Snowkissed

Two fabulous Christmas stories filled with snowflakes and winter kisses

The Midwife’s Marriage Proposal
Sarah Morgan
Blind-Date Marriage
Fiona Harper

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Midwife’s Marriage Proposal

There’s a new Sally in town!

After seven years, Sally is facing her demons and coming

home. The last time she saw Tom Hunter was when he broke

off their relationship. Will the old chemistry pulling them

back together be stronger than the new Sally?

Find out what happens next in Sarah Morgan’s heartwarming winter romance …

About the Author

As a child SARAH MORGAN dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading, Sarah enjoys music, movies and any activity that takes her outdoors.

Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

Praise for

Sarah Morgan

‘Sarah Morgan puts the magic in Christmas!’

Now magazine

‘Full of romance and sparkle’

Lovereading

‘I’ve found an author I adore—must hunt down

everything she’s published.’

Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

‘Morgan is a magician with words.’

RT Book Reviews

‘Dear Ms Morgan, I’m always on the lookout

for a new book by you …’

Dear Author blog

PROLOGUE

SHE stood with her eyes on the mountains and her face to the wind, breathing in the smell of home.

It had been so long.

Too long.

She felt pressure on her arm and turned to her friend with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘For forgetting you were there.’ Sally spread her arms and closed her eyes, letting the freezing air numb her cheeks and the biting wind whip her blonde hair into a tangled frenzy. ‘It just feels so amazing to be back.’

No matter how far she’d travelled, how much of the world she’d explored, the Lake District had always been her home.

When pain and misery had almost destroyed her, she’d come here to seek comfort, and when circumstances had forced her to move away, she’d pined for the comfort of the fells.

‘So why did you stay away so long?’

Sally’s arms dropped to her sides and she whirled round, green eyes blazing. ‘You know why.’

‘Yes.’ Bryony looked anguished. ‘He drove you away.’

‘He didn’t. I chose to leave.’ Sally’s tone was steady and she caught a strand of hair that was blowing in front of her face, anchoring it with slender fingers. ‘But now I’m back.’

And she was never leaving again.

‘What made you come back now? After so long?’

Sally gave a wistful smile. ‘I suppose I’d been thinking about it for a while and then I had your letter telling me that you’d finally married Jack and that Oliver had met someone.’ She broke off, remembering how she’d felt when she’d read everything that had been happening at home. ‘I suddenly realized how much I was missing my old friends. You are the nearest I have to family. I realized that it was time to come back.’

‘He doesn’t know, Sal.’ Bryony’s voice was quiet and Sally nodded.

That was exactly the way she’d planned it. If she was going to be able to hold herself together for that first, agonizing meeting, then she needed to be in a position of control.

‘Thank you for not telling him.’

‘Did you think I would?’

Sally shrugged, her expression guarded as she studied her childhood friend. ‘He’s your brother.’

‘And you’re my best friend.’ Bryony gave a twisted smile. ‘Or at least you were my best friend until Tom broke your heart and you vanished halfway round the world.’

‘Friendships needn’t be compromised by distance.’

Bryony bit her lip. ‘I thought perhaps—’ She shrugged her shoulders, showing how helpless she felt. ‘I’m his sister, after all.’

Sally stirred. ‘And you and I were best friends before he and I were lovers.’

‘How will you—?’ Bryony broke off and licked her lips. ‘You’re going to be working with him, Sally. Won’t it be difficult for you?’

‘No.’ Sally lifted her chin, applying the rigid self-discipline that she’d cultivated over the past seven years. ‘It won’t be difficult.’

Tom Hunter was part of her past. She’d learned to live without him. His rejection had hurt her so badly that for a while she’d thought she’d never recover. But she’d put all that behind her. She’d built a new life, pushed herself to the limits in a fevered determination never to give herself time to stand still and contemplate. And in the process she’d enjoyed experiences that to most people were just a dream. And developed a self-confidence that had given her the courage to come home.

‘I can’t believe you applied for a job in his department.’

Sally gave a casual shrug. ‘I’m a midwife, Bry, and this is a small community. How many departments are there?’

And it was part of the test she’d set herself. To see how far she’d come in seven years.

‘You could have gone to a different town.’

‘No. This is my home,’ Sally said softly, her eyes fixed on the mountains with almost naked longing. ‘And I’ve stayed away long enough.’

And she’d pined for long enough.

Finally she’d picked up the pieces, stuck them back together and made herself whole again.

She was ready to face the world.

And she was ready to face Tom Hunter.

CHAPTER ONE

‘SALLY JENNER! I am so pleased to finally meet you.’ Emma’s smile was warm with welcome. ‘I’ve heard such good things about you and we badly need an extra midwife. You are going to be everyone’s most popular person.’

‘Thanks. It’s good to be here.’ Sally smiled at the labour ward sister, but nothing could subdue the nervous fluttering in her stomach. The nerves had been there from the moment she’d made the decision to leave Australia and return home.

From the moment she’d known she would be seeing Tom Hunter again.

She’d prepared herself for this moment for seven years.

But now it was here she was suddenly terrified that she’d let herself down. Reveal something that she didn’t want to reveal.

Feel something that she didn’t want to feel.

What would he look like now? Had her memory exaggerated his masculine appeal? Could any man truly be the god she’d believed him to be?

‘Anything you want to know, just ask me,’ Emma said cheerfully, oblivious to Sally’s anxiety. ‘I know you trained in this hospital, but you’ve been away a while and some things might have changed so I’ll give you a quick tour. We have two operating theatres, six traditional delivery rooms and four “home” rooms, as we call them. In other words, they’re supposed to make people feel that they’re actually in their own bedrooms.’

Sally laughed. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’

‘Well, my bedroom is buried under a ton of unwashed laundry and books that I intend to read at some point and haven’t got round to yet,’ Emma confessed cheerfully, ‘so the rooms certainly don’t look like my home. But I can dream.’

She pushed open a door and Sally followed her inside.

The room had a large double bed and a sofa covered in pretty scatter cushions. There were also magazines and a music system.

Sally gave a nod. ‘Nice. Cosy.’

Emma shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a compromise between giving birth at home and in hospital. Now, come and see the birthing pool.’

They left the room and Emma opened another door and flicked on some lights. ‘We have two, but the other one is in use at the moment.’

Sally walked into the room and looked at the pool. ‘You do a lot of water births?’ She knew that some of her medical colleagues had questioned the safety of water births. ‘The consultants are comfortable with that?’

Emma gave a wry smile. ‘Not all of them. The three older ones much prefer to just whip a woman into Theatre or yank the baby out with forceps the moment her labour starts to take longer than the books say it should. But attitudes are changing as younger consultants join the team.’ She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re ever planning on having a baby here, Tom Hunter is your man. He’s young but he’s brilliant. He has amazingly good instincts and nerves of steel. Unlike some I could mention, he isn’t frightened into C-sectioning everyone.’ Her tone was warm. ‘He thinks that a woman should be allowed to deliver by herself whenever possible and he does his best to let that happen.’

Sally slid a hand over the edge of the birthing pool, careful to hide her expression.

The knowledge that Tom was regarded as some sort of hero in the delivery suite clashed violently with her own negative attitude to the man.

She didn’t want to admire him. It would make it even harder to manage her emotions.

‘So he approves of the pool?’

‘For labour, but not delivery,’ Emma told her, leading the way out of the room and back down the corridor. ‘He also approves of aromatherapy, relaxation techniques and breathing.’

Realizing that some sort of response was expected, Sally managed a smile. ‘He sounds amazing.’

‘He’s very good with the women. Very skilled.’

Sally felt her insides twist viciously but kept her expression neutral. She knew exactly how skilled Tom Hunter was with women.

Swiftly she changed the subject. ‘So I’ll be working on the labour ward?’

‘That’s where we need you for now. We all move around the unit at times, and we try to give a woman a midwife that she knows, but you have a lot of labour ward experience and that’s the most important thing.’ Emma pushed open the door to the staffroom. ‘And this is the most important room on the labour ward. Better take a good look. You won’t get to see much of it.’

Sally walked over to the window and stared at the mountains, lost in their beauty, longing to be out there, walking or climbing. For her, life was a constant battle between her love of the outdoors and her love of midwifery.

She heard a heavy, male tread behind her and froze.

Even without looking she knew it was him.

She felt him.

They shared a connection that was beyond the physical. It had always been that way with them.

He’d truly been her other half. Until he’d torn them apart.

‘Hi, Tom. You’re just in time for a coffee and an introduction to our new midwife.’ Emma’s voice was bright and cheerful, like sunshine playing innocently in front of an approaching storm.

Reminding herself that she’d been rehearsing this exact moment for years, Sally turned, the expression in her green eyes cool and totally devoid of emotion as she brought into play all the skills she’d carefully developed.

He stood in the doorway, powerful legs spread apart in an arrogant pose, his blue eyes fixed on her with shimmering incredulity.

Sally felt the past slide over her like a suffocating cloak and with a determined effort she thrust it aside, reminding herself that the past was all about yesterdays and that she was only interested in today and tomorrow.

And neither was going to feature this man, even if he was straight out of a female fantasy.

And he was.

He’d always been indecently good-looking, she thought numbly, but age and maturity had added a hard edge to his masculinity that would make even the most cynical, man-wary female catch her breath.

And the combination of jet-black hair and blue eyes was a killer.

Resolutely she reined in her feelings, holding them close, reminding herself of the price of loving this man.

It was high. Too high.

She’d paid it once with interest and she wasn’t prepared to pay it again.

So she held that dark gaze steadily and noted the shock that he couldn’t quite conceal with a flicker of feminine satisfaction.

He hadn’t expected her to come home.

But she had. And he was going to have to live with that.

Like it or not, she was back.

And she was staying.

‘Hello, Tom.’ Her voice was cool and formal. Not a tremor, not a shake, not a flicker of emotion. She was proud of herself. ‘It’s been a long time.’

Tom braced his shoulders and tried to counter the shock wave that pulsed through his body.

He’d always known that one day Sally Jenner would walk into his life again. That he’d be forced to stare his past in the face.

Acknowledge the guilt.

It had been seven years and yet he still wasn’t able to remember their final encounter without breaking into a sweat.

He gritted his teeth, telling himself that he’d made the right decision for both of them, even though she hadn’t been able to see it at the time.

At first glance she seemed hardly to have changed. Still the same intriguing green eyes that flashed a hint of rebellion and challenge, still the slim legs, the narrow waist and the delicate curves. She looked as though a strong gust of wind would blow her over, but he knew better. Sally was fit and strong, probably the most athletic woman he’d ever met. She was an accomplished rock-climber, an impressive long-distance runner, and her wildness and courage had stolen his heart. In all the years he’d known her, he’d seen her cry only once.

And that had been the day he’d ended their relationship.

Looking at her soft, perfectly shaped mouth, Tom suddenly had trouble remembering why he’d done it, and he cursed mentally, wishing that he’d had time to prepare himself for her arrival.

Why the hell hadn’t someone told him that she was coming?

Warned him?

‘Does Bryony know you’re here?’

She’d been one of his sister’s closest friends and he knew that they’d kept in touch over the years.

One delicate eyebrow lifted a fraction and he saw the challenge in her green gaze. ‘Of course.’

He gritted his teeth. ‘She failed to mention it.’

‘She probably didn’t think you’d be interested.’

It was a less than subtle reminder that he’d been the one to cut her out of his life and Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck, seriously discomfited for the first time in his thirty-four years.

If he’d known she was coming back, he would have had time to prepare—would have somehow arranged for them to have their first meeting in private. Clearly there were things that needed to be said.

As if reminding them both that they weren’t alone, Emma gave a little cough.

‘You know each other?’ Her tone pulsed with a curiosity that she couldn’t hide and she glanced between them with interest.

Sally smiled, nothing in her expression suggesting that she was anything other than totally relaxed. ‘It was a long time ago.’

Her tone suggested a casual acquaintance of long standing, a relationship with no real attachment on either side.

Remembering the explosive passion they’d shared, Tom wondered how she’d managed to forget the incredible intimacies that had bound them together.

And then he looked into those cool green eyes and realized that she hadn’t forgotten.

Neither had she forgiven.

In those green eyes he saw disdain where there had once been adoration, contempt where that had once been unconditional love.

He drew breath slowly, shocked by how severely that contempt unsettled him.

And yet what had he expected?

Had he known she was coming, how would he have anticipated their reunion?

Sally Jenner had every reason to hate him.

‘I heard you were working in the Himalayas.’ Suddenly he wanted to know everything about her. Where she’d been, what she’d been doing. When she’d stopped crying over him.

‘Among other places.’ Her reply was intentionally vague and he saw the flash in those green depths and understood.

Mind your own business, her eyes said. What do you care, anyway?

‘And where are you living now?’

He needed to know. There were things he had to say to her and they certainly couldn’t be said in public.

She ignored his question, her gaze turning to Emma who was still watching them in awed silence. ‘Sorry. This must be very boring for you and I’m sure we need to get on with some work.’

Emma shrugged. ‘Well, if you two want to catch up, I can—’

‘Not at all,’ Sally interrupted her smoothly, moving away from the window and making her way towards the door. ‘We’ve said hello. It was nice to see you, Tom.’

With a few casually spoken words she’d dismissed him as unimportant and Tom wrestled with an inexplicable impulse to power her against the wall and remind her just what they’d shared.

But that would be a totally illogical response, of course, given that he’d been the one to walk away from their relationship.

He’d thrown their relationship away. So why was he now questioning that decision?

Because in thirty-four years he’d never met another woman who stirred his blood like Sally Jenner.

It was only after she’d left the room that he realized that she hadn’t said where she was living.

He narrowed his eyes. There was one person who would definitely know where she was living.

His sister, Bryony.

‘I can’t believe you know Tom,’ Emma breathed as they walked back down the corridor. ‘You didn’t mention it when I talked about him.’

‘It was a long time ago,’ Sally said smoothly, wishing desperately that she could escape for just five minutes to gather together her scattered emotions. But there was no chance of that.

Almost as soon as they left the staffroom, one of the other midwives appeared, looking stressed.

‘We’ve had two admissions in the last five minutes and one of them is Angela Norris. She’s in a state.’

