A Very Special Proposal

by Josie Metcalfe

  ‘I’m sorry, Harry, but what can I say? If you’re just too slow off the mark to get there in time…’ she teased as she stepped back to give him room, drawing off the gloves and dropping them into the bag Zach was holding open for her.

  She smiled up into his dark eyes, and when she was struck by a sudden urge to trace his straight brows and lean jaw with her fingers and to stroke the sleek darkness of his hair, she realised that her feelings were now even more wired than they’d been when she’d left the hospital just…she glanced at her watch…well, it wasn’t even half an hour ago.

  She gave a shudder and suddenly realised that she was completely soaked to the skin.

  ‘I know it was a factor in the accident, but I hadn’t even registered that it was still raining,’ she exclaimed in disbelief, bending to retrieve her sodden jacket from the roadway. It was only when she turned to make her way back to her car that she realised the full extent of her dilemma. ‘Zach!’ she wailed, ‘I haven’t even got any transport to get home!’

  ‘I’m giving you a lift,’ he said as though it was a foregone decision. ‘Did you have any important errands you needed to do, or were you going straight home?’

  She’d intended showering and changing her clothes and putting on fresh makeup before she drove herself over to his house for the next step in her ‘Amy sorts her life out’ campaign. Now she wouldn’t have to.

  ‘That’s a bit academic, when we’re both as wet as this!’ Her laugh had a touch of hysteria as she gestured from her own suit—the third one she’d ruined recently—to the thin cotton scrubs plastered against his skin. ‘The only place we need to go is into the nearest hot shower before we get pneumonia.’

  She was looking directly up at him when she made the suggestion and saw the flash of desire that dilated his pupils, making his eyes look darker than ever. Her heart lifted at this evidence that he wasn’t immune to the attraction between them either, and she was more determined than ever to find out whether there was any possibility of a long-term relationship between them.

  ‘Doctor?’ interrupted a female voice beside her, and Amy could have groaned aloud with frustration. ‘If I could have a brief word?’ the voice continued, and there was PC Frostic with a wry smile on her face. ‘Hello, again. It doesn’t look as if I’ll be getting another chance to drive that gorgeous car,’ she mourned. ‘Have you got a local garage you want to contact to get it moved? Only it needs to be done as soon as possible so we can get the main entrance to the hospital cleared.’

  ‘It’s serviced at Greville’s, if that’s any help,’ Amy offered, a bit at a loss over the organisation of such a situation as it had never happened to her before.

  ‘They’re good,’ the policewoman said, ‘but I can’t see them being able to do much with it in that state. It looks like a write-off to me. The impact has probably turned the chassis into a banana.’

  Amy had enjoyed her car, but just at this moment she really couldn’t bring herself to care what happened to it. All she wanted to do was to grab Zach and hold onto him and to tell him that she loved him. Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor the place.

  ‘I’m quite happy for you to do whatever you think best,’ she said, trying to control her impatience. ‘Will you need access to it for accident investigators to do their thing? I presume you’ll be giving me an incident number so I can inform my insurers and they can do all the behind-the-scenes stuff.’

  Why was she still here, babbling on about things that didn’t matter a jot in the eternal cosmos, when the most important thing in her world was to go home with Zach and tell him she loved him?

  ‘If Dr Willmott gives you carte blanche to do whatever you think best now, and she promises to do all the other legalities later, will that be all right?’ Zach interrupted. ‘Only she’s been soaked to the skin for nearly an hour now.’

  PC Frostic’s eyes flicked from Zach to Amy and back again, and a hint of a smile tilted the corners of her mouth.

  ‘I’m sure that will be quite all right, Doctor,’ she said, and then the smile broadened just a little before she added softly. ‘But we won’t be contacting her until tomorrow, at least.’

  And with that, their part in the whole emergency was over.

