Книга - The Doctor’s Baby Bombshell

The Doctor's Baby Bombshell
Jennifer Taylor


From top-notch doc to daddy-to-be! Gorgeous doctor Ben Nicholls might be the heart-throb of Dalverston General A&E, but he locked up his heart and threw away the key the day he watched Dr Zoë Frost walk away from him.Two years later, Zoë makes a fleeting visit back into town. The attraction between them is as irresistible as ever, and they spend one incredible night together. Zoë doesn’t believe in happy-ever-afters, but what she does know for sure is that now she must face Ben and tell him she is pregnant with his baby…







‘Are you pregnant, Zoë?’



The question caught her off-guard. Her eyes flew to his face, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was deliberately masking his feelings, and the thought made her shiver—because the Ben she remembered would never have been so guarded around her; she would have known immediately how he was feeling.



She half rose, but Ben was too quick for her. He caught her hand. ‘I’m not letting you run away without answering my question. You’re having my baby, aren’t you, Zoë? Why else would you have come here to see me?’



Raising her head, she looked him in the eyes. ‘Yes, I’m pregnant.’



After a momentary pause, Ben gave her one of his trademark grins. ‘I may be shocked to learn that I’m about to become a father, but I’m pleased too. I’ve never made any secret of the fact that I want kids—although I rather hoped I’d have a wife before they came along…


Jennifer Taylor lives in the north-west of England, in a small village surrounded by some really beautiful countryside. She has written for several different Mills & Boon


series in the past, but it wasn’t until she read her first Medical™ Romance that she truly found her niche. She was so captivated by these heartwarming stories that she set out to write them herself!



When she’s not writing, or doing research for her latest book, Jennifer’s hobbies include reading, gardening, travel, and chatting to friends both on and off-line. She is always delighted to hear from readers, so do visit her website at www.jennifer-taylor.com



Recent titles by the same author:



THE GP’S MEANT-TO-BE BRIDE*

MARRYING THE RUNAWAY BRIDE*

THE SURGEON’S FATHERHOOD SURPRISE**

THEIR LITTLE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE



*Dalverston Weddings **Brides of Penhally Bay



Dear Reader



I always knew that the third book in my DalverstonWeddings series would be the most difficult to write. Not only did I feel a very special bond with Ben and Zoë, so wanted to do them justice, but I was aware that I was going to give them an extremely tough time.



When best man Ben Nicholls discovers that his ex- girlfriend Zoë Frost is to attend the wedding, he is stunned. He has spent the past two years trying to forget about her, yet as soon as he sees her again all the old feelings resurface. When Zoë agrees to spend one last night with him, Ben is certain that it will help him to draw a line under the past.



When Zoë tells Ben a few months later that he is to be a father, he is both shocked and elated. However, it isn’t the only thing that Zoë needs to tell him. There is something else—something that rocks his world. All Ben knows is that he intends to be there for Zoë and their baby, no matter what happens.



Helping Ben and Zoë deal with such life-changing issues was a challenge. I cried with them during the tough times and laughed with them during the good—it was a real emotional roller coaster. I hope you enjoy this book, and that you will feel at the end of it, as I did, that this couple truly deserve a lifetime of happiness together.



Best wishes



Jennifer




THE DOCTOR’S BABY BOMBSHELL


BY

JENNIFER TAYLOR




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For The Wedding Party: Vicky and Jamie,

Kathy, Carl, Pauline, John, Nigel, Neil, Mark, Mel.

And last but never least, Bill.

Thank you all for an unforgettable day.


CHAPTER ONE

December



SHE shouldn’t have come. It was all very well thinking that she was ready to face Ben while there were hundreds of miles separating them, but now that she was here, she was no longer as confident. Could she really see Ben again, talk to him, and not allow her resolve to weaken?

Zoë Frost could feel her stomach churning with nerves as the taxi drew up outside the hotel. When she had received the invitation to Ross and Heather’s wedding, she had dismissed the idea of attending. After all, when she had left Dalverston two years ago, she had sworn she would never go back. Nevertheless, as the weeks had passed, bringing the day ever closer, she had felt increasingly torn.

There were very few people to whom she was close. It had been her decision not to form attachments, neither romantic ones nor those of friendship. In her experience people invariably let you down and it was easier to keep your distance. However, Ross and Heather had proved themselves to be true friends. They had always been there for her and had never taken offence when she had brushed them off, as she’d so frequently done in the past. How could she not attend their wedding given those facts? Maybe it would be hard to see Ben again, but she owed it to them to be there when they got married.

‘This is your hotel, miss.’

Zoë jumped when the taxi driver reminded her that he was waiting for her to alight. Hunting in her black leather bag, she drew out her purse and paid him, fumbling a little as she added a generous tip to the fare. She’d been living in Paris for the past two years and her brain hadn’t caught up with the change of currency on the short flight back to England.

A porter came out of the hotel to collect her luggage and she tipped him as well, smiling wryly as she realised how used she’d grown to dealing with such matters. The time she’d spent in Paris had changed her, smoothed away the rough edges. On the outside at least she was no longer the gauche, inexperienced girl from the care home, but a woman who had learned how to blend in with the highest levels of society. The thought was a welcome boost to her confidence.

Zoë checked in and went upstairs to her room. It was a beautiful room but then she had made a point of booking one with a view over the countryside. Although she loved Paris, she had missed all this, missed the space, the light, the majesty of the hills that towered over the town. Opening the window, she breathed deeply, letting the cold December air flow into her lungs. Coming back to Dalverston was like coming home, she thought, then quickly dismissed the idea. It was too dangerous to think like that, too emotive, and if there was one thing she needed more than anything today it was to keep control of her emotions. She wouldn’t be able to cope when she saw Ben if she didn’t.

Once again Zoë felt the stirring of doubt but she brushed it aside. Opening her case, she took out the chic honey-gold wool suit she had chosen to wear for the occasion. There was an ivory silk blouse to go with it plus a pair of wickedly high-heeled shoes that added several inches to her not-inconsiderable height. The outfit had cost a small fortune but it would be worth it if it helped her project the right image, that of a woman in control. How she felt inside was her business. She didn’t intend to let anyone know how nervous she felt. She shot a glance at the clock on the bedside table and felt her heart surge. In just under an hour’s time she would see Ben.



Ben parked his car in the hotel’s car park. Opening the door of the sleek little convertible, he eased his legs out from under the wheel, sighing when he saw the mud that was caked on the knees of his jeans. He really should have changed before he’d come here. Normally, he would have done so, but he wasn’t firing on all cylinders today and was it any wonder?

When he’d seen Zoë’s name on that guest list Ross had given him that morning, he’d had the devil of a job hiding his shock. He had never expected her to attend the wedding even though he knew that Heather and Ross were her closest friends. He had assumed that she would make some excuse, but obviously not. Why had she decided to come? he wondered. Was it just because she wanted to see her friends get married or was there another reason, one that had something to do with him?

Ben swore under his breath as he made his way into the hotel. Zoë had made her feelings perfectly clear two years ago and it was madness to imagine that she’d changed her mind. He wouldn’t want her to either. He’d learned a valuable lesson when she’d left him and he had no intention of placing himself in the position of having his heart trampled on a second time. Maybe he had believed in love once upon a time but he didn’t believe in it now. Zoë had cured him of that kind of misty-eyed thinking!

