The GP’s Meant-To-Be Bride

by Jennifer Taylor

  ‘It’s like sensory overload after my own house,’ he continued, struggling to get to grips with that idea. It was as though his own happiness was suddenly all bound up with Gemma’s and the thought seemed to unlock his usual reserve as he cast another look around the room.

  ‘It’s gorgeous, Gemma. Really gorgeous. Just like you.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GEMMA

  felt her breath catch when she realised what Ross had said. Did he really think that she was gorgeous? she wondered, her heart racing like crazy. ‘Sorry. I know how daft that must have sounded.’ Ross smiled wryly. ‘What I really mean is that your home is a reflection of you. It projects the same kind of warmth that you do when you’re dealing with any patients in the surgery.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Thank you. It’s kind of you to say so.’

  Gemma turned away, afraid that he would see how disappointed she felt. She knew it was silly to have read so much into the remark, but she couldn’t help it. She longed for Ross to like her, to admire her, to want her even, but it would never happen. Leaving aside the fact that he was in love with Heather, she could never have a relationship with him that involved them being anything more than friends.

  The euphoria she’d felt leaked away, leaving her feeling deflated. It was an effort to pretend that everything was fine as she went to make the coffee. Ross was sitting on the sofa when she came back with the tray. He had taken off his jacket and was slumped against the cushions, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him look for ages, and her spirits lifted a little. To know that he felt so at ease in her home was some consolation.

  ‘That was quick. Here, let me take that for you.’ He stood up and took the tray from her, setting it down on the stool she used in lieu of a coffee-table. Crouching down beside it, he picked up the pot. ‘Shall I pour?’

  ‘If you like.’ Gemma sank down on the chair, tucking her feet beneath her as she watched him pour the coffee into two mismatched china mugs she’d found at a rummage sale. He looked up, one dark brow quirking in a way that she found irresistibly attractive.

  ‘Milk? Sugar? I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know how you take your coffee.’

  ‘Not usually your job to do the coffee run,’ she teased him and he grinned.

  ‘No. Maybe I should take a turn at it?’

  ‘Best not,’ she advised him. ‘You don’t want the staff worrying that you’re having some sort of breakdown if you suddenly take on the role of drinks monitor.’

  ‘Not if it means another round of sympathy,’ he said drily. He grinned as he held the milk jug aloft. ‘That being the case, this is a one-off-never-to-be-repeated offer, so make the most of it. What’s it to be?’

  ‘Just milk, please.’

  Gemma accepted the cup, waiting while he added both milk and sugar to his own cup. He resumed his seat, sighing with pleasure as he tasted the coffee.

  ‘This is very good. Where do you buy your coffee?’

  ‘It’s just the supermarket’s own brand—nothing fancy.’

  ‘Really?’ He shook his head. ‘I pay extravagant money for mine and it doesn’t taste half as good as this. I need to rethink my shopping habits.’ Ross drank some more coffee then looked around the room. ‘Have you lived here ever since you moved to Dalverston?’

  ‘Almost. I rented a room until I found this place. I didn’t think I’d be able to afford it at first, but my parents helped me with the deposit.’ She glanced around and smiled. ‘That’s why I had to be economical with the furnishings. More or less everything in the house has been bought at jumble sales or from charity shops.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter where it came from because it looks great,’ he said sincerely, and she laughed.

  ‘Thank you. I have to confess that I was a bit nervous about what you would think.’

  ‘Nervous? Why on earth should you feel nervous?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been to your house and everything is so perfect—there’s not a thing out of place.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘I expected you to turn up your nose at all my clutter.’

  ‘Which is my problem and not yours.’ Ross looked sombre as he set his cup on the tray.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting things to be in their rightful places,’ she said gently, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Perhaps not. However, expecting people to respond in a certain way probably isn’t the best way to conduct a relationship.’

  ‘You think you put pressure on Heather to conform to your standards?’ Gemma suggested, tentatively. Although Ross seemed happy enough to talk, she didn’t want to go beyond the boundaries he was comfortable with.

