Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2

by Various Authors

  Far too conscious of Oliver beside her, Chloe readied herself for their ride, silently cursing Lauren whom she imagined had been the traitor who had tipped Oliver off about where to find her that morning. Her friend had been clever, she’d give her that. Oliver had been surprised when he had recognised her. She was still amazed he had done. Hell’s bells, she’d nearly fainted in shock when he’d rolled in on his impressive-looking black Yamaha and taken off his helmet!

  After a fun evening with Lauren and Vicky, she had gone to bed, her rescued cats, Pirate and Cyclops, curled up near her feet, but all her dreams had been filled with images of the playboy doctor who had knocked her life out of kilter in a few short weeks. Not to mention Lauren’s and Kate’s combined advice to give Oliver a chance.

  Sunday had dawned promising another hot, sunny day, and she had left early for Addison’s Yard. With little space and no offroad parking at her cottage in Fisherman’s Row, she garaged her Ducati with the enthusiastic couple who owned the bike business. After a cup of coffee with early birds Roger and Jean Addison, she’d embraced the freedom her bike afforded her and had ridden the short distance to one of her favourite secluded places to think and plan her day. To discover she shared her secret passion for motorbikes with Oliver brought another rush of confused emotions.

  Feeling that sinful dark gaze focused on her, she glanced up. The way he looked at her was like a caress…not that she knew what the caress of a man felt like. But Oliver always made her feel unsettled yet strangely alive. Her palm still tingled from the kiss he had so unexpectedly and shockingly placed there. She felt gauche, out of her league. There had to be any number of experienced women keen to be with him—she wasn’t so blind or stupid that she didn’t realise Oliver was incredibly good-looking—so why was he interested in someone like her? Maybe if he found out about her past his interest would cease, no matter what he said to the contrary.

  A smile curved his mouth and she had the unnerving feeling he knew what she was thinking. ‘One step at a time, babe. Let’s enjoy our day. OK?’

  ‘OK.’ Chloe heard the doubt in her own voice and knew he’d heard it, too.

  She flipped down her visor, cutting off his view of her face so he couldn’t read her expressions any more. Filled with nervous anticipation, she started her bike and led the way into what, for her, was the unknown…spending time with a sexy, attractive man who made his interest in her abundantly and frighteningly clear. Quite what she was going to do about that, if anything, remained to be seen.

  Chloe couldn’t believe how quickly the day sped by, or how disappointed she was that her time with Oliver was nearly over. They’d ridden miles along the coast and inland, spending time on Bodmin Moor with its wild landscape, granite tors, standing stones and unique history. She had imagined Oliver as a typical beach boy, interested only in surfing and women, but he’d proved to be a fascinating companion, keen to learn things, sharing unexpected bits of information and, most surprisingly of all, keeping her laughing all day. They had shared a picnic lunch on the moor, spent the afternoon exploring on both bike and foot, then had enjoyed an early fish-and-chip supper along the coast before making their way home. By evening they were back in Penhally, Oliver having followed her home after she had left her bike in its secure garage at Addison’s Yard.

  As she opened her front door, conscious of Oliver behind her, Chloe couldn’t remember when she had last enjoyed herself so much. Usually, getting out on the bike was her escape and she liked to be alone to relax and unwind, but sharing things with Oliver today had made everything even better…special. Which was a bit scary in itself. She hadn’t expected to relax with him, to enjoy being with him, for him to be so thoughtful and smart and funny. But she had—and he was.

  He hadn’t pressed her for details about her own life but he’d been open in telling her about himself, his childhood, the pluses and minuses of growing up in a well-known and wealthy family. The self-deprecating humour with which he had related tales of his scrapes and mishaps had brought tears of laughter to her eyes. All the while, though, she’d felt sad that she had nothing similar to offer about her own time growing up. A time dominated by her father’s anger, his fists, his vicious tongue.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  Oliver’s husky voice broke through her reverie. Manufacturing a smile, she shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You look sad.’ His voice gentle, he crossed the living room, closing the gap between them.

