Dear Reader

We always think It’ll never happen to me—but sometimes, of course, it does. Because ‘it’ always has to happen to someone. And of all the things to happen an inherited disorder is probably one of the most insidious. From the moment of diagnosis in a family member the threat of potentially developing the condition, whatever it might be, hangs over those who are possibly afflicted with the defective gene—and the fallout of this emotional minefield can be devastating.

Ed is in this position, and the decision to have the genetic screening test and find out the result can only be his. But no man is an island, no matter how hard he might try to isolate himself from the love and concern of those around him. He’s doing OK, though, he thinks—and then he meets Annie and everything changes.

This is the story of a man who’s made some tough decisions, who’s never ducked out of his responsibilities or taken the easy route, and the woman who loves him enough to help him through the hardest step of all, whatever the outcome. I give them to you with my love. Take care of them. They’re very special to me.

Caroline

Praise for Caroline Anderson:

‘… an engrossing, enthralling and highly enjoyable tale that will move you to tears and keep you riveted … Moving, heartbreaking and absolutely fantastic,

with WEDDING OF THE YEAR

Caroline Anderson is at her mesmerising best!’ —www.cataromance.com on ST PIRAN’S: WEDDING OF THE YEAR

‘This lovely reunion romance is rich with emotion and humour, and all of the characters are exquisitely rendered.’

—RT Book Reviews on MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

Risk of a Lifetime
Caroline Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DEDICATION

For my fellow MedRom authors, an incredible support group of amazingly talented women who never fail to say the right thing or tell me what I need to know. Girls, you rock!

Recent titles by Caroline Anderson:

Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™

THE SECRET IN HIS HEART

FROM CHRISTMAS TO ETERNITY

THE FIANCÉE HE CAN’T FORGET* TEMPTED BY DR DAISY* ST PIRAN’S: THE WEDDING OF THE YEAR† THE SURGEON’S MIRACLE

*The Legendary Walker Doctors †St Piran’s Hospital

Mills & Boon® Cherish™

SNOWED IN WITH THE BILLIONAIRE

THE VALTIERI BABY

VALTIERI’S BRIDE

THE BABY SWAP MIRACLE

MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

These books are also available in eBook format from 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

‘OH, MY...’

‘What?’

Annie looked up at Kate, registered the slack jaw and widening eyes, and started to turn her head.

‘Don’t look!’ Kate hissed, dragging her eyes back to the notes.

‘Don’t look at what?’

‘Total hottie heading this way. Absolute classic TDH. He can’t possibly be our new SpR, we don’t get that lucky.’ Her eyes flicked up again briefly. ‘OMG, he is gorgeous! I think I’m in love.’

She fanned herself theatrically with the notes, and Annie chuckled. TDH? OMG? ‘You can’t possibly be in love—’

‘You wanna bet?’ Kate sneaked another peek and her voice shifted up an octave. ‘He’s coming in! And he’s got a stethoscope round his neck...!’

Annie rolled her eyes and snatched the notes from her, just as the door behind her swung open.

‘Hi. I heard the paeds trauma call. Want any help?’

Well, she had to look now. Apart from the fact that he was talking to them, that voice was—well, compelling went a short way towards describing it. Dark, molten chocolate, with a tiny kick of chilli that left a lingering warmth in its wake.

There was no way his body could match that voice. She turned her head, smile at the ready, and her breath hitched.

The voice didn’t do him justice.

Neither had Kate, but then she’d been virtually incoherent. She’d been right to a point, though. Tall, dark and handsome for sure—and, yes, completely and utterly gorgeous, if you were into that type, but she wasn’t. Not that she had a type any more, but if she did, it wouldn’t be a man like this.

At all.

Broad, lean, toned, reeking of testosterone overlaid with fresh air and sunshine, everything about him screamed trouble! His slate-blue bedroom eyes were fringed with black lashes a mile long, and that lazy stride ate up the floor as he advanced towards them.

Her first instinct was to run, but then common sense intervened. He was a doctor, apparently, possibly their new registrar, and he was offering to help, and that made him definitely her type. The mind-numbingly gorgeous packaging didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, on a day when their staffing levels were stretched to the limit, and frankly if he’d had two heads she’d welcome him with open arms. But—sheesh. Did he have to be quite so luscious?

She resisted the urge to fan herself with the notes à la Kate and found her voice from somewhere.

‘Maybe. Don’t know much about it yet. Child versus car, possible head injury, but that’s all we have as yet. ETA any second.’

She stuck out her hand to him, determined to behave like a grown-up and not a hormonal teenager, and tilted her head way back to meet his eyes. ‘I’m Annie Brooks, by the way,’ she said, proud of her voice for not coming out like a demented squeak. ‘I’m job-sharing with Andy Gallagher. And you are...?’

‘Ah. Sorry. Ed Shackleton, James Slater’s new specialist registrar,’ he confirmed, those heavily lashed eyes the colour of storm clouds meeting hers and holding them. A warm, strong hand engulfed her own as that firm, chiselled mouth tilted into a smile, and everything inside her lurched.

Her pulse spiked, and she could feel heat spreading out from her hand, all the way up her arm, settling in the region of her locked-down diaphragm like a fireball.

And she was blushing.

No. Not a blush. A flush.

Different.

Worse, the heat from the fireball was spreading upwards now, creeping up her body towards her face.

Could he see it? Please, God, no—

Breathe, Annie!

The sound of the siren penetrated the swirling fog that was her brain, and she sucked in a breath and snatched her hand back, resisting the urge to wipe it on her scrubs, as if she could wipe away her reaction to his touch.

‘Sounds like we might be in business. Are we ready?’

One look at Kate and it was clear that she was. Ready for anything their new SpR cared to throw at them—unlike her. She was blushing and flushing and generally getting in a dither. Oh, this was ridiculous...

But Kate’s sensible self was back in charge, thank goodness, and she nodded briskly. ‘We’re good to go.’

‘Right.’

The sirens screamed to a halt, leaving a shocking silence, and her brain finally snapped back to life.

‘OK, we’re on. Let’s go and find out what we’ve got.’

‘Mind if I tag along?’ he asked quietly. ‘I’m Paeds trained.’

‘Sure. Feel free. We can always use another pair of hands.’

She pushed the door out of the way, oddly desperate to escape the confines of Resus. She didn’t do this—didn’t get hot and flustered and all quivery inside.

Ever. At all. Men were firmly off her menu, now and into the hereafter. Maybe longer.

And Dr Gorgeous was definitely a man.

She took a deep breath and walked briskly out to the ambulance bay, deeply conscious of the man keeping pace by her side. The doors of the ambulance flew open, the steps flipped down and the doctor in her kicked in.

At last.

