Jennifer Taylor

The GP's Meant-To-Be Bride


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a little twinge deep inside him, not quite pain but something similar, and breathed a little easier. Of course he was upset and, that being the case, it was understandable if he was behaving oddly. He dredged up a smile, forcing his body to downgrade the alert from red to amber.

      ‘I take it that Heather isn’t here?’ he said, addressing himself to Matthew. He was aware in one part of his mind that Gemma had gone to refill Matt’s cup but he didn’t dwell on it. It had no relevance whatsoever to what had happened.

      ‘No. She left last night, caught the last train to London.’ Matt looked at him in despair. ‘I don’t know what she’s going to do there. I mean, she doesn’t know anyone and she has nowhere to live. London’s a big place. Heaven only knows what could happen to a woman on her own…’

      His voice broke and he stared down at the table, overcome by fear for his daughter. Ross wished he could think of something to say, but anything he came up with sounded trite. It was left to Gemma to intervene again. Walking around the table, she laid a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder.

      ‘Heather will be fine. You mustn’t worry about her. She’s bright, resourceful and more than capable of looking after herself.’

      She smiled at the older man, a smile of such compassion that Ross felt his heart ache with longing. All of a sudden he longed for some of that compassion for himself. He wanted Gemma to smile at him and make him feel that everything would be fine and that someone cared. That she cared. The thought startled him so much that he flinched, but thankfully the other two didn’t notice.

      ‘You really think so?’ Matt asked desperately and Gemma nodded, her silky pale hair falling over her cheek for a moment before she tucked it behind her ear.

      ‘Yes, I do. You did a really great job of raising her, Matt, and she isn’t going to go off the rails just because she’s moved to the city.’

      Another smile, another gentle squeeze of the shoulder before she moved away; however, Ross’s eyes remained locked on her. He didn’t want to watch her but he couldn’t stop himself. She picked up the cup and brought it back to the table, and once again her hair fell softly over her face as she bent and placed it in front of Matt. Ross felt his breath catch in anticipation as he waited for her to do it again, tuck that silky, satiny lock of hair behind her ear…

      His whole body went into spasm as he watched her anchor it back into place. Now he could see the delicate curl of her ear, see how small and pale it looked, almost translucent, like a shell that had been washed clean by the sea. Ears had been just ears to him before. He understood their structure and could have explained in simple terms why they were necessary. However, Gemma’s ear—so delicate, so beautiful—was more like a work of art than an anatomical fact. He could have sat there and studied it all day!

      * * *

      Gemma sat down at the table, carefully keeping her eyes on her cup. Ross was staring at her and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. She took a sip of her tea then almost choked as a thought occurred to her: did Ross believe that she’d known Heather had been planning to call off the wedding?

      ‘I had no idea what Heather was going to do.’ She turned to him in dismay. The worst thing was that she actually felt guilty even though she’d had no idea what her friend had been planning. As far as she’d been aware, Heather had been madly in love with Ross, and he with her.

      The thought stung and she rushed on when he failed to answer. ‘It’s true, Ross. I swear, I didn’t know that Heather was going to call off the wedding.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He made a visible effort to collect himself. Picking up his cup, he swallowed some of the tepid tea and grimaced. If there was one thing he loathed it was lukewarm tea.

      ‘Of course it matters,’ Gemma snapped, suddenly angry with him. The least he could do was to be honest. Surely she warranted that much respect? She almost snatched the cup out of his hand and stood up. ‘Heather didn’t tell me, so if you’ve got it into your head that I knew something was wrong but was holding out on you, you can forget it.’

      ‘As I said, it doesn’t matter.’

      There was an answering bite in his voice which was so out of character that Gemma did a double take. He gave her a tight smile, his blue eyes as bright and as cold as sapphires as he stared at her, and she was more convinced than ever that he did believe she’d had a hand in her friend’s decision. ‘The deed’s done, Gemma, so who knew what and when isn’t relevant. What’s important now is that we sort things out with the minimum of distress for everyone concerned.’

      He held her gaze, daring her to proclaim her innocence a third time, but she wasn’t that foolish. Heads connecting with brick walls was a concept she had no intention of investigating at first hand. She smiled sweetly at him, her grey eyes as chilly as she could make them.

      ‘Of course. And it goes without saying that I’ll help any way I can.’

      ‘Thanks, but it’s all covered.’

      He brushed aside her offer of help and Gemma’s mouth compressed. Ross may be every woman’s dream but he could also be her worst nightmare when he got into one of his stubborn moods. He was so focussed that once he got an idea into his head, it was impossible to shift it.

      The thought was less than reassuring. Spinning round, she marched to the counter and switched on the kettle to make a fresh pot of tea. She needed to keep busy and could do with another cup to settle her nerves. As for Ross, well, she really didn’t care if he wanted tea or anything else. No wonder Heather had dumped him. He was so bloody arrogant, so opinionated, so…so…

      Gorgeous, an inner voice suggested before she squashed it. As her grandmother had been fond of saying, handsome is as handsome does. She must remember that the next time she got the collywobbles around Dr Always-Right Mackenzie!

      Gemma was still thinking evil thoughts and enjoying them too when the phone rang. Matthew sighed as he got up. ‘I expect this will be the first of many once the news gets out.’

      There seemed little anyone could say to that so Gemma stayed silent, pouring the boiling water into the pot and popping on the lid. Ross seemed equally disinclined to talk, so she sat down and stared into space while the tea brewed, wondering if she should leave as soon as Matt came back. Ross had made it clear that her help wasn’t needed…

      ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I seem to be all over the place this morning.’

      Her gaze flew to him when he spoke and her heart, not to mention her anger, melted when she saw the bewilderment in his eyes. Ross was always so centred that it was a shock to see him looking this lost. Impulsively, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

      ‘And I’m sorry, too, for being so snappy. I had no right. After all, it’s you who’s suffering. This must be terrible for you, Ross.’

      All of a sudden her eyes filled with tears and she heard him sigh. ‘Don’t upset yourself on my account, Gemma. I’m fine—really, I am.’

      ‘How can you be?’ She dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘You must be in a state of shock—I am. I mean, I love Heather to bits. She’s the best friend anyone could have, but I can’t understand why she’s done this—and to you of all people.’

      She hurried on when she saw his brows rise as he caught the vehemence in her tone. The last thing Ross needed at the moment was her admitting how she felt about him… Correction: the last thing Ross needed was her admitting how she felt about him, ever.

      ‘You two are perfect for each other. You have so much in common between your work and the things you enjoy doing. If I’d had to pick the ideal partner for either of you then I would have chosen Heather for you and you for Heather.’

      ‘That’s what I thought. Heather was perfect. She ticked all the right boxes.’ He broke off, looking a little embarrassed, and Gemma hastened to assure him there was no need.

      ‘And