Welcome to Penhally Bay!

Nestled on the rugged Cornish coast is the picturesque town of Penhally. With sandy beaches, breathtaking landscapes and a warm, bustling community—it is the lucky tourist who stumbles upon this little haven.

But now Mills & Boon® Medical™ Romance is giving readers the unique opportunity to visit this fi ctional coastal town through our brand-new twelve-book continuity… You are welcomed to a town where the fi shing boats bob up and down in the bay, surfers wait expectantly for the waves, friendly faces line the cobbled streets and romance flutters on the Cornish sea breeze…

We introduce you to Penhally Bay Surgery, where you can meet the team led by caring and commanding Dr Nick Tremayne. Each book will bring you an emotional, tempting romance—from Mediterranean heroes to a sheikh with a guarded heart. There’s royal scandal that leads to marriage for a baby’s sake, and handsome playboys are tamed by their blushing brides! Top-notch city surgeons win adoring smiles from the community, and little miracle babies will warm your hearts. But that’s not all…

With Penhally Bay you get double the reading pleasure… as each book also follows the life of damaged hero Dr Nick Tremayne. His story will pierce your heart—a tale of lost love and the torment of forbidden romance. Dr Nick’s unquestionable, unrelenting skill would leave any patient happy in the knowledge that she’s in safe hands, and is a testament to the ability and dedication of all the staff at Penhally Bay Surgery. Come in and meet them for yourself…

Margaret McDonagh says of herself: ‘I began losing myself in the magical world of books from a very young age, and I always knew that I had to write, pursuing the dream for over twenty years, often with cussed stubbornness in the face of rejection letters! Despite having numerous romance novellas, short stories and serials published, the news that my first “proper book” had been accepted by Harlequin Mills & Boon for their Medical™ Romance line brought indescribable joy! Having a passion for learning makes researching an involving pleasure, and I love developing new characters, getting to know them, setting them challenges to overcome. The hardest part is saying goodbye to them, because they become so real to me. And I always fall in love with my heroes! Writing and reading books, keeping in touch with friends, watching sport and meeting the demands of my four-legged companions keeps me well occupied. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I loved writing it.’

www.margaretmcdonagh.com

margaret. mcdonagh@yahoo.co.uk

With special thanks…

To those who helped with my research on retinitis

pigmentosa…your courage is humbling

www.brps.org. uk…

and on Duchenne muscular dystrophy

www. muscular-dystrophy.org

To my fellow Medical Romance authors

involved in this exciting series

And to the wonderful editorial team who conceived the

Penhally project—thank you for believing in me.

Dear Reader

It was an honour to be involved in the wonderful Brides of Penhally Bay project, but I felt the weight of responsibility when I was asked to write Book 12 and bring this series to a close. Or is it just the end of the beginning? Who knows? As you will see, some threads are left hanging, so maybe one day we will be able to return to this delightful Cornish town and the folk who live there.

DR DEVEREUX’S PROPOSAL was fun to write, but also emotional. Both sexy French doctor Gabriel and caring physiotherapist Lauren have issues from their pasts which make them question whether anyone can love them. They also have to face some tough decisions about their futures. Instant attraction flares into an intense affair, but will their love be strong enough to hold them together when the time comes to face the truth? Can they confide in each other and find the answers together? Will knowledge of the past make them stronger and set them free…or will fears for what lies ahead tear them apart? I hope you will enjoy their journey.

2008 has been the year to celebrate the centenary of Mills & Boon, the home of romance. Thank you for being part of it. Here’s to the next 100 years of reading pleasure!

Happy reading

Margaret

www.margaretmcdonagh.com

BRIDES OF PENHALLY BAY

Bachelor doctors become husbands and fathers— in a place where hearts are made whole.

At Christmas we met pregnant doctor Lucy Tremayne when she was reunited with the man she loves Christmas Eve Baby by Caroline Anderson

Then in January we snuggled up for some much needed winter warmth with gorgeous Italian doctor Marco Avanti The Italian’s New-Year Marriage Wish by Sarah Morgan

February saw Adam and Maggie on a 24-hour rescue mission where romance blossomed as the sun started to set The Doctor’s Bride By Sunrise by Josie Metcalfe

Single dad Jack Tremayne found a mother for his little boy—and a bride for himself in March The Surgeon’s Fatherhood Surprise by Jennifer Taylor

A princess arrived in Penhally when HRH Melinda Fortesque came to the Bay in April The Doctor’s Royal Love-Child by Kate Hardy

In May Edward Tremayne found the woman of his dreams Nurse Bride, Bayside Wedding by Gill Sanderson

Hunky Penhally Bay Chief Inspector Lachlan D’Ancey found love in June Single Dad Seeks a Wife by Melanie Milburne

The temperature really hotted up in July, when devastatingly handsome Dr Oliver Fawkner arrived in the Bay… Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor by Margaret McDonagh

In August, Francesca and Mike tried one last time for the baby they’d always longed for… Their Miracle Baby by Caroline Anderson

September brought sexy Sheikh Zayed from his desert kingdom to the beaches of Penhally Sheikh Surgeon Claims His Bride by Josie Metcalfe

We snuggled up with dishy Dr Tom Cornish in October A Baby for Eve by Maggie Kingsley

And this month French doctor Gabriel sweeps into the Bay! Dr Devereux’s Proposal by Margaret McDonagh

A collection to treasure for ever!

DR DEVEREUX’S PROPOSAL

BY

MARGARET McDONAGH

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

‘QUE L’ENFER?’ Shocked by the sight that greeted him as his destination came into view, Dr Gabriel Devereux drew his car to a halt at the side of the cliff road and stepped out. ‘Mon Dieu!’

What had happened to the small Cornish town of Penhally Bay? His one previous visit had been in the summer when he had spent a weekend looking around and finalising details for his year-long contract to work as a GP in the local practice. Penhally had recently been twinned with St Ouen-sur-Mer in Normandy, France, where he had been filling in for the last ten months at his friend François Amiot’s busy medical clinic.

As part of the twinning process, people from different occupations and ways of life were crossing the Channel, exchanging jobs and skills, building bridges and friendships, bringing the communities of the two towns together, socially, commercially and culturally. None of the other doctors in St Ouen-sur-Mer had been prepared to move their families for a year, but for Gabriel it had been too good an opportunity to miss. Taking this post in Cornwall was a heaven-sent chance to put even more distance between himself and the unresolved issues that had seen him leave Paris for St Ouen-sur-Mer in the first place.

