost to steer clear of him in the future?

That’s exactly how it was for Sarah, after James Benson rejected her as a vulnerable teenager. Meeting him again, years later, she’s alarmed to discover that she still has feelings for him—but she can’t possibly act on them.

Besides, she has way too much going on in her life, with her young half-brother and half-sister to look after, as well as the responsibility of working as a doctor in a busy emergency department.

Add to the mix the tranquil setting of a picturesque Cornish fishing village—a favourite with me—and I think you’ll agree we have the perfect prescription for romance!

Love

Joanna

About the Author

When JOANNA NEIL discovered Mills & Boon®, her lifelong addiction to reading crystallised into an exciting new career writing Mills & Boon® Medical™ Romance. Her characters are probably the outcome of her varied lifestyle, which includes working as a clerk, typist, nurse and infant teacher. She enjoys dressmaking and cooking at her Leicestershire home. Her family includes a husband, son and daughter, an exuberant yellow Labrador and two slightly crazed cockatiels. She currently works with a team of tutors at her local education centre to provide creative writing workshops for people interested in exploring their own writing ambitions.

Recent titles by Joanna Neil:

DR RIGHT ALL ALONG

DR LANGLEY: PROTECTOR OR PLAYBOY?

A COTSWOLD CHRISTMAS BRIDE

THE TAMING OF DR ALEX DRAYCOTT

BECOMING DR BELLINI’S BRIDE

PLAYBOY UNDER THE MISTLETOE

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

Tamed by her Brooding Boss

Joanna Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘SO, ARE you both okay …? Do you have everything you need?’ Sarah’s glance trailed over her young half-brother and half-sister, while she tried to work out if there was anything she had forgotten. It was a cool spring morning, with the wind blowing in off the sea, but the children were well wrapped up in warm jackets and trousers.

‘Do you still have your money for the lunch break, Sam?’ she asked, pausing to tuck a flyaway strand of chestnut-coloured hair behind her ear. He was such a whirlwind, she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he’d lost it somewhere between the front door of the house and the school gates.

Ten-year-old Sam was clearly feeling awkward in his brand-new school uniform, but he stopped wriggling long enough to dig his hand deep into his trouser pocket.

‘Yeah, it’s still there.’

‘Good. I’ll organise some sort of account for you both with the school as soon as I can, but for now make sure you get a decent meal with what you have.’ She gave Sam a wry smile. ‘I don’t want you to go spending it on crisps and junk food.’

His shoulders moved in brief acknowledgement and she turned her attention to Rosie. The little girl wasn’t saying very much—in fact, both children had been unusually quiet this morning. Perhaps she should have expected that, since it was their first day at a new school. They didn’t know this neighbourhood very well as yet, and they’d had to adjust to so many changes of late that it was understandable if they were struggling to take everything on board.

‘How about you, Rosie? Are you all right?’

Rosie nodded, her expression solemn, her grey eyes downcast. ‘I’m okay.’ She was two years younger than her brother, but in some ways she seemed a little more mature than him. It looked as though she was coping, but you could never tell.

‘I’m sure you’ll be fine, both of you.’ Sarah tried to sound encouraging. ‘I know it’s not easy, starting at a new school mid-term, but I expect your teachers will introduce you to everybody and you’ll soon make friends.’ She hesitated for a moment, but when neither child said anything in response she put an arm around each of them and started down the path towards the classrooms. ‘Let’s get you settled in—remember, if I’m still at work by the time school finishes, Murray from next door will come and pick you up.’

A few minutes later, she kissed them goodbye and left them in their cloakrooms, anxiety weighing heavily on her, but there was relief, too, when she saw that the other children were curious about the newcomers and had begun to talk to them.

Sarah pulled in a deep breath as she walked back to her car, trying to gather sustenance from an inner well of strength. It was difficult to know who felt worse, she or the children, but somehow she had to push those concerns to one side for the moment and get on with the rest of what looked to be a difficult day ahead.

It wasn’t just the children who were suffering from first-day nerves—she would be starting out on a new job, riding along in the air ambulance with the immediate care doctor for the area. That would carry with it its own difficulties … but that wasn’t what was troubling her. As a doctor herself, she hoped she was well prepared to cope with any medical emergency.

She set the car in motion, driving away from the small Cornish fishing village and heading along the coast road towards the air ambulance base where she was to meet up with James Benson.

Her hands tightened on the steering-wheel. Now, there was the crux of the problem. Even recalling his name caused a flurry of sensation to well up inside her abdomen and every now and again her stomach was doing strange, uncomfortable kinds of flip-overs.

How long had it been since she’d last seen him? A good many years, for sure … She’d been a teenager back then, naïve, innocent and desperate to have his attention. Her whole body flushed with heat at the memory, and she shook her head, as though that would push it away.

She’d do anything rather than have to meet up with him once again, but the chances of avoiding him had been scuppered from the outset. Maybe if she’d known from the start that he was a consultant in the emergency department where she’d wanted to work, she would never have applied for the post as a member of the team.

And how could she have known that he was also on call with the air ambulance? It was a job she’d trained for, coveted, and once she’d been drawn in, hook, line and sinker, there was no way she could have backed out of the deal.

She drove swiftly, carefully, barely noticing that she had left the coast behind, with its spectacular cliffs and rugged inlets, and now she was passing through deeply wooded valleys with clusters of whitewashed stone cottages clinging to the hillsides here and there. The bluebells were in flower, presenting her with occasional glimpses of a soft carpet of blue amidst the undergrowth. Small, white pockets of wood sorrel peeped out from the hedges, vying for space with yellow vetch. It was beautiful, but she couldn’t appreciate any of it while her heart ached from leaving the children behind and her nerves were stretched to breaking point from anticipating the meeting ahead.

At the base, she drove into a slot in the staff car park and then made her way into the building, to where the air ambulance personnel had their office. Bracing herself, she knocked briskly on the door and then went inside.

The room was empty and she frowned. She couldn’t have missed a callout because the helicopter was standing outside on the helipad.

She took a moment to look around. There were various types of medical equipment on charge in here, a computer monitor displaying a log of the air ambulance’s last few missions, and a red phone rested in a prominent position on the polished wooden desk. To one side of the room there was a worktop, where a kettle was making a gentle hissing sound as the water inside heated up.

‘Ah, there you are.’ She turned as James Benson’s voice alerted her to his presence. Her heart began to race, pounding as those familiar, deep tones smoothed over her like melting, dark chocolate. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you,’ he added. ‘We’ve all been changing into our flight suits and generally getting ready for the off.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak just then. He was every bit as striking as she remembered, with that compelling presence that made you feel as though he dominated the room. Or perhaps it was just that she was unusually on edge today. He was tall, with a strong, muscular build, and he still had those dark good looks which, to her everlasting shame, had been her undoing all those years ago, the chiselled, angular bone structure and jet-black hair, and those penetrating grey eyes that homed in on you and missed nothing.

