Once Upon a Christmas
Sarah Morgan
What's your number one Christmas wish? Bryony’s daughter has put a dad on her Christmas list. That leaves Bryony with one month to find the perfect man, so this year she’s wishing for a miracle! While she’s looking for love, her best friend Helen is doing the opposite.Her Christmas wish is to forget all about the white dress hanging in her wardrobe – and her faithless rat of a fiancé. Helen and Bryony’s festive cheer definitely needs a boost, so it’s lucky that once upon a Christmas, wishes really do come true…Praise for Sarah Morgan “Sarah Morgan puts the magic in Christmas” – Now“Full of romance and sparkle” – Lovereading'Morgan is a magician with words' - RT Book Reviews'Sarah Morgan continues to hang out on my autobuy list and each book of her that I discover is a treat' – Smart Bitches, Trashy Books'Morgan's brilliant talent never ceases to amaze' - RT Book Reviews'Dear Ms Morgan, I'm always on the lookout for a new book by you…' – Dear Author'Definitely looking forward to more from Sarah Morgan' – Smexy Books
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
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.
Once Upon a Christmas
Sarah Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Part One
PROLOGUE
‘MUMMY, I’ve written my letter to Santa.’
Bryony tucked the duvet round her daughter and clicked on the pink bedside light. A warm glow spread across the room, illuminating a small mountain of soft toys and dressing-up clothes. ‘Sweetheart, it’s only just November. Don’t you think it’s a little early to be writing to Santa?’
‘All the decorations are in the shops. I saw them with Grandma.’
Bryony picked up a fairy outfit that had been abandoned in a heap on the floor. ‘Shops are different, Lizzie.’ She slipped the dress onto a hanger and put it safely in the wardrobe. ‘They always start selling things early. It’s still ages until Christmas.’
‘But I know what I want, so I thought I might as well write to him now.’ Lizzie reached for the stuffed mermaid that she always slept with. ‘And anyway, this present is special so he might need some time to find exactly the right one.’
‘Special?’ Bryony gave a groan and picked up the book they’d been reading all week. ‘Go on.’ Her tone was indulgent. ‘Hit me with it, Lizzie. What is it this time—a horse?’ She toed off her shoes and curled up on the end of her daughter’s bed with a smile. This was the best time of the day. Just the two of them, and Lizzie all warm and cuddly in her pink pyjamas. She smelt of shampoo and innocence, and when she was tucked up in bed she seemed younger somehow, less like a seven-year-old who was growing up too fast.
‘Not a horse.’ Lizzie snuggled down, her blonde curls framing her pretty face. ‘Bigger.’
‘Bigger than a horse?’ Bryony’s eyes twinkled. ‘You’re scaring me, Lizzie. What if Santa can’t find this special present?’
‘He will.’ Lizzie spoke with the conviction of youth. ‘You said that Santa always gives you what you ask for if you’re good.’
‘Ah—did I say that?’ Bryony took a deep breath and made a mental note to concentrate more when she answered her daughter’s questions in future. ‘Well, it does depend on what you ask for,’ she hedged, and Lizzie’s face fell.
‘You said he always gives you what you ask for if you’re good.’
‘Well, he certainly does his best,’ Bryony said finally, compromising slightly and hoping that the request wasn’t going to be too outlandish. Her doctor’s salary was generous, but she was a single mother and she had to watch her expenditures. ‘Do you want to show me this letter?’
‘I’ve sent it already.’
‘You’ve sent it?’ Bryony looked at her daughter in surprise. ‘Where did you post it?’
‘I went into the post office with Grandma and they said that if I posted it there it would go all the way to Santa in Lapland.’
‘Oh.’ Bryony smiled weakly, her heart sinking. ‘So it’s gone, then.’
Which meant that there would be no chance to talk Lizzie out of whatever it was that she’d chosen that was obviously going to cost a fortune and be impossible to find in the wilds of the Lake District.
Bryony sensed a trip to London coming on. Unless the internet could oblige.
‘Uh-huh.’ Lizzie nodded. ‘And he’s got until Christmas to sort it out.’
‘Right. Are you going to give me a clue?’
‘You’ll like it, I know you will.’
‘Is it something messy?’
‘Nope.’
‘Something pink?’ Everything in her daughter’s life was pink so it was a fairly safe bet that whatever was top of her Christmas list would be pink.
Lizzie shook her head and her eyes shone. ‘Not pink.’
Not pink?
Feeling distinctly uneasy, Bryony hoped that her mother had managed to sneak a look at the letter before it was ‘posted’ otherwise none of them were going to have the first clue what Lizzie wanted for Christmas.
‘I’d really like to know, sweetheart,’ she said casually, flipping through the pages of the book until she found where they’d left off the night before. She wondered whether the post office had binned the letter. At this rate she was going to have to go and ask for it back.
‘OK. I’ll tell you, because it’s sort of for you, too.’
Bryony held her breath, hoping desperately that it wasn’t a pet. Her life was so frantic she absolutely didn’t have time to care for an animal on top of everything else. A full-time job and single parenthood was the most she could manage and sometimes she struggled with that.
A pet would be the final straw.
But then she looked at Lizzie’s sweet face and felt totally overwhelmed by love. More than anything she wanted her daughter to be happy and if that meant cleaning out a rabbit …
‘Whatever it is you want,’ Bryony said softly, reaching out and stroking her daughter’s silken curls with a gentle hand, ‘I’m sure Santa will get it for you. You’re such a good girl and I love you.’
‘I love you, too, Mummy.’ Lizzie reached up and hugged her and Bryony felt a lump building in her throat.
‘OK.’ She extracted herself and gave her daughter a bright smile. ‘So, what is it you want for Christmas?’
Lizzie lay back on the pillow, a contented smile spreading across her face. ‘A daddy,’ she breathed happily. ‘For Christmas this year, I really, really want a daddy. And I know that Santa is going to bring me one.’
CHAPTER ONE
‘SIX-MONTH-OLD baby coming in with breathing difficulties.’ Bryony replaced the phone that connected the accident and emergency department direct to Ambulance Control and turned to the A and E sister. ‘That’s the third one today, Nicky.’
‘Welcome to A and E in November.’ The other woman pulled a face and slipped her pen back in her pocket. ‘One respiratory virus after another. Wait until the weather gets really cold. Then everyone falls over on the ice. Last year we had forty-two wrist fractures in one day.’
Bryony laughed. ‘Truly?’
‘Truly. And you wouldn’t laugh if you’d been working here then,’ Nicky said dryly as they walked towards the ambulance bay together. ‘It was unbelievable. I wanted to go out with a loudhailer and tell everyone to stay at home.’
As she finished speaking they heard the shriek of an ambulance siren, and seconds later the doors to the department crashed open and the paramedics hurried in with the baby.
‘Take her straight into Resus,’ Bryony ordered, taking one look at the baby and deciding that she was going to need help on this one. ‘What’s the story?’
‘She’s had a cold and a runny nose for a couple of days,’ the paramedic told her. ‘Temperature going up and down, and then all of a sudden she stopped taking any fluids and tonight the mother said she stopped breathing. Mother came with us in the ambulance—she’s giving the baby’s details to Reception.’
‘Did she call the GP?’
‘Yes, but he advised her to call 999.’
‘Right.’ Bryony glanced at Nicky. ‘Let’s get her undressed so that I can examine her properly. I want her on a cardiac monitor and a pulse oximeter—I need to check her oxygen saturation.’
‘She’s breathing very fast,’ Nicky murmured as she undid the poppers on the baby’s sleepsuit. ‘Poor little mite, she’s really struggling. I suppose we ought to call Jack—even though calling him will massage his ego.’
Bryony looked at the baby, saw the bluish tinge around her lips and heard the faint grunting sound as she breathed.
‘Call him,’ she said firmly. ‘This baby is sick.’
Very sick.
She didn’t care if they massaged Jack’s ego. She trusted his opinion more than anyone else’s and not just because he was the consultant and she was a casualty officer with only four months’ A and E experience behind her. Jack Rothwell was an incredibly talented doctor.
Nicky finished undressing the baby and then picked up the phone on the wall and dialled, leaving Bryony to carry out her examination. She watched the baby breathing for a moment and then placed her stethoscope in her ears, strands of blonde hair falling forward as she bent and listened to the child’s chest.
When she finally unhooked the stethoscope from her ears, Jack was standing opposite, looking at her with that lazy, half-bored expression in his blue eyes that always drove women crazy.
And she was no exception.
She’d known him for twenty-two years and still her knees went weak when he walked into a room. She’d often tried to work out why. Was it the sexy smile? The wicked blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled? The glossy dark hair? The broad shoulders? Or was it his sense of humour, which had her smiling almost all the time? Eventually she’d come to the conclusion that it was everything. The whole drop-dead-gorgeous, confident masculine package that was Jack Rothwell.
When she’d started working in A and E in the summer, she’d been worried about how it would feel to work with a man she’d known all her life. She was worried that finally working together would feel odd. But it didn’t.
She’d fast discovered that Jack at work was the same as Jack not at work. Clever, confident and wickedly sexy.
‘So, Blondie,’ his deep masculine tones were loaded with humour. ‘You need some help?’
Blondie …
Bryony grinned. He’d called her ‘Blondie’ when she’d been five years old, and now she was twenty-seven he was still calling her ‘Blondie’. She’d even had a brush with being brunette at one point in her teens but it had made no difference. He’d still called her ‘Blondie’. It was one of the things she loved about their friendship. The way he teased her. It made her feel special. And, anyway, it meant that she could tease him back.
‘This baby’s sick.’
‘Which is presumably why she’s in hospital,’ Jack drawled, leaning across and reaching for her stethoscope, the fabric of his shirt moulding lovingly to the hard muscle of his shoulders. Despite his teasing words his eyes were on the baby, looking, assessing, mentally cataloguing his findings.
Bryony watched him with admiration and more than a touch of envy. His instincts were so good. If anyone she loved ever ended up in A and E, the doctor she’d want them to see would be Jack. He had a brilliant brain and an amazing ability to identify medical problems based on seemingly scanty information. And she’d learned more from him in her four months in A and E than she had from any other doctor in her career so far.
‘So what did you notice, Blondie? Apart from the fact that there’s a little patient on the trolley?’
He stood back while Nicky attached leads to the baby’s chest and connected them to the monitor.
‘She’s cyanosed, has intercostal recession and she’s grunting,’ Bryony said immediately, her eyes on the baby. ‘Her resps are 60 per minute and she’s becoming exhausted.’
Jack nodded, his eyes flickering to the monitor, which was now operational and giving them further clues to the baby’s condition.
‘She has acute bronchiolitis. We need to get a line in this baby fast,’ he ordered softly, holding out a hand to Nicky who immediately proffered the necessary equipment. He handed it to Bryony. ‘Go on. Impress me.’
‘You want me to do it?’ Bryony looked at those tiny arms and legs and shook her head. ‘I’d rather you did it.’
She could see how ill the baby was and she didn’t have the confidence that she’d get the line in first time. She knew Jack could. And with the baby that sick, his skill was more important than her need to practise.
His eyes narrowed and his gaze was suddenly serious. ‘Don’t doubt yourself,’ he said softly, his blue eyes searching as he read her mind. ‘Do it.’
He was still holding out the equipment and Bryony sucked in a breath. ‘Jack, I—’
‘Can do it,’ he said calmly, those wicked blue eyes locking on hers. ‘In three months’ time you’re going to be working on the paediatric ward and you’re going to be taking blood all the time. You need the practise. Go for it.’
Bryony hesitated and Jack lifted an eyebrow, his blue eyes mocking.
‘You want me to hold your hand?’ His voice was a lazy drawl and Bryony blushed. How could he be so relaxed? But she knew the answer to that, of course. During her time in the A and E department she’d learned that panic did nothing to improve a tense situation and she’d also learned that Jack’s totally laid-back attitude to everything rubbed off on the rest of the staff. As a result, they operated as a smooth, efficient team.
Looking at the baby, Bryony bit her lip and lifted the child’s tiny wrist.
‘Relax. Take your time.’ Jack closed long, strong fingers around the baby’s wrist and squeezed. ‘OK. Here’s one for you. What do you call a blonde with half a brain?’
Bryony was concentrating on the baby’s wrist. She found a tiny, thready vein and wondered how she was ever going to hit such a tiny target. It seemed almost impossible.
‘Gifted,’ Jack said cheerfully, squinting down at the baby’s hand. ‘You’ll be fine. She’s got good veins. Stop dithering and just do it.’
So she did and the needle slid smoothly into the tiny vein on her first attempt.
Relief and delight flooded through her.
‘I did it.’ She looked up, unable to hide her pride, and Jack smiled, his eyes creasing at the corners.
‘As I said. Gifted. Now you just need the confidence to go with it. You’re a good doctor. Believe in yourself.’ His eyes held hers for a moment and then he looked at Nicky. ‘OK, we need a full blood count, U and Es, BMG, blood culture and viral titres. And Nicky, let’s give the child some humidified oxygen.’
Believe in yourself.
Well, she did believe in herself. Sort of. It was just that she was afraid of making a mistake and Jack Rothwell never seemed to be afraid of anything. He just did it. And it turned out right every time.
Bryony busied herself taking the necessary samples. ‘Should I do arterial blood gases?’
‘They can do them on the ward,’ Jack said immediately. ‘Nicky, can you call Paeds and get them up here? This little one is going to need admitting. She’s a poorly baby.’
Bryony looked at him. ‘You think it’s bronchiolitis?’
‘Without a doubt.’ He smothered a yawn and looked at her apologetically. ‘Sorry. I was up half the night.’
It was Bryony’s turn to look mocking. ‘Was she nice?’
‘She was gorgeous.’ He grinned, that wonderful slightly lopsided grin that affected her knees so acutely. ‘She was also eighty-four and had a fractured hip.’
‘You love older women.’
‘True.’ He checked the monitor again. ‘But generally I like them mobile. OK, Blondie. What’s the likely causative organism here? Exercise your brain cell and impress me twice in one evening.’
‘RSV,’ Bryony said immediately. ‘Respiratory syncytial virus causes 75 per cent of cases of bronchiolitis.’
He inclined his head, his expression mocking. ‘All right, you’ve impressed me. And you’ve obviously been studying your textbook again. Now we’ll do some maths. What’s two plus two?’ His eyes were dancing. ‘No need to answer immediately and you can use your fingers if you need to. Take your time—I know it’s tricky.’
‘No idea,’ Bryony returned blithely, batting her eyelashes in a parody of a dumb blonde and handing the bottles to Nicky for labelling. ‘Jack, should we pass a nasogastric tube?’
‘No. Not yet.’ He shook his head, his gaze flickering over the baby. ‘When you’ve finished taking the samples we’ll set up an IV and get her to the ward. I’ve got a bad feeling about this little one. She’s going to end up being ventilated.’
‘I hope not,’ Bryony murmured, but she knew that Jack was always right in his predictions. If he thought the baby was going to need ventilating, then it was almost certain that she would.
He looked at her quizzically. ‘Is the mother around?’
As he asked the question the doors to Resus opened and the paramedics came back in, escorting a tall woman wrapped in a wool coat. Her face was pale and her hair was uncombed.
‘Ella?’ She hurried over to the trolley, her face lined with anxiety, and then she looked at Jack.
Bryony didn’t mind that. She was used to it. Women always looked at Jack.
Even before they knew he was the consultant, they looked at him.