Ruthlessly banishing any thoughts of home, Gabriel’s gaze narrowed as he concentrated on the scene of devastation below him. In the summer, Penhally Bay had been an attractive, hilly, seaside town bustling with tourists and basking under sunshine and clear blue skies. The rows of houses, shops and businesses along the curving seafront, painted in an array of pastel colours, had watched over the boats that had bobbed gently in the harbour. Now… He shook his head in disbelief. This cloudy late October day, the scene could not have been more different.

When his new boss, Nick Tremayne, the senior partner at the Penhally practice, had emailed a week ago to confirm the date to begin work, he had mentioned a flash flood, but Gabriel had not fully grasped the seriousness of what had occurred. A man of few words, Nick had not gone into detail, but Gabriel could see that the event had been far more cataclysmic than that one brief email had implied.

After breathing in a lungful of fresh, salty, Cornish air, Gabriel climbed back in the car and drove down the hill to the town. He passed the promontory on which the church and the lighthouse stood, before heading along the seafront that formed a horseshoe round the harbour. At the far western end of the arc were the lifeboat station and the surgery where he would be working from Monday. Halfway around the seafront, he slowed as he neared the bridge. Here, the river Lanson, which flowed down the hill between Bridge Street and Gull Close, effectively cutting the town in two, spilled its waters into the harbour.

This central area appeared to have borne the brunt of the flooding with damage obvious to houses in Bridge Street and around the seafront. The end wall of the Anchor Hotel—on the corner of Gull Close and Harbour Road—had come down under the force of the water. Standing forlorn and closed for business, the remains of the building were shored up with scaffolding, and demolition notices warned that the property was unsafe.

Twelve days on, the waters had receded and the clean-up operation had begun, but the empty houses and shops were all too apparent, as was the debris that had washed down the angry river in full spate. Ruined and discarded belongings sat forlornly outside abandoned properties, full skips awaited collection and disposal, while redundant sandbags remained by doors and gateways.

The town bustled with life, however. These people clearly had spirit, banding together and refusing to allow the difficult circumstances to defeat them. It was past lunchtime and the Saturday market was thriving. People were shopping in the stores that had evaded damage, a few were fishing off the harbour wall or working on their boats, while dedicated parties were continuing the task of restoring order after the flood. Gabriel planned to do all he could to help in the days and weeks ahead…but first he needed to find the house that was to be his base for the next year, move in and find his feet.

As he reached the outskirts of town, his memory guiding him down a narrow, hedge-lined lane, he experienced a flicker of uncharacteristic nervousness. He hoped he would settle here, that he would be accepted…a stranger and a foreigner in this tight community. Penhally Bay was not the cosmopolitan metropolis of London where he had spent time during his medical training. Would the people here judge him on his skills as a doctor or on being different? He hoped the former…was wary of the latter.

Half a mile farther along the lane, he came to the turning he was seeking and steered the car between the twin gateposts that marked the unpaved driveway. To one side was Gatehouse Cottage, the single-storey thatched lodge which Nick Tremayne had told him belonged to the physiotherapist at the surgery. Gabriel frowned, unable to remember her name. There were no signs of life from the cottage so he hoped his arrival had gone unnoticed. The drive curved away from the lodge and fifty yards farther on the impressive but not-too-large Manor House came into view, sheltered and surrounded by mature shrubs and trees. Gabriel paused, admiring the traditional fifteenth-century building, feeling now the same contentment he had experienced when he had first been here in late July.

Symbolically, the clouds overhead cleared, and low autumn sunshine filtered down from a patch of pale blue sky, highlighting myriad colours in the old, lichen-spotted granite blocks and dark roof slates from which the Manor House was built. Instinct told him he had been right to come here. This was what he needed. A place where he could work with his customary enthusiasm for the job he loved…a refuge where he could be alone and decide what he was going to do about the rest of his life.

He parked his car at the rear of the building, out of sight should anyone approach up the drive. He had arrived a day early and planned to take time to himself before announcing his presence. After finding the keys to the house—left for him by the solicitor acting for the owners, who were working abroad long term—he collected together his essential belongings and let himself in. He knew the house had been empty since the last tenants had departed at the end of August, so he was surprised to find the air smelling fresh and the surfaces clean of dust. Someone had been thoughtful enough to make preparations for his arrival. The knowledge warmed him.

Upstairs, he selected a bedroom with a lovely view over the surrounding countryside. Whoever had taken care of the house had anticipated his choice, because clean linen was folded neatly on the huge four-poster bed and fresh towels were hanging on the heated rail in the en suite bathroom. Bars of unfussy, masculine soap, still in their wrappers, sat on the basin and in the generous shower cubicle. Appreciating the welcoming touches, and making a mental note to discover the identity of and thank the unknown cleaner, Gabriel stripped off his clothes and headed for the shower.

Hot water jetted down, easing the kinks out of his body, soothing his muscles and restoring his jaded spirit, making him realise how much tension remained coiled inside him.

‘You’re sure this is what you want?’ François had asked him as he had come to see him off the day before. ‘I don’t want you to feel obligated to go to Cornwall because none of the rest of us are willing to uproot ourselves.’

‘It’s not that,’ Gabriel had reassured his friend.

Frowning, François had helped him load his bags into the car. ‘You’re worried about interference from home?’

‘Always.’ His smile had been wry, hiding the inner turmoil that had plagued him for months. ‘I need the distance, the space to make some decisions.’

‘You know I’ll watch your back. I won’t be giving out details of your whereabouts to anyone. Especially now we know what Yvette is capable of to achieve her ends.’

Gabriel had nodded in gratitude. ‘Thanks, mon ami. But you and I will keep in touch.’

‘Try to get rid of me! I want regular texts and emails.’

He would miss François and his wife, having stayed with the couple for the last ten months. ‘You and Celeste take care.’

‘We will—and we really appreciate the way you stepped in when we needed you,’ Francois had told him.

‘That’s what friends are for.’

After shaking hands and exchanging a brief hug, Gabriel had driven away from St Ouen-sur-Mer filled with nervous anticipation for what lay ahead. One chapter was over—a new one was about to begin.

Now, remembering that conversation, he closed his eyes and tipped his face to the shower spray. Today was the first day of the rest of his life. It was up to him what he made of it…whether he went his own way or allowed old ghosts and new pressures to trap him into something he knew he didn’t want. This posting to Cornwall had bought him some extra time. Time he intended to use wisely, making the decisions that would set the course of his future.

Shutting off the water, he stepped out of the cubicle and reached for a towel, hesitating when he heard a noise downstairs. It had sounded like the front door closing. Frowning, Gabriel waited, listening. Yes, there was definitely someone moving around inside the house. More curious than concerned, he wrapped the towel around his waist and left his bedroom, moving silently down the stairs to investigate the trespass into his new domain. The noises were louder now. He tiptoed in the direction from which they came, pausing in the shadows of the unlit passageway to look through the door into a large, homely farmhouse kitchen.

