‘What is this?’ he demanded, his voice thick through his constricted throat.
He told himself not to believe, not to hope. He needed to wait, and hear the words.
‘An apology.’ Her voice was ragged, no better than his, and he allowed himself a moment to take that in.
To some degree it made him feel better. Still, he jammed his fists into his pockets as if that might stop him from striding across the room and reaching out for her the way he wanted to.
He moved further inside, wanting to kiss her. Claim her.
But by the way her arms were in front of her chest, her fingers knotting together, he had a feeling she needed to explain herself. Though perhaps not before babbling nervously a little first.
He could let her have that, too. After all, he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what to say, himself.
‘I went to see my grandmother today,’ she breathed, a note of awe in her voice. ‘She told me that I had to thank you.’
‘I shouldn’t have ambushed you at the hospital that day.’ He exhaled sharply. ‘I just thought that maybe the location would be the best place for you to feel in control. Strong.’
‘It’s okay.’ She jerked forward, as though she was going to step up to him, before stopping awkwardly. ‘I owe you an apology, for all those awful things I said. They were horrible, unkind. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘Forget about them.’ Closing the gap he caught her hands, trying to make her look at him. If she did, then he might be able to convince her that it really didn’t matter.
She’d been frightened and cornered and she’d lashed out. Hell, he knew that feeling only too well.
‘I can’t. I didn’t mean them...’
‘I know. Anouk, look at me.’ He crooked his finger under her chin. ‘Forget it. Really.’
‘I can hardly believe you did that for me.’ Anouk smiled wanly, and, to Sol, even that was like the sunshine cracking through the heaviest sky after a thunderstorm. ‘I can hardly believe you cared enough to do it.’
‘It wasn’t a big deal.’
‘It was to me,’ she said earnestly. ‘No one has ever bothered to do anything like that for me before. Not unless they thought they could get something out of it. Usually access to my mother.’
‘She did quite a number on you, didn’t she?’ Sol frowned as Anouk pulled away from him abruptly.
‘My mother was...manipulative,’ she confessed unexpectedly, her frankness taking him by surprise. ‘She treated me like a precious daughter in public, but in private I was an inconvenient burden she couldn’t stand to look at. And I was so desperate for her affection that I spent my whole life, whilst she was alive, turning myself inside out trying to win it. I even made myself sick trying to do everything I could for her. For her love.’
‘The fault was never yours,’ Sol said, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets just so that he wouldn’t haul her into his arms.
He mustn’t crowd her. She would come to him fully when she was ready.
‘I know that. Logically.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘But I grew up in Hollywood, where there are altogether too many sycophants willing to excuse my mother’s behaviour and agree that she was a saint and I was a problem child. And I was too young, too needy, too naïve to argue.’
‘So you ended up believing them?’
‘I saw a twisted kind of relationship where people used each other, all the while bandying about the word love. So I learned it can be a flawed, cruel concept more effective as a weapon than any kind of gift.’
Anger barrelled through him that someone as sweet, intelligent, and kind as Anouk could have allowed people who were nothing to drag her down and think less of herself. She seemed so strong, so sure, it was hard to believe it was just an act.
And yet...not hard at all. Because he saw her. Her virtues and her flaws. And he loved her despite them, or maybe for them.
‘I know you don’t believe me when I tell you that I love you, but it’s true, Anouk. I love you with every fibre of who I am and, if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to make you believe that.’
It felt like an eternity that she stood, watching him, immobile. And then suddenly she took his hand in her smaller ones.
‘That’s the point, Sol.’ She smiled. ‘I already believe you.’
It was like a thousand victories all spiralling through him at once.
‘What changed?’ He couldn’t help but ask.
‘You, contacting my grandmother. It showed you listened to me, you cared, and you understood.’
‘I’ll always listen to you, Anouk.’
‘I think I really believe that,’ she agreed. ‘It’s why I came back, and why I did this,’
He followed her head as it scanned the room, encompassing the entire Christmas scene, not realising that he was pulling her back, closer to him, as he did so.
And, what was more, she was letting him.
‘I love it,’ he murmured, not entirely sure which bit he was talking about.
‘It was the one thing I could think of to show you I had listened, too,’ Anouk babbled. ‘Even if you and Malachi aren’t into it any more, except for the kids.’
‘Shh. I love that you wanted to do something for me. I love that you thought about this, especially when I know how much you hate Christmas. It makes it all the more special that you did this for me.’
‘It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared,’ she admitted.
‘That’s good.’
‘It is?’
‘Sure.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘It bodes well for any kids we might have.’
‘You want children with me?’ Anouk breathed in wonder.
‘If you’d like that.’ He slid his fingers to her chin, tilting her head up until they were eye to eye.
Deep down, she’d always wondered if she would ever want to be a mother. She’d doubted she had it in her. Her life had been about her career as a doctor and nothing else had ever pulled at her.
And then Sol had slammed into her life and everything had changed. She might not have considered babies with him before, but the moment he had mentioned it there had been no doubt in Anouk’s mind that she wanted nothing more than to start a life—and a family—with him.