And it wasn’t just because he was staggeringly, movie-star handsome. It was because he was charming and had an air of casual self-assurance that attracted women like magnets. You just knew that Jack would know what to do in any situation.
‘I’m Dr Rothwell.’ He extended a hand and gave her that reassuring smile that always seemed to calm the most frantic relative. ‘I’ve been caring for Ella, along with Dr Hunter here.’
The woman didn’t even glance at Bryony. Her gaze stayed firmly fixed on Jack. ‘She’s been ill for days but I thought it was just a cold and then suddenly today she seemed to go downhill.’ She lifted a shaking hand to her throat. ‘She wouldn’t take her bottle and she was so hot and then tonight she stopped breathing properly and I was terrified.’
Jack nodded, his blue eyes warm and understanding. ‘It’s always frightening when a baby of this size is ill because their airways are so small,’ he explained calmly. ‘Ella has picked up a nasty virus and it is affecting her breathing.’
The woman blanched and stared at the tiny figure on the trolley. ‘But she’s going to be OK?’
‘We need to admit her to hospital,’ Jack said, glancing up as the paediatrician walked into the room. ‘This is Dr Armstrong, the paediatric registrar. He’s going to take a look at her now and then we’ll take her along to the ward.’
‘Will I be able to stay with her?’
‘Absolutely.’ Jack nodded, his gaze reassuring. ‘You can have a bed next to her cot.’
Deciding that Jack was never going to be able to extricate himself from the mother, Bryony briefed Dr Armstrong on the baby’s condition.
She liked David Armstrong. He was warm and kind and he’d asked her out on several occasions.
And she’d refused of course. Because she always refused.
She never went on dates.
Bryony bit her lip, remembering Lizzie’s letter to Santa. She wanted a daddy for Christmas. A pretty tall order for a woman who didn’t date men, she thought dryly, picking up the baby’s charts and handing them to David.
Dragging her mind back, she finished handing over and watched while David examined the baby himself.
A thoroughly nice man, she decided wistfully. So why couldn’t she just accept his invitation to take their friendship a step further?
And then Jack strolled back to the trolley, tall, broad-shouldered, confident and so shockingly handsome that it made her gasp, and she remembered the reason why she didn’t date men.
She didn’t date men because she’d been in love with Jack since she’d been five years old. And apart from her one disastrous attempt to forget about him, which had resulted in Lizzie, she hadn’t even noticed another man for her entire adult life.
Which just went to show how stupid she was, she reflected crossly, infuriated by her own stupidity.
Jack might be a brilliant doctor but he was also the most totally unsuitable man any woman could fall for. Women had affairs with Jack. They didn’t fall in love with him. Not if they had any sense, because Jack had no intention of ever falling in love or settling down.
But, of course, she didn’t have any sense.
It was fortunate that she’d got used to hiding the way she felt about him. He didn’t have a clue that he’d featured in every daydream she’d had since she’d been a child. When other little girls had dreamed about faceless princes in fairy-tales, she’d dreamed about Jack. When her teenage friends had developed crushes on the boys at school, she’d still dreamed about Jack. And when she’d finally matured into a woman, she’d carried on dreaming about Jack.
Finally the baby was stable enough to be transferred to the ward and Nicky pushed the trolley, accompanied by the paediatric SHO, who had arrived to help, and the baby’s mother.
Bryony started to tidy up Resus, ready for the next arrival, her mind elsewhere.
‘Are you all right?’ David Armstrong gave her a curious look. ‘You’re miles away.’
‘Sorry.’ She smiled. ‘Just thinking.’
‘Hard work, that, for a blonde,’ Jack said mildly, and Bryony gave him a sunny smile, relaxed now that the baby was no longer her responsibility.
‘Why are men like bank accounts?’ she asked sweetly, ditching some papers in the bin. ‘Because without a lot of money they don’t generate much interest.’
David looked startled but Jack threw back his head and laughed.
‘Then it’s fortunate for me that I have a lot of money,’ he said strolling across the room to her and looping her stethoscope back round her neck.
For a moment he stood there, looking down at her, his eyes laughing into hers as he kept hold of the ends of the stethoscope. Bryony looked back at him, hypnotised by the dark shadow visible on his hard jaw and the tiny muscle that worked in his cheek. He was so close she could almost touch him, but she’d never been allowed to do that.
Not properly.
He was her best friend.
They talked, they laughed and they spent huge amounts of time together. But they never crossed that line of friendship.
Jack’s pager sounded and he let go of the stethoscope and reached into his pocket. ‘Duty calls. If you’re sure you can cope without me, I’ll be off.’
‘I’ll struggle on,’ Bryony said sarcastically, and he gave her that lazy wink that always reduced her legs to jelly.
‘You do that. I’ll see you later, then. Are you joining the team at the Drunken Fox tonight?’
‘Yes. Mum’s babysitting.’
The whole of the local mountain rescue team were meeting for a drink to celebrate her brother’s birthday.
‘Good.’ He gave a nod. ‘See you there, then.’
And with that he strolled out of the room with his usual easy confidence, letting the door swing closed behind him.
David stared after him. ‘Don’t you mind the blonde jokes and the fact that he calls you Blondie?’
Bryony shot him an amused look. ‘He’s called me that for twenty-two years.’ She fiddled with the stethoscope that Jack had looped round her neck. ‘He’s just teasing.’
‘You’ve known him for twenty-two years?’
‘Amazing that I’m still sane, isn’t it?’ Bryony said lightly. ‘Jack was at school with my two brothers but he spent more time in our house than his own.’ Mainly because his parents had been going through a particularly acrimonious divorce.
‘He’s practically family. He and my brothers were at medical school together.’
Nicky entered the room in time to hear that last remark. ‘I bet the three of them were lethal.’
‘They certainly were.’
David looked at her in surprise. ‘Of course—why didn’t I realise before? Tom Hunter, the consultant obstetrician—he’s your brother?’
Bryony smiled. ‘That’s right. And my other brother, Oliver, is a GP. When I’ve finished my rotation I’m going to join him in his practice. He’s the reason for the trip to the pub—it’s his birthday today.’
Not that they needed an excuse for a trip to the pub. Most of the mountain rescue team members lived in the pub when they weren’t working, training or on a callout.
David looked at her. ‘I can’t believe that I didn’t click sooner that Tom Hunter is your brother.’
Bryony shrugged. ‘Well, we don’t know each other that well.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ David said in an undertone. ‘I keep asking you out.’
And she kept refusing.
Conscious that Nicky was within earshot, Bryony handed David the last of the charts. ‘Here you go. Everything you need on baby Ella. I hope she does OK.’
‘Thanks.’ He hesitated and then gave her a smile as he walked out of Resus.
‘That man fancies you,’ Nicky said dryly, and Bryony sighed.
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Don’t tell me, you’re in love with Jack, the same as every other woman on the planet.’
Bryony looked at her, carefully keeping her expression casual. She’d never admitted to anyone how she felt about Jack, and she wasn’t going to start now. ‘Jack’s my best friend. I know him far too well to ever fall in love with him.’
‘Then you’re more sensible than the rest of the female population,’ Nicky said happily. ‘Every woman I know is in love with Jack Rothwell. He’s rich, single and sexy as sin. And most of us could scratch your eyes out for being so close to him. According to rumour, he spends half his life hanging around your kitchen.’
Bryony smiled. When she’d lived at home Jack had always been there, and when she’d moved into her own cottage he’d taken to dropping round so often that he was almost part of the furniture. ‘Don’t get the wrong idea. Usually he’s telling me about his latest girlfriend. He’s my brothers’ closest friend, he’s my daughter’s godfather and we’ve been in the mountain rescue team together for years. I can assure you there’s nothing romantic about our relationship.’
Unfortunately.
Nicky sighed. ‘Well, it sounds pretty good to me. I’d love to have him in my kitchen, if only for his decorative qualities. The guy is sublime.’
‘Nicky, you’re married.’
Nicky grinned. ‘I know. But my hormones are still alive and kicking.’
Bryony busied herself restocking one of the equipment trays. Strictly speaking it wasn’t her job but she didn’t want to look at Nicky in case she gave herself away.
Her relationship with Jack was good.
They had a fantastic friendship.
But even the most fantastic friendship didn’t soothe the ache in her heart.
She was about to say something else to Nicky when the doors to Resus opened again and one of the paramedics stuck his head round.
‘Has the baby been transferred to the ward? Only I’ve got her father here.’
‘I’ll speak to him,’ Bryony said immediately, glad to be given an excuse to get away from the subject of Jack. She followed the paramedic out of the room.
A tall man in a suit was hovering anxiously in the corridor, his face white with strain.
‘I’m Dr Hunter,’ Bryony said, holding out her hand. ‘I’ve been looking after Ella.’
‘Oh, God …’ he breathed out slowly, obviously trying to calm himself down. ‘I came as soon as Pam called me but I was at a meeting in Penrith and the traffic was awful.’
Bryony gave an understanding smile and slowly outlined Ella’s condition, careful to be realistic without painting too grim a picture.
‘So she’s on the ward?’ He ran a hand over the back of his neck and gave a shuddering sigh. ‘Sorry. I know I’m panicking like mad but she’s my baby and—’
‘It’s OK,’ Bryony said gently, putting a hand on his arm. ‘You’re her father and you’re entitled to be worried.’
His shoulders sagged and he looked exhausted. ‘You don’t know what worry is until you have kids, do you?’
Bryony thought of Lizzie and shook her head. ‘No,’ she agreed softly, ‘you certainly don’t.’
‘Do you have children yourself, Doctor?’
‘I have a little girl.’
They shared a smile of mutual understanding. ‘And the bond between a little girl and her daddy is so special, isn’t it?’
Bryony tensed and then she smiled. ‘It certainly is,’ she croaked, feeling as though she’d been showered with cold water. ‘Very special.’
She directed the man to the children’s ward and stared after him, feeling sick inside.
She loved Lizzie so fiercely that she rarely thought about the fact that her little girl didn’t have a father. She had plenty of father figures—her two brothers and Jack, and she’d always consoled herself that they were enough. But Lizzie obviously didn’t think so or why would she have asked for a father for Christmas?
Lizzie wanted the real thing. She wanted a father to tuck her up at night. A father who would read to her and play with her. A father who would panic and leave a meeting because she was sick.
Bryony gave a groan and covered her face with her hands. How was she ever going to satisfy Lizzie’s Christmas wish this year?
How was she going to produce a father when she didn’t even date men and hadn’t since Lizzie had been conceived? And not even then, really.
Bryony let her hands drop to her sides, torn with guilt at how selfish she’d been. Because of the way she felt about Jack, she’d shut men out of her life, never thinking about the long-term effect that would have on Lizzie.
It was true that she didn’t want a man in her life, but it was also true that Lizzie needed and wanted a father.
And suddenly Bryony made a decision.
She was going to stop dreaming about Jack Rothwell. She was going to stop noticing his broad shoulders. She was going to stop noticing the way his cheeks creased when he smiled. She was going to stop thinking about what he looked like with his shirt off. In fact, she was going to stop thinking about him altogether and start dating other men.
Finally she was going to get a life.
And Lizzie was going to get a daddy.
CHAPTER TWO
BRYONY paused outside the entrance to the pub, her breath clouding the freezing air. She could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and music coming from inside, and she lifted her chin and pushed open the door.
They were all there. The whole of the mountain rescue team, most of whom she’d known for years, crowding the bar and laughing together. In one corner of the bar a log fire crackled and the room was warm and welcoming.
‘It’s Blondie!’
There were good-natured catcalls from the moment they spotted her and Toby, the equipment officer, slipped off his stool and offered it to her with a flourish.
‘Hi, guys.’ She settled herself on the stool and smiled at the barman. ‘Hi, Geoff. The usual, please.’
He reached for a bottle of grapefruit juice. ‘On the hard stuff, Bryony?’
‘That’s me.’ Bryony nodded her thanks and lifted the glass in a salute. ‘Cheers, everyone. And happy birthday, Oliver.’
Her brother grinned. ‘Thanks, babe. You OK?’
‘I’m fine.’ In fact, she was better than fine. She was brilliant. And she was finally going to restart her life.
As if to test that resolve, Jack strolled over to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
‘What did the blonde say when she walked into the bar?’
‘Ouch,’ Bryony answered wearily, rolling her eyes in exasperation. ‘And, Jack, you really need some new jokes. You’re recycling them.’
He yawned. ‘Well, I’ve been telling them for twenty-two years—what do you expect?’
‘A bit of originality would be nice,’ she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink and making a point of not looking at him. She wasn’t going to notice Jack any more. There were plenty of men out there with good bodies. He wasn’t the only one. ‘Maybe I should dye my hair brown to help you out.’
‘Brown? Don’t you dare.’ Jack’s voice was husky and enticingly male. ‘If you dyed your hair brown, you’d ruin all my jokes. We love you the way you are.’
Bryony took a gulp of her drink. He didn’t love her. And he never would love her. Or, at least, not in the way she wanted him to love her.
‘Bry, are you free on Thursday or Friday?’ Oliver leaned across the bar and grabbed a handful of nuts. ‘Mum wants to cook me a birthday dinner, whole family and Jack in attendance.’
Bryony put her glass down on the bar. ‘Can’t do Thursday.’
Jack frowned. ‘You’re on an early shift. Why can’t you do it?’
Bryony hesitated. ‘Because I have a date,’ she said finally, and Oliver lifted his eyebrows.
‘A date? You have a date?’
Jack’s smile vanished like the sun behind a cloud. ‘What do you mean, you have a date?’ His voice was surprisingly frosty. ‘Since when did you go on dates?’
Bryony took a deep breath and decided she may as well tell all. ‘Since I saw Lizzie’s Christmas list.’
At the mention of Lizzie, Jack’s expression regained some of its warmth. ‘She’s made her list already?’
‘She has indeed.’
‘Don’t tell me.’ His voice was indulgent. ‘She wants something pink. A new pair of pink wings for her fairy costume?’
‘Nope.’
Oliver looked at her searchingly. ‘Well? We’re all dying to hear what she asked for. And what’s it got to do with you going on a date?’
Bryony sat still for a moment, studying her empty glass. ‘I’m going on a date,’ she said slowly, ‘because Lizzie wants a daddy.’ She looked up and gave them a bland smile. ‘Lizzie has asked for a daddy for Christmas.’
There was a long silence around the bar and the men exchanged looks.
It was Jack who eventually spoke first. ‘Does she realise that they’re not all they’re cracked up to be?’
There was bitterness in his tone and Bryony frowned slightly. She knew that his parents had divorced when he’d been eight and she also knew that it had been a hideously painful experience for Jack.
But it was unlike him to ever mention it.
Like most men, Jack Rothwell didn’t talk about his feelings.
‘A daddy?’ Oliver cleared his throat and exchanged looks with Tom. ‘Does she have anyone in particular in mind?’
Bryony shook her head. ‘No. She’s leaving the choice up to Santa, but Mum gave me the letter and she’s listed the qualities she’s looking for.’
‘She has?’ Oliver gave an amazed laugh and glanced round at the others. ‘And what are they?’
Bryony delved into her pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper. She cleared her throat and started to read. ‘I want a daddy who is strong so that he can swing me in the garden. I want a daddy who is funny and makes jokes. I want a daddy who lets me watch television before school and who won’t make me eat sprouts because I hate them and I want a daddy who will meet me at the school gate and give me a hug like the other daddies sometimes do.’ Bryony broke off at that point and swallowed hard, aware of the stunned silence around her. ‘But most of all I want a daddy who will hug my mummy and stay with us for ever.’