A brindle-and-white greyhound lay on the stone-flagged floor, its head on its paws, solemnly watching the movements of the woman who was moving about as if she owned the place. Guessing her age to be in the late twenties, Gabriel’s gaze lingered on her with as much intensity as the dog’s, warmth and pure masculine appreciation spearing through him, catching him by surprise.

A bunch of home-cut flowers, dahlias and chrysanthemums amongst them, were arranged haphazardly in an old stoneware jug on the table, while several carrier bags littered the polished wooden work surfaces. Humming an unrecognisable tune, the woman busied herself stocking the kitchen cupboards with her purchases, her movements athletically graceful. Tight white jeans accentuated the length of her legs and lovingly moulded the rounded swell of her derrière. As she turned round, still unaware of his presence, he could see how the super-soft angora jumper she wore skimmed her shapely frame, outlining the curves of full, firm breasts. The lavender colour set off the natural paler highlights in her light brown hair and lent an amethyst glow to what he could see, even from this distance, were gorgeous grey eyes. Gabriel was mesmerised. Who was this woman?

Picking up a carton of milk and a box of eggs, she twirled her way to the fridge on trainer-clad feet, presenting him with a delectable view of her feminine curves as she bent over, her hips swaying provocatively to the music she heard in her head. Left loose, her wavy hair cascaded round her shoulders in a darkly golden curtain. She flicked it back with one hand as she rose and returned to the counter, still humming to herself as she delved into the carrier bags once more.

Intrigued, Gabriel stepped into the room. The dog was the first to acknowledge him. Anxious brown eyes turned his way, then the too-thin creature whined and all but crawled towards the woman, who leaned down to stroke it with gentle care.

‘What’s wrong, Foxy?’

Knowing whatever he did was going to startle her, Gabriel cleared his throat, announcing his presence as he walked forward. ‘Hello.’

With a shocked cry, the woman swung round, the pack of pasta shells in her hands dropping to the floor. Beautiful smoky grey eyes widened between long, dark lashes as she stared at him, and lushly kissable lips parted in surprise. Her tongue-tip peeped out to moisten them as she stepped back a pace, one hand dropping to calm the fretful dog pressed against her legs, the other curled to a fist at her throat. Gabriel felt her gaze skim over his scantily clad frame and an unexpected but immediate wave of attraction crashed through him.

‘I’m sorry.’ He offered a smile with the apology, unable to look away from her. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard a noise down here and had no idea anyone was around.’

‘OK. Um…hello,’ she greeted after a moment, her voice melodious but with a husky undertone that appealed to him. Hell, everything about her appealed to him. ‘You must be Dr Devereux. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,’ she continued, bending to pick up the fallen pasta, fumbling briefly as she set it awkwardly back on the counter. With a sudden smile that had the same effect on him as a punch to the solar plexus, she held out her hand. ‘I’m Lauren Nightingale…your neighbour at Gatehouse Cottage and also physiotherapist at the Penhally Bay Surgery.’

This was the woman Nick Tremayne had spoken of? Ooh la la! ‘Lauren, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Gabriel,’ he invited, trying to pull himself together and remember his manners.

Closing the remaining gap between them, he took her graceful hand in his. Her grip was strong, her fingers slender but capable. Looking down, he noted how much paler her warm, satiny skin was than his, how her bones were far more delicate. A jolt of electricity zinged up his arm and along his nerve endings at the contact between them. That Lauren felt it, too, was apparent by the way she bit her lip, her pupils dilating, her body momentarily swaying towards him before she caught herself and pulled back, withdrawing her hand. Gabriel released her with reluctance.

Close to, she was taller than he had realised, five-seven or -eight, he judged, and even more attractive than he had first thought. She had an earthy allure quite unlike the sophisticated, deliberate beauty of some of the Parisian women he had dated in the past but vastly more entrancing and natural. A subtle, floral scent—sweet peas, he recognised—mingled with her unique femininity, teasing and enticing him. No make-up was needed to enhance her flawless skin. Pale gold from a fading summer tan, it looked as smooth as silk. His fingers longed to touch, to discover if she was as warm and soft all over as her hand had felt in his. He struggled to rein back the runaway thoughts but it wasn’t easy when every particle of his being hummed with awareness while she studied him as closely as he had regarded her.

Dr Gabriel Devereux was the most delicious surprise!

Fearing that her legs would not hold her upright much longer, Lauren leaned against the kitchen counter and affected what she hoped was a nonchalant pose. She didn’t feel remotely nonchalant. Any minute now she was going to do something uncharacteristically shocking, impulsive and embarrassing… like throw herself wantonly into his arms and ravish him.

Gabriel’s sudden arrival had taken her off guard. She was disconcerted that she had not been aware of his presence and wondered how long he had stood there watching her. But the fact that she had not seen him in the shadows and had only formed a distinct visual impression when he had stepped into the brightly lit kitchen stirred inner anxieties she was unwilling to deal with. That he was wearing only an ivory towel was a suitable diversion, however, and she grabbed the excuse to ignore her disturbing concerns, unable to resist the temptation to observe him in detail.

She saw bare bodies, or bits of bodies, every working day, but she had never seen one that made her heart hammer, her mouth water and that robbed her of breath as Gabriel’s did. Goodness! Her hands clung to the counter as she greedily inspected him. She feared she was about to melt into a puddle at his feet. Nice feet, too, she couldn’t help but notice. Very nice. Like the rest of him. Her gaze slowly climbed back up his scrumptious frame.

Strong, lean legs were braced hip-width apart and the towel slung low around his hips revealed a tantalising glimpse of pleasingly muscled, hair-brushed thighs. A narrow line of dark hair in the centre of his flat stomach dipped past his navel and disappeared below the towel. She licked her lips, resisting the urge to touch as she looked over his perfect athletic body, toned abdomen, well-defined chest and broad shoulders, all supple flesh and rippling muscle. He’d clearly just stepped out of the shower as droplets of water glistened on his delicious dark caramel skin, its colour hinting at a French Caribbean ancestry. Lauren swallowed, battling against the overwhelming desire to press her lips to that warm, damp masculine flesh. She still remembered the faint scent of him when they had been close and shaken hands…tangy citrus soap and clean male, heady and earthy and arousing.

Topping six feet, he was more than impressive. The close-cropped dark hair suited him, accentuating the classically beautiful but supremely masculine bone structure of his face, the slash of high cheekbones, the straight nose and the carved lines of his jaw. Her palm itched to smooth over his head, to feel if the razor-short hair was rough or soft to the touch. His mouth was undeniably sexy, his bronze lips sensually curved and designed for kissing. She yearned to press her own against them, to learn the shape and feel and taste of him.