  ‘The truthful answer is I don’t know. I just assumed that Heather wanted what I did, but obviously I was wrong.’ His tone was flat and she couldn’t help wondering if it was because he was afraid of revealing too much. Ross was a very private person and she was merely a colleague who had been recently elevated to the status of a friend.

  It was a timely reminder of how tenuous her position was. Gemma realised that she needed to be extremely careful and not make the mistake of getting too involved in his affairs. Ross might be glad of her support at the moment but everything could change once he had recovered from this setback.

  ‘Maybe you weren’t wrong,’ she said, hoping he couldn’t hear the ache in her voice, an echo of the one in her heart. ‘It could be that Heather just got a bad case of cold feet. A lot of brides do.’

  ‘But they don’t all call off their weddings, do they?’ His smile was wry. ‘No, Heather wasn’t convinced that she wanted to spend her life with me and I don’t blame her. I do tend to take life far too seriously.’

  ‘Then you have to learn to relax,’ she said lightly, hating to hear the regret in his voice. It was obvious that Ross blamed himself for the split and that must make the situation even more painful for him. She deliberately adopted an upbeat tone. ‘What do you enjoy doing? When you’re not working, I mean.’

  ‘Nothing particularly exciting,’ he replied with a shrug.

  ‘Oh, come on, there must be something that floats your boat, even if it’s a secret addiction to old Laurel and Hardy films. You can tell me. I swear I won’t reveal your secrets to anyone, no matter how bizarre they are!’

  He laughed out loud. ‘I’m not sure it would be wise to tell you. It could be something to blackmail me with if I confess to some kind of dark and guilty passion.’

  ‘Would I do such a thing?’ She tried to look as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth and probably failed.

  Ross shook his head. ‘I hate to disappoint you but I honestly and truly don’t have any secret likes—or dislikes, for that matter.’

  ‘Fair enough, but if I find out that you’re a closet heavy metal fan, I shall rib you unmercifully.’

  ‘I’d better hide my music collection.’ Ross returned her smile. ‘So what about you? What addictions do you have?’

  ‘Oh, loads! I’m addicted to jumble sales and charity shops. I can’t pass a shoe shop without going in and trying on the shoes even if I haven’t any intention of buying them. I’m totally addicted to chocolate and could eat a whole box all to myself if I didn’t make myself stop. And then there’s the singing. That really is an addiction.’

  ‘Singing? You’re in a choir?’ Ross exclaimed, and Gemma laughed.

  ‘No choir would have me. I have awful difficulty hitting the right note but that doesn’t deter me. I sing all the time when I’m at home—when I’m cooking or I’m dusting or vacuuming. But my favourite place is the bathroom. The acoustics in there are wonderful!’

  ‘I had no idea. We’ve worked together for three years and I never suspected you had this guilty secret in your life.’ Ross’s eyes danced with laughter. ‘You do realise that now I can blackmail you?’

  ‘Ah, but we’re friends. And friends don’t betray a secret. They guard it with their lives.’

  ‘As I shall guard yours,’ he said quietly.

  There w
as a moment when their eyes met, a tiny fraction of time when the world seemed to stop spinning. Gemma felt her heart catch as she looked into Ross’s eyes and saw the warmth they held, a warmth that was there for her and for her alone. Then Ross reached for his cup, and everything returned to normal.

  They finished their coffee, chatting while they drank. Ross was excellent company and the time flew past. It was only when the old clock on the mantel struck midday that he broke off, looking surprised and a little embarrassed as he checked his watch.

  ‘I didn’t realise it was so late. Sorry. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your morning, Gemma.’

  ‘There’s no need to apologise.’ Gemma stood up and placed her cup on the tray. ‘I invited you here and I didn’t set a time limit on how long you should stay. I’ve enjoyed this morning.’

