The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal (17 page)

Her first port of call was Luke’s mother. She leaned her bicycle against the wall outside the town house and rang the bell, her heart thudding in her chest, nerves clenching her stomach. There was no sign of Luke’s car there either, so she presumed he had already gone home, but she decided she wanted, needed, to see Sadie.

The front door opened and the plump, kindly woman greeted her with a warm smile. ‘Francesca! Come on in, lass. How lovely to see you.’

‘Thank you.’

Adrenalin from the events of the morning had so far prevented the tiredness after a long and busy night shift from catching up with her. She politely declined more coffee, having drunk two cups at Annie’s, but she was tempted by some of Sadie’s delicious home baking, this time some fresh oatcakes spread with honey.

‘I was looking for Luke,’ she admitted after a few moments, feeling awkward. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘He stopped in earlier. I gather there was some bother at the hospital this morning,’ Sadie responded with an understanding smile, gathering up Freya and giving the purring cat a cuddle.

Francesca nodded, unsure how much this woman knew. Sadie was pretty shrewd. ‘Did Luke get into trouble? Was everything all right?’

‘He’s fine. I’m sure he will tell you all about it himself. He had a couple of chores to run but I expect he’s home by now.’

‘Then he’s probably asleep.’ Francesca tried to smile to hide her disappointment. ‘I’ll catch up with him at work tonight.’

Sadie’s own smile was full of affection and amusement. ‘I think Luke would much rather see you now—even if that means you waking him up.’

‘Oh…’

A gentle hand rested against her cheek. ‘I believe things happen for a reason. Breaking my arm was meant to be because it led me to you and you brought Luke home,’ the older woman said, startling her. ‘I always wished I could have done more years ago to have made life easier for you as a child.’

‘I think you had enough to contend with,’ Francesca offered.

‘Maybe. But I hated to see you so cut off. I’ve always looked on you as the daughter I never had, Francesca.’

The words warmed Francesca and brought a sting of tears to her eyes when she thought back to her youth and her longing for this woman to be her real mother. ‘And I often dreamed you were my mother. It made me feel better,’ she admitted with a tremulous smile that brought an answering shimmer of moisture to Sadie’s eyes.

‘I’ve vowed not to interfere, but I have to tell you, Francesca, that I’ve always thought you and Luke belonged together. And if you decide being with him is right for you, nothing would make me happier than gaining you as part of my family.’

‘Thank you.’

To know that Sadie had cared about her—that she
still
cared about her—filled Francesca with warmth and joy. She welcomed Sadie’s hug, fighting back the emotion that threatened to spill over, pondering Sadie’s belief that things happened for a reason and the events that had brought her and
Luke back together. Knowing she had his mother’s blessing just made her feel even more complete, even luckier and more blessed.

‘Now,’ Sadie said, pulling back and wiping her eyes, ‘you go and sort things out with that son of mine.’

There was nothing Francesca wanted more, so she set a fast pace as she cycled through the outskirts of town and down the country lane towards Luke’s cottage—the cottage he had bought because he had remembered it was her dream. She was more sure in her heart than she had ever been that what she was doing was right. For the first time she felt real peace, knowing what she really wanted, knowing what she should have known from the first…that she couldn’t live without Luke.

Her heart skipped a beat when the cottage came into view. It was still her dream home and right now it contained the man she loved, had always loved. Luke’s car was outside and her pulse was racing, anticipation nearly overwhelming her as she rang the front doorbell.

It was some time before he answered, and when he did, dressed only in a pair of unfastened jeans, his feet and chest bare, his dark blond hair tousled, it took a moment for her to stop staring and remember how to breathe.

‘Hi.’

‘Chessie.’

He sounded defensive and wary. It wasn’t the greeting she had hoped for and her fragile confidence slipped. She heard muffled noises from inside the house and thought her heart might actually stop. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t alone.’

‘That’s all right.’ Something she couldn’t recognise flashed in his green eyes. ‘Would you mind going round the side and coming in the garden door?’

‘OK,’ she managed, so taken aback and numb that she did as he’d asked rather than jump back on her bicycle and get
the hell out of there, as instinct demanded. Did Luke not want her here after all? Had she made a big mistake about everything?

Wondering what was going on, and what—or who—Luke was hiding, Francesca walked down the gravel path to the gate, pausing to wipe suddenly damp palms on her jeans before she opened the gate and stepped into the garden, closing the gate behind her. Nearly paralysed with nerves, she had only taken a few unsteady steps towards the back door of the cottage, uncertain what she would find, when two black blurs appeared from nowhere and barrelled into her, knocking her on her rear on the grass.

For a moment she couldn’t believe her eyes and then she was buried under two over-enthusiastic Newfoundland dogs, both trying to welcome her at the same time, tongues lolling and tails wagging madly. In disbelief, she hugged Murphy and Harry, the realisation sinking in that they were
here,
in the considerable flesh, which meant Luke had to have been the one to rehome them. The man was full of surprises. Scarcely realising that she was crying with happiness, she tried to wrestle herself free so that she could find Luke and tell him what she had come to say, her stupid, groundless fears at what was going on and who he had in the house long forgotten, lost in the exuberance of her joy.