She forgot all about him, forgot everything except the sobbing child and the look of terror on the face of his mother as the paramedics who’d brought them in reeled off his stats and the treatment to date.

And as she nodded at the paramedic and smiled at the mother, she could see Ed scanning the child with his eyes, assessing him rapidly. Good. She turned her attention to the mother.

‘Hi, I’m Annie, I’m a doctor, and this is Ed. We’re going to be looking after your son. What’s his name?’

‘Cody,’ his mother said unsteadily. ‘Cody Phillips. Oh, please, help him.’

‘We will.’

The calm, confident voice came from Ed, who was leaning over the trolley as they pushed it in, looking down at the boy. Cody’s right eye was swollen shut, a blue stain under the skin of his temple and cheek, and he was sobbing, but Ed just smiled and held his hand as if it was all fine. ‘Hi, Cody, I’m Ed. It’s all right, you’re in good hands. We’ve got you, mate. We’ll soon make you feel better.’

The low, quiet voice was reassuring, and Annie felt the tension drain out of her. Kind as well as gorgeous. Now to check out his clinical skills to see if they matched up. He was certainly doing all right so far.

‘You can lead if you like,’ she said, and he nodded.

‘Will you do the FAST scan, please?’

‘Sure.’

Like a well-oiled machine, the team went into action, and gradually Annie felt herself relax.

He was good, she realised. More than that, he was very good. She stopped watching his every move, and concentrated on what she was doing.

* * *

‘Results are through.’

‘And?’

He moved up behind her, so close she could feel the warmth coming off him. She forced herself to focus on the screen.

‘Well, according to the report he’s got no obvious brain injury and there certainly doesn’t seem to be any sign of it, but he’s got a fracture of the right orbit.’

Ed was looking over her shoulder at the MRI scan images, his head just in her line of sight, and he winced. ‘Must have been quite a whack. I wonder if he’ll end up with any loss of vision. The swelling could put a lot of pressure on that eye.’ He leaned in closer, bringing him right up against her. ‘Am I imagining it, or is the orbit slightly compressed?’

She shifted sideways a fraction. ‘Possibly. What a shame. Poor little Cody.’

She turned but Ed was still right there, studying the images on the screen, his chest just inches from her nose. She sucked in a breath, but that was a mistake, because with the air came a faint trace of soap and red-blooded man.

‘Want me to talk to the parents?’ he asked, the tingle of chilli in that low, melting-chocolate voice setting fire to her nerve endings again.

‘No, I’ll do it,’ she said briskly.

She ducked past him, and he followed her back to the child’s side where Cody’s parents were waiting anxiously for the verdict, his mother’s eyes brimming with fear as she watched them approach.

It wasn’t surprising. Cody’s father had arrived shortly after the ambulance, and although they’d eliminated any other injuries in the last hour, this was the thing that was worrying them all the most and frankly this family needed some good news. Annie smiled at them reassuringly.

‘OK, we’ve had a look at the report now and although he’s got a facial fracture Cody doesn’t have an obvious brain injury, which is great news—’

‘So—he’s all right?’ his mother asked, hope replacing the fear.

‘Well, nothing obvious has been detected in his brain,’ she cautioned, ‘but that doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods yet. He’ll be a bit concussed and have a horrible headache anyway, but sometimes the brain swells after a bump like this so he’ll need constant monitoring for the next few hours just in case, but they should be able to manage it if it happens. However, the fracture extends to his eye socket where his cheekbone’s taken the impact, so he’s certainly not unscathed. It’s going to be sore and because of where it is, it might have implications for his sight.’

Her eyes widened, the fear back. A new fear this time, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth.

‘He could go blind?’ the father asked, his voice rough with emotion.

‘I think that’s unlikely, but it might alter his vision in that eye. They’ll get the ophthalmic and maxillo-facial teams to have a really good look at it while he’s in here, but it might take time for the swelling to go down before they can assess it fully. As soon as they have a bed he’ll be transferred up to the paediatric intensive care unit, PICU, for monitoring and pain relief until they’re happy with him, and then he’ll be moved to a ward. They’ll talk to you up there about his progress and what they’re going to do, if anything. He’ll probably be in here a couple of days, all being well, but so far we’re cautiously optimistic that he’ll make a full recovery. Children are very resilient.’

His mother’s shoulders slumped—with relief? Worry? Guilt?

All of it. She knew all about a mother’s guilt. She lived with it every working day, but needs must and so far the girls seemed well adjusted.

Which was more than she could say for herself at the moment. She’d just caught another whiff of Ed Shackleton’s special blend of soap and pheromones, and she had to force herself to concentrate on talking to Cody’s parents.

‘I’ll chase up PICU,’ Kate was saying, and she nodded.

‘Thanks. Right, I’m just going to update the notes, and as soon as they’ve got a bed free, we’ll be moving him. You’ll be able to stay with him overnight.’

His mother nodded, and Annie stepped away from them, grabbed the notes and moved to the side to write them up.

Behind her she could hear Ed’s voice murmuring to the parents, answering their endless questions with sensibly noncommittal answers.

He’d been amazing. Calm, steady, gentle, soothing the distressed child with a competence that usually came with years of practice.

He was probably a father. Almost inevitably. Someone was bound to have snapped him up, he was far too good to be on the shelf.

Unless he was a player, but he didn’t seem the type. Far too wholesome and straightforward. Until the lights went out?

It was none of her business, she reminded herself crossly. And in any case she wasn’t interested.

At all!

* * *

So this was Annie Brooks.

He glanced across at her, writing up the notes while Kate kept an eye on Cody’s monitor and pottered quietly in the background.

Her back was to him, which meant he could study her without detection. She wasn’t short, but she certainly wasn’t tall. Her head would tuck easily under his chin. And her body was—well, just a body. Nothing out of the ordinary. She wasn’t fat, she wasn’t thin, she was just...womanly, he thought with interest. Feminine. Her curves were in all the right places, and she moved with grace.

Except when she was rattled. Then she moved awkwardly, self-consciously. He found that interesting, too.

Her mid-brown hair was twisted up in a clip at the back, out of the way. A strand had escaped, and she was fiddling with it, one finger twirling the little curl round and round.

It was a curiously innocent gesture, utterly unconscious, the sort of thing people did when they were concentrating hard, and he found it strangely touching.

James had told him about her. He’d said she was competent, kind and easy to work with, but he was sure that underneath the surface there was much, much more to her than that.

Unlike Kate.

There were hundreds of girls like Kate, nice girls, pretty girls, girls who made it clear with every glance that they were available, but Annie...

Annie intrigued him. For a moment there, right at the beginning, he’d had his doubts about her. She’d seemed ruffled by his arrival, somehow, distracted and unfocused, but then the ambulance had arrived and she’d changed.

