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'Men don't have the advantage of feminine intuition,' she said sweepingly.

'Men don't tumble into love at first sight, if that's what you mean.' He was scathing. 'In fact, love as women know it just doesn't exist for men, I'm afraid. We're too hard-headed, too practical. Women refuse to be realists and cling to a ridiculous dream of romance and happy-ever-after. '

'I wasn't talking about love!' she exclaimed, indignant, hoping with all her heart that one day some woman would cause him to regret bitterly those arrogant words. 'I'm talking of liking, trust, understanding. But I doubt if any of those things come easily to
you!'

'No,' he agreed smoothly, amused rather than offended by her bluntness. 'But when I do care for someone it lasts, Gillian. Flash-in-the-pan affairs have never been my style.'

'You strike me as a very cold-blooded man,' she said bluntly, with dislike.

'But you don't know me very well, do you?' He was carelessly indifferent to her opinion. They had reached Greenvale, gracious and attractive in the morning sunshine. He drove the car through the wide gates with a wave of his hand for the lodgekeeper.

'And I don't particularly want to know you any better!' Gillian flashed, goaded by the lazy drawl into outright rudeness.

'Is that temper or truth, I wonder?' He brought the car to a halt in the car park and switched off the engine. He turned to her, smiling. 'Shall I put that claim to the test?'

'Try me!' she invited hotly, annoyed that he obviously doubted her dislike, her indifference. Did he think he had only to turn on the charm, to smile in a certain way, for her to change her mind about him? He was wrong!

He was silent, studying her.

Her chin tilted. She didn't like the cool confidence, the faint gleam of mockery in the grey eyes that commanded her own gaze so imperiously. He was much too sure of himself.

She didn't like his closeness in the confines of the car. She was much too conscious of his maleness, his sexual challenge to her senses. Her heart began to thud. But she looked back at him steadily, defiant, prickly with pride.

For a moment, the atmosphere was electric.

Then he shook his head.

'I don't like militant women,' he declared coolly, reaching to the back seat for her bag and handing it to her.

Keyed up to the point of being ready to slap him again if he made any attempt to kiss her, suspecting it was in his mind, Gillian was abruptly deflated by his dismissive tone and manner.

'Naturally you'd prefer the downtrodden door-mat type who gazes adoringly at you and says yes to everything and wouldn't dream of criticising you,' she said scornfully, getting out of the car.

She didn't wait for him. She set off towards the big house, head high. With a few of his long strides, he caught up with her.

'Any man would prefer a gentle, sweet-natured girl who wouldn't dream of walking away without so much as a thank you for a lift,' he agreed dryly.

The colour swept into Gillian's face. She looked up at him quickly, defensively. 'Yes, that was rude of me,' she admitted readily, unable to be anything but honest. 'I'm sorry. Thank you for the lift.'

' "I'm very grateful
",' he prompted.

She shot him a baleful glance. 'I'm very grateful,' she echoed stiffly. 'But it wasn't necessary, you know. I could have taken a taxi or caught a bus.'

He sighed, irritated. 'I didn't
have
to call for you, Gillian. No one twisted my arm. Believe it or not, I was concerned about you. I wanted to check for myself that you were fit enough for work.'

'Perhaps you hoped to catch me in the throes of morning sickness,' she said dryly, unfairly. 'You just aren't convinced that I'm not pregnant, are you?'

He stopped and looked down at her, suddenly angry. 'I don't give a damn if you're about to go into labour. What an aggressive, unpleasant girl you are! Heaven knows what Steve finds to like in you! I should think everyone at Kit's must have breathed a sigh of relief when you left!'

Gillian felt as though he had struck her, so forceful were the words and the contempt behind them. Suddenly, foolishly, she wanted to cry. But being proud, she glowered at him instead.

A fair, stocky young man had driven through the gates of Greenvale behind the Mercedes and left his own car in the visitors' parking area. He had walked behind them as they approached the building in obvious argument and now he glanced curiously at the couple as he drew level, knowing the surgeon well and wondering about his fair companion who seemed vaguely familiar.