  ‘No.’ Her memories were sad but she didn’t want the past spoiling this magical day, one she had never expected to have. ‘I’m fine.’

  But the thoughts, having intruded, were not so easy to banish. Was Lauren right? Was she allowing her father to control her life now as much as he had when he’d been alive? Not for the first time, she wondered what Oliver would think if she was ever able to confide in him about her father’s mental, verbal and physical abuse. No matter what he had said about accepting anything she told him, she felt ashamed and embarrassed about her past. And she was sure he would laugh when he found out about her complete lack of experience with men.

  She knew that her years of conditioning at home with her father had caused her to shut down one whole side of herself, but she hadn’t felt she had been missing anything, had genuinely never felt interest in or desire for a man. It was Oliver who was awakening those kinds of feelings within her. And she was scared. Scared to open herself up to hurt, scared Oliver would either despise her or ridicule her for her past.

  She was startled from her introspection when Oliver took both her hands in his. Uncertain, she looked up and met his dark, intense gaze, aware of the way her pulse raced and her skin tingled from his touch as his fingers stroked the sensitive insides of her wrists.

  ‘Thank you for today, Chloe.’

  His smoky voice increased the feeling of intimacy and made her skittish. ‘I had a good time,’ she admitted truthfully, earning herself a boyish smile.

  ‘I’m glad. I really enjoy being with you, and I’d like us to spend much more time together.’

  ‘Why?’ She couldn’t hide her confusion. ‘You could have anyone.’

  A chuckle rumbled from his chest. ‘I don’t want anyone. I want you.’

  ‘I’m no good at this.’

  ‘You mean letting a man get close to you?’ he asked, no hint of judgement in his tone.

  ‘I don’t know how to be what you want me to be.’

  For a moment his fingers tightened on hers, then he released

  them, but only so he could cup her face, drawing her gaze to his. Dark brown eyes looked deeply into hers. His touch was warm, sure but gentle, making her quiver from head to toe. Her chest felt tight and she wasn’t sure she could remember how to breathe.

  ‘Chloe, I never want you to be anything or anyone but yourself.’ He was serious, intent, sincere. ‘I like you just the way you are.’

  ‘But—’ Her words were silenced as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her lips.

  ‘I’m not going to hurt you. We’ll take things as slowly as you want,’ he promised, and despite her wariness and doubt she felt warm deep inside, her heart thudding against her ribs. ‘Give me a chance, babe…give us a chance. I want you to feel comfortable, to know you can trust me with anything.’

  She finally managed to draw in a ragged breath. ‘Oliver…’

  ‘Shh. One step at a time. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ she finally agreed, not at all sure she knew what she was doing, but when he smiled at her like that she took leave of her senses, and the thought of more days like today was too tempting to resist.

  ‘Thank you.’ She saw him take a deep breath of his own, as if he was relieved or something. His thumbs stroked softly across her cheekbones, his eyes darkening as he stared at her mouth. ‘May I kiss you goodnight?’

  Chloe’s eyes widened. ‘You want to kiss me?’

  ‘I do. Very much.’ The chuckle rumbled out again, his smile deepening, bringing the dimple to his c
heek. ‘Is that so bad?’ he teased, eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Or such a surprise? You look like you’ve never been kissed before!’

  ‘I haven’t.’

  He laughed, clearly disbelieving her, then his expression sobered as he continued to study her face. ‘Damn,’ he groaned, his body tensing. ‘You’re serious.’

  Oliver’s shock was only what she had expected. She had known he wouldn’t understand. How could he think she was anything but an oddity? Chloe ducked her head as an astonished silence stretched between them. At least he knew part of the truth about her now, even though it was bound to drive him away and cool his interest in a single moment. She tried to step back but his hold tightened. He tilted her head up, but she resolutely closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see the mocking derision she was sure must be in his.

  ‘Chloe…look at me.’