It was as if she’d engaged a different gear, and it had all settled down. She’d become everything that James had told him she was, and he began to think he’d imagined that sizzle of awareness.

Until their glances had met again. For a fleeting moment the forget-me-not blue of her eyes had locked with his, and then it had been back, whatever ‘it’ was. Some crazy pull between them, like kissing dolls, the magnetic attraction drawing them inexorably together.

And she seemed to resent it, to pull back from it as if it was unwelcome, turning her head and carrying on as if nothing had happened, but it had, and she’d dismissed it.

He felt a twinge of regret. A little light relief to take his mind off the coming months of family trauma and upheaval might have been welcome, but it probably wasn’t sensible. He had nothing to offer, he wasn’t here for long and anyway it was never a good idea to muddy the waters with someone you worked with.

Kate, for instance. She’d made it blindingly obvious she was up for anything he might suggest, but anyway, even if he found her attractive, which he didn’t except in the most superficial and basic way, the same principle applied—

‘PICU are ready for him.’

He nodded at Kate and switched his eyes to Annie.

‘Annie?’

‘All done. Kate, will you go with him, please?’

She slapped the notes shut, put them on the trolley, shook hands with the parents and the two of them watched as Cody was whisked away.

‘Poor little boy. He’s going to have a cracking headache for a few days,’ he said softly.

Annie nodded. ‘Let’s hope that’s all. Good teamwork, by the way. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. Thank you for letting me join you.’

Annie flashed him a quick acknowledging glance, the first time she’d met his eyes for a while now. Well, since that time, when he’d felt that sizzle of awareness again.

But there was no awareness now that he could see, and her voice was brisk and businesslike.

‘You’re welcome. It’s nice to know we’ve got someone on the team with Paeds training. You can never have too many. Right, I need to go and chase up some tests,’ she said, and he could have sworn she was running away.

From him? Surely not. He hadn’t given her any reason to feel threatened or harassed in any way.

So why was he so much of a threat to her?

* * *

‘Hello, my darlings! How are you?’

‘Mummy!’

The girls ran to her, hugging her in stereo, dragging her to the table to see what they were doing.

‘We’ve made you a picture!’

‘I did this bit, and Chloe did that bit—’

‘And Grace put the ears on the bunny, and MamaJo let us eat the last chocolate bunny!’

‘Did she?’ Annie laughed at her mother and shook her head. ‘I thought we didn’t eat chocolate between meals?’

‘But we had it for pudding!’ Grace told her solemnly. ‘MamaJo didn’t cheat.’

Annie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself laughing. ‘I’m glad to hear it. And it’s a lovely picture. Thank you. As soon as it’s dry, we’ll put it up on the wall. Now, how about your bath, and then I’ll read you a story.’

‘I want to choose—’

‘No, it’s my turn—’

‘I’m choosing,’ she said firmly. ‘I think it’s my turn. How about Peter Rabbit?’

‘Yes!’

They ran for the bathroom, and she rolled her eyes at her mother. ‘Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clear it up,’ she promised, and followed them.

Chloe, always the one in trouble, was diving headfirst over the side of the bath, trying to put the plug in, and she fished her back out, put the plug in and turned on the taps.

‘So what else have you done today?’ she asked, quickly stripping their clothes off and throwing them at the laundry basket.

She bathed them while they chattered, washing their hair—Grace’s angelic pale blonde curls, Chloe’s wildly tangled chocolate-brown mop—and then combed it through with conditioner, rinsed and blotted and fished them out of the bath to finish drying while the water drained out.

And all the time they were talking, telling her about their day, their friends, the helpers at the nursery, and amidst the lively chatter Annie felt herself starting to relax.

‘Gosh, we’ve all had a busy day. Come on, let’s go and snuggle up and have a story, and then it’s time for bed.’

She settled them down, tidied up the bathroom and went back to the kitchen.

‘Oh, Mum, I said I’d clear up.’

‘You’ve done enough, you’ve been at work. Here, I’ve made you tea. Come and sit down and tell me about your day.’

Annie flopped into the corner of the sofa and sighed. ‘It was exhausting. We’ve had one thing after another. I don’t think I’ve sat down for more than a few minutes all day. How were the girls? They seem lively enough.’

‘Fine. No problem. They really seem to like the hospital nursery. They were full of everything they’d done today.’

‘I noticed,’ she said drily. ‘They didn’t stop telling me about it all through their bath, but at least it’s a good sign.’

It was good. More than good. It was essential. Her mother was wonderful, and she couldn’t possibly have managed without her since the twins had been born, but she felt so guilty asking, so guilty burdening her with the girls. Although she’d said a million times that having her granddaughters wasn’t a burden, she knew it was. It had to be. They were a burden on her, and she was their mother, although if she had her time over again she’d change nothing. Well, except their father, who’d had the fastest pair of running shoes she’d ever seen, but that wasn’t their fault.

Chloe and Grace were the most wonderful things that had ever happened to her, and the fact that they were happy at the nursery was important for all of them. If the girls weren’t happy, none of them would be happy.

‘How’s Grannie?’ she asked, and her mother shrugged.

‘Oh, much the same. Stubborn, independent, won’t take any painkillers and then wonders why everything hurts.’

Annie smiled ruefully at her mother. ‘Are you OK, Mum? I know you say we aren’t a burden, but between my girls and your mother, you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.’

‘No, I’m not.’ Her mother brushed it aside with a dismissive flap of her hand. ‘What else would I be doing with my time? Arranging flowers in the church? Working in a charity shop?’

She got to her feet, the subject closed. ‘Are you ready for your supper? It’s Thai curry. I’ll just heat it up and we can eat it in here in front of the television, with your feet up.’

Annie smiled gratefully at her. ‘That sounds lovely. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. Well, only chocolate biscuits.’

Her mother tutted and walked off in the direction of the kitchen, and she watched her go and felt guilt. Always guilt.

She should have got up, gone to help, but she was exhausted. It had been a killer shift, not made any easier by trying to dodge Ed Shackleton. Impossible. They’d seemed to end up working together all day.

Which was fine. Working with him was fine. He was great to work with. It was those little moments in between, when the pressure was off and he’d strip off his gloves and apron and fold his arms and slouch back against the wall with that casual grace...

She rested her head back, gave a little sigh and closed her eyes, but there he was, welded on to her retinas—laughing at something silly, sprinting to the ambulance bay, snapping into action when someone had arrested in Resus—images of him tormented her and she sat forward and dropped her head into her hands.

‘What’s up?’

‘Oh, nothing. New colleague. He’s a bit...’

‘Useless?’

‘Oh, no, he’s not useless. Far from it. He’s excellent. He’s just—I don’t know. There. All the time.’

What was it with a mother’s radar? She could almost hear the antenna twirling.

‘Single?’

