His mouth twisted into something not quite a smile. “Are we still friends, Nell?”

“Of course, we are,” she insisted. “You’re my pal, my best mate.”

Oh, hell.

Deep breaths, Nell. Take deep breaths. True, your heart is thudding like it’s about to explode, but don’t say anything rash because if you’ve got this wrong, if you’ve misunderstood him, you are going to look really, really stupid.

“Jonah, I…” She moistened her lips. “When you say that you wish you were, do you mean that you wish…that you…that…?”

He put down his teacup. “Nell, I’ve always been lousy with words so maybe…” He reached out and cupped her face gently with his hand. “Maybe this might make it clearer?”

Oh, hell. Oh, double, triple hell. His eyes were dark and hot, and he wasn’t doing anything, simply cupping her cheek gently with his fingers. She knew he was giving her plenty of time to back away, plenty of time to get to her feet, but she didn’t want to back away, and she didn’t want to get to her feet.

“Nell?”

So much conveyed in one little word. So much implied, and asked, and understood. And though a niggling little voice whispered at the back of her mind that this was a very bad idea, the hand cupping her cheek was trembling, and so was she. Nell wanted so much to kiss him, to know what it would feel like, so when his lips came slowly toward hers, she leaned forward to meet them without any hesitation at all.

Dear Reader,

I’m always being asked where I get my characters from, and the truth is I don’t know! My characters usually just creep into my mind when I’m doing the most ordinary of things, like washing the dishes, driving to the shops or even peeling a batch of potatoes. Jonah and Nell were different. When I was writing The Good Father I became so fond of Jonah and Nell that I knew I had to tell their story. The trouble was that although Jonah was a terrific neonatal-intensive-care-unit doctor, he was also a nice, ordinary man, and nice, ordinary men don’t make good heroes, do they? And then I thought, why couldn’t a nice, ordinary man be heroic? After all, in a crisis situation, it’s often the ordinary Joe—or in this case, the ordinary Jonah—who surprises everybody. So I set out to show that Jonah had hidden depths, and, more important, to make sure that Nell finally saw them, which was trickier to achieve. I hope I succeeded. They’ve become two of my favorite people, and I hope you like them, too!

Maggie

A Consultant Claims His Bride

Maggie Kingsley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

SHE’D been dumped. No matter how hard Nell Sutherland stared at the email on her computer screen, she knew it wasn’t going to change. She’d been dumped. And not in person, not even in a phone call or a letter, but in a sodding email sent to her at work.

I expect you’ve realised we’ve grown apart.

Well, actually, no, I hadn’t realised that, Nell thought. In fact, it would have been kind of hard for me to know anything when I’m here in Glasgow, and you’re in New York, and for the last six months you’ve ended all your phone calls with the words ‘Love you—miss you.’

I’ve met a wonderful girl called Candy.

And what does that make me? Nell thought with a spurt of anger. You must have thought I was wonderful once, Brian, or you wouldn’t have lived with me for a year, or suggested we get engaged before you went to the States. And what sort of name was Candy? Candy was sweets, not women. Unless, of course, the woman in question was eye-candy and she’d bet her next ward manager’s pay cheque that Candy was.

‘Nell, Tommy Moffat’s blood test results are back from the lab.’

Nell minimised the email quickly, fixed a bright and perky ‘all’s right with my world’ smile to her lips, and turned to face the neonatal intensive care unit secretary.

‘Good news, or bad?’ she said, and Fiona frowned.

‘Frustrating would be a better word. Tommy doesn’t have anaemia, or any sign of an infection, so it looks like you’re back to square one.’

‘Damn,’ Nell muttered, taking the results the secretary was holding out to her. ‘Jonah was sure his failure to thrive was due to another bout of sepsis. He’s going to freak when he hears it’s not.’

Jonah would. The specialist registrar had always been a dedicated doctor but since Gabriel Dalgleish, the consultant in charge of the neonatal intensive care unit at the Belfield Infirmary, had left him temporarily in charge of the unit while he was away on his honeymoon, Jonah’s dedication to the babies had gone into overdrive.

‘He’s working too hard,’ Fiona observed, as though she’d read Nell’s mind. ‘Can’t you get him to relax or, better yet, find him somebody to relax with as you did for Gabriel?’

Nell laughed. She’d been as amazed as the rest of the staff to see their brusque and aloof consultant fall in love with her cousin Maddie, but finding somebody for Jonah Washington was another thing entirely.

‘If I had a flat tyre, Jonah would be the first man I’d call,’ she said. ‘If I needed help moving some furniture, it would be Jonah I’d ask. He’s my best friend next to my cousin Maddie, but…’

‘But no wow factor,’ Fiona finished for her, and Nell nodded.

Jonah was…well, Jonah was just Jonah. A six foot four inches, solid bear of a man with light brown hair, and dark brown eyes, he was a rock any sensible woman would want to cling to in a storm but he definitely had no wow factor.

Brian had the wow factor by the bucketful. Tall, blond, with deep blue eyes and a devastating smile, he’d arrived at the Belfield Infirmary two years ago as the new consultant in charge of the anaesthetics department. He’d also arrived with a reputation as a heartbreaker but as Nell had never for one second imagined he’d be interested in a girl who was five feet nine, with a figure even her best friends described as ‘generous’, she’d treated him casually, dismissively, only to be completely stunned when he’d asked her out.

I’ll always be very fond of you, Nell, but it’s better for us both to know now that it would never have worked out than for us to have got married and been unhappy.

Yes, but better for who, Brian? she wondered, feeling tears prick at the backs of her eyes.

She was the one who was going to have to tell everybody at the Belfield their engagement was off. She was the one who would have to endure the false sympathy, the pitying looks, the whispered comments of how they’d all known it wouldn’t last, not a girl like her with a man like Brian, while he was safe in New York.

‘Nell, are you OK?’

A slight frown was creasing Fiona’s forehead and Nell forced her bright and chirpy smile back into place.

‘Fine, absolutely fine,’ she said, getting briskly to her feet. ‘I’d better take these results along to Jonah and Bea. They’ve been stressing about them all morning.’

‘It must be odd, watching someone else doing your old ward sister’s job,’ Fiona said, as she followed Nell out of her small office.

‘It is,’ Nell admitted, ‘but Bea’s settled in really well even if she will persist in calling me Sister Sutherland instead of Nell.’

‘Apparently, the ward manager of her last NICU was a real stickler for protocol.’

‘Then her last ward manager needed to get a life,’ Nell declared. ‘My main concern is the smooth running of the unit, not whether people call me by my surname or my first name.’

Fiona laughed. ‘Yes, but, then, you’ve never been big on attitude, have you?’

She hadn’t, and maybe that had been her mistake. Maybe if she’d insisted on going to New York with Brian, instead of meekly accepting his decision that she should stay in Scotland, none of this would have happened.

‘It would be crazy for us both to uproot ourselves from the Belfield Infirmary for just a year,’ he’d said. ‘I’m only going because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me to see how an anaesthetics department works in the States. I know we’ll miss one another but I’ll be back in Glasgow before you know it.’

Except now he wouldn’t. He would be staying in New York with Candy. Candy who was probably a petite and perfect size six, with gleaming white teeth and the kind of tumbling blonde hair that wouldn’t look out of place in a shampoo commercial.

‘Nell, are you sure you’re OK?’

Fiona’s eyes were curious now, speculative, and Nell hitched her smile up so high it was a wonder her face didn’t crack.

‘I’ve just got a bad attack of Monday morning winter blues, that’s all.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Fiona said with feeling. ‘I hate October. It’s such a depressing, absolutely nothing sort of a month, isn’t it? I wish it was Christmas. It will be George’s first, you know.’

And, as the secretary babbled on about her baby son, Nell made polite noises and scarcely heard her.

Where had it all gone wrong? How had it all gone wrong? She loved Brian. She’d thought he loved her. He’d said he did. He’d even said he loved her curves, but he’d also never objected when she’d told him she was going on yet another diet. Maybe if she’d stuck to the diets. Maybe if she hadn’t confessed to him that her blonde highlights were fake and she was actually a dull and mousy brown underneath. Maybe if…

‘Is that Tommy Moffat’s blood test results?’