  ‘So have I, and not just because it got me away from my mother and her well-meaning attempts to console me.’ He gave her a wry smile as he stood up. ‘Mum finds it very difficult to believe that her baby boy is all grown up at times.’

  ‘I imagine most mothers are the same. I know mine is,’ Gemma said with a laugh, handing him his jacket.

  He shrugged it on, drawing her attention to the solid breadth of his chest and the width of his shoulders. Even on a Saturday he was immaculately dressed in a pair of well-pressed cords and a cashmere sweater. Gemma suddenly found herself wondering what he would look like in a pair of jeans, well-worn jeans that would mould his muscular legs, jeans that he would remove when he took her to his bed…

  She drove the image from her head. No man was ever going to take her to his bed again, and certainly not Ross. She couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face when he saw her scars, her imperfections. Anger rose up inside her all of a sudden. It wasn’t fair that her life should have been ruined through no fault of her own!

  Ross zipped up his jacket. He couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed. It seemed only a few minutes since he’d arrived yet he’d been here a couple of hours. Gemma was such easy company and he had enjoyed being with her so much. He would like to spend a lot more time with her, if he was honest.

  He swallowed his sigh as he turned to say his goodbyes. At the moment, he needed to get himself back on track and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about starting another relationship. It wasn’t fair to Gemma to confuse the issue when she had offered him the hand of friendship. Just because he’d discovered that he was attracted to her, it didn’t mean that she reciprocated his feelings. Far from it. Bearing in mind that she was Heather’s friend, she would probably be appalled by the idea.

  It was a salutary thought. Ross knew that it was time he left before he did something he would regret. He opened his mouth to thank her for her hospitality then stopped when he saw how upset she looked.

  ‘Gemma, what is it?’ he said in concern. ‘Don’t you feel well?’

  He laid his hand on her forehead but her skin was cool to the touch, with no sign of fever. It was also satiny smooth and so fine that he let his hand remain there. Gemma didn’t say a word as she stared at him with eyes filled with a mixture of pain and anger, and he felt more concerned than ever. Gemma never got angry, so what was wrong with her? Was it something he’d done that had upset her?

  He searched his mind but for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything that could have caused such a reaction. Bending, he stared into her eyes and saw the exact moment when she focussed on him. He heard her draw a ragged breath and knew that she was struggling to regain control.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured as he drew her into his arms. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, but everything will be fine. I promise you that.’

  He let his hand slide down her cheek, feeling her skin glide like silk beneath his palm. Although her forehead had been cool to the touch, her cheek felt warm, the faint glaze of colour hinting that she was embarrassed by what had happened, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  He pulled her closer, wanting to reassure and comfort her any way he could. She felt so small as she nestled against him and he’d have been a liar if he’d claimed that the feel of her in his arms didn’t affect him, but he clamped down on the rush of desire. The very least he could do was offer her a shoulder to cry on after what she had done for him. It was what friends did, wasn’t it? They were there for one another and he intended to be there for her too.

  They must have stayed like that for well over five minutes, Ross cradling her in his arms, Gemma nestling against him. And then she took a shuddery little breath and stepped back.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked up and smiled bleakly. ‘You must think I’m crazy. I don’t know what came over me…’She tailed off and he knew it was because she didn’t want to lie to him. She did know what had upset her but she didn’t want to tell him.

  ‘There’s nothing to apologise for,’ he said quietly, taking hold of her hands because he wanted her to know that he was there if she ever needed to talk. If Gemma chose to share this secret with him, he would do everything in his power to make things right for her.

  The force of his feelings shocked him and he gripped her hands. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, Gemma, just tell me.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes swam with tears but she smiled as she withdrew her hands. ‘I appreciate your kindness, Ross, but I’m fine. Honestly.’

  Ross knew that she was a long way from being fine but there was nothing he could do. He certainly didn’t intend to upset her even more by forcing her to tell him the truth. He stepped back, needing to set some distance between them, both physically and emotionally. He had to remember that he was trying to get his own life back on track and not confuse matters by getting caught up in Gemma’s problems.