He was looking at her now, his thoughtful gaze moving over her, lighting on the long, burnished chestnut of her hair and coming to rest on the pale oval of her face.

‘I wasn’t sure if it really would be you,’ he said. ‘When I saw your name on the acceptance letter I wondered for a minute or two whether it might be some other Sarah Franklyn, but the chances of there being two doctors in the neighbourhood with the same name was pretty remote. I know you went to medical school and worked in Devon.’ His glance meshed with hers, and she steeled herself not to look away. He’d obviously heard, from time to time, about what she was doing. She straightened her shoulders. She would get through this. Of course she would. How bad could it be?

‘I expect my taking up a medical career seems a strange choice to you, knowing me from back then.’ Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat and tried again, aiming to sound more confident this time. ‘You weren’t in on the interviews, so it didn’t occur to me that we would be working together.’

He inclined his head briefly. ‘I was away, attending a conference—it was important and couldn’t be avoided or delegated, so the head of Emergency made the final decision.’ His mouth twisted in a way that suggested he wasn’t too pleased about that, and Sarah felt a sudden surge of panic rise up to constrict her throat. So he didn’t want her here. That was something she hadn’t reckoned on.

His glance shifted slowly over her taut features and she lifted her chin in a brash attempt at keeping her poise.

His grey eyes darkened, but his voice remained steady and even toned. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go and change into your flight suit, and then I’ll show you around and introduce you to the rest of the crew. We’ll have coffee. The kettle should have boiled by the time you’re ready.’

‘Yes. That sounds good.’

At least he was accepting her presence here as a done thing. That was a small mercy. And it looked as though he wasn’t going to comment on what had happened all those years ago. Just the thought of him doing that was enough to twist her stomach into knots, but for now perhaps she was safe. After all, she’d been a vulnerable seventeen-year-old back then, and now, some nine years later, she was a grown woman who ought to be in full control of herself. Why, then, did she feel so ill at ease, so uncertain about everything?

But she knew the answer, didn’t she? It was because, sooner or later, the past was bound to come up and haunt her.

He showed her to a room where she could change into her high-visibility, orange flight suit, and she took those few minutes of privacy to try and get herself together. She’d keep things on a professional level between them, nothing more, no private stuff to mess things up. That way, she could keep a tight grip on her emotions and show him that she was a totally different person now, calm and up to the mark, and nothing like she’d been as a teenager.

She cringed as she thought back to some of the things she had done in her early teen years. Had she really driven Ben Huxley’s tractor around the village on that late summer evening? He’d forever regretted leaving the keys in the ignition, and his shock at discovering his beloved tractor stranded at a precarious angle in a ditch an hour later had been nothing to the concern he’d felt at finding a thirteen-year-old girl slumped over the wheel.

And what had been James’s reaction when she’d broken into the stables on his father’s estate one evening and saddled up one of the horses? It had been her fourteenth birthday and she hadn’t cared a jot about what might happen or considered that what she had been doing was wrong. She had loved the horses, had been used to being around them, and on that day she’d felt an overwhelming need to ride through the meadows and somehow leave her troubles behind. She had been wild, reckless, completely out of control, and James had recognised that.

‘None of this will bring your mother back,’ he’d said to her, and she’d stared at him, her green eyes wide with defiance, her jaw lifted in challenge.

‘What would you know about it?’ she’d responded in a dismissive, careless tone.

She’d been extremely lucky. No one had reported her to the police. She’d got away with things, and yet the more she’d avoided paying for her misdemeanours, the more she’d played up. ‘Mayhem in such a small package,’ was the way James had put it. No wonder he didn’t want her around now.

He made coffee for her when she went back into the main room a short time later. ‘Is it still cream with one sugar?’ he asked, and she gave him a bemused look, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. He remembered that?

‘Yes … please,’ she said, and he waved her to a seat by the table.

‘Tom is our pilot,’ he said, nodding towards the man who sat beside her. Tom was in his forties, she guessed, black haired, with a smattering of grey streaks starting at his temples.

‘Pleased to meet you, Sarah,’ Tom said, smiling and pushing forward a platter filled with a selection of toasted sandwiches, which she guessed had been heated up in the mini-grill that stood on the worktop next to the coffee-maker. ‘Help yourself. You never know if you’re going to get a lunch break in this line of work, so you may as well eat while you get the chance.’

‘Thanks.’ She chose a bacon and cheese baguette and thought back to breakfast-time when she’d grabbed a slice of toast for herself while the children had tucked into their morning cereal. It seemed a long while ago now.

‘And this is Alex, the co-pilot,’ James said, turning to introduce the man opposite. He was somewhere in his mid-thirties, with wavy brown hair and friendly hazel eyes.

‘Have you been up in a helicopter before?’ Alex asked, and Sarah nodded.

‘I worked with the air ambulance in Devon for a short time,’ she answered. ‘This is something I’ve wanted to do for quite a while, so when this job came up it looked like the ideal thing for me.’

He nodded. ‘James told us you’ll be working part time—is that by choice? It suits us, because our paramedic is employed on a part-time basis, too.’

‘Yes. I’ll just be doing one day a week here, and the rest of the time I’ll be working at the hospital in the A and E department.’

‘Sounds good. You’ll get the best of both worlds, so to speak. It’s unusual to do that, though, in A and E, I imagine?’

‘Not so much these days,’ Sarah murmured. ‘And it suits me to do things this way.’ She bit into her baguette and savoured the taste of melted cheese.

‘Sarah supplements her income by doing internet work,’ James put in. ‘She writes a medical advice column for a website, and one for a newspaper, too.’

How had he known that? She looked up at him in surprise, and his mouth made a wry shape. ‘I came across your advice column when I was browsing one day, and there was mention there of your work for the newspaper.’ He frowned. ‘I’m not sure it’s wise to make diagnoses without seeing the patient.’

‘That isn’t what I do, as I’m sure you’re aware if you’ve read my columns.’ Perhaps he was testing her, playing devil’s advocate, to see what kind of a doctor she really was, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with implying she might not be up to the job. Neither was she going to tell him about her personal circumstances and give him further reason for doubting her suitability for the post. She needed to work part time so that she could be there for Sam and Rosie whenever possible, and the writing had provided an excellent solution in that respect. Working from home was a good compromise.

‘I mostly work with a team of doctors,’ she said, ‘and we pick out letters from people who have conditions that would be of interest to a lot of others. We give the best advice we can in the circumstances, and point out other possible diagnoses and remedies.’