Walking over to the reception desk, Ben joined the queue and waited his turn to speak to the receptionist. There were a lot of people milling about and he guessed that most of them were wedding guests too. He sighed. A lot of folk were going to be upset by what had happened.

The lift bell pinged as the lift arrived at the ground floor and Ben automatically glanced round, then felt his breath catch when he saw the woman who alighted. Tall and slender, with her red-gold hair pulled smoothly back from her face, she drew many admiring glances. Ben knew that he was staring at her, but he couldn’t help it. She looked exactly the same in many ways and yet so very different in others.

He took rapid stock, trying to work out what had changed. There was no doubt that the honey-coloured suit she was wearing was expensive. The cut of the fabric hinted at expert tailoring of a type rarely seen in chain-store clothing. Her shoes—the sexiest pair of shoes he had ever seen with those wickedly high heels—also betrayed their pedigree, as did the matching bag that swung from her hand. She looked so cool, so poised, so sophisticated that Ben felt pain stab through his heart. Obviously, Zoë had lost no time encasing herself in yet another protective layer.

She was halfway across the foyer when she spotted him. Ben took a deep breath when he saw her stop and got a grip of himself. He had come here to break the news to her and the sooner he got it over with, the better. Stepping out of the queue, he headed towards her, fixing his most urbane smile into place as he drew closer. He may have loved Zoë once but that was all in the past. Their relationship was history now and he’d moved on…

Hadn’t he?

Ben clamped down on that thought as he greeted her. ‘Hello, Zoë. How are you? Although I doubt if I need to ask that when you’re looking so stunning.’

His tone was playful, the one he used whenever he was around any attractive woman. Most seemed to enjoy the hint of flirtatiousness in his voice, the suggestion that there might be something more to come, although Zoë obviously didn’t appreciate it.

‘I’m very well, thank you, Ben. How are you?’

Her deep grey eyes looked dispassionately back at him but Ben held his smile, determined not to let her see how discomfited he felt. ‘Great. Or as great as I can be in the circumstances.’

‘That sounds very cryptic.’ One elegant brow arched as she looked at him and Ben sighed. He was here to deliver a message, not to pander to his ego by playing silly games.

‘I didn’t intend it to. Sorry. I’m afraid I have some rather bad news, Zoë.’ Glancing around, he spotted a couple of chairs in an alcove by the window and nodded towards them. ‘Let’s sit down over there, shall we?’

Zoë looked sharply at him but she didn’t demur. Walking over to the chairs, she sat down, smoothing her skirt over her knees. Ben caught a tantalising glimpse of her elegant legs encased in whisper-fine stockings and hastily averted his eyes. Zoë had always hated going out with bare legs—she preferred to wear stockings instead. He’d watched her put them on many times and enjoyed the experience too.

He gritted his teeth as an image of her drawing the fine silk over her shapely calves flashed into his head. This was dangerous territory and he refused to go there, especially today.

‘What’s this all about, Ben? What sort of bad news do you have to tell me?’

Her tone was sharp; it cut through his thoughts and helped him focus. Leaning forward, he fixed her with a level look. ‘The wedding has been called off.’

‘Called off?’ She stared at him in disbelief. ‘If this is a joke, Ben, I really don’t appreciate it.’

She went to rise but he caught hold of her hand and stopped her. ‘It isn’t a joke, Zoë. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.’

She had the grace to look momentarily uncomfortable before she rallied. Sinking back down onto the chair, she eased her hand out of his grasp. ‘I apologise. So tell me what’s happened.’

Ben shrugged, needing a little more time to regain his own composure. The feel of her slender fingers had released a whole raft of emotions he hadn’t been prepared for. If he’d moved on, as he’d thought, why was his heart thumping as though it was trying to leap out of his chest? He’d held her hand, for heaven’s sake, not made mad, passionate love to her!

‘Heather called it off,’ he explained, closing his mind to any more foolish ideas of that nature. He refused to torment himself by recalling how good it had been when he and Zoë had made love. ‘She told Ross that she’d decided it would be a mistake if they got married.’

‘A mistake?’ Zoë’s brow wrinkled. ‘But they’re perfect for each other. Anyone can see that.’

‘Well, apparently, anyone would be wrong.’ Ben sighed when he saw her face close up. ‘I don’t mean to sound facetious but I was as stunned as you are when Ross told me. In fact, I’m still trying to take it in. I was all geared up to do my best man bit when I woke up this morning, but it seems my services won’t be needed after all.’

‘Is that why you’re dressed like that?’ Zoë glanced down at his jeans, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she took stock of the crust of mud that adorned them, and he chuckled.

‘It wasn’t a deliberate choice because I was peeved about not getting to read my speech, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

A tiny smile twitched the corners of her beautiful mouth. ‘I’m glad to hear it. It would seem a little extreme.’

Her eyes rose to his and his breath caught when he saw the warmth they held. It had been so long since Zoë had looked at him this way. In the last painful weeks of their relationship all they’d done was argue. There’d been no warmth then, no fun, no closeness, just a determination on both sides to get their own way. All of a sudden Ben regretted how he’d behaved, regretted pushing her to accept how he’d felt. No wonder she had run away when he’d put her under so much pressure. Maybe he had loved her desperately but he should have tried to win her round in a different way.

Regrets tumbled around inside his head but it was too late for them now. At least he and Zoë were on speaking terms and that was something. ‘I ended up getting called out to an incident at the canal,’ he explained, hoping to solder their fragile truce. If there was one thing that Zoë truly cared about it was work— his job, her job, anything to do with medicine. ‘In fact, Ross went along as well, and the rest of the guys from the surgery. That accounts for my current less than sartorial look. It was extremely mucky down there.’

‘Good heavens!’ Zoë leant forward and he could see the interest in her eyes. ‘It must have been a major incident if Ambulance Control drafted in so many extra people.’

‘It was, although normally the rapid response unit would have had it covered,’ he explained, responding to her enthusiasm. One of the best things about their relationship had been the fact that they’d shared a love of emergency medicine. They’d spent a lot of their time discussing the cases they’d seen, although now that he thought about it, Ben wondered if it was normal for a couple to spend so much time talking about work. Had it been a way to paper over the cracks in their relationship, perhaps?

‘Why weren’t they able to deal with it today?’ Zoë asked curiously.

Ben pushed the thought aside. In truth, it shouldn’t have bothered him and the fact that it did had him hurrying on. ‘Most of the emergency response vehicles are out of commission at the moment. There’s a problem with the fuel supply, apparently. That’s why the surgery was contacted, and how Ross and I ended up helping out. It certainly wasn’t what we had planned for today.’

‘No, of course not.’ Zoë sighed. ‘Poor Ross, he must be devastated. And Heather too. She couldn’t have taken such a decision lightly.’

‘I don’t imagine so,’ Ben concurred, wondering if he should explain that Ross hadn’t appeared to be that cut up about what had happened. In the end, he decided not to say anything. People responded differently and who was he to judge?

‘What’s happening about the guests?’ Zoë frowned as she looked around the foyer. ‘I expect a lot of them are staying here. Do they all know that the wedding has been called off?’

‘I did my best to let everyone know, but I wasn’t all that successful, unfortunately.’ He saw the question in her eyes and continued. ‘Ross gave me the guest list and asked if I’d do the honours. I got in touch with as many people as I could, but some had already left home by the time I phoned. Ross has arranged for the vicar to meet any who slipped through the net when they turn up at the church.’

