The Summer We Loved

The Summer We Loved

WENDY LOU JONES

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

Copyright © Wendy Lou Jones 2015

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Cover design by Michelle Andrews

Wendy Lou Jones asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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Ebook Edition © July 2015 ISBN: 9780008124755

Version 2015-07-30

Praise for Wendy Lou Jones

'Powerful and emotional…and unlike so many other emotional romance novels.'

Reviewed the Book

'Both heartbreaking and at the same time an uplifting read…have a box of Kleenex at the ready.'

Rea Loves Books

'Wendy Lou Jones has done it again! She made my cry so badly it felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds.'

Romance Book Haven

'The perfect read if you like medical romance with strong, emotional characters and are prepared to open your mind to new possibilities.'

Jane Hunt Reviews

'A very moving and emotional book. I cried buckets and I'll say no more!'

Annie's Book Corner

'One of the best books I've read this year.'

Librarian Lavender

To my fellow guinea pig loving editor, Charlotte, whose refusal to let me off easy during the creation of By My Side meant I fell in love with Peter too.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for Wendy Lou Jones

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Also by Wendy Lou Jones …

Wendy Lou Jones

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

Prologue

So Adam had done it again. Twice now he had found love; binding himself to a woman ‘till death do us part’. He made it look so easy, stood up there in front of the congregation, eagerly saying ‘I do’. Peter Florin couldn’t think of anything worse. To have your own happiness bound so tightly to another’s that you had no choice but to feel their pain? No. That was not an option he was willing to pursue.

Still, a wedding was a wedding: plenty of women in fancy frocks, drinking merrily and expecting to be flirted with. You couldn’t knock it, really. His eyes scanned the guests at the church, rapidly surveying the offering. Had her. Had her. Ugh! Won’t be having her. His gaze came to rest on Kate’s friends a few rows ahead of him: Flis, Jenny and Soph.

From what he had heard, Soph was off the market now. Flis still held a torch for him, he had known that for a while, and although not exactly his type, he would keep her in mind just in case. But then there was Jen. Jenny Wren. He hadn’t had much to do with her yet, and looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine why. Her skin, where it rose up the back of her neck, was like cappuccino silk. He licked his lips. As he watched, she turned her head to whisper to the friend next to her and Pete could see the light dancing in her eyes. Yes, he was going to enjoy this.

Before he could deliberate much further, the organ started up, breaking his reverie, and the congregation began to stand. It was over.

Throughout the dullness of the small talk and speeches that followed, Pete kept Jen firmly on his radar. He smiled across at her when she caught his eye and relished the faint blush of crimson that appeared in his wake. Everything about this was wanton anticipation and, beat after beat, it was building.

Outside, it was a warm summer’s evening. Kate and Adam’s reception was being held in a marquee on the back lawn of an expensive hotel, and in the aftermath of the meal a disco was slowly warming up on one side of the tent, leaving the tables being cleared on the other. In the relaxed atmosphere of the early evening, when groups of guests were milling about, catching up with old friends and relatives and congratulating the bride and groom, Peter Florin could be found leaning up against the bar.

He stood there watching her and nursing a fresh pint of beer. She was dancing now – an observer’s sport, in his books. She had looked over at him once or twice and he had been busy studying her reaction. She liked him. This was good. Just being there that day, with Adam, had been hard for him; he would welcome a challenge, if only for distraction.

To amuse himself, Pete tried to determine her response as a lover just by looking at her. The big eyes, full lips and seductive moves spoke of a decadent sensuality and the sparkly earring in the top of her right ear screamed out ‘rebel’. Yes, she was just what the doctor ordered. His smile kicked in. It was time to make a move.

Greeting Adam briefly as he walked up to the edge of the dance floor, Pete kept his eyes on the prize. Jenny’s body was supple, and as it moved and swayed in time with the music, it was almost hypnotic. Her mysterious eyes caught him approaching and for a second he became aware of her, trapped, unmoving in his spotlight. His heart rate kicked up a gear in response, but his pace didn’t slow. Closer still, he continued his appraisal. The short choppy hairstyle gave her a pixie-like quality that echoed of mischief and fun. Yes, he had to have her. His skin was burning with desire, so much so that, for a moment, he wondered just who was dangling on the hook.

