The Doctor's Christmas Bride

by Sarah Morgan

  She cried out in ecstasy and he gave a groan and thrust deeper still, his eyes locking with hers, fierce with passion. And she was lost in that gaze, the connection between them so powerful that she felt part of him.

  ‘Bryony—’

  It was the first time she could ever remember him calling her by her name and she stared into his eyes, overwhelmed by emotion and sensation, every part of her body feeling every part of his. And then he started to move slowly and with every measured thrust he seemed to move deeper inside her, closer to her heart. She felt his strength and his power and was consumed by a rush of pleasure so agonisingly intense that she sobbed against the sleek muscle of his shoulder. She clung to him, fevered and breathless, totally out of control and not even caring. Every time her eyes drifted shut he muttered, ‘Open your eyes.’ And so she did, and finally she couldn’t look away as he drove her higher and higher until finally she felt the world explode and her whole body convulse in an ecstasy so powerful that it pushed him over the edge and she felt the hot, hard pulse of his own climax.

  It was so powerful that for several minutes neither of them spoke. They just held each other, breathing unsteadily, their gazes still locked, sharing a depth of emotion that neither of them had felt before.

  And then finally he gave a small, disbelieving shake of his head and rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

  Bryony lay against him and allowed her eyes to drift shut, so utterly swamped with happiness that she started to smile.

  Jack loved her.

  She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d stared down at her. And she’d felt it in the way he’d made love to her.

  Jack definitely loved her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SHE awoke feeling warm and safe, wrapped tightly in his arms.

  Bryony’s body ached in unfamiliar places and she smiled as she remembered every tiny detail of the night before. She snuggled closer to him and kissed him gently on the mouth, watching as he woke up.

  ‘I love you, Jack.’

  Finally she could say the words she’d been longing to say for almost all her life.

  And she sensed his immediate withdrawal. Physically he didn’t move, but she saw something flicker in his eyes and felt his lack of response with every fibre of her being. Her insides lurched.

  ‘Listen, Blondie.’ His voice cracked slightly and he cursed under his breath and released her, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were shut and a tiny muscle worked in his rough jaw. ‘About last night…’

  ‘Don’t call me Blondie,’ she said, her voice shaking as she lifted herself on one elbow and looked at him. She wasn’t going to let him do this. She wasn’t going to let him pretend that what they’d shared hadn’t been special. ‘Do you realise that last night you called me Bryony for the first time in your life? That was when you were making love to me, Jack.’

  His eyes stayed closed. ‘I thought we agreed that last night was a mistake.’

  ‘It wasn’t a mistake for me.’ She knew she was taking a huge risk but there was no turning back now. ‘I love you, Jack.’

  His eyes flew open and he stared at her for a moment. Then he sucked in a breath and sprang out of bed so quickly that she blinked in amazement.

  ‘Blond— Sorry, Bryony,’ he corrected himself quickly as he reached for his clothes. ‘You do not love me, all right? You just think you love me because last night we had sex and women think soppy thoughts after sex.’

  She watched, thinking that she’d never seen anyone dress so quickly in her whole life. Trousers, shirt, jumper—in seconds he was fully clothed, his expression desperate as he searched for his boots.

  ‘Why are you panicking, Jack?’

  ‘I’m not panicking.’ He found his boots and dragged them on without untying the laces. ‘I just think we need to get going.’

  ‘You are panicking. You’re panicking because I told you that I love you.’

  He scowled at her and ran both hands through his already tousled dark hair. ‘I’m not panicking about that, because I know it isn’t true.’

  ‘It is true.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And I know you love me, too.’

  He went completely still, his eyes fixed on her as if she were a dangerous animal that could attack at any moment. Then he swore under his breath and gave a sigh.

