Read Best Friend to Perfect Bride (Contemporary Medical Romance) Online

Authors: Jennifer Taylor

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Medical Romance, #BFF, #Best Friend, #Lover, #Doctor, #Wedding Day, #Divorce, #Pediatrics, #Feelings, #Nurse, #Buried Feelings

Best Friend to Perfect Bride (Contemporary Medical Romance) (4 page)

BOOK: Best Friend to Perfect Bride (Contemporary Medical Romance)
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‘Hmm, I’m not sure if most estate agents would class it as that,’ he replied lightly, not wanting her to guess how disturbed he felt. He hadn’t realised that she understood him so well, hadn’t thought that she even
cared
enough to try. And that thought was the last one he needed when he and his libido were having such a hard time sorting themselves out.

‘Right. I’ll make us some coffee.’

He hurriedly set about filling the kettle. Opening a cupboard, he took out a couple of mugs and placed them on the worktop. There was fresh milk in the tiny fridge and sugar in the jar so he fetched them as well. By the time he had done all that, he was feeling far more in control. Maybe it had come as a surprise to discover that Bella knew him rather better than he had thought she did, but he wasn’t going to allow it to throw him off course. Maybe he
did
want to hold her, kiss her, do all sorts of things to her he had never even contemplated before, but he wasn’t going to forfeit their friendship for a night of rampant sex. Bella was too important to him; he cared too much about her. And not even what Tim had told him could change that.

It was a moment of revelation, a light-bulb moment that suddenly made everything so much clearer. He may have accepted what Tim had told him. He may even have been hurt and angry about what Bella had done, but he still cared about her. And he always would.

* * *

‘Thank you.’ Bella accepted the cup of coffee. It was too hot to drink and she set it down on the table in front of the couch.

Everything was scaled down to fit, yet, surprisingly, it didn’t feel cramped. She found herself comparing it to the vast amount of space in her rented apartment and realised that she much preferred it here. In fact, she had never felt so at ease in any of her previous homes, not even the house she and Tim had started their married life in.

Tim’s parents had insisted on buying the elegant Georgian town house for them as a wedding present and her parents, not to be outdone, had insisted on furnishing it. However, the designer-styled rooms with their expensive furniture and luxurious fabrics couldn’t hold a candle to this place, she decided. The house had been more an expression of wealth than a real home and it was a relief not to have to live there any longer.

The thought immediately made her feel guilty. It reminded her of how relieved she’d been when she had finally plucked up the courage to leave. It had taken her months of soul-searching before she had reached her decision and it still hurt to know that she had broken her marriage vows, even though she’d had no choice. Tim’s behaviour had become increasingly erratic by that point; he had become a danger to his patients as well as to himself. Leaving him had been the only thing she could think of to shock him into seeking help and it had worked too. But did Mac understand that? Did he understand just how hard it had been for her to break her vows? All of a sudden Bella knew that she needed to find out.

‘It wasn’t an easy decision to leave Tim,’ she said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mac stiffen and experienced a momentary qualm. She had sworn that she wouldn’t try to justify her actions, but she needed to make Mac understand how impossible the situation had been. ‘I agonised over it for months but in the end I realised that I didn’t have a choice. It was the only thing I could think of that might bring him to his senses.’

‘Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d stayed and encouraged him to get help?’ Mac suggested and she flinched when she heard the cynicism in his voice.

‘I tried that, but Tim refused to listen to anything I said. He insisted that he didn’t have a problem and that I was making a fuss about nothing.’ She shrugged, recalling the vicious arguments they’d had. The drugs had changed Tim from the man she had married into someone she had barely recognised. ‘He couldn’t see that he was addicted to the painkillers and needed help.’

‘So you upped and left him?’

Mac regarded her from beneath lowered lids. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, although she could guess. Mac believed that she should have stayed with Tim no matter what, but he hadn’t been there, had he? He hadn’t witnessed the rows, the lies, the empty, meaningless promises to stop taking the drugs.

‘Yes. I hoped that it would shock him into admitting that he had a problem and it worked too. He went into rehab a couple of weeks later.’

‘I see. So why didn’t you go back once he was clean?’ Mac’s brows rose. ‘Tim told me that he begged you to go back to him but you refused. If you loved him then surely that would have been the right thing to do?’