Jonah Washington was walking down the corridor towards them and, as Fiona hurried back to her office, Nell handed him the results and waited for the explosion to come.

It did.

‘If he’s not anaemic, or caught another infection, then what the hell’s wrong with him?’ Jonah exclaimed, dragging his fingers through his straight brown hair, making it look even more unruly than usual. ‘I know he was twelve weeks premature, but preemies normally gain weight quite quickly once we’ve stabilised them and yet his weight gain in the two weeks he’s been in NICU has been minuscule.’

‘At least he is putting on weight,’ Nell declared. ‘I know it’s not been much, but eating is one of the most energy-consuming processes for any newborn and preemie’s digestive tracts are often just not sufficiently developed to handle food even if it’s through an IV line.’

‘Bea wonders if he could have necrotising enterocolitis,’ Jonah said as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘I know there’s no sign of tension in his stomach or blood in his bowels—’

‘Jonah, if Tommy had any damage to his intestines, it would have shown up on the X-rays,’ Nell interrupted gently.

‘Yes, but what if the X-ray equipment is faulty?’

‘It’s highly unlikely.’

‘But what if it is?’

‘Jonah.’

He stared at her silently for a moment, then his lips quirked. ‘I’m overreacting, aren’t I?’

‘Just a bit,’ she said, and he laughed.

‘Good old Nell. What would I do without you to keep me grounded?’

Good old Nell. That was how everybody saw her. Good old Nell, always game for everything, when in reality she was sometimes so nervous at social events that she felt physically sick. Good old Nell, who made jokes about her height and her weight but only to prevent other people making them first. How in the world was she ever going to get Brian back? And she did want him back. Desperately.

‘Nell, is there something wrong?’ Jonah said, his brown eyes suddenly concerned, and she managed a shaky laugh.

‘You’re the second person to ask me that this morning, and I’m fine. Just suffering from a bad attack of ward manager’s paperwork blues.’

‘You’re sure that’s all it is?’ he pressed, and she felt a betraying flush of colour creep across her cheeks.

Hellfire and damnation. Jonah always seemed to sense when something was wrong with her, but she didn’t want to tell him about Brian. Not yet, at any rate. Not when she was so perilously close to tears.

‘Of course I’m sure,’ she insisted. ‘You’ve seen my office, Jonah. I’m drowning under forms and requisition sheets in there.’

For a moment she didn’t think he believed her, then, to her relief, he nodded.

‘Snap. I always used to wonder why Gabriel was first into the unit and last to leave. Now I know.’

‘But you’re enjoying being temporary master of all you survey,’ she said, and he grinned.

‘I think everyone has a little bit of the dictator in them.’

‘You, a dictator?’ She laughed. ‘Jonah, you’re as soft as butter.’

‘Says the girl who’s a complete pushover,’ he countered, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she kept her smile in place.

‘Do you want me to set up Tommy’s tests again?’ she said, deliberately changing the subject.

‘I’d feel happier if we did,’ he admitted. ‘I know you think I’m panicking needlessly…’

‘But your gut instinct says something’s wrong,’ she finished for him. ‘OK, I’ll reschedule the tests, but I’ll bet you a fiver he’s simply a slow developer.’

‘You’re on,’ he said as he led the way into the special care section of the unit.

‘I see Donna’s mother is here again,’ Nell murmured, noticing Mrs Harrison sitting beside her daughter’s incubator.

‘Mrs Harrison is always here.’ Jonah sighed. ‘I’ve tried telling her there’s no cause for concern, that her daughter is only in Special because she developed jaundice after she was born. Could you have a word with her? I’ve done my best, but it’s like talking to a brick wall.’

It was.

‘But I have to stay with Donna,’ Sheila Harrison protested when Nell voiced Jonah’s concern. ‘If I leave her she might…she might…’

‘Sheila, jaundice isn’t a life-threatening condition,’ Nell declared. ‘It’s simply caused by bilirubin, a byproduct of the natural breakdown of blood cells, not being recycled back into the body by the liver as it should be. We’re giving Donna extra fluids and light therapy, and her body is now eliminating the excess bilirubin so we should be able to transfer her to Transitional quite soon.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘You have a boy of six and a girl of four, don’t you?’ Nell interrupted, and Sheila nodded.

‘My mother’s looking after them. She’s been great.’

‘I’m sure she has, but she’s not your children’s mum, is she? Sheila, tell me something,’ Nell continued when the woman said nothing. ‘How much time have you spent with your son and daughter since Donna was born?’

Sheila looked at her as though she was insane. ‘Sister, my baby’s lying here ill, and you’re asking me how how much time I’ve…I’ve…’

‘Been out enjoying yourself?’ Nell finished for her. ‘Sheila, you mustn’t neglect your other children because Donna has to stay in the unit for a little while. If you do, they’re going to resent her before you’ve even take her home.’

‘But—’

‘You need to spend time with them, and you need to take care of yourself,’ Nell continued. ‘Even if all you do is go for a walk, or read a book for an hour, it will relax you, make you less stressed, and the less stressed you are the better you’ll be able to cope.’

‘I guess so,’ Sheila said uncertainly, then tears filled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Sister. I thought I’d just take Donna home after she was born, like I did with my other kids, but life—it has a horrible habit of slapping you in the face sometimes, doesn’t it?’

Tell me about it, Nell thought as she gave Mrs Harrison’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking towards the unit door. That morning, when she’d got up she’d thought she had it all. A fiancé, her new promotion to ward manager of the neonatal intensive care unit of the Belfield Infirmary, and now…

Now nobody’s eyes would light up any more when they saw her. Nobody would make her feel loved, and special, the way Brian had.

‘Nell?’

Jonah looked apologetic and her heart sank.

‘Tell me the worst,’ she said.

‘Admin want a word about your patient through-put figures, the rep from the pharmaceutical company has just arrived, and Maternity are querying your transfer documentation for Adam Thornton.’

‘What’s there to query?’ she protested. ‘Adam was born in Maternity on Saturday. He developed breathing problems on Sunday and they transferred him down to us.’

‘Apparently you didn’t complete the form in triplicate. Sorry, Nell,’ Jonah added as she groaned. ‘It looks like it’s going to be one of those days.’

He didn’t know the half of it, she thought, but, then, neither did she. It turned out to be a nightmare Monday. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. One of the ward nurses dropped Tommy Moffat’s new blood samples just after they’d been taken, Bea screwed up the time the ophthalmologist was supposed to arrive to check Donna Harrison’s eyes, the pharmaceutical rep overstayed his welcome by a good hour, and as for Admin…

‘I tell you, Fiona,’ Nell said as she shut the drawer of her filing cabinet with a bang. ‘If Admin had phoned me one more time today I would have—’

‘Marched down to the second floor and rammed the phone down their throats?’ the departmental secretary suggested, and Nell shook her head grimly.

‘I was thinking of somewhere considerably more painful.’ She glanced at the clock on her office wall. ‘Lord, is it half past eight already? I’m off home for a bath, and a mindless evening spent curled up on the sofa in front of the TV.’

‘But you can’t,’ Fiona protested. ‘We’re all supposed to be going down to the function suite after we finish our shifts. For Wendy’s leaving bash, remember?’

Nell hadn’t remembered, and now she’d been reminded she didn’t want to go. Wendy might be a lovely girl, and terrific at hurrying up their test results when they sent them down to Urology, but she was leaving because she was pregnant. Which meant tonight’s event would be dominated by jokes about bumps and stomach-churning Oh-my-God-but-I-thought-I-was-being-torn-in-two stories, and she didn’t want to listen to either.

‘Fiona, I’m sorry, but—’

‘Jonah, tell Nell there’s no way she can duck out of Wendy’s farewell buffet,’ Fiona interrupted, as the specialist registrar appeared at Nell’s office door. ‘We’re all expected, aren’t we?’

‘Nobody is going to notice if I’m not there,’ Nell protested. ‘I’m so tired, and by the time I go home, get changed—’

‘You don’t need to change,’ Jonah declared. ‘Just take off your uniform and put on what you came into work in. That’s what I’m going to do.’

Yes, but I bet you didn’t come into work wearing your oldest denim shirt and tatty jogging trousers, Jonah.