She stuck the fork into her curry and lifted a chunk of chicken up to her mouth.

‘Mum, I have no idea. It’s irrelevant. I’m not interested.’

‘How old?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Thirty? Thirty-two? He’s a registrar.’

And he didn’t wear a ring, which meant nothing, of course, because she didn’t either and she was far from free. Single, yes, but free? Available? Not in this lifetime.

‘So what’s the problem with him?’

Nothing she was about to discuss with her mother!

‘Nothing. There’s no problem. It’s just—settling into a new working relationship. It’s difficult.’

Which was a downright lie, because there was nothing difficult about it. Not professionally. They seemed to work together seamlessly as if they’d done it for years, anticipating each other, communicating without words.

They made a great team.

She just didn’t want to be on the same team as a man like Ed Shackleton, because he played havoc with her hard-won peace of mind, and she resented that.

A lot.

* * *

Ed let himself in and closed the door softly, following the sound of running water to the kitchen.

‘Hi, Marnie. How’re you doing?’

His grandmother dried her hands and smiled fondly at him. ‘All the better for seeing you. How was your first day?’

He laughed softly and hugged her. ‘It was fine. Nice people, interesting cases. How’s Grumps?’

She shrugged, and he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, bit up and down today. You know. Living up to his name.’

He knew only too well, and he hugged her again, rocking her against his chest as she’d rocked him so many, many times over the years.

She let him hold her for a while, then sighed softly and pushed away, her hands, the hands that so many times had wiped away his childish tears, gentle on his chest. He let her go, tipped up her chin and stared down into her eyes. Her own tears now weren’t very far away, and he frowned and tutted softly.

‘I’m here for you, Marnie, you know that, don’t you? Any time, day or night. You just have to call me.’

‘I know that, darling. Thank you.’

He shook his head. ‘Don’t thank me. We’re all in this together. I love him, too, you know.’

‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘I think he’s going to need a wash and a change before we settle him for the night.’

‘OK. I’ll sort him out. You make yourself a drink and sit down and have a rest. You look done in.’

It took him a while to sort out his grandfather. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the old man was a bit feisty and resistant to his physio.

But when Ed tucked him back up in bed, settled him on his pillows and kissed him goodnight, the old man settled back with a sigh.

‘That’s better, Edward.’

The words were slurred, but he knew what his grandfather was saying and it was the nearest he’d get to thanks. His answering smile was a little crooked. ‘We aim to please, Grumps.’

‘Well, go on. All done now.’

Ed sighed and straightened up, the tenuous link broken. ‘Goodnight, Grumps. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.’

There was a grunt, but the old man was already drifting off, and he went out and closed the door softly behind him.

His grandmother was waiting in the kitchen, a cup by the kettle. ‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Oh, tea, weak. I’ve had too much coffee today.’

‘So how was he with you?’

‘OK. Bit argumentative.’ He gave a wry grin, and his grandmother smiled sadly.

‘I don’t know what we’d do without you.’ Her face crumpled briefly. ‘Hideous bloody disease,’ she muttered, a little quiver in her voice. ‘It’s so cruel, so wicked. He used to be such a nice man, so kind and affectionate, just like you. I can’t bear the thought of having to watch you disintegrate like him—’

‘You won’t have to,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ve told you that.’

‘So you have,’ she said quietly, and then she straightened up and looked him in the eye with that way of hers that told him she knew he was lying.

He felt a flicker of guilt and dismissed it. It wasn’t really a lie. She wouldn’t see him deteriorate like his grandfather—but possibly only because she was unlikely to live long enough for the disease to manifest itself. If he’d even got the gene...

He drank his tea, chatted about his day to give his grandmother something to distract her from the topic he was so keen to avoid, and then left her, driving the short distance to his rented house.

He hadn’t needed to rent it. He could have stayed with his grandparents or his parents. Both of them lived within minutes of the hospital, but this had been closer, and he’d used that as an excuse because he’d needed it. It was his sanctuary, his private space, his bolthole from the awful reality that was his potential destiny.

He parked in the carport at the back of the garden and let himself in through the conservatory. It was a lovely evening, a little chilly but he didn’t mind that. He needed the fresh air. He poured himself a glass of wine, took it back out to the garden and dropped into the swing seat, shifting it idly to and fro with one foot and letting his mind drift over the day.

And centre stage was Annie Brooks.

She was older than him. Mid-thirties? Maybe late? He didn’t know exactly, but she was consultant grade and even with his rigid focus on his career he hadn’t got there yet. Just this last rung on the ladder to go and he’d be able to look for a consultant’s post.

Where would he be then?

London? Back to Great Ormond Street, maybe.

Not here, that was for sure. Once his grandfather had gone, there would be nothing to keep him here in this quiet coastal backwater where nothing much ever happened.

At least, it hadn’t in the last thirty-two years, and he had no reason to believe it would happen now just because he’d come home to watch his grandfather die a slow and lingering death.

He sighed, the image of his grandmother’s face as she’d looked at him in the kitchen triggering another twinge of guilt.

Did she really know he was lying?

He hadn’t lied, though. Not exactly, and she wouldn’t have to watch him disintegrate, not unless he got really unlucky. He’d told her he hadn’t had a positive result from the predictive screening test, which was true, because he hadn’t had the result at all.

He’d had the genetic counselling, the blood test, gone through the whole process right up to the bitter end. But he hadn’t taken that last step of hearing his fate, and he didn’t want to. It was his life. He could make his own decisions about it, and choosing whether or not to know the truth about his own destiny was one of them. Not telling his family about that decision was another, but it would stop with him, that wasn’t a lie, because he wasn’t having children.

Ever.

And nor was he taking some poor unsuspecting woman with him on the journey to hell, if that should turn out to be his fate.

His grandmother’s face disappeared, replaced inexplicably by the face of Annie Brooks, and he frowned.

No. No way. He wasn’t touching her with a bargepole. She was too nice, too decent for the only kind of relationship he had in mind. He’d be better off with Kate. At least she knew the rules.

Except he didn’t want Kate.

He wanted Annie, and he couldn’t have her. It wasn’t fair to her. And anyway, she’d made it clear she wanted to put as much distance as possible between them at all times.

Well, thank goodness one of them had some common sense.

He swore softly, drained the wine and went to bed.

CHAPTER TWO

THERE WAS SOMETHING different about him the next day.

Annie couldn’t put her finger on it, and it took her till lunchtime to work out what it was.

He was avoiding her eye.

It had taken her that long to cotton on because she’d been so busy avoiding his, but once she realised it, she felt curiously, stupidly disappointed.

Why? She didn’t want him to look at her, to crowd her space, to be underfoot all the time like he had been yesterday.

Did she?

No!

‘Annie?’