Emma gave a sigh and turned to Sally. ‘Do you mind being thrown in at the deep end?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Angela isn’t going to be easy to look after. She’s only recently moved to the area and she’s going to need a lot of care and attention. This is her second baby. The first was born by Caesarean section and she was promised a section again in her last hospital, but Tom isn’t keen on sectioning women unless there’s no alternative. He’s told her that he wants her to aim for a normal delivery. She isn’t very happy about the whole thing, to be honest.’

Sally felt her whole body tense. ‘So …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Tom will be monitoring her?’

‘Oh, yes—he’ll keep a very close eye on her, especially if he’s concerned about that scar.’

Which meant that she’d be working with him right from the start, with no chance to collect herself.

Sally closed her eyes briefly. What was the matter with her? She’d had seven years to collect herself. How much longer did she need? And she’d always known that taking a job in his department would mean working closely with him. She’d decided that she needed that. If only to prove to herself that she was over him. She’d decided to confront her fears head-on.

And she was going to be fine, she told herself firmly.

He was just a colleague, nothing more. A colleague.

‘I’ll be very happy to look after Angela,’ she said firmly, smiling at Emma. ‘Let’s go.’

Angela was sitting on the bed in one of the rooms, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, a small suitcase at her feet. Her husband sat next to her, visibly tense as he held his wife’s hand and tried to calm her down.

Sally was by her side in an instant, her expression concerned as she slipped an arm around the woman, the need to comfort instinctive in her. ‘Don’t be upset,’ she urged softly, as she quickly introduced herself to the couple. ‘Whatever the problem is, we’ll sort it out together, I promise. This is supposed to be a happy, exciting time.’

Angela took a shuddering breath but her shoulders remained stiff under Sally’s gentle touch. ‘I really want a Caesarean section. It’s what I had last time. It’s what I was expecting. How can doctors say one thing in one place and something completely different in another? I just don’t understand it.’

Her eyes filled again and Sally frowned slightly. ‘I can see why that must be confusing, but the most important thing is to help you relax. Then we can talk about it.’

Angela fumbled for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I want a Caesarean,’ she said emphatically, and Sally nodded.

‘Can you tell me why?’

Angela closed her eyes and put a hand on her bump. ‘Because it’s safer. Oh, help, I’ve got another contraction coming.’

She screwed up her face and concentrated on her breathing while Sally encouraged her gently, smoothing her hand over the top of Angela’s bump so that she could feel the strength of the contraction.

‘That feels like a very strong contraction. Is it going off?’ She felt the tightness ease under her hand and Angela nodded.

‘Thankfully.’ She drew in a deep breath and sighed. ‘I didn’t have any of this with my first one.’

Sally reached for the notes and skimmed them quickly. ‘The baby was breech last time.’

‘That’s right. They told me I’d have to have a section right from the moment they found out, and the doctor told me at the time that if I had another baby that would be a section, too.’

‘Having a section last time doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal delivery this time,’ Sally said carefully, settling herself on the bed next to Angela. ‘And it isn’t necessarily safer, Angela. It depends on the circumstances. A Caesarean section is major abdominal surgery. Sometimes it’s safer for you and the baby, but generally if you can give birth the normal way then that’s preferable. Why don’t we get you settled and then we can have a proper chat?’

Angela took several breaths. ‘The doctor in my last hospital thought a section was the right thing for me. He said it was best.’

Sally took a deep breath. Best for whom? she wondered.

It was certainly true that some obstetricians were quicker to perform Caesareans than others, but the reasons for that weren’t always as clear cut as they might be.

‘All right,’ she said firmly, ‘this is what we’re going to do. I can completely understand that it must be very confusing for you having come from a hospital saying one thing to a hospital saying another …’

Angela looked at her. ‘And I don’t know anyone here,’ she muttered. ‘We had to move here because of Peter’s job. I knew all the midwives at the hospital in London. Here I don’t know anyone.’

Her husband looked racked with guilt. ‘I should never have taken the job.’

Angela sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s a good job, and you’ve always wanted to live here.’

‘A sensible man. This is a great place to live,’ Sally said lightly, taking Angela’s hand in hers and squeezing it firmly. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. I don’t know anyone either. I’m a very experienced midwife but this is my first day on this particular unit so we can bond together and keep each other company.’

Angela gave a wobbly smile. ‘But you’ll go off duty before the baby is born.’

Sally shook her head. ‘Not me. All that’s waiting for me at home is lots of unpacking and even more washing so, trust me on this, I’m looking for an excuse to stay at the hospital.’

‘Unpacking?’

‘I’ve been away for a while,’ Sally said with a smile. ‘I haven’t had a chance to settle back in yet.’

Emma cleared her throat. ‘I’ll leave the two of you together.’ She looked at Sally. ‘I’ll let Mr Hunter know that Angela is here.’

Angela sighed. ‘He’s the one who wants me to have it the normal way.’

Her husband took a deep breath. ‘The guy has a brilliant reputation, Angela. I’ve talked to a few people about him. I think you should listen to what he has to say.’

Sally was reading the notes again. ‘I agree with your husband. You need to have a proper talk with him, tell him how you feel.’

‘I’m useless with doctors,’ Angela mumbled. ‘They always intimidate me. Before they arrive in my room I have all these questions, and then once they’re standing there I can’t bring myself to ask any of them.’

‘Well I’ll be with you,’ Sally assured her, ‘and I’ll make sure that he answers all your questions and that you don’t feel intimidated. Let me know when you have another contraction because I want to listen to the baby’s heart.’

Angela screwed up her face and sucked in a breath. ‘I’ve got another pain coming now.’

Sally reached for the Sonicaid and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat echoed around the room.

‘That’s sounding good. Remember your breathing. That’s it. Great …’ Sally coached her gently, timing the contraction, and when Angela finally relaxed again she stood up. ‘Right. I’d like to examine you and see how your labour is progressing, and then I’m going to hook you up to one of our machines just for a short while. Then we’ll find Mr Hunter.’

And that was the bit that she wasn’t looking forward to.

Tom finished writing up a set of notes and glanced up to find Sally standing there.

His whole body tightened and he rose to his feet, his eyes fixed to hers.

For a moment they stared at each other, the clinical nature of their surroundings forgotten, tension pulsing between them like a living force.

Then she dragged her eyes away from his and took a deep breath.

‘I need to talk to you about Angela.’ Her tone was cool and professional, not a hint of the personal in her manner. ‘I’ve examined her and she’s four centimetres dilated, but it sounds as though she’s been in labour for a while. She’s very anxious. Her last obstetrician said that he was going to section her.’

His brain registered the fact that she was talking about work but the rest of his body was concentrating on something entirely different. His attention was caught by her seductively long lashes and by the fullness of her perfect mouth.

He’d been the first man to kiss that mouth.

The first man to—

With a determined effort he pulled himself together. ‘I’m not planning to section her. I scanned her two weeks ago to measure the thickness of the lower uterine segment and I was perfectly satisfied that she’s a good candidate for vaginal delivery this time round.’

‘Then you need to talk to her,’ Sally said calmly. ‘Because at the moment all she’s hearing is contradiction, and she has no reason to believe you are any more skilled than the last man she spoke to.’

Tom frowned slightly. ‘I talked to her when I scanned her. She was fine.’

‘She was confused and worried.’

‘She didn’t say anything.’

‘Verbally, perhaps not. But did you read her body language?’ Her eyes held his. ‘She finds doctors intimidating. She was afraid to question you.’

Tom tensed, significantly discomfited by her implication that he’d been insensitive to the needs of a patient.

But, then, why would Sally believe that he was capable of sensitivity?

He gritted his teeth and took the criticism on the chin. ‘Believe it or not, I do try to interpret what women are feeling. I certainly don’t want them worried by anything I’ve said.’

‘Well, she’s worried,’ Sally said flatly, ‘and at the moment she is totally convinced that what she needs is another C-section.’

Tom inhaled sharply. ‘Caesarean rates have been steadily increasing over the last two decades,’ he said harshly. ‘Eighty per cent of women can safely deliver vaginally after a previous section, providing they meet certain criteria.’

Her gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ Her voice was smoky and soft and curled around his raw emotions like the smoothest silk. ‘All I’m saying is that she’d been told she was having another Caesarean and then you told her she wasn’t, and she didn’t understand how two doctors could say such different things. She deserves an explanation. In fact, I’d go as far as to say she needs an explanation, otherwise she will be far too anxious to concentrate on her labour. She’s stressed and I’m sure you’re aware of the evidence that suggests that stress can reduce uterine activity.’

He listened, intrigued by the change he saw in her.

This wasn’t the Sally he’d known.

When had she developed such poise and confidence? he wondered, his eyes sliding over the determined jut of her chin and the set of her narrow shoulders. He could remember clearly a time when she’d hung on to his every word as if he were some sort of god. When she’d been so lacking in self-confidence that she’d barely been able to make a decision without help.

Now she stood her ground, challenging him to defend his decision without displaying a flicker of discomfort, every bit his equal.

‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said finally, slipping his pen into his pocket and closing the notes in which he’d been writing. ‘We’ll do it together. Then you can tell me if I’m insensitive.’

He strolled round the desk and saw her back away hastily, as if she was afraid that he might touch her.

The realization that he wanted to do just that came as a shock.

For a moment their eyes held, and if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of the labour ward, in full view of anyone who happened to pass, Tom would have kissed that soft mouth that he remembered so well.

He’d been addicted to her mouth. The look of it, the feel of it under his, the taste of it …

‘We need to talk, Sally,’ he said roughly. ‘In private.’

In fact, he realized with a sudden stab of shock that he wanted to do a great deal more than talk.

Something flickered in those green depths. ‘No.’ Her voice was low but firm and she glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if she was afraid someone might have overheard his comment. ‘We don’t need to talk.’

Tom drew in a long breath, finding it difficult to know how to respond to this new, confident Sally.

In the old days she would have talked.

In the old days she couldn’t get enough of him.

They’d talked for hours about everything and anything.

‘All right, then, I’ll talk and you can just listen. There are things I need to say to you.’

They couldn’t pretend that the past hadn’t happened.

If they were going to be able to work together effectively, then at the very least they needed to clear the air.

She looked at him. ‘You said everything that needed to be said on the last occasion we met.’ Her gaze was clear and direct and her voice was remarkably steady. ‘And I got your message, Tom. Loud and clear.’

CHAPTER TWO

SALLY turned and walked back along the corridor, her legs shaking and her heart thumping.

When she’d imagined meeting him again, part of her had wondered whether she would feel differently about Tom. Didn’t people often look back and wonder what they’d seen in their first love? She’d often wondered if that would be true of her. Would she look at Tom and wonder what all the fuss had been about?

But now she knew that the answer to that was no.

She could see exactly why she’d fallen for Tom and she knew that if she wasn’t careful, she could fall for him again.

He was the sexiest man alive, with those sharp blue eyes, that brilliant brain and that unshakable self-confidence that had been such a draw when she’d been an insecure teenager.

He’d always been strong in every sense of the word and he was still strong.

Reminding herself that she wasn’t insecure any more and that she didn’t need his strength, she lifted a hand to push open the door to Angela’s room, but a powerful arm slid in front of her and turned her round, backing her against the wall.

‘Don’t think you can avoid me for ever,’ Tom warned softly, his blue eyes burning into hers as he planted an arm to one side of her, reducing her opportunities for escape. ‘You chose to come back.’

He was too close.

She couldn’t cope when he was this close.

Her nose picked up the tantalizing male smell that was Tom, and desire, long dormant, uncoiled low in her pelvis.

She flattened herself against the wall, impossibly aware of the strength in his shoulders and the hardness of his eyes.

‘What are you implying?’ Her eyes sparked into his and she pushed the past to the front of her brain. She wasn’t doing this again. ‘That I came back to you? Don’t flatter yourself, Tom. I came back home. My friends are here. Friends I’ve missed. I have as much right to live here as you.’

The fact that her friends were also his friends and family was something that she didn’t want to think about right now.

In fact, she couldn’t think about anything much with him standing so close to her.

She wanted to move but she couldn’t.

Her body was pinned against the wall, trapped by the heat of his gaze and by her own weakness.

‘Which is why we need to talk. This is a small community, Sally. Everyone knows about our past relationship. Do you really think it’s something that we can ignore? We need to deal with it.’

She was painfully aware of the warmth and power of his body so close to hers, of the fact that if she moved even a fraction she would be in his arms.

And that was the last place in the world she wanted to be.

Suddenly she found the strength she needed.

‘We both dealt with it seven years ago, Tom,’ she said calmly, her steady voice totally at odds with the rapid beating of her heart, ‘and people will soon get used to the idea that our relationship is purely professional now. Excuse me. I need to get back to Angela.’

His eyes narrowed slightly but his arm dropped and he stood to one side.

Feeling totally shaken but determined not to show it, Sally walked into the room and smiled at the woman now comfortably settled on the bed.

‘How are you doing, Angela? I’ve brought Mr Hunter to have a word with you.’ Desperate for a few moments to collect her thoughts and calm her frantic pulse rate, she checked the CTG trace carefully. Then she glanced at Tom, her expression neutral, as if he were a consultant she’d only just met and not a man who had been the love of her life. ‘Do you want her to be continuously monitored?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Not for the time being. There’s no reason for it, providing we keep a close eye on everything.’ He smiled at Angela and settled himself on the edge of the bed. ‘It seems as though I owe you an apology.’ His voice was soft and his eyes shone with warmth as he looked at the anxious woman. ‘When I saw you a few weeks ago I told you that I wanted you to try and deliver this baby yourself. I obviously didn’t notice how worried you were.’

Angela shifted awkwardly. ‘It doesn’t matter …’

‘It matters,’ Tom said firmly, ‘and from now on I need you to promise that you’ll ask me about anything that worries you and we’ll talk about it together. Do you promise?’

Angela looked at him and a smile wobbled on her face. ‘All right.’

‘Good.’ Tom nodded and took the CTG trace that Sally handed him, his gaze flickering over the paper, interpreting the results. Then he handed the paper back to her and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s talk about Caesarean sections,’ he said quietly. ‘There are a few things that I should explain. It’s a major operation, Angela, and it is not the ideal way to have a baby if there are alternatives. When you had your first child, clearly the doctors thought that a section was the safest mode of delivery, but this time I think you should deliver vaginally.’

Angela licked dry lips. ‘And what if I can’t?’

