The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal (10 page)

‘You were there when Annie was hurt, weren’t you, Francesca?’ Conor queried, helping Rebecca with her drink. ‘It must have been frightening.’

She met Luke’s gaze and noted his concern. ‘Yes, it was at the time. Nathan was wonderful and saved Annie’s life, keeping her with us until the senior consultant on duty, Robert Mowbray, could do the emergency thoracotomy.’

They talked about the incident for a while and then about Seb and Gina’s upcoming wedding in May, which led on to talk about Conor and Kate’s honeymoon. Rebecca wriggled off her chair and went to the fridge, proudly pointing out the photos, stuck on with magnets, of the orphaned elephant they had heard so much about.

Francesca was amazed how quickly the time went and she found herself relaxing. Rebecca, having overcome her initial shyness, chattered away, charming them all. As they moved to the sitting room after lunch, the little girl gravitated to Luke, climbing onto his lap, giggling as he teased her gently and tickled her.

Seeing Luke with Rebecca pulled at Francesca’s heartstrings and tugged at some previously unknown maternal
thread inside her. She hadn’t thought about children, had not imagined she would have them. A relationship had never been in her plans. And her mother, devoid of any nurturing gene, had hardly been the ideal role model. Looking at him with the little girl, she knew instinctively that Luke would be an amazing father. A sudden longing curled deep within her, scaring her. She was getting in too deep. Alarmed at the direction of her thoughts, she excused herself and escaped to the bathroom, giving herself a stern lecture while she was there.

When she returned to the living room a short while later, the French doors were open. Kate was nowhere in sight, while Luke and Conor were outside, kicking a ball around with Rebecca on the lawn. Francesca stepped onto the patio to watch them.

‘Two fine men we have there,’ Kate commented, coming to stand beside her.

Uncomfortable, Francesca sought to set the record straight. ‘Luke and I are friends.’ As she said the words, she wondered who she was trying to convince…Kate or herself.

‘Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but as someone who was once so adamant that I didn’t need anyone and was convinced I wanted to be alone, don’t be too hasty in dismissing what you and Luke have together.’

‘Kate…’

‘I know, it isn’t my business. But whatever you may think now, there’s something special between you,’ she said, sincerity in her words. ‘I can see it just watching you. Luke really cares for you.’

‘We’re old friends,’ Francesca repeated, but even as she spoke she knew something far more simmered beneath the surface, something hot and raw and exciting—but unacknowledged, at least by her.

Kate rested a hand on her arm, the expression in her brown
eyes revealing her understanding. ‘It’s scary at first, but you won’t regret taking the plunge.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I’ve been through a lot in the past, and I know how easy it is to keep people at arm’s length, that it feels safer than ever trusting anyone again. But when it’s right, it is so worth taking that leap of faith. All I’m saying is give Luke—and yourself—a chance,’ her new friend advised. ‘Don’t make the mistake I so nearly did and throw away something rare and wonderful. I nearly lost Conor because I didn’t believe…not in myself or my right to be happy…but thankfully he did and he refused to give up on me. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Francesca. Luke could be the same for you. When it’s the right person, your fears fade away.’

Unsure what to say, Francesca remained silent, thankful when Kate moved back into the house. Alone once more, she watched as Conor and Luke reduced Rebecca to breathless laughter. There were similarities between the two men, but Conor’s moss-green eyes were darker than Luke’s, and while their hair was the same shade, Luke’s was longer, more rakish and tousled. Luke was also two or three inches taller than Conor, although both shared an athletic build, strong and leanly muscled.

Conor was laid-back with an easygoing nature and ready humour. That he and Kate were deeply in love was obvious from every look and every touch. Francesca felt a peculiar sense of envy. She’d never wanted to be close to anyone, but seeing Conor and Kate together stirred something within her. As did interacting with Rebecca. Those previously dormant maternal instincts were slowly awakening in the little girl’s presence, confusing her even more.

As for Luke, in character he was much more complex than
Conor. There was a hint of danger about him, an air of the bad boy that Francesca had always been attracted to, an edge that called to everything feminine inside her, tempting the repressed good girl she had been in her teens to rebel.