‘It wasn’t that simple,’ Bella said quietly. She stared down at her hands, wondering if she should tell him about Tim’s affair. Would she have gone back if she hadn’t found out about it or had it been the excuse she had needed? Her feelings for Tim had reached rock-bottom by then; the thought of trying to make their marriage work had filled her with dread. The truth of the matter was that she had no longer loved him, always assuming that she had loved him in the first place, which she now doubted.

‘No? It seems pretty straightforward to me.’ Mac’s tone was harsh. ‘What about all those promises you made when you got married? Were they just so many empty words at the end of the day?’

‘Of course not!’ Bella said angrily, hating the fact he seemed determined to blame her for everything. ‘I meant every word I said, but it needs two people to uphold a promise, although Tim obviously didn’t see it that way.’

‘What do you mean?’ Mac shot back. ‘It was you who left him.’

‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’

Bella picked up her coffee mug, feeling infinitely weary. No matter what she said, Mac would continue to blame her. Even if she told him about Tim’s affair, there was no way of knowing if he would believe her. The thought that he might think she was lying about that to save face was more than she could bear. It would be better to say nothing than take that risk.

They finished their coffee in silence. Bella put her mug on the table and rose to her feet. It was gone ten p.m. and time she went home, even though the prospect of going back to the apartment wasn’t appealing. ‘I’d better go. Thank you for the coffee and everything.’

‘Do you know how to get back?’ Mac asked gruffly.

‘I’ll use the satnav.’ She bent and picked up her bag, swaying a little as exhaustion suddenly caught up with her. It had been a long day and add to that the ongoing guilt she felt about the divorce and it was little wonder that she felt so drained.

‘Sit down.’ Mac eased her back down onto the couch. Taking the bag off her, he placed it on the table then crouched down in front of her. ‘There’s no way that you can drive yourself home in this state. You’ll have to stay here tonight.’

‘Oh, but I couldn’t possibly,’ Bella began but he ignored her. Standing up, he crossed the cabin and opened a door at the far end to reveal a tiny bedroom complete with double bed.

‘You can sleep in here,’ he informed her brusquely. Picking up one of the oil lamps, he placed it on the shelf next to the bed, turning down the wick so that the room was bathed in a soft golden glow. ‘The sheets are clean and you should be comfortable enough. Bathroom’s through there,’ he continued, pointing to a door leading off from the bedroom. ‘It’s only basic but there’s everything you’ll need.’

‘But where are you going to sleep?’ Bella protested, more tempted than she cared to admit. Maybe it was foolish but the thought of staying on the boat was the most wonderful thing she could think of. She felt safe here—safe, secure, protected: all the things she hadn’t felt in ages.

‘The couch pulls out into a bed so don’t worry about me,’ Mac told her. Opening a cupboard, he took out a T-shirt and tossed it onto the bed. ‘You can use this to sleep in. I haven’t anything else, I’m afraid.’

‘It’s fine. Thank you,’ Bella said softly.

She sank down onto the bed after Mac left, feeling the last vestige of strength drain from her limbs. Picking up the T-shirt, she held it to her cheek, savouring the softness of the cotton against her skin. Tears filled her eyes again and she blinked them away but more kept on coming, pouring down her face in a scalding-hot tide. She hadn’t cried before, not even when Tim had said all those awful things to her after she had told him that she wanted a divorce. Now Mac’s kindness had unleashed all the feelings she had held in check and they came spilling out, all the hurt and the pain, the guilt and the relief, every single thing, including how she felt about Mac himself.

Bella took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think about Mac and how confused he made her feel. It had always been the same and yet she couldn’t understand why he made her feel so mixed up. Normally she had no difficulty making up her mind. Every decision she had ever made had been carefully considered, rationalised, even when she had agreed to marry Tim.

Marrying Tim had seemed like the right thing to do. He had come from a similar background to hers, had held the same values as well as the same expectations. To her mind, their marriage was bound to be a success; however, with the benefit of hindsight, she could see that it hadn’t been enough. It had needed more than the fact that they had been compatible on paper—her feelings for Tim had needed to be much stronger, especially after he had become addicted to those drugs. She had failed Tim because she hadn’t cared enough, because she wasn’t sure if she was
capable
of feeling that deeply about anyone.