Twin dimples creased his cheeks when he smiled, while laughter lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, adding character and hinting at an active sense of humour. Finally, she looked into those thickly lashed eyes. They were the richest brown she had ever seen. As Gabriel met and held her gaze, his pupils dilated, darkening the irises to the colour of finest coffee. The flare of masculine interest was unmistakable and caused a tightening ache of want in the pit of her stomach that was so strong and so sudden she barely suppressed a gasp.

What in the world had come over her? Yes, it had been a while since she had enjoyed male companionship. She had broken up with her long-term boyfriend, Martin Bennett, six months ago, but to all intents and purposes they had been apart a long time before that. They had gone their separate ways amicably, both knowing their lingering on-again-off-again relationship had been based more on old friendship than grand passion and had been leading nowhere. Martin was desperate to get out of Cornwall, to explore and experience new things, while Lauren was content to remain in Penhally, enjoying her job, her friends and her hobbies, including her painting.

Unwelcome and worrying thoughts intruded once more. She hadn’t painted much lately and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to face the reasons why. Determinedly, she returned her full attention to the exquisite man before her, a quiver running through her at his thorough inspection, as if he had touched her physically.

Since midwife KateAlthorp had met Gabriel at Nick’s house in the summer, she had reported that Penhally was in for a treat when the French doctor arrived in their midst. Kate’s comments had caused some of their colleagues to tease Lauren about her soon-to-be neighbour. Lauren had ignored the ribbing. But now she could acknowledge first hand that Kate had not been exaggerating. Dear heaven, the man was gorgeous!

That Gabriel Devereux would be close by, at home and at work, for the next twelve months was wonderfully thrilling. Already the year ahead was filled with new and unexpected possibilities. Everything feminine within her stood to attention and all the hormones that had been switched off and uninterested since long before her split from Martin now started doing a happy dance like over-enthusiastic cheerleaders. She looked into Gabriel’s eyes, excited by the answering desire she saw there. Oh, yes! She was most definitely interested! She just hoped he was in England alone, uninvolved, and had no wife or girlfriend tucked away at home in France.

‘It is kind of you to bring things for the kitchen, Lauren,’ Gabriel said, the dimples forming in his lean cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

She could drown in that smile. And as for his accent, the way he said her name… He made her tingle all over. His English was perfect but delivered with a soft burr and all the Gallic charm imaginable. There was so much she wanted to learn about him but she reined in her rush of questions, scared that she would frighten him away before he’d even properly arrived. There would be time in the days and weeks ahead to explore the inexplicable and immediate connection she felt with this man. Or so she hoped. Better to play it cool for now.

‘It’s no trouble,’ she answered, not sure how she managed to form any words at all, let alone sensible ones. ‘I promised Nick I would make sure you had all you needed.’

Relaxed and at ease, he folded his arms across his chest, the play of muscle distracting her. ‘Thank you. I am sorry I took you by surprise arriving early.’

‘No problem.’ Returning his smile, she couldn’t prevent herself looking over his superb body once more. Oh, it was no problem at all!

‘Are you also responsible for airing the house and providing the clean linen and towels?’

‘Yes.’ Almost overcome with nervous anticipation, she tucked some strands of hair behind one ear, her hand unsteady. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Very much so. I was planning to ask the solicitor who to thank for making the house feel so welcoming.’

‘I’m glad to help,’ she assured him, warmed through and pleased by his thoughtfulness.

He watched her for a long moment, then glanced at the greyhound who whined and nudged against her legs. ‘And who is your companion?’

‘This is Foxy. He lost his owner in the flood and was found distressed after searching the rubble,’ she explained, a catch in her voice as she gently stroked the dog. ‘Both the RSPCA and Lizzie Chamberlain, who runs the local kennels, were overrun with extra work and animals needing help during the crisis. Foxy was always nervous of people, but he knew me and we bonded, so I was happy to give him a home. He’s adjusting but still wary. At least he’s started eating again. He needs time and lots of love.’

The approval and flash of admiration in Gabriel’s eyes made her feel good. She held her breath as he turned his attention to Foxy. Speaking softly, he hunkered down and held out his hand for the dog to sniff. Calm and patient, he waited for the dog to be comfortable, making no sudden moves. Lauren was surprised and delighted when Foxy inched forward and allowed Gabriel to touch him, something he had permitted few people but her to do in the last ten days. Slowly he was forming a tentative bond with her friends Chloe and Oliver. Foxy’s current reaction and his instinct to trust Gabriel was more than interesting and told her much about this intriguing man.

As if satisfied with the early progress, Gabriel didn’t push things, moving carefully back and rising before returning his attention to her, causing her heart to pound once more.

‘Nick mentioned the flood in an email but I had no idea how bad things were. I was shocked when I drove through town.’ He paused, a pout of consideration shaping his mouth and giving her all manner of wicked ideas. ‘Are you busy this afternoon, Lauren? Do you have plans?’

‘No. Why?’ She was filled with sudden hope that she might be able to spend more time with Gabriel. She wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

‘I was going to make myself a late lunch. Will you join me? It would be good to talk, to learn more about Penhally and the surgery…and what has gone on in the last couple of weeks.’

Not wanting to appear as shamefully eager as she felt, she forced herself not to rush her agreement. Maybe Gabriel’s reasons for asking her to linger weren’t all she had hoped for, but at this point she would accept any opportunity to enjoy his company. Who knew where things might lead?

‘OK.’ She cursed the breathlessness of her voice but could do nothing to temper her excitement. ‘I can stay a while longer.’

At Lauren’s confirmation, Gabriel felt a wash of relief course through him and he expelled the breath he had not realised he had been holding. He was nowhere near ready to let her go. This was ridiculous. He felt like some gauche sixteen-yearold boy with a crush, rather than the thirty-six-year-old man he really was. Then Lauren looked over him once more and his body instantly heated and tightened in response, as if her touch had been an actual caress. He hoped the loose towel hid the evidence of the arousing effect she had on him.

‘Give me five minutes to get dressed,’ he requested as he turned away and headed to the door.

‘Gabriel?’

Her soft voice halted him and he glanced back. ‘Yes?’

‘I could prepare a quick meal while you’re gone,’ she offered.

‘Are you sure?’

Her head bobbed in assent. ‘It’s no trouble. Is there anything you don’t like?’

Dieu! He couldn’t imagine anything Lauren could suggest that he wouldn’t like, but he managed to focus his attention on food. ‘Mushrooms, shellfish and red meat,’ he informed her, catching her surprised smile.

‘Me, too.’ Mischief gleamed in her eyes. ‘And I confess I’m not keen on boiled cabbage, tapioca or mushy peas either.’

‘Believe me, Lauren, you are not alone!’ Chuckling, he left the room.