‘We’re not going to take no for an answer, Nell,’ Jonah continued as she opened her mouth to say just that. ‘And I bet you anything, you’ll have a ball.’

He’d been wrong, Nell thought, an hour later as she stood rammed up against the wall of the function suite unable to move because of the crush of people around her. An hour spent having her bikini line waxed would have been infinitely preferable to listening to everybody enjoying themselves while she felt as though her heart was breaking.

Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed them back. Lord, but she was getting maudlin now, and she hadn’t even had that much to drink. Just two glasses of wine because Jonah still hadn’t returned from the scrum around the bar with another one for her.

‘What are you doing hiding away in this corner?’ Liz Fenton, the sister from obs and gynae, demanded as she pushed her way through the throng towards her. ‘You’re usually right out there in the middle of everything.’

‘Rough day, Liz,’ Nell muttered, trying to sidestep her colleague without success.

‘Fiona was telling me Maddie and Gabriel are in Sweden at the moment, then they’re off to Philadelphia and Boston, before coming back to Glasgow via Rome.’

Nell nodded. ‘They’ll be away for six weeks in all.’

‘Nice for some,’ Liz said dryly. ‘My honeymoon was two weeks in Inverness. It rained every day.’

‘Be fair, Liz, Gabriel’s never taken all of his annual leave,’ Nell protested. ‘And he’s using part of his honeymoon to check out all the new developments in neonatal care in Europe and the States.’

‘Poor Maddie.’ Liz laughed. ‘I hope you’ve told Brian you’ve no intention of spending any of your honeymoon visiting anaesthetic departments.’

I want to go home, Nell thought. I just want to go home.

‘Wendy looks radiant, doesn’t she?’ Liz continued. ‘Have you and Brian decided whether you’re going to try for a baby right away after you’re married, or wait for a bit?’

‘If she’s any sense, she’ll wait,’ Fiona said, appearing at their side. ‘Not that I’d ever be without George, but when I remember all the stitches I needed after he was born. Maternity said…’

Get me out of here, Nell thought as Fiona launched into a wince-inducing account of how George’s head had been so big he’d torn her vagina in two places. Somebody—anybody—please, get me out of here.

‘Maybe I should help Jonah with our drinks,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s so crowded in here.’

Liz groaned. ‘Oh, hell, Patty’s crying again.’

‘Patty?’ Nell repeated. ‘Who’s Patty?’

‘Patty Burton, one of the radiology technicians. Her boyfriend dumped her at the weekend.’

Nell glanced in the direction of Liz’s gaze and saw a girl in a tiny, figure-hugging black dress, sobbing into a handkerchief. Know how you feel, Patty. Well, she didn’t know how it felt to wear a tiny, figure-hugging black dress, but she did know all about the being dumped part.

‘Maybe one of us should go over, see if we can help?’ Nell said uncertainly, and Liz shook her head.

‘Not unless you want her to listen to her repeat “But I love him” for the rest of the evening.’

‘Maybe she does,’ Nell protested. ‘And if she does, she must be feeling awful.’

‘Agreed.’ Fiona nodded. ‘But walking around like a wet lettuce isn’t going to get him back, is it? What she needs is to start dating somebody else, make her rat-fink ex-boyfriend jealous, let him see what he’s missing.’

Which was fine in theory, Nell thought, except the world wasn’t exactly overflowing with eligible, fanciable men.

‘I know it must be tough if you’ve picked a jerk,’ Liz observed, ‘but there’s lots of good men out there. Look at my Sandy.’

Nell preferred not to. No man who was obsessed with rare chicken breeds could ever light her fire.

‘Or Fiona’s Graham, or your Brian, Nell,’ Liz continued. ‘Loyal, dependable, every one of them. And speaking of Brian,’ the obs and gynae sister continued, ‘you must be missing him like crazy.’

‘I…I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me,’ Nell said desperately. ‘I’ve just seen…’

Nobody. She’d seen nobody, but she had to get away or Wendy’s leaving bash was going to have two sobbing members of staff as a sideshow.

‘Hey, no need to panic,’ Jonah said, his smile broadening as she elbowed her way through the crush of people in front of her only to walk straight into him. ‘I’ve got your drink.’

‘Give it to Liz or Fiona,’ she said. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘But the party’s hardly started,’ he protested, and she shook her head.

‘It’s over as far as I’m concerned.’

‘Oh, come on!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s not like you to walk out on a slap-up buffet.’

His brown eyes were dancing and suddenly it was all too much for her—Brian’s email, her rotten day—and something inside her snapped.

‘You mean I’m a big fat pig who would go anywhere she could stuff her face,’ she retorted. ‘Well, thanks, Jonah. Thanks for nothing.’

The laughter in his eyes died instantly.

‘I didn’t say that,’ he protested. ‘I would never even think it. Look, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been stretched tighter than a wire all day.’

‘Why does there have to be anything the matter with me?’ she demanded, trying to push past him, but it was like trying to move a boulder. ‘Why do I always have to be happy Nell? Can’t I ever feel down, or miserable, or…or just plain fed up?’ Oh, Lord, if she didn’t get out of there soon she was going to burst into tears. ‘Get out of my way, Jonah.’

‘Not until you tell me what’s wrong,’ he said.

‘Jonah, if you don’t get out of my way, I swear I’ll stomp on your foot.’

He thrust the glass of wine he was holding into the hands of a startled passing junior doctor, then folded his arms over his chest. ‘Stomp away, Nell, because I’m not moving.’

He meant it. She could tell from the look on his face that he meant it, but she could also see concern on his features, concern and kindness, and the tears she’d been trying so hard to keep in check all day filled her eyes.

‘Take me home, Jonah,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Please. I just want to go home.’

Well, she’d done it now, she thought, seeing his eyes narrow. He was going to want to know why she was in such a state, but to her amazement he didn’t say anything. Not when he tucked his arm under hers and created a pathway for them towards the door. Not even when they travelled down together in the elevator or walked out of the hospital.

‘I’m sorry for shouting at you,’ she said with difficulty when they reached his car. ‘It was wrong of me, and I apologise.’

‘Nell, you don’t need to apologise to me,’ he said. ‘I obviously said something that upset you.’

‘You didn’t. Honestly, you didn’t.’ Tell him. Tell him what’s happened. But she couldn’t. ‘Can we go now?’ she said instead, and after a moment’s hesitation he nodded.

To her relief they drove in silence to her flat, but from the sidelong glances he kept giving her she knew it was only a temporary respite and, sure enough, when he drew his car to a halt, and she reached for the passenger door, he put out his hand to stay her.

‘Can I come in?’ he said. ‘Just for a minute?’

Part of her wanted to say no, that she was tired, that she didn’t want to answer the questions she knew he was going to ask, but the other part also knew she didn’t want be alone in her flat, surrounded by memories of Brian. She didn’t want to spend the rest of the night wondering how she’d screwed up, why he’d found somebody else when he’d said-he’d sworn-he loved her, and so she nodded.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ she said after she’d unlocked her front door and ushered Jonah into her sitting room. ‘I’ve tea, coffee, or there’s a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge.’

‘A coffee would be good.’

He could have whatever he wanted just as long as he didn’t go, she thought as she went into her kitchen, switched on the percolator, then opened the fridge.

‘Are you sure about the coffee?’ she said, carrying one of the bottles of wine into the sitting room. ‘It won’t take a minute but I thought I’d try some of this. It’s supposed to be very good.’

Leastways, Brian had said it was when he bought it, and as he was never going to drink it now…

‘I’ll stick with coffee as I’m driving,’ he said, but as he watched her open the wine and pour herself a liberal glassful, a frown pleated his forehead. ‘Nell, I’ve known you for two years and this isn’t like you. Something’s clearly upset you and I want to know what it is.’

He wanted to know what it was. Fine, she would give him part of it.

‘My hair…’ She reached up and touched her short, straight bob self-consciously. ‘Jonah, the blonde highlights are fake.’

‘And very nice they look, too,’ he said with a smile as he sat down on the sofa.

‘Jonah, did you hear what I said?’ she said in exasperation. ‘My natural hair colour is brown. Plain, ordinary, mousy brown. The blonde highlights are fake.’