Lying down on the bed, Bella clutched the T-shirt to her as sorrow overwhelmed her. She had spent so many years ignoring her emotions that she had lost touch with them. No wonder she couldn’t understand how she felt about Mac.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE
GENTLE
MOTION
of the boat woke Mac from a restless sleep. It had been the early hours of the morning before he had finally dozed off, his mind too busy to allow him to rest. Last night had been unsettling for so many reasons, the main one being that Bella had slept right here on the boat. Several times he had heard her crying and he’d had a devil of a job to stop himself going to her. However, the thought of what might happen if he did had helped him control the urge. It would have been far too easy to allow the need to comfort her to turn into something more.

His body responded with predictable enthusiasm to that thought and he groaned. He had to stop this! Maybe it was time he thought about breaking his self-imposed vow of celibacy. So what if sex had become merely a physical release, like an itch that needed scratching? Surely it would be better to deal with the itch than allow it to turn into a major problem.

Rolling out of bed, he filled the kettle and set it to boil then opened the hatch to let some fresh air into the cabin. It had been raining through the night and he grimaced as raindrops splashed onto his head and shoulders. Picking up a tea towel, he dried his face then looked round when he heard the bedroom door open, his heart lurching when he saw Bella standing in the doorway. She was wearing the T-shirt he had lent her and although it came midway down her thighs there was still an awful lot of her shapely legs on view. His gaze ran over her, greedily drinking in every detail. Although his T-shirt was huge on her, somehow the washed thin cotton managed to cling to her body, outlining the curve of her hips, the hand-span narrowness of her waist, the swell of her breasts...

Mac sucked in a great lungful of air when he saw her nipples suddenly pucker beneath the cotton. Rationally, he knew that it was no more than a physical response to the chilly air flowing through the cabin, but after the night he’d had, thinking rationally wasn’t easy. His wayward thoughts flew off at a tangent as he found himself imagining how it would feel to watch her nipples harden as he caressed her...

He groaned out loud, hurriedly turning it into a cough when he saw her look at him in alarm. ‘Hmm, a bit of a frog in the throat this morning,’ he muttered, reaching for the coffee.

‘It is a bit chilly in here,’ she replied, hugging her arms around herself, and Mac saw the exact second when she realised what was happening. Colour rushed up her face as she hurried back into the bedroom. Picking up her sweater from the end of the bed, she dragged it over her head. ‘That’s better,’ she said brightly as she turned round.

Mac wanted to disagree. He wanted to do it so badly that the words got all clumped up in his throat and almost choked him. He had to content himself with nodding, which was probably the safest response anyway.

‘Anything I can do? Make the coffee? Or how about some toast—I could make that, if you like?’

Bella hovered uncertainly in the doorway and Mac’s feelings underwent yet another rapid change. Tenderness swamped him as he pointed to the bread bin. Bella’s composure was legendary. Even when they’d been students, she had always appeared to be totally in control. He couldn’t remember her looking so out of her depth before, so that all he wanted to do was to put her at ease.

‘Seeing as you’ve volunteered, you can be on toast duty. There’s no toaster, I’m afraid. You have to do it the old-fashioned way under the grill.’ He lit the grill for her. ‘Butter’s in the fridge and there’s marmalade in that cupboard over there.’ He pointed everything out then headed to the bedroom. ‘I’ll have a shower while you’re doing that if it’s OK with you?’

‘Of course.’

Bella nodded as she took a loaf out of the bread bin. Picking up the bread knife, she started to cut it into slices, the tip of her pink tongue poking out between her lips. Mac turned away, not proof against any more temptations so early in the day. He didn’t want to think about her tongue and how it would feel stroking his...

There was plenty of hot water for a shower but he turned the dial to cold instead. Stepping under the icy spray, he shivered violently. If there was one thing he loathed more than anything else it was a cold shower but he didn’t deserve a hot one, not after the way he’d been behaving.

Lusting after Bella simply wasn’t on! Quite apart from the fact that it would ruin whatever friendship they had, he couldn’t do it to Tim. Tim may have kicked his drug habit but, like any addict, he was very vulnerable. Mac couldn’t bear to imagine the harm it could cause if he and Bella had an affair, not that it was on the cards, of course. However, the fact that he was even
thinking
about Bella in such terms was a warning in itself. Now that she had forfeited her married status, it didn’t mean that he was free to make a play for her. No, to all intents and purposes nothing had changed. It was still Bella and Tim.