‘I’m very confident that you can or I wouldn’t be suggesting it,’ Tom said calmly, ‘but Sally and I will be with you every step of the way, and if anything about your labour suggests that a Caesarean would be safer then I’ll section you.’

Angela glanced nervously at her husband. ‘We’ve read about uterine rupture …’

Tom nodded. ‘All right, let’s talk about that.’ His voice was deep and confident. ‘Firstly you should know that it is a very rare occurrence.’

‘But it does happen.’

‘It can do,’ Tom admitted, ‘which is why we very carefully select the women who we think can deliver vaginally after a section. The chance of a successful delivery is lowered if labour is induced, but you’ve gone into spontaneous labour so that’s good. I’ve also taken into account the type of incision that your obstetrician used last time and the way that the uterus was repaired. All of that makes me confident that you can deliver vaginally.’

Angela shifted slightly on the bed. ‘So why did my last consultant want me to have another section?’

Tom hesitated and it was Angela’s husband who answered.

‘I suppose doctors have different opinions about what’s best,’ he said gruffly, ‘but it seems to me that Mr Hunter is talking sense. And you know how sad you were not to have the baby naturally last time. You said as much at the time.’

Angela nodded. ‘I know.’ She put her hand on her scar protectively. ‘But I don’t want anything to go wrong.’

Tom took her hand. ‘I know you’re anxious, Angela,’ he said softly, ‘but I’m asking you to trust me. And to trust Sally.’ He glanced at her with a warm smile, nothing in his gaze suggesting that they were anything other than the closest of colleagues. ‘Sally will be with you the whole time and I will be popping in and out during the day. If we’re remotely concerned, we’ll think again, but I want us to aim for a vaginal delivery.’

He was confident and totally in control and Sally saw Angela relax.

It was a shame he didn’t have the same effect on her, she reflected helplessly. The closer Tom was, the tenser she became.

Angela gave a gasp as another contraction tore through her body and Sally waited for Tom to move so that she could sit with the mother and help her through it.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he placed a hand on the top of the mother’s uterus and felt the contraction, talking to Angela softly as he did so, encouraging her to breathe properly, reminding her what her body was doing.

Angela screwed up her face and grabbed Tom’s arm, her fingers digging hard into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch.

Sally watched him helplessly, part of her wanting him to do something wrong just so that it would be easier to hate him. She knew he could be hard and insensitive. She’d been on the receiving end of his ruthless streak. She didn’t want to see his soft side. Didn’t want to see any single part of him that made him attractive.

‘Good girl.’ His voice was warm with approval as he spoke quietly to Angela. ‘That was a strong contraction. You’re coping very well.’

Flushed from his praise and encouragement, Angela let out a long breath. ‘But I haven’t dilated much. If I don’t hurry up, are you going to induce me?’

Tom shook his head and stood up. ‘In this hospital, Angela, we meddle with nature as little as possible and with as much subtlety as possible. If I induce you, your contractions will be even stronger and that will put more strain on the uterus. For the time being we’re leaving it all to nature, but obviously we’ll be watching closely to make sure she doesn’t have any surprises in mind. Have you considered pain relief?’

‘No.’ Angela shook her head and glanced anxiously at her husband. ‘Because I thought I was having a section. I suppose I should just have an epidural.’

‘You could do that,’ Tom agreed, ‘but epidurals are not without their drawbacks. Why don’t you start off by trying our pool?’

Angela looked at him. ‘You mean a water birth?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t actually deliver in the water,’ Tom said, ‘but it’s certainly an excellent way of relaxing. Would you like to give it a try? Many women find that being in the water really helps them cope with the pain.’

Angela glanced at her husband and then nodded. ‘All right. Yes, I think I’d like that. I always fancied the idea but with the first one I always knew I was having a section from the start and so I didn’t think it would ever be an option for me.’

Tom smiled. ‘Well, it’s an option now. I’ll get someone to get one of our pools ready.’ He turned to Sally. ‘Any problems, call me. I’ll have a word with Emma.’

With that he strode out of the room, leaving them all staring after him.

‘He’s nice,’ Angela said immediately, shifting on the bed to try and find a more comfortable position. ‘Very confident. The sort of person you feel you can depend on.’

Sally moved the CTG machine out of the way, careful to mask her own feelings. She’d certainly depended on Tom a great deal. In fact, he’d been her whole life, and when he’d ended their relationship …

She pushed the memories aside and settled herself next to Angela. She wasn’t going to think about Tom. She was going to do her job and settle back down at home.

‘Do you have any children?’ Angela looked at her and Sally shook her head.

‘No. I’m not married.’

Angela laughed and rubbed her swollen stomach. ‘As if that makes a difference these days. Do you want children of your own?’

Once she’d wanted that more than anything else in the world.

Sally smiled. ‘One day, maybe,’ she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder with relief as Emma stuck her head round the door.

‘The pool’s ready for you. I’ve brought you a wheelchair.’

‘Thanks, Emma.’ Sally slid a hand over Angela’s uterus. ‘We’ll wait until after the next contraction and then we’ll make a move.’

Four hours later Angela was progressing well.

‘I love the water,’ she moaned softly, closing her eyes and breathing carefully as another contraction hit her. ‘It feels so soothing. And I love being able to move around.’

Sally checked the baby’s heart with the underwater Doppler, satisfied that everything seemed to be going well.

‘Why do you keep listening after the contraction ends?’ Angela’s husband had been by her side the whole way through, asking questions constantly.

Respecting his concern, given their previous experience, Sally had been careful to give him detailed answers to everything.

‘During a contraction blood can’t flow through the placenta so easily. Some babies are fine with that, but others may not be and their heart rate may be affected. It’s a sign that the baby is stressed. If it happens in the middle of the contraction and the baby’s heart recovers quickly, we don’t worry too much, but if a baby’s heart rate is affected after the contraction is finished then we need to keep an eye on it.’

He stroked a hand over his wife’s head and offered her a glass of water. ‘But in our case everything is fine?’

‘Absolutely.’ Sally removed the Doppler from the water and dried her hands. She had been monitoring Angela like a hawk, constantly alert to any signs that her scar might be threatening to rupture. ‘How are you doing, Angela?’

‘Fine. I love the water. I’m just anxious about what’s to come.’

There was a tap on the door and Tom strolled into the room dressed in theatre scrubs.

The loose cotton fabric emphasized the width and strength of his shoulders and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of dark chest hair.

Sally swallowed and concentrated her attention on Angela. She’d always adored his body. He was the most masculine man she’d ever met and she’d never been able to look at him without feeling her stomach lurch.

It seemed that nothing had changed.

She didn’t want to feel like this.

Hadn’t expected to feel like this.

Seven years of absence was supposed to have cured her of Tom Hunter.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to blot out the vision of those strong arms and that firm mouth, resenting the pull of attraction that tugged at her body.

She breathed in deeply and tried to focus her mind.

Better to acknowledge the attraction and control it than deny it and allow it free rein to consume her.

All right, so she was still physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?

It didn’t mean that she was going to be stupid enough to fall for him again.

There was no way she’d risk exposing herself to that degree of pain a second time.

Clearly oblivious to her internal battle, Tom walked across the room, his eyes on Angela.

‘How’s it going?’ His voice was velvety smooth and he crouched down by the pool, his eyes warm as they rested on the labouring mother. Despite having a punishing workload, he’d been in and out of the room all afternoon, checking on Angela and getting updates from Sally.

And Sally had to admit that he was good. Because he’d bothered to spend the time, Angela was now totally relaxed with him, and it was obvious that she trusted Tom implicitly.

‘All right, I think—’ Angela sucked in a breath and gave him a weak smile. ‘Not looking forward to the end bit, to be honest. I’m just worried that Sally will leave me and go home if I take too long.’

Sally smiled. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Home was Bryony’s cottage. A lonely reminder that she didn’t actually have anywhere that was hers.

But she’d sort that out, given the first opportunity.

She was off at the weekend and she’d already made arrangements to view a couple of places.

Angela looked at Tom. ‘She’s brilliant. So calm. Better than pain relief. Everyone in labour should have Sally.’

Tom looked at Sally and she saw something flicker in his blue gaze. ‘I agree,’ he said softly, ‘Sally is very special.’

But not special enough to prevent him from ending their relationship.

Flattened by painful memories, Sally straightened and walked over to the flickering candles that she’d lit earlier in an attempt to help Angela relax.

Tom followed her. ‘You’re happy with her?’ His eyes were searching and she nodded, looking away quickly from that disturbing blue gaze.

When he’d made love to her she’d always stared into his eyes. Had been unable to take her eyes off him, hypnotized by the wonder of being with Tom. Looking into his eyes had been the only way she’d been able to believe that she’d actually been living the fantasy. That this amazing man had wanted her.

And when he hadn’t wanted her any more she’d almost died.

The reduced lighting and his low voice created an atmosphere of such intimacy that she felt the breath lodge in her throat. It was the cruellest reminder of what they’d once shared.

She had to remind herself that they were standing in a delivery room with a labouring woman and she was suddenly tempted to blow out the candles and turn on every fluorescent light in the room.

‘The foetal heart rate is good and she’s contracting regularly. No tachycardia or any other signs that her uterus is in any way compromised.’

Tom nodded. ‘Good.’

‘Sally!’ Angela’s tone was suddenly sharp and panicky. ‘I want to push. All of a sudden …’

Sally was by her side in an instant, Tom forgotten. ‘Don’t panic,’ she said quietly, reaching for some towels that were warming. ‘I’m going to get you out of the water and examine you again. You weren’t even eight centimetres last time we checked so I doubt you’ve dilated that quickly.’

Angela groaned and clutched the side of the pool, her eyes tightly closed. ‘Can’t I stay in?’

Sally glanced at Tom but he gave a slight shake of his head. ‘I’d rather you had this particular baby on dry land.’

Angela gasped. ‘I don’t think I can move.’

‘Wait until this contraction has passed and then we’ll help you out.’

A few minutes later Angela was lying on the bed, wrapped in a warm dressing-gown.

Sally snapped on a pair of gloves. ‘Don’t push, Angela. I’m just going to see what’s happening. I don’t want you pushing until your cervix is fully dilated.’

‘I definitely want to push.’ Angela gave a gasp and stopped dead, her fingers biting into Sally’s arm. Oh …’

Tom frowned. ‘How dilated was she when she went into the pool?’

‘Four centimetres.’ Sally examined her carefully and then straightened up. ‘Obviously all that warm water and relaxation did the trick. You’re fully dilated, Angela, and the baby is nicely positioned. You can push whenever you like.’

She looked at Tom expectantly, wondering whether he intended to deliver the baby himself, but he gave a shake of his head.

‘Your delivery,’ he said softly, a faint smile on his hard mouth. ‘Obstetricians only get involved if they have to, and everything is looking fine from my point of view. But I intend to hang around and watch.’

Just in case something went wrong.

Ignoring that smile, Sally turned her attention back to Angela just as Emma popped her head round the door.

‘Do we have action?’

Angela gave a gasp and her husband stepped forward and took her hand.

‘Go on, abuse me,’ he groaned. ‘This is all my fault.’

Angela gave a tired laugh. ‘You can say that again. You and your stupid ideas. “Wouldn’t it be great to have another child?” were your exact words.’

‘Next time I say that you have full permission to hit me,’ her husband said, his tone full of remorse as he stroked Angela’s hair away from her damp forehead. ‘What can I do?’

‘Just be there.’ Angela closed her eyes and screwed up her face as another contraction hit and she pushed. ‘Oh—I never thought it would hurt this much!’

Sally showed her how to use the gas and air properly and Angela breathed in steadily.

Emma was by her side. ‘Do you need me, or are you staying, Mr Hunter?’

‘I want him to stay,’ Angela said quickly, her breath coming in pants. ‘Please, Mr Hunter. If something goes wrong, I want you to be there.’

‘Nothing is going to go wrong,’ Tom said, his voice deep and reassuring. But he didn’t leave the room. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow at Sally and Emma. ‘Well, if I’m becoming a midwife, you’d better give me some instructions.’

‘You can take the baby,’ Sally said stiffly, looking away from his disturbingly intense blue gaze and turning her attention back to the mother. ‘Well done, Angela. Won’t be long now.’

Angela gave a gasp. ‘Do I need to lie down? I don’t want to make it awkward for you.’

‘You can deliver in any position that feels comfortable to you,’ Sally assured her, adjusting her own position so that she could see what was happening more clearly.

‘I’ve got another contraction coming …’

‘It’s crowning,’ Sally said softly. ‘You’re doing so well, Angela. Try not to push now. I just want you to pant. Pretend you’re blowing out a candle, that’s it—great.’

Moments later Sally had safely delivered the head. She checked that the cord wasn’t around the baby’s neck and shifted her position slightly. ‘We’ll wait for the next contraction, Angela,’ she said, ‘and then this baby will be born.’

But it wasn’t.

The contraction came and Angela pushed again, but nothing happened.

With a feeling of unease, Sally encouraged Angela to change position but still nothing happened and she was aware that Tom had pulled on a pair of sterile gloves.

He nudged her to one side.

‘I want you to change position one more time for me, Angela.’ His voice was confident and reassuring as he explained what he wanted her to do. ‘I need you more upright—that’s it. It widens your pelvic outlet. And now I’m going to see if I can give this baby a hand.’

He worked his fingers carefully inside, did something that Sally couldn’t quite see and the baby came slithering out into his hands with an outraged yell.

‘You have a son, Angela.’ His voice was calm and relaxed. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Oh.’ Angela plopped down onto the bed, her expression dazed and delighted. ‘What happened then? What did you do?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ Tom said easily, handing her the baby carefully. ‘You did it all yourself. You were brilliant. Does it feel good?’

Angela stared down at the tiny baby in her arms and her eyes filled. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘It feels great.’

Sally blinked back tears and then cursed to herself as Tom gave her a searching look.

Bother. She always found childbirth emotional but the last thing she wanted to do was show that emotion in front of Tom.

An hour later, having handed Angela and her baby son over to the nurse from the ward, Sally went and picked up her bag and coat from the staffroom.

She felt totally exhausted.

It had been a long day, but she knew that it wasn’t the work that had left her feeling drained.

It was seeing Tom again.

