Midwife's Longed-for Baby & the Prince's Cinderella Bride & Bride for the Single Dad (9781488022142)

by Anderson, Caroline; Berlin, Amalie; Taylor, Jennifer

  It was the first time he had questioned his beliefs on the subject and it was unsettling to wonder if he had failed to see the bigger picture. Elliot sighed as he booted up the computer to check his Theatre list. He had done nothing but question himself ever since he had arrived in Beesdale and it was all down to one woman. Polly was responsible for an awful lot of soul-searching!

  * * *

  Polly was exhausted by the time she got home just after seven that night. She’d been called out in the early hours of the morning to Barnsthwaite Farm after Anna Barnsthwaite had gone into labour. Although it was Anna’s second child, it had been a long and gruelling birth, not made any easier by the fact that Anna’s mother-in-law had been there looking after her three-year-old granddaughter. Every time Polly had left the room to fetch something, Mrs Barnsthwaite had been there, staring at her. It had got to the point where she’d felt that she had to say something but, thankfully, the baby had made her appearance then and she had let it pass. However, if that was an example of what she would have to put up with then she couldn’t wait to leave. Even starting afresh, with all its attendant problems, would be better than that.

  She let herself into the cottage, hoping that a cup of tea would help to revive her. There was another mum due to give birth any day and she only hoped the baby wouldn’t choose that night to make its appearance. Closing the front door, she headed to the kitchen then realised all of a sudden that the hall floor was ankle-deep in water. Leaving her bag on the stairs, she paddled through it, her heart sinking as she took in the scene that met her. Water was pouring through the ceiling, obviously coming from the bathroom above. The force of the water had brought down a large section of the ceiling and there were pieces of plasterboard all over the place. The kettle was ruined and the toaster and she didn’t dare touch the electric stove because it was covered with water. The place was a wreck and she had no idea what to do first.

  In the end, she paddled back along the hall and switched off the electricity. Now she had no power either but it was safer than leaving it on and getting electrocuted. Taking her phone out of her bag, she rang the letting agents but the office was closed for the night. She left a brief message and hung up, wondering where to find the stopcock so she could turn off the water. Whether she would be able to spend the night in the cottage very much depended on the state of the bedroom, but she would check that after she had seen to the water.

  Polly paddled back to the kitchen and found the stopcock under the sink. It was stiff from lack of use and resisted her attempts to turn it. Resting her forehead against the sink, she groaned. She really didn’t need this on top of the day she’d had! When there was a knock on the front door she scrambled to her feet, praying that the letting agent had somehow got her message. Hopefully, he could find a plumber and get this sorted out. She hurried along the hall and flung open the door.

  ‘Thank heavens!’ she began then stopped when she realised that it wasn’t the agent but Elliot who was standing on the step. He was holding a sparkly gold gift bag and he went to hand it to her when all of a sudden there was an almighty crash and a wave of water swept down the hall, soaking them both.

  ‘What in heaven’s name is going on?’ he demanded, glaring down at his wet trousers.

  ‘There’s been a leak and I can’t turn the water off,’ Polly explained shortly because she didn’t appreciate being made to feel that it was her fault he’d got a soaking.

  ‘Show me where it is,’ he ordered, stepping inside.

  Polly debated telling him that she could manage, only it was blatantly obvious that she couldn’t. She led him down the hall, groaning under her breath when she saw the state of the kitchen. It had been bad enough before but now the water tank had fallen through the ceiling, completely demolishing it. Water was gushing out of the broken pipes, forming an indoor waterfall over the sink. ‘The stopcock’s under there,’ she muttered, pointing to the cupboard.

  ‘It would be,’ Elliot said as he paddled over to the sink. Water cascaded over him as he crouched down and grasped hold of the tap. It took several attempts before he managed to turn it and by that time he was soaked to the skin.

  Polly stared around at the chaos that surrounded them. Everything was ruined—the dishes smashed, the fridge floating, most of the ceiling on the floor. There was no way that she could stay in the cottage tonight but where could she go? Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with anywhere and it was the final straw. Tears began to pour down her face. She had never felt so completely alone in her entire life.

  * * *

  Elliot felt his insides twist when he saw the tears streaming down Polly’s face. Even though he didn’t want to get involved, he couldn’t ignore what was happening. Stepping forward, he drew her into his arms and held her. He could feel her shaking as sobs racked her body and his insides twisted that bit more. It didn’t seem fair that she had to contend with this on top of everything else.

  He ran his hand down her back in an attempt to comfort her. Her clothes were soaking wet and he could feel the heat of her skin beneath his palm as he followed the line of her spine until he came to the hollow just above her bottom and paused. He knew that he should stop there and not go any further. After all, he was trying to console her, not seduce her, yet the temptation to go that bit further was too hard to resist. His hand moved on, gliding over the shapely curve of her bottom as he felt his breath catch. A lot of the women he had known had been rail-thin, starving themselves to conform to today’s view of feminine beauty, but not Polly. She had curves in all the right places, curves he ached to explore.

