that same charming smile.
And Rosie felt thoroughly in the wrong.
But Leo had already turned away and it was too late to call him back and explain.
* * *
Why was Rosie Hobbes so prickly with him? Leo wondered. Everyone else at Paddington Children’s Hospital had seemed pleased that he’d joined the team and had welcomed him warmly. Everyone except Rosie.
Did she hate all men?
Possibly not, because earlier he’d seen her talking to Thomas Wolfe, the cardiology specialist, and she’d seemed perfectly relaxed.
And why was he so bothered when she was just one member of the team? Wherever you worked, there was always a spectrum: people you got on really well with, people you liked and people you had to grit your teeth and put up with. He was obviously one of the latter, where Rosie was concerned, even though today was the first time they’d met. He knew he ought to just treat her with the calm professionalism he reserved for people who rubbed him up the wrong way. But he couldn’t help asking about her when he was sitting in the canteen with a couple of the junior doctors and two of the nurses.
‘So Rosie doesn’t usually join you?’ he asked.
‘Not when Penny’s in,’ Kathleen said.
‘Penny?’
‘You must’ve seen her when Robyn took you round,’ Kathleen said. ‘One of our patients. Six years old, brown hair in plaits and the most amazing eyes—grey, with this really distinctive rim?’
Leo shook his head. ‘Sorry. It doesn’t ring a bell.’
‘Well, you’ll definitely get to know her while you’re here. She has heart failure, and she’s been in and out of here for months,’ Kathleen explained. ‘She’s a total sweetheart. Rosie’s one of the nurses who always looks after her. When she’s in on a Monday, Wednesday or Friday, Rosie spends her lunch break reading her ballet stories.’
‘Because the little girl likes ballet, I presume?’ Leo asked.
‘Lives and breathes it. And also it gives her mum or dad a break, depending on who’s taken the time off to be with her,’ Kathleen explained.
‘So Penny’s special to Rosie?’
‘She’s special to all of us,’ Kathleen said. ‘If you’ve seen any drawings pinned up in the staff room or the office, nine times out of ten it’ll be one of Penny’s.’
‘Right.’ Leo wondered why Rosie hadn’t told him that herself. Or maybe she’d thought he’d have a go at her for being unprofessional and showing too much favouritism to a patient.
He chatted easily with the others until the end of their lunch break, then headed back to the ward. The first person he saw was Rosie, who he guessed had just left her little patient.
‘So did Penny enjoy her story?’ he asked.
Colour flooded into her cheeks. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘Kathleen said you have a regular lunch date with her when you’re in.’
‘It gives Julia and Peter—her parents—a chance to get out of here for a few minutes to get some fresh air,’ she said. ‘And it isn’t a problem with Robyn.’
So she had thought he’d disapprove of the way she spent her lunch break. ‘It’s very kind of you,’ he said. Was it just because Penny was a favourite with the staff, or did Rosie maybe have a sister who’d gone through something similar? It was too intrusive to ask. He needed to tread carefully with Rosie or she’d back away from him again.
‘She’s a lovely girl.’
‘Maybe you can tell me about her after work,’ he said. ‘I hear there’s a nice pub across the road. The Frog and...?’ He paused, not remembering the name.
‘Peach,’ she supplied. ‘Sorry. I can’t.’
Can’t or won’t? he wondered. ‘Another previous engagement?’
‘Actually, yes.’
Another patient? He didn’t think she’d tell him. ‘That’s a shame. Some other time.’
But she didn’t suggest a different day or time.
He really ought to just give up.
A couple of his new colleagues had already made it clear that they’d be happy to keep him company if he was lonely. It could be fun to take them up on their offers, as long as they understood that he didn’t do permanent relationships.
Except there was something about Rosie Hobbes that drew him. It wasn’t just that she was one of the few women who didn’t respond to him; his ego could stand the odd rejection. But she intrigued him, and he couldn’t work out why. Was it that she was so different from the women he was used to, women who swooned over him or flattered him because he was a duke? Or was it something deeper?
It had been a long time since someone had intrigued him like this. Something more than just brief sexual attraction. And that in himself made him want to explore it further—to understand what made Rosie tick, and also why he felt this weird pull towards her.
Tomorrow, he thought. He’d try talking to her again tomorrow.
* * *
Rosie was five minutes late from her shift, and the twins were already waiting for her with their backpacks on. They were singing something with Nina, one of the nursery school assistants, who was clearly teaching them actions to go with the song. Rosie felt a rush of love for them. Her twins were so different: Lexi, bouncy and confident, with a mop of blonde curls that reminded Rosie a little too much of Michael, and yet other than that she was the double of Rosie at that age. And Freddie, quieter and a little shy, with the same curls as his sister except mid-brown instead of golden, and her own bright blue eyes; thankfully he hadn’t turned out to be Michael’s double. Rosie was determined that her children were going to know nothing but love and happiness for the rest of their lives—and she really hoped that they wouldn’t remember what life had been like when their father was around.
‘Mummy!’ The second they saw her, Lexi and Freddie rushed over to her and flung their arms round her.
‘My lovely Lexi and Freddie.’ Rosie felt as if she could breathe properly again, now she was back with her babies. Even though she loved her job and she knew the twins were well looked after in the nursery school attached to the hospital, she was much happier with them than she was away from them.
‘So what have you been doing today?’ she asked, holding one hand each as they walked out of the hospital.
‘We singed.’ Lexi demonstrated the first verse of ‘The Wheels on the Bus,’ completely out of tune and at full volume.
‘That’s lovely, darling,’ Rosie said.
‘And we had Play-Doh,’ Freddie added. ‘I maked a doggie. A plurple one.’
Rosie hid a smile at his adorable mispronunciation. ‘Beautiful,’ she said. She knew how badly her son wanted a dog of their own, but it just wasn’t possible with their current lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair to leave a dog alone all day; and she couldn’t leave the twins alone while she took the dog for the kind of long walk it would need after being cooped up all day, and which the twins would be too tired to do after a day at nursery school.
‘We had cookies,’ Lexie said.
‘Chocolate ones. Nina maked them. They were crum—crum—’ Freddie added, frowning when he couldn’t quite remember the new word.
Crumbly? Or maybe a longer word. ‘Nina made them,’ Rosie corrected gently, ‘and they were scrumptious, yes?’ she guessed.
‘Crumshus!’ Lexie crowed. ‘That’s right.’
The twins chattered all