She found deliveries emotional at the best of times, and having Tom working shoulder to shoulder with her on her very first day had left her shaken and tense. What she really needed was to climb. Climbing always relaxed her. It was the degree of concentration required, the knowledge that to allow the mind to wander for one second might result in a fall.

She stared out of the window, acknowledging the dark. It was too late to climb.

So she would need to find another way to escape. She needed to look elsewhere for relaxation and distraction from Tom.

She slid her arms into her coat and made for the door, her whole body tensing when she saw him standing there.

Her defences rose and her chin lifted. ‘Excuse me.’

‘No.’ He walked in and closed the door behind him, standing with his back to her only escape route. ‘I won’t let you avoid me, Sally.’

‘I can hardly be accused of avoiding you,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ve been working side by side with you for most of the day.’

‘And it’s been torture, hasn’t it?’ His voice was harsh and he breathed in deeply. ‘We need to talk about the past. About what happened between us. And we need to move on.’

‘It was seven years ago. And I’ve already moved on.’ She clutched her bag in front of her like a shield. ‘There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I can barely remember it.’

She shot him a look of pure indifference, one of the many looks that she’d been practising.

‘Is that so?’ His voice was soft and his blue eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. He was trying to penetrate that shield but her armour was strong, forged from the burning fires of pain and betrayal.

‘The past is just a memory,’ she lied smoothly, ‘and memories are easily forgotten over time.’

‘Well, you may have nothing to say on the subject, but I have plenty.’

‘Then that’s your problem, not mine. And now I’m going home. It’s been a long day.’ She walked up to him and lifted her chin, her eyes flashing into his. ‘Excuse me.’

There was a tense moment when she thought he was going to reach for her, but then the door behind him opened and he was forced to step aside.

Emma stuck her head round. ‘Oh, great, you’re still here.’ She smiled at Sally. ‘Bryony is on the phone. She said to tell you that she’s in the car park if you want a lift home.’

‘Thanks.’ Without glancing in Tom’s direction, Sally walked confidently out of the room, casting a smile at Emma. ‘See you tomorrow.’

She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want an intimate conversation. She just wanted him to treat her as a colleague, nothing more.

That was all she could cope with.

CHAPTER THREE

TOM watched the staffroom door close behind the two women and fought the temptation to put his fist through the window.

He was boiling with frustration, aggravated to the point of explosion by the less than satisfactory exchange with Sally. There were things he needed to say and she wasn’t allowing him to say them.

But could he really blame her for that?

He ran a hand over his face and cursed softly. All day he’d been aware of her and it had disturbed his concentration more than he cared to admit.

She’d always played havoc with his emotions.

He prowled over to the window and stared moodily down into the car park, his jaw tightening as he saw Sally opening the door of his sister’s car and sliding inside.

He saw a flash of long leg, a glimmer of blonde hair and then she vanished from sight.

For now.

He comforted himself with the fact that Sally Jenner wasn’t going anywhere. She’d made the decision to come home so she was obviously planning on staying around. Which meant that he had plenty of time to engineer the conversation he was determined to have.

His mouth tightened as he watched Bryony drive off.

And the first thing he was going to do was talk to his sister.

Sally settled into her seat and gave a self-satisfied smile. ‘Thanks for the lift. Excellent timing. It’s hard to make a dramatic exit on a mountain bike.’

Bryony caught the smile and laughed. ‘From the look on your face, I gather you won that round.’

Sally took a steady breath. ‘Well, I didn’t make a fool of myself. You would have been proud of me. I was Miss Cool.’

And somehow she’d managed to pretend an indifference that she hadn’t felt.

Seeing Tom had affected her even more than she’d imagined it would.

Bryony waited for her to fasten her seat belt and then drove off. ‘I would have liked to have seen his face when he saw you.’

‘He was shocked,’ Sally said softly, recalling the look in his eyes with a slight shiver. ‘And disconcerted, I think.’

‘Never seen my big brother disconcerted about anything before,’ Bryony said dryly, shifting gears and slowing down as she approached the exit of the hospital. ‘I wish I could have been there.’

‘Well, fortunately Emma was,’ Sally told her. ‘That wasn’t a meeting I would have wanted to have in private.’

‘So what did he say?’

Sally moistened dry lips. ‘He wants to talk.’

Bryony paused at the junction, her expression serious. ‘About what?’

‘The past, I suppose.’ Her eyes met her friend’s and Bryony pulled a face.

‘Well, that was to be expected.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Bry. It was bad enough when it happened, without reliving it. What can we possibly achieve by talking about it?’ Sally asked hoarsely, pulling her coat around herself with a slight shiver. ‘Can you turn the heating up in this car? It’s freezing.’

‘The engine will warm up in a minute,’ Bryony said absently, checking the traffic and pulling onto the main road. ‘And you know as well as I do that if my big brother sets his mind on something, he gets it.’

Sally lifted her chin and stared into the frosty darkness. ‘I can be as determined as him.’

In the past seven years she’d discovered reservoirs of strength in herself that she hadn’t known existed.

She wasn’t the same person who had run for cover when he’d rejected her.

Bryony sighed. ‘I know. Which means we’re in for fireworks.’ She gave her a sympathetic glance. ‘You may not want to talk, but if it’s what Tom wants then, trust me, you’ll be talking. He isn’t easily distracted when he wants something. You know that as well as I do.’

Of course she did.

It was that same single-minded approach that had made him such a respected obstetrician at such a young age.

Bryony sighed. ‘You’ll be fine, Sally. You’ve put him behind you.’

A long silence greeted her words and Bryony glanced at her friend in consternation. ‘Oh, no, tell me you’re not …’

‘No.’ Sally’s voice sounded croaky and she cleared her throat. ‘No, I’m not. But it was hard, Bry. Really hard. Even harder than I thought it would be.’

And she’d always known that seeing Tom again would be difficult.

Bryony reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Just take it a day at a time. What you need is a new love interest. I’m going to find you someone gorgeous to help take your mind off my brother.’

Sally shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’m better off on my own.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ Bryony pulled up outside her old cottage and switched off the engine. ‘Has there been anyone since Tom?’

Sally turned away, her eyes fixed out of the window. ‘Let’s just say he was a hard act to follow.’ She gave a sigh and then turned to Bryony with a bright smile. ‘But I’m working on it. Truly.’

Somewhere out there was a man who wouldn’t seem like second best.

She sat, lost in thought, and the silence stretched into infinity.

Finally Bryony spoke. ‘Are you truly going to be able to move on?’ Her tone was doubtful and Sally stirred.

‘I’ve moved on. I’m home,’ she said simply, undoing her seat belt and reaching for her bag. Suddenly she needed to be on her own. ‘Thanks for lending me the cottage. I’ll find somewhere of my own soon.’

‘No need,’ Bryony said with a frown. ‘Jack and I don’t use it any more. We were going to rent it out anyway. Does Tom know you’re staying here?’

Sally paused with her hand on the doorhandle. ‘No. He asked where I was living but I dodged the question.’

‘But it isn’t going to take him long to figure it out. What if he comes here?’

‘I hardly think he’s going to go to those lengths to have a conversation,’ Sally said with a faint smile. ‘Goodnight, Bry. Thanks for the lift.’

‘You left your bike at the hospital,’ Bryony reminded her. ‘I’ll pick you up in the morning.’

Smiling her thanks. Sally let herself into the cottage, flicked on the lights and walked through to the cosy kitchen, feeling the tension in her neck and shoulders.

It had been a hard day. Harder than she’d anticipated.

She’d known that the first meeting would be difficult, of course. Known that seeing Tom would be painful.

She’d expected to feel anger and contempt. Expected to dismiss him with a few well-rehearsed words.

What she hadn’t anticipated had been the race of her heart and the kick of her breathing.

Sally made herself a coffee and then sat down at the kitchen table, her hands coiled round the hot mug.

Tom Hunter was still a dangerously attractive man.

But he had no place in her life any more.

She wasn’t that careless with her heart.

Tom sat in his sister’s kitchen, tapping long fingers on the table.

‘She’ll be home in a minute, but I probably ought to warn you that you’re not flavour of the month,’ Jack said mildly, opening two beers and handing one to his friend.

Tom drank from the bottle and then banged it down on the table. ‘Did you know Sally was back?’

Jack settled himself opposite, his feet on the table. ‘No. If Bry wanted to keep it from you, she’s hardly going to tell me, is she?’

‘You’re her husband.’

Jack grinned. ‘And you and I have been best mates since primary school, Tom. Takes more than a woman to come between us, even if that woman is your sister.’

Tom sighed and rubbed long fingers over his aching temples. ‘I wish someone had warned me.’

‘Why?’ Jack took a slug of beer. ‘I thought you weren’t interested in her anyway.’

Tom reached for his beer. He’d thought that, too.

But seeing her again had unsettled him more than he would have thought possible.

Being on the receiving end of her cool indifference had made him feel as though he’d lost something special.

At that moment the kitchen door flew open and Bryony stalked into the room, her whole manner confrontational.

Tom rose to his feet, his own gaze equally accusing. Ordinarily they were as close as a brother and sister could be, but tonight they glared at each other like enemies.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that she was coming back?’ Tom’s voice was hard and Bryony’s gaze was equally hard as she met her brother’s eyes.

‘And good evening to you, too, Tom.’ She leaned forward and kissed Jack, her expression softening slightly. Then she straightened and shrugged out of her wool coat.

‘You should have told me she was coming back,’ Tom snarled, and Bryony lifted an eyebrow, refusing to be intimidated by the dangerous light in her brother’s eyes.

‘Why? What reason did I have to believe you even cared? You ended it, remember?’

Colour touched Tom’s cheekbones and his jaw tightened. ‘That is none of your business.’

‘It’s my business when you expect me to help you smooth the path with her.’

‘I can’t change the past.’ Tom sat back down in his chair and reached for his beer. ‘And Sally and I need to move on. We can’t do that if we don’t have a conversation. We need to clear the air.’

‘You mean you need to make yourself feel OK about what you did.’

Tom tensed, realizing with a considerable amount of discomfort that she was right. His conscience was troubling him. And he had a feeling that a conversation wasn’t going to cure his problem.

‘I did what I thought was right at the time.’

‘Right for her or right for you?’ Bryony put her hands on her hips, her expression disapproving, and Jack frowned.

‘Bry, this really isn’t our business.’

Bryony ignored him, her eyes still on her brother. ‘You drove her away and now you’re expecting her to be pleased to see you again.’

‘I’m not expecting that.’ Tom cursed softly and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘And I didn’t drive her away. She left.’

‘Because of you! Because you didn’t want her and she couldn’t live in this small community alongside a man who’d rejected her. Do you know your problem?’ Bryony glared at him. ‘You just can’t bear the fact that there’s a woman in the world who doesn’t think you’re God’s answer to romance. You broke Sally’s heart but you want her to say, “That’s fine, Tom.” Well, it isn’t fine!’

Tom’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re being emotional about this.’

Bryony gave a growl of feminine frustration. ‘And you’re being ice cold, as usual! Show a modicum of sensitivity here, Tom Hunter! You decided you didn’t want her. End of story.’

It wasn’t the end of the story.

Not by a long way.

It had been so much more complicated than that.

‘You should have told me she was back.’

‘Why would I do that? I assumed it would be of no interest to you.’

Tom gritted his teeth. ‘Sally and I were together for almost three years, for goodness’ sake. Of course I would have been interested in the fact that she was back.’

‘You drove her away, so I assumed her return was a matter of the same indifference to you.’

Tom closed his eyes briefly and muttered something under his breath. ‘Whose side are you on?’

‘Sally’s,’ Bryony replied sweetly. ‘And if you want my opinion, she should have blacked your eye seven years ago when she found you with that—that—tart!’

Jack winced. ‘Sweetheart, you—’

‘Don’t sweetheart me!’ Bryony glared at her husband. ‘Tom behaved horribly to Sally.’

‘I wasn’t with anyone,’ Tom gritted, ‘I went on one date with another woman, that’s all! One date and it was after Sally and I had split up. After we’d agreed to see other people.’

‘You’d agreed to see other people,’ Bryony reminded him coldly. ‘Sally was so devastated she just sat in her flat broken into tiny pieces.’

Tom winced at the description. ‘It was the wrong time for both of us and we were in an impossible situation, Bry, as you would realize if you took the emotion out of it and looked at it logically.’

‘And if you took the logic out of it and looked at it emotionally, you might stand some chance of sustaining a relationship with a woman!’ Bryony glared at him. ‘You threw away something really special. You’re as bad as Jack!’

‘Hey!’ Jack put a hand on his chest, totally affronted. ‘I married you!’

Bryony breathed out heavily. ‘Only because I told you some home truths,’ she said bluntly. ‘If I’d left it to you, you’d still be dating half of Cumbria. You were so afraid of emotional involvement I virtually had to tie you up and beat you before you’d agree that you loved me.’

Jack gave her a sexy wink. ‘I’m not sure you should be revealing the details of our bedroom antics to your brother, darling.’

Bryony pulled a face. ‘What I’m saying, as you well know, is that both of you have spent the best part of your adult lives avoiding commitment. Of course Sally doesn’t want a conversation with you, Tom. Why would she? You lost that right when you started dating other people.’

Tom sighed. ‘You make it sound like a crime, but we weren’t together any more, Bry.’

‘That’s right.’ Bryony’s tone was chilly. ‘You weren’t. You left the rest of us to clear up the mess.’

‘I tried to see her, to check that she was all right.’

‘Well, of course she wasn’t all right! And she didn’t want your pity!’

Tom gritted his teeth and drew in a steadying breath. ‘Do you realize how contradictory you’re being?’

Jack groaned out a warning. ‘For goodness’ sake, don’t tell her that.’

‘Well, on the one hand she’s telling me I left her to comfort Sally, and on the other she’s telling me that Sally wouldn’t have wanted me around anyway.’

Bryony scowled at him. ‘You behaved badly!’

Jack yawned and reached for his beer. ‘OK, honey, give the guy a break. He’s not the first person to have ended a relationship that wasn’t working. I think we should all move on.’

‘That is precisely what I’m trying to do,’ Tom said harshly, ‘only Sally won’t give me the chance to discuss it. Perhaps I ought to tell her that she’s allowed to black my eye if it will make her feel better.’

In fact, he half hoped she would. Perhaps it would ease his conscience.