The frown on his forehead reappeared. ‘And what’s that got to do with anything? My sisters change their hair colour so frequently I have to ask them for an update before they visit otherwise I’d never recognise them.’

‘There’s more,’ she said, downing her wine in one gulp. ‘I was thirty-two last month, Jonah. Thirty-two.’

He looked even more puzzled. ‘And I’ll be thirty-six next February. So what?’

‘It doesn’t matter for you,’ she said, sitting down in the armchair opposite him and topping up her glass. ‘You’re a man. No matter how old and wrinkly you get, everyone will simply say you’re mature. I’m a woman and people are soon going to be calling me an old bat.’

He smothered a laugh. ‘Nell, I hardly think being thirty-two makes you an old ba—’

‘Jonah, I’m a thirty-two-year-old, fat, five-foot-nine inch female with dyed hair and boring grey eyes.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he protested. ‘Your hair is lovely, your eyes are beautiful, and you’re not fat. You’re statuesque, curvy.’

‘I’m fat, Jonah,’ she interrupted, ‘and do you want to know something? I hate the way I look. I want to be a size six instead of a size sixteen. I keep going on diets, but…’ she waved her hand expansively, sending part of the wine in her glass sloshing onto the carpet ‘…they don’t work, and you know why they don’t work? Because I cheat. I end up so damned hungry I cheat.’

‘Nell, there is nothing wrong with the way you look,’ Jonah declared. ‘You’re fine just as you are.’

Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed them back. ‘You’re a good friend, Jonah, a good mate. Are you sure you don’t want some of this wine? It really is very good.’

‘You obviously think it is,’ he said dryly as he watched her empty her glass, ‘but I’m driving, remember? Look, why don’t you phone Brian? I know he’s going to be back in six months, but you’re obviously missing him.’

‘He’s not coming back.’ There, she’d finally said it, and now she had his full attention.

‘You mean he’s staying in the States?’ he said slowly. ‘You’re going out there to join him?’

‘No, I’m not going out there to join him. He…he’s found somebody else. This…’ She stared down at her engagement ring for a second, then pulled it off and put it down on the coffee-table. ‘I shouldn’t be wearing this because he doesn’t want to marry me any more. He wants to marry somebody called Candy, and I…I…’

She couldn’t say any more, and Jonah looked hard at her as she reached for the bottle of wine again.

‘I think you’ve had enough of that.’

‘It beats slashing my wrists,’ she said, striving to sound flippant, but Jonah didn’t seem to find it amusing.

He got to his feet, pulled the wine bottle out of her hand and set it down on the coffee-table beside her engagement ring with a clatter.

‘Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,’ he said, his eyes icy. ‘Not even as a joke. OK, so Brian has found somebody else, but these things happen. Relationships fail—’

‘And I just have to pick myself up and start all over again,’ she finished for him tartly. ‘Well, that’s just dandy, Jonah. That’s just swell, and I’m sure in a few months’ time I’ll be able to think like that, but right now I can’t, OK?’

‘So you’re going to drink yourself into a stupor for the next few months,’ he said as she reached for the bottle again.

‘Sounds good to me,’ she said, and under Jonah’s disapproving gaze she defiantly poured herself another glass and gulped it down.

Actually, she could see now why people got drunk. Your vision became a little blurry, and your head might not feel as though it was completely connected to your body, but it warmed you, relaxed you. In fact, she was so relaxed that Jonah’s disapproval suddenly seemed funny and she started to giggle.

‘Nell, you’ve definitely had enough to drink!’ he exclaimed, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, lighten up, Jonah,’ she said, leaning back in her seat and missing the arm of the chair by a mile.

‘Nell.’

She sighed. ‘All right, all right. If you’re going to be boring, I’ll get us both coffee.’

And she fully intended to do just that, but when she stood up a rush of blood suddenly sped from her legs to her head and before she knew what was happening she’d pitched forward onto the carpet, missing the coffee-table by inches.

‘Nell, are you all right?’

Jonah’s voice was anxious, tense, and she rolled over onto her back and stared fuzzily up at him.

‘Of course I’m all right. Except what are you doing up there while I’m down here?’

He shook his head. ‘I think it’s time you were in bed,’ he said, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘Ooh, Jonah, that’s the best offer I’ve had in ages.’

With a sigh he reached to help her up, and she waited for him to put his back out when he tried to lift her, but he didn’t. Never before had she felt small and fragile, but somehow Jonah managed to make her feel both as he lifted her effortlessly up into his arms.

‘My hero.’ She hiccuped as he carried her out of the sitting room. ‘Superman in a white coat. Where are you taking me, Mr Superman?’

‘To your bedroom, if I knew where it was,’ he said.

‘Second door on the right,’ she replied, waving an unsteady hand down the hall. ‘You know, you have lovely hair, Jonah,’ she added, nuzzling her nose into the side of his neck. ‘I never realised you had such lovely hair. Soft, silky. Smells nice, too.’

‘Don’t do that, Nell.’

His voice sounded strained, constricted, and she tickled the hair at the nape of his neck with her fingers and giggled.

‘Why not? It’s nice. You’re nice.’ He muttered something she didn’t catch, and she planted a kiss at the base of his throat, only to feel him jerk his head away. ‘You’re my knight in shining armour, Jonah. My true-blue, always-there knight in shining armour.’

A knight in shining armour who was going to leave, she suddenly realised when they reached her bedroom and Jonah gently began to lower her onto her bed. But she didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to lie there all alone, remembering she’d been dumped. She wanted to feel desired, attractive, and before she could rationalise her thoughts, or Jonah could straighten up, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

‘Nell, what the…?’

‘Stay, Jonah,’ she whispered. ‘Stay with me.’

He shook his head, his face unreadable. ‘Nell, you don’t know what you’re saying.’

‘I do,’ she insisted. ‘I do. Don’t go. I don’t want you to go.’ And as he opened his mouth, clearly intending to protest, her lips met his and silenced him.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS the insistent ringing of her alarm clock that woke Nell with a start. A ringing that went straight through her skull with all the force of a dentist’s drill.

Gingerly, she tried to sit up, only to lie down again swiftly with a groan as the contents of her stomach lurched up into her throat. She’d never been a drinker and now she remembered why. Two glasses of wine were her limit and she couldn’t begin to count how many she’d had last night. Too many, if her throbbing head and churning stomach were anything to go by.

With an effort she turned on her side, and froze. Two aspirins and a glass of water were sitting on her bedside cabinet. Two aspirins and a glass of water she knew she hadn’t put there yesterday.

Jonah.

‘Oh, God, tell me I didn’t,’ she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as memories of last night began creeping into her mind. ‘Tell me what I’m thinking happened didn’t happen, and it was just a bad dream.’

But it wasn’t. When she lifted her duvet she could see she was still wearing her bra and knickers. At least it was her halfway decent bra and knickers, as opposed to some of her threadbare and tatty underwear, but that didn’t alter the fact that she was still wearing them. That Jonah had taken one look at her all too curvaceous curves and decided he wasn’t interested.

A sob rose in her throat and she put her hand to her mouth to quell it. If there was one thing more humiliating than waking up after a drunken one-night stand, it was waking up to remember that the man you’d thrown yourself at had rejected you.

And she had thrown herself at him. Her brain might be fuzzy but it wasn’t fuzzy enough for her to forget that it had been she who had dragged Jonah down on top of her when he’d lowered her onto her bed. She who had pulled off her shirt and trousers despite his best efforts to prevent her, and she who had kept repeating, ‘Make love to me, Jonah. I want you to make love to me,’ before she’d passed out.

Oh, God.

On the Richter scale of embarrassment it was worse than coming out of the loo not realising you’d tucked your skirt into your knickers. Worse even than asking the man you’d been dating for a while whether your relationship had moved into commitment and realising from the stunned look on his face that it hadn’t.

How was she ever going to be able to face him? For two years they’d been such good friends. They’d laughed together, commiserated with each other, and once she’d even cried on his shoulder after a really bad day, but now…In the space of twenty-four hours she’d not only been dumped by her fiancé she’d also made a complete and utter fool of herself with the one man who had always been there for her in the good times and the bad.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily. She’d got herself into this mess, and somehow she had to get herself out of it.