  Any pedestrians had been driven away by the miserable weather as much as by the lack of anything interesting going on. The traffic was moving relentlessly on the nearby main road, while people wanting to enter or leave the hospital car park were being guided past the entangled vehicles one by one by a uniformed policeman.

  Even the ambulance had gone, taking Joyce and her little daughter—her name changed to Amy in her novice midwife’s honour—away up to the warmth and safety of the nursery.

  ‘Are you ready to go?’ Zach offered with a shiver of his own.

  ‘Tell me you brought your car to work today,’ she begged through chattering teeth.

  He shook his head. ‘It’s the bike or nothing.’ There was a strange gleam in his eyes that set a thrum of excitement humming inside her.

  ‘Like this?’ she demanded, gesturing towards the blouse that was almost transparent when it was wet and knowing that he’d already noticed the effect that the cold water was having on her body. ‘With you in your scrubs and me in a skirt again?’

  ‘It’s the only way to travel!’ he teased, and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  As if her answer could be in doubt.

  ‘All right, then,’ she said, trying to sound resigned rather than excited by the prospect. ‘If we’re going to do it, let’s get on with it before we both freeze to death.’ Then she shrieked when he suddenly grabbed her hand and started running back across the car park towards his bike.

  ‘Slow down!’ she demanded, laughing too much to run properly.

  ‘Can’t. We need to run to get warm. And besides,’ he added in a softer voice, almost as though talking to himself, ‘we’ve already wasted enough time.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ZACH felt Amy’s slender arms wrap even tighter around him as he accelerated, her body leaning trustingly against his, and he swore aloud, glad that he hadn’t taken the time to activate the intercom between the helmets.

  He’d come so close to losing her that it didn’t bear thinking about. Just a second or two sooner pulling out of the car park and that bike would have slammed straight into her, doing heaven only knew what damage.

  And then, instead of a fit of the vapours after such a near miss, she’d calmly coached a terrified woman through the final stages of labour in the back of a car. Was it any wonder that she’d begun to occupy most of his waking thoughts…and all his dreams, too? If only there was some chance that there could be any sort of a future for them but, the situation being what it was…

  ‘Put it plainly, man,’ he muttered under his breath, as he swung the bike into the turn that would take him off the main road, revelling in the fact that Amy automatically leaned into it with him as though they’d been riding together for years. ‘You can’t deny that you first fell for her at school, or that she didn’t feel the same way, otherwise she would hardly have enlisted her father to show you the door.’

  And that had been after it had taken him weeks to screw his courage up to invite her to the school leavers’ dance; weeks when he’d combined the endless hours of study necessary for him to have a chance of passing his exams with extra hours crammed in at the Friary each weekend to earn the money to hire the appropriate clothing. He could still remember the way Sheila and Melvin had shaken their heads and muttered under their breaths that he was burning the candle at both ends, the memory warming him with its evidence that they’d cared about him.

  ‘Still, being knocked back had a good side,’ he murmured, as he made the final gentle turn into his driveway. ‘Not only did it permanently put me off getting involved with people beyond my means, but it made me more determined than ever to qualify as a doctor, so I suppose I should be grateful.’

  Anyway, in spite of the fact that he’d succeeded a
gainst all the odds and was hopefully heading towards his consultancy, the situation between Amy and himself was essentially no different to what it had been all those years ago. She was still the princess to his pauper because, no matter how far up the career ladder he climbed, her social set would never accept him. He would always be the loser from the wrong side of town.

  It was time he accepted reality, he lectured himself silently, even as he revelled in the touch of Amy’s hands around his waist. Fooling himself that he’d been given a second chance with her was nothing more than that…foolishness.

  Apart from anything else, he was the reason why her relationship with her parents was in a mess, because they knew he wasn’t good enough for her, and that was the bottom line.

  The logic of his thoughts made him cold to the bone but it was the result of the passage of air over his inadequate clothing that had chilled him so that it was difficult to reach forward to switch off the engine. Not that he was in any hurry to do so, with Amy huddled tight against him, perhaps for the last time.