Bryony plopped down on the chair next to Jack and gave a sigh. ‘I don’t think it matters what you promise,’ she said wearily. ‘You’re not going to find it easy to get near her. She doesn’t want to talk to you.’

And why was that?

Tom’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his sharp brain clicking into action. Surely if Sally was as indifferent to him as she was pretending, then one conversation was hardly going to cause a problem. She could just listen and then walk away.

Unless she was afraid that the walking away would be hard.

Jack lifted his beer. ‘Never was easy to get near to Sally Jenner. She always kept people at a distance.’

Except him. Tom frowned.

He was the one person who’d been allowed to get close to her.

‘And can you blame her for that?’ Bryony defended her friend quickly. ‘She spent her childhood moving from foster-home to foster-home, with no security and no one she could trust or love.’

Tom shifted uncomfortably.

Sally had trusted him. And she’d loved him. Until he’d betrayed that trust and thrown her love back in her face.

‘This is a small community,’ he said finally, draining his beer and standing up. ‘Sally and I need to clear the air if we’re going to be able to work together. Are you going to tell me where she’s living, Bry?’

Bryony kept her eyes on the table. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I can’t.’

Tom cast an exasperated look at Jack who shrugged helplessly.

‘Women.’ He winked at his wife. ‘Especially blonde women.’

Tom gritted his teeth, his sense of humour less in evidence. ‘You know me well enough to know that I’ll track her down sooner or later.’

Bryony looked at him. ‘But it will have been without my help.’

‘You’re making things more difficult.’

‘Difficult was what you did to her seven years ago,’ Bryony said stiffly. ‘Think about that while you’re preparing your speech, big brother.’

Tom picked up his jacket and nodded to Jack. ‘Thanks for the beer.’

‘Any time,’ Jack said mildly, ignoring his wife’s glare. ‘Any time. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.’

By the time she arrived at work the next morning, Sally was back in control.

The first meeting was always going to be difficult, she assured herself, stuffing her bag into her locker and making her way onto the labour ward.

From now on it could only get easier.

Having made that assumption, it annoyed her intensely to find that her heart missed a beat when she saw Tom walking towards her down the corridor with that loose-limbed stride that had always set her heart racing.

His eyes were tired and the roughness of his darkened jaw suggested that he’d been up for most of the night.

‘Good morning.’ He gave her a smile that made her catch her breath and she automatically shut down her feelings.

She didn’t want to respond to that smile.

Didn’t want to acknowledge the curl of awareness low in her pelvis.

‘Busy night?’

‘You could say that.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Why don’t babies keep regular hours?’

Sally shrugged, intending to pass him, but he caught her arm and pulled her close to him, his voice low and meant only for her.

‘If Emma hadn’t interrupted us, we would have had that conversation last night. How long do you think you can keep running, Sally?’

She drew breath, forcing herself to ignore the strength of his fingers on her arm. ‘I’m not running, Tom.’ She stepped neatly away from him, forcing him to release her. ‘I’m walking. And we wouldn’t have had a conversation. I don’t want one.’

‘Why? I’m offering you the opportunity to shout at me or black my eye.’

She gave a faint smile. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘Because I probably deserve it.’

She stilled. Was he apologizing? Was he admitting that he’d been wrong?

‘You made the decision that was right for you, Tom.’

His jaw tightened. ‘It was right for both of us.’

So he didn’t think he’d been wrong.

He’d never regretted it.

A rush of emotion threatened to choke her but she held his gaze steadily and her voice was chilly. ‘In that case, what is there to talk about?’

He sucked in a breath and looked uncertain, obviously thrown by her response. It occurred to her that it was the first time she’d ever seen Tom anything other than supremely confident. ‘I just know I need to talk to you.’

Sally shook her head. ‘There’s nothing to be gained from rehashing the past. What happened, happened. It’s done. You made the decision for both of us. I had no choice but to go along with that.’

Without waiting for his answer, she slid past him and carried on up the corridor without looking back, trying to control her heart rate.

She had no doubt that sooner or later he would force her into the conversation that he was obviously determined to have. But she was determined to postpone the moment for as long as possible.

‘Good morning.’ She smiled at Emma who was collecting a set of notes from the desk. One glance at the whiteboard told her that she was in for a busy day. ‘Where do you want me?’

‘Can you divide yourself into four?’ Emma rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve rung down to the ward to ask for some help up here. Everyone seems to have gone into labour at once.’

‘Isn’t that always the way?’ Sally reached for the nearest set of notes. She didn’t mind being busy. All she asked was that today’s mother-to-be would have a normal delivery. She didn’t think she could face another day working side by side with Tom.

‘Perhaps you could take Charlotte Knight,’ Emma said, staring at the board with her eyes narrowed. ‘She’s four centimetres dilated and she’s asking for an epidural. She seems to have made up her mind so I’ve put in a call to the anaesthetist.’

Sally nodded. ‘You do a lot of epidurals here?’

‘Not if we can help it.’ Tom’s deep, male voice came from behind them and Sally felt her heart miss a beat. She hadn’t heard his approach. ‘There is little doubt that epidurals are associated with longer labours, more use of oxytocin and more use of forceps and ventouse. We add in opiates and reduce the bupivacaine dose, which allows some mobility while maintaining adequate pain relief, but even so there is an increased rate of instrumental delivery. If we can encourage the mother to use a different sort of pain relief, we do.’

‘Well, I failed with her, I’m afraid,’ Emma said gloomily, spreading her hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘I suppose it might be worth Sally giving it a try. You might have more luck.’

Sally tucked the notes under her arm and looked at Tom. ‘I thought most obstetricians were more than happy to dive in with instruments. It’s what you love doing.’

‘Women are designed to give birth,’ Tom said calmly. ‘Given the right amount of support and encouragement and some patience on our part, most of them manage it extremely well by themselves.’

‘Aren’t you rather talking yourself out of a job?’ Sally gave a faint smile and he shrugged.

‘Believe it or not, I already have more than enough work to keep me from my bed at night.’ He nodded to Emma. ‘And on that note, I’m off to do a ward round then I’m going to bed, if I can remember where it is. It’s so long since I last saw it that I may have trouble remembering, and I’m supposed to be working again tonight so there’s not much hope of seeing it then either. You can call me if you need me.’

He strode off, leaving Emma staring after him wistfully. ‘You see what I mean? Other doctors grab a woman as soon as she steps onto the labour ward and before you know it she’s had her waters broken, a drip up and she’s being given oxytocin. Tom lets a woman get on with it. He’s wonderful. And he doesn’t let the hospital management bully him into pushing patients through as fast as possible. Tom always says that labour takes as long as it takes.’ She gave Sally a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. You’ve probably guessed that I’d have his babies by now if he asked me.’

Sally felt a sharp flash of pain. She would have had his babies, too.

‘Not that I seriously entertain any hopes in that direction,’ Emma said lightly. ‘Our Mr Hunter is a workaholic. No time for a serious relationship. Was he like that when you knew him?’

‘Probably.’ Sally’s smile was noncommittal. ‘It was a long time ago.’

Seven years, six weeks, three days and seven hours to be precise.

‘Anyway …’ Emma waved a hand towards one of the delivery rooms ‘… go and have a chat with Charlotte. See if you can persuade her to try something different.’

‘Did you discuss the pool?’

‘She wasn’t keen.’

‘Aromatherapy?’

Emma shook her head. ‘She didn’t seem the type, but by all means go ahead. Tom would love you for ever if you manage to talk her out of an epidural.’

Sally picked up the notes and walked down the corridor, trying not to remember that at one point in her life she’d truly believed that Tom’s love would last for ever.

But she’d been wrong.

Pushing away painful memories, she opened the door to the delivery room and smiled at the woman on the bed.

‘Charlotte?’ She put the notes down on the side and walked across the room. ‘I’m Sally. I’m your midwife.’

The young woman was clutching the edge of the bed and breathing rapidly. ‘This is agony. I want an epidural.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Sally said immediately. ‘We’ve called the anaesthetist, but while we’re waiting for him I just want to try a few things with you to help you relax. You’re very tense, Charlotte, and that will make the pain worse.’

She talked quietly to the woman, calming her down, and then she dimmed the lights slightly and settled her in one of the chairs.

‘Do you like massage?’

The woman made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. ‘I love it. But I can’t afford it very often since I gave up work.’

Sally smiled and picked up one of her bottles of essential oils. ‘Then you’re in luck. I’m part of the service. I’m just going to do your neck and shoulders to try and relieve the tension. If you get a contraction and you want me to stop, let me know.’

She smoothed her hands over the woman’s skin and Charlotte gave a moan of pleasure. ‘That feels amazing.’

Sally carried on massaging her, feeling the young woman gradually relax.

As each contraction came she helped her breathe properly and gradually Charlotte became calmer.

‘You’re coping really well,’ Sally said quietly. ‘Are you sure you want that epidural?’

Charlotte opened her eyes. ‘I don’t think I can cope without it.’

‘You are coping. You’re coping really well. And there are other things that we can try as well.’

Charlotte stirred and looked at her husband, ‘What do you think?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s up to you, love. Whatever you feel is best.’

‘You don’t have to decide now,’ Sally said, her hands still stroking the woman’s back. ‘Why don’t we just delay the anaesthetist for a bit and see how we get on?’

Charlotte gave a sigh and closed her eyes again. ‘All right.’

Sally spent the rest of the afternoon with Charlotte, keeping her as relaxed as possible, encouraging her and helping her breathings. As the contractions grew stronger, she used different aromatherapy oils and soothing music and helped Charlotte to breathe the gas and air.

‘I can’t believe she isn’t screaming for an epidural,’ Emma muttered, when Sally nipped outside for a quick break. ‘You’re a miracle worker.’

‘I’m not.’ Sally downed a glass of water quickly, reluctant to leave Charlotte for too long. ‘I think someone had just persuaded her that an epidural is the answer. I don’t think she’d even considered other options.’

She went back to Charlotte and stayed there until early evening when she nipped out to take a phone call from Oliver Hunter, Tom and Bryony’s brother, inviting her over that evening to meet his new fiancée.

‘It’s great that you’re home, Sally. The whole gang is back together at last. Come and have supper,’ he said easily, his tone as warm and friendly as ever. As if she hadn’t been away for seven years with no contact.

Sally gave a soft smile as she held the phone. Oliver always had been the more friendly of the two brothers. Open and straightforward, where Tom was complex and brooding.

Why couldn’t she have fallen for Oliver?

Life would have been so much more straightforward if she had.

‘So will you come?’

Sally’s hand tightened on the receiver. Was it really possible to pick up the strands of friendship as if she’d never dropped them?

Suddenly she felt awkward. Awkward that she’d abandoned them all. But it had been the only way. If she hadn’t cut the ties, she never would have survived. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll finish here …’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Oliver said immediately. ‘Come over whenever. Bry and Jack are coming, and a few others. I’m trying to integrate my Helen into the community.’

Sally hesitated, wanting to know whether Tom would be there but not able to form the question.

To ask the question would make it look as though she cared.

And, anyway, hadn’t he said that he was working?

‘I’ll be there,’ she said quickly, not giving herself the chance to think about the invitation any further. It would be nice to go out. Nice to see Oliver again.

She went back to Charlotte and in virtually no time she was fully dilated and ready to push.

Sally called for Emma and together they quietly delivered the baby with the minimum of fuss and bother.

‘Well done, Charlotte,’ Sally said quietly as she handed the baby to her very tired but very proud mother. ‘You were amazing.’

‘I can’t thank you enough.’ Charlotte gazed down at her baby daughter and tears filled her eyes. ‘And I did it all by myself.’

‘That’s right.’ Sally smiled. ‘All by yourself.’

Emma sniffed. ‘And that’s the way it should be done.’

‘Another long day.’ Sally changed into her jeans and a jumper the exact colour of her eyes, slammed her locker shut and pocketed the key. ‘See you tomorrow, Emma.’

She ran down the stairs to the bike rack at the back of the unit and grabbed her mountain bike.

It was a cold, clear evening and she rode fast, chasing away the pressures of the past few days, enjoying the bite of winter air against her cheeks.

Oliver answered the door with a smile. ‘Sally!’ He stepped forward and hugged her tightly. ‘It is so good to see you. We’ve missed you.’

Touched by the warm welcome, Sally hugged him back. She’d missed her friends so much, but she hadn’t truly realized how much until she’d had the letter from Bryony. Her thoughts about home had always been dominated by Tom, and somehow along the way she’d forgotten just how many longstanding friendships she had in this small community.

For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed herself the rare treat of being held by someone, and then she pulled away and reached up to kiss his cheek, handing him the bottle of wine she’d brought with her.

‘Congratulations. Bryony tells me you finally met Miss Right. The women of Cumbria must be in mourning.’

Oliver grinned. ‘The fells are littered with sobbing females. Come and meet Helen. Everyone’s in the kitchen.’

Sally followed him through to the kitchen, smiling at Jack and Bryony and sniffing appreciatively. ‘Smells good, Oliver.’

A pretty blonde girl stepped forward, a smile on her face as she greeted Sally. ‘I’m Helen and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ Sally glanced between them. ‘I’m really delighted for the two of you. I hear you met at Bryony’s wedding two months ago?’

‘That’s right.’ Oliver slipped an arm round Helen’s shoulders and hugged her. ‘We’re getting married in two weeks’ time and before you ask the obvious question, no, she isn’t pregnant but if I have my way she will be soon.’

Helen gave a shocked gasp and gave Oliver a little push. ‘Oliver, that’s awful! You shouldn’t say things like that in company!’

Her face was scarlet with embarrassment and Oliver cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

‘That depends on the company.’ His tone was smug and his blue eyes twinkled. ‘This lot have always known I want a hundred children so it’s time we got started.’

Genuinely pleased that they were so happy, Sally managed a smile and tried to ignore the ache in her heart.

It would happen to her, she told herself firmly.

One day it would happen to her.

‘Have a drink.’ Oliver handed her a glass of wine and then tilted his head as the doorbell rang. ‘Be an angel and get that for me, Sal, while I finish cooking.’

The years fell away.

Suddenly she was ‘Sal’ again, and it felt good. Comfortable and safe.

During her childhood, being with Bryony, Oliver and Tom had been the nearest she’d come to belonging anywhere.

The nearest she’d had to family.