‘Hmm. You don’t think the best advice would be for your correspondents to go and see their own GP, or ask to see a specialist?’

‘I think a good many people have already done that and are still confused. Besides, patients are much better informed these days. They like to visit the doctor with some inkling of what his responses might be, or what treatment options might be available to them,’ she responded calmly.

He nodded. ‘I guess you could be right.’ He might have said more, but the red phone started to ring and he lifted the receiver without hesitation. He listened for a while and then said, ‘What’s the location? And his condition? Okay. We’re on our way.’

Food and coffee were abandoned as they hurried out to the helicopter. ‘A young man has been injured in a multiple-collision road-traffic accident,’ James told them. ‘He has a broken leg, but he’s some thirty miles away from here, and the paramedics on scene feel they need a doctor present. He needs to go to hospital as soon as possible.’

They were airborne within a minute or two, and soon Sarah was gazing down at lush green fields bordering a sparse network of ribbon-like roads. James sat next to her, commenting briefly on the landmarks they flew over.

‘There’s the hospital,’ he said, pointing out the helipad on top of the building. ‘We’ll be landing there when we have our patient secured.’

A little further on, they passed over a sprawling country estate, which had at its centre a large house built from grey, Cornish stone. It was an imposing, rectangular building, with lots of narrow, Georgian windows.

‘Your family’s place,’ Sarah mused. ‘Do you still live there?’ It was large enough for him to have the whole of the north wing to himself. That’s how things had been when she’d lived in the area, though he’d been away at medical school a good deal of the time, or working away at the hospital in Penzance. His younger brother had taken over the east wing, leaving the rest of the house to their parents.

He shook his head. ‘I have my own place now. It seemed for the best once I settled for working permanently in Truro. It’s closer to the hospital. Jonathan still lives on the estate, though he has a family of his own now. He has a boy and a girl.’

‘I wondered if he might stay on. He was always happy to live and work on the family farm, wasn’t he?’

James nodded. ‘So you decided to come back to your roots. What persuaded you to leave Devon? I have friends who worked there from time to time and, from what I heard on the grapevine, you were pretty much settled there. Rumour had it your mind was set on staying with the trauma unit.’

‘That’s pretty much the way it was to begin with … I was hoping I might get a permanent staff job but then I was passed over for promotion—a young male doctor pipped me at the post, and after that I started to look around for something else.’

He winced. ‘That must have hurt.’ He studied her briefly. ‘Knowing you, I guess his appointment must have made you restless. You wouldn’t have let the grass grow under your feet after that.’

‘No, I wouldn’t, that’s true.’ She wasn’t going to tell him about her situation—although it hadn’t been voiced at the time, she was fairly certain that she’d lost the promotion because of her family ties, and now she had to do everything she could to find secure, permanent work. This job promised all of that, but she was on three months’ probation to see how things worked out on both sides, and she didn’t need him to go looking for excuses to be rid of her before she signed a final contract.

By now they had reached their destination, and as the pilot came in to land, she could see the wreckage below. It looked as though a couple of motorcyclists had been involved in a collision with a saloon and a four-wheel-drive vehicle, and there were a number of casualties. A fire crew was in attendance, and from the blackened appearance of the saloon, it seemed that a blaze had erupted at some point. She could only hope the occupants of the car had escaped before the fire had taken hold.

‘You’ll be shadowing me,’ James said, unclipping his seat belt as the helicopter came to a standstill, ‘so don’t worry about getting involved with the other patients. We’ll take them in strict order of triage.’

Sarah bit her lip. She had no objection to following his lead and learning the ins and outs of this particular job, but surely she’d be of more use helping with the other victims of the crash?

‘Okay, whatever you say. Though I do feel I could be of help with the rest of the injured.’

He was already on his way to the door of the helicopter, his medical kit strapped to his back in readiness. ‘Let’s see how it goes, shall we? According to the paramedics, our primary patient is in a bad way. He needs to be our main concern right now.’

Sarah followed him to the side of the road where a paramedic was tending an injured youth. There were police vehicles nearby and a young officer was directing traffic while another was setting up a road block.

She knelt down beside the casualty. He couldn’t be much more than eighteen years old. He lay on the grass verge, well away from the traffic, and his face was white, blanched by shock and loss of blood. The paramedic was giving him oxygen through a mask.

‘There are two people suffering from whiplash and sprains,’ the paramedic told them. ‘They’re being looked after by my colleague, along with another man who has chest injuries—broken ribs and collarbone, from what we can tell so far. This lad is Daniel Henderson, motorcyclist. He and his friend were on their way to the coast when they ran into trouble. The two motor vehicles crashed at a road junction and the lads had no way of avoiding them.’

James was already assessing the extent of the boy’s injuries. ‘His lower leg’s grossly deformed,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘It looks like a fracture of both the tibia and fibula. That degree of distortion has to be affecting the blood supply.’

The paramedic nodded. ‘He’s in severe pain, he’s very cold and his circulation is shutting down. We can’t give him pain relief because we can’t find a vein.’

It was a bad situation, because if there was an inadequate supply of blood to Daniel’s foot there was the possibility that gangrene would set in and he might lose his leg.

‘Thanks, Colin. I’ll do an intraosseous injection,’ James said, reaching into his medical bag for a bone injection gun. He spoke directly to the boy. ‘I’m going to give you something to take away the pain, Daniel. It’s a strong anaesthetic, so after a minute or two you’ll be feeling much better. There’ll be a sharp sting and soon after that you’ll start to feel drowsy. Are you okay with that?’

Daniel nodded and closed his eyes. It was a case of the sooner the better, as far as he was concerned.

‘Shall I clean the injection site and prepare the ketamine for you?’ Sarah asked, and James nodded.

‘Yes, thanks.’

As soon as she had cleaned and draped an area on Daniel’s upper arm, James located the injection site and pressed the device on the gun that would insert a trocar through the bone and into the soft marrow that was filled with blood vessels. Once he’d done that, he removed the trocar and taped the cannula, the smallbore tube, in place.

Sarah connected an intravenous tube to the cannula and then James was able to give the boy the medication he needed. ‘How are you doing, Daniel?’ he asked softly after a while. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m all right.’ Daniel’s voice became slurred as the drug began to take effect.

‘Can you feel this?’ James pressed a wooden tongue depressor against his leg.

Daniel shook his head.

‘That’s good, it means the anaesthetic’s working,’ James said. He glanced at Sarah. ‘I think we can safely try to realign the bones enough to restore his circulation. If you and Colin hold him still—Colin at his chest, and you, Sarah, take hold of his upper leg—I’ll manoeuvre his ankle and start to pull. We’ll need to take great care—we don’t know how much damage has already been done to the blood vessels. Let’s hope we can do this without too much of a struggle.’

