The taxi drew up outside her house and she reached for the door handle. Although she hated to let him go, she knew that she had to be sensible. ‘Thanks for seeing me home, Ross. I know you must be keen to get back to the surgery so I won’t keep you.’
‘I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re all right,’ he said firmly. He paid the driver then joined her on the pavement, his brows arching when she made no move to let them into the house. ‘Are we going to stand out here all day?’
‘No, of course not.’
Gemma flushed as she dug her key out of her pocket. She let them in and went straight into the sitting room to poke up the fire. She added another log then put the guard around the grate. Ross was still standing by the door and there was the strangest expression on his face. He looked tense and on edge, and Gemma was suddenly struck by remorse for all the trouble she had caused him.
‘I’m really sorry about what happened today. You have enough to contend with at the moment without having to come looking for me.’
‘Sorry?’ he repeated in evident surprise. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Gemma. It was an accident. There’s no need to apologise.’
‘It’s kind of you to say that, but if I’d been a bit more careful, I wouldn’t have got lost.’
‘You aren’t to blame in any way, shape or form.’ He came further into the room, his blue eyes boring into hers in a way that made her heart suddenly race as he stopped in front of her. ‘You were trying to save those people’s lives and you deserve a medal for what you did today—the way you put yourself at risk to help them.’
He touched her cheek, his fingers brushing so lightly across her skin that she should barely have registered it, yet all of sudden her body seemed to be on fire. Gemma gasped as a wave of heat flowed through her. Ross’s eyes darkened, taking on the colour of a midnight sky as he stared into her face. When he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t resist. Her breasts suddenly came into contact with his muscular chest and she sucked in her breath when she felt her nipples harden. She wanted him so much, wanted him and loved him too. And it was love that broke down the final barriers.
Winding her arms around his neck, she drew his head down and pressed her mouth to his. His lips were cool at first but they soon changed and she murmured in delight when she felt the heat of his mouth scorching hers. It felt as though Ross was branding her with his kiss, marking her as his property, and she gloried in the idea.
Opening her mouth, she invited him to deepen the kiss, uncaring how it would appear. She wanted him and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. When his tongue slid into her mouth, she shuddered convulsively, feeling the hot sweet rush of desire that flowed through her. When Ross had kissed her before, he’d shown a certain restraint, but he wasn’t holding anything back now. He kissed her hard and hungrily, arousing her passion as well as his own, so that they were both breathing heavily when he drew back, both needing a moment to find their way back down to earth.
He rested his forehead against hers and she felt the shudder that ran through him. ‘I don’t know what to say apart from wow.’
‘Wow, indeed,’ she repeated, shyly, and he chuckled as he pulled her to him again.
‘You’re not going all coy on me, I hope?’
‘No-o-o…’ She tailed off and he sighed as he tilted her face so that he could look into her eyes.
‘It was a great kiss, Gemma, the best kiss I can remember. There’s definitely nothing to be shy about.’
He kissed her again before she could reply and Gemma’s head started to spin, a combination of the desire she was feeling and the shock of that declaration. How could it have been the best kiss Ross could remember? What about all those kisses he’d shared with Heather?
It was a puzzle of labyrinthine proportions and she simply wasn’t up to solving it at that moment. Ross was kissing her again and again, showering her with the most wonderful kisses she had ever experienced too. She could feel herself drifting away on a tide of desire, her body aching for the fulfilment it so desperately wanted. Even when she felt his hands glide down the sides of her breasts, she wasn’t alarmed. She needed him to touch her, caress her, show her how much he wanted her.
He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and she shuddered. When he bent and nuzzled her breasts through the fabric of her dress, she moaned. She could imagine how wonderful it would feel if he kissed her there without anything in the way…
His hand went to the zip that ran down the front of her dress and all of a sudden sanity returned, icily cold and doubly scary because she’d allowed herself to forget. She couldn’t let Ross make love to her. She didn’t dare. He would take one look at her damaged body and be disgusted by what he saw.
For a moment fear locked her throat so that she couldn’t ask him to stop. All she could think of was the fact that she couldn’t bear it if Ross looked at her with revulsion!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ROSS
inched the zip down the merest fraction then paused, Gemma’s rigid posture warning him that something wasn’t right. His heart spasmed with fear when he saw the expression on her face. She looked scared to death all of a sudden and he had no idea why. ‘Gemma? Sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?’
He cupped her face between his hands, feeling the tremor that passed through her, although he knew it wasn’t desire that had caused it this time. He had seen the effect desire could have on her and this was in no way similar to that. His body made its own very emphatic statement as he recalled how she’d looked a few moments earlier but he forced it to behave. This wasn’t the time to lose control, not when something was so badly wrong.
‘Gemma, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,’ he pleaded, desperate to get through to her and he did, although her reaction wasn’t what he had expected.
‘I’m sorry but I think you should leave.’ She pulled herself out of his arms, her back ramrod straight, her head held high—a posture that smacked of rejection.
Ross was in no doubt that she really did want him to go. He’d have needed to be clueless not to have worked that out. However, what he didn’t understand was why she had gone from wanting him to rejecting him in the blink of an eye. He regarded her levelly, determined that he was going to get to the root of this puzzle.