‘What a mess!’ Zoë exclaimed. ‘It’s going to cause a real stir, isn’t it? I’d hate to be in Ross’s or Heather’s shoes for the next few weeks.’

‘It won’t hit Heather as hard. She’s gone to London— caught the train last night, I believe. At least she’ll be spared a lot of the flak.’

‘I see.’ Zoë gave a little sigh and then stood up. ‘Well, thanks for letting me know what’s happened, Ben. It’s a real shame, but if it wasn’t going to work, it’s probably best that Heather called things off.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Ben agreed, feeling something akin to panic grip him. Was that it? Was Zoë going to bid him goodbye and leave? There was nothing to keep her here now, nothing and no one.

That thought stung more than it should have done and it annoyed him too. He was over Zoë and he refused to let her influence his life in any way, shape or form. He stood up as well, a polite little smile curving his mouth, a smile that was guaranteed to convince her that he was well and truly over her. ‘When are you flying back to Paris?’

‘Tomorrow lunchtime.’ She glanced at her watch and grimaced. ‘I’ve got hours to kill now, unless I can re-book onto an earlier flight.’

‘Sounds like a lot of hassle to me,’ he said lightly. ‘Why don’t you stick to your original plan and enjoy a day here instead?’

‘Doing what?’ She glanced down at the elegant suit that clung to every delicious curve of her body. ‘I didn’t exactly come equipped for a weekend in the country.’

‘I could lend you some stuff.’ He managed a couldn’t-careless smile when she looked at him, although he was as surprised as she was that he’d made the suggestion. ‘All you need is a pair of jeans, a sweater and a jacket,’ he continued because there was no way he could stop now he’d begun. ‘And you’re ready for anything.’

‘Such as what?’ she demanded with a touch of challenge in her voice.

‘Oh, I don’t know…how about a hike up into the hills to get some fresh air?’

He glanced out of the window, using the moment to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t planned on spending any time with Zoë while she was here, but wouldn’t it prove, once and for all, that he was over her? Ever since he’d seen her name on that guest list he’d felt uneasy and he hated feeling that he wasn’t in control. Zoë had hurt him badly, destroyed his faith in love and commitment, all the givens he’d once believed in. He may appear the same old Ben on the outside, always up for some fun and ready to enjoy a joke, but inside he was a completely different person.

He no longer believed that love could conquer any obstacle. He no longer believed that two people were meant to be together. When Zoë had left him, turned her back on him and his love, she had destroyed all those certainties he had taken for granted. He would never love anyone the way he had loved Zoë. He would never allow himself to love that deeply again.

‘It is a gorgeous day,’ she said wistfully, and he glanced back at her.

‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her gaze lifted to his and he saw her mentally raise the barriers. ‘I didn’t plan on spending any time with you, Ben.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t.’ He ignored the jibe, didn’t even flinch when the arrow pierced his skin. He knew how she felt, that she didn’t want him and never would. Zoë didn’t do commitment. She didn’t do love and marriage and happy-ever-after, and he had accepted that. However, this time with her could be just what he needed to lay the past to rest.

‘I didn’t plan on spending time with you either, Zoë, but neither of us could have foretold what was going to happen. Why don’t we make the best of a bad job?’

His tone was calm and it seemed to work. He saw her relax and carried on, inwardly smiling. He had women falling at his feet, women eager to spend days—and nights!—with him but he didn’t want any of them at the moment. He wanted these few hours with Zoë to prove he could cope without her.

‘We’re both at a loose end this afternoon and we can fill in the time by having a walk, maybe even have dinner later if we’re not too knackered by then.’ He shrugged, a gesture that reeked of indifference even though he wanted this very much. ‘At least the weekend won’t have been a complete loss, will it? So what do you say, Zoë? It’s up to you.’


CHAPTER TWO

THEY drove to Capper’s Fell and parked in a lay-by. Zoë got out of the car, trying not to think about the last time they’d been there. There was no point looking back when she wouldn’t have done things any differently. She didn’t want to get married, didn’t want children, didn’t want to spend her life with Ben or anyone else. She had seen the damage love could do, suffered because of it, and she didn’t intend to give anyone that much power over her.

‘I thought we could walk to the top and down the far side if you’re up to it,’ Ben announced as he joined her and she nodded.

‘Fine by me.’

‘Sure you can manage in those boots? They are a little on the large side for you.’

He crouched down and began tugging at the laces of her borrowed boots. One of his sisters had left them at his house, he’d explained, and although they were half a size too big, Zoë had assured him they would be fine. Now she found herself wishing that she’d told him they had fitted perfectly. At least then she wouldn’t have had to suffer in silence as his fingers gently prodded her toes.

Heat flashed along her veins and she shifted her feet, wanting to make him stop. She could cope so long as Ben didn’t touch her, didn’t make her remember all the other occasions when his hands had caressed her. He’d been such a passionate lover, showing her with his hands and his mouth how much he had wanted her. Zoë had tried to hold something of herself back, to not respond so fully, so completely, but she’d never succeeded. When Ben had made love to her, she had given him everything—her heart, her mind and her soul. And that’s what had scared her most of all. She had no control when she was in Ben’s arms.

‘They’re perfectly adequate for the amount of walking we’re going to be doing today,’ she said briskly, moving away.

‘Good.’

He didn’t react to her brusqueness as he straightened and contrarily Zoë wished he had done so. At least she would have had an outlet for her feelings if they’d had one of their rows.

She sighed as she followed him to the stile. Was that what she really wanted, to fight with him like she’d done in the last weeks they’d been together? Every day had been a battle, every minute they’d spent together so full of tension that she’d felt sick all the time. Ben had wanted her to give in and accept that they could be happy together for ever and ever, but she’d known it wouldn’t work.

Love might seem endless in the beginning but it didn’t last. Once passion faded, interest waned, and that was when the problems began. Even though she’d been only ten when her parents had divorced, she’d endured years of anguish beforehand as she’d watched her mother and father tearing themselves and each other apart.

It had been a relief when she’d been taken into care after her mother had suffered a breakdown following the divorce. By that time her father had left England and made a new life for himself in Australia; he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of caring for a ten-year-old child. The social workers had tried to explain it to her as gently as possible but Zoë had understood: her father didn’t want her.

Life in the children’s home had been bleak but at least there’d been nobody there she had cared about, and nobody who had cared about her either. She’d been freed from the emotional trauma of watching the people she loved destroy their lives. Her mother had never fully recovered from her breakdown and had been deemed too fragile to take care of her so Zoë had stayed in the home until she was sixteen when she had moved into a hostel. They exchanged Christmas and birthday cards but that was all. Their relationship had ended a long time ago.

‘Careful! It’s very slippery on this side. Here, take my hand.’

Ben grasped her hand as she climbed over the first bit of the stile and Zoë managed not to pull away, but her reluctance to let him help her must have shown. His mouth thinned but once again he didn’t say anything and it surprised her. Was Ben afraid of causing a row? she wondered. He must be as aware as she was of how fragile their truce really was.

The thought helped her put everything into perspective. Zoë realised that she had to do her bit to make the day as stress-free as possible for both of them. She nodded her thanks as she alighted from the stile, feeling her heart catch when Ben smiled at her. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve in the past where she’d been concerned. He’d never been able to hide how much he had loved her and it had made her own reserve all the more marked. However, she’d been afraid to lower her guard, apart from when they had made love.