She glanced up to see James Slater, their clinical lead, standing a few feet away, watching her with his head tilted to one side.

‘Oh. Hi.’ She smiled apologetically at him. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. What can I do for you, James?’

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing, so why don’t you take lunch now while it’s so quiet?’

‘Shh.’ She pressed her finger to her lips, and he chuckled.

‘Superstitious?’

She grinned. ‘Always. But I will grab some lunch while the going’s good. We didn’t have time yesterday, in case you’re running away with the idea that we had an idle day!’

‘No, I gather it was chaos. Sorry I had to bail on you for that meeting. How was Ed?’

Too beautiful for his own good. Or hers.

‘Good. Great. Excellent doctor.’

‘I’m glad about that. I thought he would be. His references were stunning and we were really lucky to get him. Right, off you go before that damn phone rings.’

She grinned again, saluted and went, grabbing her bag from her locker on the way, then hurried outside to go round to the café in the sunshine.

And bumped straight into Ed.

Literally.

‘Aagh!’

She leapt back, clutching at her scrub top and pulling it hastily away from her chest. ‘Sheesh, that’s hot!’ she gasped, flapping the fabric to cool it as the coffee soaked straight through and drenched her.

‘Hell, Annie, I’m sorry. Are you all right?’

He was shaking cappuccino froth off his hand, and she tilted her head and gave him a sarky look. ‘Oh, peachy—apart from being doused in scalding coffee! Why didn’t you have a lid on it?’

‘I did—you squashed it when you ran into it. I’m so sorry. Are you all right? You’re not really scalded, are you?’

She thought about it and shook her head. Her bra was sopping, and the coffee had been hot but not hot enough to damage her. She could feel it cooling down already in the light breeze.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t sue you. I’m just going to be wringing wet and a little fragrant for the rest of the day,’ she said wryly.

‘Yeah, you probably need to change.’

‘Really? I thought I’d wander round like this all day wearing cappuccino—set a new trend, you know?’

‘You don’t have to be sarcastic—’

‘I can be what I like, I’m the one soaked to the skin with it,’ she retorted, but then she gave a despairing laugh and shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, I can find myself some new scrubs. The underwear might be harder.’

‘Ah. Sorry, I can’t help you there. I don’t have my spare bra in my locker today.’

She looked up, a surprised laugh on her lips, and their eyes met and locked, the laughter dying as heat flared between them.

Why were they even talking about her underwear?

She dragged her eyes away. ‘Look, it’s fine. I’m sorry about the coffee, I’ll get you another one while I’m in the café.’

‘Forget it. I’ll get myself another one. Look, why don’t you go and change and we’ll go over there together and I’ll buy you lunch?’

‘Do you have time?’

That wasn’t what she’d meant to say! No, no, no! She should have told him it wasn’t necessary and she’d rather be alone!

Her mouth, however, didn’t seem to be under her control any more, and he cornered her with his next words.

‘I’ve got time. I wasn’t going to bother to eat, but as it’s quiet—’

‘Shush! What is it with everyone today?’

He grinned, his mouth kicking up on one side, and she felt her insides turn over.

‘Go on, hurry up, get changed and we’ll grab a sandwich and eat it in the park. Shoo.’

* * *

She must be mad.

She dabbed the coffee out of her bra—thankfully not a moulded-cup T-shirt bra but just a thin lace one—squashed it dry with paper towels, then pulled on the clean scrubs. It would dry off in time, and she didn’t have any choice.

She checked herself in the mirror, then headed back outside and found him propped against the wall of the building on his phone. He glanced at her, nodded and ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

‘Better?’

‘I’ll do.’

‘I really am sorry.’

‘As you were kind enough to point out, I ran into you—although technically I wasn’t running.’

‘Almost, but I wasn’t looking where I was going. Why don’t we call it quits?’ he said with a wry grin, and ushered her into the café. Two minutes later they were sitting outside on a bench and ripping open sandwich packets.

‘Coronation chicken or tuna?’

‘Don’t care. I just want to eat it before my pager goes off.’

He split them, handed her one of each and tore open the potato crisps, and she put their coffee down carefully on the bench between them and bit into the first sandwich.

‘So, Annie Brooks, tell me all about yourself,’ he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘All?’

He grinned. ‘Well, obviously not all. I don’t need to know when you started your periods or what grade you got for your A levels—’

‘Thirteen, and three As. You?’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘OK. Three As and a B. And I’m still waiting. My mother said it might be a while.’

It was her turn to laugh.

‘OK. I’m...single,’ she said, reluctant to use the word when it wasn’t technically true, because she was definitely in a relationship, albeit with her children. But there didn’t seem to be a box to tick for ‘was engaged to a philandering adulterer who legged it before I could tell him I was pregnant’ so it was hard to find a more appropriate word. And for some reason she didn’t want to tell him about all that.

‘I trained in London, at King’s, and then I worked in various London hospitals, and I’m thirty-six and this is my first consultancy. I work part time, job sharing with Andy, and I work four days a week. Your turn.’

‘OK. I’m thirty-two, single, I trained in Nottingham and I’ve worked in Cambridge and London. My last job was in Great Ormond Street and I’m angling for a consultancy there.’

‘Ah. Hence the Paeds.’

‘Indeed. And I’m definitely full time. With bells on. So, that’s the work thing. How about the rest? Favourite colour, music, film...’

‘OK, my favourite colour is green, I’m vegetarian, a member of Greenpeace, my favourite food is—’

‘Don’t tell me. Peas. Or spinach? Green beans?’

She couldn’t suppress the smile. ‘You guessed.’

‘I sensed a green theme going on and I know for a fact you were lying about being a vegetarian, because you’re eating a chicken sandwich.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘OK. No more prying. Although I wasn’t, really.’

She conceded the point and opened up a little. ‘Actually, my favourite colour probably is green. Look over there at the new leaves on the trees, that brilliant acid green. Isn’t that the most wonderful colour? So full of hope and promise.’

He looked, and with a soft sigh he nodded, his smile somehow sad. ‘Yes. Yes, it is,’ he said quietly. ‘So, if it’s not too personal, why are you here, in Yoxburgh?’

‘Because my family’s here,’ she said honestly but without elaboration. ‘You?’

‘Ditto,’ he said, but there was a shadow in his eyes.

There was a question, as yet unformed, poised on the tip of her tongue when their pagers both beeped.

He pulled his out, glanced at it and stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth as he sprinted for the door, leaving her to deal with the debris of their lunch.

She left their half-finished drinks. She’d had enough coffee-related incidents today without risking another one. It was only when she joined him in Resus and he glanced down at her chest and grinned that she saw the damp imprint of lace on her scrub top. And her nipples, chilly from the light breeze over the damp fabric, had peaked enthusiastically.

