Caroline Anderson - Knave of Hearts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Cover

Title Page Knave of Hearts Caroline Anderson www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Copyright

WHAT a way to spend Valentine’s Day, Anne thought wearily as she stripped off her gloves. The most romantic day of the year, and what am I doing? Inserting perineal sutures!

‘Congratulations.’ Smiling tiredly at the happy parents of a brand-new baby boy, she left them in the care of the midwife, her suturing finished.

It had been a tricky labour and she’d had to use Keilland’s forceps to turn the baby before she could deliver him safely.

Theatre had been alerted, and the locum covering for Jo Carter, Anne’s senior registrar and boss, had been contacted in case he was required.

In the event Anne had managed without any problems, and she imagined the locum had gone home.

She was wrong.

The new guy’s waiting for you in Sister’s office,’ one of the junior midwives told her.

‘Lucky you,’ her colleague said with a laugh. ‘I wish he was waiting for me!’

Anne smiled wryly. ‘Not another Casanova,’ she sighed theatrically.

The nurses tittered.

‘He’s like a cross between Superman and Dirty Harry,’ the second girl told her. ‘Just point him in my direction if you’ve got no use for him!’

Just then Sister walked out of her office and the two trainee midwives snapped to attention and faded out of the corridor like magic.

‘Ah, Dr Gabriel,’ she said. ‘All finished? Come and meet Dr Carter’s locum. I have to go and see someone in the other delivery-room, but I think it’s straightforward. I’ll call you if I need you.’ She smiled conspiratorially and lowered her voice. ‘Take your time—I gather you’re old friends.’

Anne frowned in puzzlement after the woman as she walked briskly down the corridor.

‘Old friends?’

With a shake of her head, Anne walked through the door and stopped dead in her tracks.

It couldn’t be … could it?

‘Jake …?’

‘Hello, Annie. Happy Valentine’s Day.’

The man was lounging against the window, and as she stood there he shouldered himself away from the glass and moved towards her.

He was tallish, perhaps not quite six feet, but broad and well muscled, heavier than she remembered him but with the sleek heaviness of a big cat, all controlled power and rippling masculinity. His hair was dark, almost black, and fell forwards over his brow. It was shorter than it had been—it always used to fall over his eyes, but nearly eight years could bring a lot of changes.

There were other changes, too—lines around his eyes and mouth, not just the laughter lines that had always been there but the others that came with maturity, although in his case more likely just with age. His jaw was heavily shadowed but then it always was, even when he had just shaved. It was typical of his blatant sexuality that he had always needed to shave twice a day, she remembered with painful clarity.

He reached her then, his brooding, sensual face softened by a smile that cut deep grooves into his cheeks and set his eyes alight, those warm, deep brown eyes that could see right through you and could melt the deepest recesses of your heart—if you let them.

Annie had, once—long, long ago—but never again. She turned away.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, her voice rough with shock.

‘I thought you’d know all about it—Jo asked me.’

Jo—of course. Jo had a thing about old friends, especially the ones who’d all lived together in their student days. She was always trying to get them together again—and Annie was always trying to avoid it. Until now she’d succeeded, but now—well, now Jake was here, just inches away from her, churning up all the old, long-buried feelings that she’d hoped she’d forgotten. Oh, God, don’t let it be true, she prayed.

But it was true. She could feel him behind her, his body almost pulsating with life and vitality, coming off him like waves and lapping round her, unsettling all her carefully created status quo and seeping through the cracks in her defences. She almost laughed. Defences? Against Jake?

‘No hug for your old friend?’ he said softly, and suddenly there was a roaring in her ears as the waves came in over her head, swamping her.

The last thing she was aware of was the strength of his arms around her and the familiar scent of his aftershave, mingled with something elementally male and definitely Jake. With a soft sigh, she sagged against him and sank slowly into blackness.

His body was hard and strong and achingly familiar, and against her ear his heart beat steadily. Anne allowed herself a couple of seconds of self-indulgence before she opened her eyes and lifted her head from his chest.

That was a very flattering welcome,’ he said gently, his eyes smiling.

Annie struggled to sit up, but his arms were still holding her and he wouldn’t let her go.

Take it steady,’ he cautioned, and then, releasing her, he eased her from his arms and stood up, leaving her on the big, soft chair in the corner of Sister’s office.

‘I’m tired,’ she said defensively. ‘I was up most of the night.’

‘So I gather—you should have called for help.’

She laughed humourlessly. ‘I’m an SHO—they’re expendable. Anyway, I didn’t know it was you.’

He met her eyes, and all the laughter was gone from his. ‘Is seeing me again really such bad news?’

Annie looked down at her hands, then back at him, making herself meet those gentle, searching eyes. ‘I’m not the person I was, Jake,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s been nearly eight years—things are different now. We aren’t at college any more, and I—I have responsibilities.’

‘Your daughter—Jo tells me she’s delightful.’

Anne looked away, unable suddenly to meet his eyes. ‘Yes—yes, she’s a real joy to me.’

Jake shifted, moving to the window to stare out at the light scattering of snow that blanketed the countryside behind the hospital.

‘Why didn’t you marry Duncan?’ he asked, his voice carefully casual.

Her heart crashed against her ribs. ‘I decided it wasn’t fair,’ she said carefully. ‘I didn’t love him the way I——’ She stopped herself in the nick of time.

‘The way you should?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed readily. ‘And it seemed unfair to a baby to have such a shaky start. My parents were very supportive.’

‘I would have married you, Annie, even though she wasn’t mine.’

She drew in a sharp breath. I must tell him, but not now, she thought frantically. Not here, in the hospital in front of anybody who walks in, and not now, out of the blue after all these years.