No one spoke and Bryony gave a small shrug. ‘That’s it.’
She folded the paper carefully and put it back in her pocket, and Jack frowned.
‘I never knew she wanted someone to pick her up from school,’ he said gruffly, glancing between Oliver and Tom. ‘We could do something about that, guys.’
‘Sure.’ Tom nodded agreement immediately and Bryony lifted a hand.
‘Thank you, but no. That isn’t what she wants. In fact, that would probably make it worse because the person who is picking her up isn’t her daddy.’
Oliver frowned and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ‘So where did it come from, this daddy business?’
‘I don’t know.’ Bryony shrugged. ‘I suppose she’s just getting to that age where children notice differences between themselves and others. Most of the kids in her class are in traditional families.’
‘You’ve been reading her too many fairy stories,’ Jack said darkly, and she shrugged.
‘She’s a little girl, Jack. Little girls dream of weddings.’
Oliver grinned at Tom. ‘Some big girls dream of weddings, too. I find it terrifying.’
‘Stop it.’ Bryony frowned in mock disapproval. ‘How my daughter has ever grown up to be remotely normal with you three around her is a mystery to me. She’s always asking me why none of you are married.’
‘Did you tell her that we’re too busy having fun?’ Tom drawled, and Bryony rolled her eyes.
‘Actually, I tell her that none of you have met the right woman yet, but that it’s bound to happen soon.’
‘Is it?’ Oliver gave a shudder, his expression comical. ‘I hope not.’
‘You’re awful. All three of you.’
Tom lifted an eyebrow in her direction. ‘Well, you’re not exactly an advert for relationships yourself, little sister. You haven’t been on a date since Lizzie was born.’
‘I know that. But that’s all going to change.’ Bryony lifted her chin. ‘I’ve decided that Lizzie needs a daddy.’
‘So what are you saying?’ Jack was staring at her, all traces of humour gone from his handsome face. ‘You’re going to go out there and marry the first guy you meet just so that she can have a daddy?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.’ Bryony lifted her chin and looked around her, her voice quiet but firm. ‘I’m just saying that I’m going to start dating again.’
Oliver glanced at Tom and shrugged. ‘Well, good for you.’
‘Yeah.’ Tom nodded and smiled at his sister. ‘I think it’s great. You’ve locked yourself up in a cupboard long enough. Get yourself out there, I say. Paint the town red. Or pink, if you’re using Lizzie’s colour scheme.’
Some of the other men in the team clapped her on the back and one or two made jokes about joining the queue to take her out.
Only Jack was silent, studying her with a brooding expression on his handsome face, his usual teasing smile notably absent. ‘You really think you can find her a daddy?’
‘I don’t know.’ Bryony gave a little shrug. ‘Maybe not. But if I don’t at least go on dates, it definitely won’t happen.’
When he finally spoke his tone was chilly. ‘So who’s your date with on Thursday?’
Bryony looked at him in confusion, thinking that she’d never heard Jack use that tone before. He sounded … angry. But why would he be angry? The others actually seemed pleased for her. But not Jack.
‘I’m not sure it’s any of your business,’ she teased him gently, trying to nudge their relationship back onto its usual platform, but on this occasion there was no answering smile.
‘I’m Lizzie’s godfather,’ he reminded her, his blue eyes glittering in the firelight and a muscle working in his jaw. ‘Who you choose as a daddy is very much my business.’
‘You want to interview the guys I date, Jack?’ She was still smiling, trying to keep it light, but he was glaring at her.
‘Maybe.’
Bryony gave a disbelieving laugh, her own smile fading rapidly. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘You know absolutely nothing about the opposite sex, Blondie,’ he said coldly. ‘You’ve always refused to tell us who Lizzie’s father was but he isn’t around now which says quite a lot about your choice of men.’
Bryony gasped in shock. Lizzie’s father wasn’t a topic she discussed with anyone and Jack had never spoken to her like that before. He’d always been totally supportive of her status as a single mother.
‘I don’t know why you’re looking so disapproving,’ she said softly, aware that all the others had long since returned to their conversations and were no longer listening. Suddenly it was just the two of them and the tension in the atmosphere was increasing by the minute. ‘You date all the time.’
His mouth tightened. ‘I don’t have a seven-year-old daughter.’
‘But it’s because of her that I’m doing this!’
Jack picked up his glass from the bar, a muscle flickering in his darkened jaw. ‘That’s ridiculous. You think you can just get out there and produce a happy family like magic?’
She sighed, knowing what was behind his words. ‘No, I don’t think that, Jack. But I think that it’s time to see if I could maybe meet someone who seemed right for Lizzie and me.’
‘Your life runs very smoothly,’ he pointed out. ‘Why complicate things?’
‘Because Lizzie needs something more …’ She hesitated. ‘And I need something more, too, Jack. I’ve been on my own long enough.’
His mouth tightened. ‘So basically you’ve suddenly decided to get out there and have fun.’
‘And so what if I have?’ Bryony looked at him, confused and exasperated. ‘I just don’t understand your attitude! You and my brothers have practically worked your way through most of the females in Cumbria.’
Streaks of colour touched his incredible cheekbones. ‘That’s different.’
Suddenly Bryony decided she’d had enough. ‘Because you’re a man and I’m a woman?’
‘No.’ His fingers tightened on his glass. ‘Because I don’t have any responsibilities.’
‘No. You’ve made sure of that. And there’s no need to remind me of my responsibilities to Lizzie. That’s what started this, remember?’ She glared at him, suddenly angry with him for being so judgmental. ‘Lizzie wants a daddy and it’s my job to find her one. And I’m more than happy to try and find someone I can live with because frankly I’m sick and tired of being on my own, too.’
How could she have been so stupid as to put herself on ice for so long? She should have realised just how deep-rooted his fear of commitment was. Should have realised that Jack Rothwell would never settle down with anyone, let alone her.
It was definitely time to move on.
‘I’m going home,’ she said coldly, slipping off the barstool and avoiding his gaze. ‘I’ll see you at work tomorrow.’
She heard his sharp intake of breath and knew that he was going to try and stop her, but she virtually ran to the door, giving him no opportunity to intercept her.
She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to hear all the reasons why she shouldn’t have a boyfriend when he dated a non-stop string of beautiful women.
She’d call Oliver later and apologise for ducking out without saying goodbye, but she knew he wouldn’t mind. They were a close family and she adored her brothers. At least they’d been encouraging.
Which was more than could be said for Jack.
Why had he acted like that? All right, he was absolutely against marriage, but it wasn’t his marriage they were talking about. It was hers, and Jack was usually warm and supportive of everything she did. They never argued. They were best friends.
She unlocked her car quickly, feeling tears prick her eyes.
Well, if dating other men meant losing Jack as a friend, then so be it. She’d wasted enough time on him. He didn’t even notice her, for goodness’ sake!
And if she’d needed confirmation that it was time to move on, she had it now.
Jack banged his empty glass down on the bar and cursed under his breath.
‘Nice one, Jack,’ Oliver said mildly, clapping him on the shoulder and glancing towards the door. ‘I thought the three of us agreed that we weren’t going to bring up the thorny subject of Lizzie’s father.’
Jack groaned and ran a hand over his face. ‘I know, I know.’ He let out a long breath. ‘It’s just that she knows nothing about men—’
‘She’s twenty-seven.’
‘So?’ Jack glared at Oliver. ‘And we know that she hasn’t been out with a man since Lizzie was conceived. That guy broke her heart! I don’t want her making the same mistake again. She’s obviously never got over him. What if she picks someone on the rebound?’
Tom joined them. ‘I’m not sure you can rebound after seven years,’ he said mildly, and Jack’s mouth tightened.
‘So why does Lizzie never date, then?’
Tom looked at him steadily. ‘I don’t know …’
‘Yes you do.’ Jack’s eyes narrowed as he studied his friend. ‘You think you know. I can tell.’
Tom shook his head and drained his glass. ‘No. I don’t know.’ He studied his empty glass. ‘But I can guess.’
Jack frowned. ‘So what’s your guess?’
Tom gave a funny smile and looked at Oliver. ‘My guess is that she has a particular guy on her mind,’ he drawled casually, ‘and until she gets over him, she can’t move on.’
‘Precisely what I said,’ Jack said smugly. ‘She needs to get over Lizzie’s father.’
And with that he grabbed his jacket and strode out of the pub after her.
Oliver looked at Tom. ‘I always thought he was a bright guy. How did he ever come top in all those exams?’
Tom gave a faint smile. ‘He’ll get there in the end.’
‘Unless Bry meets someone else.’
‘Bryony has been in love with Jack for twenty-two years,’ Tom said calmly, glancing at the barman and waggling his glass. ‘She’s never going to fall in love with anyone else.’
‘So what happens now?’
Tom reached for his wallet. ‘I think we’re in for a very interesting few weeks. Happy birthday, bro. This one’s on me.’
Damn.
Jack strode out to the car park, cursing himself for being so tactless. He couldn’t believe he’d argued with Bryony. He never argued with Bryony. Or, at least, not seriously. Bryony was the nearest he had to family and their relationship was all banter and teasing and a great deal of confiding. Well, on his part at least. He told her everything about his relationships and she was always giving him little suggestions. And that was one of the things he loved about their friendship. Unlike the women he dated, Bryony never tried to change him or lecture him. She just accepted him as he was. He was more comfortable in her kitchen than any other place in the world. And now he’d upset her.
What the hell had come over him?
He looked round the car park, part of him hoping that she was still there, but of course she was long gone. He just hoped she wasn’t driving too quickly. The air was freezing and the roads would be icy.
He gritted his teeth and swore under his breath. She’d been really upset by his comments and there was a very strong chance that he’d made her cry. Despite the fact that she rarely let him see it, he knew she was soft-hearted. He’d known her since she was five, for goodness’ sake, and he knew her better than anyone.
Realising that he had a big apology to make, he ran a hand over his face and strolled to his car, pressing the remote control on his keyring.
He could drive over to her cottage now, of course, but she’d still be mad with him and anyway her mother would be there so they wouldn’t be able to talk properly.
No. The apology was best left until they could be alone.
If he’d been dating her he would have sent her flowers, but he’d never sent Bryony flowers in his life, and if he did she’d think he’d gone mad.
He slid into his sports car and dropped his head back against the seat.
No doubt, now that word was out that she was going to start dating, flowers would be arriving for her thick and fast.
He growled low in his throat, tension rising in him as he contemplated the impact that her announcement had made.
Why had she chosen to tell the whole pub? Didn’t she know that all the guys lusted after her? That with her long silken blonde hair and her fabulous curvy body, she couldn’t walk across a room without stopping conversations? And he felt every bit as protective towards her as he knew her brothers did.
And now some sleazy guy would come along and take advantage of her, and she was so trusting and inexperienced with men she wouldn’t even notice until it was too late.
Jack reversed the car out of its space, crunching the gears viciously. Well, not while he was available to prevent it happening.
She’d become pregnant in her second year at medical school and neither he nor her brothers had been around to sort the guy out. Damn it, she hadn’t even told them who he was. Just mumbled something about the whole thing being a mistake and refused to even discuss it even though Tom and Oliver had pumped her for hours.
Well, there wasn’t going to be another mistake, Jack thought grimly, his strong hands tightening on the wheel. Because now there was Lizzie’s happiness to think of, too. No one was going to hurt either one of his girls.
From now on, if any guy so much as looked at Bryony the wrong way, if there was even a scent of someone messing her around, he’d step in and floor them.
Satisfied that he was back in control of the situation, he stopped trying to pulverise his precious car and slowed his pace.
All he needed to do now was plan. He needed to know exactly whom she was dating so that he could issue a warning.
Bryony let herself into the house and found her mother in the kitchen. ‘Is she asleep?’
‘Fast asleep.’ Her mother dried her hands on a towel. ‘You’re back early, darling. Is something wrong?’
‘No.’ Bryony unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and tossed it onto the chair. Her coat followed.
‘Bryony, I’m your mother. I can tell when something is wrong.’
Bryony glared at her, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. ‘Jack Rothwell, that’s what’s wrong!’
‘Ah.’ Her mother gave a smile and turned to put the kettle on. ‘Tea?’
‘I suppose so.’ Bryony slumped into the nearest chair and sighed. ‘He is the most infuriating man.’
‘Is he?’
‘You know he is.’
Her mother reached for the tea bags. ‘I know that you two have been very close for almost the whole of your lives,’ she said mildly. ‘I’m sure that whatever it is you’ve quarrelled about will go away.’
‘The man dates every woman on the planet,’ Bryony said, still outraged by his attitude, ‘but when I announce that I’m going to start going out with men, he’s suddenly disapproving. And he had the nerve to lecture me on my responsibilities to Lizzie!’
‘Did he?’ Her mother looked thoughtful. ‘That’s very interesting.’
‘Interesting?’ Bryony shot her mother an incredulous look. ‘Irritating, you mean. And hypocritical. How many girlfriends has Jack Rothwell had since I first met him?’
Her mother poured the tea. ‘Quite a few, I should think.’
‘Half the planet,’ Bryony said flatly. ‘He certainly isn’t in a position to lecture me about morals.’
‘I imagine he thought he was protecting Lizzie.’
Bryony stared at her. ‘From what?’
Her mother put two mugs on the table and sat down opposite her. ‘Jack hasn’t had a very positive experience of marriage, sweetheart.’
‘You mean because of his parents?’
Her mother’s mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘Well, you know my opinion on that. They were grown-ups. He was a child. They should have sorted out their differences amicably. After his father walked out, Jack spent most of his childhood at our house and I don’t think his mother even noticed he wasn’t at home. She was too busy enjoying herself to remember that she had a child.’
Bryony bit her lip, suddenly realising why Jack might have been so sensitive about her dating. ‘But I wouldn’t do that. That isn’t what this is about.’
‘I know. But you understand Jack better than anyone,’ her mother said calmly. ‘He wasn’t thinking about you, darling. He was thinking about his own experiences.’
Bryony bit her lip. ‘Do you think I should start dating, Mum?’
‘Certainly I think you should date,’ her mother replied calmly. ‘I’ve always thought you should date, but you’ve always been too crazy about Jack to notice anyone else.’
Bryony stared at her, opened her mouth to deny it and then caught the look in her mother’s eye and closed it again. ‘You know that?’
‘I’m your mother. Of course I know that.’
‘He doesn’t notice me.’
‘You’re a huge part of Jack’s life,’ her mother said mildly. ‘He virtually lives here. But that’s going to have to change if you really are going to date other men.’
Bryony curled her hands round her mug. ‘But I don’t want it to change my friendship with Jack.’
‘One day you’ll get married again,’ her mother said quietly, ‘and I can’t see any man wanting to see Jack lounging in your kitchen every time he comes home from work. Of course your friendship is going to change.’
Bryony stared into her mug, a hollow feeling inside her. She didn’t want things to change. Despite their row, she couldn’t imagine not having Jack in her life.
But she couldn’t carry on the way she was now, for Lizzie’s sake.
‘Then I suppose I’ll just have to get used to that,’ she said, raising her mug in the air. ‘Cheers. To my future.’
Her mother lifted her mug in response. ‘May it turn out the way you want it to,’ she said cryptically, and Bryony let out a long breath.
She wasn’t really sure what she wanted.
But she knew Lizzie needed a daddy.
The next morning she was woken by her pager.