She arched a brow primly, covered her top with an apron and pulled on some gloves.

‘So, what have we got?’ she asked him, all efficiency.

‘This is Elizabeth. She slipped and fell over the edge of the kerb. She’s got an open tib and fib on the right and query Colles’ of the left radius and ulna. She’s stable, she’s had five of morphine on the way in and I’ve just given her another five, and she’s very coherent, aren’t you, Elizabeth?’

‘Am I? I don’t feel very coherent. That morphine’s lovely,’ she slurred.

‘Good. We’re just waiting for X-rays to confirm the fractures. Would you do me a favour, Annie, and check the pulse in that foot? I think it’s looking a bit pale.’

‘Sure.’

It was. Pale, cold and she didn’t like the look of it.

‘I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak.’

He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. The orthos are tied up in Theatre. I think it might need a little help before they’re free.’

‘Elizabeth?’

‘Oh, Jerry! Thank goodness you’re here.’

‘Sorry, darling, I had trouble parking the car.’ He grasped her good hand and looked up at them worriedly. ‘How is she?’

‘Sore, broken, but she’ll be all right,’ Annie assured him. ‘Her leg’s a bit of a worry. I think the blood vessels might be pinched, so we want to stretch it out a little and line the bones up better.’

He winced, and squeezed his wife’s hand. ‘Will you do it under anaesthetic?’

Ed shook his head. ‘No need, it’s really fast. We’ll give her a sedative and she might moan a bit but she won’t really know anything about it and she’ll come round very quickly. She’s had lots of pain relief.’

‘Morphine. It’s lovely,’ she said, smiling up at her husband and looking utterly away with the fairies.

‘Oh, dear. You always were a lightweight, my poppet,’ he said fondly, and kissed her forehead. ‘She just tripped over the kerb and down she went, just like that. I heard the crack from the other side of the car. Horrible.’

‘Yes, it’s a nasty break, and she’ll need surgery to stabilise it. Right, have we got that ketamine drawn up?’

It took moments. Ed took her foot, Annie took her knee and it was done. Her foot went pink and the pulse was instantly better, with only a little moan to show for it.

Jerry looked a bit queasy for a moment, but he hung on, stroking her hair back from her face and kissing her, and as she came round she smiled at him.

‘It’s all done,’ he told her, and she looked surprised.

‘Oh. That was quick.’

‘That’s us,’ Ed said with a grin. ‘Faster than a speeding bullet. Right, can we have a backslab on that and refer her to the orthopaedic team, please?’

‘The wrist fracture’s undisplaced,’ Annie told him. ‘I think we could just put a backslab on that for now, too.’

He nodded. ‘OK, Elizabeth, they’ll be taking you up to the ward soon to admit you, and then you’ll be going to Theatre to fix your leg.’

‘Will it be all right?’

‘It should be fine, but you might set off the alarms in the airport from now on.’

‘Oh, how exciting,’ she said with a smile, and Annie chuckled, amazed at her optimism and positivity.

Jerry smiled. ‘That’s my girl. Always looks on the bright side.’

But his wife frowned. ‘Not always. Talking of theatres, we won’t be able to go to the play tonight, will we? What a shame. I was so looking forward to it.’

‘We’ll go another time.’ Jerry looked up at them, glancing from Ed to Annie and back. ‘I don’t suppose either of you two can use these?’

He produced a couple of tickets from his jacket pocket and held them out. ‘Tickets for Arsenic and Old Lace at the Yoxburgh Playhouse this evening. We’re obviously going to be otherwise engaged, and it seems a shame to waste them. And if you can’t use them, perhaps you could pass them on?’

‘Of course. Thank you, how kind of you. That’s very generous.’

‘Well, they’re no use to us, and there’s no point in wasting them. And you’ve been very kind. All of you have.’

Ed smiled and pocketed the tickets. ‘Thank you. We’ll make sure they get used. Good luck, Elizabeth. Hope it goes well.’

‘I’m sure it will. Thank you for the morphine. I might have to come back for some more of that, it’s rather nice.’

He chuckled as Kate wheeled the trolley out, but she slowed as she passed and murmured something to him.

He just laughed, and then the doors swished shut and he turned to Annie, his eyes thoughtful.

‘I don’t suppose you’re free this evening? I know Kate is, she just told me, but, to be honest I’m not sure I’m brave enough to take her up on it.’ There was a smile flickering in the back of his eyes, and she laughed softly.

‘She’s not that bad.’

‘If you say so, but I’d much rather take you.’

She tilted her head on one side and studied him searchingly. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious. Why not? We’ve just been given two free tickets for a very funny play, and frankly I could do with a good laugh and you look as if you could, too. So—are you free to come with me or are you going to make me take Kate?’

Was she free? Free to go, yes, if her mother would babysit, and tonight wasn’t a night she was usually busy. But—free to go out with Dr Gorgeous?

That was an altogether different question and it made her heart beat a little faster.

‘I need to check with my family,’ she said evasively, and his smile softened.

‘Me, too. So, shall we both do that and then confirm?’

‘Good idea. I’ll let you know.’

‘What happened to our coffee, by the way?’ he asked as they walked out of Resus together.

‘Ah. I left it outside. Thought we’d had enough coffee dramas today.’

His eyes flicked down to her chest, and he smiled, sending all sorts of crazy messages to her nerve endings.

‘Probably wise. Want to try again?’

But the red phone and her pager had other ideas, and they headed off in different directions, coffee on hold again.

‘Don’t forget to let me know,’ he called after her, and she nodded.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to go. No, she was sure that she did, but she wasn’t sure—at all—of the wisdom of it. Nevertheless, as soon as she could, she rang her mother.

* * *

‘So, are you taking me to the theatre tonight?’

He looked down into Kate’s guileless eyes and smiled wryly. ‘No. I’m taking Annie, if she’s free.’

‘Annie?’

‘Yes, Annie. What’s wrong with that?’

Kate shrugged. ‘Nothing. Just—she’s older than you, and she’ll need a babysitter if her mum can’t do it.’

Babysitter?

‘She’s checking it out,’ he said smoothly, while his understanding of Annie realigned itself in private. ‘And age is nothing to do with it. This is hardly a hot date and, anyway, she’s not exactly ancient.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, I’m definitely available,’ she said, her tempting smile promising to turn it into the hot date of the century.

He wasn’t tempted. Not in the least, which was odd because normally he might well have been, but compared to Annie—well, there was no comparison, and he had to put her straight or life was going to be really difficult.

‘Thanks, but I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ he said gently but firmly. ‘And for what it’s worth, I won’t change my mind. Ever. I’m not in the market, Kate, so you’re wasting your time with me.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Shame. We could have had fun. Well, if you do change your mind, you know where to find me.’

Did she have no pride?