How did he feel about her now? Although his smile seemed genuine enough, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and it troubled her. The old Ben had been so open about his feelings and she hated to think that he had changed so much. She might not be capable of giving herself to him but it didn’t mean she didn’t care about him.

They were halfway up the hill when Ben suddenly stopped. Zoë just managed to stop as well before she cannoned into him. She frowned when she saw him turn and look over to their left.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I thought I heard something—a moan or a shout, I’m not sure.’

He shrugged, his handsome face looking unusually stern as he stared across the open countryside. Zoë realised with a start how much older he looked than the last time she’d seen him. There were lines around his hazel eyes that definitely hadn’t been there two years ago and silver threads laced through his dark brown hair. Even the contours of his face had changed. He’d always been an extremely handsome man, and he still was, but there was a new austerity about his features, an authority that merely added to his appeal. At thirty-four years of age, Ben was in his prime and he looked it too.

A shiver ran down her spine as her brain logged all the small but significant changes. It was an effort to focus on the present but she couldn’t afford not to. There was no future for her and Ben—there never had been.

‘Do you think someone’s in trouble?’ she asked, deliberately removing any trace of emotion from her voice.

‘It could have been a bird, I suppose…’

‘But you don’t think so?’ she finished for him and he sighed.

‘No. I’m ninety per cent certain that I heard someone calling and that it came from over there.’

‘So what do you want to do?’

‘I don’t think we have much choice. We’ll have to take a look.’

Zoë followed as he turned off the main path. They had to walk in single file because the track was so narrow. It was lined on both sides with prickly bushes which snagged their trousers as they forced a way through them.

‘This must be a sheep track,’ Ben called over his shoulder.

‘Pity the poor sheep if they have to wriggle through all these thorns,’ Zoë retorted, and he chuckled.

‘I imagine it’s a bit different to strolling down the Champs Elysées.’

‘It certainly is. You might get jostled about on the pavement there but you definitely don’t have to pick thorns out of your flesh when you get home,’ she replied, and he laughed again, a rich deep sound that made her skin tingle.

It took them a good five minutes to reach the spot Ben had pointed out but there was nobody in sight. He sighed as he stared around. ‘Looks like I’ve brought you on a wild-goose chase. Sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she began then broke off when she heard a low moan. ‘There is someone here!’ she exclaimed, trying to locate from where the sound had come. It came again and she pointed towards a huge spiky bush off to their right. ‘There!’

Ben hurried forwards, the wicked-looking thorns tearing at his hands as he parted the branches. ‘It’s a child! I’ll see if I can get her out.’

‘Here, let me help you.’

Zoë forced her way through the undergrowth, wincing as the thorns dug into her. She could see the child now lying right in the very centre of the bush. Heaven only knew how she had got in there but that wasn’t nearly as important as getting her out. Dragging the sleeves of the borrowed jacket over her hands to protect them, she pulled the branches apart until there was a big enough gap for Ben to reach in and lift the child out. He carried her to a clearing and laid her on the ground then stripped off his jacket and covered her with it. Zoë knelt down and checked her pulse.

‘Pulse is slow but at least there is one.’ She laid her hand on the child’s forehead and grimaced. ‘She’s very cold. I don’t know how long she’s been out here but it looks like hypothermia to me.’

‘We need to get her to hospital.’ Ben looked back the way they had come. ‘The quickest way is to carry her back to the car and drive her there. We can’t afford to wait around for an ambulance in view of the problems they’re having at the moment. We’ll check her over first just to be on the safe side, but we don’t want to delay too long.’

They worked together, performing a rapid but thorough examination. Zoë would have liked some basic equipment to work with but as it wasn’t available, she got on with the job as best she could. She rattled out her findings as she went so that Ben could check they hadn’t missed anything.

‘Skin is very pale and her face looks puffy. Breathing is slow and quite shallow, too.’

Ben had slid his hand under the child’s sweater and was feeling her armpit. ‘Very cold under the arms so hypothermia is fairly advanced.’ He tested the little girl’s limbs next. ‘No sign of fractures—can you check her spine?’

‘That seems fine,’ Zoë told him a moment later.

‘Good. It should be safe enough to move her.’ He felt in his jacket pocket and pulled out a woollen hat which he placed on the child’s head to help conserve any remaining body heat. ‘That’s the best we can do for now. Let’s get her to hospital.’

He picked up the child and headed back along the track. Zoë followed him, wishing there was something she could do to help. It wasn’t easy forging a way through the bushes when he was so hampered but it was impossible to walk alongside him and assist in any way.

‘This is so frustrating,’ she grumbled as she trotted along at his heels. ‘I should be helping you instead of acting like a spare part!’

‘Your turn will come,’ he told her and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Why do I get the feeling that my turn might not be all that pleasant?’ she demanded. ‘Exactly what do you have in mind?’

‘Ah, that would be telling. And there is no way that I want to scare you off. I need you, Zoë Frost, and I don’t intend to let you get away from me!’

Ben grimaced, hoping Zoë wouldn’t take his comment the wrong way. He breathed a sigh of relief when she laughed. He really mustn’t go looking for hidden meanings, he told himself as they rejoined the main path, and definitely not allow himself to wonder if Zoë was looking for them too. Zoë wasn’t his girlfriend any longer. She wasn’t going to be a part of his life either. Once today was over, he probably wouldn’t see her again.

The thought caused a funny sensation in the pit of his stomach but Ben ignored it. They had reached the stile and he waited while Zoë scrambled over to the other side then passed the child across to her.

‘It’s OK, I’ve got her,’ she told him when he went to take the little girl back and he nodded. It didn’t matter to him if she preferred to struggle rather than accept his help. He knew how independent she was and if it made her feel better, who was he to object?

Unlocking the car, he hunkered down and slid the driver’s seat forward as far as it would go. There was a tiny bench seat in the back—so small that he used it merely to stow his coat. However, it would be needed for a different purpose today. ‘Can you climb into the back? I know it’s going to be a tight squeeze but I want to lay her on the front seat. I can lower the back to make it more comfortable for her if you could hunch up.’

Zoë shot a wry glance into the back of the car. ‘So this is what you meant about my turn. I’m going to have to perform some contortions, am I?’

Ben grinned. ‘It’s either you or me, and I honestly don’t think I can get in there. I’d need a shoehorn to fit into that minuscule space!’

‘Either that or a bucket of grease,’ she retorted, handing him the child before doubling up and scrambling into the back of the car. Ben had a tantalising glimpse of her shapely bottom then she was in, wriggling herself into the corner to allow for the passenger seat to be reclined.

He drove the enticing image from his head as he gently laid the little girl on the passenger seat and adjusted the back until she was lying almost flat. He fastened the seat belt across her then handed Zoë his mobile phone.

‘Can you call the emergency services and tell them what’s happened? No doubt there’s some frantic parents looking for this little one and the sooner they know she’s been found, the better.’ He closed the door and strode round to the driver’s side, grunting as he squeezed behind the steering-wheel. ‘I only hope I can change gear with my knees tucked under my chin.’

‘We can always trade places,’ Zoë suggested sweetly and he chuckled.

‘No way! I could do myself permanent damage if I got in there.’