‘I certainly hope not—not any more.’

Had he really heard those final whispered words? And could they mean what he hoped they did? He was confused by his instinctive response to this woman. It was unlike him. And that was disturbing. He’d not been so spontaneously attracted to anyone for years—if ever. The timing was unfortunate. He had never considered such a thing happening to him, especially not while part of his world was in turmoil and he had decisions to make about his future. Coming here was meant to give him space to declutter his life, not add more complications to it.

But he couldn’t deny the way his body had reacted to the sight, scent and sound of Lauren Nightingale. Anxious to dress and return to the kitchen as quickly as possible, Gabriel hurried up the stairs. Had he dreamed it all? What if the sizzle of electricity between himself and Lauren had been a figment of his overactive imagination? What if it wasn’t? He was here for a year. To work. To think. Did he even want to consider any kind of involvement? He hadn’t been at the Manor House an hour and already he was feeling alive at an unexpected awareness, filled with a sense of wary excitement at the possibilities that might lie ahead.

Perhaps it had just been too long since he had dated a woman. After his most recent experience with Adèle, and with his mother’s continued interference, he had become cautious, untrusting. But that had been a year ago. And Lauren knew nothing about his life—or his family circumstances. More importantly, Yvette, his mother, knew nothing about Lauren. If anything happened between them, it would be because of who and what they were…no ulterior motives, no deception, no scheming.

Unzipping a suitcase, he pulled out fresh clothes and dressed in record time, favouring casual jeans and a warm cashmere jumper. As he made his way out of his bedroom, tantalising aromas teased his senses and sharpened his hunger, and he increased his pace, keen to discover both the food awaiting him and the intriguing woman who was preparing it.

Lauren occupied his thoughts. He would be cautious about rushing into anything, but he wanted to spend time with her, to get to know her better. If the connection and charge of desire he had felt between them was real…

CHAPTER TWO

LAUREN set the plate of food she had prepared on the table in the rustic kitchen and tried very hard not to stare at Gabriel. An impossible feat. He looked almost as gorgeous with his clothes on…and just as impressive. The sweater he wore—over the kind of faded, body-hugging jeans that ought to be made illegal, so lethal were they to a woman’s blood pressure—looked expensive, the mulberry colour warming and flattering the espresso-coffee tones of his skin.

He sat down, a quizzical expression on his face as he noted she had only laid one place. ‘You are not eating, Lauren?’

‘No.’ The breathlessness was back in her voice—an uncharacteristic reaction that seemed to afflict her at every sight and sound of Gabriel Devereux. ‘I met up with friends in town. We had soup and sandwiches at the farmers’ market.’

‘But you will join me here, yes?’ He drew out the chair nearest to him before extending a hand and inviting her to sit.

Gratified by his suggestion to be near him, Lauren hastened to take her seat, hoping she looked far less flustered than she felt. ‘Thank you.’ For goodness’ sake. She was a thirty-year-old woman, not some blushing schoolgirl!

‘Forgive me tucking right in, I’m hungrier than I thought.’ The appreciative look he sent her, and the readiness of his smile, heated her right through. So much for cool, calm maturity. ‘This looks and smells wonderful.’

Cooking was not her greatest talent, but Gabriel gave every evidence of liking her food. She’d made him a simple omelette with cheese and chives, serving it with a warmed granary roll, plus a tomato, rocket and watercress salad…all fresh ingredients she had picked up on her shopping trip that morning. He was eating with relish, his enjoyment making her smile with relief. And she had even more to be grateful for, she admitted to herself—she’d not had any accidents or set fire to the kitchen which, given her current run of clumsy faux pas, was a major achievement.

Foxy, having quenched his thirst from the bowl of water she had set down for him, now sprawled his long, too-skinny body beside her chair, his paws twitching in his sleep, blissfully unconcerned by the electrically charged atmosphere crackling between the two humans. Lauren couldn’t help but be aware of it. Aware of Gabriel. She was glad she had made herself some tea. It gave her something to do with her hands. Anything to avoid the temptation—the compulsion—to touch him. She cupped the mug, watching from beneath her lashes as he finished his meal. When she raised the mug to her lips and took a sip of her drink, she looked up to find mocha eyes watching her intently, and a fresh dart of feminine recognition zinged through her body.

‘That was delicious.’ Gabriel’s smile and sexy accent undid her every time. ‘Thank you, Lauren.’

‘My pleasure.’

After taking a drink from his glass of water, he turned so he was facing her, giving her his undivided attention. She could feel fresh heat tinge her cheeks. ‘It seems a long time since breakfast.’

‘Did you come over from France this morning?’ she ventured, struggling to appear cool and composed.

‘I took the chance of an earlier ferry from Cherbourg to Poole yesterday, then I stayed the night with an old friend in Bournemouth before driving down here today.’

A bleakness shadowed his eyes, so fleeting it was gone before she could be sure. But she was left with a sense that there was more to Gabriel’s departure from France than he had let on. She wondered what had happened, and whether there was a woman involved.

Instead of satisfying her curiosity and asking outright, she endeavoured to be more subtle. ‘Wouldn’t getting a ferry to Plymouth have been easier?’

‘Not really. Cherbourg is only about thirty or forty minutes from where I was based in St Ouen-sur-Mer. If I had gone to Plymouth, it would have meant a long drive through France to Roscoff and almost twice as long for the Channel crossing.’ His eyes twinkled as he sent her a wry smile. ‘I am not the best traveller on ferries! And I prefer to be in control of my own destiny. Besides, the drive down from Dorset to Cornwall today gave me the opportunity to reaccustom myself to English roads.’

‘How did you come to take this job?’ she asked, propping her chin in one hand as she looked at him.

‘I volunteered.’ Pushing his empty plate aside, he leaned closer and rested one forearm on the table. ‘I was only working in St Ouen-sur-Mer on a temporary basis to help out a friend from medical school. François is head of the clinic and his wife, Celeste, is also a doctor there. Another of the partners, Marianne, had a baby last Christmas and was on maternity leave. Then, in early January, François badly broke his leg in a skiing accident. He was having trouble finding a replacement doctor, so he called me. As I had reason to leave Paris for a while, I was happy to provide cover. I’ve been there ever since. But now François is back on his feet and Marianne is ready to return to work. It was time for me to move on.’

‘I see,’ Lauren murmured, toying with the handle of her mug. Clearly Gabriel was loyal to his friends and ready to help in a crisis, but she wondered what had made him so eager to leave Paris in a hurry at the start of the year. He had sounded relieved to have received François’s initial call…and now to be in Cornwall.