He went back to work, the word ‘babysitter’ echoing in his head. Funny. She hadn’t mentioned a child. Family, yes, but a child? Not that it changed anything, not for this evening. Or any other evening. He wasn’t going there, he reminded himself firmly. Tonight was a definite one-off.

He grabbed the little mid-afternoon lull and went out of the door to call his grandmother. ‘Hi, Marnie. How are you doing?’

‘OK. What’s wrong? You don’t usually ring during the day.’

‘I wanted to ask you a favour. We’ve been given tickets to the theatre tonight by a patient. I just wondered if you could cope without me this evening if I went.’

‘Of course I can cope. You go and have a lovely time. Are you going with anyone nice?’

He laughed softly. ‘I’m going with a colleague. We were both working on the case.’

‘Well, have fun with her.’

Her? Damn her razor-sharp intuition. He could challenge her but that would draw attention to it, so he changed the subject. ‘How’s he been today? Are you sure you can get him to bed all right on your own? Mum and Dad should be around if not.’

‘Of course I can do it. As you said, your parents are around if I run into difficulties.’

Although they both knew she wouldn’t call them unless there was an out and out crisis. And he could see where they were coming from, how emotionally distressing his father found it, but—

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. You go out and have a lovely time, but I expect you to tell me all about it.’

He chuckled. ‘OK, will do. I’ll see you later. Call if you need me, I’ll have my phone on silent but I’ll feel it ring and I can always leave. It won’t be too late, anyway.’

‘I won’t need you. You go and have fun. Love you, darling.’

‘Love you, too. I’ll see you later.’

He hung up and turned round, to find Annie watching him thoughtfully.

‘I thought you said you were single?’

He blinked. ‘I am. That was my grandmother.’

‘Oh.’ She coloured slightly and waved a hand. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit, um...’

‘Suspicious?’

‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘It’s a habit.’

He nodded, then said casually, ‘So did you get your babysitter sorted out?’

She stiffened, her eyes widening briefly with alarm, and then she frowned. ‘How...?’

‘Kate,’ he told her, although he didn’t tell her what else Kate had said in the process of eliminating the competition.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Silly me.’ She gave a wry laugh but she didn’t look pleased and so he didn’t pursue it. Her dependants were none of his business.

‘So—did you sort it?’ he asked again, and she nodded.

‘Yes. Yes, I did. It’s fine.’

‘Good. That means we’re both free. So, shall I pick you up at seven?’

Panic flared in her luminous blue eyes. ‘No. I’ll meet you there at a quarter past. It’s only a short walk from home and it’s a lovely day.’

And you don’t want to give me your address.

‘OK. I’ll be there at seven-fifteen, armed with the tickets. We can have a drink before the show. I’ll get them in ready. What would you like?’

‘Oh. Um—dry white wine?’

‘OK.’ He smiled at her, curious that she seemed suddenly flustered by the idea of the drink. ‘So—do you want me, or were you just eavesdropping?’

‘I want y—’ She broke off, and soft colour washed over her cheeks again as she registered what she was saying, but she held his eyes anyway and he suppressed a smile. ‘There’s a little girl I want you to look at,’ she amended.

‘OK. Lead me to her, and you can fill me in.’

* * *

This is not a date.

She stared blankly at the contents of her wardrobe, the words echoing in her head like a mantra.

So—what to wear, then? Jeans? Or smart-casual, which opened a whole new can of worms, because there was a huge range of options.

Who was she kidding? Her wardrobe was scanty, to say the least, and apart from work clothes she spent precious little on it because the budget just didn’t stretch to pretty stuff she never got to wear.

But there was one thing, a rich sapphire-blue maxi dress in soft jersey that she’d bought last summer that she could dress up or down, and she really, really didn’t want to wear jeans and a top again. She hardly ever went out. This was the first time in ages, and she knew it wasn’t a date, but there was no harm in looking nice, was there?

And at least it didn’t smell of coffee.

She put it on, ripped it off again and put a strappy white vest top on underneath, then pulled it on again and stood back. Better. Cleavage would send out a whole different message, one she wasn’t happy with—and just to be on the safe side, she was wearing a T-shirt bra with moulded cups so her nipples wouldn’t show if she got chilly. He’d seen quite enough of them today already.

She slid her feet into some pretty little flat pumps, pulled on a cardi, contemplated and dismissed a necklace and at the last minute spritzed herself with perfume.

It was evening, after all, and she couldn’t wear it at work, so why not? She checked her lippy, stood back for another look and then glanced at her watch.

Yikes. She was going to have to run.

‘Bye, Mum,’ she said, sticking her head round the door.

‘Bye, darling. You look lovely. Have a good time.’

‘Thanks, I will. Call if you need me, I’ve got my phone on silent. Got to dash.’

She grabbed her bag, debated a jacket and then went without it. No time to dither, no time to stroll there in a leisurely fashion, just a rapid walk that brought her up the steps to the Yoxburgh Playhouse at a hair past seven-fifteen.

She walked in, went up to the bar and he was standing there waiting for her, looking good enough to eat in a casual linen blazer, jeans and a blinding white shirt open at the neck to reveal that oh-so-masculine throat. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark shadow on his jaw just added to the tantalising aura of danger that surrounded him.

His smile made her heart trip faster.

‘Hi. Sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re not—well, only a few seconds. Here, have a drink.’

She took the glass, conscious of the fact that she was windswept, breathing hard and would probably start to glow like a beacon in a moment. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. You look lovely, by the way. Pretty dress.’

‘Thanks. I don’t really have a lot of choice, and it’s nice to have a chance to wear it.’

‘It suits you. That colour really works with your eyes.’

‘What, the shadows underneath?’

He chuckled. ‘You really need to learn to take a compliment, Annie.’

Well, no, she didn’t. She’d had compliments, bucketloads of them, but they’d all been lies and frankly she didn’t care if she never heard another one. As she’d pointed out to him, being suspicious was a habit.

‘Sorry. I don’t trust compliments.’

He frowned, opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it again, but his eyes were frank and assessing, and she got the feeling there wasn’t much he didn’t see.

And that made her uneasy. She didn’t want to be the object of his scrutiny, so she changed the subject fast.

‘So—remind me of the plot?’

One of those strong, dark eyebrows quirked, but he let her get away with it.

‘Oh, it’s crazy. Two daffy old sisters who poison their lodgers and bury them in the cellar in graves dug by a brother who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt and he’s digging the Panama Canal, and another brother who’s in love with the preacher’s daughter. I haven’t seen it for years but it’s very, very funny.’

‘It sounds chaotic. I was trying to remember if I’d ever seen it, but I don’t think I have. What a shame about Elizabeth’s fall.’