  ‘No,’ she murmured, hands clenched to fists at her sides.

  Oliver’s hands slid along her neck to burrow into her hair, his thumbs grazing the line of her jaw, tipping her chin up further. ‘Open your eyes, babe,’ he insisted softly, his voice persuasive, a husky whisper that seemed to reach all her nerve endings.

  Biting her lip, she mustered some bravado and forced herself to meet his gaze, surprised to find nothing but kindness and caring and honesty.

  ‘Did you think I was going to make fun of you, or walk away?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Chloe shrugged. ‘Maybe. Yes.’ Frowning, she searched his gaze. ‘I’m not like the kind of women you must have dated.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he agreed, and for a moment her heart sank and a surprising wave of disappointment washed through her. ‘But they’re in the past. They don’t interest me. You’re different, Chloe. In a good way. And I’m not walking away.’ Her heart started thudding again. She opened her mouth to protest, but the fingers of one hand brushed across her lips, silencing her. ‘I’m serious when I say I don’t want anyone but you. I meant it when I told you we’d take things at your pace. When you feel ready to talk, to tell me about your past and why it has held you back from experiencing your full potential as a desirable woman, I’m here to listen. Until then we’ll spend more time together, get to know each other, whatever you want.’

  She had no idea why, but she believed him. And she felt a crazy sense of nervous excitement she had never experienced before. Trying to block out the warnings of her past, she thought of Lauren’s and Kate’s advice, and especially of Oliver, this day they had shared, and took a tentative step out on a limb. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes?’

  Oliver looked puzzled and she smiled. ‘Yes, you may kiss me goodnight,’ she whispered, her nervousness bringing a tremble to her voice.

  Chocolate eyes turned dark and fiery as her words sank in. Again his hands moved to cup her face and her own hands rose to his chest, resting there uncertainly. Even through the soft leather she could feel the rapid beat of his heart, and when she breathed in, she inhaled the subtle masculine fragrance of him. She liked it. Her whole being shook as his head lowered and her eyes fluttered shut, the breath leaving her in a rush as his mouth met hers, his lips moving gently…warm, sure and seductive. Unable to help herself, she leaned into him. The kiss lasted no more than ten seconds. It wasn’t enough. Already she wanted more, wanted to do it again, wanted it to go on for ever, and she barely suppressed a whimper of protest when he slowly pulled back.

  Confused, she opened her eyes, saw Oliver’s smile. Then he was letting her go, and she swayed, leaning against the sofa for support as she watched him walk away. Speechless, she pressed a hand to her mouth where the imprint of his still lingered. She licked her lips, tasting a teasing hint of the unfamiliar flavour of him. At the door, Oliver stopped and looked back at her, his eyes dark and unfathomable, his voice smoky with promise.

  ‘Goodnight, Chloe. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, babe.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OLIVER spent a couple of moments between patients updating his notes and preparing a referral letter to the cardiac consultant at St Piran. He was troubled by the worsening angina of the woman he had just seen, who smoked, had high blood pressure, high cholesterol and a family history of heart problems. Frowning, he concisely explained his concerns and requested the consultant’s opinion.

  It was Wednesday afternoon, and he was still shocked by the discoveries he had made on Sunday…the amazing day he had spent with Chloe. She was everything he had imagined and so much more. But absorbing the reality that she was twenty-seven-years old and had never even been kissed was taking some time.

  Knowing she was in the room above, taking an antenatal clinic, his gaze strayed upwards. So near and yet so far. She was beyond innocent. How? Why? He had told her he would give her the time she needed to trust him, and he meant it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t eager to understand why someone so beautiful and together had absolutely no idea about her own body, about need and pleasure and sexual fulfilment. Chloe wasn’t being coy or shy or playing a game. She was genuine—and for some reason she had never had or explored sexual feelings.

  At first, from the things Lauren and Kate had implied, he had assumed Chloe had been hurt by a previous boyfriend. But that was clearly not the case. Something much more fundamental must have happened in her earlier years to have caused her to shut off a whole part of herself. She had feared on Sunday that learning the truth of her inexperience would drive him away, make him lose interest. The opposite was the case.

