Kisses at Sunset

by Sarah Morgan

His jaw clenched and he brushed away her tears with his thumb, a strange look in his eyes. ‘Don’t think about that now. We’ll talk later.’

  She had to let him know that it wasn’t his responsibility. ‘I don’t want to marry you, Sean. You can relax.’

  He didn’t look relaxed. Far from it. In fact, if anything he seemed tenser than ever, his gaze a mixture of anger and frustration as he scowled at Jack. ‘Are we ready? We need to get her down.’

  Nobody spoke much as they made their way down the mountain. They were all too busy concentrating on the path in the darkness and foul weather, and all the way Ally was conscious of Sean right next to her. And he stayed right next to her until she was wheeled into a cubicle in the A and E department.

  The consultant, Malcolm Roberts, strode in, and Sean gave him a brief nod, reporting Ally’s condition succinctly and watching like a hawk while she was examined.

  The consultant questioned her carefully and frowned at the cut on her head. ‘I’ll get someone to stitch that for you.’

  Sean tensed. ‘I’ll do it.’

  The consultant took one look at Sean’s face and nodded. ‘Fine. I’ll get a nurse to help you.’

  ‘I want to take her home tonight.’

  Malcolm glanced up from the notes he was writing. ‘Will someone be with her?’

  Sean was looking at Ally, his expression unreadable. ‘I’ll be with her.’

  ‘In that case, I don’t see why not.’ The consultant carried on writing and then slipped the pen back into his breast pocket. ‘You know what to look for. Any worries, just bring her back.’

  ‘One other thing.’ Sean cleared his throat, his eyes still on Ally. ‘She’s pregnant. She’s had no lower abdominal pain but I’d like her scanned.’

  Malcolm paused and then nodded. ‘No problem. I’ll ring the labour ward and arrange it for you.’

  * * *

  Ally lay still during the scan, not daring to look at Sean. She’d expected him to make his excuses when it had come to the undeniable evidence of their child, but he’d stayed firmly by her side while she’d been wheeled into a side ward on her own, and was standing out of her line of vision. Was he watching?

  ‘It all looks fine.’ The ultrasonographer smiled at her and wiped the jelly from Ally’s abdomen. ‘No worries there. He’s well protected at the moment so it’s unlikely he came to any harm.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Ally gave her a shaky smile and watched her leave the room, feeling suddenly awkward to be alone with Sean. ‘I’d better get dressed.’

  ‘No, wait!’ He raked long fingers through his cropped hair, looking thoroughly agitated and very, very male. ‘Dammit, Ally, we need to talk and I don’t think I can wait until we get home.’

  Her hands clenched. She wasn’t up to this. Later, maybe she’d be able to pretend she could cope with losing him, but not at the moment when she felt so vulnerable and he was being so protective.

  ‘Sean, I really can’t—not now…’

  ‘I just want you to listen, that’s all.’ He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, prising her hands apart and taking them in his. ‘This has, without any doubt, been the worst day of my life.’

  Her heart stopped and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘You mean, seeing the baby?’

  ‘Dammit, no!’ His voice was raw with emotion and he dropped her hands and rubbed his temples with long fingers. ‘I don’t mean that at all! Seeing the baby was—well, it was incredible.’

  He stood up abruptly and walked over to the window, turning his back on her so that she couldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘I don’t know where to start. I wasn’t going to say any of this until we got home but I don’t think I can wait that long.’

  Her heart was thudding in slow motion. ‘Say what?’

  There was a long silence. ‘I’ve never let myself trust anyone. I suppose in a way I was trying to test what the social worker told me.’

  Ally fixed her eyes on those broad shoulders which were still shutting her out. ‘And what was that?’

  ‘That I was difficult. I was a difficult baby, a difficult toddler and a difficult teenager. My mother couldn’t cope and so she gave me away. I wasn’t the dream baby she’d imagined—’

  ‘Sean—’

  ‘I was passed from foster-family to foster-family and all the time I grew more difficult. Whenever I went somewhere new I pushed them to the limit. Testing them. Trying to find a family who’d love me unconditionally, I suppose. It didn’t take me long to start believing that that kind of love didn’t exist outside fairy stories. Not for me, anyway.’