Her musings were cut short as Kate returned to the patio with a tray of tea. She set it on the table and called the others to join them. Francesca sat down, enjoying the views down to the Solway Firth, pleased it was warm enough for them to sit outside. Rebecca came running up, taking a long drink of her milk before setting her beaker back on the table. Francesca smiled as the girl turned to face her.

‘I love your hair,’ Rebecca told her, moving closer.

‘Thank you. Yours is beautifully shiny, like your mother’s.’

Rebecca nodded, nibbling her lip. ‘Can I touch it?’

‘OK.’ Taken aback, she looked up, finding Luke watching her as he stood in the garden with Conor.

Luke watched as Rebecca talked to Francesca. The child seemed fascinated with Francesca’s hair, taking a strand in her fingers, straightening it and letting go, giggling as it sprang back into its wayward corkscrew curl again. Not that he blamed Rebecca. That wild mass of fiery flame fascinated him, too, and he longed to run his fingers through it, to feel it against his skin, to see it spread out in wild abandon across his pillow.

‘You OK?’ Conor asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

‘Yeah.’ He nodded but didn’t take his gaze off Francesca. ‘I was just imagining half a dozen little Chessie replicas with clouds of red hair and big grey eyes,’ he admitted, glancing at Conor. ‘You’re very lucky.’

The other man nodded, his own gaze on Kate. ‘And I know it, believe me. I give thanks every day. So, what’s the story with you and Francesca?’ he asked after a reflective pause.

‘We knew each other at school. Our backgrounds were very different but we both had family issues, were both loners who sort of gravitated together. Chessie was bullied a lot and I tried to step in and watch over her. Then circumstances parted us and I lost track of her when she moved away,’ he explained, telling Conor how his mother’s freak accident had led to the discovery that Francesca had returned to Strathlochan.

‘So you left the prof’s team and came rushing back.’

‘I did,’ he admitted with a wry chuckle, knowing how foolish his actions must seem to others. ‘Part of me knows it was crazy. We’d not seen each other in ten years. I’d only kissed her once. But I just know deep inside that it’s right.’

‘Then you did the best thing,’ Conor confirmed, understanding and supportive.

Luke was silent for a moment, watching Francesca, knowing how nervous she had been. It was so good to see her relaxed and enjoying herself. ‘The tough job is breaking through her barriers and persuading her we’re better together than we are apart.’

‘Been there, got the T-shirt.’ Conor smiled and they started walking back to join the others on the patio. ‘Don’t give up, Luke. Believe me, it’s worth the effort.’

Conor’s advice boosted his morale. Watching Conor with Kate and Rebecca made him envious. He wanted what they had. And he wanted it with Francesca.

It was early evening before they left the Andersons’ home, turning down an invitation to stay for dinner because they had to be at work the next morning and Luke knew Francesca didn’t want to be late back. After protracted goodbyes, because Rebecca was sorry to see them leave, they set off along the country lanes towards Strathlochan. Francesca seemed content to doze, so Luke took some moments alone with his thoughts to reflect on the last couple of days.

The time spent with Francesca at the rescue centre and walking in the grounds of Strathlochan Castle yesterday had been precious. He felt he knew so much more about the inner woman and all she had overcome. And he loved her for her passion for animals, especially the dogs. He’d fallen for them, too.

Today had been better than he’d hoped. Conor and Kate were an inspirational couple. He’d been affected by spending time with them, and he could only hope that experiencing their home and relationship at close quarters would convince Francesca that the way they had grown up was unusual. Conor’s support had encouraged him and seeing the young family had whetted his appetite for a happy home of his own.

As they were approaching Strathlochan, he woke Francesca up. ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he said, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle shake.

‘Hi,’ she murmured after a moment, slowly opening her eyes and sitting up straight. ‘Where are we?’

‘Nearly back home. Do you want to stop and pick up some food?’

She shook her head, causing her curls to shimmer like licks of flame. ‘I’m not sure I can eat much more after that lovely lunch. I have some salad in the fridge.’

‘OK.’