‘When the position came up to work here for a year, I was interested in taking it,’ he continued, and she lost herself in the sound of his huskily accented voice, captivated by the way he looked at her, maintaining eye contact as though she was interesting and important to him. ‘I speak English—’

‘Perfect English,’ she interjected, halting his explanation.

An amused smile curved his mouth at her praise. ‘Thank you, chérie.’

‘Sorry, I interrupted you.’ She smothered a groan of embarrassment.

‘That’s all right.’ Her skin tingled as Gabriel briefly reached out and whispered his fingertips across the back of her hand. She sucked in a shaky breath and struggled to concentrate as he continued to speak about his reasons for moving to Penhally. ‘I was the only doctor at the clinic who was single and without commitments…the others did not want to uproot their families to come here. And I’ve worked in England before—in London. I enjoyed it, but I was eager to experience small-town, rural medicine, too.’

Again Lauren thought there was more to the story than he had told her, but she was exceedingly glad he was here. She had also noted with a shiver of hopeful anticipation his comment that he was single and had no commitments. Surely that was a good sign? She had no idea why, but she had felt a deep connection with and recognition of this man from the outset.

‘So, Lauren, tell me about the flood.’ Gabriel broke the silence, drawing her from her thoughts. ‘What happened? How much damage has there been? You said Foxy’s owner was tragically killed but was anyone else hurt?’

Lauren huffed out a breath, taking a few moments as she wondered where to begin recounting the events of that never-to-be-forgotten and emotional day.

As Gabriel waited for Lauren to speak, he resisted the fierce urge to keep touching her, remembering how silky her skin had felt beneath his fingers. Instead, he reflected on what he had told her about himself and his reasons for coming to Cornwall, hoping he had said enough to curb her interest without giving away any of his secrets…or his inner turmoil.

It was true that the request from François in January to help out in his clinic on Normandy’s west coast could not have come at a better time. He had been deeply sorry for the injury that had caused François so many problems, but his friend’s need had provided Gabriel with the chance to leave Paris—and Yvette—far behind. Time away to come to terms with all he had suddenly learned about his family, and to put space between himself and home, had been exactly what he had needed. But that space had not proved great enough, so the offer to work in Penhally Bay had been even more welcome. The width of the English Channel would surely be a suitable barrier. Here in Cornwall he felt he could breathe again and hear himself think.

His early departure from France had been sparked by another summons from home—one more demand, one more threat he had chosen to ignore. Things were increasingly strained with his mother. Not that Yvette Devereux had ever been particularly motherly towards him, he reflected with a cynical twist of his lips. She had never been the warm, nurturing and understanding type, but always stiff, distant, with her rigid view of duty and propriety. Now he knew why.

A light touch on his arm startled him from his disturbing thoughts and he glanced up to find Lauren watching him with a frown on her face.

‘Are you all right, Gabriel?’

‘Yes, of course.’ His skin felt warm and alive long after her fingers had been withdrawn. He managed a smile, grateful for the interruption and thankful to push family troubles to the back of his mind again. ‘I was miles away. Please, you were going to explain the events of the last couple of weeks.’

‘You hear about these things happening, but you never expect them to affect your own community,’ she began, a serious tone to her voice. ‘We had no warning. The sky went black, there was thunder and lightning, and the most torrential rain I’ve ever seen or heard. It poured off everything. Combined with the run-off inland, something collapsed upstream and the deluge swelled watercourses, causing a flash flood that swept away everything in its path. The river Lanson burst its banks, funnelling massive amounts of earthy-black water laden with debris down through the centre of Penhally, hitting us full force.’

‘What happened to you?’ Gabriel asked with concern, noting how Lauren shivered, rubbing her forearms in reaction. ‘Were you caught out in it?’

‘I was lucky. I was visiting a patient at the time. The power went out, the telephone lines were down and mobile phone coverage was patchy, but I received a message to go to one of the two evacuation points. I spent the rest of the time at the school, helping out.’ She raised her gaze to his, her eyes registering grief. ‘It was really frightening. People were missing, we didn’t know what had happened to friends. There were a number of minor injuries, some more serious ones…and two people died.’

Gabriel listened to Lauren’s explanation of the disaster with shock. ‘Dieu. I had no idea things were so bad,’ he murmured, taking one of her trembling hands in his, needing to comfort, to touch her. ‘I am so sorry. It must have been horribly traumatic and such a loss for the whole community.’

‘Yes, it was. Is.’ Hearing the waver in her voice, he tightened his hold on her hand, linking their fingers and brushing the pad of his thumb across her wrist. ‘Audrey Baxter was one of our regular patients at the surgery. Elderly and with health problems, she was a bit of a busybody but she meant well. She had recently taken Foxy in as a companion from the rescue centre and having him helped her emotional well-being considerably. They helped each other, I suppose. Anyway, Audrey was caught outside when the flash flood came. She never stood a chance with that wall of water. The local vicar, Reverend Kenner, plunged in to try to save her, but he was lost, too, when the end of the Anchor Hotel collapsed on them. He was such a good man. He did a great deal for this community. And it was tragic for his daughter, Rachel. She’s just a teenager, and with her mother dying a few years ago her father was all she had. They were very close. Now she’s pregnant and alone. Her aunt and uncle in Plymouth are caring for her.’

‘Lauren,’ he murmured, wishing he had the words to ease the pain and horror of what she and the rest of the town had been through.

‘It’s all so unfair!’

‘I know.’ He stroked her arm, aware of the softness of her skin and the beat of her pulse. ‘Sometimes it is impossible to understand why these things happen.’

Her fingers returned the pressure of his and she looked at him with a sorrowful smile. ‘That’s the truth.’ She shook her head, a sigh escaping.

‘Thank goodness you had such excellent rescue aid or things could have been even worse for the town.’

‘Yes, we were very grateful. I think people are finding it hard to accept we’ve been affected like this again. It’s not that long since Penhally’s last great tragedy. The big storm ten years ago took many lives, including those of Kate Althorp’s husband James and Nick Tremayne’s father and brother.’

‘How are people coping now?’ Gabriel asked after a short silence, one that saw them both lost in thought.

‘A lot are still displaced after the flood. The caravan park above the cliffs on Mevagissey Road has taken in several families, while others are staying with relatives and friends or renting temporary accommodation.’

‘It looked as though much has been done to begin clearing up.’

Lauren nodded, her voice stronger again now. ‘Everyone has worked very hard. It’s amazing the mess and damage water can cause. I think it will be months before some of the homes are fit to be lived in again.’

‘Many of your patients must be needing extra care and understanding,’ Gabriel allowed, looking down at their joined hands, thankful that Lauren had not pulled away.

‘Yes, there’s been trauma and anxiety. And it’s hard for some to come to terms with losing irreplaceable and sentimental possessions. We also had to be careful because of things like polluted water and so on as some people failed to heed the safety advice in the aftermath.’