Uncertain why Francesca had come, and hardly daring to hope it might be for the reasons he dreamed of, Luke headed through the house in time to find her flat on the grass and being greeted by Murphy and Harry. He couldn’t help laughing at the sight of her as she struggled to sit up and hug both huge dogs at once, tears sliding down her face as fast as her canine companions could lick them away.

‘Come on, guys,’ he complained, bringing them to order. ‘I’d kind of like a turn at greeting Chessie myself.’

It took a few moments, but he finally had the woman he loved back on her feet and, best of all, in his arms.

‘You homed them!’ she cried, laughing through her tears.

‘I fell for them and would have taken them anyway,’ he told her, restoring some order to her rumpled clothes and the wayward shambles of her fiery curls. ‘But I did it for you. For us. What I hoped would be the start of our family.’

She hugged him tight. ‘Oh, Luke.’

For a few moments he just held her, Murphy and Harry dancing around them. ‘I couldn’t find you at the hospital,’ he murmured, breathing in her flowery fragrance, hearing the edge of worry and uncertainty in his own voice.

‘I went to Annie’s. I needed to think.’ She paused, drawing back to look at him through grey eyes misted with tears. ‘Then I saw your mother.’

Luke held his breath, recognising a new inner calmness radiating from her and hardly daring to believe it might mean what he thought it did…what he wanted it to. As impatient as he was, he forced himself to keep outwardly calm, although his heart was thudding and his stomach felt knotted with tension, and he kept silent, giving her time and space to speak. But he couldn’t stop touching her, and while he waited, one hand stroked the silken mass of her hair while the fingertips of his other hand found the gap between the waistband of her jeans and the hem of her top and slowly carressed her soft, warm skin.

‘I’m not at all sure I deserve you.’ When he opened his mouth to protest, she pressed her fingers to his lips, cutting off his words. ‘But,’ she continued, her voice throaty from emotion and her tears, ‘I hope to spend the rest of my life trying to prove that I do…loving you, supporting you, being your partner in everything and in every way, just as you have always been for me.’

His breath rushed out in a sigh of relief, and his heart swelled until he thought it would burst. ‘Chessie…’

‘I love you, Luke. I always have. I’m sorry it took me so long to see, to understand. But I’m here now—if you want me.’

‘Of course I want you, you idiot woman!’ he exclaimed with amused and loving exasperation, his mind already filling with his oft-dreamed-of image of half a dozen mini-Chessies with flame-red hair, freckles and silver-grey eyes.

He had wanted her admission that she needed him as much as he needed her, wanted her acknowledgement and understanding that what they had was a partnership, that it was about sharing, about not only friendship but trust and love, too. Now he finally had what he’d so desperately wished for…Francesca’s total commitment.

He wanted her in all the ways there were, would never get enough of her, was determined never to let her go and never to let her down. Somehow he had managed to break down her barriers, to cut through the reserve that kept her from giving of herself. Francesca now realised that being together could make the whole more than the sum of the separate parts, that together they could do anything.

The amethyst ring he had bought her sat in its box in a desk drawer in his study. One day he would slide it on her finger, sealing their promise to each other. But he was in no hurry to rush her to that, not now he had her heart. Life would always be different and special with Francesca. When the time was right, they’d likely go and get married on a beach somewhere, just the two of them. Whatever she wanted was fine with him.

Just the two of them…the way it had been in the past and would now be for the rest of their lives from this point on. And that was all that mattered to him. What they had was special, unique. She belonged to him as he belonged to her…for ever.

‘I’ll spend the next fifty or sixty years loving you as I’ve always yearned to and as you deserve to be loved,’ he promised her, the emotion of the moment affecting him. ‘Starting now.’

She held him off as he moved in to kiss her. ‘I’m covered in dog slobber and my bum’s wet from sitting on the rain-soaked grass,’ she complained with a mock pout, love and laughter shining in her eyes. ‘And I need sleep—we have another night shift ahead of us.’

‘Then I’d better take you indoors for a shower and put you to bed.’

‘Mmm,’ she responded, a naughty grin forming at his offer. ‘Yes, please.’

Needing no further encouragement, Luke swung her into his arms and strode towards the cottage. As Murphy and Harry settled on their beds by the kitchen range, he carried Francesca to the bedroom. He had plans for her…plans that would last a lifetime.

There was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be than in Luke’s arms. Smiling through her tears, she clung to his shoulders, burying her face against his neck, breathing in his masculine scent and tasting his skin with her tongue.

He set her down, the fire of desire in his green eyes as he slowly stripped off her clothes while she set to work on his jeans. And then they were under the spray of the shower and she was locked in his familiar embrace, meeting and matching the heady passion of his kiss. It was like coming home. Where she belonged.

As their bodies came together in urgent fulfilment and expression of their promises to and love for each other, Francesca knew that Luke needed her as much as she needed him. They were meant to be together. They always had been.

Now—finally—after all they had each been through growing up, and after ten years apart, they had found each other again. This was
their
time.

Luke had claimed her. Claimed her heart, her soul and her very being, as she had claimed his. The past was gone and ahead lay the future, one they would spend together, as one unit, stronger and safer, and secure in their love…for ever.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-3966-5

THE REBEL SURGEON’S PROPOSAL

First North American Publication 2009

Copyright © 2009 by Margaret McDonagh

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