‘I was drunk, Jonah, and didn’t know what I was doing,’ she said out loud, then shook her head, wincing as she did so.

That was insulting. So insulting.

‘Brian had dumped me, and I needed to feel wanted, and I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, so I…’

Worse, that was worse. Neither his pride nor their friendship would survive that amount of honesty.

Somehow she had to come up with a convincing explanation for her behaviour, but what?

Right, Nell thought, taking a deep breath as the elevator doors opened onto the fourth floor of the Belfield Infirmary. It’s plan A. You don’t refer to last night and Jonah will think you don’t remember it, and because he’s a gentleman he won’t remind you. End of story.

It sounded good. Sort of. At least it was better than plan B.

‘Hey, what happened to you last night?’ Fiona called as Nell tried to sneak past her office. ‘One minute you were in the function suite with Liz and me, and the next you were gone.’

‘I was feeling a bit rough so I decided to go home,’ Nell muttered, and Fiona frowned at her.

‘You still don’t look very great,’ she observed, ‘but it was a terrific party, wasn’t it?’

‘The best.’ Nell lied, feeling the dentist’s drill inside her head beginning to intensify. ‘Is…is Jonah in?’

‘Arrived about half an hour ago. Full of beans, too.’

Full of beans.

Did that mean he was laughing at her, laughing at what she’d done? No, of course Jonah wouldn’t laugh. He wasn’t the type. Or at least she didn’t think he was.

‘He left a message for you,’ Fiona continued. ‘Said he’d like a word some time today.’

That didn’t sound good.

‘Did he say what he wanted to talk about?’ Nell asked, determinedly casual, and Fiona shook her head.

‘Maybe he’s still worried about Tommy Moffat.’

That sounded better. Well, not better for little Tommy, but definitely better for her.

‘Jonah’s in Intensive at the moment if you want to see him before you start your shift,’ Fiona continued helpfully, and Nell managed a weak smile.

She didn’t want to see Jonah. She wanted a couple of mugs of black, unsweetened coffee before she went anywhere near the specialist registrar or the unit, but she’d no sooner reached her office than Bea appeared.

‘One newbie admitted at three o’clock,’ the ward sister said, holding out the night staff’s notes to her. ‘Katie Kelly, ten and a half weeks premature, mum and dad’s names are Tricia and Rob.’

‘Anything else?’ Nell asked, gazing longingly at the jar of coffee on her desk and knowing she had as much chance of grabbing a cup as she had of suddenly changing into a five foot nothing, size six film star.

‘Tommy Moffat. Jonah said his BP was all over the place last night.’

Nell’s hand faltered as she reached for her uniform. ‘Jonah was in the unit last night?’

‘He said he had nothing better to do so he thought he’d pop in.’

Oh, ouch, there was only so much honesty a woman wanted to hear, even if it came secondhand.

‘Increase the frequency of Tommy’s obs,’ Nell said with difficulty. ‘If his BP keeps on fluctuating, let me know immediately.’

Bea nodded. ‘Are we still transferring Chloe Wilson and Winston Turner from Special to Transitional today?’

‘Both have been breathing without their ventilators for the past month, and they’re also feeding well with no reflux action so—’

‘They’re almost ready to go home.’ Bea smiled. ‘Don’t you just love being able to tell parents that? It’s what makes working in the NICU so worthwhile.’

It was. Nell knew that some nurses, and quite a few doctors, found the unit unnerving but she had always loved her work. The challenge of keeping the tiny preemies alive, the relief when they started to grow, the joy when they finally left the unit to go home with their parents. Of course, it wasn’ t always like that. There were dark days, grim days, when one of their tiny charges lost their hold on life, but she had never wanted to work anywhere else.

Except today, she realised, after she’d changed into her uniform and Bea led the way into the intensive care section of the unit and she saw Jonah deep in conversation with Callum Nicolson’s mother.

‘Viv’s a bit upset because she still hasn’t been able to express any milk to feed her son,’ Bea murmured as they saw Jonah put his arm around Mrs Nicolson and give her a hug, ‘but he’s good in these situations, isn’t he?’

He was. A lot of doctors possessed the necessary skills to make them proficient neonatologists, but to be a really good one you needed to be able to put yourself into other people’s shoes, to empathise with them, and Jonah could do that with his eyes shut. He was also unexpectedly good at fending off the advances of drunken women, but Nell didn’t want to think about that right now.

‘Is that Rob and Tricia Kelly?’ she asked, seeing a couple she didn’t know standing awkwardly by one of the incubators.

Bea nodded. ‘Jonah’s explained we’re going to have to take it one day at a time, but I think they’re still a bit shell-shocked.’

Nell would have been shell-shocked, too, if one minute she and her husband had been happily asleep in bed and the next she’d gone into labour ten and a half weeks prematurely.

‘This place—it’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?’ Rob said, when Nell walked over to the couple to introduce herself

‘There’s nothing to be frightened of, truly, there isn’t,’ Nell said. ‘Your daughter’s really just in a kind of mini-greenhouse, which will keep her warm and cosy until she’s well enough to cope with the outside world.’

‘But all those wires, all those tubes,’ Tricia said, twisting her dressing-gown belt round in her fingers, her voice uneven. ‘It looks so painful.’

‘Katie needs help with her breathing and feeding, Tricia,’ Nell said gently. ‘We also need to keep an eye on her heart rate and blood pressure. Do you see the monitor up there?’ she continued, pointing to the screen above the incubator. ‘All of Katie’s wires and tubes are linked to it so we can see at a glance how she’s doing.’

She could also see that Jonah was still talking to Callum Nicolson’s mother. Was it her imagination or was he avoiding looking in her direction? No, he was looking at her. Actually, he was staring at her. Probably thinking, Streuth, but that uniform sure hides a multitude of sins.

Stop it, she told herself, just stop it. It’s plan A, remember? You don’t remember last night. Just keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll start to believe it.

‘Sister?’

Tricia Kelly was gazing at her, her eyes very bright, and to Nell’s horror she realised the woman had obviously just asked her something, but she didn’t have a clue what it was. Lord, but now she wasn’t just a drunken slut, she was also completely unprofessional as well.

‘I’m sorry, Tricia,’ she said, her cheeks darkening. ‘I didn’t quite catch…?’

‘I just said I wish I could hold her,’ Tricia replied. ‘If I could hold her, I’d feel…I’d feel she was more mine.’

‘You’ll be able to hold her in a few days,’ Nell said, pulling herself together quickly. ‘At the moment we just want to ensure she’s stabilised, plus—’

‘Plus it can be quite stressful for babies to be touched if they’ve never been held before,’ Jonah chipped in as he joined them. ‘Which, of course, they haven’t because they’ve been safely cocooned in their mumies’ tummies.’

Tricia managed a smile. ‘But won’t I dislodge all those tubes and wires when I’m allowed to hold her?’

Jonah shook his head. ‘They’re all firmly attached and in a few days you won’t even notice them. You’ll be holding and kissing your daughter without a second’s thought.’

He’d kissed her last night, Nell remembered. Or rather, she’d kissed him. Just the once and then he’d wrenched his head away, muttering something unprintable under his breath. It had been a nice kiss, though. Actually, it had been more than nice. It had been…

Unconsciously she shook her head. Booze really screwed up your reasoning powers because, just for a moment when she’d kissed him, she’d felt really odd. Sort of tingly, expectant, almost—

‘Nell?’

Oh, damnation. Now Jonah had obviously asked her something and she didn’t know what that was either. She really was going to have to pull herself together or it wouldn’t be just last night she’d have to worry about. It would be whether she still had a job.

‘It’s Viv Nicolson,’ Jonah murmured, stepping out of earshot of the Kellys. ‘She’s having real problems with the breast pump. I’ve told her the milk will come, but…’ his brown eyes crinkled ‘…I’m at a bit of a disadvantage with not possessing any of the necessary equipment myself, so I wondered if you could have a word, woman to woman.’

‘You know, some people might consider that a very sexist remark,’ she replied, trying and failing to prevent her lips from curving, and he laughed.

‘Guilty as charged, but in this case it’s true.’

‘Yes, but just because I have breasts doesn’t mean I automatically know how to use a breast pump,’ she began, only to immediately wish she hadn’t. Talking about breasts to a man who had seen a lot of hers than he’d probably ever wanted to was not a good idea. ‘I mean…I can try…I’ll do my best.’