‘Is that a callout?’ Lizzie was by her bed in a flash, her eyes huge. ‘Is someone in trouble on the mountain?’
Bryony picked up her pager and was reading the message when the phone rang. Lizzie grabbed it immediately.
‘Hunter household, Elizabeth Hunter speaking,’ she said formally, the angle of her chin suggesting that she was very proud of herself. She listened for a moment and then a smile spread across her face. ‘Hello, Jack! Yes, Mummy’s right here … I’ll tell her. Will I see you later?’
Bryony pulled on her clothes and sprinted to the bathroom to clean her teeth. By the time she’d finished, Lizzie was off the phone.
‘There’s a party of Duke of Edinburgh Award boys overdue,’ she said importantly. ‘They’re sending out the whole team but Sean wants you and Jack to be an advance party. Jack is picking you up in five minutes.’
‘Five minutes.’ Bryony hurried through to the kitchen, grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and dropped some bread in the toaster. ‘Get your school things, sweetheart. Jack and I will drop you at Grandma’s on the way past and she can take you to school.’
Lizzie sprinted off and Bryony sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she had her mother close by. How did single parents manage without mothers?
By the time Jack hammered on the door, Lizzie was dressed and was standing by the door with her schoolbag, munching toast.
She stood on tiptoe and opened the door.
‘Hi, there.’ Jack stooped and swung her into his arms, squeezing her tightly. ‘Are we dropping you with Grandma?’
‘We certainly are.’ Bryony walked into the hall and picked up her rucksack and the other bits and pieces that she’d piled by the door, avoiding Jack’s gaze. She was grateful that Lizzie was there. At least it prevented her from having to continue the conversation from the night before.
She was still hurt and angry by Jack’s response to her announcement that she was going to start dating.
They piled into the mountain rescue vehicle and Jack drove down the lane that led to Bryony’s cottage and turned onto the main road.
‘So what’s the story?’ Bryony twisted her blonde hair into a ponytail and pushed it under a woolly hat. Then she rummaged in her bag for her gloves.
Jack kept his eyes on the road. ‘Two boys have been reported overdue. They should have been back down last night but they didn’t appear.’
Bryony frowned. ‘So why did no one call the team last night?’
‘They were camping and didn’t leave their plans with anyone so no one noticed until their friends stumbled into camp this morning and raised the alarm. The weather was foul last night, which is doubtless why Sean is worried.’
Lizzie stared at him, her eyes huge. ‘Have they called the helicopter?’
‘Yes, sweetheart.’ Jack glanced at her with a smile. ‘But the weather is pretty awful so Sean, the MRT leader, wants your mum and me to get going up that mountain in case we can help.’
‘Why do you and Mummy always go together?’
Jack turned his attention back to the road and pulled the vehicle up outside Bryony’s mother’s house. ‘Because your mum and I have always worked together in the mountain rescue team,’ he said lightly. ‘When your mum trained, I was her buddy. I looked after her.’
‘And you still look after her,’ Lizzie said happily, jumping down from the vehicle and grabbing her school-bag.
‘I don’t need looking after,’ Bryony said crossly, glaring at Jack and calling after Lizzie, ‘Sweetheart, ask Grandma to give you some more breakfast. I’ll see you later.’
They waited until Bryony’s mother opened the door and then Jack gave a wave and hit the accelerator.
Suddenly Bryony was very aware that it was just the two of them and she stared out of the window, for the first time in her life not knowing what to say.
‘We think we know where they are,’ Jack told her, flicking the indicator and turning down a narrow road. ‘It’s just a question of what state they’ll be in when we get there.’
Which was why Sean had sent them as the advance party, Bryony thought. He wanted doctors. Which meant that he was anticipating trouble.
She picked up the map. ‘What’s the grid reference?’
He told her and she traced it with her finger. ‘They’re in the ghyll?’
‘Sounds like it.’
Bryony looked at him in concern. ‘But the water level is terribly high after all that rain we’ve had …’
‘That’s right.’ Jack’s voice was even and he brought the vehicle to a halt. ‘Which is why we need to get a move on. Personally I doubt they’ll be able to fly a helicopter in this. Sean has called the whole team out, but we’re going on ahead.’
He sprang out of the vehicle and reached for the equipment that they’d need. They worked quickly and quietly, each knowing what the other was doing.
‘You ready?’ Jack lifted an eyebrow in her direction and she nodded.
‘Let’s go.’
Jack set off at a fast pace and Bryony followed, knowing that speed was important. After a night out in the open in the wet and temperatures below freezing, the boys would be in serious trouble.
They had to reach them fast.
The path grew steeper, the mist came down and Jack shook his head. ‘It’s November, it’s freezing cold and the visibility is zero.’ He hitched his rucksack more comfortably on his broad shoulders and squinted into the mist. ‘Who the hell chooses to climb mountains at this time of year?’
‘You do it all the time,’ Bryony pointed out, checking her compass again. ‘One of these days we’re going to be out here rescuing you.’
‘Never.’ He winked and gave her a sexy grin. ‘I am invincible.’
Bryony rolled her eyes. ‘And arrogant.’ She stopped dead and he looked at her questioningly.
‘Why have you stopped?’
‘Because your ego is blocking my path.’
Jack laughed and then the laughter faded. ‘Listen, Blondie, about last night—’
‘Not now,’ Bryony said hastily. She really didn’t want to tackle the subject again so soon, especially not halfway up a mountain.
‘I just wanted to apologise,’ he said softly. ‘I was out of line. You’re a brilliant mother and I know you’ll do what’s right for Lizzie.’
Stunned by his apology, Bryony lost her ability to speak. She’d never heard Jack apologise for anything before.
‘Let’s forget it,’ she mumbled, and Jack nodded, his blue eyes studying her closely.
‘All right. We’ll talk about it later.’ He glanced up the path and frowned. ‘There is no way that helicopter is going to fly in this.’
‘So we evacuate them down the mountain.’
He nodded and then turned to her, his eyes twinkling wickedly. ‘Why did the blonde stare at the can of frozen orange juice?’ He leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair back under her hat. ‘Because it said “concentrate”.’
Bryony tipped her head on one side and stared back at him. ‘Why are men like government bonds?’ He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes dancing, and she smiled sweetly. ‘Because they take for ever to mature. Now, can we get on with this rescue?’
They stuck to the path and the mist grew thicker. Jack’s radio crackled to life and he paused and had a quick conversation with Sean back at base.
‘They’re sending out the whole team,’ he told her when he came off the radio, ‘but I reckon we must be nearly at the place where they were last seen.’
Bryony stood still, listening, but all she could hear was the rush of water. The freezing air snaked through her clothing and she shivered.
‘If they didn’t have any protection last night, they won’t have stood a chance,’ she muttered, and Jack nodded, his handsome face serious.
‘Better find them, fast.’
He started up the track again and then stopped, squinting down into the ghyll. ‘Do you see something?’
‘What?’ Bryony stepped towards the edge but Jack reached out a strong arm and clamped her against him.
‘If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you didn’t go over the edge, too,’ he said dryly, keeping his arm round her as he peered through the mist into the ghyll again.
Bryony held her breath, painfully conscious of his hard body pressed against hers.
‘I don’t see anything.’ She wondered when he was going to let her go and was about to ask when she spotted a flash of red below them. ‘OK, I see something.’
‘Me, too.’ Jack released her. ‘There’s a path here but it’s narrow and slippery. Think you can manage, Blondie? You have to put one leg in front of the other and not fall over.’
‘It’ll be a struggle, but I’ll do my best,’ Bryony assured him earnestly, relieved that their relationship seemed to have restored itself to its usual level. ‘What about you? Think you can find your way without asking for directions?’
They kept up the banter as they picked their way down the path, and finally they reached the bottom and immediately saw the boys huddled together by a boulder.
Jack closed the distance in seconds and dropped to his haunches, his expression concerned. ‘Hi, there—nice day for a stroll in the mountains.’
‘We thought no one was ever coming,’ the boy whispered, his teeth chattering as he spoke. ‘Martyn keeps falling asleep and leaving me on my own.’
‘Right. Put a bivouac tent over them.’ Jerking his head to indicate that Bryony should deal with the conscious child, Jack shifted his position so that he could examine the other boy.
He was lying still, moaning quietly, his cheeks pale and his lips blue.
Jack spoke to him quietly and checked his pulse while Bryony checked the other boy for injuries. Once she was satisfied that he was just cold and shaken, she erected the tent and helped him to scramble inside a casualty bag.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Sam.’
‘Well, Sam, that will keep you warm until we can get you off this mountain,’ she assured him, and he gave a little sob.
‘Martyn fell. His leg is awful. I saw bone.’
Bryony slipped an arm round him and gave him a hug. ‘Don’t you worry about that now,’ she said softly. ‘We’ll sort him out and get you both home. I’m going to pour you a hot drink and that will warm you up.’
She grabbed the flask that she’d packed and poured thick creamy chocolate into a mug.
‘Here—drink this. I’ll be back in a sec.’ Aware that Jack was going to need her help, she slid out of the tent and moved over to him.
‘Sam says that his friend fell.’
Jack nodded, still checking the child over. ‘He’s got a compound fracture of his tib and fib and he’s bleeding a lot. We need to get a line in, Blondie, and then splint that leg.’
Bryony reached for the rucksack and found what they needed, aware that Jack was on the radio again, updating Sean on their position and the condition of the boys.
By the time he’d finished on the radio Bryony had a line in. ‘Do you want to give him fluid?’
Jack nodded. ‘And then we need to splint that leg. It will help the pain and reduce blood loss.’ He leaned over the boy, talking quietly, explaining what they were doing, and Bryony gave a sigh. He was so good when anyone was in trouble. A rock. And he always knew what to do. Her confidence came from being with him.
She covered the wound on the leg with a sterile saline-soaked dressing while Jack carefully removed the boy’s boot.
He placed his fingers on Martyn’s foot, feeling for a pulse. ‘That’s fine—let’s splint this leg. We’re just going to give you something for the pain, Martyn, and then we’re going to put your leg in a splint. Then we’re going to warm you up and get you off this mountain.’
Bryony gave a shiver. The temperature was dropping fast and even in her top-quality gear she could feel the cold.
By the time they’d splinted the boy’s leg, Sean had arrived with the rest of the mountain rescue team.
‘Nice day for a walk,’ he drawled, glancing around him at the thick mist. ‘The views are fantastic.’
Bryony smiled. ‘Absolutely fantastic,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Enjoy your stroll, did you?’
Sean grinned in appreciation. ‘Didn’t want to rush things,’ he said, lifting an eyebrow in Jack’s direction. ‘Well?’
‘We need a helicopter but I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that.’
‘You suppose correctly.’
Jack sighed and checked the pulses on the boy’s foot again. ‘So we’d better carry them off, then. Good. I needed a workout.’
It seemed to take ages to organise both boys onto stretchers but eventually they managed to carry them out of the ghyll and started down the mountain.
By the time they reached the valley floor the mist had cleared and it was a sunny day.
‘I don’t believe this,’ Bryony muttered, tugging off her hat and shaking her hair loose. ‘What is it with our weather?’
Both boys were loaded into the mountain rescue team ambulance and then transferred to hospital under Sean’s supervision while Jack and Bryony followed behind.
‘Are you working today?’ Jack glanced across at her and she nodded.
‘Yes. I’m on a late. Why?’
He returned his attention to the road. ‘I thought you had a date.’
Bryony looked at him warily. ‘That’s tomorrow, but I don’t know if I’m going because Mum has to go and visit someone in Kendal so I don’t think she can babysit.’
‘I’ll babysit for you.’
Bryony stared at him. ‘You?’
‘Why not?’ His eyes were fixed on the road. ‘I often babysit for you. It gives me a chance to talk to my godchild. I like it.’
Bryony looked at him suspiciously. ‘But last night …’ She broke off and bit her lip, not really wanting to bring the subject up in case it rocked the peace that had resumed between them. ‘Last night you said that you didn’t think I should be dating.’
‘And I’ve already apologised for that,’ he said, flicking the indicator and turning into the road that led to the hospital. ‘And to make up for it, I’ll babysit for you. What time do you want me?’
Still feeling uneasy about the whole thing but not knowing why, Bryony gave a shrug. ‘Seven-thirty?’
‘Seven-thirty is perfect. There’s just one thing …’ He pulled up in the ambulance bay and yanked on the handbrake. ‘You haven’t told me who you’re going out with.’
There was something in his smooth tones that made her glance at him warily but his handsome face was impassive.
She paused with her hand on the door. ‘David.’
‘David Armstrong? The paediatrician?’ Jack’s expression didn’t change but she sensed something that made her uneasy.
‘Look, Jack—’
‘I’ll be there at seven-thirty. Now, let’s get on. I need to get antibiotics into Martyn and call the surgeons. That wound is going to need some attention.’
And with that he sprang out of the vehicle, leaving her staring after him.
Jack was going to babysit while she went on a date?
It seemed harmless enough, generous even, so why did she have such a strong feeling that something wasn’t quite right?
CHAPTER THREE
‘MUMMY you look pretty.’
‘Do you think so?’ Bryony surveyed her reflection in the mirror, wondering whether the dress was right for the evening that David had in mind. He’d said dinner in a smart restaurant, but she never went to smart restaurants so she wasn’t that sure what to wear.
In the end she’d settled for the little black dress that her mother had given her three Christmases ago and which she’d never worn.
She’d fastened her hair on top of her head, found a pair of pretty, dangly earrings and dabbed perfume over her body.
And she had to admit that she was looking forward to going out with a man.
So much so that when the doorbell rang she opened the door with a wide smile.
‘Hi, Jack.’ Her face glowed and she stood to one side to let him in. ‘There’s a casserole in the oven. I assumed you wouldn’t have eaten—’
‘I haven’t eaten.’ His eyes slid down her body and he frowned, his expression suddenly hostile.
Bryony felt the confidence ooze out of her. She’d thought that she looked good but, judging from the look on Jack’s face, she obviously didn’t.
‘Come through to the kitchen,’ she said quickly, suddenly wishing that she’d worn something different. Obviously the black dress didn’t suit her. ‘We’ve got time for a quick drink before David gets here. He was held up in clinic.’
Jack’s mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘So he’s going to be late, then.’
‘Well, only because a child with asthma was admitted at the last minute,’ Bryony said mildly, tugging open the fridge and reaching for a bottle of wine. ‘You know how it is.’
‘Do I?’
Instead of settling himself at her kitchen table as he usually did, he prowled round the room, his eyes constantly flickering back to her dress.
Trying to ignore his intense scrutiny, Bryony poured two glasses of wine and handed him one. ‘Here you are. Cheers.’
He took the wine and put it on the table, his eyes fixed on her legs.
Bryony felt her whole body warm with embarrassment. She hardly ever showed her legs. She usually wore trousers for work because they were more practical, and when she went to the pub with the rest of the mountain rescue team she wore trousers, too.
But tonight, for the first time in ages, she’d put on a pair of sheer, black stockings and she was beginning to wish she hadn’t.
‘You hate it, don’t you?’ she croaked, and his eyes lifted and welded to hers.
‘Hate what?’
She swallowed. ‘The way I look. My dress. Me. You’re staring and staring.’
Jack let out a breath. ‘That’s because I don’t think you should be going out with a man dressed like that,’ he said tightly. ‘It sends out all the wrong messages.’
She frowned at him, totally confused. ‘What messages?’
He tensed. ‘Well—that you’re available.’