  He finally turned the key and removed it and the world became blissfully silent, until he removed his helmet to hear the convulsive chattering of her teeth.

  Cursing himself under his breath that he hadn’t thought to put her in a taxi instead, he quickly disposed of her helmet then scooped her up into his arms, smiling wryly at the romantic image it would present to anyone watching.

  ‘I can w-walk!’ she exclaimed, even as she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him.

  ‘You’re frozen stiff and it’s quicker this way,’ he countered unsteadily, unable to take his eyes off the long length of perfect legs draped over his arm, her skirt still trapped around her hips from the journey. And, anyway, he was enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms, her slender body now plastered against the front of him instead of his back. It was a small enough indulgence to store in his memory for all the days to come.

  There were plenty of regrets stored away in there already. Impossible fantasies such as having her in his bed with that wealth of honey hair spread out across his pillow as she beckoned him to join her, while knowing that it would never happen, and more simple ones such as the fact that he’d never danced with her.

  And she felt so right in his arms, he realised as he regretfully lowered her feet to the floor in the quiet warmth of his hallway. He’d held onto her for as long as he could, juggling keys and doors until the last possible moment just because it felt so good.

  ‘Will you come dancing with me one day?’ he blurted out, and could have bitten his tongue off when he saw the startled expression on her face. That brought him to his senses quicker than a slap and he could feel the heat of a teenager’s blush flooding its way up his throat and into his face as he turned away.

  ‘Forget I said that,’ he muttered, mortified that he still couldn’t get it right even after all these years. ‘Wrong place, wrong time.’

  Wrong man, he added to himself as he headed rapidly towards the kitchen to switch on the kettle.

  ‘Zach?’ Amy hastily called him back when it looked as if he was going to leave her standing there, her thoughts in complete turmoil.

  Had he really asked her to go dancing with him, after all this time?

  It was something she’d dreamed about and woven into her fantasies for so many years, but it had taken him just as many years to ask, so that she’d almost given up hoping. Hearing the actual words had taken her completely by surprise.

  When she’d called his name he’d stopped walking away from her, but it wasn’t until he reluctantly turned back towards her and she saw the expression on his face that she realised how much her apparent hesitation must have hurt him.

  ‘I’d love to go dancing with you, Zach…if you meant the invitation?’ Her heart was pounding and she hardly dared to breathe as she waited for his reply.

  ‘What changed your mind?’ he demanded stiffly, the expression in his eyes hidden, as ever, by those lowered lashes. ‘I’m still the same Zach Bowman I always was—the rebel from the wrong side of town with hardly two pennies to rub together. I’ll never be in your social class, as your father kindly pointed out.’

  ‘My father?’ It must be the cold that was making her brain work so slowly because she really couldn’t understand what he was talking about. When would her father have spoken to Zach? She’d seen her parents leave the hospital just before she had, and they certainly hadn’t spoken to him then.

  He gave a cynical laugh. ‘Surely you haven’t forgotten? The time I asked you to a dance—the school leavers’ dance—and you delegated your father to turn me down. He probably didn’t do it quite as delicately as you would have face to face, but he left me in no doubt that you wouldn’t welcome any further invitations from me.’

  ‘The school leavers’ dance…?’ It was unbelievable that she’d only been thinking about that just days, or was it hours ago. ‘I didn’t know!’ she exclaimed breathlessly, as surging joy that he’d actually wanted to go with her warred with bitter disappointment that her father really had interfered.

  His expression told her he didn’t believe her and she hurried towards him, words tumbling out of her mouth as she tried to find the right ones to convince him.