And before he could say anything else, she shot off in Viv Nicolson’s direction, determined to lose herself in her work.

It didn’ t help. Nothing helped as the day dragged by. No matter what she did, whether it was trying to reassure Viv that even if she never mastered the breast pump it didn’t matter because formula milk was just as good, or supervising the transfer of Chloe Wilson and Winston Turner to Transitional Care, she knew her mind was only half on her job. One glimpse of Jonah was enough to make her heart slide down into her stomach, and every time he spoke to her she knew she was analysing what he said, looking for hidden references, subtle innuendos.

She was going to go mad if she tried to stick to plan A. It would have to be plan B. Plan B which involved coming clean and apologizing, no matter how toe-curlingly embarrassing it was.

‘Yikes, but you look even worse now than you did when you first came in this morning,’ Fiona observed, when Nell handed her the notes for the night staff. ‘If I were you, I’d go straight home and have an early night.’

‘I fully intend to,’ Nell replied. ‘I just want a quick word with Jonah. Is he about?’

‘He was in his consulting room a few minutes ago, but I’m not sure where he is now.’ The secretary stared at Nell critically. ‘You know, you could be coming down with flu. Liz Fenton was telling me last night—’

‘Got to go, Fiona,’ Nell interrupted, before the secretary could launch into a long and involved saga on who in the nursing staff was currently laid low with what.

Get it over with, she told herself as she headed off down the corridor. Grovel profusely, and get it over with—but not right away, she realised with dismay as she rounded the corner and saw her least favourite member of staff walking towards her.

‘And where are you hurrying off to at such speed, not so little Nell?’ Lawrence Summers, the consultant from Men’s Surgical, said with one of his aren’t-I-wonderful smiles. ‘Not so little Nell, as opposed to the little Nell,’ he added. ‘Get it?’

‘Very amusing, sir,’ she muttered. ‘And now if you’ll excuse me,’ she continued, but he moved faster than she did and blocked her path.

‘It’s Lawrence, Nell, as I keep telling you,’ he said. ‘Not sir, or Mr Summers, but Lawrence. And what’s your hurry? Stay a while, talk to me.’

Yeah, right, she thought. The only reason you want to talk to me is so you can ogle my breasts. So, maybe she was more than generously endowed, but every time she met the consultant it was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation to wrench up his chin and say, ‘Look, I’m more than just a pair of breasts, just as I’m sure you’re more than what you’ve got in your trousers.’

Except she wasn’t one hundred per cent certain that Lawrence actually was more than what he had in his trousers.

Brian had loathed him.

‘Flash beggar,’ he’d said one evening when they’d been having dinner. ‘Getting by on his good looks and so-called charm. I’ve worked with him in Theatre, Nell, and, believe me, he’s all show and no substance. One day he’ll come a cropper.’

Nell didn’t know whether the consultant would or not, but she did know she didn’t want to be ogled by him.

‘I’m afraid I have to go, Mr Summers,’ she said firmly, but before she could push past him he had caught her hand.

‘When are you going to go out with me, Nell?’

When hell freezes over, Lawrence. ‘I’m an engaged woman, sir.’

‘An engaged woman who isn’t wearing her engagement ring,’ he said, lifting her hand into the light and regarding it thoughtfully.

Oh, damn and blast. She’d forgotten to put it back on again after last night, and though she knew she’d have to eventually tell everyone about her broken engagement, Lawrence was the last person on that particular list.

‘It’s in the jeweller’s, she said quickly. ‘I…I noticed one of the stones was loose this morning so I left it with the jeweller to be on the safe side.’

One of Lawrence’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why do I have the feeling you’re lying?’

‘Perhaps because you have an overly suspicious nature?’ Jonah said as he came out of his consulting room. He glanced from Lawrence to Nell, then back again. ‘You also appear to be manhandling a member of my staff.’

His voice was even but Nell could hear the hint of steel beneath it, and so, apparently, could Lawrence because he released her hand immediately.

‘No offence meant, Nell,’ he said. She knew he expected her to reply, ‘None taken,’ but she would have cut out her own tongue than say it.

‘So, what brings you up from the rarefied atmosphere of Men’s Surgical, Lawrence?’ Jonah asked, and the consultant smiled.

‘Haematology tell me you’ve been complaining about the length of time you’re having to wait before they test any samples you send down, and I thought I should point out to you, as one member of staff to another, that we all have to follow a certain protocol.’

‘The protocol being that Men’s Surgical samples should always be tested first, and the rest of us have to wait in line,’ Jonah said, with a smile every bit as false as Lawrence Summers’s. ‘I don’t think so, Lawrence.’

‘Then perhaps I should also point out that you’re only an acting consultant,’ Lawrence continued, his smile completely gone now, ‘and therefore have no real authority to insist on anything.’

‘Feel free to point out whatever you like, Lawrence,’ Jonah said smoothly, ‘but it won’t get you anywhere.’

The two men stared at one another, and Nell held her breath. Only yesterday she’d told Jonah he was as soft as butter, but this was a Jonah she didn’t know. A Jonah she wouldn’t want to mess with. Lawrence clearly thought the same.

‘Fair enough, Jonah,’ he said, his smile back in place on his handsome face. ‘I just thought I’d mention it.’

‘I’m glad you did,’ Jonah replied. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse us?’ he added pointedly, which left Lawrence with nothing to do but leave.

‘Thanks for rescuing me,’ Nell said as she followed Jonah into his consulting room. ‘That man is such a creep.’

‘Lawrence Summers is a creep?’ Jonah said in surprise. ‘I thought he was God’s gift to women?’

‘In his dreams,’ Nell retorted. ‘He may look like a Greek god but anyone who’s ever been out with him says he’s got arms like an octopus and a kiss like a bathroom plunger.’

Jonah let out a splutter of laughter. ‘That’s an image that’s going to stay with me for a very long time. Now, what can I do for you?’

‘Do for me?’ she said, momentarily confused, and his eyes crinkled.

‘Well, as you were clearly headed for my room before you were waylaid by the dreaded Lawrence, I assume you wanted to speak to me.’

She did, but now she was here…

Say it, she told herself. The longer she didn’t say it, the harder it was going to be. Which was true, but it didn’t make the prospect of raising the subject of last night any easier.

‘Jonah—’ She came to a halt as his phone rang.

‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ he said, lifting the phone, only to roll his eyes in exasperation at whatever the person at the other end of the phone was saying. ‘No, I do not want the results tomorrow,’ he told the unknown caller. ‘I want them today. They were promised for today, and this is today, so where are they?’

He winked across at her, and she tried to smile back, but as she stood uncertainly in front of his desk, words crept into her mind. Words that made her cheeks heat up, and her resolve falter.

You have such lovely hair, Jonah. Soft, silky. Smells nice, too.

Oh, criminy, had she really said that? Maybe she should forget all about plan B and go back to plan A.

‘Would you believe that Haematology still haven’t processed Donna Harrison’s blood tests?’ Jonah said when he’d put down the phone. ‘I told them I need to be sure her jaundice has completely gone before we can discharge her.’ He dragged his fingers through his hair then smiled a little ruefully. ‘Enough with the complaining. What can I do for you?’

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re clearly busy, and it’s not important.’

‘It obviously is, otherwise you wouldn’t be standing there looking like you’ve got your knickers in a twist.’

Knickers. He’d seen her knickers and they weren’t frilly or pretty but the sort of serviceable, practical kind his mother probably wore.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop thinking about your knickers, her mind urged. Just say it because if you don’t you’ll only have to try again tomorrow and that will be even worse.

‘It’s…it’s about what happened last night, Jonah,’ she said, and his eyes met hers.

‘Nothing happened last night, Nell.’

‘I know nothing happened in the sense of…of happened,’ she said, wishing she was anywhere but there, and doing anything but having this conversation, ‘but that’s only because…because you were too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation.’ Or took one look at me and thought, ye gods, but I hadn’t realised she was quite that fat.

‘That’s true,’ he said solemnly, then one corner of his mouth lifted. ‘Plus I have this rather old-fashioned notion that if I make love to a woman, I rather prefer her to be able to remember it afterwards.’