  He drew her closer as he let his fingers begin the return journey. His clothes were soaking as well and he could feel her body imprinting itself on his. Heat flowed through him when he felt her breasts pressing against his chest, felt her nipples harden as they brushed against him. He must have made some sort of a sound because her eyes rose to his and he could see the shock they held, along with something else, something that made his heart race. Polly wanted him and there was no way that she could hide how she felt, no way that he couldn’t respond to it either.

  His head dipped until his mouth was just a hair’s breadth away from hers. He could taste the sweetness of her breath on his lips and he shuddered. He had kissed a lot of women over the years but he had never felt this sense of excitement and anticipation that he felt right now. Kissing Polly was something he had never planned on doing. After the last time, when it had so nearly happened, he had sworn he would never put himself in this position again. And yet the thought of kissing her aroused him in a way nothing else had done in years. He knew that he had to kiss her. It was as vital to him as breathing!

  His head lowered until his mouth came to rest against hers and he groaned when he felt a host of sensations hit him. Heat and softness, sweetness and pleasure—it was hard to know which came first, not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the fact that his lips were on hers. In that second, Elliot realised just how much he had longed to do this. Oh, he might have sworn it would never happen but, deep down, he had hoped that it would. He needed this kiss so much—needed it to make sense of everything that had happened lately, all those doubts he’d had, this constant desire to examine his actions. Kissing Polly would prove one way or the other what he was too afraid to admit—that he cared about her. Cared deeply.

  * * *

  Polly could feel the blood racing through her veins when Elliot’s mouth settled on hers. His lips felt so cool at first and yet, beneath the chill, she could sense their heat. That he wanted her was obvious, just as it was obvious that she wanted him, but was it right to allow desire to sweep them away and make them forget all the reasons why this shouldn’t happen? Maybe she did want him to kiss her, but how would she feel after it was over? How would he feel when he realised what he had done? Neither of them was thinking clearly at this moment but that would change: it was bound
to. She couldn’t bear to think that he would regret this kiss, wish it hadn’t happened, blame her because it had. For this kiss to mean anything it had to be regret free, and it could never be that. Elliot wouldn’t let it.

  Polly’s heart was aching as she stepped back. Elliot didn’t say a word but she saw the way his face closed up and guilt overwhelmed her. Should she explain that she wasn’t rejecting him? That she was only trying to spare him even more heartache? She wanted to but she knew that he wouldn’t want to listen. Not now. Not when his emotions were so raw. Not when he was hurting, as she was hurting too.

  ‘It’s obvious that you can’t stay here tonight. You’d better pack a bag.’

  Polly flinched when she heard the chill in his voice, but what had she expected? That he would speak to her lovingly, caringly after she had rejected him? It was hard to find the right note, hard to batten down the need to explain why she had done what she had. Maybe later she would find the right moment, but not now.

  ‘It’s probably not as bad as it looks,’ she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

  ‘No, it’s worse.’ He glanced at the gaping hole in the ceiling then looked back at her. ‘There’s no way you can stay here. You’ve no electricity or water—well, no clean water, anyway. Go and pack a bag and let’s get out of here.’

  ‘But I’ve nowhere to go!’ she protested, hurt almost beyond bearing by the ice in his voice. ‘I can hardly turn up on someone’s doorstep at this time and ask if I can stay the night.’

  ‘I’m sure your friends would happily offer you a bed, but there’s no need to bother them because you’re coming home with me.’ He strode to the door, pausing when he realised that she hadn’t moved. ‘What are you waiting for? I have to get back for Joseph so go and pack what you need. I’ll be outside in the car.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s a good idea?’ Polly said softly.

  He smiled thinly, although there was no trace of amusement in his eyes. ‘If you’re worried that I am going to chance my luck again then don’t be. I’m not that stupid.’

  Polly took a deep breath after he left but it did nothing to ease the pain. She had been trying to spare him any more heartache but it had misfired horribly. Elliot thought that she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her and it was so far from the truth that it would have been laughable if it weren’t so tragic. She had wanted that kiss with every fibre of her being, wanted it more than she had wanted anything in her entire life, and it was a revelation to realise it.

  Polly went upstairs and packed some clothes into a case, her heart racing. Beth had said that she would have known if she’d been in love and Beth had been right too. She hadn’t been in love with Martin. She had loved him as a friend, as someone who could offer her the security she longed for, but that was all. She could see that now, could see that it was why she hadn’t been completely devastated when he had called off their wedding. Oh, she had been hurt and angry, humiliated too, but it hadn’t felt as though her world had ended, had it?

  Picking up the case, Polly made her way downstairs. Elliot was waiting in his car. He got out when he saw her and took the case off her. Polly thanked him politely as she slid into the passenger seat and he nodded as he got behind the wheel, although he didn’t say anything. Maybe he thought there was nothing left to say but she knew there was. There was so much that it seemed to be bubbling inside her head like a boiling cauldron. She wanted to explain why she had stopped him kissing her, plead with him to forgive her, beg him to kiss her again, but how could she? How could she entreat him to do something she knew in her heart he would regret?