He pulled out of the lay-by, leaving Zoë to inform everyone about what had happened. He could hear her talking on the phone, her voice sounding cool and crisp as she relayed the information. She had a lot more confidence than she’d had two years ago, he realised. Although she’d always been very self- assured in her dealings with her patients, she’d been more reticent when it had come to speaking to people in authority. Obviously, the time she’d spent in Paris had brought about changes in her attitude as well as in her appearance and Ben couldn’t help wondering if it was all down to Zoë herself or to other forces.

Had Zoë met someone there, a man who had shown her how to dress to make the most of herself, taught her to feel as confident as she was beautiful? The idea didn’t sit easily with him even though it had nothing to do with him if it turned out to be true. Zoë didn’t need him as her mentor or her lover.



The child’s name was Megan Turner. She was four years old and had been visiting her grandparents who had a farm in the area when she had wandered off. Her parents met them at the hospital, overjoyed that she had been found. Ben explained his suspicions that Megan was suffering from hypothermia but he didn’t waste time. It was more important that Megan receive the appropriate treatment.

‘I don’t think she’s bad enough to warrant controlled warming but can you alert PICU just in case?’ he instructed as he shouldered open the doors to Resus. He placed Megan on a bed then glanced at the two nurses and junior doctor who had followed him in. ‘Can you take her temperature, Abby—use a rectal thermometer, please. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Jo, I want you to fill the bath with warm water and, Adam, I want you to monitor her breathing and pulse rate. Any fluctuation— and I do mean any—I want to be informed immediately.’

Everyone nodded and set to work. Zoë watched them, enjoying the way they all seemed to know exactly what was expected of them. It was typical of Ben to make his instructions crystal clear. He hated mistakes being made and did everything possible to avoid them. She’d learned such a lot from him when they had worked together…

And learned even more when they were away from work, a small voice whispered inside her head.

‘Want to give me a hand?’

Zoë started when Ben turned to her, feeling the colour rush up her face as she prayed that he didn’t have any inkling about what she’d been thinking. ‘Of course. What do you want me to do?’

‘Check her response to both noise and light.’ He lowered his voice. ‘She hasn’t opened her eyes or spoken since we found her but I don’t think she’s unconscious, just exhausted and very frightened. I want to do the absolute minimum to guarantee her well-being rather than rush in with all guns blazing.’

Zoë nodded, understanding why he preferred that approach. Although the dramatic scenes that were the staple of so many medical soap operas made excellent viewing, a patient’s needs were better served if treatment was kept as minimal as possible. She took a penlight out of its holder and gently peeled back the little girl’s eyelids while she shone the light into her eyes. There was an immediate response and she glanced at Ben.

‘Both eyes reacting positively to light.’

‘Good.’

Ben’s tone was abstracted as he bent over the child, but Zoë didn’t doubt that he had taken her findings on board. She replaced the light in its holder and picked up a pair of plastic forceps which she rapped on the metal bedframe. Little Megan visibly jumped, confirming Ben’s suspicions that she wasn’t comatose. It was an encouraging finding and Zoë felt her spirits lift.

‘Her temperature is 35C, Ben,’ one of the nurses called and Ben nodded.

‘That means she’s borderline and that, hopefully, we’ve caught her in time. We’ll go straight to the warm bath and get her temperature up that way. Let’s get these clothes off her but leave the hat on.’

Ben immediately set to and helped as the nurses began stripping off the child’s clothes. Although most consultants shied away from such menial tasks, Ben never flinched when it came to practicalities. If a job needed doing, he was willing to do it himself and didn’t expect everyone to dance attendance on him. Zoë had always admired him for that and discovered that she still admired him for it now, although he possessed so many positive attributes it was hard to pick out one from all the others.

The thought was disquieting bearing in mind that she had no intention of searching out things to admire about him. She followed as Ben picked up little Megan and carried her to the bath. He placed her carefully in the warm water, making sure the whole of her body was immersed apart from her head. The little girl whimpered and opened her eyes and he smiled at her.

‘It’s all right, poppet. We’re just going to make you feel all warm again.’

Zoë felt her eyes fill with tears when she heard the tenderness in his voice. Although Ben was marvellous with all the patients, he was particularly good with any children. He would make the most wonderful father one day and the thought hurt far more than it should have done. She had made up her mind a long time ago that she didn’t want children and she wasn’t going to change it, not now, not ever.

She took a deep breath and used it to shore up her emotions. She would never be the mother of Ben’s children.


CHAPTER THREE

‘MEGAN is going to be fine. She’s very tired at the moment, which is only to be expected after what’s happened, but we don’t anticipate any problems.’ Ben smiled at the child’s anxious parents. ‘She’ll be going up to the children’s ward as soon as a bed is available. We’ll keep her in overnight but it’s purely a precaution. You should be able to take her home tomorrow.’

Mr and Mrs Turner thanked him profusely and hurried back to their daughter. Ben sighed as he watched them go. ‘I can’t imagine what they must have been through, can you? Losing a child must be every parent’s nightmare.’

He glanced round when Zoë failed to answer and was surprised when he saw how upset she looked. It was rare for Zoë to show her feelings, yet there was no denying that she looked distressed.

‘Hey, come on,’ he said quickly. ‘I know it’s upsetting when it’s a child involved, but Megan will be fine after a good night’s sleep.’

‘Of course she will.’

She spun round on her heel, making it clear that she didn’t want to discuss the matter, and he sighed. Why had he bothered? He should have known that Zoë wouldn’t welcome his concern.

He followed her from ED, pausing on the way out to make sure that Megan’s parents had provided the reception staff with all the necessary details. Their family doctor would need to be informed about what had happened, even though there was no reason to suspect that Megan would suffer any repercussions from her adventures. However, it was best to err on the safe side, he’d always found.

Erring on the safe side hadn’t achieved very much when it had come to his relationship with Zoë, though, had it? he thought as he left the building. He had done everything he could to make her feel safe and secure, to reassure her that he would never stop loving her. Although he had only the sketchiest idea of her background, she had told him enough to fill in the gaps for himself.

He knew that her parents’ divorce must have hit her hard and doubly so when it had meant that she’d been placed in care following her mother’s breakdown. However, was it enough to explain why she’d refused to believe that he would never stop loving her? Zoë had been his whole world at one time, yet she had rejected his love, walked away rather than take the risk of trusting him. Although he was over the heartache it had caused him, it was still difficult to understand what she’d done. One thing was certain: no woman was going to put him through the mill again!

Dark thoughts accompanied Ben back to where he had left his car—illegally parked outside ED. He unlocked the doors then paused when Zoë made no attempt to get in. ‘I promise I won’t make you sit in the back this time,’ he said, deliberately opting for levity. The past was the past and he wasn’t going to fall into the trap of raking over the embers of their ill-fated affair. ‘It’s the passenger seat for you, Dr Frost. You’ve earned it.’

She smiled tightly, not responding to his teasing. ‘It’s kind of you, Ben, but I’ll get a taxi back to the hotel. You live in the opposite direction and I don’t want to take you out of your way.’

‘I don’t mind if you don’t,’ he replied flippantly, wondering why it seemed so important to get a reaction from her. The days when he had wanted to impress Zoë were long gone. ‘It’s not as though I have anything better to do with my time seeing as I’m redundant.’

‘Redundant?’

‘Uh-huh. I feel a bit like Cinderella only I’m the wrong sex.’ He looked suitably mournful. ‘I’m the best man that nobody wants. I’m not needed for the wedding or for the celebrations that should have come afterwards. It’s hard not to feel a little de trop in such circumstances.’