‘I want children with you,’ she managed, then seemed to draw in a deep breath. ‘And, as for Christmas, it turns out my father always wanted to celebrate the holiday with me. He might not be here, but maybe I can do it in memory of him? Maybe you can help me?’
He felt his mouth crook, a sense of triumph punching its way through him. Who would have thought it would feel this good to be wanted by a woman like Anouk? To want her back?
Before he could answer, she was speaking again. Suddenly serious. ‘And you were right, of course. I was running away.’
‘Understandable,’ he growled. ‘Given the circumstances.’
She shook her head.
‘You misunderstand me.’ She ran her tongue over her teeth, her nerves clearly threatening to get the better of her in a way that touched him deeply. ‘I wasn’t just running away from my grandmother. Or my fear that whatever she or my late father had to say, it wouldn’t match up to the fantasy in my head. I was also running away from you. Or, more to the point, my growing feelings for you.’
It was more than he’d thought she would say. More than he could have hoped she would say. He couldn’t bite his tongue any longer.
‘Whatever you were worried about, don’t be. I love you, Anouk Hart, with all that I am.’
It was the look of wonder in her eyes that made his heart swell so wildly that he feared his chest couldn’t contain it.
‘You still love me?’ she whispered, her eyes scanning his, almost in disbelief.
‘I will always love you. You had to know that, otherwise why come here?’ He arced his arm around the room. ‘Why do all o
f this?’
‘Because I love you, you idiot.’ She snorted, half laughing, half sobbing.
The words spun around him, lifting him and making him feel somehow complete.
‘I can’t believe you did all this yourself,’ he told her at length when the breath in his chest finally felt like his again.
‘Not all myself.’ Anouk offered a wry smile. ‘I had a little help. Quite a bit, in fact.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Libby, Katie and Isobel.’
He groaned loudly, but only half-heartedly.
‘You realise those girls will for ever be able to say that I was wrong and they were right?’
‘I do.’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously, sending a streak of desire straight through him. ‘Just as I know you won’t begrudge them a moment of it.’
‘I won’t,’ he murmured, revelling in the way Anouk’s body was finally moulding to him.
As if she’d always been meant to be there.
‘I love you,’ he repeated, just because it felt incredible to say it. Because he couldn’t get enough of hearing it. Because he didn’t think he’d ever tire of basking in the tender glow of her sapphire gaze when he told her how he felt about her.
Now that her barriers had finally dropped.
‘I love you, too, Solomon Gunn,’ she whispered fiercely, all her tentativeness put aside in that moment. ‘And I will continue loving you for the rest of my life.’
‘I intend to hold you to that,’ he managed gruffly, ‘because I think it will take a lifetime to prove to you how much I love you, too.’
‘Just the one?’ she teased.
‘Trust me, that’s all we’ll need, you and I. Together.’
He couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Lowering his head, he claimed her mouth with his, letting her wind her arms around his neck, and lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around his hips, as her heat poured through him.
And then he laid her down within their twinkling, magical Christmas village scene, and they welcomed in the first perfect Christmas of the rest of their lives together.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Charlotte Hawkes
The Army Doc’s Baby Secret
A Surgeon for the Single Mom
Christmas with Her Bodyguard
The Surgeon’s One-Night Baby
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Highland Doc’s Christmas Rescue by Susan Carlisle.
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Highland Doc’s Christmas Rescue
by Susan Carlisle
CHAPTER ONE
AS THE TAXI rolled up the rise Cass Bellow looked out the window at the snow-blanketed Heatherglen Castle Clinic in northern Scotland. Why had she been sent here?
More than once she’d questioned her doctor’s wisdom in transferring her to this private clinic for physical therapy. Weren’t there plenty of other places in warmer climates? Particularly in her native US. Or, better yet, couldn’t she have just gone home and handled what needed doing on her own? But, no, her doctor insisted she should be at Heatherglen. Had stated that he sent all his patients with extensive orthopedic injuries there. He declared the place was her best hope for a full recovery. Finally, at her argument, he’d bluntly told her that if she wanted him to sign off on her release she must complete her physical therapy at Heatherglen.
As the car came to a stop at the front door she studied the Norman architecture of the building with its smooth stone walls and slate roof. The place was huge, and breathtaking. There were more chimneys than Cass had a chance to count. This place was nothing like what she’d expected. Though it was early November, festive Christmas wreaths made of greenery and red bows already hung on the outside of the lower floor windows. They further darkened her mood.
When she had been given the search and rescue assignment assisting the military after an explosion in Eastern Europe, she had never dreamed she’d end up in traction in an army hospital on a base in Germany. Her shattered arm and leg had finally mended, but she needed physical therapy to regain complete use of them. Now she’d been sent to this far-flung, snowy place to do just that. All she really wanted was to be left alone.