He spoke softly so as not to alarm his patient, but Daniel was by now well anaesthetised and wasn’t much concerned about what was happening. Sarah guessed he was simply glad to be free of pain at last.

James worked carefully to straighten out the broken bones as best he could, and as soon as he had achieved that to his satisfaction, he began to splint the leg to prevent any further movement.

‘That should do the trick,’ he said. ‘His circulation should be restored now.’

Sarah kept an eye on Daniel the whole time. She was worried about him. He wasn’t saying anything, and had appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the procedure.

‘We should put in a fluid line,’ she said in an undertone. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood.’

‘Yes,’ James answered. ‘Do you want to see to that, and then we’ll transfer him to a spinal board?’

She didn’t waste any time, and as soon as she had set up the line they worked together to make sure the young lad was comfortable and covered with a space blanket. Then they secured him with straps to the board so that he could be transferred to the helicopter.

James left them briefly while he went to check on the other patients, but he returned quickly and took his place beside Sarah in the helicopter.

‘The others will be okay to travel by road,’ he said. ‘It’ll take around an hour for them to get to the hospital, but they’re in no immediate danger.’

He glanced at his patient. ‘I’ve asked Tom to radio ahead and alert A and E to have an orthopaedic surgeon standing by,’ he told Sarah. ‘How’s the lad doing?’

‘His blood pressure’s low and his heart rate is rapid, with a weak pulse,’ she answered. The signs of shock were all there, but they’d done everything they could for now, and all they could do was wait.

Tom was already setting the helicopter in motion, lifting them up off the ground. Within minutes he had turned them around and they were heading out across the Cornish peninsula towards the hospital, some thirty miles away.

James checked on the injured youth, lifting the blanket to look at his feet. ‘His toes are beginning to pink up,’ he pointed out, glancing at Sarah.

‘Oh, thank heaven,’ she said. She smiled at him, her mouth curving, her green eyes bright with relief. With his circulation restored, the imminent danger of Daniel losing his leg had been averted. ‘I’m so glad for him.’

James nodded. He gently tucked the blanket in place, but he didn’t once take his gaze from Sarah. He was watching her closely, as though he was mesmerised, taking in the warmth of her response, the soft flush of heat that flared in her cheeks.

The breath caught in her throat, and a familiar hunger surged inside her as she returned his gaze. There was a sudden, dull ache in her chest, an ache that came from knowing her unbidden yearning could never be assuaged. He still had the power to melt her bones and fill her with that humiliating need that would forever be her downfall.

She closed her eyes briefly. How on earth would she be able to work with him over the weeks, months that lay ahead?

‘We’ll be coming in to land in about two minutes.’ The pilot’s voice came over the speaker.

‘Okay, Tom. We’ll be ready.’ James turned his attention back to the boy on the stretcher. He was self-contained, in control, as always.

Sarah looked out of the window. She had to keep things between them on a professional footing. That was the only way she could survive. From now on it would become her mantra.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU look as though you could do with a break. Has it been a tough week?’ Murray laid a manila folder down on a corner of the pine kitchen table, avoiding the clutter of pastry boards and rolling pins. ‘I brought the colour charts I promised you,’ he added, tapping the folder. He stared at her, looking her up and down. ‘You’re not your usual jaunty self today. What’s up?’

‘Nothing’s up.’ Sarah smiled at her spiky-haired neighbour and waved him towards a chair. Perhaps she was a bit pale from being cooped up in the house, and since she was cooking with the children today there were probably traces of flour in her hair where she’d pushed it off her face with the back of her hand. ‘If I look less than on top of the world, I guess it’s because I was up till all hours last night, painting the walls in the living room. Sit down and I’ll pour you some tea. We were just about to have a cup.’

‘Sarah’s going to paint our bedrooms next,’ Sam put in eagerly. He was using a cutter to make gingerbread shapes, and he paused now to assess his handiwork. ‘She said we can choose the colours—’cept for black. She won’t let me have that.’ His bottom lip jutted and he frowned as he thought about that for a second or two. Then his eyes lit up. ‘Purple would be good, though—or bright red.’

‘We helped Sarah with the living room,’ Rosie put in. ‘Well, I did. Sam kept going off and playing on his game machine.’ She looked at her older brother and shook her head.

‘You were both a great help, all the same,’ Sarah said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘It’s going to be a long job, though,’ she admitted, glancing at Murray as she went over to the worktop at the side of the room. She lifted up the sunshine-yellow teapot. ‘I knew there would be a lot of work when we moved in here a fortnight ago. This place was in a pretty wretched state when I bought it.’

Murray pulled a face. ‘I guessed it was bad—the old man who used to live here wasn’t able to do much in the way of maintenance—but I knew he was looking for a quick sale once he’d decided to go and live with his son and his family in Somerset. I did what I could to help him out with things, but there was a limit to what I could do, with company business getting in the way. There were orders for goods coming in thick and fast and supplies from the warehouses were delayed and so on. There’s been a lot to sort out over the last few months.’ He frowned. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have pointed the house out to you,’ he finished on a thoughtful note.

She poured his tea and came towards him once more, placing the mug in front of him. ‘You did the right thing,’ she told him, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. ‘I’m really glad you told me about this place. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. It was exactly what I needed.’

‘Hmm … Well, I suppose a lick of paint here and there will work wonders.’ He glanced at the children, busy laying out gingerbread men on a baking tray. Rosie’s were perfectly symmetrical, with raisins placed in exactly the right place to represent eyes. Sam, on the other hand, was far more slapdash in his approach, and his men looked like cross-eyed vagabonds, with bits missing here and there. Sarah suspected he’d been surreptitiously tasting the uncooked mixture every now and again—the greasy smears around his mouth were a dead give-away.

Murray looked at Sarah once more as she placed the first batch of gingerbread men in the hot oven. ‘How’s the job going? Is it working out for you?’

She sat in a chair opposite him, leaving it to the children to finish rolling out the remains of the gingerbread mix on a pastry board.

‘I think so. It’s early days yet. My boss is watching my every move.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I think he’s worried I might slip up and inadvertently kill off one of our patients.’

James had not made it obvious that he was concerned about her ability to make the grade, but for the last week he’d checked everything she did, going over her charts and medication logs with a keen eye. Every now and again she would be aware of him assessing her actions, scrutinising the way she handled various procedures. She’d no idea why he was concerned about her abilities as a doctor, but in the past she’d always been headstrong and haphazard in her actions, and maybe he thought she’d breezed her way through medical school on a wing and a prayer.