‘Jack,’ she said patiently, ‘I am available. That is the message I want to send out.’
‘So you wear a skirt that’s up to your bottom?’ He glared at her and she stared back helplessly, totally confused by his attitude.
She’d met some of the girls that he’d dated and they were almost all blondes with skirts up round their bottoms.
‘Jack, my skirt is just above the knee,’ she pointed out, glancing down at herself to check that half her dress hadn’t fallen off without her knowledge. ‘It is nowhere near my bottom.’
‘Well, it’s definitely too low in the front,’ he said hoarsely, reaching across the kitchen table, yanking a flower out of a vase and snapping it halfway up the stem. ‘Try this.’
He walked up to her and slipped the flower down the neckline of her dress and stood back with a frown.
‘That’s a bit better.’
‘Jack—’
Before she could say anything, Lizzie came running into the room wearing a pink gauze fairy dress and wearing wings. ‘Jack, Jack!’ She flung herself into his arms and he picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
‘Hello, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be in bed?’
‘I was waiting for you.’ Lizzie curled her legs round his waist and waggled her finger at him. ‘Look. I’m wearing three rings. They’re sweets really, but aren’t they great?’
Jack dutifully studied her finger. ‘Really great. And if you get hungry in the night you can eat them.’
Lizzie beamed. ‘Can we play a game, Jack?’
‘Sure.’ Jack put her down gently and smiled indulgently. ‘Any game you like. Just name it.’
‘Weddings.’
Jack’s smile vanished. ‘Weddings?’
Lizzie nodded happily. ‘Yes, you know. You’re the boy and I’m the girl and we get married.’
Jack gave a shudder. ‘I don’t know the rules, sweetheart.’
Bryony covered her hand with her mouth to hide her smile. Jack was brilliant at playing with her daughter but ‘Weddings’ was the one game guaranteed to bring him out in a rash.
‘It’s easy,’ Lizzie assured him happily. ‘We hold hands and then we get married.’
Jack ran a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Bryony for help, but she simply smiled.
‘Weddings, Jack,’ she said softly, her eyes dancing as she looked at him. ‘That well-known game enjoyed by men and women the world over.’
His eyes shot daggers at her but he turned to Lizzie with a resigned sigh. ‘All right, peanut, tell me what I have to do.’
‘Well, first I have to go and dress up.’ Lizzie shot out of the room and Jack turned on Bryony.
‘She’s playing weddings?’
‘She’s a girl, Jack,’ Bryony said mildly. ‘Girls play weddings.’
‘I’m breaking out in a sweat here,’ he muttered dryly, and she grinned unsympathetically.
‘She’s seven years old. I think you can cope. Great practice for when you do the real thing.’
His gaze locked on hers, his blue eyes mocking. ‘You know I’m never doing the real thing.’
‘Well, don’t tell my daughter that. I don’t want her saddled with your prejudices about relationships.’
‘I should be teaching her about reality.’
Before Bryony could answer, Lizzie danced back into the room, this time wearing a full-length sparkly dress complete with glittering tiara.
Jack blinked. ‘Wow …’ He cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t know you had a tiara.’
‘I’ve got seven,’ Lizzie said proudly, and Bryony smiled cheerfully.
‘A girl can never have too many tiaras, can she, Lizzie?’
‘Come on, Jack.’ Lizzie grabbed his hand. ‘First we have to hold hands and walk across the carpet. Mummy can video us.’
Jack glanced at Bryony who could barely stand up she was laughing so much. ‘Great idea, Lizzie,’ she choked. ‘It would make great viewing at the MRT Christmas party. Jack finally getting married.’
Jack scowled, but his eyes were dancing. ‘Revenge is going to be sweet, Blondie,’ he warned softly, but he was laughing too and shaking his head as Lizzie dragged him into the sitting room and Bryony reached for the video camera.
To give him his due, Jack treated the whole occasion with the appropriate amount of solemnity, sweeping Lizzie’s hand to his lips as if she were a princess.
At first Bryony was laughing so much that she could hardly keep the camera steady, but as she watched Jack playing his role to perfection and saw the delight on her little girl’s face, her smile faded and she felt an ache growing inside her. Jack was so brilliant with Lizzie. And although he couldn’t see it himself, he’d make a wonderful father.
She was reminding herself firmly that she wasn’t going to think that way any more when the doorbell rang and she realised that her date had arrived.
She answered the door and David stood on the doorstep, flourishing a bunch of flowers.
‘Are they for me? They’re beautiful, thank you.’ She smiled at him and was wondering whether she ought to kiss him when she heard Jack clear his throat behind her.
‘You’ll need a coat, Blondie,’ he said coolly, the humour gone from his eyes as he held out the long woollen coat that she always wore to work and which covered her from her neck to her ankles.
‘I was going to take my pashmina,’ Bryony began, but Jack walked up behind her and draped the coat over her shoulders, pulling it closed at the front so that not one single inch of her was visible.
‘It’s too cold for a pashmina,’ he grated. ‘You don’t want to get hypothermia over dinner.’ He stood back and gave David a nod. ‘She needs to be home at eleven.’
‘What?’ Bryony gaped at him and then gave an embarrassed laugh. They hadn’t even discussed what time he wanted her home but she’d assumed that she could be as late as she liked. She knew Jack well enough to know that he didn’t go to bed early himself. And invariably he slept in her spare room. So why was he saying that she needed to be in by eleven?
David gave an awkward smile. ‘Eleven is fine.’
Bryony scowled, less than impressed that he hadn’t stood up to Jack. Surely he should have said that he’d bring her home when he was ready, or some such thing. She knew for sure that if someone had told Jack that he should bring a girl home by eleven he would have kept her out for the whole night just to prove a point.
But she’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to think about Jack, she reminded herself hastily, taking the flowers through to the kitchen and putting them in water.
When she arrived back at the door the two men were staring at each other. David looked mildly embarrassed and Jack was standing, feet planted firmly apart, very much the dominant male and not in the slightest bit embarrassed.
Deciding that Jack had definitely gone mad, Bryony held out a hand to David and smiled. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Jack.’ Lizzie tugged his arm and frowned at him. ‘You’re skipping bits.’
Jack shook himself and stared down at the book he was supposed to be reading. ‘Am I?’
‘Yes.’ Lizzie grabbed the book from him and went back two pages. ‘You didn’t read this page at all. And you’ve got a funny look on your face.’
‘Have I?’
Jack tried to concentrate on the pink fairy flying across the page of the book but all he could see was Bryony in that dress. He hadn’t seen her legs since she’d been in the netball team at school and he and her brothers had gone to matches to cheer her on, but he now realised that his best friend had sensational legs.
And if she was going to start showing them, how the hell was he going to protect her?
And it wasn’t just her legs, of course …
He closed his eyes, trying to forget the shadowy dip between her full breasts revealed by the cut of her dress.
Right now they were in the restaurant and David was probably sitting opposite her, staring into paradise.
With a soft curse he stood up and the book fell to the floor.
‘You said a rude word, Jack,’ Lizzie said mildly, leaning over and retrieving the book.
‘Sorry.’ Suddenly seized by inspiration, he gave Lizzie a smile. ‘How would you like to call your mother and say goodnight?’
‘Now?’
‘Sure, why not?’ Before Dr Armstrong had time to get too hot and over-eager. Suddenly driven by an urgency that he couldn’t explain, Jack grabbed Lizzie’s hand and dragged her into the kitchen. ‘We’ll ring her mobile.’
Lizzie looked at him uncertainly. ‘Grandma says we only ring if there’s an emergency.’
Jack was already pressing the keys. ‘Trust me, this is an emergency,’ he assured her, his mind still mentally on Bryony’s creamy breasts. His mouth tightened. ‘A big emergency. Her baby girl wants to say goodnight.’
Trying to ignore the fact that Lizzie was looking at him as though he was slightly mad, Jack held the receiver and waited for Bryony to answer.
As the phone rang and rang, his heart started to thud in his chest.
Why the hell wasn’t she answering?
Unless she wasn’t at dinner after all. What if the rat had taken one look at that dress and whisked Bryony back to his flat?
‘Uncle Jack, you’re breathing really fast,’ Lizzie said, climbing onto a kitchen stool, her fairy wings still attached to her back. ‘And you look weird.’
He felt weird.
Why wasn’t she answering?
David sat back in his chair. ‘Is that your phone?’
Bryony looked at him, startled, and then picked up her bag. ‘Oh, my goodness, yes.’ She fumbled in her handbag, her stomach turning over. ‘I hope nothing is wrong with Lizzie. I don’t usually get phoned …’
She delved amongst tissues, make-up, notebooks and various pink hairbands that belonged to her daughter and eventually found the phone.
Feeling distinctly nervous, she answered it. ‘Jack?’ She cast an apologetic look at David. ‘Is something wrong?’
She listened for a moment and then frowned. ‘I’m in the restaurant, Jack. Where did you think I was? Well, I couldn’t find my phone.’
At that moment the waiter delivered their starter and Bryony smiled her thanks, trying to ignore his look of disapproval. She knew that mobile phones were banned from lots of restaurants but she refused to turn hers off in case Lizzie needed her.
But it seemed that all Lizzie wanted was to say goodnight. Strange, Bryony thought as she spoke to her daughter and then ended the call. Lizzie was normally fine. Especially when she was with Jack. She loved being with Jack.
‘Everything OK?’ David looked at her quizzically and she smiled.
‘Fine. Sorry about that.’
She picked up her fork and tucked into her starter, determined to relax. Part of her mind was still dwelling on the fact that Jack had hated her dress, but she ignored it. David seemed to think she looked nice and that was all that mattered.
They chattered about work and the mountain rescue team and they were just tucking into their main course when her phone rang again.
This time Bryony heard it immediately and stopped the ringing before the waiter had time to glare at her.
It was Jack again, this time telling her that Lizzie was refusing to take her fairy wings off.
Bryony frowned. This was a guy who could save a life halfway up a mountain in a howling gale with nothing more than a penknife and a piece of string.
And he was calling her about fairy wings?
‘Just take them off when she’s asleep, Jack,’ she muttered, smiling apologetically at David as she slipped the phone back into her bag.
She tried valiantly to resume the conversation but when Jack called for the third time, David raised his hand and gestured to the waiter.
‘I think I’ll take you home,’ he said dryly. ‘Then you can answer Jack’s questions in person and he won’t have to keep calling you.’
‘Sorry.’ Bryony blushed slightly. As a first date it had been less than perfect. ‘I honestly don’t know what’s the matter with him. He and Lizzie are normally fine together.’
David drove her home and then walked her up the path to her cottage. At the front door he paused, his expression thoughtful as he looked down at her.
Bryony stared back, feeling slightly awkward. Was he going to kiss her?
Suddenly she felt a flash of panic. She wasn’t actually sure that she wanted him to kiss her.
His head was bending towards hers when the front door was jerked open and Jack stood there, broad-shouldered and imposing.
‘You’re home. Great.’
Bryony looked at David. ‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’
‘He needs to get going,’ Jack said coldly, his face unsmiling. ‘The roads are icy tonight and they’re forecasting snow.’
David was silent for a moment, his eyes on Jack. ‘Right. In that case I’d better make a move.’
‘OK, then.’ Secretly relieved by the decision, Bryony stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed it.’
‘Me, too.’ David was still looking at Jack and then he gave a funny smile and turned to Bryony. ‘I’ll see you at work.’
With that he turned the collar of his coat up and strolled back down her path towards his car.
Bryony followed Jack into the cottage and slipped her coat off.
‘I’m sorry Lizzie was such hard work tonight, Jack.’ She strolled into the kitchen and flipped the kettle on. ‘She never normally wants to call me. And she doesn’t normally care if she’s lost the book she was reading—she’ll just pick another one. It doesn’t sound as though you managed to relax at all.’
‘I managed.’ Jack sank onto one of the kitchen chairs and put his feet on the table in his usual pose. ‘I expect she was just a bit unsettled by the thought of you going out with a strange man.’
Bryony frowned slightly. It was Lizzie who had suggested this whole daddy business, so why would she be unsettled? On the other hand, perhaps she hadn’t really thought the whole thing through. It was certainly true that Lizzie wasn’t used to seeing strange men in her life. She saw Jack and her two uncles and that was about it.
‘She’ll get used to it.’
‘Maybe.’ Jack sounded noncommittal. ‘So—did you have a good evening?’
There was something in his tone that she couldn’t interpret and Bryony lifted two mugs out of the cupboard, not sure how to answer. Had she had a good evening? If she was honest, she didn’t really feel she’d had a chance to talk to David. Every time they’d begun a conversation the phone had rung.
Poor Lizzie.
She’d talk to her tomorrow and see how she felt about the whole thing. She certainly didn’t want to go on dates if it was going to upset her daughter.
‘I had a nice evening,’ she said finally, not wanting to admit to Jack that it had been anything less than perfect. ‘It’s a shame David wouldn’t come in for coffee.’
‘It’s not a shame. It was a lucky escape.’ Jack swung his legs off the table and glared at her. ‘Never invite a man in for coffee.’
Bryony looked at him in astonishment. ‘I was being polite.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Offering to have sex with a man is being polite?’
Bryony gaped at him, stunned. ‘I did not offer to have sex with him, I offered him coffee.’
‘It’s the same thing.’ A muscle flickered in his jaw, rough with stubble so late in the evening. He looked dark and dangerous and Bryony felt her stomach flip.
Why couldn’t she find David even half as attractive? She’d been less than enthusiastic at the possibility of him kissing her, but if it had been Jack who’d been on the doorstep with her …
Reminding herself that she wasn’t supposed to be noticing Jack, Bryony picked up the coffee-jar.
‘Coffee is the same as sex?’ She twisted the jar in her hand, looking at it with a mocking expression. ‘Full of caffeine and sold in supermarkets. I don’t think so.’
Jack glared at her. ‘You can joke about it, but do you really think a man wants to sit around, drinking your coffee?’
‘You’re sitting around, drinking my coffee,’ Bryony pointed out logically, and his mouth hardened.
‘That’s different. I’m not trying to get you into my bed.’
More’s the pity, Bryony thought wistfully, putting the coffee down on the side. If Jack ever tried to get her into his bed she’d be there like a flash.
‘Jack, I’m sure David didn’t have anything immoral on his mind.’
‘Which just shows how little you know about men,’ Jack said tightly. ‘Do you know the average man thinks about sex every six seconds?’
‘So presumably that’s why they say men are like photocopiers,’ Bryony said dryly. ‘Good for reproduction but not much else.’
For once Jack didn’t laugh and she sighed inwardly. There was obviously something about the idea of her dating that short-circuited his sense of humour.
Suddenly she wanted the old Jack back. The Jack that called her Blondie and teased her unmercifully. The Jack with the wicked smile and the sexiest wink known to woman.
‘Jack.’ Her tone was patient. ‘I invited David in for coffee because I was being polite. I had no intention of having sex with him.’
‘And what if he’d decided to have sex with you?’
She looked at him in exasperation. ‘Well, despite the colour of my hair I do have a brain and a mouth,’ she said tartly. ‘I can think no and say no. At the same time. Amazing really. If I concentrate really hard I can add two and two. Jack, what is the matter with you?’
‘I just think you’re being naïve.’
‘Inviting a guy in for coffee?’ Bryony gritted her teeth and shook her head. ‘You’ve gone crazy, do you know that?’