He looked more closely, paused.

'Gillian?' he exclaimed doubtfully, quite sure of her identity, but not at all sure how she would react to seeing him.

She turned, coming alive with eager delight at the sound of a familiar voice. 'Robin!'

'Gillian ...' He was more confident, just as delighted, smiling at her warmly.

Mark felt like an intruder, observing the transformation from glowering rebellion to glowing pleasure at this obviously unexpected reunion of old friends ... and perhaps more than friends, he thought shrewdly, noting her shining eyes and the warmth of McAllister's smile. He doubted that Steve would be too happy to hear that his new fancy and a local GP seemed to have something going for each other.

'How lovely to see you!' Gillian exclaimed warmly, meaning it with all her heart.

Robin held her hand very tightly. 'I don't believe it's really you! What are you doing here?'

'What about
you
? What are you doing here?' she countered, smiling.

Mark decided it was time to leave them to their explanations. Neither of them seemed to be aware any longer of his existence, he thought dryly. He laid a light hand on the man's shoulder. 'On your way to see me, aren't you? I'll be in my office when you're ready.'

Robin looked at him blankly for a moment. Then he nodded, smiled. 'Sorry! I didn't mean to be rude. But I haven't seen Gillian in much too long! I'll be with you in ten minutes.'

Mark nodded. 'Don't overdo things today, Gillian,' he said brusquely, sounding like her medical adviser, and strode away.

She looked after him briefly. Then she turned to Robin, gazing at him as if he had stepped out of a dream. As he had!

It was three years since they had last seen each other. Three years of remembering him with warm affection and even at times half regretting her decision not to marry him. But, three years before, she had been in the middle of her training and enjoying every moment of it and she just hadn't been ready to commit herself to anything as irrevocable as marriage.

About to leave Kit's and join an uncle in general practice somewhere in Sussex, Robin had taken it for granted that she would marry him and settle down happily as a doctor's wife and give up all thought of her nursing career. But Gillian hadn't wanted to leave Kit's and all her friends and all the fun. Frankly, she just hadn't been sufficiently in love with Robin.

Now, smiling at him, knowing that her heart had lifted at the sight of him, she wondered if she had loved him more than she knew, had missed him more than she realised until a moment ago when she turned to see his dear, familiar face. Certainly she had been fond of him. Certainly they had been very close. Certainly she had been tempted by his proposal of marriage.

'But you're working here!' he exclaimed in surprise, belatedly realising that she was dressed in the Greenvale uniform. 'I thought you were still at Kit's!'

They had kept vaguely in touch throughout the years. The occasional letter or card, one or two telephone calls, news of each other through mutual friends. But she had hurt him badly and it had seemed that he didn't want to meet her again and Gillian had understood, hoping that he would soon get over her and eventually find someone who wouldn't hurt and disappoint him.

She shook her head, smiling. 'I left a couple of months ago.' There would be plenty of time and opportunity to explain everything to him, she felt. 'I've only been here for a few days. I never expected to run into you!'

'I'm in practice with my uncle,' he reminded her levelly. 'It's a group practice based in a health centre in the town. I thought that you knew.' There was the faintest hint of reproach that she should have forgotten his plans on leaving Kit's after qualifying.

Of course she had known! Gillian marvelled that it could have slipped her memory so completely. Ever since she had applied for the job at Greenvale there had been a vague idea at the back of her mind that she had reason to know the name of the town where it was situated. How could she have forgotten that it was the very place where she would have lived with Robin if she had married him?

'Then you aren't associated with the clinic? Professionally, I mean?' She skated carefully over that hurtful, lapse of memory.

Robin smiled down at her warmly, happily, ready to forgive her anything in the delight of this unexpected meeting. She had been so often in his thoughts. Why should he assume that someone as pretty and popular as Gillian, should have had the time or the inclination to think about him as much?

'Oh, we send the occasional private patient along for treatment or surgery. It has a very good reputation. But how does it come about that you're here? Isn't it very dull in comparison with Kit's?'