  Ally felt scalding tears fill her eyes. ‘Oh, Sean—’

  ‘I’ve never been any good at relationships but I know I don’t need to tell you that.’ He stared out of the window, his voice flat and expressionless. ‘All through my childhood, whenever I started to feel affection for someone I was moved on. You’ve no idea what that does to a child—feeling unwanted. Unloved. In the end I told myself I didn’t need it and developed a defence mechanism. The only person I relied on was myself. I never allowed myself to love anyone in case I lost them.’

  ‘Please, come here, Sean.’

  His shoulders stiffened but he still didn’t look at her. ‘When I grew up I just kept the same pattern. I never allowed myself to love anyone because I couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if it didn’t last. So I was always the one in control. The one who ended the relationship. And I’d come across so many miserable kids from broken homes in my time in care that I resolved never to risk having a child of my own in case the relationship went wrong.

  ‘And then I met you.’ He turned slowly and his eyes clung to hers, all the pain of his traumatic youth revealed in those dark depths. ‘You were everything I’d ever dreamed of. Strong, gentle, clever, feminine, shy, sexy—so many things all in one package. I wanted you badly.’

  Her blue eyes were soft. ‘I wanted you, too.’

  ‘That night when we made love—’ He broke off and stared out of the window again, his eyes distant, remembering. ‘You were so warm and giving and innocent, and I felt as though I never wanted to let you go. All I wanted to do was hold you and protect you. I’ve never felt like that about another person before.’

  ‘And you panicked.’

  He turned his head to look at her, a wry smile playing around his hard mouth. ‘Panic barely begins to describe it. Suddenly I felt vulnerable, and I’m not used to feeling like that.’

  Ally felt a sudden rush of love and sympathy. It was taking so much courage for him to admit these feelings, feelings which he was used to keeping hidden deep inside himself.

  ‘And then you found out I was pregnant.’

  ‘Yes.’ His jaw clenched but his eyes held hers. ‘I felt as though the ground had shifted underneath me. As if everything I’d ever believed in had collapsed. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘Of course it was my fault. I’d virtually seduced you—tempted you and teased you until you’d wanted me, too. If I had been so bothered I would have questioned you more closely, but the truth was I was so desperate for you that it wouldn’t have made any difference what you’d said to me.’

  ‘You didn’t seduce me.’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘You were a virgin, Ally.’

  ‘I still knew what I was doing.’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’ He shrugged and glanced out of the window again, fighting for control. ‘Either way, you were pregnant and I was suddenly forced to confront all those feelings I’d ducked all my life.’

  ‘You don’t have to—’

  ‘Dammit, Ally, stop saying that!’ He slammed his fist against the wall and glared at her. ‘Of course I have to! It’s my baby, too.’

  ‘But you don’t want it.’

  ‘I do want it. I don’t want this baby growing up, not knowing its father.’

  His eyes burned into hers and she
felt her heart tear into two. How could she stand it? Seeing him occasionally with their child but not having him for herself? How would she ever get over him if he was constantly re-entering her life? It would be the worst possible torture but she couldn’t deny him his rights, either for his sake or that of their child.

  With a huge effort she managed what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘I’d never stop you seeing your child, Sean. I’m not like that.’

  He contemplated her in silence, a muscle flickering in his hard jaw. ‘I’m not talking about visitation rights, Ally.’

  Her cheeks blanched. He couldn’t mean— She sat bolt upright. ‘You wouldn’t take my baby away from me?’

  ‘Take your…?’ He blinked several times, his expression stunned. ‘For God’s sake, Ally, what type of man do you take me for?’

  She swallowed and sank back against the pillows, relief swamping her. ‘I—’

  ‘On second thoughts, don’t answer that question.’ He gave a wry, self-deprecating smile and sat down on the covers next to her, lifting her hands in his and holding them tightly. ‘I haven’t done much to earn your good opinion, have I? First I pursue you relentlessly, then I seduce you, then I tell you I don’t want commitment, and then I round it all off by accusing you of trying to trap me by getting pregnant. It’s no wonder you won’t marry me.’