Jenny spoke to a friend whilst her eyes were fathoming him and then left the dance floor. She walked right past him and as she did, she smiled. Wham! Pete turned to watch her walking away from him and quickly recovered. Was he being seduced? It was a novelty for a woman to make him work for it, but it made a refreshing change and from the look of her, it would definitely be worth the play. He looked around him. He had better crank up his pitch.

From the far side of the dance floor, Pete waited for his cue. He wasn’t a fan of dancing, but on some occasions, he realised, needs must.

A minute later, the DJ tapped the mic. “Would a Jenny make her way to the centre of the dance floor, please, as her Prince Charming is currently waiting there to dance with her.”

Pete took a deep breath and loosened his tie a little as the message stirred through the crowd. All eyes were searching for someone called Jenny. It wasn’t a common name, so Pete was banking on her being the only one. Fingers started to point and nudge and then he spotted her, being escorted by some friends, warily winding her way back over in his direction. He moved into the centre and waited.

The three of them were egging her on and then, as she approached the dance floor, the crowd slowly parted, until there was nothing left between Jenny and him but air. Pete revelled in the surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He held out a hand and the crowd held its breath.

With her cheeks glowing, Jenny responded, moving slowly closer towards him. The proud set of her chin and determination to hold his gaze impressing him even more.

The onlookers sent up a cheer and after a moment or two, began to close ranks around them and then she was there, with him, her hand holding onto his.

She stood before him. “You could have just asked me,” she said.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” he replied. The song changed and a slow dance was calling them. “Shall we?” he asked.

Moving her into his arms, Pete felt the thrill of a new chase. He winked his thanks at the DJ over her shoulder and then looked down at her, smiling. He knew if he had gone about things in his usual style she would have likely sent him packing, but this way he had her, and he wasn’t about to apologise for that.

Slowly, he felt her body start to relax beneath his fingers. He could smell the warm spicy scent of her skin and her hair and took pleasure in the touch of her hand, still clasped gently in his. “Would you have said yes if I’d have asked you?” he asked her softly in her ear.

“Probably not,” she replied.

“Thought as much.” He left it hanging in his tone that he was feeling smug about this.

“You’re not as irresistible as you think you are, you know,” she told him, but her body was slowly yielding to his. He rejoiced at the sensation of her breasts pressing lightly against him, and the fact that her cheek was slowly falling towards his chest, but it was her eyes, now big and dark, that were calling her a liar.

Jenny jumped a little and pulled away from him. She picked her phone out of her pocket and looked at it. She paled. Looking around, Pete followed her gaze and spotted a man standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring shards of glass at them.

“I’ve got to go,” she said and Pete stood back and let her walk away.

At the edge of the dance floor he saw the man dragging Jenny outside by her wrist. The man’s frame was stiff, his shoulders hunched and his jaw was set firm. Pete was unsettled.

Pete walked over to a marquee window, watching them carefully. The man led Jenny out to a big oak tree in the grounds. The light outside was fading now, not black yet, but a dim, hazy glow.

An argument was happening. He couldn’t hear it, but their body language was saying enough. Jenny Wren must have a boyfriend too, he thought. And she was in trouble now, because of him. So much for his sensual evening. He wanted to turn away and head back to the bar, but something inside him said, ‘wait’. He noticed Jenny rubbing her wrist where the man had held onto it, as she tried to sort out the problem between them. He’d hurt her. Something distant was rising now, coiling up inside him like a viper ready to spring.

The man put his hand up to her hair and for a second Pete thought the worst must be over, but then he grabbed it hard in his fist and he could see Jenny buckling beneath him.

Charging outside, Pete’s head was in another place, in another time. Rage was coursing through his gut, along with fear and hate and so much pain it terrified him. He was on the man in seconds. Grabbing his other hand and twisting it back until it seemed as though it might break. “Leave her alone,” he hissed. Teeth bared, his eyes held the shadows of night. The man dropped his hold of Jenny, doubling over at Pete’s feet. He tried, unsuccessfully, to free himself and Pete wrenched at him all the harder. “Do you know this guy, Jen?” Pete asked, not taking his eyes off him for a second.

Jenny sounded shaken. “H-he’s my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend?” When would these women ever learn? “And you let him treat you like this?”

“No.”

“Has he ever hurt you before?” He still had the man whimpering in his grasp. Please let her not be a victim. He couldn’t bear it. He’d thought her stronger than that.

“No. Well. Yes. Only once, though.”

Shit.

