Fiona Harper - Snowkissed! - The Midwife's Marriage Proposal

‘But—’

‘Hush, Bry,’ Sally said quietly, reaching out and squeezing her friend’s shoulder to reassure her. ‘Oliver’s right. It’s fine.’

And it was fine. She was totally in control.

She’d always known that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Tom. And she didn’t want to.

What she wanted was to work and live in a community alongside him and not feel anything.

Bryony rubbed her fingers over her temples, visibly stressed, and Oliver glanced towards the door where Tom was leaning, listening to the exchange in silence, his handsome face devoid of expression.

He’d removed his leathers to reveal a pair of snugly fitting jeans and a black jumper that simply accentuated his masculine looks.

He looked dark and dangerous and just about as sexy as it was possible for a man to be.

‘I can’t understand why you use the motorbike in winter.’ Oliver’s tone was mild. ‘It’s freezing out there and it worries Mum.’

‘I’ve been worrying Mum since I was able to walk,’ Tom drawled, strolling to the fridge and helping himself to a bottle of beer. ‘And I like the fresh air. Good evening, Bryony.’

Ignoring the irony in his tone, Bryony glared at him and Oliver sighed.

‘You’re destroying the atmosphere of my dinner party,’ he said mildly. ‘Sort it out, bro, or we’ll all get indigestion.’

‘I intend to sort it out.’ Tom pushed the fridge door shut, his eyes on Sally. ‘So what do you say, Sally? Can we work together and socialize together without creating an atmosphere?’

Sally tensed, her fingers gripping the stem of her wineglass so tightly that it was in danger of snapping.

He stepped towards her, his gaze only for her. ‘My sister thinks you should hit me. So do it, Sally.’

She felt smothered by his closeness, by his overwhelming masculinity. She took a deep breath and then wished she hadn’t because his tantalizing male smell filled her head and clouded her senses. She had only to lift a hand to touch him but she kept both hands firmly by her sides and stared at the floor.

She decided to let him speak. If she let him speak then he’d leave her alone.

‘I don’t want to hit you.’

‘You should. It would make Bryony feel better. And stop looking at the floor.’ Tom lifted his hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘I want you to look at me.’

Startled by his touch, she stood without moving, staring into her past, feeling the brush of his fingers on her sensitized skin.

She’d loved this man so much.

‘I’m sorry, Sally.’ His voice softened with genuine regret. ‘Sorry for hurting you so badly.’

Those blue eyes drew her in and she struggled against the powerful sexual attraction that still existed between them.

With a monumental effort she broke the contact. First the emotional, then the physical.

Shutting herself down, she stepped backwards.

‘You did what you believed was right,’ she said lightly, managing what she hoped was a dignified smile. ‘And it’s in the past. Oliver’s right—we’ve all moved on. The future is what’s important now.’

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.