Suddenly she was glad that Bryony had married Jack. If she hadn’t, would she herself ever have found the courage to come home? Preoccupied, Sally walked to the front door and tugged it open, her smile of greeting fading as she found herself face to face with Tom.

CHAPTER FOUR

HE WAS dressed in black leathers, his motorbike helmet tucked under one arm, the dark stubble on his jaw an indication that he’d left the hospital in a hurry. He looked dark and dangerous and his blue gaze locked on hers in blatant challenge, his mouth tightening as their eyes met.

Her heart stumbled and her stomach lurched but her instinct to close the door and pretend that there was no one there was curbed by the knowledge that this wasn’t her house. She had no right to shut him out of his brother’s home.

And she really didn’t want him to know that she cared that much.

It was the one thing that stopped her dropping her glass and reaching for her coat.

Pride.

She was no longer so weak and pathetic that she believed that she couldn’t exist without Tom Hunter in her life.

Calling on inner reserves, she reminded herself that part of coming home had been to confront what she’d felt for Tom, and she couldn’t do that by avoiding him.

Avoiding him implied that she still felt something for him, and she wasn’t that foolish.

‘Well?’ A faint smile of self-mockery touched his firm mouth. ‘Are you going to slam the door in my face?’

The fact that she’d considered doing exactly that brought a trace of colour to her cheeks and she stepped to one side to let him in, careful that her gaze revealed nothing.

‘I hope I’m not that uncivilized, Tom.’

She wanted to ask why he wasn’t working, but stayed silent. She didn’t want him knowing that she cared that much or that she’d taken that much notice of what he’d told her earlier.

‘I want to talk to you, Sally.’ He unzipped his jacket and she flinched, her eyes drawn instinctively to his chest and then away, fixing on some point in Oliver’s hallway.

She forced herself to resist the command in his tone. She’d been making her own decisions for years now and she intended to carry on doing so. To listen to what he had to say would risk being sucked back into the darkness from which she’d fought so hard to escape.

‘There is absolutely nothing that you and I need to talk about, and this is supposed to be an evening spent with friends,’ she replied calmly, turning away from him with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘I haven’t seen Oliver for years and I want to get to know Helen.’

Strong fingers caught her wrist and swung her back round to face him. ‘And you and I no longer share the category of friends?’

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

Friends?

Once he’d been everything to her. Her friend, her lover—her world.

His fingers tightened and she felt his touch with every fibre of her being. Her traitorous body yearned for more. Yearned for everything this man was capable of giving.

And then she remembered that he wasn’t capable of giving enough.

He hadn’t been able to make that commitment to her.

And neither had anyone else in her life.

And she’d finally learned to live her life alone, depending on no one.

‘Of course we can be friends.’ Her answer was suitably bland. ‘After all, we’re working together.’

‘That’s colleagues,’ he replied softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘Friendship is something completely different. We had it once.’

‘And I seem to remember that you decided that you no longer valued that friendship.’ She gave a cool smile to indicate that the conversation was over, ignoring the traitorous thump of her heart. ‘Oliver is handing out drinks in the kitchen. If you don’t want to miss out I suggest you move quickly.’ With a determined twist of her wrist she freed herself and walked towards the kitchen with a determined stride, feeling his frustration with a faint flicker of satisfaction.

Not everything goes your way, Tom Hunter.

She walked back into the kitchen and said, ‘Tom’s here,’ in her most casual voice, and then proceeded to top up her glass of wine.

There was a tense silence and Bryony put her hands on her hips and glared at Oliver. ‘You invited Tom?’

‘Why not?’ Oliver’s tone was calm. ‘He’s my brother. I refuse to stop socializing with him just because he used to go out with Sally. It’s been seven years, for crying out loud. It’s history. We all need to move on.’

‘But—’

‘Hush, Bry,’ Sally said quietly, reaching out and squeezing her friend’s shoulder to reassure her. ‘Oliver’s right. It’s fine.’

And it was fine. She was totally in control.

She’d always known that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Tom. And she didn’t want to.

What she wanted was to work and live in a community alongside him and not feel anything.

Bryony rubbed her fingers over her temples, visibly stressed, and Oliver glanced towards the door where Tom was leaning, listening to the exchange in silence, his handsome face devoid of expression.

He’d removed his leathers to reveal a pair of snugly fitting jeans and a black jumper that simply accentuated his masculine looks.

He looked dark and dangerous and just about as sexy as it was possible for a man to be.

‘I can’t understand why you use the motorbike in winter.’ Oliver’s tone was mild. ‘It’s freezing out there and it worries Mum.’

‘I’ve been worrying Mum since I was able to walk,’ Tom drawled, strolling to the fridge and helping himself to a bottle of beer. ‘And I like the fresh air. Good evening, Bryony.’

Ignoring the irony in his tone, Bryony glared at him and Oliver sighed.

‘You’re destroying the atmosphere of my dinner party,’ he said mildly. ‘Sort it out, bro, or we’ll all get indigestion.’

‘I intend to sort it out.’ Tom pushed the fridge door shut, his eyes on Sally. ‘So what do you say, Sally? Can we work together and socialize together without creating an atmosphere?’

Sally tensed, her fingers gripping the stem of her wineglass so tightly that it was in danger of snapping.

He stepped towards her, his gaze only for her. ‘My sister thinks you should hit me. So do it, Sally.’

She felt smothered by his closeness, by his overwhelming masculinity. She took a deep breath and then wished she hadn’t because his tantalizing male smell filled her head and clouded her senses. She had only to lift a hand to touch him but she kept both hands firmly by her sides and stared at the floor.

She decided to let him speak. If she let him speak then he’d leave her alone.

‘I don’t want to hit you.’

‘You should. It would make Bryony feel better. And stop looking at the floor.’ Tom lifted his hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘I want you to look at me.’

Startled by his touch, she stood without moving, staring into her past, feeling the brush of his fingers on her sensitized skin.

She’d loved this man so much.

‘I’m sorry, Sally.’ His voice softened with genuine regret. ‘Sorry for hurting you so badly.’

Those blue eyes drew her in and she struggled against the powerful sexual attraction that still existed between them.

With a monumental effort she broke the contact. First the emotional, then the physical.

Shutting herself down, she stepped backwards.

‘You did what you believed was right,’ she said lightly, managing what she hoped was a dignified smile. ‘And it’s in the past. Oliver’s right—we’ve all moved on. The future is what’s important now.’

And her future wasn’t going to feature this man.

She would never allow herself to be so vulnerable to hurt and pain again.

She lifted her chin and looked at Oliver. ‘When are we eating? I’m starving.’

There was a collective sigh of relief around the room and everyone started talking again.

Everyone except Tom.

His eyes were firmly fixed on Sally, his blue gaze narrow and assessing as he looked at her.

Instantly she turned away, determined not to allow him access to her thoughts.

He’d always been good at reading her.

Too good.

That amazing bond of understanding had been fundamental to the powerful chemistry they’d shared. And it had made it even harder when he’d ended the relationship.

People had come and gone from her life before, but none of them had understood her as Tom had, and it had made the loss even greater.

Determined to normalize the situation, she quickly involved Bryony in a discussion about her new role as a GP registrar.

‘I’ve only been doing it for a month.’ Bryony held out her glass so that Oliver could top it up. ‘I’m just grateful I haven’t got Oliver as my trainer. It would be only marginally worse than working with Jack.’

‘Confronting perfection on a daily basis can be challenging,’ Jack agreed sympathetically, his expression solemn as he looked at his wife.

‘Don’t start,’ Bryony warned, glancing over her shoulder to the Aga. ‘Something’s about to boil over, Helen.’

Helen gave a gasp and dashed to retrieve the pan while Oliver laughed. ‘OK, everybody out! We’re distracting her. Table’s laid in the conservatory. Helen and I will finish up here.’

He ushered them out of the kitchen while Helen drained the vegetables and removed the plates from the warmer.

Wishing she could have stayed in the relative safety of the kitchen, Sally walked into Oliver’s huge glass conservatory and eyed the table warily. Bryony and Jack sat down together on one side of the table, still in mid-argument, which meant that, wherever she sat, she’d be near Tom.

She almost laughed. Of course she’d be near Tom. The table was laid for six. How could she not be near him? And with everyone else in couples, how could this not be intimate?

She was just contemplating whether it would be less nerve-racking to sit opposite him or next to him when Tom settled himself in a vacant chair and looked at his sister.

‘So are you going to the training session tomorrow night?’

Relieved that she wasn’t the focus of attention, Sally slipped into the seat next to Tom, deciding that at least that way she wouldn’t have to look at him.

‘Yes.’ Bryony reached for a bread roll and broke it in half. ‘So is Sally. Sean couldn’t wait to get her back on the team.’

Oliver walked into the room, carrying a huge dish piled high with a delicious-smelling risotto. ‘Didn’t take him long to talk you into that, Sal.’

Sally took a plate from Helen with a smile of thanks. ‘You know Sean.’

Helen spooned some risotto onto her plate. ‘So you’re a mountain girl, too?’

Oliver gave a snort. ‘Sally is more of a mountain girl than any of us. She’s been doing the serious stuff. And she’s going to tell us all about it.’ He topped up everyone’s glasses and then raised his towards Sally. ‘Cheers. And now we want to hear everything, down to the last gory detail.’

‘Not much to tell.’ She’d left in a mess and had somehow managed to rebuild her life. It wasn’t a story she cared to tell in front of Tom. ‘After I left here, I spent some time in the Himalayas. Climbing and working in a clinic there. It was good experience.’

‘What did you climb?’

It was typical of Tom to want the detail. When they’d been young they’d exchanged details of every route.

‘Well, not Everest,’ she said lightly, ‘although I spent some time at base camp and lower down the valley.’ She hesitated. ‘I joined an expedition climbing Ama Dablam, and that was amazing. Such a beautiful mountain.’

Tom’s expression changed and he looked at her with a new respect. ‘You climbed Ama Dablam? That’s a serious climb. How did you cope with the altitude?’

‘Surprisingly well.’

‘Dad and I climbed it. It was our first real Himalayan experience.’

She looked at him and for a moment there were only the two of them in the room. ‘I remember. You raved about it. It was one of the reasons I went there.’

Because going somewhere that he’d been had somehow maintained a link. And she didn’t want to remember how desperately she’d needed that link. Anything that reminded her of Tom. Anywhere that Tom had been, as if he’d imprinted part of himself on the places that he’d visited.

Suddenly realizing that she’d revealed too much, she dropped her eyes to her plate. ‘After Ama Dablam, I travelled. I met a friend and we went mountain biking around Nepal—that was great. We had a good time.’

‘A friend?’ Bryony’s eyes teased her from across the table. ‘We want to hear more about this friend.’

Everyone laughed except Tom, who gazed at her face in brooding silence.

‘You went mountain biking in the Himalayas?’ Helen looked at her in awe. ‘You make me feel exhausted just thinking about it. Didn’t you relax at all?’

Sally fiddled with her food and gave a half-smile. ‘I find climbing relaxing.’

It required all her concentration and that left no room for other thoughts to intrude. Thoughts of Tom. She’d run so that the pain couldn’t catch her and she’d continued to run until she’d finally been sure that she’d left the worst of the agony behind.

‘Well, it certainly doesn’t sound relaxing to me.’ Helen gave a little shudder and Oliver laughed and took her hand.

‘My wife is a townie at heart,’ he teased gently, ‘but we’re trying to convert her. If she doesn’t wear high heels for a few days she has serious withdrawal symptoms.’

Helen’s eyes mocked him. ‘You’re always so derogatory about my choice of footwear, but I don’t hear you complaining when we go out.’

‘I admit it.’ Oliver grinned at her. ‘My fatal weakness. A woman in high heels.’

‘Enough of your strange fetishes.’ Bryony frowned at her brother and turned back to Sally. ‘I had your letter from the Karakorum.’

Helen looked confused. ‘Where—or what—is the Karakorum?’

Tom stirred. ‘It’s a range of mountains in Pakistan.’ He looked at Sally. ‘You went to K2?’

‘I worked as base camp manager for one of the expeditions,’ she told him, ‘and in one of the clinics there. And when that finished one of them persuaded me to travel to Australia so I did and I got a job as a midwife.’

The conversation switched to obstetrics and Sally concentrated on her meal, wondering why she couldn’t relax.

She’d grown up with these people. They were the closest thing to family she had, and yet the only person she was aware of was Tom.

Despite the fact that his chair was several inches from hers, she was supremely conscious of him. The hard muscle of his thigh was tantalizingly close to hers and suddenly she wished she could flick a switch in her body that would delete for ever her awareness of this man.

And he was tense.

She could feel it.

He lounged in his chair, listening to the conversation, his long fingers tapping the table.

‘All right, pay attention. We have some news.’ Bryony tucked her hand into Jack’s and beamed at everyone.

Sally looked at her friend with interest, glad of a distraction from Tom. ‘What news?’

‘I’m pregnant.’ Bryony spoke softly, her gaze slightly shy as she looked at Jack. ‘Two months gone. Not very much really, so we haven’t told anyone except Mum. And now you.’

Helen gave a squeal of delight and dashed round the table to hug Bryony. Oliver shot Jack an amused glance.

‘No need to ask what you were doing on your honeymoon. Congratulations.’

‘Yes, congratulations.’ Genuinely pleased for her friend, Sally smiled across the table. ‘It looks as though I came home at the right time. I’ve got seven months to get used to the idea of answering to “Aunty Sally”.’

Tom’s gaze was fixed on her face. ‘Why did you decide to come home?’

Sally reached for her wine, her hand perfectly steady. ‘Because it was time,’ she said softly, still smiling at Bryony. ‘I realized I was missing out on the lives of people who matter to me.’

Bryony looked at Tom. ‘I want you to deliver me.’

Tom frowned and his fingers stilled. ‘That would not be a good idea, and you know it.’

‘You delivered Ellie MacAllister.’ Bryony’s gaze softened as she looked at her brother. ‘You saved her life.’

‘Ellie is not my sister.’

‘But she’s a close friend.’

Tom let out a long breath. ‘That’s different.’

‘I don’t see why your sister should be deserving of less than a friend. There’s no one else I trust,’ Bryony confessed quietly, and Tom sighed.