Murray laughed. ‘As if!’ Then he sobered, glancing at the children, and added in an undertone, ‘Seriously, though, are you finding it all a bit much? You have a whole lot on your plate these days.’

‘It’s okay. I’m beginning to get used to the new routine. It’s just that …’ She broke off, her expression rueful. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, after a moment or two. ‘I don’t seem to have time to sit and think at the moment. Everything seems to be going at a breakneck pace—moving in here, the new job, finding a school for the children, taking on the internet work. It’s all come about in a short space of time.’ She straightened up and sipped at her tea. ‘I’m sure things will sort themselves out, though. Like I said, these are early days.’

‘Maybe it would help if I took the kids out for a while. That would give you some time to yourself—unless you’d like to come with us?’ He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘I need to head into town to pick up some hardware for my computer and I thought about dropping into the pizza place while I’m in the area.’

Sam’s ears pricked up at the mention of pizza. ‘When are you going? Can I go with you?’

‘Sure.’ Murray laughed. ‘If Sarah thinks it’s okay, that is.’ He glanced at her and she nodded. She’d known Murray for years, ever since they’d both taken part in a rock-climbing course at an outdoor pursuits centre. He ran his own internet company, working from home most of the time, selling sports equipment and accessories, advising people on how to keep fit, and setting up weekend sporting activities. She’d always found him to be reliable and trustworthy. The children would be safe with him, that was for sure.

‘That’s fine with me. I think I’ll give it a miss, though, if you don’t mind. I think I need some time to get myself together.’ It had been a stressful week, one way and another, and being with James every day had been harder to handle than she’d expected. She’d always known she should keep her distance from him, but now that she’d taken the job that was never going to happen. Every instinct warned her that whatever way she became involved with him, she might end up being hurt. He alone had the power to affect her that way. Emotionally he could leave her bereft.

She dragged her mind back to Murray’s offer. ‘I have to go and buy some groceries from the village store, and I could do with a walk along the clifftop and maybe even along the beach.’ She smiled. ‘Rosie and Sam never seem quite as keen on doing that as I am.’

Murray nodded and turned to look at Rosie. ‘How does pizza sound to you, Rosie? Are you in?’

‘Yes, please.’ She looked at Sarah and said hesitantly, ‘I don’t mind going for walks … not really … It’s just that …’ She broke off, her shoulders wriggling. ‘Mum used to take us along the seafront in Devon. Now … I get. I get all sad now when we go to the beach.’ Her eyes were downcast, and her lower lip was beginning to tremble.

‘Oh, Rosie …’ Sarah’s heart swelled with compassion, and she quickly stood up and went over to her. ‘I know how you must be feeling, pumpkin.’ She put her arms around the little girl and held her close. ‘I do understand. It’s hard … but you’ll see, it’ll get easier with time.’

‘We used to play football on the beach with Dad sometimes,’ Sam said, a wistful, far-away look in his blue-grey eyes. ‘He used to dive for the ball and then he’d fall over and we’d wrestle him for it.’

Sarah reached out and gently stroked his hair. She didn’t remember her father ever playing rough-and-tumble games like that with her when she’d been younger, but obviously he had changed, grasping a second chance of happiness after he had found her stepmother and started his new family. She felt for Rosie and Sam. They were going through something that no child should ever have to bear, but she was doing whatever she could to make life easier for them. It was difficult, though, because memories would come flooding in at unexpected moments, like this, putting her on the spot.

‘Sounds as though you could all do with a bit of cheering up,’ Murray said, coming to her rescue. ‘I think pizza with all the toppings will probably do the trick—and we could take some of your game DVDs into the store and swap them for those you were telling me about, Sam, if you like?’

‘Oh, yeah … that’d be great.’ Sam’s mood changed in mercurial fashion.

‘Rosie, you might like to check out some of the dance games,’ Sarah suggested, following Murray’s lead. ‘You have some pocket money saved up, don’t you?’

Rosie brightened and nodded, causing her soft brown curls to flutter and gleam in the sunlight that poured in through the kitchen window.

‘That’s settled, then,’ Murray said. ‘As soon as you’re ready, we’ll be off.’

After they had gone, Sarah cleared away and set out the cooked gingerbread men on racks to cool. A few were missing already, since Murray and the children had decided they smelled too good to leave until later. Sam’s pockets had been bulging as he’d left the house.

She looked around, suddenly feeling the need to go out and get away from all the jobs that were crying out for attention. Sam and Rosie would be gone for much of the afternoon, according to Murray, so maybe she would make the most of things and go and get some fresh air. The walk into the centre of the village would do her good and she could pick up some fresh supplies from the grocery store while she was there.

It was a beautiful spring day, with a blue sky overhead and patchy white clouds moving in from the coast. As she walked down the hill towards the seafront, past colour-washed cottages and narrow, cobbled side streets, she could feel the light breeze lifting her hair and billowing gently round the hem of her skirt. In the distance, boats were moored in the harbour, and closer to home fishermen tended their nets, laying them out on the smooth sand as they looked them over and prepared for the next trip out to sea.

Instead of going directly down to the beach, she took a path that led to a raised terrace overlooking the cove, and from there she gazed out across the bay towards the craggy promontory she had once explored as a teenager. It was some distance away, but she could see the waves dashing against the rocks, sending up fountains of spray to splash into the crevices. She’d gone there once with friends, and James had joined them. He had been on one of his brief visits home from medical school. He’d walked with her along the shore as she’d looked for shells buried in the warm sand. It had been a magical day, with the sun high in the sky and James by her side, a day that had almost made her dreams come true.

There was a movement beside her and it was almost as though by thinking of him she’d conjured him up. ‘It must seem a long time ago since you spent your days searching for crabs in those rock pools,’ James said, coming out of the blue to stand alongside her. He followed her gaze to the boulder-strewn beach some half a mile away.

She gave a startled jump, taking a step backwards as he went to place a hand on the metal railing in front of them. He quickly put his arm out to steady her, and then when she’d recovered her balance he let his hand rest on the curve of her hip.

‘Are you all right? I’m sorry if I surprised you.’ He sounded concerned and his glance moved over her to gauge her reaction. ‘I didn’t mean to creep up on you like that. I thought you’d be aware of me, but you must have been miles away in your head.’

‘Yes … I’m okay.’ She rested her fingers against her chest, on the soft cotton of her top, as though that might somehow calm the staccato beat of her heart. Where had he come from? She couldn’t think straight while he was so close, with his hand spreading fire along her skin, sending heated ripples of sensation to spread through her hips and along the length of her spine. ‘What … what are you doing here? Where did you come from?’

‘I was on my way home from the hospital and I decided to stop and pick up something to snack on from the village shop. Then I saw you standing here.’