  ‘Sean, I—’

  ‘No, let me finish.’ He cleared his throat and his fingers tightened painfully on hers. ‘I know you think I’m not capable of commitment but you’re wrong. I never knew how I felt about you until I saw you go down onto that ledge. I thought I was going to go mad with worry. All I kept thinking was that I never should have allowed it, and if anything happened to you I’d have lost everything.’

  What was he saying? ‘Sean—’

  ‘You said you loved me Ally.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Did you mean it?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Of course I meant it.’

  ‘Well, I love you, too.’ He dropped her hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘I’ve never said that to another human being in my life before. I’ve never allowed myself to love anyone before, but with you it wasn’t something I could control. It just happened. You were right when you said that I never take risks. I don’t, usually. Not emotional ones, anyway, but with you I had no choice. I realised that today.’

  Tears slid down her cheeks and she blinked them away. ‘You love me?’

  He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Madly.’

  She sniffed. ‘You want to marry me?’

  The grin widened and he nodded. ‘I’m going to marry you whether you like it or not. Someone has to stop you taking stupid risks.’

  She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘I can’t believe you mean it. I keep thinking I’ve trapped you.’

  ‘You have.’ His mouth hovered tantalisingly close to hers, the look in his eyes turning her legs to jelly. ‘I’m well and truly trapped. Just don’t ever let me go.’

  ‘Never.’ Ally shook her head, her heart thudding in slow motion. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I know you do.’ His eyes softened and his lips brushed hers, his expression wicked. ‘And I’m going to make you prove it—over and over again.’

  Part of her was still anxious. ‘But you’ve never settled in one place…’

  ‘Well, I certainly can’t see myself permanently in a GP practice, you’re right about that.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Rumour has it that Malcolm Roberts is leaving for pastures new, so there’s a vacancy for an A and E consultant coming up.’

  Her face brightened. ‘That would be perfect.’

  ‘No.’ His eyes were suddenly serious, his knuckles brushing her cheek in a gesture of such gentle affection that she felt her breathing stop. ‘It’s marrying you that would be perfect. You do realise you haven’t given me an answer yet.’

  ‘Haven’t I?’ Swamped by happiness, her eyes teased him and she slid her arms round his neck to pull him closer again.

  ‘Well, Dr McGuire?’ He buried his face in her soft hair and gave a groan. ‘Are you willing to take a chance on me?’

  ‘Well, Dr Nicholson, let me think—’ Ally gasped as he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently. ‘The answer is yes. I happen to think you’re worth the risk.’

  * * * * *

  Read on for a sneak peek of

  ONE SUMMER IN PARIS

  by USA TODAY bestselling author Sarah Morgan!

  Grace Porter woke on Valentine’s Day, happily married and blissfully unaware that was about to change.

  Downstairs in the kitchen she added slices of cheese to the bread she’d baked fresh the day before, put fruit and raw vegetables into lunch boxes and then checked her list.

  Number four on today’s list: remind Sophie about dinner.

  She glanced up. “Don’t forget Dad and I are out tonight. Your dinner is in the fridge.”

  Her daughter, Sophie, was messaging a friend. “Mmm…”

  “Sophie!”

  “I know! No phones at the table—but this is urgent. Amy and I are writing a letter to the paper about that development they’re going to build on the edge of town. Dad promised he’d publish it. Can you believe they want to close the dog shelter? Those dogs are going to die if someone doesn’t do something, and that someone is me. There. Done.” Sophie finally looked up. “Mom, I can make my own lunch.”

  “Would you include fresh fruit and veg?”

  “No. Which is why I’d rather make my own.” Sophie gave a smile that didn’t just light her up, it lit Grace up, too. “And you’re starting to sound like Monica, which is a little scary.”