Taking that as an invitation, whether she had meant it as one or not, Luke drove back to Francesca’s flat. He followed her inside, helping her assemble a salad with some cold chicken, adding rocket, watercress, tomato, cucumber and a few other bits before putting some coffee on to brew while she gathered plates, cutlery and glasses.

‘Thanks for coming with me today,’ he said when they sat to eat their meal.

‘I enjoyed it.’ He heard the surprise and edge of confusion in her voice and hid a smile. ‘They’re nice people.’

Luke nodded. ‘They are. Rebecca’s going to break a lot of hearts when she grows up.’

‘Kate says Conor has decreed Rebecca’s not allowed to date until she’s thirty!’

Her laugh was infectious and good to hear. Luke joined in, knowing he’d feel as protective as Conor if he was lucky enough to have daughters with Francesca. Their meal over, knowing it was a risk but needing to move things on and lead up to asking her about next weekend, Luke angled his chair so he was facing her.

‘You don’t date much. Why?’ he asked, sensing her tension as she looked away, shrugging her shoulders.

‘I’m busy with work.’ She flicked him a quick glance and retreated again. ‘Besides, I’ve never looked for a relationship. I’m better on my own.’

He frowned. Although this was what he’d suspected, he ached for her aloneness, and knew the challenge he would face to gain acceptance into her life. ‘And sex?’

‘I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you mean.’

Thank goodness—or she’d be shocked stupid by the things he wanted to do with her. Not that he told her that. Yet. The boldness of her words were not matched by the tone of her voice or the expression in her silver-grey eyes. He wasn’t fooled for a moment by her tough-girl act. And while the thought of any other man touching her made him wild with jealousy, he’d bet a whole lot that her experience hadn’t been great because she certainly didn’t radiate the aura of a well-satisfied woman, taken to the heights of pleasure from long hours of loving. Not now. But he hoped that she would before too much longer. This time he did smile, he couldn’t help it, imagining her begging him to take her to places she’d never been before.

‘What’s funny?’ she demanded, rising to her feet and setting the plates noisily on the drainer, her temper obvious.

‘Nothing, Chessie.’ He moved next to her and slid a hand along the creamy smooth skin of her neck, the pad of his thumb picking up the acceleration of her pulse at her throat. ‘I can assure you that I’m taking this very seriously.’

He felt her swallow. ‘Luke…’

‘I know you feel the chemistry between us.’

Indecision clouded her eyes but he forced himself to wait. It had taken all the patience he possessed to go slowly these last days when all he had wanted was to sweep her up in his arms and make love to her with everything in him, to bind her to him for ever. She was skittish, he knew about the issues of the past, and he didn’t want to rush her, but his patience only stretched so far. He thought of Conor’s advice and knew he had to play this carefully, pressing her forward but not so far she bolted.

‘Tell me what’s worrying you,’ he coaxed, lowering his voice, his thumb soothing slow circles on her silky skin, stepping closer so he could breathe in her subtle flowery fragrance. ‘What’s scaring you about exploring what we have?’

‘I don’t do relationships. And I don’t want to lose your friendship,’ she admitted after another long pause, her voice unsteady.

He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes—so she could look into his and see that he meant what he said. ‘You’ll
never
lose me, Chessie. But I would like more than friendship. I want us to be together.’

‘How do you know it won’t spoil everything?’

‘How do you know it will?’ he countered, knowing she had fears he’d yet to fully understand but desperate to set them to rest.

She shook her head as if at a loss for a reply.

‘I care about you, Chessie,’ he told her, keeping back the full extent of his feelings so he didn’t pressure her too much.
‘We have so much in common. We don’t trust many people, but we trust each other. We’re independent. We understand each other and what we faced—from inside the home and outside it—as no one else can. We never fit in with other people, not totally, yet we’re right together. We’ve both come back here to prove to ourselves that we can…and to show others that we made it.’

Everything Luke said was true. Their roots may have grown in different soil but once above the surface they had faced similar conditions in terms of weathering the ostracism and neglect. Throughout it all, as unusual as their association had been, they’d had each other…until Luke had left. No matter how much she told herself otherwise, she’d never forgotten him, had thought about him all the time throughout the ten long years since she had last seen him.