From behind him, someone was calling his name. Daylight crept inside his darkened shell. He let his gaze sweep over Jenny to make sure she was okay. She was looking at him as she would a mad man. He had to get out of this, get himself away.

He turned to the man, busy struggling in his grip, the contemptible bully now squirming on his knees. “She doesn’t want to go out with you any more,” he said. “So leave. Now. And don’t ever think of coming back. She won’t be seeing you again.” He let the man go, pushing him away and then stood between him and Jen, who was by now busy picking herself up off the floor. Pete stood his ground as the man looked from one to the other. “Isn’t that right, Jen?” he called back.

Her voice was shaky, but adamant. “Yes.”

The man shot one last dirty look towards him and then, rubbing his hand and swearing under his breath, he turned and stomped away.

Pete turned around to Jen and noticed she was shaking. “Are you okay?” he asked. Her frightened eyes looked back at him, like a child’s. He quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders. It swamped her and something about that picture appealed to him, making his heart quiver. “Come with me.”

He walked with Jenny to a bench he spotted further down the lawn; it was tucked into a border of high flowers, partially obscuring it from view. He sat her down and then, sitting next to her, he tried to talk some sense into her. “Let me see your wrist.”

Jenny was reluctant, so he carefully reached down and took it. Pink marks were rising all around it, making Pete’s scalp prickle with anger. This girl loved attention. That much he did know about her. Surely she didn’t have to put up with scumbags like that just to get it? “Why did you go out with him?” he asked.

“He seemed like a nice guy… at first,” she told him. “Only yesterday he told me he thought he was falling in love with me.”

Pete pointed at her wrist, now cradled back in her lap. “This isn’t love, Jen,” he said. He was trying to sound calm, although every fibre in his body was screaming.

Her reply was a soft, barely audible, “No.”

He turned to face her, willing her to understand. “You’re a gorgeous woman, Jen. Why haven’t you found yourself a good man yet? You’re stunning and kind and fun. So what is it? Am I missing something? Because from where I’m sitting, I can’t see anything to complain about.”

Her expression was turning misty. Big, round, emotional eyes poured into him, penetrating deep into his guts. Adrenaline flared again. What did she want from him? No. He didn’t do this. He was no good at emotional. He wanted to run from the need he saw in her then. He had said too much. Damn, but how to get himself out of this now? He had only been trying to settle her, to reassure himself that she was all right. That was all. He could do fun, he could do pleasure; emotions were off limits for him.

Pete stood up and searched for some means of escape. With relief, he noticed Soph and her boyfriend hurrying towards them.

“Guys.”

“I know. We saw everything. How are you, Jen? Did that bastard hurt you?”

Pete remembered to breathe and gratefully seized the opportunity to get away. “You’ll be all right now?” he asked her.

Soph put her hand on Jen’s arm. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Great.” What else could he say? Those mysterious grey eyes, now pink-rimmed with tears, looked up at him from the bench. They were studying him, as if they could see inside his soul. Like they could read every thought in his head. He needed to run.

Pete did his best to smile and then made for the cover of the party. Now what he needed was a shag. He needed escape. Mindless sex to take him away from all that was closing in on him.

He searched the dance floor. Who was still available?

*

That was where it had all begun, according to Pete, anyway. Jenny sat at her writing desk and tried to remember the order of things. She wanted to tell the story exactly as it had happened and had interrogated Pete long and hard (or that was how he had seen it) to this effect. She wanted to show how it had really been, not just how people had seen it. It was important. She had to get this right.

Jenny looked up at the paperwork from the hospital, pinned to the notice board in front of her desk. She was on a tight schedule. If she was to get this all down in time, she was going to have to push herself.

She opened up her laptop and logged in. Listening to the hustle and bustle of life outside her window, Jenny let her mind wander back to a time when she had been less contented and she searched for a place to begin. In the end, she decided on five years later, after Pete’s return to her life. That was where her story would open, because that was when the pining had stopped and action had set in motion the storm that swept in…

Chapter 1

I saw him again today, standing there, leaning against the wall. A set of notes hung casually in his hands, as he talked with the nurse whose patient he’d come to see. Did he see me? I don’t think so. He looked, but I don’t think he saw. His smile, as always, lit up the corners of my heart, but nothing was said, not to me. He must have asked out every nurse in the hospital at some point, either when he was here before, or since his return, but he never wanted me, not any more.