‘Mmm. They were really looking forward to it. She’s doing OK, by the way. I rang a little while ago and she was out of surgery and back on the ward and it all went well.’

‘Good. Well, here’s to them.’

She raised her glass, and he clinked his against it and held her eyes with his as he took the first sip.

They smouldered slightly—or was it just her imagination? She looked away, suddenly conscious of his nearness in the now-crowded bar, and she felt the warmth from her brisk walk beginning to make itself felt.

‘Gosh, it’s getting hot in here,’ she said, peeling off her cardi and slinging it over her arm.

‘It’ll be warm in the auditorium, too. We’d better drink up and go and find our seats.’

‘Good idea.’ She drained her glass, felt the wine hit her system and wished she’d had a little more to eat before she’d come out. All she needed was to trip over the steps and fall flat on her face.

But she didn’t fall, and he held her elbow and ushered her politely to her seat, folding it down for her and then sitting after she was settled.

Bone-deep good manners.

And suddenly she felt safer, less threatened, because for all he was gorgeous, he’d said and done nothing to make her feel uncomfortable. It was just her own reaction to him, and she could manage that. It was under her control.

It would be fine.

And it was, right up until the time the lights dimmed, the audience went quiet and her arm brushed against his in the narrow seats.

He’d taken off his jacket, turned back his sleeves and the soft hairs on his forearm teased her skin, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

Heat shot through her, and she shifted subtly, moving slightly out of his way, but there was someone on the other side who was taking the whole armrest, so she shifted back again, right into the warm, fragrant air that surrounded him, the scent of cologne drifting over her and making her want to lean closer and breathe him in.

She resisted the urge, just folded her hands in her lap to keep her elbows out of mischief, and then the action on stage caught her attention and she made herself forget about him and let the experience take over.

* * *

‘That was so, so funny.’

‘Wasn’t it? Utterly hilarious. Very physical. I’m surprised some of the cast haven’t been in to see us before now. They did Alan Ayckbourn’s Noises Off when I was in Nottingham, and someone came in with a broken leg from falling down the stairs one too many times.’

‘Ouch. The things they do for their art.’ Annie tugged her cardi closer round her shoulders as they headed for the street. ‘Gosh, it’s cooled off. I am an idiot, I nearly brought a jacket but I was running late and it seemed quite warm at seven.’

‘Here.’

Before she could protest, she felt the weight of his blazer draped around her shoulders, warm from his body and carrying the scent of his cologne. It was like wearing him, and she breathed in slowly and drew the heady essence of him deep into her lungs.

‘Better?’

‘Much. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. I could make a wisecrack about you not dressing adequately, but I’m not that mean.’

‘No, of course not. Just for that, I won’t offer it back.’

‘Pride wouldn’t let me take it. And anyway, as I’ve already pointed out, you look lovely so it’s a small sacrifice.’

‘I’m sure you’ll live.’

‘I’m sure I will. But it does mean I have to walk you home to repossess it.’

He grinned at her with that little-boy grin, and she smiled back, her eyes softening. ‘That’s fine, I’ll let you. I don’t think you’re about to turn into a stalker. Thank you for taking me this evening, by the way.’

‘You’re welcome. Thank you for coming. You do realise if you hadn’t been able to, I would have been obliged to ask Kate.’

She laughed softly at his shudder. ‘Why didn’t you ask her in the first place? I can’t believe you’re really scared of her.’

He chuckled. ‘No contest. It was you or Kate, and you were the obvious choice. Apart from the fact that Jerry gave us the tickets and not Kate, I’d far rather be with you. I think we have the same sense of humour.’

‘And Kate doesn’t?’

His mouth quirked. ‘Kate isn’t interested in humour. She just wants my body.’

Annie spluttered and clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress the laugh. ‘That’s outrageous!’

‘It’s true. She as good as said so. I told her I wasn’t interested.’

‘She’ll be gutted. She fell in love with you yesterday when she saw you through the glass.’

He chuckled, but there was a tinge of colour on his neck and it made her smile.

‘So—just out of curiosity,’ she asked after a moment of companionable silence, ‘and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but who was your grandmother putting to bed?’

‘Ah. My grandfather. He’s—’ Ed broke off, and his face looked troubled.

‘Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.’

‘That’s OK. He’s in a wheelchair and he’s a bit difficult to deal with sometimes.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Is that why you’re here? To help with caring for him?’

He looked down at her, surprised by her intuition, but maybe he shouldn’t have been because she seemed to be able to read him easily.

‘Yes,’ he told her, because it was the truth, if not the whole truth. ‘He’s going downhill fast now, and Marnie really can’t manage any longer, but she’s determined to look after him herself. I don’t know how long he’s got, but I promised her I’d be around for her until he’s gone.’

‘And then?’

He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘So do you live with them?’

He shook his head, surprising her. ‘No. I’ve got my own place closer to the hospital. I’m renting it from the Walkers. He’s an obstetrician. James put me in touch with them when he offered me the job.’

‘And does she mind? Your grandmother?’

‘No,’ he said, but he wasn’t sure it was true. ‘She would probably rather have had the company, but I told her I needed to be nearer the hospital and she was OK with it.’

‘So where do they live?’

‘On the clifftop near the golf club.’

She frowned. ‘But—that’s only about a mile or so away from the hospital.’

‘I know, but mine is closer, and that’s five minutes in an emergency, and she hasn’t questioned it. And I needed my own space.’

‘And you couldn’t say so.’

He smiled wryly. ‘No. Not directly. Not like that.’

Annie nodded slowly. ‘Families are tricky things. Juggling all the obligations. The guilt.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He looked down at her again as they strolled slowly along the pavement. ‘So where does your mother live?’

‘With me. Or, rather, we live with her. I’ve got two daughters. Twins. Chloe and Grace. They’re nearly three. She took early retirement and moved down to London to help me when I went back to work, and we lived in my rented flat, but then my grandmother needed more support so we moved back up here to Mum’s bungalow when a job came up last summer. I’ve been here nearly a year and it’s been brilliant, but we couldn’t afford a big enough house for all of us so we’re living in Mum’s for now until I’ve cleared my debts from my maternity leave. It’s a bit crowded, though, and sometimes I just long for my own space.’

He nodded. ‘I can understand that. Even if it’s just for a short while every day, it’s important, and I imagine that’s even more true with twins. That’s pretty hard-core parenting, I should imagine, especially in the early days.’ He hesitated for a minute, then went on, ‘And their father?’

‘Not part of our lives,’ she said firmly, and he heard the door slam firmly closed.

That was fine. He had enough no-go areas in his own life to understand she had hers, but it didn’t stop him despising a man who could abandon his own children. Some people didn’t know how lucky they were.

She’d come to a halt, pausing in front of a small detached bungalow in a leafy avenue just around the corner from his rented house.

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