Snowkissed!: The Midwife's Marriage Proposal

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

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

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

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

Everyone except Tom.

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

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

He’d always been good at reading her.

Too good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What did you climb?’

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

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

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

‘Surprisingly well.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was tense.

She could feel it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Ellie is not my sister.’

‘But she’s a close friend.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had he expected a declaration of undying love?

If so then he was doomed to disappointment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was an incredibly kind person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she wasn’t that person any more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes.’

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

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

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

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

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

Other men, she told herself firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It would be all hers.

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

‘Goodnight. Thanks for the lift.’

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

‘Why would I?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was still there.

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

But it didn’t make it impossible.

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

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

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

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

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

And hadn’t he done just that?

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

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

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

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

What if he hadn’t ended it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But tonight something had changed.

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

It didn’t feel private, it felt lonely.

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

Sally.

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

And who could blame her for that?

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

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

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

And she was thinking too much.

Thinking about the past.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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