  Far from putting him off, Chloe’s innocence brought a wave of affection and a rush of possessive satisfaction that no other man had touched her. He wanted to be the one to awaken her desires and teach her about the pleasures of her body, to show her how beautiful and sexy she was. But he couldn’t banish the flickers of doubt that nagged at him. Was Chloe right for him? Was he the right man for her? Lauren and Kate appeared to believe so and claimed to see beyond the playboy stereotype he sought to escape. Did Chloe?

  Nothing in his past had prepared him for a woman like her. Yes, he was wary, but he couldn’t now imagine not having her in his life. With Chloe it would be all or nothing. He needed to go on seeing her, to win her trust and friendship, but he would have to be very sure of himself and his plans for the future before he took things beyond a few simple kisses. He was getting too far ahead of himself. For now he would spend as much time as he could with her outside work…which wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  As well as being on call to her expectant mothers, Chloe had several out-of-hours ante—and postnatal groups, plus a parenting class for new mothers and fathers, in which she gave general support and advice on anything from care of the newborn to breast-feeding problems. Then there was the well-woman clinic where she helped with a range of issues, including family planning and pre-conception advice. Aside from a few snatched work-related conversations at the practice, including news of the safe delivery by C-section of Avril Harvey’s baby daughter on Monday, there had been little chance to see her at all.

  But tonight, all being well, Chloe was his…for a few hours, at least. And he planned on making the most of them, talking, learning more about each other, just being together so she would feel more at ease and begin to trust him. He frowned, realising how involved his emotions were becoming with this woman. Perhaps it was time to stop doubting himself, to stop worrying that this was all happening sooner than he had planned and just see where the road ahead might lead…for them both.

  Oliver glanced at his watch. He loved his job, gave one hundred per cent to his patients at all times, but he was longing to be alone with Chloe and he had another half an hour to go before both their clinics ended and he could take her home. With a resigned sigh, he pressed the buzzer and prepared to welcome his next patient.

  ‘Let me take him for you,’ Oliver offered with a smile, rising to his feet to help the harassed-looking young woman who struggled to manoeuvre a double buggy into the consulting room, one child aged about two strapped in and complaining noisily, a bab
y of a few months held in her free arm.

  ‘Thanks so much.’ The woman gratefully handed over the baby to Oliver’s care, her answering smile rueful. ‘Whoever said having the two so close together was a good idea wants their head examined.’

  Chuckling, Oliver balanced the baby against his chest. ‘Take your time,’ he advised, waiting while she parked the buggy, sat down and endeavoured to quiet the fractious two-year-old.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She brushed a few strands of mousy hair back from her overheated face.

  ‘No problem.’ Oliver glanced at the notes, familiarising himself with the Anker family’s names. ‘What can I do for you today, Juliet?’

  ‘It’s Leo,’ she informed him, referring to the baby he was still holding. ‘He has a cold—in this weather, can you imagine!—and he seems to have trouble breathing sometimes.’

  ‘Let me have a look at him. How long have you noticed the problem?’

  Juliet bared Leo’s chest so Oliver could listen to his lungs. ‘Just a couple of days. I’m probably worrying about nothing, but…’

  ‘It’s always better to be safe than sorry.’ Oliver gave her a reassuring smile before resuming his thorough examination. ‘His lungs are clear,’ he told her a short while later, looping his stethoscope round his neck. ‘Everything sounds fine. And his temperature is normal. When is Leo’s breathing worse?’

  ‘Mostly when he’s trying to feed.’

  Oliver checked the notes once more. ‘And are you still breast-feeding?’

  ‘Yes. I really wanted to. I had trouble managing it with William, but Chloe was wonderful, helping me through both pregnancies and supporting me afterwards. I had no problems at all feeding Leo,’ she explained proudly, dressing the baby again.