She opened the cab door and wind blasted her. Despite the heat coming from the still running car, she shuddered. As Cass stepped out, one of the large wooden castle doors, decked with a huge Christmas wreath full of red berries, opened. A tall man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with the wide shoulders of an athlete stepped out. With rust-colored hair and wearing a heavy tan cable sweater and dark brown pants, he looked like the epitome of what she thought a Scottish man should be. As he came down the few steps toward her, he smiled.
“Hello, you must be Ms. Cassandra Bellow. I’m Dr. Lyle Sinclair, the medical director here at Heatherglen. You may call me Lyle.”
His thick Scottish brogue confirmed her earlier thoughts. Yet she was surprised by the way the sunny cheerfulness of his voice curled around her name, nudging at her icy emotions. Irritated, she pushed that odd notion away. This doctor was far too happy and personable for her taste. Her goal was to do what must be done with as little interaction with others as possible. She planned on nursing her wounds in private.
“Yes, that’s me.” To her satisfaction her flat, dry tone dropped the brightness of his smile a notch. If she could just get to her room and collapse she’d be happy. Her right side was burning from the ache in her arm and the agony of putting her full weight on her right leg.
“Flora McNeith, the physiotherapist whose care you’ll be under, couldn’t be here to greet you and asked that I get you settled in.” Concern filled his face. “Do you need a wheelchair? Crutches?”
“No, I can walk on my own. Run, that’s another thing.” She pulled at her jacket to stop the biting flow of air down her neck.
A light chuckle rolled out of his throat and over her nerve endings. “I understand. Then let’s get inside out of this weather.” He looked up at the sky. A snowflake landed on the dark red five o’clock shadow covering his cheek.
Cass averted her eyes and gave the cobblestone drive, cleared of snow, a searching look. It was farther than she wanted to walk, yet she wouldn’t let on. The three steps up to the door looked even more daunting.
All she needed was fortitude to make the walk and climb those steps. She had plenty of that. Soft snowflakes continued to drift down as she took a deep breath and steeled herself to put one foot in front of the other. With another silent inhalation, she started toward the entrance. Dr. Sinclair walked beside her.
She managed the first two steps with no mishap but the toe of her short boot caught the edge of the last one. Grabbing at air, Cass finally found the fabric covering Dr. Sinclair’s arm. She yelped with the effort to hold on. Being right-handed, she’d instinctively flailed out that arm and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through it, but not as sharp as it had been weeks earlier. She gritted her teeth, thrusting out her other arm to ease the fall.
Instead of tumbling onto the steps, her body was brought against a hard wall of human torso. The doctor’s arm circled her waist and held her steady. Her face smashed into thick yarn. A hint of pine and smoke filled her nose. For some reason it was reassuring.
“Steady on, I’ve got you.” His deep burr was near her ear.
Cass quickly straightened, getting her feet under her even though pain rocked her. She refused to show it, having already embarrassed herself enough. Her lips tightened. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Glancing a
t him, she got the weirdest impression that the concern in his eyes had nothing to do with her physical injuries, as if he was able to see her true pain. That was a crazy idea. She shook that odd thought off and focused on where she was.
Taking a third fortifying breath, Cass stepped into the massive foyer.
No way was she going to let him see the effort it took to keep walking. She’d lived through much worse. She’d always been self-sufficient. Weakness wasn’t in her vocabulary. As a young girl she had learned the power of being emotionally strong.
Still, that brief human contact had been nice.
There were two enormous cement urns filled with pine and berries on either side of the doors. Cass looked further to see the stone arched beams of the ceiling then on to a grand staircase. On the floor beside it lay a pile of pine wood. Here she was in this strange place for the holidays when all she wished for was home. She would get her arm and leg strong again as fast as she could, then return to America to grieve her loss in private.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” The doctor stood too close as if he was afraid she might stumble again.
“I’m fine.” The words sounded sharp and overly loud in the cavernous entrance hall. If she could just get to her room, she could nurse the excruciating throbbing in her arm and leg. She would be limping by then as well.
“On our way to your room, let me tell you where a few things are. This is Admissions.” He waved a hand to indicate a room off the hall. “Louise, my administrative assistant, and I have our offices there. She’s out this afternoon as well. You two can sort out the paperwork in the morning. I’m sure you’re tired.”
Cass was beyond tired. The effort it had taken her to travel from Germany to Fort William then the drive north had worn her out. She hadn’t recovered anywhere near as much as she wanted to believe.
“Over here is the dining room.” He walked across the hall and stood in a wide doorway.
Cass joined him. Despite her physical distress, she loved his accent. It was soothing, for some reason.
The room he wanted her to see was long and wide with a dark barrel ceiling sculpted out of wood from which hung large, black iron chandeliers. A fireplace Cass could stand up in filled the wall on the far end with flags arranged overhead. The walls were partially covered in wainscoting. Above that were a few male portraits in impressive frames. A huge table, surrounded by imposing matching chairs, capable of seating at least twenty people, stood in the center of the room. An oriental rug in blue and red lay beneath it. The only thing out of place was a pile of greenery on the floor in one corner and a few boxes stacked beside it.
Unwrapping the Neurosurgeon's Heart Page 17