‘Oh, I see.’ She frowned. ‘I thought this was your weekend off.’

He removed his hand and stepped closer to the rail, turning so that he could look at her properly. That ought to have made things easier for her, but instead her mind went blank for a moment or two as she unexpectedly felt the loss of his warm, intimate touch. Perversely, she wanted him to go on holding her.

‘Yes, it is, but one of the junior doctors was anxious about a patient and phoned me to ask what he should do. Apparently the consultant in charge was busy dealing with another emergency.’

‘Were you all right with that?’ She’d watched him work hard all week, putting in long hours, staying on to make sure his patients pulled through and were definitely stabilised or on the road to recovery before he would leave. He seemed reluctant to hand over responsibility until he had done everything humanly possible to make sure they were safe. It must have taken a toll on him, but it didn’t show. Despite all that supreme effort, he still managed to look fit and energetic, on top form.

Weekends were precious for everyone, but some senior medical staff guarded them as sacrosanct, a time to recuperate and recharge their batteries, something they’d earned after years of study and acquiring specialist qualifications. From what she’d heard, one or two consultants took a very dim view of things if juniors called them in to work out of hours. Of course, things tended to operate differently in the emergency department.

‘I was fine with it,’ James said. ‘I’d sooner I was there to see a patient if there are any worries about his or her condition. Junior doctors do their best, but they need support, and I try to give it as much as possible. Sometimes you can do it over the phone, but other times there’s nothing for it but to go in.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She had finished her foundation years, but she wasn’t much more than a junior doctor herself—James was far more experienced than she was. He’d started his training while she’d been about to begin her worrisome teens, and he’d always put his heart and soul into medicine. ‘What was the problem with the patient?’ She might be in the same boat herself one day, in a quandary as to whether she should call him out, and it would be helpful to know what kind of things she ought to bring to his attention.

‘A woman collapsed while she was being treated for an abdominal injury. The doctor followed all the protocols but she wasn’t responding, so in the end he called me to ask for advice. The senior staff were all too busy with other emergencies. There was obviously something more going on than the problems with her injury, but her medical records weren’t available. Her liver was damaged, nothing too major—at least, not enough to cause her total collapse. I’ve ordered a batch of tests, so we’ll know better what’s going on as soon as they come back from the lab. She’s being given supportive treatment in the meantime.’

His glance wandered over her, taking in the pale-coloured cotton top that faithfully followed her curves, and the gently flowing skirt that skimmed her hips, drifting and settling around her calves as she moved. His grey eyes seemed to glimmer as he studied her, though of course it might simply have been a trick of the light. ‘You’re looking very summery … just right for this warm sunshine,’ he said.

A wave of heat surged through her. She hadn’t expected him to comment or even notice how she looked, but perhaps it was the contrast between how she looked now and the way she dressed at work that had sparked his interest. One day a week when she went out with the air ambulance, when she wore a flight suit, and the rest of the time at work she dressed in scrubs, the basic A and E outfit.

She gave a wry smile. ‘It beats wearing scrubs, anyway, or even jeans. Just lately, when I’m at home I’ve been trying to get on with some decorating any chance I get, so it makes a change to be out of jeans for a while.’

‘Ah … of course, you only moved back here a couple of weeks ago, didn’t you? I imagine there’s a lot to do, settling into a new place.’

‘Yes, you’re right there. My back certainly knows all about it.’ She laughed, rubbing a hand over muscles that had only recently made themselves known to her.

‘Perhaps it’s just as well you’re having the afternoon off, then. Are you taking some time off from the decorating to explore the village? I expect you want to get to know the place all over again.’ He leaned back against the rail, at ease, his long body thoroughly relaxed as he watched her.

‘Yes, I thought I’d wander around for a while. Though, like you, I need to get some supplies from the store. I did a big shop when we arrived but now I’m running out of a few things.’

She glanced at him. He was smartly dressed, in dark, clean-cut trousers and a deep blue shirt, the kind of thing he usually wore for work in the emergency unit when he wasn’t in scrubs. Perhaps he’d left his jacket in his car, along with his tie. His shirt was open at the neck, exposing an area of smooth, suntanned throat. She looked away. ‘Did you park up somewhere around here?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘By the quayside. I don’t live too far away from here, but it’s more than a short walk and it’s uphill all the way.’ He pointed to the steps that were built into the hillside, with a protective rail to help along the way.

Sarah glanced at the steep, green slopes, covered with a rich array of grasses and shrubs. At intervals there were houses dotted about, overlooking the sea. ‘Do you live in one of those?’ she asked.

‘No. You can’t see my house from here. It’s further back, about a mile inland. I walk to the village sometimes to stretch my legs and take in the scenery.’

‘It must be a big change for you after all those years of living on your parents’ country estate.’

‘Yes, it is. But I like having my own space.’ He looked out to sea for a while, and they both watched a sailing vessel move across the horizon. ‘I wondered if you’d ever come back to Cornwall,’ he said. ‘You were in Devon for several years, weren’t you? Did you stay with your father there? He’d remarried before you left here, hadn’t he?’

‘Yes, he had … and Sam was already a year old by then. I did stay with my father in Devon for a short time.’ She moved restlessly, uncomfortable with memories that crowded her brain, and he followed as she began to walk along the cliff path.

‘But then …?’

‘I began to wonder if I might be in the way. What newly married couple wants a teenager around?’ She pulled a face. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t long before I went away to medical school, and I was glad to be independent. And it was easier to rent my own place, once I found friends to share with me.’

‘How did your father feel about that? After all, you and he had quite a few years here in Cornwall when it was just the two of you together.’

She shrugged awkwardly. ‘It was never all that comfortable for either of us once we were left on our own. He was withdrawn a lot of the time, and he preferred to be by himself. He’d have cut himself off from everyone and everything if it had been possible, but instead he had to go out to work to keep a roof over our heads. Then he met Tracy and everything changed.’

He frowned, looking at her with an intent expression. ‘That must have been hard on you after all that time of being out in the cold, so to speak.’

She pressed her lips together briefly. ‘She obviously sparked something in him that gave him a renewed zest for life. I guess I was glad he’d found some reason to join the human race once more.’ The path led down from where they were to the centre of the village, where the grocery store and the post office stood side by side. ‘I need to buy some fresh vegetables and a loaf of bread,’ she announced. ‘Are you heading in the same direction as me?’

‘I am. I thought I might get some sticky buns and one of Martha’s hot coffees to take away.’ He sent her a quick glance. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help me eat them—I didn’t have breakfast and I missed out on lunch with being called out so early this morning. It’s lazy of me, I know, but I can’t be bothered to go back home and cook.’