'I haven't found it dull,' she said with truth. 'But it's early days, of course. I haven't yet found my feet. Or convinced anyone that I'm indispensable,' she added lightly, glancing at her watch. 'My track record is pretty poor to date and I mustn't be late this morning—and you've an appointment with Mark Barlow, apparently?'

As they walked on, he held firmly to her hand, reluctant to relinquish the physical contact with the girl he still loved. All his former feelings for her had surged through him at sight of her. Three years of learning to live without her had been swept away in a moment.

She smiled at him, warm and friendly, obviously pleased that they had met again. But there was a value disquiet in Robin's heart.

'You're friends—you and Barlow?'

He put the question carefully. If she had forgotten that he lived and worked in the same town, if she had virtually forgotten him as seemed all too likely, then something else had brought her to work at Greenvale. Something more important than the hospital career which had meant so much to her and someone more important than he had ever been. Loving could be that something—and Mark Barlow could be that someone, he thought heavily.

'No,' Gillian said promptly, lightly. 'We only met a few days ago.'

Robin was reassured. He squeezed her hand. 'I thought you were quarrelling,' he told her, amused by his readiness to leap to absurd conclusions.

'Oh, we were. We do it all the time,' she said carelessly. 'We don't like each other.'

'He isn't the easiest man in the world to like,' he agreed, relieved.

'You can say that again,' Gillian declared with feeling. 'He's bigoted, big-headed and bloody-minded!' She pushed through the swing door of the staff entrance. 'Robin, I must rush,' she said hastily, catching Mary Kenny's eye as the administrator emerged from her office. 'But we must get together for a really long talk. There's so much I want to know and so much I want to tell you! Can I ring you?'

'Of course you can. I'm in the phone book,' he told her, smiling.

A sudden thought struck her. She paused on the point of hurrying away. 'Will your wife answer?' she asked, half-laughing, half-anxious. 'I don't even know if you're married these days!'

Robin gripped her shoulder with bruising fingers. 'There was only one girl that I ever wanted to marry...' He was tense, looking down at her with his heart in his eyes. 'Nothing's changed for me, Gillian.'

Her own heart fluttered uncertainly. 'Oh, Robin . ...'

'I mean it,' he said stoutly.

'Yes ... yes, I know you do.' She smiled at him warmly, very moved. 'I've missed you, Robin.' It was impulsive, from the heart. She was flooded with memories of the good times they had known in those early days at Kit's. What good friends they had been and how fond they had been of each other—and how sad she had been that it had all been lost because his affection had turned into one-sided loving. 'It's really wonderful to see you again,' she added, meaning it.

Heart racing, she left him with that fervent half-promise for the future. Perhaps the future did hold all that he had hoped and apparently still hoped for despite the years. Perhaps he was an important part of the destiny that had guided her steps to Greenvale.

Perhaps he
was
her destiny ...

It wasn't
easy for Gillian to keep her mind on her work. Her thoughts kept turning to Robin and past days at Kit's and the might-have-been, and she found herself inclined to day-dream about the future instead of concentrating on the routine tasks and the many demands of the patients.

Mrs Maddox seemed to be more concerned about Gillian's health than her own. That stupid faint was being talked about by everyone, she discovered to her dismay. But she was touched that the jolly, kindly woman had taken such a liking to her that she was genuinely anxious. Gillian explained about her recent illness and the move from London and the excitement and tensions of starting a new job in a new town for what seemed the umpteenth time and managed to convince her patient that she was perfectly well.

Mrs Maddox was making good progress and she was encouraged to get out of bed and take a few of the first steps towards complete recovery. Like every patient after an abdominal operation, she was nervous and apprehensive but Gillian was reassuring, imparting confidence, and full of praise as she helped the big woman into a chair.

There was a new patient in the adjoining room. Beverley Jakes was a very attractive young woman who had come in for a minor gynaecological operation. Gillian was rather amused by the see-through nightgown and neglige of apricot chiffon and the careful make-up with which she prepared for the surgeon's visit that morning.