  It was why she had stopped him kissing her in the first place and nothing had changed. Not really. Not for him. The fact that she had realised she was falling in love with him would make no difference to him. It wouldn’t alter the fact that he was still in love with his ex-wife, still scarred by her leaving him. All it would do was give him another reason to lock away his emotions, and that was the last thing she wanted. She wanted him to be happy, to build a new life here for himself and Joseph. Maybe it would take time but he had made a start and, once he grew more comfortable about admitting that he had feelings, it would get easier. He would be able to move on and leave the past behind him, maybe even consider having another relationship in time.

  Polly took a deep breath because the truth had to be faced. She wouldn’t be the one Elliot turned to if and when he was ready to start a new relationship. She would have left Beesdale by then and she would be simply part of his past.

  * * *

  Joseph was still up when they got back to the house. Elliot carried Polly’s case inside, mentally gearing himself up for the onslaught he knew would follow as soon as his son saw Polly. Normally, he loved Joseph’s full-on approach to life, the fact that the child wanted to know the ins and outs of everything that happened, but tonight he could have done without it. Done without the questions, done without the answers. He felt too raw to think clearly. Polly had rejected his kiss—rejected him. It shouldn’t have mattered a jot but it did.

  ‘Polly! What are you doing here?’ Joseph came rushing along the hall in his wheelchair when he saw them. He glanced at the case Elliot was holding and his eyes widened. ‘Are you staying the night with us?’

  ‘I…um… Yes.’

  Elliot frowned when he heard the catch in Polly’s voice. They hadn’t spoken on the drive over. There’d been nothing he had wanted to say and obviously Polly had felt the same. It surprised him to hear how upset she sounded now. Was it what had happened to the cottage, he wondered, the loss of her home and belongings? Or was it the aftermath of that kiss?

  It was impossible to know without asking her and that was one question he definitely didn’t intend to raise. He turned to Joseph, forcing a smile when he saw the curiosity on his face. ‘Polly’s cottage is flooded. A pipe must have burst and the water has brought down the kitchen ceiling. She couldn’t stay there so she’s going to spend the night with us.’

  ‘Wow!’ Joseph was agog to hear more but Elliot had no intention of discussing every little detail with him…

  His heart lurched as once again he recalled that kiss. He’d thought Polly had been with him every step of the way; she had certainly given him that impression! How could he have been so wrong? Why hadn’t he realised that it wasn’t what she had wanted? Had he allowed his own desire to blind him to her feelings? Elliot tried to convince himself that it was the explanation but he didn’t believe it. Not when he remembered the way she had looked at him. There had been genuine desire in her eyes, a hunger that had been all too real. So why had she called a halt? Why had she denied herself that kiss when she had wanted it as much as him?

  It didn’t make sense, or at least he couldn’t make any sense of it. As he followed Joseph and Polly along the hall, Elliot tried his best to understand what had happened. Maybe he should have let it go, chalked it up to experience and tried to forget about it, but it was impossible when his heart was aching like this. It had hurt—hurt such a lot to be rejected—and, whilst he hated to admit it, he needed answers. If Polly had wanted him, why had she pushed him away?

  CHAPTER TEN

  POLLY WAS AWAKE early the following morning. She had slept surprisingly well considering everything that had happened the night before. She showered and dressed then made her way downstairs, hesitating when she found Elliot in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked round when he heard her footsteps and smiled, but she could tell the effort it cost him and was overwhelmed by guilt once more.

  She had to explain about that kiss! There had been no opportunity last night with Joseph there. Even after Joseph had gone to bed the right moment simply hadn’t presented itself. Although Elliot had been unfailingly polite as he had asked her if she’d wanted something to eat, she had sensed his withdrawal and refused. She had gone to bed a short time later, still without having said anything, but
she couldn’t carry on this way. It wasn’t fair to let him go on thinking that she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her, but how could she explain without him guessing the truth—that she was falling in love with him? She didn’t want to burden him with that when he had so much else to deal with.

  ‘You’re up early,’ he said, getting up to take another mug out of the cupboard. He held it aloft. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Please.’ Polly watched as he poured coffee into the mug. He was dressed for work although he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket yet. The sight of his broad shoulders clearly outlined beneath the thin fabric of his shirt made a shaft of heat run through her. She had felt the power of his body for herself last night. Their clothes had been soaked through and she’d felt every muscle and sinew when he had held her in his arms. She longed to be back in them again, only without the barrier of clothing this time. She could imagine how warm and smooth his skin would feel…

  ‘Here you go. Milk, no sugar, just how you like it.’

  Polly jumped when he set the mug of coffee on the table in front of her. Her eyes flew to his and she knew that he could see everything she was feeling at that moment—all the desire, all the need… She dragged her gaze away and picked up the mug, her hand shaking as she lifted it to her lips. Would Elliot say something? Or would he opt to let it go rather than deal with any more complicated emotions?

  ‘About last night, Polly, I need to ask you something.’ His voice was calm, controlled, yet she sensed that he was anything but that underneath. This was important to him, vitally important, and she knew that she would have to tell him the truth even if he wouldn’t want to hear it.

  ‘Yes?’ she whispered, her nerves so tightly strung that it felt as though she had shouted the word out loud.