Her green eyes widened a fraction. ‘It’s the middle of the afternoon,’ she said in astonishment. ‘You ought to know better than to go without food in our line of work.’

He nodded, his mouth making a crooked line. His whole countenance changed when he smiled, and her heart gave a small lurch. ‘Consider me told off,’ he said. ‘How about the buns? Do you want to share?’

‘Okay.’ She pushed open the door of the shop and a bell jangled to alert Martha, the proprietor, to her customers. ‘But I’ll go one better than that. Why don’t you come over to my place and I’ll heat up some soup and warm some bread rolls in the oven? Then you can have the buns for afters. I only live about five minutes’ walk from here.’ The suggestion was out before she had time to consider whether she was wise to get in closer contact with this man who had haunted her, metaphorically speaking, ever since her change from teenage brat to emerging womanhood.

‘Well, that’s too good an offer to miss … if you’re sure?’ His brow creased. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It’s no bother. But if you were to collapse through malnutrition, I wouldn’t want to have it on my conscience.’ She gave him an admonishing glance and he laughed.

‘Thanks, Sarah. Besides, I’m curious to see where you’re living now. I heard you’d bought a place, rather than renting. That sounds enterprising, coming from a girl who wanted to be free as a bird and explore new pastures.’

‘Hmm.’ Her cheeks flushed with warm colour. ‘I was very young and naïve when I came out with that statement.’ She’d been brash, full of youthful defiance, keen to let him know that she wouldn’t be staying around for much longer. In truth, in her mind, she’d been running away. Her mouth made an odd twist. ‘It’s actually not up to much, and I think you might be quite disappointed when you see it. I know I was, but I was already contracted to buy it.’

He gave her a perplexed glance. ‘You mean you bought it without seeing it?’

‘That’s right. It came up for auction and I didn’t have time to suss it out before putting in an offer. It was just about as much as I could afford.’ She lifted her arms in a futile gesture. ‘And I was in a bit of a hurry.’

‘It sounds like it.’

‘Can I help you?’ Martha bustled forward, ready to serve them, her face creasing in a smile. ‘Have you managed to sort yourself out, my dear?’ she queried gently, looking at Sarah. ‘You did quite a bit of stocking up last time you were in here, didn’t you? I must say, you don’t look quite as harassed as you did then.’

‘I think it’s all beginning to work out,’ Sarah answered cheerfully. ‘You had pretty well everything I needed to get me started with the cleaning and so on … but I just want a few bits this time around.’

Martha collected together everything off Sarah’s list, and she and James left the shop a few minutes later, loaded with packages. James was munching on one of the buns he’d bought.

‘Here, let me carry those for you,’ he said, relieving her of a couple of bags. He peered inside them. ‘There are a lot of vegetables in here for just one young woman.’

‘Ah … perhaps you didn’t know …’ She sent him a quick, sideways look. ‘I’m not on my own these days.’

‘You’re not?’ His step halted momentarily and he frowned, glancing at her ring finger and then, seeing that it was bare, said, ‘Have I missed something? Are you involved with someone?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ She walked determinedly up the hill towards her cottage.

He sent her a puzzled look, but they’d reached her house by now and she stood still, looking up at the blotchy, white-painted building with its peeling woodwork. ‘This is it. This is where I’m living now.’

He stared, his gaze moving up to the roof where a few slates were cracked or missing altogether. To his credit, he managed to keep a straight face as he said slowly, ‘I think you might have your work cut out here.’

She laughed. ‘You said it … but that’s nothing. Wait till you see the inside.’ She’d already reinforced his view that she was as reckless as ever, buying on impulse, so what did it matter if he looked around and saw the pitiful state it was in?

They walked along the drab hallway to the kitchen, where he set the bags and packages down on the pine table. He glanced thoughtfully around the room for a moment or two, taking in the flaking ceiling and the windows that hadn’t seen a lick of paint for quite some time.

‘The cupboards and worktops look as though they’re made of solid wood,’ he commented after a while. ‘I suppose they could be stripped back and restored to their original condition—or painted, depending on how you feel about it.’

‘Hmm. Yes, you’re right. I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to do yet.’ She smiled at him. He was being positive, and that made her feel much better. ‘I’ll put the soup on a low heat, and the rolls in the oven, and I could show you around the place while they’re warming up, if you like?’

He nodded. ‘Sounds good to me. Can I do anything to help? Shall I put the kettle on?’

‘Okay, thanks. Mugs are over there, cutlery in the drawer.’

They worked together for a while, and then she took him on a whistle-stop tour of the three-bedroomed cottage, pointing out the best features, where she was able to find any.

‘I knew the structure of the house was reasonably sound when I bid for it,’ she told him, ‘because Murray, my neighbour, is a good friend, and he knew about the property—from a layman’s point of view, of course.’

‘Ah … I see … I think.’ He hesitated. ‘Have you known him long?’

She nodded. ‘For years, though of course we’ve been out of touch until recently. He’s been a great help to me.’ They were in one of the bedrooms, and she waved a hand towards the small fireplace. ‘I’m not sure quite what to do about that. As you’ve seen, there’s a fireplace in each of the three bedrooms.’ She frowned. ‘They say you should keep any character features like that if at all possible when you’re renovating, but they don’t look too good at the moment, and anyway I’m wondering if the rooms might be a bit chilly with the open chimney.’

He shook his head. ‘The chimney shouldn’t make any difference, and from the looks of things you have central heating, which should keep everything cosy. I think it would be a good idea to keep them. The house is Victorian and pretty solid in most respects, and it would be a pity to lose its character. It should be a fairly straightforward job to renovate them—you have to get rid of any rust, of course, apply a coat of red oxide and then when that’s dry rub in some black grate polish. It doesn’t come off once it’s done, and the fireplace will look as good as new.’

‘You’re probably right.’ She was thoughtful. ‘I’ll put it on my list of things to do—it’s getting to be quite a long list.’

‘I could do it for you, if you like.’

She blinked in astonishment. ‘You’d do that?’ She was completely bowled over by his unexpected offer. Why would he want to spend time doing anything at all in this old, neglected house? And why would he do it for her?

‘I think it’s something I would enjoy.’ He went over to the fireplace and ran his fingers lightly over the partially engraved cast iron. ‘I often did restoration work in the family home, don’t you remember? There was that time I was up a stepladder, trying to decide what colours to use on the ornate ceiling in the dining room, when you walked in.’ He sent her an oblique glance, a glimmer sparking in his dark eyes.

‘Oh.’ The breath left her lungs in a small gasp. How could he have brought that up? Did he recall everything, every tiny instance of when she’d brought havoc into his life? ‘How was I to know you were balanced on a ladder?’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to take you by surprise. All I knew was I was supposed to go to the house and find someone who would get me started on the apple picking. I should have gone to the study, but I went into the dining room by mistake.’