  ‘Bryony.’ He said her name firmly. ‘We spent the night together, sweetheart. We had good—’ He broke off with a frown ‘—well, amazing, actually…’ He cleared his throat. ‘We had amazing sex. It doesn’t mean we’re in love.’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t.’ She sat up in the bed, deriving considerable satisfaction from the way that his eyes lingered hungrily on her breasts before she tucked the duvet under her arms. ‘But we were in love before we had sex. The sex was amazing because we’re in love. You felt it, too, Jack. I know you did. I saw it in your eyes. I felt it, Jack.’

  ‘What do you mean—we were in love before we had sex?’ He licked dry lips and his eyes flicked towards the door. ‘We’ve been friends for twenty-two years, Blondie. We love each other, of course we do, but not like that.’

  ‘I love you like that,’ Bryony said quietly, ‘and I always have.’

  There was a long, tense silence and then he shook his head. ‘We both know that isn’t true. There’s Lizzie’s father for a start.’

  Bryony felt her heart thump heavily in her chest. She’d never talked about Lizzie’s father to anyone before. Never.

  ‘Lizzie’s father was my one attempt to get you out of my system,’ she said quietly, watching as his face drained of colour. ‘I’ve loved you all my life, Jack, but I resigned myself to the fact that you were never going to marry anyone. I decided that I needed to stop dreaming about you and get on with my life.’

  He was staring at her. ‘That isn’t true.’

  ‘It’s true. I met Lizzie’s father at a party. He was good-looking and fun to be with—’

  Jack’s mouth tightened. ‘Spare me the details.’

  ‘I thought you wanted the details.’

  ‘I don’t want to know that you found him attractive,’ he grated, and Bryony stared at him in exasperation, wondering if he realised just how contradictory he was being. One minute he was saying that he didn’t love her and the next he was showing all the signs of extreme jealousy.

  ‘We spent the night together,’ she said finally. ‘I was determined to forget about you.’

  ‘And it worked, yes?’ His eyes glittered strangely. ‘I mean, you’ve never given even the slightest hint that you cared about me, so it must have worked.’

  She sighed. ‘I didn’t give the slightest hint that I cared about you because you would have done what you’re doing now. Panic. And, no, it didn’t work. At least, not in the sense that you mean. It taught me that I’m a one-man woman, and that man is you, Jack.’

  ‘But you slept with him.’

  She blushed and gave a wry smile. ‘Just the once.’

  ‘And then you slept with other men—yes?’

  She shook her head. ‘No other men. There didn’t seem any point when none of them were you.’

  He ran a hand over the back of his neck, visibly shaken by her admission. ‘You’re saying that last night was only the second time you’ve had sex in your life?’

  She nodded. ‘That’s right, Jack. Why? Did I disappoint?’

  There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. ‘You know you didn’t disappoint.’ He let out a long breath and closed his eyes briefly. ‘Blond—Bryony, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say that you love me, too,’ she croaked, ‘because I know you do, Jack. I saw it in your eyes last night.’

  He shook his head, his expression bleak as he looked at her. ‘I can’t say that.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t. You know I don’t do commitment, Bryony.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’ She tipped her head on one side and watched him. ‘You have been there for me for every second of the last twenty-
two years, Jack, and since Lizzie was born you’ve been there for her, too. If that isn’t commitment, then I don’t know what is. I know you love me, Jack.’

  She knew she was pushing him and her heart was thudding in her chest as she anticipated his reaction. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but what did she have to lose?

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t be what you want me to be. I’d let you down. I’d let Lizzie down.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ she said softly. ‘I know that you had a terrible childhood. I know that your parents had a terrible marriage, but they never loved each other. That was so obvious. We do. We really love each other. We were always meant to be together.’

  ‘Is that why you slept with me last night?’ His eyes burned into hers. ‘Because you thought I’d say—I’d say those three words?’

  Which he couldn’t even bring himself to say as part of a conversation, Bryony observed sadly.

  ‘I slept with you because it felt right and because I love you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m not trying to trap you, Jack. You’re my best friend. It’s just that I know you love me, too.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Jack.’ Her tone was patient. ‘Since November I’ve been dating other men. Or, at least, I’ve been trying to. It hasn’t been going that well and lately I’ve been asking myself why.’