  ‘I did want to go with you, Zach,’ she insisted urgently. ‘I was dropping hints about it for weeks. Don’t you remember?’ There was still no softening of his expression, or in the rigid muscles under her hand where she gripped his arm.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ She flung both hands up in the air in exasperation and swung around to pace the length of his hallway and back. ‘Can you honestly imagine me giving my father instructions to tell a potential dance partner never to darken my door? Surely you’ve realised what he’s like—what both my parents are like with their outdated class consciousness and air of superiority. The only thing they’re interested in is a person’s social standing, not what they’re like inside.’

  He sighed and to her relief she saw the taut line of his shoulders relax. ‘When you put it like that, it does sound rather…Victorian, doesn’t it?’ he admitted ruefully. ‘And it would tie in with what was going on at that fundraiser when you shanghaied me into getting you out of there, and—’

  ‘Oh, if only you’d asked me before we left school. My father would never have had a chance to interfere!’ she exclaimed, and something in his expression made her ask the obvious question. ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Male ego,’ he admitted wryly. ‘I didn’t dare do it at school in case you turned me down in front of all those witnesses. I thought that if I went to your house, I could ask you on your own.’

  ‘And, instead, got my father,’ she said, with a convulsive shudder that had everything to do with sodden clothing, chilled flesh and exhaustion.

  ‘Dammit, what on earth are we doing, yakking down here when you’re freezing?’ he said, when he saw her nearly topple off her feet.

  ‘It’s not just the rain,’ she explained, as he ushered her solicitously up the stairs then led the way towards the bathroom. ‘Almost as soon as I finished my shift, I had a couple of visitors.’ She gave an abbreviated version of the bombshell Sharon Lees had delivered.

  ‘It was Edward’s baby?’ He’d stopped so abruptly that she nearly ploughed into his back and his expression was almost murderous when he turned to face her.

  ‘It couldn’t have been anyone else’s,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘The resemblance to his baby photos was uncanny.’

  ‘And…how do you feel about…?’ He shrugged.

  ‘Relieved, if you want the truth,’ she admitted bluntly, hoping she hadn’t shocked him. ‘It was very hard, living up to the image, and now I don’t have to any more.’

  ‘The image?’ He’d leaned back against the wall and with his face partly shadowed she couldn’t see his expression well enough to judge what he was thinking. Not that it would make any difference, because she wasn’t going to hide her thoughts and feelings any more.

  ‘That
I had to be the perfect grieving widow of the perfect cardiothoracic surgeon who died a hero when, in fact, all I was really grieving for was what I hadn’t had.’

  ‘Such as?’ he prompted.

  ‘Such as a husband who didn’t value me for anything more than my good blood lines and the way they would help him up the career ladder. Such as a real home where you could curl up with a box of chocolates and a good book rather than a picture-perfect residence where the style police could visit at any moment without finding a single fault. Such as a family that didn’t have to wait until all its father’s ambitions had been fulfilled before it could come into being.’

  Zach slowly shook his head and a laconic smile tilted his lips. ‘The man was a fool not to realise what he had,’ he said softly. His eyes were caressing her as they took a leisurely journey over her face, lingering at her mouth until she couldn’t help the flick of her tongue moistening them in subconscious invitation.

  She saw him swallow, his throat moving convulsively in response, and she heard the husky groan that followed as he dragged his eyes away and straightened up abruptly.

  ‘The bathroom is between the two bedrooms, accessible from both,’ he said raggedly. He pushed open the door beside him to reveal a room that Amy instinctively knew was his, with its minimalist decor and the clean lines of the pale wood furniture. The colours ranged from ivory through toffee to dark chocolate and was an invitation to relax and unwind…except relaxing was the last thing on her mind when she watched Zach’s long-legged stride taking him to the door on the opposite side of the room, and she realised that his scrubs were still delineating that powerful body to perfection.

  ‘You can have the first shower while I go and make us a hot drink. Which would you prefer, tea or coffee? Or I might even have some hot chocolate lurking at the back of a cupboard. There are plenty of clean towels in the cupboard and…’ His voice died away when he turned and caught sight of the tears that had suddenly appeared from nowhere to trickle down her face.