Louisa George - Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal

But he didn’t want to be with her either. Right now he didn’t even want to breathe the same air as her. Not after this.

A difficult silence wrapped around them like the foggy December day outside.

Her hand covered his. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sean. I’m sorry for leaving you to wonder all those years.’

‘Yeah. Well, so you should be. Keep out of my way, Isabel. I mean it. Keep out of my way.’ And without so much as looking at her again he stalked out of the room.

‘You’ve had a major operation and a big shock to your body. Three units of blood. That’s an awful lot to get over.’ Isabel gave Susan Patterson what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Twenty-four hours post-op many patients felt as if they’d been hit by a truck. But because they always, always put their babies first they tried to recover far too quickly. ‘The good news is, you’re making an excellent recovery. Your blood pressure is stable and your blood results are fine. We’re going to move you from High Dependency back to the ward so you can be in with the other mums, and we’ll bring baby up to be with you. He’s ready to leave SCBU now. Between you both you’ve kept us on our toes, but things are definitely on the way up. He’s a little fighter, that one.’

‘He’s got a good set of lungs, I’ll give him that.’ Susan gave a weak smile back. Kicking back the covers, she tried to climb out of bed. But when her feet hit the floor she grabbed onto the bed table for stability. She was still a little pale, and Isabel made a note to keep an eye on that. It wasn’t just haemoglobin she needed to watch, it was Susan’s desire to do too much too soon.

‘Hey, there’s no hurry. Rest easy. I’ll ask a nurse to come help you have a shower. That scar’s in a tricky place, so you need to support it when you move. And remember, Caesareans do take longer to recover from, so don’t expect too much from yourself.’ Glancing at the chart, she realised Susan’s baby was still listed as Baby Patterson. ‘Have you thought of a name for that gorgeous wee boy yet?’

Doing as she was told, Susan sat down on the side of the bed; a little more colour crept into her cheeks. ‘We had thought about something Christmassy like Joseph or Noel, but as he was early we had to change all that. If he’d been a girl I’d have called him Isabel.’ Her cheeks pinked more. ‘After you, because you did such a great job of saving us both. But instead we thought we’d choose Isaac. It has the Is in it—and that’ll remind us of you. I guess you get that all the time?’

Isabel felt her smile blossom from the inside. ‘Actually, not very often at all. It’s very nice of you. Thank you. I’m honoured.’

‘Oh, and Sean as a middle name. After Dr Anderson.’

Sean. Of course. Why not? She forced the smile to stay in place. ‘Oh. Lovely. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.’

And she’d got through ten whole minutes without thinking about him, just to be reminded all over again.

Last night had been filled with internal recriminations that had intensified in direct proportion to her wine consumption. From: she should have told him years ago, to … she was glad she’d kept that pain from him, to … how dared he be so angry? She’d been the one going through the miscarriage. She could choose who she disclosed that information to.

But the way he’d looked at her had hurt the most. He’d shut down. Shut her out. The light and the vibrancy that she’d always seen in him had been extinguished. He hadn’t even been able to look at her. And that had been her fault.

And now … now that she thought about it, she realised that he had a very disturbing effect on her. Even after all the intervening years she still found just looking at him made her mouth water, made her heart ache for more. Thinking about that kiss made her …

‘Isabel? Dr Delamere?’

‘Oh, sorry. I was miles away.’ Now she couldn’t even focus on her job properly. First and last time she’d let that happen. It was Maggie, one of the ward clerks. ‘I have a message from Jacob. He wants to see you in his office, as soon as you can.’

‘Oh, fine, thank you.’ Isabel turned to excuse herself from her patient. ‘I’m sorry, Susan, but Jacob’s the boss around here, so I’d better get going. I’m off to Paris tomorrow for a conference with him. But I’m so glad we managed to get you on the road to recovery before I go.’

‘Paris? Lucky you.’ The new mum looked almost wistful.

‘No. You have a husband and a lovely family. I’d say you are the luckier woman right now.’ Isabel tried to put all thoughts of Sean out of her mind. Once upon a faraway innocent time she’d dreamt of having what Susan had: a husband and family. But the thought of risking her heart again left her more than cold. Terrified, in fact. She just knew she couldn’t survive that kind of loss again.

So seven days away from Sean would be the perfect antidote. She could lose herself in the bright lights and the Christmas markets and the lovely amazingness that she’d heard Paris was—oh, yes, and she had work to do, at least, for the first few days. ‘I’ll pop in this evening, Susan, to make sure you’re okay before I head off. In the meantime, be good and rest up.’

Thinking about which boots to take with her to Paris … and deciding, oh, what the hell, she’d take all three pairs … she sauntered along the corridor to Jacob Layton’s office. She was just about to tap under the Head Obstetrician sign on his door when she heard voices. Two men. Not happy.

What should she do? Knock and enter? Wait?

Ah, whatever, she’d been summoned, so she knocked.

‘Isabel.’ Jacob opened the door with a frown. He seemed flustered. Not his more recent relaxed self, but more a throwback to the days when he used to have the nurses quaking in their boots. Maybe things hadn’t been going so smoothly with him and Bonnie. But they seemed fine, beyond happy even. Or … worst-case scenario, maybe he was sick again? The man had a habit of keeping too much to himself and not allowing others to share the load.

‘Hi, Jacob.’ Instinctively she put her hand out to his arm. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Fine.’ He stepped back from her hand, looking a little alarmed. No, embarrassed.

‘Are you sure? You look—’

‘I’m absolutely fine. In all respects.’ Not one to expand on anything personal, he gestured her to come into the office. ‘But I need to talk to you … both.’ He nodded towards Sean, who was standing at the far side of the office, looking out of the window, hands thrust into his trouser pockets. Everything about Sean’s manner screamed irritation. Anger.

He turned. ‘Isabel.’

‘Sean.’ So they were down to monosyllables. Okay, she could live with that for the next five minutes. But, dang it, her heart had another idea altogether and tripped along merrily at the sight of him standing here in a dark-collared shirt and asset-enhancing charcoal trousers, all grumpy and angry and so very, very gorgeous. Why did he have to look so damned delicious?

He always looked delicious to her, she realised, with a sudden pang in her tummy. Even when he was angry. But that wasn’t important, couldn’t be important.

‘Look. You’re not going to like what I’m going to say. So …’ Jacob beckoned them both to sit down ‘… I’m just going to cut to the chase, here.’

‘Why? What’s the problem?’ Something inside Isabel’s gut tumbled and tumbled. She looked from Jacob to Sean and back again.

Sean shrugged. ‘We are. Apparently.’

Jacob shook his head. ‘I’m sorry to say, I need to talk to you about an incident yesterday. An argument, between the two of you.’

Blood rushed to her cheeks. Isabel couldn’t believe it. She’d never had so much as a frown about her behaviour, never mind being involved in an ‘incident’, as if she’d been rude or unprofessional or worse. It had been a private conversation, opening her very shattered heart. ‘Someone complained about it? A patient?’