  He looked at her warily. ‘And what has that got to do with me?’

  ‘Everything.’ She stared at him and sighed. ‘Jack, that first night I went out with David. You hated my dress. You said it was indecent.’

  ‘It was indecent.’

  ‘But the other night you wanted me to wear it for you. You didn’t find it indecent then.’

  Hot colour touched his cheekbones and he breathed in sharply. ‘That’s different.’

  ‘You wouldn’t let me invite him in for coffee, you wouldn’t let him drive me home…’ She listed the various incidents and he grew steadily more tense.

  ‘I never said I didn’t care about you,’ he said stiffly, ‘but just because I don’t want you to marry the wrong man doesn’t mean I love you. You’re reading too much into it, which is a typically female pastime.’

  ‘Is it?’ She looked at him calmly. ‘Where do you spend most of your free time, Jack? Do you go home?’

  ‘I have an active social life.’

  ‘Which basically means that you have sex with different women,’ she said gently, ‘but you don’t spend time with those women, do you, Jack? You have a massive house but you never go there. You spend time with me. In my house. Sitting in my kitchen. Chatting about everything. Being part of my life. And Lizzie’s life.’

  ‘You’re my friend.’

  She nodded. ‘And that’s the best thing about a good marriage. I know because I saw it in my parents’ marriage. In a good marriage you are friends as well as lovers.’

  He backed away and stared at her incredulously. ‘You’re proposing to me?’

  ‘No.’ She held her breath. ‘I’m waiting for you to propose to me, Jack. And then we can spend the rest of our lives having fantastic sex and enjoying the special friendship we’ve always had. And Lizzie gets the daddy she’s always dreamed of.’

  He stared at her for a suspended moment and then he grabbed his jacket. ‘No.’ He thrust his arms into the jacket and zipped it up firmly, his jaw set in a hard line. ‘I think you’ve gone mad. For me it was just sex, Blondie—great sex, but just sex.’

  ‘Jack—’

  His eyes blazed into hers. ‘We won’t talk about it again.’

  ‘Jack!’

  ‘I’ll go and warm the engine up.’

  ‘Why are men like mascara?’ Bryony murmured to herself, watching him go with tears in her eyes. ‘Because they run at the first sign of emotion.’

  ‘I bet Lizzie is excited about Christmas.’ Nicky handed Bryony a syringe and she slowly injected the antibiotic into the patient’s vein.

  ‘Of course.’ Bryony didn’t look at her. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.’

  ‘What have you bought her?’

  ‘Oh, you know, all the usual girly things. Stuff for her hair, lots of stuff for her dolls, a new doll that she likes.’

  Everything under the sun except the one thing she wanted.

  A daddy.

  And she still hadn’t confessed to Lizzie that Santa wasn’t going to manage to deliver her the present she wanted this year.

  ‘Are you all right?’ As they moved away from the patient, Nicky touched her arm. ‘You’re so quiet and you look really pale.’

  ‘I’m fine, really.’ Bryony gave her a wan smile. ‘Just tired and looking forward to the Christmas break.’

  Nicky was frowning. ‘Well, you’ve certainly been working long hours for the past few days, thanks to Jack doing a vanishing act. Do you know where he’s gone?’

  Bryony shook her head. After their night in the honeymoon suite, he’d driven her home in brooding silence, dropped her off without saying a word and then disappeared from her life. Even Sean didn’t know where he was, although he did confess that Jack had called him and told him that he needed time off.

  Bryony sighed. So not only had she frightened Jack off a relationship, she’d frightened him out of her life altogether.

  She’d thrown herself into her work and had seen a steady stream of fractures and bruises as people had slipped on the ice, and she’d dealt with quite a few road accidents as people stupidly decided to drive home after Christmas parties.

  And that night when she tucked Lizzie in she felt a huge lump in her throat.

  ‘Lizzie…’ She settled herself on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. ‘We need to talk, sweetheart.’