‘And I narrowly avoided taking a nose dive.’

‘Because I managed to steady the ladder just in time—’

‘Only after I grabbed hold of the mahogany cabinet and regained my balance.’

‘Yes, well …’ Sarah clamped her mouth shut. Perhaps it was for the best if she didn’t say any more. It was an experience that had alarmed her greatly at the time. For a number of years she had worked on the estate in the summer holidays and this particular season she had been scheduled to spend time in the orchards. She hadn’t meant to catch her employer’s son off guard, and the consequences could have been disastrous. ‘You made a good job of the ceiling anyway,’ she said, breaking her vow of silence.

He grinned. ‘I guess I did, in the end. It took a while, though. A couple of weeks at least.’ He moved away from the fireplace. ‘I’ll make a start with the fires as soon as I get hold of the red oxide and the polish … that’ll be sometime next week, I expect.’

‘Um, okay. Thanks. That would be really good. I’m really stunned that you should offer.’ She looked around for a moment at the fading wallpaper and gave a soft sigh. It would all get done eventually.

‘As you say, the house is sound in most respects,’ James commented, interpreting her rueful expression. ‘It doesn’t look much now, but with care and attention it could be something quite special.’

She smiled at him. ‘Yes, you’re right, of course.’ She turned towards the door and said, ‘I think you’ve seen everything now—shall we go and see if the soup’s ready?’

The kitchen was warm from the old AGA, and Sarah soon had the table set for the meal. She put out butter, ham and cheese, along with a bowl of fresh salad, and invited James to sit and eat. Then she remembered the gingerbread men and laid some out on a plate, sliding it alongside the sticky buns James had bought.

‘Help yourself,’ she said, taking a seat across the table from him.

He smiled as he looked at the food, and sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Mmm,’ he murmured, ladling soup from the tureen into his bowl. ‘This smells appetising—like home-cooked vegetables in a rich, meaty broth.’ He dipped his spoon in the soup and tasted the mixture, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘Ah … this is wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything quite like it.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it—though if you’re that hungry, I expect anything would taste good right now.’ She grinned. ‘Although I did spend a good deal of yesterday evening getting it ready.’

His dark brows rose, and he looked at her dubiously, as though he expected to see her nose grow like Pinocchio’s had whenever he’d told a lie. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said in astonishment. ‘You, spending time in a kitchen? I can scarcely believe it. As I recall, you’d sooner grab a burger or a baguette or stick something in the microwave so that you could be on your way. Wherever did you learn to cook?’

‘Oh, here and there. It turned out to be a bit of a necessity once I was on my own.’ She laughed. ‘To be honest, I soon got very tired of convenience food and decided I needed to buy a cook book.’ She helped herself to salad, adding grated cheese to her plate alongside the ham.

‘You certainly look good on whatever it is you’ve been eating these last few years.’ His glance trailed over her. ‘You’ve filled out—as I recall, you were a skinny little thing with flyaway hair that was forever coming loose from the pins, or whatever it was you used to keep it in place.’

Her mouth made a brief, crooked slant. ‘Not much change with the hair, then.’ She’d brushed it before leaving the house, securing it in a topknot as best she could, and even now she could feel silky strands parting company with the clips.

She bent her head and pretended to be absorbed with her meal. He’d called her skinny. No wonder he’d not even looked at her the way she’d hoped for back then when she’d been seventeen. Warm colour filled her cheeks. Skinny. He’d made a twosome with Chloe, the daughter of the local innkeeper—she’d had curves aplenty, along with golden hair and dreamy blue eyes. She’d seen them having lunch together at a pub, and his defection had been the final straw to a love-starved teenager. She’d vowed then she would get away from the village and leave James far behind.

And yet now she was sharing a meal with him in her fading, love-starved cottage. She must be mad.

She gathered her composure and forced herself to look at him once more. ‘I made another pot of tea—would you like a cup?’ She was already reaching for the teapot.

He nodded. ‘Thanks. That would be great.’ He was staring absentmindedly at the plate of gingerbread men. Some had bits of leg missing, or half an arm, and that made him smile. ‘They smell good—more wounded soldier than fighting men, I’d guess,’ he said.

‘Oh, yes. They’re Sam’s addition to the feast. He’s always in too much of a hurry to bother with perfection.’

He frowned. ‘Sam—so there’s someone else, as well as Murray? Your life must be getting quite complicated.’

‘Yes.’ She glanced at him and said quietly, ‘Perhaps you haven’t heard what happened to my father and Tracy?’ It had been a terrible shock, and she had never felt more alone in her life when she’d heard the news of their accident.

‘Something happened to them?’ His expression was suddenly serious, and Sarah nodded unhappily.

‘They were caught up in a road-traffic accident.’ She pressed her lips together briefly. ‘Unfortunately their injuries were serious and they died almost instantly.’

He drew in a sharp breath, his features taut. ‘I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Sarah. That must have been awful for you.’

‘It was. It was a difficult time.’ She closed her eyes fleetingly, resting a hand on the table, unable to concentrate on anything for that moment, while her mind was lost in the memory of those dreadful weeks when the world as she’d known it had come to a standstill.

His fingers closed over hers, in a comforting gesture that brought her back to the present and made her look up into his dark eyes.

‘Did you have friends to support you?’

‘Thankfully, yes.’

‘I’m glad. I wish I could have been there for you.’

‘Thank you.’ She sent him a gentle smile. ‘But I coped. The biggest problem for me back then was what to do about Sam and Rosie, of course … my half-brother and half-sister. Sam’s ten years old, and Rosie’s eight.’ She frowned. ‘I think you might have seen Sam when he was a baby … at the wedding reception of a mutual friend. Anyway, they both live with me now.’

‘But … surely there was some other relative who could have taken them in? An uncle and aunt, perhaps?’ He looked shocked. ‘How can it be that you’re looking after them?’

Her shoulders lifted. ‘There’s no one else, so they’re my responsibility now. That’s why we moved back here, so that I could take up this new job and hopefully keep a roof over our heads.’

He shook his head, a perplexed expression on his face. ‘I’d no idea, none at all.’

‘Why would you?’ she said quietly.

They finished their meal and James helped her to clear away. It was plain to see he was stunned by what she had told him, and later, when he was getting ready to leave, he said, ‘You’ve taken on something that others would baulk at, you know.’ His features relaxed. ‘But somehow I might have expected it of you. You were always up for a challenge, weren’t you?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Let’s hope this one doesn’t turn and bite back.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘HOW are you feeling today, Nicola?’ James picked up his patient’s chart and then moved to the bedside where he gave the woman an engaging smile.

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