  ‘Good. Right, I think I’d better get off now. Thanks again for the coffee and the chat. I enjoyed this morning enormously.’

  He bade her a swift goodbye, not lingering on the step when she showed him out. A quick wave as he got into his car and that was that. He drove straight home and went into his study, taking a stack of medical journals off the shelf. He’d been so busy with wedding preparations recently that he’d let things lapse, and he needed to catch up.

  He opened the journal at an article about type 1 diabetes, but after a couple of sentences he found his mind drifting. It was Saturday afternoon and surely he could think of something more interesting to do? He ran through a list of options, but nothing appealed. Visiting the cinema on his own was definitely out—think of the sympathetic looks he’d attract if anyone saw him. Ditto the swimming pool which would be full of families anyway.

  He could go Christmas shopping, but he couldn’t face the thought of the crowds. Anyway, apart from a present for his mother and the usual chocolates for the staff at the surgery, there weren’t that many to buy. Last year he’d bought Heather a necklace, but she’d chosen it herself to save him the trouble of looking and he’d merely phoned the shop and paid for it. Maybe the alarm bells should have started ringing then? After all, choosing a present for the woman you loved should be a pleasure rather than a chore.

  Ross sighed as he tipped back his chair. It was galling to admit that he had made such a mess of things. His relationship with Heather would never have worked and he was lucky that she had realised it in time. The problem was that he’d been too focussed on his aims as a doctor when he should have paid more attention to how he felt as a man. If he could redress the balance then everything would be fine.

  Closing his eyes, he started to create a new picture of his future, complete with a cast of wife, kids and pets. The kids and pets were easy—he could conjure them up in droves. However, picturing the woman who one day would share his dream was a lot harder. A face suddenly began to take shape in his mind’s eye—satiny skin, a lush mouth, grey eyes, perfect ears…

  His eyes flew open and he picked up the discarded journal. Gemma was his friend. She certainly wasn’t the latest candidate for his ideal life partner!

  CHAPTER EIGHT
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  MONDAY

  morning was always a busy time in the surgery, and at this time of the year, when there were so many coughs and colds about, it was hectic. Gemma had appointments scheduled for every ten minutes and was hard pressed to keep up. When Sarah Roberts arrived for the first of the immunisation shots she needed for a forthcoming holiday in Mexico, Gemma was snatching a quick cup of tea. ‘Sorry. It’s been madly busy this morning. I was just trying to grab a cuppa before you arrived.’

  ‘Take your time. I’m in no rush,’ Sarah told her as she sat down by the desk. She placed her bag on her knee, nervously twisting the strap around her fingers while Gemma finished her tea.

  ‘That’s better. I think I might survive now.’ Gemma set the mug aside then frowned when she saw how flushed Sarah looked. Although a lot of people were nervous about having injections, it shouldn’t have caused this sort of a reaction. ‘Are you feeling all right, Sarah? You look rather hot to me.’

  ‘I am a bit.’

  Sarah plucked at the scarf tucked into the neck of her jacket and Gemma was even more concerned when she saw that Sarah’s hands were shaking. Reaching across the desk, she checked Sarah’s pulse and discovered that it was extremely rapid and very irregular, as was her breathing.

  ‘How do you feel apart from being hot?’ she said quietly. If Sarah was sickening for something, it certainly wouldn’t be wise to begin her immunisation programme that day.

  ‘Sort of nervy and twitchy, you know.’ Sarah laughed and there was a hint of hysteria in her voice. ‘I feel all churned up like you do when you’ve had a shock.’

  ‘And when did this start?’ Gemma brought up Sarah’s file on the computer. Apart from her weight-loss problem, she had been extremely healthy since she’d joined the practice the previous year.

  ‘This morning, although I felt on edge all weekend, if I’m honest. I know Martin was fed up with me jumping up and down all the time while he was trying to watch the rugby on television,’ she added and suddenly burst into tears.