Am I that unattractive? Is it his reluctance to want me that’s making me think about him all the more? I hope not. I hope I’m not that shallow; maybe I am. Kate seems convinced there’s a decent guy lurking inside there, just waiting for someone to help him break out and I have to hope that she’s right. Because I saw something in his eyes the day of the wedding, just for a moment. It may be buried a long way down, but I can hear its voice.

Jenny’s brow crinkled as she let out a deep sigh and bit down on the end of her pen.

Whilst before he used to treat me like a little sister, now he barely acknowledges me. So here I remain, in limbo, waiting for him to notice me. And not in that wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am way he does with most women, but with something more, something deeper. I’m not a fool. I know that if he’d ever had any intentions romantically towards me he would have acted on them by now, but that is my hope, and for now, hope is all I have.

Putting her diary back in the drawer, Jenny slumped back down onto her bed. One of her friends had remarked once that her love life was rather akin to the rhyme for King Henry VIII’s wives: ‘Forgot to get divorced, should have been beheaded, lied, forgot to get divorced, should have been beheaded’ and now she was determined to survive. No more married men conveniently forgetting to tell her about their other halves; no more players. No one. She was through casting her net and coming up with jelly fish: all softness and beauty on the surface, but with barbs that stung you underneath. What she needed now was all or nothing. Love. Deep, meaningful, overwhelming love that took hold of you by the guts and dared you to feel the pain. Love that sucked you in and devoured you whole, while releasing you to evolve into something bigger, something… wonderful. Until that happened, she was not going to fall again.

Jenny hugged Mr Rochester, her old, worn, and much-loved teddy bear, to her chest. For now he was going to have to be enough. And she turned out the light and settled down to sleep.

At ten o’clock the next morning, Flis appeared at the kitchen door for breakfast. She was also on a late.

“Lover boy not eating with us this morning, then?” Jenny asked.

Flis shook her head. “He’s got a meeting in London today, so he didn’t stop over.”

“Anything important?”

“I’m not sure. He was a bit cagey last night, but I’ve got a feeling it might be a promotion.”

Jenny looked up from her cereal. “Do you think he might have to move there?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Would you go with him if he did?”

“In a heartbeat,” Flis said, excitement lighting up her eyes. “Of course. And be a kept woman in the big city? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“Sounds hideous, I’d say. Wouldn’t you miss work?” Jenny asked, not at all convinced she could give up her independence so easily.

“No way. Why, would you?”

Jenny thought for a second. “Sadly, I think I would,” she said. “I think I’d miss feeling like I belonged, that I mattered. I’d miss the people.”

“Some more than others.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow and Flis shot her a meaningful look.

“Oh, come on. You’re not still harping on about Peter Florin, are you? That was years ago, Flis. You’ve got Robert now.”

“I know, but Connie from Goodwood Ward got fooled by him the other day; it just reminded me. She’s only been in the hospital a few weeks. Someone should definitely warn them. It should be part of the welcome pack: “Welcome to St Steven’s Hospital. We hope you enjoy working as part of our team, but please, ladies, don’t let the seductive charms of Dr Peter Florin fool you.”

Jenny chuckled. “Look, forget about him, Flis. Pete was never going to be a keeper, you knew that. He’s a womaniser. You need to get over it.”

“I am, really.” Flis gave Jenny her best ‘sincere’ look and then rested her cheek back down on her hand. “I had hoped for more than one desperate shag, though.”

“Yeah, well, join the club. I’m sure there are a hundred nurses who all feel exactly the same way as you. And not just here, all over the place.”

“You’ve never got caught by him, though, have you?” Flis said.

Jenny winced inwardly, sore at having been reminded of her virtually leprotic allure. Was she the only one left out in the cold? “Nope.” She tried her hardest to sound smug. “He’ll have to be quicker than that to catch hold of me. I’ve gone man-vegan.”

Flis looked at her.

“Yes, I decided I’m done with manipulative, self-centred men.” Flis looked at her, with eyebrows almost on the ceiling. “And, no, that doesn’t mean I’ve gone the other way. I’m just not going to waste any more of my life dating losers.” She picked up her bowl, washed it and placed it on the rack to drain. “I’m going for a run,” she said. “See you in a bit.”

Under the clear, blue sky, Jenny stepped out into the garden and started to jog. She felt the sun warming her shoulders. It was going to be a good day, she thought.