‘Oh. Right.’ She could feel a blush creeping all the way up from her toes. ‘Jonah.’

‘Look, you were unhappy last night, and very drunk,’ he continued. ‘Nothing happened you need be embarrassed about.’

Oh, yes, it had.

‘And as far as I’m concerned, the subject is over, forgotten. My only regret is that Brian isn’t standing in front of me right now. He’s behaved very badly, and if he were here I’d take the greatest pleasure in inflicting some serious damage on him.’

‘You would?’ she said in surprise, and he shook his head as though amazed she should doubt it.

‘Nell, we’re friends, and I won’t allow anyone to make a friend of mine unhappy.’

Tears rose in her throat and she gulped them back with difficulty. ‘You’re the best, Jonah. You know that, don’t you?’

‘I think the words you used last night were “my hero”, “Mr Superman” and “my knight in shining armour”.’

Crimson colour seeped across her cheeks and she gave an unsteady laugh. ‘I thought you said you’d forgotten all about last night?’

He grinned. ‘I have, but I kind of liked those descriptions so, if you don’t mind, I’d like to remember them.’

She tried to keep her smile in place, but it wobbled around the edges, and he got to his feet and clasped her hands in his own large ones.

‘Brian’s an idiot,’ he said softly. ‘This Candy, you’re worth two of her.’

‘I bet I weigh two of her as well,’ she said miserably, and he tilted her chin with his finger.

‘Enough of that. Nell, listen to me—’

‘Jonah, I’ve been thinking about Brian…what’s happened…It’s partly my fault, isn’t it?’

‘Your fault?’ he repeated. ‘How the hell can it be your fault?’

‘I should have gone to the States with him. I know he said there was no point in me going with him as it was only for a year, but Brian likes company, and I think he was lonely, living in a city he doesn’t know. And this Candy…she’s been there, somebody for him to talk to, and before he realised what was happening, she grabbed him.’

‘Bu—’

‘It makes sense, doesn’t it?’ she said. ‘And, if I’m right, there’s still a chance he’ll realise he’s made a mistake and come back to me, isn’t there?’

Her grey eyes were large and dark as she stared up at him, and it took all of Jonah’s self-control not to shake her.

How could she be so trusting, so gullible, so damned stupid? he wondered. Brian was, and always had been, an arrogant, conceited jerk. In fact, Jonah had been more surprised that the anaesthetist had stayed faithful to Nell for as long as he had than the news that he’d dumped her.

Then tell her so, his mind urged, but, having grown up with five sisters, Jonah knew only too well that the last thing a woman wanted to hear on an occasion like this was the truth.

‘I suppose it’s possible,’ he said vaguely, and felt his heart twist inside him when a blinding smile illuminated Nell’s face. A smile he knew wasn’t meant for him but for Brian.

Lord, but he wanted her. He always had, but when he’d first come to the Belfield he’d still been getting over a disastrous relationship that had left both his heart and his ego badly bruised. He’d decided to take it slowly, not to make the same mistake again, only to watch with dismay as Nell had fallen in love with Brian Weston. Once the engagement ring was on her finger she’d been off limits as far as he was concerned, but now…

‘Nell—’

‘I was wondering whether I ought to fly out to the States,’ she interrupted. ‘Talk to him?’

‘Absolutely not,’ he said firmly. In fact, over my dead body. ‘You’re both too raw emotionally at the moment, and I’m also going to have to be rather selfish here…’ And to lie through my teeth if necessary. ‘…and point out that with Gabriel away on his honeymoon, the unit really couldn’t manage if another member of staff went on leave.’

‘No, of course not.’ She sighed, then smiled awkwardly. ‘I’m just sorry I made such a complete fool of myself last night, embarrassing you the way I did.’

‘You didn’t embarrass me,’ he declared, and she hadn’t.

When he’d seen her in all her lush, creamy glory, felt her breasts straining against him as she’d lain beneath him, it hadn’t been embarrassment he’d felt, it had been desire. A burning, overwhelming desire, and only the knowledge that she had been drunk had prevented him from tearing off the remainder of her clothes and burying himself deep inside her.

‘Like I said, it’s forgotten,’ he said lightly. ‘But what I don’t want is you going back to your flat every night and drinking yourself into oblivion.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m never doing that again. I thought I was dying when I woke up this morning.’

He laughed. ‘What you need is to get out of your flat in the evenings. Maybe go out for a meal with some friends, or perhaps just one particular friend.’

Like him.

‘But if Brian heard I was going out, he might think I didn’t love him any more,’ she protested.

Good, Jonah thought, because for the past two years I’ve been calling you ‘good old Nell’ in an attempt to desexualise you, but now your engagement is off I’m going to do whatever it takes to win you.

‘Or it could bring him to his senses, make him fly over here.’ He lied.

‘I suppose,’ she said, clearly unconvinced, then her eyes filled with tears. ‘I want him back, Jonah. I just want him back.’

And I want you, he thought, but he had no illusions about himself. He was too big, too ordinary, to be any woman’s idea of a wonderful catch, but if he let Nell’ s wounds heal for a couple of months, gave her time to realise and accept that Brian wasn’t coming back, then maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance.

‘Jonah?’

She was staring at him uncertainly and he realised he was frowning and quickly smoothed out his face.

‘It’s time you went home,’ he said. ‘You look exhausted.’

She felt it, but to go home to her empty flat…

‘I thought I might stay on for a while, catch up on some paperwork.’

‘Go home, Nell, and that’s an order,’ he said, and she gazed up at him quizzically.

‘An order?’ she said, and he smiled.

‘I can be very determined when I want to be, Nell.’

Unexpectedly so, she thought with wry amusement as he steered her out of his consulting room towards the elevators but, then again, perhaps not. She’d always suspected there were parts of Jonah she didn’t know. Parts he kept well hidden.

She knew he was a terrific friend. She also knew he was hopeless with women. Three months was the longest she’d ever known him date anybody and it wasn’t because he was a serial flirt. His relationships just seemed to peter out with no hard feelings on either side.

Maybe she should try that, she thought when she got home and a hard lump formed in her throat when she saw so many of Brian’s belongings lying where he’d left them. Dating just for fun and then moving on without regret. But how could she move on when it was still Brian she wanted?

A tear trickled down her cheek and desperately she picked up the magazine she’d bought in the newsagent’s on the way home and flicked through it, only to stop when her eyes fell on the title of an article: Tired of always being dumped by your boyfriends? Then stop being reactive!

‘And what the heck’s reactive?’ she muttered aloud, kicking off her shoes, curling up on the sofa and reading on. ‘“Proactive people make things happen. Reactive people sit back and let things happen to them.”’

Well, that was her in a nutshell. A reactive wimp, a reactive doormat. Somehow she had to become a proactive person, but how? Fiona had said last night that the girl from Radiology needed to show her ex-boyfriend she didn’t care. Even Jonah had said Brian might come back if he heard she was going out, enjoying herself.

She sat up straighter on the sofa. What if she started dating again, even just for a couple of dates? Brian had lots of friends at the Belfield and one of them would be sure to email or phone him. If he heard she was dating again, it might remind him of what they’d shared, make him jealous, get him to fly back to Glasgow. And once he was here, who knew what might happen?

Yeah, right, she thought, her optimism subsiding, and just who was she going to date? The Belfield isn’t exactly chock-a-block with single, fanciable men, plus you’d have to explain to this man that the dates weren’t real, only a means to an end.

Jonah. Jonah would do it in a minute, but Brian would never be jealous of Jonah.

‘He’s a nice enough bloke, Nell,’ Brian had said once, ‘but he’s never going to amount to anything, is he?’

It had been the one and only time they’d had a row, but having a row about Jonah wasn’t enough. She’d have to date someone he could see as a rival. Somebody handsome. Somebody who would get right under his skin. Somebody like….

Lawrence Summers.

The consultant was always asking her out, and she wouldn’ t have to tell him why she was suddenly saying yes after months of saying no because he had a hide like a rhinoceros. Admittedly, he was a groper and a creep, but she could handle him, she knew she could.

A triumphant smile curved her lips. Lawrence Summers. Lawrence Summers would be perfect.