Gabriel watched as she tucked a couple of wayward strands of hair behind her ear. Adjusting his hold on her hand, he played with her fingers and traced a circle on her palm with his thumb, aware of the growing connection between them.

‘So, tell me about your regular patients,’ he suggested after a few moments, relieved to see a lightening of her expression.

He listened with interest as Lauren talked of little Timmy Morrison, nearly five months old and diagnosed at birth with cystic fibrosis, of eleven-year-old Paul Mitchell, coping spiritedly with Duchenne muscular dystrophy, and of older patients like Harry Biscombe in sheltered accommodation at Gow Court, with osteoporosis, whom she had been visiting when the flood had hit, and Stella Chamberlain, currently in the Harbour View Nursing Home with Parkinson’s disease.

‘Stella’s desperate to go home but it’s becoming impossible for her daughter Lizzie to cope. It’s very sad. We’re all doing the best we can to find the best solution for both Stella and Lizzie.’

Every word Lauren spoke, both about the regulars she visited at home and her more mobile and short-term patients who came to the surgery, revealed how dedicated she was and just how much she cared about each and every person. Minute by minute Gabriel was more impressed with Lauren Nightingale. Her natural beauty had first appealed to him and he had been unable to ignore the sparks of attraction that had crackled between them from the first moment. He had only just met her and yet the more he knew about her, the longer they talked, the more he respected and admired her as a person. She was funny, intelligent and caring. Genuine, without any airs or graces.

Meeting Lauren put an interesting and unexpected slant on his time in Cornwall. Her eyes reflected a feminine interest she made no effort to hide and he felt the answering response rise within him, one he had not felt in a long time. This might well turn out to be an even more interesting year than he had ever imagined.

‘I’m not sure which patients you’ll be seeing,’ Lauren told him now, explaining about the staffing at the surgery and how GP Dragan Lovak was taking time off to be with his wife after the recent birth of their baby boy. ‘I expect Nick will suggest you spend time with one of the other doctors this week—if you are lucky, it will be Oliver Fawkner.’ The affection in her voice as she mentioned the other doctor brought a flash of unexpected jealousy. ‘If Nick agrees, it would also be good if you could come out on house calls with various members of staff.’

‘Including you?’

‘Probably.’

His gaze caught hers. ‘I hope so.’

‘Me, too.’ She bit her lip, her eyes widening as she realised she had spoken aloud. He felt the kick of her pulse beneath his fingers as she hurried on. ‘There have been some changes due to the surgery expansion—you’ll see those when you look around on Monday. Immediately after the flood, Nick asked us all not to go out on calls after dark unless it was an emergency, because of all the debris and possible danger of unsafe buildings and falling masonry.’ Gabriel nodded, knowing it made sense not to put more people at risk than necessary. ‘That ban has been lifted since the clean-up started,’ Lauren continued. ‘But I’ve kept to the new schedule. It works for me and my patients now we have the new physiotherapy room. With Nick’s agreement, I do house calls that are required in the mornings and see patients at the surgery in the afternoons.’

‘So I’ll keep at least one morning free to go on visits with you.’

Gabriel’s statement brought fresh warmth to her cheeks. ‘OK,’ she agreed, already eager for the time they would spend together, even if it was work related. That he was so keen and interested in her patients and the work she did brought her a glow of pleasure.

He asked more questions about the surgery, staff and the town in general, and she was happy to answer them, to help him fit into his new role in a different country. They had clicked from the first and got on so well she felt she had known him for ever. Yet all the time there was the undercurrent of sexual tension, the hum of desire between them, and excitement bubbled inside her at what might happen.

She had not forgotten for a moment that her hand was still in his, their fingers entwined, but she had no desire to let go until he did. They talked about local activities and their hobbies, discovering shared interests in books and music. They both loved sport, but while Lauren was keen on running, swimming and cycling, Gabriel favoured team sports like football. She could listen to him for ever with that sexy accent and soft huskiness edging his voice.

‘So you jog every morning?’ he asked now, pulling her from her thoughts.

‘Yes, I try to do between three and five miles a day.’

‘I can see it keeps you fit.’

The knot in her stomach tightened as he looked her over, the expression in his melting brown eyes letting her know that he liked what he saw. ‘I try.’ She swallowed the restriction in her throat, a tingle running through her as his thumb began to brush across her palm and wrist once more. ‘I’ve done a few triathlons in the past but I don’t get the chance to compete much these days.’

‘Do you prefer to run alone, or do you enjoy company?’

‘Company is good,’ she murmured, hoping that meant he might join her one day. ‘If you still play football, you should talk to Oliver. He’s organising a charity match next weekend to raise money for the flood relief fund.’

‘That’s an excellent idea, I’ll do that. Lauren—’

Whatever Gabriel had been about to say was halted by the sudden beep of her mobile phone announcing an incoming text message. Lauren jumped at the intrusion, disappointed when her hand was released. Already she missed the contact between them. Beside her, Foxy stirred at the noise, stretching and yawning before rising to his feet and nudging her leg. Absently, she stroked his head with one hand while rummaging in her bag with the other to find her phone.

‘Sorry about this.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Gabriel reassured her, but he looked as regretful for the interruption as she was.

Sighing, Lauren tilted the phone, frowning as she concentrated on reading the message, aware it was harder to see the small letters illuminated on the screen than it had once been. Again, she pushed the concern away, unable to face the implications. The text, she discovered, was from her friend Chloe MacKinnon.

‘Worried you aren’t home yet. Any problems? Oliver says supper ready in an hour. Love C x’

Shocked, Lauren looked towards the windows and saw how dark it was outside. She glanced at her watch, stunned to discover the time. ‘Oh, my gosh!’

‘Everything all right?’ Gabriel asked.

‘I’d no idea it was this late. I’m so sorry, I’ve taken up all your afternoon!’

Laughing, his hand brushed her arm. ‘I’ve enjoyed every moment with you, Lauren. Thank you. I am the one who should apologise for detaining you.’

‘It’s fine. I just didn’t say I was delayed. I was expected home ages ago.’

‘I see.’ Gabriel moved back from her, disappointment dulling his eyes.

Her breath caught as she realised what he thought. ‘I’ve told you about my friends Chloe and Oliver, midwife and GP at the surgery?’ she asked, and he nodded. ‘They’re engaged and Oliver’s been living at Chloe’s cottage in Fisherman’s Row since the end of July. They were flooded out and have been staying with me since then,’ she rushed to explain, gratified to see relief lighten his expression.

‘So there’s no boyfriend waiting for you?’

‘No. There’s no one.’ She responded to his blunt question with equal clarity. ‘But I’d better get back.’