‘Oh, poor you!’ Zoë chuckled, a delicate sound that made the tiny hairs on his neck quiver in appreciation. ‘Does nobody love you, then?’

You certainly don’t love me, Ben thought, but didn’t say so. That would have been a major mistake, a top score on the mistakes Richter scale. The last thing he wanted was to give the impression that he was still hung up on her.

‘It looks that way. And that being the case, I may as well run you back to your hotel. At least it will fill in a bit more time and stop me feeling like a reject.’

He got into the car, leaving it to Zoë to decide whether she was going to accept his offer. A frisson ran through him when she slid into the passenger seat but he didn’t allow himself to read anything into it. It made no difference if she had opted to spend a bit more time with him.

It was gone seven by the time they drew up outside the hotel. Ben cut the engine, shrugging when Zoë looked questioningly at him. ‘I just want to check that nothing untoward has happened with regard to the reception. Ross told me he’d cancelled everything but you never know.’

‘Still set on being the perfect best man?’ Zoë said lightly, but he heard the tension in her voice and guessed that she was afraid it was merely an excuse to prolong their time together.

Was it? he wondered suddenly. And if so, why? He didn’t want her back—no way on earth would he wish for that! It had taken him months to get over her and he wasn’t going through that kind of hell again. He’d done what he’d wanted to do, spent the best part of the day with her, and come through it unscathed, so why did he have this niggling feeling that they still had unfinished business? What else did he need to prove? That he was so immune to her he could spend the night with her and walk away in the morning without any regrets?

‘I want to be sure that I’ve carried out my duties to the very best of my ability,’ he told her, reeling from the thought.

‘Such dedication! I am impressed.’

Zoë laughed and Ben breathed a sigh of relief when it broke the spell. Zoë may have hurt him, but there was no way that he would use her to his own ends like that.

The receptionist must have spotted them coming in because she immediately hurried into the office and reappeared with the manager in tow. Ben’s heart sank when he saw how uncomfortable they both looked as he and Zoë approached the desk. He could only conclude that some mishap had occurred relating to the wedding reception. However, the man ignored him and addressed Zoë.

‘I’m terribly sorry, Dr Frost, but there’s a problem with your room.’

‘What sort of problem?’ Zoë asked, glancing at the receptionist, who was doing her best to avoid their eyes.

‘Unfortunately, a guest on the floor above forgot to turn off the bath taps and the water came through the ceiling of your room.’ The manager looked suitably repentant. ‘Sadly, the room is too badly damaged for you to spend the night there so I took the liberty of having your belongings moved.’

He lifted a key off its hook and handed it to her. ‘Fortunately, we had a cancellation so we were able to move you to a suite. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, Dr Frost. It’s our most luxurious accommodation. And by way of apology for the inconvenience you’ve suffered, we would like to offer you and a guest a complimentary dinner tonight.’

Ben glanced at the key Zoë was holding as the manager scuttled away. All the keys had name tags attached to them and he could read the tag attached to this one without any difficulty. His eyes rose to Zoë’s and he was unable to control the smile that twitched the corners of his mouth.

‘They say every cloud has a silver lining. If the wedding hadn’t been called off, you could have found yourself sleeping on a park bench.’

‘Instead of which I’ll be sleeping in the Honeymoon Suite.’ Zoë looked at the key then burst out laughing. ‘I don’t believe this is happening!’

‘You will when you get to sleep in that fabulous bed,’ Ben assured her.

‘You’ve seen the room?’ she exclaimed and he sobered abruptly.

‘Yes. I came with Ross when he booked it for him and Heather. The manager showed it to us then.’

He took a quick breath but the image of Zoë lying in that huge old-fashioned bed with its muslin canopy filled his head to the exclusion of everything else. It was the room he would have chosen to spend the night in if they’d been getting married, he realised, and the thought was too painful to bear.

‘It sounds lovely,’ she said softly and he heard an echo of what he was feeling in her voice.

His gaze locked with hers and he felt a shiver run through him. Zoë may have rejected him two years ago but she still wanted him. He could see it in her eyes, see the longing, the yearning, and he understood how she felt because he felt it too. Oh, he hadn’t lived like a monk these past two years—far from it. He’d been out with a lot of women, even slept with a few, and it had been fine in a way. However, each and every time he had found himself comparing them to Zoë, and unfavourably too.

He needed to break the cycle, forget what he and Zoë had had, and this may be the only way to do it. If he slept with her tonight, he could rid himself of the last emotional ties. It wouldn’t be using her, either, because he could tell it was what she needed too. Zoë needed to draw a line under the past the same as he did.

Reaching out, he captured her hand. ‘It’s a beautiful room, Zoë, the perfect place for two lovers to spend a night. I only wish we could spend tonight there. You and me. Together. It could be our swansong, the perfect ending to what we once meant to each other.’



Soft light filled the room, casting shadows into the corners. Dinner had been served and eaten, although neither of them had done justice to the delicious meal. Zoë caught a glimpse of herself in the window as she drew the curtains and was surprised by how calm she looked, how in control. Inside she was a mess, anticipation making her nerves tingle, her blood heat, her body tremble as though she had a fever. Maybe she did, too, and that’s why she had agreed to this. Spending the night with Ben for any reason was madness: she knew it and so must he.

She spun round to tell him that she had changed her mind and stopped. Ben was sitting on the sofa, his eyes closed, his face looking set even in repose. He was as worried as she was about what they were planning and the realisation comforted her in a strange way. Ben was under no illusions. He knew this night would mark the end for them.

The thought left her feeling empty, but she had learned a long time ago how to conquer her emotions. She went over to the couch, sat down and took Ben’s hand in hers. His eyelids flickered although he didn’t open his eyes. Maybe he needed a second or two more to prepare himself, and she understood. In that respect they were perfectly in tune.

Her heart filled with warmth and if she was honest it also filled with love but that was the most dangerous of all emotions and one she rarely acknowledged. Sliding her fingers between his, she let her palm rest against his, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the shape and strength of his fingers—so different to her own. Ben had such beautiful hands and she had always loved to have him touch her, stroke her, caress her…

Her breath caught on an audible hiss and his eyes opened. Zoë felt a shaft of desire run through her when she saw the expression they held. Ben wanted her. He wanted to make her his and have her make him hers. He wanted it so badly that she could feel his desire for her swirling around them as they sat there, side by side, their fingers entwined.

‘Are you sure about this, Zoë? Really sure?’ His tone was filled with passion and tenderness in equal measure. Zoë’s heart swelled because it was more than she’d expected and far more than she deserved.

‘Yes.’ Her tone was cool and she felt relieved when she heard it. She was still in control, still able to function on other levels instead of on only the most basic. ‘It’s what I want, Ben, but are you sure it’s what you want?’

‘Yes. I’m sure.’ He leant forward and brushed her mouth with his lips. ‘It’s what I need to do.’

He deepened the kiss, effectively cutting short any further discussion, although Zoë would have been hard-pressed to string two words together. It felt as though her brain had stopped functioning, thoughts flitting about her head in no particular order. Her nerve endings were working fine, though, messages zipping back and forth, allowing her to enjoy every moment of the kiss, to savour their closeness, to revel in the desire that had risen inside her like a hot tide.

She gave a little murmur as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down so that she could kiss him back with equal fervour. She heard him groan as her lips parted, felt the hot sweet rush of pleasure when his tongue slid inside her mouth and groaned too because it was an overture to what would come later. When his hands slid down her sides, following the curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, she shuddered. Just the feel of his hands through her clothes was enough to incite her passion.