‘This seems to have been an extremely rapid change of heart. Did I do something wrong, Gemma? Because if I did, I’d much prefer it if you told me what it was.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with you,’ she said shortly, walking to the door. It was obvious that she wanted him to leave but Ross had no intention of going until he knew what had happened.
‘How can it have nothing to do with me? One minute we’re just a step away from going to bed together, and the next moment you’re throwing me out on my ear. It’s a little difficult not to take it personally, I’m afraid.’
Colour rushed to her face but she met his eyes. ‘I apologise if you think I was leading you on.’
‘Tsk! We were leading each other on, Gemma.’ He grasped her hands, feeling even more concerned when he discovered how cold they were. ‘There was nothing one-sided about what happened—we were in it together!’
Her lower lip wobbled but she managed to hold on to her composure. ‘Maybe we were, but that doesn’t make it right.’
‘Doesn’t it?’
Ross stared at her as he tried to understand what she was saying. It was hard to get a fix on the real meaning because the sight of her mouth quivering like that was playing havoc with his ability to reason…
Not right equalled wrong, a small voice whispered. Gemma thought they’d been wrong to start kissing and that it definitely would have been wrong for them to make love. But why?
The cogs inside his brain were whirring now and Ross gasped as he realised what was behind her sudden withdrawal. Gemma thought it would be wrong to make love to him because of Heather! He gripped her hands, desperate to convince her there was nothing to fear.
‘If you stopped because yo
u feel guilty about Heather, there’s no need. Heather doesn’t love me—she proved that by calling off our wedding. And, more importantly, I don’t love her and I never did.’ His voice dropped as emotion got the better of him. ‘I never felt this way about Heather, I swear.’
Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘You may think that now, but you’ll change your mind, Ross.’
‘I won’t. I know how I feel and I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’
She was shaking her head before he had finished speaking. ‘You mustn’t say that, Ross, please. I don’t want to hear it.’
‘Why not?’ He gripped her hands so tightly that he felt her wince and forced himself to relax his grip. ‘There’s nothing to stop us being together if it’s what we both want, Gemma. I know it all seems very sudden, and that you might be worried that I’m on the rebound, but I promise you that isn’t the case. I really care about you. I lo—’
‘No!’ She dragged her hands free and stepped back, her face paper-white, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘I’m sorry, Ross, but I want you to leave now.’
Ross felt a tearing pain rip through his guts. He couldn’t believe that she was rejecting him but he only needed to see the expression on her face to know that she wouldn’t change her mind. Swinging round, he strode out of the room and wrenched open the front door, wondering how he was going to bear it. He loved her so much but she didn’t want him. His heart felt as though it was shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces.
‘I’m sorry, Ross. Really I am.’
He glanced back, feeling the pain inside him intensify when he saw the anguish on her face. He might be hurting but Gemma was hurting too, and that thought was too much to bear. The least he could do was absolve her of any guilt she might feel for rejecting him.
‘There’s no need to apologise. Maybe you’re right. It’s been that sort of day when emotions run unnaturally high.’ He managed to smile but it cost him dearly. ‘I’m sure we’ll both look back on what’s happened and wonder how one thing led to another.’
She reared back as though he had slapped her. ‘Then let’s be grateful that we called a halt when we did.’
‘Indeed.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better get back to work before Matt thinks I’ve gone AWOL. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Another quick smile and he was out of the door. There was a taxi dropping off a fare so he flagged it down and asked the driver to take him to the surgery. He knew Gemma was watching but he didn’t look back. He didn’t dare. If he looked back, he would have to go back and tell her that he had lied, that he loved her and wanted to spend his life making her happy, and it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
The truth was that Gemma neither loved nor wanted him and he had to accept that and not embarrass her by causing a scene. He should be used to it by now because it wasn’t the first time he’d been rejected, only this time it really hurt. This time he had lost the woman he truly loved with all his heart.
The days rushed by, turned into weeks, Christmas and New Year came and went. Gemma spent the holiday in Leeds with her parents, fielding their questions about why she was so quiet. She couldn’t tell them about Ross or why her heart was broken. They had suffered enough after her accident and it wouldn’t be fair to upset them again by explaining how it had affected her life. Her parents thought she had put it behind her and she preferred to let them believe that rather than tell them the truth.
She returned to work both desperate to see Ross and dreading it. He’d been so distant towards her since that day he had rescued her from the hills that she had found herself avoiding him. However, she knew that if they were to continue working together, she had to find a way to deal with what had happened.
Her first morning back was frantically busy. The surgery was packed after the extended break. Gemma saw patients non-stop all morning long then had another hectic session in the afternoon at the mother-and-baby clinic. Fortunately, Fraser Kennedy, their locum, was taking it that day so she was able to relax. However, shortly before they were due to finish, one of the mums who had been waiting her turn came rushing into the room.
‘It’s Abigail. I can’t wake her up!’ she cried, thrusting the little girl into Gemma’s arms.
‘Put her on the couch,’ Fraser instructed.