‘Bry, I can’t.’ He took a slug of wine and stared broodily at his glass. ‘I’ll have a word with Chris Knight. He seems pretty good to me.’

‘Pretty good isn’t good enough,’ Bryony said tartly, and Jack grinned.

‘“Pretty good” is high praise from your brother, you should know that. The guy’s obviously a genius.’

Tom gave a wry smile. ‘He seems solid enough and we think along the same lines.’

‘I want you,’ Bryony said stubbornly, and Tom’s gaze shifted to Jack.

‘Don’t look at me,’ Jack muttered. ‘When Bry gets something stuck in her head, there’s no shifting it. You should know that.’

Tom was silent for a few moments and then he looked at his sister. ‘I promise to be there when you deliver, but I’m not being responsible for the actual delivery.’

Bryony hesitated. ‘You’ll be there? You’ll intervene if you see them doing something wrong?’

‘People don’t do things wrong in my department.’ Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘And, yes, I’ll be there.’

Bryony smiled at him, warmth and gratitude in her eyes. ‘Thanks, Tom.’

Sally was suddenly aware that he was studying her again and she felt the tension rise inside her.

Why had he asked her that question about her reasons for coming home?

Had he expected a declaration of undying love?

If so then he was doomed to disappointment.

She stood up, suddenly needing to be in her own.

‘I’d better go. I’m on an early tomorrow.’ She glanced at her watch and then smiled at Helen. ‘It was a wonderful meal and a lovely evening. Thank you so much for inviting me.’

‘Come again soon.’ Helen glanced at Jack and Bryony. ‘Are you giving Sally a lift home? She can’t possibly ride her bike this late.’

‘You’re talking to a girl who mountain biked around the Himalayas,’ Oliver said dryly, his eyes amused as he looked at his fiancée. ‘I don’t suppose anyone looked out for her then.’

‘Well, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look out for her now,’ Helen said firmly, ‘and she isn’t riding that bike of hers home this late at night.’

Something shifted inside Sally and she felt an instant bond with Helen.

She was an incredibly kind person.

‘Thank you,’ she said gruffly, ‘but I’ll be fine, really.’

‘Helen’s right, you shouldn’t cycle this late. I’ll give you a lift.’ Tom rose to his feet and lifted an eyebrow in her direction, challenging her to refuse.

She lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re on a bike, too, remember?’

Tom’s eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Not the same thing, as you well know.’

Sally glanced down at herself. ‘I’m hardly dressed for a ride on a motorbike in freezing March.’

‘I’ve got a spare helmet and you can borrow a set of leathers from here,’ Tom said easily. ‘Oliver?’

‘We’ll take her,’ Bryony interrupted quickly, her expression troubled as she looked at Sally. ‘She doesn’t want to go on the back of your motorbike. It’s a totally uncivilized mode of transport.’

‘Sally isn’t like you,’ Tom said softly, his blue eyes fixed firmly on Sally. ‘She used to love my motorbike. I can’t believe she’s really changed that much.’

Sally stared at him, hardly able to breathe. Why did she have the feeling that this conversation wasn’t about motorbikes? It was about the person she used to be.

But she wasn’t that person any more.

She wasn’t the same girl who had been so crazy about Tom that all the other parts of her life had blurred into insignificance.

Bryony reached for her keys. ‘I’m taking her home,’ she said firmly, and Oliver sighed.

‘Well, in that case you’ll have to come back here afterwards, because Jack and I have got things to discuss.’

‘Thanks, Bry, but I’ll go with Tom.’ The last thing Sally wanted was to put Bryony to so much trouble when she’d already been so generous in every way. It was just one short motorbike ride. How could that be a problem? And it was hardly intimate. They wouldn’t even be able to have a conversation and he couldn’t see her face once they were on the bike. It would be fine.

She looked at the leathers that Oliver was holding out to her, her eyes suddenly wary as she recognized them. ‘They’re mine …’

‘You gave them to us when you left. Naturally, we hung onto them.’

Sally stood for a moment, remembering the time she’d bought the leathers. The same time she’d thought she’d be with Tom for ever.

Putting them on would be like going back in time, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Then she felt Tom’s eyes on her and reached for the leathers. ‘Thanks.’

She wriggled into them, took the helmet from Tom and said her goodbyes, by which time Tom was already seated on the motorbike, his black helmet concealing his features and giving him an air of menace and danger.

Sally swallowed, suddenly realizing what she’d committed herself to. Why on earth hadn’t she just agreed when Bryony had offered to drive her home? It would have been the safe option.

But she’d never chosen the safe option in her life and Bryony had already done more than enough.

She looked at his powerful figure straddling the bike with careless ease and suddenly her body throbbed in an instinctive and totally feminine response to the macho figure he presented. But his sexual magnetism had never been in question, she reasoned, hating herself for the strength of her reaction. That was why she’d made such a fool of herself over him in her teens.

Looking at the space on the back of his bike, she felt her breath catch.

How could she have thought that riding on a bike with him would be less intimate than travelling in a car? It was so much more intimate. On a bike she would be wrapped around him, her body locked against his as it had been so many times in the past.

‘Are you coming?’ His deep voice was molten male invitation and she was suddenly thankful that the helmet concealed her expression.

‘Yes.’

Comforting herself that the journey was relatively short, she stepped up to the bike and swung her leg over, sitting as far back in the saddle as possible, trying to keep her distance.

Without speaking, he reached back and found her arms, lifting them and wrapping them around him, forcing her to draw close, to slot her body against his.

She felt the warmth and strength of him pressed against her, felt the powerful play of male muscle against hers as he steered the bike out of Oliver’s drive.

As they picked up speed she felt the familiar kick of excitement and closed her eyes, transported back in time.

It was a mistake. Like an addict who allows himself just one more taste of a dangerous substance, she felt the insidious pull of desire. A need that couldn’t be controlled by common sense. Feeling the traitorous warmth spread through her body, she wondered despairingly how it was that you could know something was bad for you and yet still want it so badly.

Other men, she told herself firmly.

There were other men out there and she was going to meet one of them …

She was so preoccupied by her own internal battle that it wasn’t until Tom approached Bryony’s cottage that she realized that she hadn’t even told him where she lived.

The bike slowed and she pulled herself back from the edge of insanity, sliding off the back of the bike before he’d even brought it to a halt.

She dragged off the helmet and handed it to him, shaking her blonde hair in an automatic gesture.

‘So how did you know where I was living?’

‘A simple matter of deduction,’ he drawled. ‘My little sister seems to have given herself the role of protector and her cottage is empty. It would be a logical decision to offer it to you.’

‘I’m finding myself somewhere of my own soon.’

He shrugged. ‘Why bother? This cottage is great and it’s not that far from the hospital.’

Because after seven years of travelling she was ready to have somewhere that was her own. Even if all she could afford was something tiny.

It would be all hers.

But she had no intention of sharing those thoughts with Tom.

‘Goodnight. Thanks for the lift.’

‘Are you going to invite me in?’ His voice was velvety dark and tempting and she stared at him like a rabbit caught in headlights, the physical pull of his presence as powerful as ever.

‘Why would I?’

‘Because, whatever you might say to the contrary,’ he drawled softly, ‘you know you want to. All evening you felt me next to you in the same way that I felt you. This thing between us hasn’t gone away, Sally.’

Her insides lurched alarmingly and she backed away a few steps. ‘What I know,’ she said coldly, ‘is that you are as arrogant as ever.’

But despite her accusation she could feel the insidious warmth spread through her veins, fuelled by the lazy, confident look in his blue eyes.

When she’d been younger, it had been one of the many things that had attracted her to him. His unshakable self-confidence, his nerve and courage in confronting the world, his total belief in his ability to conquer all. For someone as insecure as her, he’d represented security. She’d always believed that nothing would ever go wrong as long as Tom was there.

But the thing that had gone wrong had been Tom himself.

Like everyone else in her life, eventually he’d pushed her away.

‘So are you inviting me in?’ He sat easily on the bike, watching her, totally relaxed. Or was he? His blue eyes were sharp and alert and fixed on her face, reading her every reaction with lethal accuracy.

‘No, Tom. I’m not. Thanks for the lift.’ She delved in her bag for her keys and turned to walk down the path to the cottage, but his arm snaked out and strong fingers closed over her arm, preventing her escape.

‘You can deny it as much as you like, but it’s still there.’

She stood still, trapped by the strength of his fingers and the truth in his words.

It was still there.

And that made it doubly difficult to do what she had to do.

But it didn’t make it impossible.

‘Goodnight, Tom.’ With a determined effort and more willpower than she’d known she possessed, she pulled away from him for the second time that evening and walked down the path without looking back.

Tom rode the motorbike home at a pace that would have horrified his mother, but even the sudden burst of death-defying speed and power didn’t relieve the throbbing tension that had built within him during the evening.

He locked the bike away and let himself into his house, contemplating the undeniable fact that, of all the women he’d been with in his life, Sally Jenner was the only one who had ever held his attention.

But she’d wanted a level of commitment that had unsettled him.

She’d been young and mixed up. Shifted from foster-home to foster-home, searching for security and acceptance. And unconditional love. Someone who wouldn’t push her away when the going got tough.

And hadn’t he done just that?

He cursed softly, reminding himself that he’d been in an impossible situation.

Sally had been so lonely and unloved that she’d treated him like a lifeline, and he’d known that the only way she was ever going to find confidence, find her place in the world, would be if they parted company. He’d been mature enough to realize how desperate she’d been for some sort of stability in her life, and he’d been afraid that her love for him had been fuelled by a desperation for security.

And looking at her this evening, looking at that poise and confidence, he could almost convince himself that he’d done the right thing.

But then he’d felt the pulsing, throbbing tension between them, and the question came back to taunt him as it had a million times over the last seven years.

What if he hadn’t ended it?

Wondering why life was so damn complicated, Tom tugged open the fridge to retrieve another beer when he remembered that he’d already had one and it was still possible that he’d be called back to the hospital.

So instead he made himself a coffee and took it into his huge living room.

He sprawled on one of the leather sofas, staring blindly, thinking about the one woman who was never far from his mind.

When she’d chosen to leave Cumbria he’d been relieved. He had been fully aware that living in the same community as Sally Jenner and not wanting to ravish her twenty-four hours a day had been more than his willpower would have been able to cope with.

Even believing that his decision had been right for both of them, it hadn’t made it any easier to live with.

He’d hurt her. Badly. Which had reduced him from friend and lover to just another person who’d rejected her.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that seven years of separation wouldn’t dull his desire for her in even the smallest degree.

All that the time had done had been to increase his doubt.

He stirred slightly, his gaze sliding around the stylish room that he’d designed himself, noticing how empty it was. Usually he found comfort in returning to the peace and order of his home.

But tonight something had changed.

Tonight his house didn’t feel peaceful, it felt silent.

It didn’t feel private, it felt lonely.

Suddenly he’d found himself wishing that he shared it with a woman, but not just any woman.

Sally.

The connection between them was as powerful as ever, even though she was choosing to deny it.

And who could blame her for that?

Suddenly he wished it were Sally who was pregnant, with his child.

Shocked by his thoughts, he rose to his feet and paced the generous expanse of his living room, wondering just what on earth was happening to him.

Sally dragged herself through the next few days at work, feeling totally exhausted. The strain of working in such close proximity to Tom was affecting her sleep pattern and she was permanently tired.

And she was thinking too much.

Thinking about the past.

Gritting her teeth and promising herself that she’d spend the weekend outdoors, she walked onto the unit for her last shift before her days off, frowning slightly as her mountain rescue team pager bleeped.

Moments later Tom strode onto the unit, his expression urgent.

‘Grab your things, we need to get going.’

‘Going?’ Sally looked at him, her hand still on her pager. ‘Surely we can’t both leave the unit?’

Emma gave her a little push. ‘We’re quiet, and anyway Chris is around and I can get some help from the ward if I need it. What’s happening, Tom?’

‘Would you believe me if I told you that Lucy Thomas has called from somewhere in the Langdales? She’s fallen and hurt her ankle.’

‘Lucy?’ Emma gaped at him. ‘But she must be eight months pregnant by now!’

‘Apparently she felt like some fresh air.’ Tom let out a breath. ‘I have to admit that of all the incidents I’ve ever attended, this one looks as though it might take the prize. It seems she fell and twisted her ankle and her husband can’t move her. But we can talk about it on the way. I need to grab some extra equipment, Emma. Just in case.’

Sally frowned. ‘But I thought it was her ankle that was injured.’

‘It is, so far …’ Tom was already striding down the corridor towards the storeroom, ‘but I have a bad feeling about this one and clearly so does Sean. It’s the reason he’s asked for both of us to be there.’

He was back minutes later, stuffing various packages into a bag. In the meantime Sally had grabbed her coat and bag.

‘You’ll be pleased to hear I brought the four-wheel-drive today,’ he said dryly, his eyes faintly mocking as he looked at her. ‘So at least you’ll be travelling in comfort.’

The hospital was only minutes from the base, and as soon as Tom pulled up in the car park Sally was out of the door and sprinting inside, grabbing her gear and changing quickly.

‘I’m still waiting for the others,’ Sean told them, ushering them across to the large map that was permanently displayed on the wall. ‘She used a mobile phone but the battery went dead before she could be precise about their location. They stayed on the flat and she said they’d walked for about an hour. Given that she’s eight months pregnant, that can’t put them any further than here …’ He stabbed the map with the end of his pen and frowned thoughtfully. ‘We should be able to land a helicopter there if we have to.’

Tom shook his head in disbelief. ‘What is a heavily pregnant woman doing, walking in the Langdales in this weather? Has the world gone mad?’

Sean grinned. ‘It’s a sunny day. Perhaps she wanted to deliver alfresco.’

‘Don’t even joke about it,’ Tom growled, and Sally glanced at her watch.

‘Let’s get going.’

Part of her was quaking at the thought of going on alone with Tom, but part of her was relieved to be paired with him.

He was a highly skilled climber and a brilliant doctor. He was the perfect partner on any mountain rescue.

She just wished he wasn’t so dangerously attractive.

Or, at the very least, she wished she no longer noticed or cared.

They both jumped back into the four-wheel-drive and Tom drove quickly to the point that he and Sean had identified from the map as being the closest to the path the couple seemed to have taken.

As she slipped her arms into her rucksack, Sally gave a shiver and looked up at the sky.