There was a long silence and streaks of colour touched his hard cheekbones. ‘Maybe I have,’ he said shortly, putting his half-full mug on the table and rising to his feet in a fluid movement. ‘I’d better get home.’
‘Fine. Thank you for babysitting.’
‘You’re welcome.’
As a farewell it had none of its usual warmth and Bryony turned away and poured the rest of her coffee down the sink, boiling with frustration and feeling confused and upset.
She heard Jack stride to her front door, heard him pick up his jacket and car keys and then the front door slammed behind him.
Bryony winced and let out a long breath.
Just what was going on with Jack?
Bryony was nervous about working with Jack the next day but he seemed back to his usual self, relaxed and good-humoured as they sat in the staffroom and discussed the shifts for Bonfire Night.
‘It’s my turn.’ Sean Nicholson, one of the other consultants, looked at Jack with a resigned expression on his face. ‘You deserve a year off from Bonfire Night. You’ve had a bad few years.’
Jack rolled his eyes. ‘I won’t know what to do with myself,’ he drawled, and Bryony gave him a sympathetic smile.
‘You hate this time of year, don’t you?’
‘I’ve just seen too many kids with burns after handling fireworks,’ he said grimly, scribbling something on his pad. ‘OK, so Blondie and I are officially off that night, but if you need us you can call us.’ He looked at Bryony. ‘Would you be able to come in that night if we needed you?’
Bryony nodded. ‘After eight. I’m taking Lizzie to her bonfire party.’
Jack stared at her, his body suddenly unnaturally still. ‘What bonfire party?’
‘Her friend is having a few sparklers in the garden. Nothing dramatic,’ Bryony assured him, but he shook his head.
‘No way.’ His jaw was tense. ‘She shouldn’t be going.’
Bryony sighed. ‘She’s seven, Jack. She wants to be with her friends.’
‘So? Invite them all out for a hamburger.’
‘It’s just a few fireworks and drinks for the parents. It will be over by eight.’
He let out a breath. ‘All right. But I’m coming with you.’
‘Jack—’
‘I’m off and I’m bored.’ His blue eyes glittered dangerously. ‘It’s that or she doesn’t go.’
‘You’re not her father, Jack!’ Suddenly remembering that Sean was still in the room, Bryony coloured with embarrassment and shot them an apologetic look. ‘Sorry, you guys.’
‘No problem,’ Sean said easily, ‘and I’m sure we won’t need you here so just go and have a good time.’
‘Great. That’s what we’ll do, then.’
Jack ran through the rest of the rota and Sean left the room.
Bryony looked at him. ‘So what are you planning to do? Bring the fire brigade?’
‘When you’ve spent as long working in A and E as I have, you won’t let your daughter go to domestic firework parties,’ he said tightly. ‘It’s fine. I’ll come, too. And you can tell Lizzie’s friend’s mother that I want a bucket of sand and another bucket of water handy.’
‘Why don’t we just have an ambulance on standby, just in case?’ Bryony suggested tartly. ‘Anne’s mother will think I’ve gone barmy.’
‘Better barmy than burned.’ Jack strode to the door. ‘What time does it start?’
‘We’re getting there at five-thirty for tea and then fireworks,’ Bryony said wearily, and Jack nodded.
‘Right. I’ll pick you both up at five-fifteen. And I want Lizzie in gloves. She’s not touching a sparkler with her bare hands.’
Bryony stood up and followed him out of the staffroom, wanting to argue but knowing that he was only being cautious.
He had dealt with a huge number of burns on Bonfire Night, all of which could have been avoided.
And he did adore Lizzie.
Deciding that she should be grateful that he was so protective of her daughter, she picked up a set of notes and called the next patient from the waiting room.
And secretly part of her was excited at spending an evening with Jack. Even if it was in the company of half a dozen parents and their offspring.
It would be lovely to have him there, even though nothing was going to happen.
Reminding herself that Jack was not the man she was dating, she sat down in her chair and waited for the patient to arrive.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE NIGHT of the bonfire party was freezing cold and Bryony pulled on her jeans and thickest jumper and wore her long black coat.
Lizzie was wearing a bright pink hat, pink tights and a pink fleece, and Jack blinked when he arrived to pick them up.
‘How are my girls?’ He picked Lizzie up and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘You’re looking very pink, angel.’ He spoke in that lazy drawl that sent butterflies flitting through Bryony’s stomach. ‘Do you have any pink gloves to go with that outfit, sweetheart?’
‘Somewhere.’
Jack smiled and put her back down. ‘Find them for me, there’s a good girl.’ He looked at Bryony and she smiled, determined to have a nice evening.
‘Is my dress decent enough for you, Jack?’
For a moment he didn’t react and then he laughed. ‘Exactly the way I like it. None of you showing.’
Bryony rolled her eyes and tried not to be offended that he didn’t actually want to see any of her body. Obviously she was lacking in something, or he would have pounced on her long ago.
Lizzie came back into the hall, holding her gloves, and Jack nodded.
‘Good girl.’ He opened the front door and led them towards his car. ‘Now, Lizzie, tonight when the fireworks start, I want you to stay by me. The whole time. OK?’
‘But what if I want to play with my friends?’
‘You can play with them before and after,’ he said firmly, strapping her into her seat. ‘But during the fireworks, you stay with me.’
Lizzie’s eyes were huge and solemn. ‘Are you very afraid of them, Jack? Will I need to hold your hand?’
Bryony smothered a giggle but Jack’s expression didn’t flicker. ‘I’m terrified of them, angel. And I’m relying on you to be beside me.’
‘I’ll be there the whole time,’ Lizzie assured him, and Bryony rolled her eyes as she slid into the passenger seat, knowing that Jack had got his own way.
Lizzie’s friend Anne lived in a house with a huge garden and they arrived to find that the trees had been decorated with fairy lights and everyone was gathered round, laughing and waiting for sausages to cook.
It felt wintry and cold, and delicious smells wafted through the freezing air.
‘Hello, Lizzie.’ Anne’s mother greeted them warmly and drew them into the garden, introducing them to people they didn’t know.
‘Where have you stored the fireworks?’ was Jack’s first question, and Bryony put a hand on his arm and smiled at Anne’s mother.
‘Jack is a consultant in A and E,’ she explained hastily, ‘and we doctors are always a bit nervous of fireworks. Take no notice.’
‘Anne’s father has it all under control,’ the woman assured them, waving a hand towards the bottom of the garden. ‘The children won’t be allowed near them. Apart from the sparklers, of course.’
Bryony saw Jack’s mouth open and quickly spoke before he did. ‘That’s great,’ she said cheerfully, her fingers biting into his arm like a vice. ‘Those sausages smell fantastic.’
‘Well, we’re just about ready to eat.’ Anne’s mother led them to a table loaded with food. ‘Grab yourself a roll and some ketchup and tuck in!’
She walked away and Jack scowled at Bryony. ‘You just made holes in my arm.’
‘I was trying to stop you embarrassing Lizzie,’ she hissed, smiling sweetly at one of the mothers who passed. ‘Now, eat something and relax. Try and remember that you only see the disasters in A and E. You don’t see the normal, happy bonfire parties that everyone enjoys.’
There was a long silence and then, to her surprise, Jack sucked in a breath and gave her a lopsided smile. ‘You’re right,’ he said dryly, running a hand through his cropped dark hair. ‘I’m being an idiot. It’s just that I love Lizzie so much.’
Bryony’s face softened. ‘I know you do.’ On impulse she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, feeling the roughness of stubble against her lips and smelling the sexy male smell that was Jack.
He looked startled. ‘What was that for?’
‘For being you.’ Deciding that, for a girl who was supposed to be forgetting about Jack, she wasn’t actually doing that well, Bryony left him by the bread rolls and went and found Lizzie.
‘You kissed Jack.’ Lizzie was looking at her curiously and Bryony felt herself blush.
‘Just on the cheek,’ she said hastily, and Lizzie tipped her head on one side.
‘Jack would make a cool dad.’
Pretending that she hadn’t heard that remark, Bryony turned to chat to one of the mothers that she knew vaguely, trying not to look at Jack who was now deep in conversation with one of the prettiest mothers in the school. He looked broad-shouldered and powerful with his back to her, and her stomach twisted as she saw the woman laughing up at him flirtatiously.
Reminding herself that she was supposed to be getting a life and forgetting about Jack, Bryony joined in with the others, handing food to the children, topping up drinks and wiping ketchup from faces.
Anne’s father lit the bonfire and the flames licked towards the dark sky, suddenly illuminating the massive garden.
‘You kids stay here,’ he ordered cheerfully. ‘I’m going to start the show.’
‘Mummy, can I have another drink?’ Lizzie tugged at her sleeve, her cheeks pink from the cold, and Bryony took her hand and led her over to the table.
‘What do you want?’ She picked up some empty cartons and then found a full one. ‘Apple juice OK?’
‘Great.’ Lizzie took the cup and looked around her happily. ‘Isn’t this great, Mummy? You, me and Jack together.’
Bryony swallowed. ‘Well, er, we’re not exactly …’ Then she smiled weakly. ‘Yes, sweetheart, it’s great.’
There were shrieks of excitement from the other children as they played closer to the fire and Bryony felt a stab of unease.
They were too close …
Opening her mouth to caution them, she noticed the other parents laughing, totally relaxed, and closed her mouth again. She really must try and act like a normal parent and not like a doctor, seeing accidents everywhere.
‘Can I go and play, Mummy?’ Lizzie put her drink down and moved towards the other children, but Bryony grabbed her arm, struck by a premonition so powerful that it made her gasp. ‘No, Lizzie. I think—’
Before she could even finish her sentence there was a series of horrific screams from Annie, and Bryony saw flames engulfing her little body with frightening speed.
‘Oh, my God—Jack!’ Bryony screamed his name at the top of her voice and ran forward, dragging off her coat as she ran.
Jack was there before her, knocking the girl to the ground and covering her with his jacket. ‘Cold water—get me cold water now!’ His voice was harsh and everyone ran to do as he said while Bryony stood there, so shocked she could hardly move.
All Jack’s attention was on the injured girl. ‘It’s going to be all right, sweetheart. You’re going to be fine.’ Jack lifted his head and looked straight at one of the fathers. ‘Call the paramedics and get me a hosepipe and cling film. Blondie, I need your help with her clothes.’ Bryony still didn’t move.
‘Dr Hunter.’ His voice was sharp. ‘I need your help here.’
His sharp reminder of her profession brought her back to reality. She nodded and breathed deeply, trying to forget that it was Annie lying on the ground.
Her daughter’s friend.
Annie’s mother was screaming hysterically and clinging to the other mothers while two of the fathers had fortunately listened to Jack’s orders and rolled out a hosepipe.
‘OK, sweetheart, you’re going to be fine.’ Jack carried on talking to Annie, his voice gentle and reassuring as he removed his jacket from the injured girl and took the end of the hosepipe.
Bryony dropped on her knees beside him. ‘What do you want me to do?’
She felt physically sick but as usual Jack was rock-solid and totally calm.
‘Her clothes are smouldering. If they’re not actually stuck to her body, I want them off.’
He turned the hose onto Annie’s body, the cold water taking the heat away from the burn as Bryony struggled to remove the clothing.
‘Get me scissors.’
Someone quickly produced a pair and she cut the clothing away as gently as she could, careful not to disturb any that actually adhered to the burn.
‘It’s all below her waist,’ Jack said softly, his eyes assessing the area of the burn. ‘It’s the skirt area. Her skirt caught fire. Has someone called the ambulance?’
‘I did, Jack,’ Lizzie said in a shaky voice from right beside them. ‘They said they’d be here in two minutes.’
‘Good girl.’ Jack gave her a nod of approval. ‘Sweetheart, I need some clingfilm. The stuff you wrap round food in the kitchen. The women over there are too upset to help and the men seem to have forgotten. Can you find it for me, angel?’
Lizzie nodded and shot down the garden towards the house, legs and arms pumping. She was back in less than a minute with a long, thin box.
‘That’s my girl. Now open it up for me,’ Jack ordered, and Lizzie fished it out awkwardly and struggled to find the end.
‘How much do you want?’
‘I’ll do it, Lizzie.’ Bryony took it from her, worried about her daughter seeing her friend so badly injured. ‘You can go into the house with the other children.’
‘I want to help.’
They heard the sound of an ambulance approaching and Jack looked at Lizzie. ‘Go and meet them. Tell them I want oxygen, two large-bore cannulae, IV fluids and morphine. Have you got that?’
Lizzie nodded and Bryony glanced at him.
‘She won’t remember that, Jack, she’s only seven.’
‘She’ll remember,’ Jack said firmly, his eyes fixed on Lizzie. ‘Oxygen, two large-bore cannulae, IV fluids and morphine. Go, angel.’
Lizzie sped back down the garden to meet the ambulance, leaving Jack and Bryony to wrap the exposed burns.
‘Can you get us clean sheets?’ Bryony addressed one of the fathers who was hovering by helplessly.
‘And someone put that bonfire out,’ Jack added, checking Annie’s pulse and breathing.
She’d stopped screaming and was lying shivering, sobbing quietly, her father by her side.
Annie’s mother was still hysterical at the far side of the garden.
Seconds later the paramedics arrived with Lizzie, complete with all the equipment that Jack had asked for.
As Bryony grabbed the oxygen and fitted the mask gently to Annie’s face, Jack smiled at Lizzie, his blue eyes showering her with approval and warmth.
‘Good girl.’
Despite the stress of the situation Lizzie returned the smile bravely and Jack gave a nod.
‘All right, I’m going to need your help here, Lizzie. Annie needs some fluid and we’re going to put a line in and give her fluid through her arm. Then we’re going to take her to hospital. I want you to hold this for me.’
Bryony looked at him uncertainly, still not sure that her young daughter should be exposed to the harsh realities of immediate care, but Jack seemed determined to involve her and Lizzie was frowning with concentration as she listened carefully to Jack’s instructions and did as he asked.
Too worried about little Annie to argue, Bryony turned her attention back to the little girl, following Jack’s instructions to the letter.
‘Shall I give her morphine?’
‘We’re going to give it IV.’ Jack murmured, picking up a cannula and searching for a vein. ‘Can you squeeze for me?’
Bryony took Annie’s little arm and squeezed, praying that Jack would find a vein first time.
He did, of course, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Give her the morphine and cyclizine in there and then we’ll put a line in the other arm, too,’ Jack said, holding out a hand for the syringe that the paramedic was holding ready. ‘OK, sweetheart.’ He looked down at Annie, his eyes gentle. ‘This is going to make you feel better, I promise. And then we’re going to take you to hospital. You’re doing fine. You’re brilliant.’
He gave the morphine and then put a cannula into the other arm and looked at Bryony. ‘OK, let’s get some fluid into her and get her covered or she’ll get hypothermia from the cold water.’
He and Bryony worked together, each anticipating the other’s needs, until finally the little girl was stabilised and in the ambulance.
‘I’ll go with her,’ Jack said. ‘Meet me at the hospital when you’ve dropped Lizzie at your mother’s.’
‘I want to come, too,’ Lizzie said firmly, and Bryony shook her head.
‘Sweetheart, no.’
‘Bring her,’ Jack said firmly. ‘I’ll run her home later. She can wait in the staffroom.’
He dug in his pocket and produced his car keys, a wry smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘If you prang my car, Blondie, you’re history.’ Handing the keys to Lizzie, he jerked his head towards the front of the house. ‘Go and wait for your mother by the car, sweetheart.’