Gemma laid the infant down and unzipped her jacket. The poor little mite was waxy pale and there was a thin blue line around her mouth. Fraser took one look at the child and tipped back her head.
‘Get Ross in here,’ he ordered, placing his mouth over the little one’s nose and mouth as he started to breathe for her.
Gemma didn’t hesitate. She ran out of the room and along the corridor, bursting into Ross’s room without bothering to knock. ‘Can you come? We’ve got a ten-month-old baby who’s stopped breathing.’
‘Do we know what happened?’ he demanded, leaping up from his desk.
‘No. Mum was too distraught to tell us.’ Gemma ran back to the clinic room with Ross hard on her heels. He immediately took stock of the scene as he hurried over to join Fraser.
‘I’ll take over the breathing,’ he informed the younger man, then turned to Gemma. ‘We need an ambulance, asap. Once you’ve sorted that out, see what you can get out of the mother. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with.’
‘Will do.’
Gemma hurriedly phoned for an ambulance. Abigail’s mother, Amanda Thomas, was standing by the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Gemma gently urged her to a chair and sat her down.
‘Can you tell me what happened? Is it possible that Abigail swallowed something—a sweet perhaps?’
‘No, no, nothing like that. She just went sort of…stiff and I couldn’t rouse her.’ Her breath caught on a sob. ‘Please don’t let her die, I beg you.’
‘The doctors are doing everything possible for her,’ Gemma assured her. She took hold of Amanda’s hand, knowing how vital it was to find out what had happened to the child. ‘Has Abigail been ill recently?’
‘She’s had a bit of a cold for the past few days. I thought she was teething—she tends to get the snuffles when she cuts a tooth. But last night she felt really hot and she was very fretful, too…’
Amanda tailed off, her eyes welling with tears as she watched Ross and Fraser working on her daughter. Gemma squeezed her hand to regain her attention.
‘Was that all? There was just a fever? You didn’t notice a rash on her?’
‘No, nothing…Oh, apart from a sort of bruise in the crook of her elbow. I don’t know how that happened.’
‘I’ll tell the doctors what you’ve told me.’
Gemma hurried over to the couch. ‘Mum says the baby had a temperature last night. She’s been off colour for a few days—snuffly and very fretful—but Mum thought she might have been teething. She didn’t notice a rash but, apparently, there’s a bruise in the crook of Abigail’s elbow and she has no idea how it happened.’
‘Which arm?’ Ross demanded, looking up.
‘I’ll check.’ Gemma hurried back to Amanda and found out the information then went back. ‘Her right arm. I’ll snip open her sleeve.’
She quickly cut through the little girl’s sweater with a pair of blunt-ended scissors, frowning when she saw the strange purplish mark in the bend of the child’s arm. ‘How odd!’ she exclaimed.
‘I need intravenous antibiotics, stat!’ Ross rapped out in between breaths. He paused while Fraser checked the baby’s pulse and Gemma felt relief run through her when the locum announced that Abigail now had a much stronger pulse and that she was breathing on her own.
‘We’ll give her oxygen,’ Ross told the younger doctor. ‘You set that up while Gemma sorts out the antibiotics.’
He rattled out the dosage then turned back to the child, leaving Gemma wondering why the bruise was so significant. There was no time to ask him, though. She drew up the requested antibiotics then helped Ross administer them, cradling the little girl while the injection was given. Fra
ser had fetched the oxygen tank and, following Ross’s instructions, set the dial to deliver the requisite flow. Too much would damage the baby’s lungs while too little wouldn’t have the desired effect.
By the time that was done, the ambulance had arrived. One of the paramedics carried Abigail out and Gemma hurriedly ushered Amanda after them. She gave the woman a hug, wishing there was something more she could do. As a single mum, Amanda would have to go through this ordeal on her own and it was upsetting to think how hard it must be for her.
‘I’m sure she’ll be all right,’ Fraser said, noticing Gemma’s downcast expression as they headed back inside. ‘Ross knows what he’s doing and I’m sure he’s covered all the bases.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Gemma summoned a smile then went to her room and sat down. She couldn’t bear to think that poor little Abigail might not pull through after all their efforts.
‘She has a good chance of recovering from this,’ a voice said from the doorway and she looked up to find Ross watching her.
‘Do you think so?’ she muttered wearily.
‘Yes. The antibiotics should be kicking in even as we speak.’ He came further into the room although he didn’t close the door. Was he making sure that this highly emotive situation wouldn’t trigger another unwanted rush of passion? she wondered sickly. Maybe she had been the one to call a halt previously, but Ross had accepted her decision without too much protest.
‘What was so significant about that bruise on Abigail’s arm?’ she asked sharply because the thought hurt.
‘It could be an indication of bacterial meningitis—I’ve seen it once before. A child was admitted to A and E while I was doing my rotation there complaining of a fever and there was a bruise on his inner arm too. There were no other symptoms—no sensitivity to light, no stiffness in the neck, no headache, just the bruise and an elevated temperature.’ He shrugged. ‘I was on the point of sending him home with a script for paracetamol when the consultant happened to pass the cubicle.’
The GP’s Meant-To-Be Bride Page 13