‘The weather’s closing in.’

‘Of course it is.’ Tom’s tone was loaded with irony. ‘You didn’t really think you were going to carry out this rescue in sunshine, did you?’

Sally laughed. ‘I would have hated it if we had. I love wild weather.’

He stilled, a strange expression flickering in his eyes as he looked at her. ‘That’s right.’ His tone was suddenly soft. ‘So you do.’

For a moment their eyes held and then she turned on her heel and started up the path, her emotions churning.

Being out in the mountains with him was the most bitter-sweet reminder of what they’d once shared. When they hadn’t been working, they’d spent their whole lives outdoors. And she’d often chosen to climb when the weather had been at its worst, and Tom had always come with her.

Reminding herself that dwelling on the past just made the present harder to cope with, Sally increased her pace and strode confidently along the path that led along the valley floor, looking and listening and keeping a sharp eye on the weather. But all the time she was aware of Tom close behind her.

When she reached a fork in the path she paused, and Tom walked up to her, squinting up at the sky.

‘It’s not looking good. So which way? Left or right?’

Sally thought for a moment. ‘Left,’ she said decisively. ‘And if they only walked for an hour, they shouldn’t be far from here.’

She set off again and this time Tom walked by her side, adjusting his stride to hers. ‘Why did you decide on left?’

‘Instinct.’ Sally glanced at him. ‘If I was pregnant I would have taken this path. The views are better and it stays in the valley. The other one creeps up the mountain. It’s steeper.’

‘I can’t imagine that would bother you,’ Tom said dryly. ‘I have no doubt that you’ll still be climbing rock-faces when you’re nine months pregnant.’

Sally dragged her eyes away from his.

She didn’t want him to know how much she still longed for a child. It was one of the factors that had triggered their break-up. She’d wanted a baby and he’d thought she’d been too young.

She focused on the path. ‘I see them. There—by that boulder.’

She increased her pace and they reached the couple quickly.

‘Thank goodness you’re here.’ The man looked pale and tired, his arm around his pregnant wife, who was lying on the ground, her bump smothered by an enormous weatherproof jacket. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Well, first we need to sit her up,’ Sally said quickly, shrugging the pack off her back and dropping to her knees next to the woman. ‘I’m Sally. I presume you must be Lucy, unless there’s another pregnant woman wandering the fells today.’

Tom dropped to his haunches. ‘Lucy, what on earth do you think you’re doing?’

The young woman gave a gasp and pressed a hand to her swollen abdomen. ‘Oh, Mr Hunter! I didn’t know that you’d come. I just fancied stretching my legs and we lost track of time and then I fell … I’m so sorry to be a nuisance. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to slip!’

‘You’re not a nuisance,’ Sally said immediately, ‘but we do need to sit you up. Lying flat can cause problems at your stage of pregnancy because the weight of the baby presses on your major blood vessels.’

Tom was by her side and together they lifted the woman into a sitting position, propped against a large boulder.

‘She’s been having pains for the past half an hour,’ Lucy’s husband told them, his face drawn and anxious. ‘We never should have come on this walk but it was such a beautiful day when we started out.’

Lucy screwed up her face and sucked in a breath. ‘Oh—the pain is terrible.’

Tom frowned. ‘In your ankle?’

‘No.’ Lucy shook her head, her eyes tightly shut as she struggled with the pain. ‘I think the baby is coming.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Luce.’ Her husband spoke in a falsely cheerful tone that was supposed to hide his anxiety and didn’t. ‘It isn’t due for another three weeks and babies don’t come that quickly.’

Lucy’s features relaxed and she opened her eyes. ‘Sorry to scare you, Mick, but it feels as though it’s coming to me.’

Her husband glanced at Tom, horrified. ‘She’s wrong, isn’t she? It can’t possibly be coming here. That quickly.’

‘Babies don’t usually care too much about the venue and they don’t always care about the timing either,’ Tom said, squatting down beside Lucy and sliding a hand over her abdomen. ‘They come when they’re ready. And you’re definitely having contractions. Sally, you monitor them. I’m going to take a look at your ankle, Lucy, so that we know what we’re dealing with here. If you are in labour, we need to get you to hospital.’

Mick looked horrified. ‘But it usually takes a long time, yes? Labour takes ages.’

‘Usually, but not always,’ Sally muttered, placing her hand on the top of Lucy’s uterus to feel the strength of the contraction while Tom gently removed Lucy’s boot. ‘Has everything been normal in your pregnancy?’ A gust of wind blew her blonde hair across her face and she anchored it back with her hand, contemplating the fact that she’d never had to ask these questions on a mountain rescue before. ‘Any problems at all with you or the baby?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘The baby was breech for a while but it turned about a month ago and the head has been engaged for a week. I saw Mr Hunter in clinic last week and he said everything was looking fine. Oh—’ She broke off with a gasp of pain and Sally felt the power of the contraction as the uterus tightened under her hand.

‘All right, Lucy, remember your breathing.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Your contractions are very frequent. How long have you been in labour? When did the pains start?’

Lucy screwed up her face and shook her head. ‘I didn’t know I was in labour, but I was very uncomfortable in the car. We’d been to see my mum and we thought we’d stop and stretch our legs.’

‘Stretch your legs?’ Tom glanced up from examining her ankle. ‘You walked for an hour.’

‘It was just so beautiful we sort of lost track of the time, and walking helped the pain,’ Lucy muttered. ‘And it isn’t as if pregnancy is an illness. I felt fine until I lost my balance.’

Tom looked at Sally, a question in his eyes. ‘Well?’

‘She’s definitely in strong labour,’ Sally said quietly, and Tom let out a breath.

‘All right—let’s take this one stage at a time,’ he suggested, his tone calm as he finished his examination. ‘In my opinion your ankle is sprained, not broken, but you’re certainly not going to be walking anywhere on it for a while. If you’re in labour, we need to get you to a hospital as fast as possible.’

‘You can get a helicopter, yes?’ Mick raked a shaking hand through his windblown hair, visibly shaken by the news that his wife was certainly in labour. ‘Something fast.’

Lucy screwed up her face and grabbed Sally’s hand. ‘I’ve got another pain coming … Oh! I want to push—I can feel it.’

Even Tom looked startled by her terrified announcement and Sally found herself struggling not to smile, despite the potential seriousness of the situation. She’d never seen Tom out of his depth before, but at the moment he looked seriously disconcerted.

‘I think you’d better unpack some of that equipment you brought, Tom,’ she suggested calmly. ‘It looks as though we’re going to need it.’

Sally waited until the contraction had passed and then gently released Lucy’s hand so that she could assess the progress of her labour more accurately. ‘All right, I’m going to unzip your coat and see what’s going on.’

Tom had moved to one side and was using the radio, presumably to talk to Sean at the mountain rescue base.

Sally concentrated on the labouring woman. Because there was no doubt in her mind that the woman was about to deliver. She didn’t even need to pull on a pair of gloves and examine her. As Lucy was gripped by another powerful contraction, Sally clearly saw the top of the baby’s head.

For a moment she felt a shaft of panic and then she reminded herself that there was no reason why a healthy woman couldn’t deliver perfectly well outdoors. She had to forget about all the potential complications and concentrate on the job in hand. Their biggest problem was just the cold.

‘Your baby is definitely coming, Lucy,’ she said calmly, wishing Tom would get off the radio and help. Deciding that she’d better get on with it on her own, she delved into the rucksack and removed various packs. ‘Mick, can you get a tent up, please? Something to keep the wind off. Check in Tom’s rucksack.’

Creating a shelter wouldn’t help that much, but at least it would be better than nothing.

Tom finished talking on the radio and strode back to her. ‘They’re sending a helicopter.’

Sally looked at him. ‘You can’t deliver a baby in a helicopter,’ she pointed out logically, and he ran a hand over the back of his neck.

‘She’s that close? Seriously?’

‘I can see the head.’ Sally looked at him, wondering what was the matter with him. ‘I need a tent, Tom. Now. It’s not much in the way of shelter, but it will help.’

Tom seemed to stir himself. ‘Right. A tent. Mick, I need a hand.’

Sally left the two of them to sort out some shelter and turned her attention back to Lucy.

‘Don’t you worry about a thing,’ she said cheerfully. ‘We girls are going to manage this with no problem.’

Lucy gave a hysterical laugh and caught Sally’s hand again. ‘Would you believe that I actually dismissed the idea of a home birth because they convinced me it was dangerous for my first baby? And here I am on the side of a mountain! I can’t believe this is happening!’

‘Well, look on the bright side, at least you didn’t climb up the mountain,’ Sally said practically. ‘And home birth is not dangerous in the right circumstances. Everything seems fine to me. The only thing we really need to worry about is the cold.’

‘Have you delivered babies at home before?’

‘I worked in Nepal for a while,’ Sally told her chattily, happy to distract her. ‘Hardly any of the women there make it to health centres of any sort, and plenty of other cultures think that home is the place to give birth. I once looked after a woman who insisted on giving birth in her garden, surrounded by candles.’

Lucy gave a hysterical laugh. ‘But none of them chose to deliver in a howling gale on a mountainside.’

‘You’ve certainly picked the best view,’ Sally agreed with a laugh, grabbing the Pinard stethoscope from the rucksack and pressing it against Lucy’s abdomen. ‘This might be asking a bit much, but I want to try and listen to the baby’s heart.’

For a few moments all she could hear was the wind and Lucy’s gasps, and then she shifted the stethoscope slightly and there it was. The wonderfully reassuring gallop of the baby’s heart.

‘That’s fine, Lucy.’ She straightened. ‘He or she seems to be perfectly happy. Obviously enjoying being outdoors.’

By now Lucy was inside the tent and she and Tom had manoeuvred a sterile sheet underneath her.

Lucy gave a low moan. ‘I’m so scared. This isn’t how it should be …’

‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ Sally said immediately. ‘You’re doing beautifully. Are you warm enough?’

Lucy nodded. ‘I am, but what about the baby?’

‘Well, at the moment he’s still inside you so he’s fine,’ Sally said. ‘We’ll worry about his temperature once he’s safely out.’

‘You keep calling the baby he,’ Lucy gasped, and Sally smiled, aware of Tom by her side.

‘It’s a boy. Definitely.’ Her tone was dry. ‘Only a man could cause this much trouble.’

Despite the tension of the situation, Lucy giggled. Tom picked up the banter. ‘You’re going to find out just what trouble is when this is over, Sally Jenner,’ he threatened, his blue eyes gleaming as they locked on hers.

But despite his mockery and the kick of her heart, Sally couldn’t be anything but glad that he was there.

She knew that if Lucy got into trouble, she was going to need him.

Lucy chuckled and then groaned. ‘Don’t make me laugh—it hurts. How can you be so relaxed?’

‘Because there is absolutely nothing to be tense about,’ Sally replied immediately. ‘Childbirth is perfectly natural.’

Lucy grimaced. ‘Until something goes wrong.’

‘That’s my line,’ Tom muttered. He glanced at Sally and she rolled her eyes.

‘Don’t get all pessimistic on me, please, or I’ll send the pair of you home and do this by myself.’ She opened another pack and looked at Tom again. ‘Could you draw up some Syntometrine? If you and Lucy are just going to sit there, panicking, I’ll have to give the orders.’

He lifted a hand to show her that he’d already done it and it occurred to her that, despite everything that had happened, they were still a good team.

Lucy gave a gasp and shifted onto all fours. ‘It’s coming … I can feel it …’

Sally snapped on a new pair of gloves and glanced over her shoulder at Tom. ‘We’re going to need all the layers you can find, and I want a space blanket, too. OK, Lucy, the head is crowning. I want you to stop pushing if you can. That’s it, good girl. Pant now, pant—that’s it. Great.’

She used her left hand to control the escape of the head and reduce the chances of perineal tearing. As the baby’s head was delivered she allowed it to extend and quickly checked that the cord wasn’t around its neck.

‘Fantastic, Lucy,’ she said, glancing at Tom to check that he was ready to give the injection with the delivery of the anterior shoulder.

She saw the tension in his broad shoulders, the lines of strain around his eyes.

He was waiting for something to go wrong.

‘Everything’s fine,’ she said quietly, as much for Tom’s benefit as Lucy’s. ‘It’s fine. And this is much the nicest delivery I’ve ever done. All we have to do is keep this baby warm once it’s born.’

She could see that Lucy’s body was doing everything it was supposed to do and there was no real reason why there should be problems. Their biggest problem was going to be keeping the baby warm once it was born.

Somewhere in the background she could hear the clack-clack of a helicopter, but she ignored it, waiting instead for the contraction that would finish the delivery of the baby.

Lucy screwed up her face and pushed again. Sally delivered the shoulders and finally the baby shot into her arms, yelling and bawling.

‘Brilliant, Lucy! You clever girl!’ Sally’s eyes filled and she quickly blinked back the tears. ‘You have a little boy.’

Tom immediately cleared the baby’s airway and together they clamped the cord and then placed the child against Lucy’s breast, wrapping mother and child up together.

Lucy gave a sob of disbelief. ‘Is he all right?’

‘He seems fine, but obviously we need to keep him warm and get him to hospital as fast as possible. As soon as your placenta is delivered and you’re able to move, we’re going to load you into that helicopter.’

Sally slid a hand over the top of Lucy’s uterus, checking that it was contracting, and moments later the placenta was delivered.

She examined it closely and looked at Tom. ‘It seems intact to me, but we need to take it to the hospital with us.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll talk to the helicopter crew about how we’re going to do this.’

Satisfied that Lucy’s uterus was contracting nicely and that she didn’t seem to be losing more blood than was normal, Sally turned her attention to the baby, showing Lucy how to latch him onto the breast.

‘Feeding will help your uterus contract and it will warm the baby up,’ she explained, smiling as the little boy clamped his jaws around the nipple and started to suck. ‘No problems there. He obviously has a natural ability. I told you he was a boy!’

Lucy looked at her, tears in her eyes. ‘I can’t thank you enough. You were amazing.’

‘It was wonderful,’ Sally said honestly, glancing over her shoulder as Tom stuck his head into the tent. ‘Are we ready? The baby’s feeding.’

‘Great.’ He smiled at Lucy. ‘When you’re ready to move we’ll get you to the helicopter and take you to hospital. It’s a very short hop.’