‘Of course.’

Reluctantly, she rose to her feet, unhooked her bag from the back of the chair and looped the strap over her shoulder. ‘Is there anything else I can do? Do you have all you need?’

She looked around the kitchen, hoping she had remembered everything.

‘It’s fine, Lauren. You have done so much and I appreciate it.’

‘If you think of anything…’

‘I’ll let you know,’ he promised with a smile.

‘I wrote out some phone numbers for you.’ Including her own, she added silently, pointing to the fridge where a piece of paper was held firm by a colourful Penhally magnet. With nothing else to prevent her leaving, she slipped on Foxy’s lead and turned towards the door. ‘I’d better go, then.’

She was acutely conscious of Gabriel following close behind her as she walked out of the kitchen. Pausing a moment, she formed a picture in her mind of the dim, unlit hallway and the route to the front door, trying to remember if there was anything in the way. She didn’t think so…provided she avoided the bottom tread of the stairs that stuck out a few inches on her left. Anxiety gripped her as she was faced with her failing night vision. She could fumble for an unseen light switch and risk drawing attention to her problem, or take a chance the hall was clear. She chose the latter.

A short while ago she had breezily told Gabriel about her altered working hours. What she had not told him was how she had used the cover of the flood disaster and completion of the new physio room to make her changed schedule permanent. A flicker of guilt assailed her for the deception and for hiding her real reasons from Nick and everyone else. She was afraid to venture out after dark and, with each passing autumn day, dusk was falling earlier. The only journey she felt able to make at night was from the surgery to her cottage, a route she knew so well she could cover every inch of the short distance with her eyes closed. Which was how it had felt lately in the dark. She was scared what it meant, but was unable to face the fact that something strange was happening to her sight. At some point, if it got worse, she would have to. She would never put other people in danger. But for now she could still cover it up.

After she had negotiated the hallway slowly but safely, Gabriel reached round her to open the door, momentarily bringing their bodies into close proximity and firing her blood once more. Before he could put on the outside light, she moved forward, missing her step, unable to see. For a second, she teetered off balance, then Gabriel’s arm was there to steady her. The light came on and she blinked, disoriented for a second, aware, when her vision sharpened, of the frown on his face.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes, fine,’ she assured him breathlessly. With caution, she stepped out of his hold and down the steps to the gravel drive. Needing to disguise her latest mishap, she turned back to smile at him. ‘There is something you should know about me before you hear it from anyone else.’

The wariness returned to his eyes and she could sense his tension. ‘What’s that?’

‘I’m renowned for being impossibly clumsy.’ She managed a passable laugh, trying not to think of her catalogue of stupid incidents. Unfortunately they seemed to be happening more and more often, her most recent examples being the moment she had inexplicably reversed into a parked car at the church after Jack and Alison’s wedding, and the way she had stumbled and fallen in the rubble the day after the flood. ‘Everyone teases me for being an accident waiting to happen.’

‘I’ll consider myself warned,’ Gabriel replied, his answering laugh not completely masking his confusion.

Eager to leave on a more positive note, Lauren lingered. ‘If you have nothing else planned, would you like to come for lunch tomorrow? You can meet Chloe and Oliver…get to know them before work on Monday.’

‘I’d love to.’ A teasing glint flickered in his eyes. ‘Not the roast beef?’

‘No! Chicken and all the trimmings. And Chloe is doing one of her special puddings,’ she told him, laughing back.

‘What time?’

‘About noon?’ She tried to sound casual, but already she was brimming with excitement at seeing him again.

‘I’ll be there,’ he promised, making her pulse race. ‘Would you like me to walk you back?’

She would, but she didn’t want him witnessing her tripping again. ‘Thanks, but there’s no need.’

‘Until tomorrow, then.’ His voice dropped to a rough murmur. ‘Au revoir, chérie.’

‘Bye.’

She felt him watching her as she walked carefully down the drive, Foxy well behaved at her side. Silently, she counted her steps, having made this journey before. She knew that when she reached the curve, the lights in her cottage would guide her home, but the knowledge that she was seeing less and less at night filled her with silent fear. How long could she hide her secret?

A sigh of relief escaped when her cottage came into view and she picked up her pace, more sure of herself, keen to tell Chloe and Oliver about the exciting new doctor. It was awful that the flood had driven her friends from their home. Chloe had been more upset at her missing cats, but one of the members of the rescue team had found Pirate and Cyclops unscathed on top of a wardrobe upstairs as the waters receded. In the days since they had moved in, Foxy and the cats had negotiated a cautious stand-off.

Until Chloe and Oliver found a suitable new home, Lauren was happy for them to stay with her. She enjoyed their company. But she wondered if things might get a bit awkward should anything develop between herself and Gabriel. There was plenty of time to worry about that, she reassured herself, knowing she shouldn’t get too excited even though their first meeting had left her in no doubt about the connection between them. However foolish, she sensed that something unusual and important could evolve in the days and weeks ahead.

‘We were going to send out a search party!’ Chloe teased when Lauren let herself in, took off Foxy’s lead and walked into the living room.

Her friend was cuddled up in Oliver’s lap on the sofa in front of a roaring log fire. It didn’t take a genius to know from their rumpled clothes and tousled hair what they had been doing with their extra time alone. Lauren was delighted for Chloe but it was ironic that her friend—who had suffered an abusive past at the hands of her brutal father, and who had remained a virgin until Oliver had come into her life—had enjoyed a more varied and extensive sex life in three months than Lauren had in ten years. She didn’t begrudge Chloe her happiness and pleasure for a moment, but she wouldn’t half mind being as lucky.

An image of a certain scrumptious French doctor filled her mind. Oh, yes! Now, there was a man with va-va-voom, one who would surely know how to make a woman feel special. Unable to stop smiling, Lauren sank into an armchair. Her heart was still pounding.

‘Sorry you were concerned. I got held up. Dr Devereux had just arrived when I took the shopping up to the Manor House. I stayed for a chat.’

‘Some chat,’ Chloe commented with a meaningful grin that had Oliver laughing and Lauren’s cheeks warming. ‘Come on, tell us what happened.’

Nothing…and yet everything. But Lauren didn’t know how to explain that. ‘We talked about the surgery, Penhally and the flood. Gabriel’s coming here for lunch tomorrow. I told him about your football match, Oliver, and he’s keen to play.’

‘Great! Thanks, Lauren. Nick has suggested that Gabriel shadow me next week, so it will be good to meet him in advance.’

‘But what’s he like?’ Chloe persisted.

Lauren leaned back and sighed, unable to keep her smile from broadening. ‘Absolutely divine.’

No way was she going to last out Gabriel’s time here without being a very bad girl.

Hopefully.

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