the shadow of stubble had darkened it. His features were, frankly, uncompromising, the chiselled lines of his nose and jaw adding to the impression of a man who gave few concessions in life. Only his mouth hinted at a gentler side, the full lower lip looking disturbingly sensual. What would it be like to kiss him? Polly wondered. To feel his mouth on hers, hard and demanding at first, before his lips softened...
Heat flashed through her veins and she drew back abruptly, scared by the feelings that thought had aroused. She couldn’t recall feeling this kind of raw desire before, not even when she and Martin had made love. If she was honest, their lovemaking had been a disappointment. Although she’d had a couple of affairs during her time at college, she didn’t have a huge amount of experience and she had wondered if that was why their lovemaking hadn’t lived up to her expectations. Now she realised that it hadn’t been solely her fault and that Martin had been equally to blame. Oh, he might have gone through the motions of making love to her but had his heart been in it when he had met someone else? Someone he had wanted more than her? Polly sighed sadly. A lot of heartache could have been avoided if only Martin had found the courage to tell her the truth. It was a relief when the sound of a mobile phone ringing cut through her unhappy thoughts.
‘Elliot Grey.’ The man pressed a button on the dashboard and answered the call.
‘It’s Sister Thomas, sir. I’m afraid little Alfie Nolan’s condition has deteriorated. Dr Walters wants to take him to Theatre. He feels the faulty heart valve needs to be replaced immediately.’
Polly bit back a gasp as she listened to the conversation. So this was Elliot Grey! Oh, she’d heard about him, of course: who hadn’t? That one of the country’s leading paediatric surgeons had chosen to head up the team at their local hospital had set everyone talking. Polly had been as surprised as everyone else that he had opted to leave London and relocate to Yorkshire, and now that she had met him her amazement knew no bounds. Maybe it was naïve to make such an assumption but surely a man who spent his life caring for the most vulnerable patients should be more, well...approachable?
‘Tell Dr Walters that I shall be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, he’s to do nothing.’ Elliot Grey cut the connection without further ado. Polly suspected that he considered such niceties as saying goodbye a waste of his time. Scrolling down the list of telephone numbers, he selected one, speaking as soon as the call was answered. ‘It’s Elliot Grey. I have to go back to the hospital so I shall need you to stay with my son until I get back, Mrs Danton.’
‘I’m sorry, Dr Grey, but that isn’t possible. I’m looking after my grandchildren this morning while my daughter’s at work and I’m already late as it is,’ Iris Danton replied firmly.
‘Surely your daughter can find someone else to mind them,’ Elliot snapped back. ‘This is an emergency, after all.’
‘Maybe it is, but there’ll be another emergency if my daughter loses her job. No, I stepped in last night to help you but I can’t do it again today.’
With that the woman hung up. Polly sympathised with her because it was a bit rich to expect her to let down her daughter to fit in with Elliot Grey’s plans. However, she also knew how urgent it was that he returned to the hospital and it was that which made her speak up, that and nothing else. It definitely had nothing to do with all those crazy feelings that had swept through her a few minutes earlier.
‘I can mind your son if you’re stuck.’
‘You?’ Elliot Grey turned icy green eyes on her and Polly almost took a step back. She forced herself to stand her ground, wondering why he was so hostile when she was offering to do him a favour.
‘Yes, me. As I told you, I’m the community midwife for this area, so I think you can trust me to take good care of him.’ She shrugged when he just kept on staring at her. ‘My name’s Polly Davies. You can call the maternity unit if you want to check I’m who I say I am. They’ll vouch for me.’
‘I don’t doubt you are who you claim to be, Miss Davies. However, I do wonder why you would offer to look after Joseph. Out of the goodness of your heart, perhaps, or because you have an ulterior motive?’
‘An ulterior motive?’ Polly repeated blankly.
‘Yes. Now that you know who I am, I can’t help but wonder if you’re looking to earn yourself some Brownie points.’ His tone was clipped and Polly felt that shiver run through her again, the one she’d felt earlier when they had first met. It took her all her time not to let him see how much it disturbed her.
‘I’ve no idea what you mean.’
‘No? I thought my views on community midwives were widely known but apparently not. So, to reiterate, I am totally opposed to women having their babies at home, which is the approach you favour. In my opinion every baby should be born in the safety of a fully equipped maternity unit so that any problems can be dealt with promptly. To be blunt, Miss Davies, I would ban you and the rest of your cohorts from delivering any more babies if I could!’
Elliot knew that it had been tactless in the extreme to have said that but he couldn’t stop himself. He had seen far too many damaged children to change his views. Every child should be born in hospital and allowing home births to take place in this day and age was a disgrace, in his opinion. He would have dearly loved to expound his views but a glance at the dashboard clock put paid to that. He needed to get back to the hospital, but how could he when there was nobody to look after Joseph...? Unless he took Polly Davies up on her offer, always assuming she was still willing after him shooting her down like that.
‘I had no idea you held such stringent views, Dr Grey. Obviously, they haven’t filtered through to me. However, much as I would love to debate the points you raised, I doubt if this is the right time. My offer still stands and, no, I don’t expect any Brownie points for looking after your son. I’m not that naïve.’
‘Thank you.’ Elliot gritted his teeth, desperately trying to hold back the apology that hovered on the tip of his tongue. That he should feel the need to apologise when he knew he was right was shock enough; however, the fact that he was so desperate to make amends was an even bigger one. What was it about this woman that made him feel so out of control? he wondered as he started the car. She had the ability to make him doubt himself and he didn’t enjoy the experience. He liked to be fully in control of himself—no, not liked, needed. It made him feel safe.
Elliot drove that disturbing thought from his head, not wanting her to suspect how on edge he felt. ‘I suggest you follow me home so I can introduce you to Joseph. I’ve bought the old blacksmith’s cottage in Trefoil Lane—do you know it?’
‘Yes,’ she replied succinctly then turned away. Going over to her car, she started the engine, not waiting for him as she set off.
Elliot slid the powerful car into gear, curbing the urge to put his foot down and overtake her when they reached the open road. So she didn’t need him to lead the way—so what? If she was trying to prove her independence then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone except Joseph. The strange thing was that, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, it didn’t ring true. Deep down inside, in some long-abandoned place, he did care. He cared a lot, cared about her opinion of him. Foolish though he knew it was, he didn’t want Polly Davies to think badly of him.
* * *
It was almost nine a.m. when Polly drew up outside The Old Smithy, as the cottage was known locally. She could hear the clock on Beesdale Church chiming the hour as she got out of the car and sighed. By rights she should have been on the train by now, but what else could she have done in the circumstances? Elliot Grey needed her help even if he had been less than gracious about accepting it. Did he honestly think that she had been trying to worm her way into his good books by offering to mind his son? she thought as she walked up the path. Well, if that were the case, he was in for a shock. He might think he was next to God in the pecking order but he was a long way from being that, in her opinion!
‘Come along. I need to get back to the hospital as soon as possible.’
The subject of her