  Her daughter was like sunshine. She made the world a brighter place. For years Grace had been braced for her to rebel, take drugs, or roll in drunk after an illicit party with friends, but it hadn’t happened. It seemed that Sophie’s genetic makeup favored David’s side of the family, which was a relief. If Sophie had an addiction it was causes. She hated injustice, inequality and anything she deemed unfair—particularly when it related to animals. She was the champion of all dogs, especially the underdog.

  Grace was quick to defend her friend. “Monica is a wonderful mother.”

  “Maybe, but I can tell you that the first thing Chrissie is going to do when we get to Europe this summer is feast on a ton of fries to make up for all the years her mom wouldn’t let her touch them.” Sophie finished her oatmeal. “Did you say something about dinner?”

  “Have you forgotten what day it is?” Grace closed the lunch boxes and put one next to Sophie. The other she slid into her own bag.

  “Valentine’s Day.” Sophie slid off her chair and picked up her empty bowl. “The day it becomes public knowledge that nobody loves me.”

  “Dad and I love you.”

  “No offense, but you’re not young, cool and athletic.”

  Grace took a mouthful of coffee. How much should she say? “It’s still Sam?”

  Sophie’s smile faded as if someone had hit the dimmer switch. “He’s seeing Callie. They walk round together holding hands. She keeps giving me these smug smiles. I’ve known Callie since I was three, so I don’t understand why she’s doing this. I mean date him, sure. That sucks, but it’s life. But it’s like she’s trying to hurt me.”

  Grace felt a burning in her chest. Not heartburn, but parenthood. As a mother, her role was to support from the sidelines. It was like being forced to watch a really bad play without the consolation of knowing you could leave in the interval.

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Don’t be.” Sophie put her bowl in the dishwasher and then added the one her father had left on the side. “It would never have worked out. Sophie and Sam sounds pretty lame, don’t you think?”

  Her hurt slid into Grace and settled deep in her gut.

  “You’re going to college soon. After a month in California you won’t even remember Sam exists. You have your whole life ahead of you, and all the time in the world to meet someone special.”
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  “I’m going to study, graduate top of my class and go to law school where I can learn how to sue people who are assho—”

  “Sophie!”

  “Er…not very nice people.” Sophie grinned, slung her backpack over one shoulder and stroked her long ponytail over the other. “Don’t worry, Mom. Boys drive me insane. I don’t want a relationship.”

  That will change, Grace thought.

  “Have a great day, Mom, and happy anniversary. Twenty-five years of not yelling at Dad when he leaves his socks on the floor and his dirty plate on top of the dishwasher. Major achievement. Are you seeing Mimi today?”

  “This afternoon.” Grace slid her laptop into her bag. “I made macarons, like the ones she used to buy in Paris. You know what a sweet tooth your great-grandmother has.”

  “Because she lived in Paris during the war and she had no food. Sometimes she was too weak to dance. Can you even imagine that?”

  “That’s probably why she talks to you about it. She doesn’t want you to take things for granted.” She opened the box she’d carefully packed that morning, revealing pastel macarons lined up in neat rows of rainbow perfection.

  Sophie made a sound that was almost a purr. “Wow. I don’t suppose I could…?”

  “No.” Grace closed the box. “But I might have packed a couple for your lunch.” She tried not to think about the sugar, or how Monica would react to the inclusion of empty calories in a lunch box.

  “You’re the best, Mom.” Sophie kissed her cheek and Grace felt warmth flood through her.

  “Do you need a favor or something?”

  “Don’t be cynical.” Sophie grabbed her coat. “Not many people would teach French at an assisted living center, that’s all. I think you’re amazing.”

  Grace felt like a fraud. She didn’t do it out of any sense of charity, but because she liked the people. They were always so pleased to see her. They made her feel valued.

  It was embarrassing to think she could still be needy at her age.

  “Their French Club is the best part of my week. Today being Valentine’s Day, I’ve allowed myself to be creative.” She picked up the stack of menus she’d designed. “The staff are laying the tables in the restaurant with red-and-white tablecloths. We’re eating French food, I’m playing music… Knowing your great-grandmother, there will be dancing. What do you think?”