CHAPTER THREE

‘IT’S not that I’m hurt, or offended, or anything,’ Fiona said, the tightness around her mouth indicating she most certainly was, ‘but to hear your engagement was off from someone like Lawrence Summers…’

Nell gritted her teeth. It had taken just fourteen hours for the blabbermouth consultant to ensure that the rumour had spread right around the hospital. If she hadn’t needed him for a date she would have marched straight down to Men’s Surgical and kicked him smack in the middle of his ego.

‘My engagement isn’t off, Fiona,’ she replied as calmly as she could. Well, it wouldn’t be off if her plan worked, and she was going to do her damnedest to make sure that it did work. ‘Brian and I have simply decided we need a little breathing space, that’s all.’

Disbelief was written all over Fiona’s face, and it had been the same with everyone Nell had met that morning. From the porters in Reception to the clutch of nurses who had all but hijacked her on her way up in the elevator, everyone had looked at her with either a ‘Brian’s a sleaze ball and you’re well out of it’ expression or a barely disguised and infuriatingly smug ‘Well, I knew it would never last’ one.

‘Fiona—’

‘I’m a bit busy at the moment, Nell,’ the secretary interrupted. ‘So, if you’ll excuse me…’

Terrific, just terrific, Nell thought as Fiona stomped into her office and slammed the door. She’d known that she couldn’t keep her broken engagement a secret for ever, but she’d at least hoped for a little longer than forty-eight hours to get her emotions under control, and now Fiona was in a huff because she hadn’t confided in her first.

‘Adam Thornton had to be transferred from Special into Intensive last night,’ Bea said when Nell reached her own office. ‘He developed serious breathing problems just after midnight.’

‘How many breaths a minute?’ Nell asked, pulling on her uniform.

‘More than sixty. I was wondering about transient tachypnoea of the newborn but he’s more than forty-eight hours old now so it’s not likely, is it?’

Nell shook her head. ‘I would have said RSD but, like transient tachypnoea, respiratory disease syndrome usually affects preemies, not full-termers. Pneumonia perhaps, or a blood infection?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Bea said, and Nell shook her head wryly.

‘You’d better not let any of the parents of our babies hear you saying that.’ She clipped her name tag to her collar and slipped a stethoscope into her pocket. ‘How’s Tommy this morning?’

‘His temperature went up a little during the night, but it’s back to normal again this morning, and Katie Kelly had a very good night.’

‘Great,’ Nell said with relief, and Bea nodded, then gazed at her a little uncertainly.

‘I know it’s none of my business but I just want to say how very sorry I was to hear about your engagement. I’m not going to say anything else,’ the ward sister continued as Nell tried to interrupt, ‘except I think he’s a rat for treating you like this.’

Why am I the only one to see that Brian isn’t a rat, that he’d simply got lonely? Nell wondered. OK, Jonah could see it, but one person amongst the four hundred staff at the Belfield was scarcely an overwhelming show of support.

Well, she would show them, she told herself as she strode down the corridor and into Intensive Care. She would make each and every one of them eat their sympathetic words.

‘I hear this little one has a problem,’ she said, as she joined Jonah at Adam Thornton’s incubator.

‘It’s an odd one,’ he replied. ‘All his symptoms point to RDS, the fast and hard breaths, his skin and muscles pulling in each time he takes a breath, but he’s a full-term baby not a preemie.’

‘Could his mother have got her due date wrong?’ Nell suggested. ‘He was quite small at birth, just two and a half kilos, so perhaps he was actually born four to six weeks premature and nobody realised it.’

‘It’s certainly possible,’ Jonah observed, ‘and prematurity would mean he’d have the immature lungs conducive to RDS. Set up a chest X-ray for him, and give him artificial surfactant through his breathing tube. If it is RDS, the sooner we get on top of this the better.’

‘Do his parents know he’s been transferred into Intensive?’

‘They came in last night,’ Jonah said. ‘I told them there’s no immediate cause for concern, but you know what parents are like.’

She did. In fact, she’d lost count of the number of times mothers had cried their eyes out on Jonah’s shoulder.

‘Oh, and it looks like I owe you a fiver,’ Jonah continued. ‘Tommy Moffat’s repeat sample results are back from the lab, and there’s not a sign of an infection or any congenital abnormality.’

‘Does that mean I get to say “I told you so” all day?’ she said, her grey eyes sparkling, and he laughed.

‘Absolutely. I’m never happier than when I’m proved wrong about a less than optimistic prognosis.’

Nell tilted her head and regarded him quizzically. ‘Then why do I get the feeling you’re still not one hundred per cent sure you are wrong?’

Jonah looked as though he was about to deny it, then sighed. ‘Maybe I’m too emotionally involved because Tommy was the first baby to come under my care after Gabriel left on his honeymoon. Maybe I’m overcompensating because as an acting consultant I don’t want anything to go wrong. Maybe—’

‘You’re just a very conscientious specialist registrar,’ Nell finished for him. ‘Bea’s his primary carer, isn’t she? How about if I tell her to flag up if he so much as turns over in his incubator?’

‘I’d feel like I was making a mountain out of an mole hill.’

‘Yes, but would it make you happier?’ she insisted, and when, after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded, she said, ‘Then consider it done.’

‘No bet that your specialist registrar is becoming a control freak with paranoid tendencies?’ he said ruefully, and she laughed.

‘Nah. I’ve picked up a lot of things myself by going with my gut instinct, so who am I to diss yours?’

‘Speaking of gut instinct, I’d better warn you that Liz Fenton is on the loose,’ Jonah said, as he and Nell walked across the unit together towards Katie’s incubator.

‘It’s surely not time to buy tickets for the Christmas party already, is it?’ Nell said, and Jonah shook his head as he retrieved Katie’s clipboard and scanned it quickly.

‘The committee has decided to host an extra fundraising event this year because they made such a loss with the spring car treasure hunt.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Nell protested. ‘Who, in their right mind, would want to race around Glasgow in the middle of the night in March, looking for clues?’

‘I suppose it would depend on who you were with,’ Jonah said, his eyes dancing, and Nell’s heart clenched slightly.

He was right. The treasure hunt had been the last event she and Brian had taken part in before he’d left for the States, and they’d been so happy then, so very much in love.

And you will be again, her heart whispered, so enough of the moping, enough of the self-pity.

‘What kind of extra event are they putting on?’ she asked, determinedly bright.

‘An amateur talent contest.’

Nell’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘Nope. You know, Katie really is doing very well,’ he continued, replacing the clipboard. ‘Her BP’s stable, her heart rate’s good and her breathing is excellent, considering how premature she was at birth. I don’t want to be over-optimistic, but it’s looking good.’

‘And I don’t want to be over-critical,’ Nell declared, ‘but surely if the committee is going to hold a talent contest, one of the essentials is having people with some talent willing to perform.’

‘According to Liz, her husband Sandy plays all the classic symphonies on his harmonica.’

Nell pressed her lips together. ‘That should make for a fun night out.’

‘And Mr Portman is apparently more than willing to perform some magic tricks.’

‘Andrew Portman from Orthopaedics?’ she exclaimed. ‘Jonah, he gets lost between his own department and the canteen.’

‘In that case, I can’t wait for him to perform his vanishing trick.’

For a second she managed to restrain herself, but only for a second.

‘Oh, Jonah,’ she whooped. ‘I’m going to have to buy a ticket for this, if only for the unintentional comedy.’

‘If it will help to make you laugh again, I’ll insist they hold a talent contest every week,’ he said softly, and she shook her head at him.

‘Will you stop worrying about me? I’m fine, apart from the fact that the whole of the Belfield staff seems to know I’m not engaged any more.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ he said with alarm, and she put her hand on his arm and smiled.

‘I know you didn’t, but it doesn’t really matter who started the rumour because I’ve been thinking about what you said. About it being a bad idea for me to sit about moping at home, so I’ve decided—’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Bea declared as she joined them, ‘but Rob Kelly’s in your consulting room, Jonah, and he’d like a word.’

An uncharacteristic look of irritation appeared on Jonah’s face.

‘OK, Bea, but don’t think this means you’re off the hook, Nell. I want to know what you’ve decided so no leaving the hospital tonight until you’ve told me, OK?’

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