Lizzie did as she was told and Jack took Bryony by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. ‘She’s just seen her best friend horribly burned,’ he said quietly. ‘That is going to stay with her a long time and will be easier to bear if she knows she did something to help. Trust me on this one. She’s tough, our Lizzie. She’ll be fine. But do it my way.’
Bryony swallowed and nodded, knowing that whatever they did now the trauma had already happened for Lizzie. Maybe it was best for her to be involved.
Anne’s parents came over, her mother clinging to her husband, her face streaked with tears.
‘Can we go in the ambulance with her?’
Jack exchanged glances with one of the paramedics and then nodded. ‘Of course. But try and be calm. I know it’s a terrible shock but she needs you to be strong. If she sees you panicking, then she’ll panic, and I don’t want her any more scared than she is already.’
Bryony waited while they loaded Annie into the ambulance and then she joined Lizzie by Jack’s car.
She pressed the remote to unlock the door and gave a short laugh. Now she knew it was an emergency. There was no other reason that Jack would have let her near his precious sports car—he never let anyone drive it.
She strapped Lizzie in the front seat and slid into the driver’s seat, telling herself that it was only a car. Exactly like her car really, except that it was capable of ridiculous speed and cost about fifteen times as much.
She started the engine and flinched as the car gave a throaty growl. ‘Boys with toys,’ she muttered disparagingly, finding first gear and carefully pulling out of the driveway onto the road. She just hoped she didn’t meet any other traffic on the way to hospital.
When she arrived she settled Lizzie in the staffroom, promising to come back and update her as soon as possible.
Jack was already in Resus, along with Sean Nicholson and a full team of staff. Jack was barking out instructions as he worked to stabilise Annie.
‘Can someone check her weight with her parents?’
‘I’ve just done it.’ Bryony hurried into the room and reached in her pocket for a calculator. ‘I’ve worked out 4 mils of fluid per kilogram multiplied by the percentage of the burn. Do you have that yet?’
‘Just doing it. My estimate is twenty-two per cent,’ Jack said, glancing up at her. ‘Are you OK?’
Bryony nodded and studied the Lund and Browder charts that helped them to assess the area of the burn according to age. ‘You’re about right, Jack,’ she said lightly, feeding the numbers into her calculator. ‘I make it twenty-two per cent.’
She worked out the volume of fluid and showed her calculation to Jack.
‘Right.’ He gave a nod. ‘So she needs that in twenty-four hours, but we need to give her half in the first eight hours and monitor her urine output. I want her to have a combination of crystalloid and colloid.’
‘Catheter is in,’ Nicky said quickly, ‘and I’ve started a chart.’
‘Great. Can you test her urine? And, Bryony, we need to take some bloods before she’s transferred. Cross-matching, FBC, COHb, U and Es, glucose and coagulation.’
Bryony reached for the appropriate bottles. ‘You’re sending her to the burns unit?’
Jack nodded. ‘The helicopter is waiting to take her as soon as we give the word. I’ve spoken to the consultant, he’s waiting for her.’
Bryony took the samples and then went to talk to Annie. The little girl was drifting in and out of sleep, hardly aware of what was going on around her.
‘I gave her some sedation,’ Jack said softly, covering the last of the burns and then giving Nicky a nod. ‘OK. Let’s go.’
‘Are you going with her?’
He nodded. ‘Take Lizzie home in my car. I’ll see you later.’
‘How will you get home?’
‘I’ll get the paramedics to drop me at your place, or I’ll grab a taxi.’ He shrugged, totally unconcerned, and she nodded.
‘Fine. I’ll see you later. Do you want me to talk to Annie’s parents?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Sean said immediately. ‘That way you can get home with your little girl and Jack can get loaded into the helicopter.’
Bryony was tucking Lizzie into bed when she heard the doorbell. ‘That will be Jack.’
She dropped a kiss on Lizzie’s forehead and went to answer the door, praying that Annie’s condition hadn’t worsened during the transfer.
‘How is she?’
Jack strolled into her house and gave a shiver, and it was only then that she remembered that he’d used his jacket to put out the flames and that he’d been working only in a jumper. He must be freezing.
‘Come and sit by the fire,’ she urged, and he did as she’d suggested, stretching out his hands towards the flames.
‘It’s nice and warm in here.’ He looked at her. ‘Is my girl asleep?’
Bryony shook her head, her expression troubled. ‘No. She’s very upset by it all.’
‘Of course she is.’ His jaw tightened. ‘I’ll talk to her.’
They both walked towards Lizzie’s bedroom and Jack strolled in and settled himself on the edge of the bed.
‘Hi, there.’ His voice was soft and Lizzie stared up at him, her eyes huge in her pretty face.
‘Hi, Jack.’ Her smile was shaky. ‘Annie is very badly hurt, isn’t she?’
Jack hesitated. ‘She is pretty badly hurt,’ he agreed, and Bryony mentally thanked him for not lying. She knew that Annie’s condition was serious and if anything happened to the little girl, she didn’t want Lizzie to feel that they’d been dishonest.
‘Is she going to die?’ Lizzie’s voice trembled and Jack shook his head.
‘No, sweetheart. I’m sure she isn’t going to die. I’ve just taken her to a special hospital where they know all about burns.’
‘Can I go and see her there?’
‘Sure,’ Jack said immediately. ‘We’ll go together.’
Tears suddenly welled up in Lizzie’s eyes and Jack immediately leaned forward and lifted the little girl onto his lap.
‘Don’t cry, baby,’ he said roughly, stroking her hair with his strong hand and exchanging an agonised look with Bryony. ‘You were brilliant. My little star. All those grown-ups were panicking and you were cool as ice cream.’
Lizzie gave a sniff and pulled away from him, but her little hands still clutched at his jumper. ‘I told the paramedics everything you wanted, just like you said.’
‘I know you did.’ Jack smiled down at her, pride in his eyes. ‘You were unbelievable. And I was so proud of you. You really helped save Annie.’
‘I helped?’ Lizzie’s face brightened slightly. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ Jack nodded, his handsome face serious. ‘You see, you did all the right things. Everyone was scared and I bet you were, too, but you didn’t let being scared stop you from doing what needed to be done. And that makes you a very special person.’
‘It does?’
‘Certainly. I don’t know many grown-ups who would have been as calm as you and remembered all those things and done what you did.’ Jack lifted a hand and stroked Lizzie’s blonde curls away from her face. ‘One day, if you wanted to, I think you could be a very important doctor.’
Bryony swallowed down a lump in her throat and Lizzie’s eyes widened. ‘Like you and Mummy?’
Jack grinned. ‘Maybe not quite as important as me,’ he said teasingly, winking at Bryony who smiled back weakly. ‘But important, just the same.’
Lizzie gave a gurgle of laughter and punched him on the shoulder. ‘That’s boasting, Jack,’ she said reprovingly, and wound her arms round his neck. ‘I’m glad you and Mummy were there.’
For a brief moment Jack squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw tense, and Bryony knew exactly what was going through his mind. He’d been imagining a scene where he hadn’t been there, a scene where there hadn’t been a doctor on site to administer first aid, a scene where Lizzie might have been the one near the bonfire.
She gave a little shudder, imagining the same scene, and Jack’s eyes opened and locked on hers for a meaningful second.
‘Time for you to go to bed now, angel,’ he said softly, lifting Lizzie off his lap and tucking her under the covers with her mermaid. He leaned across and switched her little pink lamp on. ‘Your mum and I will just be eating some supper in the kitchen. Shout if you want anything.’
‘I don’t want you to go home tonight.’
‘I’m not going,’ Jack said immediately, sounding rock-solid, dependable and altogether too male for Bryony’s piece of mind. ‘Tonight I’m sleeping in your spare room.’
Lizzie gave a smile and they were just tiptoeing to the door when she spoke again.
‘Jack?’ Lizzie’s voice was a little-girl whisper and Bryony saw Jack’s face soften.
‘Yes, angel.’
‘Tomorrow when we wake up, will you play with me?’ Jack grinned. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Can we play Weddings?’
‘My favourite game,’ Jack said softly, walking back across the room and bending down to kiss her one more time. ‘Now, get some sleep. I can’t marry you with black rings under your eyes.’
Lizzie chuckled, sounding much happier. ‘Mummy, will you leave the door open?’
‘Of course, sweetheart. And I’ll pop my head in later.’
Jack followed Bryony out of the room.
‘Thank you for that,’ she said quietly, walking through to the kitchen and opening the fridge. ‘You said all the right things. In fact, you did all the right things, too. My instincts were to just get her out of there.’
‘That would have been my instinct, too, if she hadn’t already seen her friend engulfed by flames,’ Jack said wearily, sinking down on one of her kitchen chairs with a groan. ‘To be honest, I was mostly concentrating on Annie, but I did think that if Lizzie knew she’d helped, she might feel better.’
‘Which she did.’ Bryony removed a bottle of wine from the fridge and handed it to him along with a corkscrew. ‘I just hope she doesn’t have nightmares.’
‘She’s a tough kid,’ Jack said, yanking the cork out and setting the bottle down on the table. ‘She’ll be fine. As soon as Annie is a bit better we can take Lizzie along to see her.’
We.
Listening to him talking as if they were a family, Bryony found it harder and harder to remember that she was supposed to not be thinking of Jack in that way any more.
Remembering how skilled he’d been with Annie brought a lump to her throat. ‘You’re amazing, do you know that?’ She reached into the cupboard for two glasses, trying to keep her tone light. ‘You never lose your cool, no matter what. I just saw Annie on fire and I froze.’
‘Only for about three seconds,’ Jack said easily, stretching out a hand for the glasses and filling them both to the top. ‘And working in a well-equipped A and E department is very different from immediate care, as you know. Here. Have a drink. I think we both need it.’
‘I should cook some supper first.’
‘Forget cooking.’ Jack took a mouthful of wine and gave a groan of pleasure. ‘That’s good. Let’s send out for pizza or something.’
Bryony giggled. ‘I can’t do that. Lizzie will find the boxes in the morning and she’ll kill me. Pizza is her treat.’
Jack shrugged. ‘All right. Indian, then. I left a menu by your phone last time I was here.’
‘It would be nice not to cook,’ Bryony agreed, and Jack stood up.
‘That’s decided, then. Indian it is. What do you want?’
Bryony shrugged. ‘You choose.’
So he did and the food arrived half an hour later and was wonderful.
They were well into the bottle of wine when they heard Lizzie’s screams.
Both of them sprinted to her bedroom to find her sobbing and clutching her mermaid, her face blotched with tears.
‘I keep thinking of Annie.’
Bryony cuddled her close, rocking her gently. ‘Well, of course you do, darling. Annie is your friend. She’s going to be fine, Lizzie.’
As she said the words she prayed that she was right. If anything happened to Annie …
Eventually Lizzie calmed down and fell asleep again and the two of them tiptoed back to the kitchen.
Bryony felt totally stressed and she was seriously worried about the effect of the accident on her daughter. As Jack had rightly said, she’d actually seen it happen. What sort of impact would that have on her in the long term?
She desperately wanted to lean on Jack but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him for the hug she so badly needed.
And then he looked at her and she knew he felt the same way. ‘I hate Bonfire Night.’
His voice was hoarse and for the first time Bryony caught a glimpse of the strain he must have been under.
She gave a little frown. ‘We forget about you, Jack,’ she said softly, stepping up to him and looking at him with concern in her eyes. ‘You always seem so strong—so much the one in charge. Everyone else is panicking and flapping and you’re so calm. It’s easy to forget that you can be affected by things, too.’
‘Hey.’ He gave a sexy grin that belied the strain in his eyes. ‘I’m Mr Tough.’
She smiled. ‘Well, would Mr Tough like a cup of coffee?’
‘As I’m not driving, I’d rather finish the wine,’ he admitted ruefully, reaching for his glass. ‘Do you mind me staying?’
‘Of course not,’ she said blithely, wondering why her heart was thumping so hard. Jack had stayed in her cottage on numerous occasions. Why did this time feel different?
‘I’ll get you some stuff ready,’ she said formally, and he reached out and grabbed her arm.
‘Don’t bother. I don’t wear anything in bed anyway.’
Bryony swallowed hard, trying to dispel the mental image of Jack naked in her spare room.
For a woman who was not supposed to be thinking about Jack Rothwell, she was failing dismally.
‘Jack …’
‘What I really need is a hug.’ Without waiting for a response, he hauled her against him and she went into his arms, feeling the softness of his jumper covering the hard muscle of his chest and the strength of his arms as he held her. He gave a groan and tightened his hold, burying his face in her hair.
Bryony could hardly breathe. She felt the steady thud of his heart against her flushed cheek, felt her whole body tingle in response to the feel of his body against hers. He felt strong and safe and deliciously male.
They stood like that for a moment and she closed her eyes, wishing that it could last for ever. Wishing that it could lead to something more.
And then gradually his grip on her loosened and his hands slid slowly up her arms. His strong fingers curled into her shoulders and he looked down at her, his blue eyes suddenly intent on her face.
A warmth spread slowly through her pelvis and her whole body melted with longing.
She felt his fingers tighten, saw something flicker in his eyes and then his head lowered towards hers.
He was going to kiss her.
Finally, after so many years of dreaming about exactly that, Jack was going to kiss her.
Dizzy with excitement, Bryony stared up at him, breathless with anticipation.
And then suddenly his hands fell away from her shoulders and he stepped back, his handsome face blank of expression.
‘We should probably get some sleep, Blondie.’ His tone was light and he glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s getting late.’
Bryony tried to smile but it was a poor effort. She felt swamped with a disappointment so powerful that it was almost a physical pain. She’d been so sure that he was going to kiss her.
But why would Jack kiss her?
She gritted her teeth, furious with herself. She was doing it again. Fantasising about Jack.
So much for her campaign to date other men. So far she’d been on one date that had been an utter disaster and she was still noticing Jack.
She had less than two months to find Lizzie a daddy, or at least someone who looked as though he had potential. It was time she made more effort.
She needed to kiss someone and see if that helped.
She needed to stop comparing everyone with Jack.
There must be another man who looked good in jeans. There must be another man who always knew exactly what to do when everyone around them was panicking. There must be another man who would make her knees wobble every time he walked into a room.
And she was going to find him.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE rest of November flew past and Annie’s condition gradually improved.
‘The burns are almost all round her skirt area,’ Jack told Bryony one day as they snatched a quick cup of coffee during a late shift. ‘I talked to the consultant last night. She’s going to need extensive skin grafts.’
‘Poor mite.’ Bryony pulled a face at the thought of the number of hospital stays Annie was going to have to endure. ‘It’s going to be so hard for her.’
Jack nodded. ‘But at least she’s alive. And Lizzie seems to have bounced back amazingly well.’
‘Yes.’ Bryony smiled. ‘I was worried about that but she’s doing fine. We’re visiting Annie a lot, which helps, and Lizzie has made it her mission to act as the link between Annie and the school. She’s been taking her all sorts of books and things to do and generally keeping her in touch with the gossip.’
‘She’s a great girl.’ Jack drained his coffee and sat back in his chair with a yawn, long legs stretched out in front of him. ‘So, Blondie. December the first tomorrow.’
Bryony stared gloomily into her coffee. ‘Don’t remind me. I now have less than a month to sort out Lizzie’s Christmas present, and I’m fast coming to the conclusion that it’s an impossible task.’
Jack looked at her quizzically, a strange light in his eyes. ‘So, is the romance with David Armstrong not working?’
Romance?