He drew back, resting his forehead against hers as he dragged in several rough breaths that made his chest rise and fall enticingly against her breasts. Zoë could feel her nipples harden as the muscles in his torso brushed against them, and sighed. She’d always been embarrassingly responsive where Ben was concerned and nothing had changed.

‘Wow! I know I should come up with something more erudite, but that sums it up better than anything else. A great big fat wow!’

‘Then I suppose wow will have to do.’ Zoë laughed, wondering how she’d forgotten what fun Ben could be even in the throes of passion. Tilting back her head, she regarded him through narrowed eyes, enjoying the fact that she felt comfort¬ able enough to tease him. ‘Think about this very carefully before you reply. Was the kiss as good as it used to be?’

‘Better,’ he said firmly, taking her back into his arms and holding her so close that she could feel his heart beating in counterpoint to hers. ‘The fact that we’re no longer under such pressure to make our relationship work makes all the difference.’

Zoë wasn’t sure what to make of that idea but he didn’t give her time to dwell on it. When he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, she relaxed against him, giving herself up to the delight of being in his arms again. He kissed every inch of her face and her neck then started to work his way down her body, unhooking buttons and unzipping zips, easing her out of her clothes with so little fuss that it was a moment before she realised that all she had on was a pair of panties and they were soon dispensed with.

‘You’re very good at this undressing lark,’ she whispered, feeling decidedly overexposed seeing as Ben was still wearing his clothes.

‘Aren’t I just?’ His handsome face filled with laughter as he planted a kiss on her nose. ‘I’ve had a lot of practice.’

‘Thanks to all the women you’ve undressed lately,’ she muttered, not appreciating the thought of Ben and a series of unknown women in various states of undress.

‘No, thanks to all the patients I’ve undressed.’ He kissed her again, looking a little smug about getting a rise out of her.

‘You have nurses to do that for you,’ she retorted, resenting his teasing and what had prompted it. She had no right to feel jealous at the thought of him and other women when she had rejected him, but she did.

‘I do.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘But I’ve always preferred a hands-on approach, if you remember?’

She remembered all right, recalled in glorious detail what his hands could do—exactly what they were doing now. Zoë closed her eyes as she felt his clever fingers stroking her skin and setting off a whole chain of reactions. When he ran the tip of his finger down the hollow between her breasts, she gasped. When he let it trail across her right nipple, she moaned. When it found her belly button and dipped in and out, she wriggled invitingly because she knew where it would be heading next.

The thought sent a rush of desire coursing through her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in very a long time. Although she had no intention of letting Ben know it, she hadn’t slept with anyone else in the past two years. She’d had offers, of course—several highly personable men, doctors she worked with in Paris, had asked her out, but she had refused their invitations. She’d told herself that she hadn’t wanted any complications in her life, but now she realised the truth was far more complex: she hadn’t wanted anyone except Ben.

Tears filled her eyes as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the huge old-fashioned bed with a gentleness that spoke volumes about the man he was. Ben had loved her, cared for her, wanted only for her to be happy. She’d known that and had fought against it. If she had accepted what he’d wanted to give her, she would never have been able to leave him, never been able to bear it if he’d left her.

She had rejected him because she’d been afraid, not because she hadn’t loved him. Everyone she had ever loved had let her down—her mother, her father, everyone—and she’d been terrified that Ben would do the same. She had tried to explain that to him, but it had been too difficult for him to understand and in the end she’d had no choice but to leave him rather than run the risk of being hurt again. However, as he stripped off his clothes and came to lie beside her under the canopy of muslin clouds, Zoë knew that he was the only man she would ever love. She had given Ben her heart even if he didn’t know it. And if she couldn’t have Ben, she didn’t want anyone else.


CHAPTER FOUR

March



‘THIS guy’s got a ruptured spleen. Get on to the surgical team and tell them we need someone down here now, not in an hour’s time!’

Ben rapped out the order, ignoring the look his staff exchanged. His temper had been on a knife edge for weeks and he didn’t need a psychologist to tell him why. He’d been deluding himself by thinking he could draw a line under the past by sleeping with Zoë. What it had done had been to arouse a lot of emotions he’d thought he had buried. If only he’d had the sense to realise the risk he’d been taking.

He gritted his teeth because he refused to go down the if-only route again. He’d made a mistake and that was that. Now he had to get on with his life. Turning to Jo Morris, the senior staff nurse on duty that day, he deliberately moderated his tone.

‘Can you check how the passenger in that car is doing, Jo? She was complaining of chest pains when she was brought in. If they haven’t settled down, she’s going to need an ECG.’

‘Will do.’

Jo gave him a smile before she hurried out of Resus, leaving him feeling guiltier than ever. Although there may have been a few funny looks exchanged, everyone had put up with his bad temper with remarkably good grace. It made him realise how lucky he was to have such a tolerant group of people around him.

Unlooping his stethoscope from around his neck, he bent over the patient again. Brian Roberts had been cycling to work when he had been hit by a car. According to an eyewitness, the vehicle had rammed straight into him. Brian had suffered a range of injuries, the most serious being a ruptured spleen. He was losing a lot of blood and Ben was anxious to get him to Theatre as quickly as possible.

‘What did Surgical have to say?’ he asked when Adam Sanders, their senior house officer, came hurrying back.

‘They’ve promised that s-someone will be here in the next five minutes,’ Adam informed him, stammering a little in case Ben thought that wasn’t soon enough. He’d been on the receiving end of Ben’s tongue for most of the day, a fact that Ben now bitterly regretted.

‘Excellent. Obviously, you’ve managed to gee them up where others have failed,’ he said heartily, pleased to see that Adam immediately perked up. He nodded to the patient, wanting to continue smoothing the young doctor’s ruffled feathers. ‘Have a listen to his chest. I think the right lung sounds a bit dodgy—what do you think?’

Adam turned bright pink at having his opinion canvassed and listened intently to the patient’s chest. ‘It sounds a bit rough to me, too. Maybe there’s a build-up of fluid,’ he suggested, emboldened by Ben’s more reasonable attitude.

‘I agree.’ Ben nodded. ‘He took a real knock when he came off his bike, which accounts for the ruptured spleen. If a rib was fractured as well, it could have caused bleeding into the pleural cavity.’ He turned toAbby Blake, another of their nurses, who was standing off to one side. ‘I’d like a chest drain set, please, Abby.’

It didn’t take long to draw off the excess fluid that had collected in the pleural cavity. Ben had just finished when the surgical reg arrived and whisked the patient away, tutting his displeasure as though it was ED’s fault that there’d been a delay. Ben stripped off his gloves and tossed them into the bin.

‘That was a good job, folks. Thank you.’

‘Oh, so we’re out of the doghouse now, are we?’ Abby piped up. She grinned at him. ‘About time too. We were this close to mutiny.’

She held her first finger and thumb a scant quarter inch apart and Ben laughed.

‘Am I supposed to be worried? Now, if you were this close.’ He pressed his thumb and finger tightly together. ‘I might be really concerned, but not when I have so much leeway!’

Everyone laughed and it went a long way to restoring the harmony that was such an important part of them working as a team. Ben made himself a promise that he would stop behaving like a jerk from now on as he left Resus. There was no point regretting what had happened with Zoë. He’d taken a chance and it hadn’t paid off. He’d coped with worse and survived to tell the tale, too. One thing was certain: Zoë wasn’t wasting her time thinking about him.