  ‘Mmm?’ Lizzie snuggled down, her beautiful round cheeks pink from excitement.

  Bryony couldn’t bear the thought that she was about to dim that excitement, but she knew that she had to say something. She couldn’t let Lizzie carry on believing that Santa was going to deliver a daddy for Christmas.

  ‘Sweetheart, you remember your letter to Santa?’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘I wrote it ages ago.’

  ‘I know you did.’ Bryony swallowed. ‘But you also said you did it in November because you wanted to give Santa time, because you knew it was a pretty hard present for him to find.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘And he’s had ages.’

  ‘It isn’t a time thing, Lizzie,’ Bryony said softly, reached out and brushing her daughter’s face with her finger. ‘And a daddy isn’t really something that Santa can bring you.’ Tears spilled down her cheeks and she scrubbed them away quickly, not wanting her daughter to see her cry. ‘It’s up to me to find you a daddy, and so far I haven’t managed it.’ She broke off, totally choked by emotion and afraid to say anything else in case she started to sob.

  Lizzie sat up and curled her little arms round her neck. ‘Don’t be sad. You don’t have to find a daddy for me. That’s why I asked Santa. So that you don’t have to worry about it.’

  Bryony shook her head, tears clogging her lashes. ‘Lizzie, no, he can’t—’

  ‘I’ve been good,’ Lizzie said firmly, climbing onto Bryony’s lap. ‘I’ve been so good sometimes I’ve almost burst. And once I’ve got my daddy I’m never speaking to Sally again because she’s just horrid.’

  Bryony smiled through her tears and stroked her daughter’s hair. ‘I know you’ve been good, angel, but it doesn’t make any difference. Santa can’t get you a daddy. I should have told you that before. He can get you toys and things like that, but not a daddy.’

  ‘Just wait and see.’ Lizzie gave her a smug smile and nestled down in her bed. ‘Night-night.’

  Bryony closed her eyes. ‘Night-night.’

  What was she supposed to do? She’d just have to wait until Christmas morning and hope that all the other presents that she’d chosen would compensate in some small way for not being able to produce a daddy.

  But she knew that her daughter was heading for a cru
shing disappointment.

  Bryony worked the morning of Christmas Eve and there was still no sign of Jack.

  ‘I think he’s at home,’ Sean said when she tentatively asked if he knew where Jack was.

  Bryony frowned, knowing that it was very unlikely that Jack would be at home. He hardly spent any time at home, especially not at Christmas. He either stayed at her house or camped out with Tom or Oliver or stayed in his room at the hospital.

  ‘Are you spending Christmas with your mother?’ Sean pulled on his coat and reached for his mobile phone.

  ‘Lizzie and I are staying in our house tonight,’ Bryony told him, ‘and then we’re all going to Mum’s for lunch tomorrow. Tom and Oliver will be there, too, patients permitting.’

  Sean lifted an eyebrow. ‘And Jack?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He usually comes but this year…’ She broke off and flashed a smile at Sean, suddenly needing to get away. ‘Are you off to see Ellie and the baby?’

  Sean nodded. ‘They’re being discharged this afternoon, all being well.’

  ‘Give her my love.’

  They went in different directions and Bryony drove to her mother’s, picked up Lizzie and headed for home.

  Lizzie was so excited she was bouncing in her seat like a kangaroo and Bryony felt something tug at her heart.

  ‘It would be great if Santa brought you that nice new doll you saw,’ she said, but Lizzie shook her head.

  ‘I don’t want to be greedy. A daddy is enough.’

  And after that Bryony fell silent, totally unable to find a way of persuading her daughter that her dream might not come true.

  She cooked tea with a cheerful smile, hung the stocking on the end of Lizzie’s bed and left a mince pie and a glass of whisky by the fire for Santa.

  ‘Do you think he’d like more than one mince pie?’ Lizzie asked, and Bryony shook her head.

  ‘He’s going to eat a mince pie in every house. That’s rather a lot, don’t you think?’

  ‘Can we leave carrots for the reindeer?’