Bryony looked at him. ‘We’ve been on two dates. The first one we barely had time to talk because you kept calling—not that it was your fault that Lizzie was demanding that night,’ she added hastily, hoping that he didn’t think that she was complaining, ‘and the second date was disturbed because you called him back to the hospital to see a child. And that wasn’t your fault either.’
Jack looked at her, his expression inscrutable. ‘And he hasn’t asked you out since?’
‘Well, funnily enough, he rang me this morning,’ Bryony confided, ‘and he’s taking me to dinner at The Peacock on Saturday. Neither of us is on call and Lizzie is sleeping at my mother’s so this time there should be absolutely no interruptions.’
And this time she was going to kiss him.
She’d made up her mind that she was going to kiss him.
She was utterly convinced that kissing another man would cure her obsession with Jack.
David was a good-looking guy. She knew that lots of the nurses lusted after him secretly. He must know how to kiss.
And it was going to happen on Saturday. She was going to invite him in for coffee and she was going to kiss him.
The next day was incredibly busy.
‘It’s the roads,’ Sean said wearily as they snatched a five-minute coffee-break in the middle of a long and intensive shift. ‘They’re so icy and people drive too fast. I predict a nasty pile-up before the end of the evening.’
His prediction proved correct.
At seven o’clock the ambulance hotline rang. Bryony answered it and when she finally put the phone down both Sean and Jack were watching her expectantly.
‘Are you clairvoyant?’ She looked at Sean who shrugged.
‘Black ice. It was inevitable. What are the details?’
‘Twenty-two-year-old female, conscious but shocked and complaining of chest pains.’
She’d barely finished repeating what Ambulance Control had told her when the doors slammed open and the paramedics hurried in with the trolley.
‘Straight into Resus,’ Jack ordered and they transferred the woman onto the trolley as smoothly as possible. While the rest of the team moved quickly into action he questioned the paramedics about the accident.
‘It was a side impact,’ the paramedic told him. ‘She was driving and the other vehicle went straight into her side. Her passenger walked away virtually unharmed. He’s giving her details to Reception now.’
Jack nodded and turned his attention back to the young woman, a frown on his face. ‘She has a neck haematoma. I want a chest X-ray, fast,’ he murmured, and looked at Bryony. ‘Have you got a line in?’
She nodded. ‘One.’
‘Put in another one,’ he ordered, ‘but hold the fluid. And cross-match ten units of blood.’
Bryony’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’
‘Just a feeling. Nicky, I want a BP from both arms,’ he said, gesturing to the staff to stand back while the radiographer took the chest film.
‘Her blood pressure is different in each arm,’ Nicky said quickly, and Jack nodded.
‘I thought it might be. She’s only slightly hypotensive so I want minimal fluid replacement for now.’
Bryony looked at him, waiting for a blonde joke or one of his usual quips that would ease the tension, but this time his eyes were fixed on the patient.
‘Fast-bleep the surgeons,’ he ordered, ‘and let’s take a look at that chest X-ray.’
They walked across to look at the chest X-ray and Bryony looked at him, able to talk now that they were away from the patient. ‘Why did you cross-match so much blood?’
‘Because I think she’s ruptured her aorta.’
Bryony’s eyes widened. ‘But a ruptured aorta has a 90 per cent mortality rate. She’d be dead.’
He squinted at the X-ray. ‘Unless the bleed is contained by the aortic adventitia. Then she’d be alive. But at risk of haemorrhage.’
Bryony stared at the X-ray, too, and Jack lifted an eyebrow.
‘OK, Blondie—impress me. What do you see?’
‘The mediastinum is widened.’
‘And is that significant?’
Bryony chewed her lip and delved into her brain. ‘On its own, possibly not,’ she said, remembering something she’d read, ‘but taken with other factors …’
‘Such as?’
Bryony looked again, determined not to miss anything. ‘The trachea is deviated to the right. The aortic outline is blurred and the aortic knuckle is obliterated.’
‘What else?’
‘It’s cloudy.’ She peered closer at the X-ray. ‘I haven’t seen that before. Is it a haemothorax?’
‘Full marks.’ He gave her a lazy smile but his eyes glittered with admiration. ‘She has a right-sided haemothorax caused by a traumatic rupture of the thoracic aorta, which is currently contained. In this case we can see it clearly on the X-ray, but not always.’
Bryony looked at him and felt her heart thud harder. The patient was lucky to be alive. ‘So what happens now?’
‘She needs urgent surgical repair. In the meantime, we need to give fluid cautiously, otherwise the adventitia could rupture and she’ll have a fatal haemorrhage.’
‘So presumably we also need to give her good pain relief so that her blood pressure doesn’t go up?’
His eyes rested on her shiny blonde hair and he shook his head solemnly. ‘Amazing.’
She poked her tongue out discreetly and he gave her a sexy smile that made her knees wobble.
Fortunately, at that moment the surgeons walked into the room and provided a distraction. They all conferred, agreeing to take the woman to Theatre right away for surgical repair.
‘So what exactly do they do?’ Bryony asked Jack after the woman had been safely handed over to the surgeons and they were left to deal with the debris in Resus.
‘Depends.’ He ripped off his gloves and dropped them into the bin. ‘They’ll attempt a surgical repair.’
‘And if they can’t repair it?’
‘Then they’ll do a vascular graft.’
Bryony helped Nicky to clean the trolley. ‘But what made you suspect an aortic rupture? I always thought patients died at the scene of the accident.’
‘Well, if they’re alive it basically suggests a partial injury,’ he told her. ‘It’s often hard to diagnose on X-ray. A widened mediastinum doesn’t necessarily indicate an abnormality. But in her case there were other classic chest X-ray signs and she had clinical signs too. The neck haematoma, asymmetric BP and chest pain.’
‘And if the X-ray hadn’t been clear?’
‘I would have talked to the consultant radiologist and we would have done a multi-slice CT scan. It’s worth finding out as much as you can about the details of the accident. The paramedic told us her car had been hit on the driver’s side. A significant number of blunt traumatic aortic ruptures are caused by side impact.’
Bryony stared at him in fascination. ‘What’s the pathology?’
‘Basically a sudden deceleration such as a fall from a height or an RTA allows the mobile parts of the aorta to keep moving. It usually tears where the aorta is tethered to the pulmonary vein—’
‘The ligamentum arteriosum,’ Bryony intervened, and he rolled his eyes.
‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a brainy blonde,’ he drawled, and she clucked sympathetically.
‘If I’m threatening your ego then just let me know.’
‘My ego is shivering,’ he assured her, his blue eyes twinkling as looked down at her. ‘What do you get when you give a blonde a penny for her thoughts?’
‘Change,’ Bryony said immediately, tilting her head to one side. ‘Why is a man like a vintage wine?’
Jack’s eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched. ‘Go on …’
‘Because they all start out like grapes,’ Bryony said cheerfully, ‘and it’s a woman’s job to tread all over them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you’d like to have dinner with.’
Nicky gave a snort of amusement from the corner of the room and Jack grinned.
‘That’s shockingly sexist, Blondie.’
‘Just giving as good as I get.’
Jack’s smile faded. ‘And talking about having dinner, haven’t you got a date tomorrow night?’
‘Yes.’ Bryony frowned as she remembered that she had all of three weeks to find a man who might make a good father for Lizzie. By anyone’s standards it was a tall order.
But at least she had another date with David so he must be fairly keen.
And he was a really nice man. Her eyes slid to Jack’s face and then away again. She wasn’t going to compare him to Jack. All right, so Jack was staggeringly handsome and he was clever and he had a great sense of humour—She cut herself off before the list grew too long. Jack didn’t do commitment. And Jack didn’t notice her. Which ruled him out as a potential partner.
At least David noticed her.
And she was going to start noticing him, she told herself firmly, leaving the room so that she wouldn’t be tempted to continually look at Jack.
‘I’m really looking forward to tonight.’ Bryony slid into David’s car and gave him a smile. ‘The food is meant to be great and Lizzie is at my mother’s so we are guaranteed no interruptions.’
David waited while she fastened her seat belt and then pulled out of her drive. ‘Let’s hope not.’
They walked into the restaurant ten minutes later and Bryony gave a gasp of delight as she saw the Christmas tree sparkling by the log fire. ‘Oh—it’s lovely.’
And romantic.
How could she and David fail to further their relationship in this atmosphere? It was made for lovers.
She handed over her coat, feeling David’s eyes slide over her.
‘You look great,’ he said quietly, and she smiled shyly, pleased that she’d bought the red dress she’d seen on a shopping expedition a week earlier.
‘So do you.’
And he did. He was wearing a dark, well-cut suit and she saw several female heads turn towards him as they were shown to their table.
All right, so he didn’t make her knees wobble but that was a good thing surely. With Jack she actually felt physically sick every time he walked into a room, which was utterly ridiculous. She couldn’t concentrate and she couldn’t breathe. All she was aware of was him. And that wasn’t what she wanted in a stable, long-term relationship.
At least being with David didn’t make her feel sick with excitement.
They ordered their food and then David picked up his glass and raised it. ‘To an uninterrupted evening.’
She smiled and lifted her glass in response but before she could speak she gave a gasp of surprise. ‘Oh—it’s Jack!’
David’s jaw tightened and he put his glass carefully down on the table. ‘Jack?’
‘Jack Rothwell. He’s just walked in with some blonde.’
Bryony felt a flash of jealousy as she studied Jack’s companion. She was his usual type. Endless legs, silvery blonde hair and a skirt that barely covered her bottom. She wore a very low-cut top and Bryony glanced at Jack to see signs of disapproval, but he seemed perfectly relaxed, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously as he laughed at something the girl had said.
By contrast, David was glowering, his earlier good humour seemingly gone as he reached for his wine.
‘Well …’ Bryony made a determined effort not to look at Jack and not to mind that he didn’t appear to have noticed her anyway. ‘That’s a coincidence.’
‘Is it?’ David’s eyes glittered ominously and he sat back in his chair as the waiter poured more wine into his glass. ‘Aren’t you beginning to wonder why it is that Jack Rothwell would want to sabotage every date we have?’
‘Sabotage?’ Bryony looked at him in astonishment and gave a puzzled laugh. ‘Jack has nothing to do with the fact that our last two dates haven’t worked out that well.’
‘No?’
‘Well, he’s certainly not sabotaging tonight,’ Bryony said reasonably. ‘I mean, he hasn’t even noticed we’re here. He’s with a woman himself.’
She glanced across the restaurant again and immediately wished she hadn’t. Jack was leaning forward, his attention totally focused on his beautiful companion.
Bryony looked away quickly, trying not to mind. Knowing that she had no right to mind.
And, anyway, she was with David.
But he was looking at her with an odd expression on his face. ‘He knows you’re here,’ he said quietly, ‘and no man could fail to notice you, Bryony.’
She blushed at the compliment. ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, but I can assure you that Jack certainly doesn’t notice me in the way you’re suggesting.’
In fact, he didn’t seem to notice her as a woman at all. Until she wore something that he disapproved of, she thought gloomily. Goodness knew how he would have reacted had she been the one dressed like his date. He probably would have had her locked up. But evidently the girl staring into his eyes at that precise moment was allowed to dress however she pleased.
Realising that she was staring again, Bryony turned her attention back to David but the atmosphere had changed. She made a valiant attempt to keep up lively conversation but it seemed like hard work.
In the end they ate their starter in virtual silence and Bryony’s gaze flickered surreptitiously to Jack yet again.
Immediately their eyes locked and she swallowed hard, aware that he must have been looking at her.
His eyes held hers and everything and everyone else in the room gradually faded into the background. For Bryony there was just Jack and he seemed as reluctant to break the contact as she was.
Her heart banged against her ribs with rhythmic force and the sick feeling started in her stomach.
And still Jack’s eyes held hers.
They might have stared at each other for ever if the waiter hadn’t chosen that moment to deliver their next course, walking across their line of vision.
Staring down at her plate, Bryony realised that suddenly she wasn’t hungry any more. Her insides felt totally jumbled up.
Why had Jack been staring at her like that?
Did he disapprove of her seeing David? Did he think that she was dating the wrong man?
She pushed her food around her plate, miserably aware that David had finished his main course and was now watching her in silence.
Finally he spoke. ‘You don’t seem hungry.’
‘Not very.’ She put her fork down and smiled at him apologetically. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
She bit her lip, embarrassed that the evening was going so badly. ‘I’m just a bit tired—it’s been a pretty busy week.’
‘Do you want to go home?’
She hesitated and then nodded. ‘Yes. If that’s all right with you.’
‘Shall we have coffee first?’
She remembered her resolution to kiss him. ‘No,’ she croaked. ‘Let’s have coffee at my house.’
He looked at her thoughtfully and seemed to relax slightly. Then he nodded and rose to his feet. ‘Good idea. Come on. I’ll settle the bill while they get our coats.’
‘If you’ve finished, I’ll take her home.’ Jack’s deep voice came from right beside her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘It’s on my way.’
The two men stared at each other with ill-disguised hostility.
‘She’s my date,’ David said tightly, and Jack smiled.
‘You’ve had your date,’ he drawled softly, ‘and now I’m taking her home.’
Realising that everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, Bryony flushed scarlet and tugged Jack’s arm.
‘For goodness’ sake, Jack! Everyone’s looking at us.’
Jack gave a dismissive shrug that indicated just how little he was bothered by other people’s opinions and then he smiled as his date for the evening joined them. ‘Nina, this is David. He’s offered to take you home.’
Nina gave Jack a longing look that left no one in any doubt as to how she felt about him. And then she sighed and shot David a dazzling smile. ‘If you’re sure it’s no trouble …’
Wondering why Nina was giving up so easily, Bryony watched as David’s eyes dropped to the neckline of Nina’s dress which revealed a hypnotic amount of female flesh.
He stared in blatant fascination and then finally cleared his throat and dragged his gaze up to Nina’s. ‘It’s no trouble at all,’ he said hoarsely and Bryony resisted the temptation to scream with frustration.
Men were just so pathetic!
Boiling with anger, she said goodnight to David and Nina and followed Jack across the car park.
He unlocked the car and opened the door for her and she slid inside and yanked at the seat belt.
As Jack settled himself in the driver’s seat, she let rip.
‘David was my date! You had no right to interfere.’
Jack reversed out of his parking space. ‘I merely offered to take you home.’
‘You didn’t offer, Jack,’ she said caustically, ‘you insisted. David was taking me home and he was ready to argue until your Nina thrust her chest in his face.’
Jack grinned, maddeningly unperturbed by her outburst. ‘impressive, isn’t she? I thought as I was taking you away from him, I ought to offer him something in compensation.’
‘So I suppose she was the booby prize?’ Bryony’s voice dripped sarcasm and Jack’s grin widened.
‘Booby prize.’ He repeated her words and chuckled with appreciation. ‘I admit I hadn’t thought of it in exactly those terms, but now you mention it …’
Bryony ground her teeth in frustration. ‘You are so hypocritical, do you know that? You have the nerve to criticise my black dress and then you go out with a girl who has a cleavage the size of the Grand Canyon and shows it off to the entire population. I didn’t notice you covering her up with a coat.’
Jack glanced across at her and in the semi-darkness she could see his eyes twinkling wickedly. ‘It would have had to be a big coat and it seemed a shame to deprive everyone of the view,’ he drawled, and she felt fury mix with a very different emotion.
Hurt.
When Nina wore a low-cut dress, Jack obviously thought she looked incredibly attractive. But when she
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