It took Zoë almost three hours to drive from the airport to Dalverston and she was exhausted by the time she got there. An accident on the M6 motorway had caused a huge tailback of traffic and it was a relief when she reached her exit. She parked in the hotel’s car park and hurried inside, filling in the registration card the receptionist gave her with a hand that trembled from a mixture of tiredness and emotion. So much had happened since the night she’d stayed here with Ben.

Fear ran coldly through her and she hastily took the key off the receptionist, shaking her head when the girl asked if she needed a porter to deal with her luggage. All she’d brought with her was an overnight case and she could manage that herself. She took the lift to the third floor and let herself into the room, barely glancing around to check that everything was as it should be. She was here and that was the main thing, although what happened from here on was a question she couldn’t answer. It all depended on Ben and how he reacted to what she had to tell him. It was a lot to expect of him, probably too much bearing in mind what had gone on before. But he was the only person she could ask for help. If he refused, she had no idea what she was going to do.



Ben was stepping out of the shower the following morning when the phone rang and for a moment he was tempted to ignore it. It was his day off, the first one he’d had for weeks, and he really didn’t want to have to go in to work. He sighed as he snatched a towel off the rail. If he didn’t answer it, he’d spend the day wondering how the department was coping. Talk about being trapped between a rock and a hard place!

‘Ben Nicholls.’ He hunched his shoulder to keep the receiver against his ear while he rubbed himself dry. If it was the hospital, he would need to get there asap. The kind of injuries they dealt with weren’t the sort that could wait for any length of time.

‘Ben, it’s Zoë.’

The receiver slid off his shoulder and landed with a crash on the floor. Ben cursed as he picked it up. He must be hallucinating. He could have sworn the caller had said she was Zoë.

‘Sorry about that. I dropped the receiver,’ he said briskly, dismissing the idea. No way would Zoë be phoning him at this hour of the morning… Correction: no way would Zoë be phoning him at any hour of the day.

‘It’s OK. Look, Ben, if I’ve caught you at a bad time I can phone back later, but I really need to speak to you. Is there any chance that we can meet up sometime today?’

Ben’s breath caught because there was no mistaking Zoë’s voice this time. ‘It really is you, Zoë?’

‘Of course it is. So when can we meet? I wouldn’t pester you, Ben, but it’s imperative that I talk to you.’

Ben frowned when he heard how uptight she sounded. It was obvious that something must have happened to bring her back to Dalverston, although he had no idea what it could be. ‘Of course we can meet. I’ve got today off as it happens so name the time and the place and I’ll be there.’

‘Ten o’clock in the lounge of the hotel,’ she said quickly and he knew that she must have rehearsed her answer in advance.

‘Fine. Can you tell me what this is all about? I mean, it’s a bit sudden, you turning up like this…’

‘I’d prefer to wait until later. Ten o’clock it is.’

She hung up before he could finish what he’d been saying, leaving him feeling more perplexed than ever. The fact that Zoë had flown back to England to arrange this meeting didn’t make sense. After all, he’d had no contact with her since December. There’d been no phone calls, no notes, not even a Christmas card—nada. The fact that he hadn’t phoned or written to her either was by the by—he wasn’t foolish enough to do that.

No, Zoë had made it clear after that night they’d spent together that she didn’t want to see him again, which made her arrival all the more puzzling. What could be so urgent that she needed to speak to him when she’d ignored him for the past three months?

Ben blinked as the words resounded inside his head: it had been three months since he and Zoë had slept together. Was it possible that she had come to tell him she was pregnant?

Shock coursed through every vein in his body, turned his legs to jelly, and he collapsed onto the bed. He hadn’t used a condom that night. Zoë had told him that she was on the Pill to regulate her menstrual cycle and there was no need for them to take extra precautions. However, everyone knew that the Pill wasn’t one hundred per cent effective—no method of contraception was apart from abstinence. Maybe, just maybe, their night together had resulted in a baby, their baby, his and Zoë’s child.

Ben closed his eyes as his head began to reel. He could barely take it in and knew he needed time to think about it, then realised in a flash there was nothing to think about. If Zoë was having his baby, it was the most wonderful thing that could have happened. One thing was certain, too: he intended to be there for his child every step of the way!



Zoë chose her seat with care, opting for a table in the corner from where she could see the door. She needed to be in control if she hoped to get through this meeting and didn’t need any surprises like Ben appearing without her realising it…

Her breath caught when she saw him coming in. Despite the chill in the air, all he was wearing was a thin sweater and jeans. Had he dragged on the first clothes that had come to hand? Dressed in a hurry because he hadn’t wanted to keep her waiting? It was so typical of his thoughtfulness, of the caring man he was, and the thought eased some of her tension a little. Ben wouldn’t let her down. She knew it.

‘Thanks for coming,’ she said quietly as he sat down. ‘I’ve ordered coffee. It should be here in a minute.’

‘Fine.’ He leant forward and she could see the lines of tension on his face. ‘What’s this all about, Zoë?’

‘Let’s wait for the coffee, shall we? I could do with a cup and I’m sure you could too.’

Ben couldn’t hide his impatience as he subsided back in the chair, but he didn’t push her and she was grateful for that. It seemed to take for ever before the waitress arrived with their tray, although in truth it was only a few minutes. Zoë picked up the heavy silver pot and poured them both a cup of the steaming brew, automatically adding milk and sugar to Ben’s cup before handing it to him. He had a sweet tooth, something she had often teased him about.

‘Thanks.’

He took a sip of his coffee then set the cup and saucer on the table and rubbed his hands together. Zoë realised with a start how nervous he looked and wished that she hadn’t added to the pressure by making him wait those extra few minutes. Putting down her own cup, she sat up straighter. It would be easier for them both if she told him what she wanted rather than draw it out.

‘Are you pregnant, Zoë?’

The question caught her off guard. Her eyes flew to his face but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was deliberately masking his feelings and the thought made her shiver because it proved that the dynamics of their relationship had changed dramatically. The Ben she remembered would never have been so guarded around her; she would have known immediately how he was feeling. Obviously she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought and may have been wrong to assume that he would help her.

Fear rushed through her and she half rose, but Ben was too quick for her. He caught her hand, shaking his head when she tried to free herself. ‘I’m not letting you run away without answering my question. I may have got it completely wrong, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. You’re having my baby, aren’t you, Zoë? Why else would you have come here to see me?’

Zoë sank back into the chair when she heard the pain in his voice. She had hurt him badly and it was the one thing she had tried to avoid. All she could do now was be truthful and hope that in some small way it would make up for what she had done. Raising her head, she looked him in the eyes.

‘Yes, I’m pregnant, and, before you ask, Ben, it is your child. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. I haven’t slept with anyone else since we split up.’

A dozen different emotions chased across his face before he got himself under control. ‘I see. So you must be, what? Eleven, twelve weeks?’

‘Almost thirteen,’ she replied without hesitation because she had been keeping track of every day.

‘And do you intend to keep the baby?’

Zoë winced at his bluntness, but there was no point in lying by claiming that having a termination hadn’t crossed her mind. The only way this would work was if she was completely honest with him and even then it may be too much to expect.

‘Yes. Having a child has never been on my agenda, as you know. However, I’ve decided to keep the baby.’





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