* * *

Bella had their breakfast ready by the time Mac reappeared. He was wearing a pair of navy chinos with a blue-and-white striped shirt, and it was a relief to see him safely covered up. Maybe he had been decent enough before but the T-shirt and shorts he had worn to sleep in hadn’t left very much to the imagination. To her mind, there’d been a rather disturbing amount of leanly muscular body on show.

Heat flowed under her skin as she hurriedly placed the toast on the table. She added the coffee pot along with the milk jug and sugar bowl, determined not to allow her mind to get hijacked by any more such foolish ideas. She had seen men wearing a lot less than Mac had worn that morning in the course of her work so it was stupid to start acting like some sort of...
inexperienced
virgin
!

‘I could grow used to this.’ Mac grinned as he sat down and reached for the coffee pot. He filled both of the mugs, adding milk and several spoons of sugar to his. ‘It’s a real treat to have my breakfast made for me.’

‘It’s the least I can do,’ Bella murmured, sitting down opposite him. Her knees bumped against his and she hastily drew her legs back out of the way, steadfastly ignoring the odd tingling sensation that seemed to be spreading from the point where their knees had touched.

She was bound to feel
aware
of him, she reasoned, adding a dash of milk to her coffee. After all, it wasn’t as though she had made a habit of spending the night with a man, was it? She had never had an affair, had never even indulged in any one-night stands like so many of her contemporaries at university had done. She had only ever slept with Tim, in fact, so spending the night with Mac was a whole new experience for her.

The thought unsettled her even more. It seemed to imply that she’d had an ulterior motive for spending the night on the boat. It wasn’t true, of course; it had been necessity that had forced her to stay, the need to rest and recoup her strength. The past year had been extremely hard. Between the stress of the divorce and the move to Dalverston, it was little wonder that it had felt as though she had reached rock-bottom last night. However, she felt much better this morning, less anxious and more like her old self. Spending the night here with Mac had worked wonders and it was just a shame that she couldn’t do it again.

Bella bit into her toast, more surprised by that thought than she could say. Bearing in mind how confused Mac made her feel, she should be trying to avoid him, surely? And yet there was no denying that if he had offered to let her stay again tonight
and
the night after that, she would have accepted with alacrity. Being with Mac might be unsettling but in a good way.

They finished their breakfast, making desultory conversation as they ate. Mac sighed as he drained the last dregs of coffee from his mug. ‘I’d better get a move on or I’ll be late. Are you working today?’

‘No.’ Bella picked up her mug and plate. She carried them to the tiny sink and pumped water into the bowl. ‘I’m working over the weekend so I’ve got today and tomorrow off.’

‘Lucky you.’ Mac picked up his dishes and brought them over to the sink. He checked his watch and grimaced. ‘I really will have to fly. Fingers crossed that they haven’t changed the times of the buses, otherwise I am going to be seriously late.’

‘Bus? Why do you need to take the bus?’ Bella queried, rinsing their mugs and setting them to drain.

‘I left my motorbike at the hospital last night.’

Bella sighed. ‘Because you drove me back here? Of course. Sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He reached for his jacket, patting the pockets to check that he had everything. ‘Look, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to cut and run...’

‘Here. Take my car.’ Bella picked up her car keys. She shook her head when he started to protest. ‘I insist. It’s my fault that you left your motorbike at the hospital so it’s the least I can do.’

‘But what about you?’ he demanded, his dark brows drawing together. ‘How are you going to get home?’

‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll call a taxi.’ Bella pressed the keys into his hand. ‘Go on, off you go or you’ll be late.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Mac grinned at her. ‘Has anyone told you how bossy you are?’

‘Not lately,’ Bella retorted. She followed him up to the deck, pausing when he stopped. His blue eyes were very dark as they met hers.

‘Sure you’ll be OK? I feel as though I’m abandoning you.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said briskly, although she was deeply touched by the sentiment. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her this way. ‘I’ll be perfectly fine. I’ll tidy up then phone for a cab... Oh, wait, what’s the address? I’ve no idea where we are.’

‘Too-Good Lane.’ Mac dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled supermarket receipt. He jotted down a number on the back and handed it to her. ‘Phone Dennis and ask him to come for you. He’s a nice chap and very reliable. You’ll be safe with him.’

‘Oh, right. Thank you.’ Bella went to slip the paper into her pocket before she remembered that she didn’t have any pockets. She took a hasty step back when she spotted a jogger running along the towpath, suddenly conscious of her state of undress. She could just imagine what people would think if they saw her standing here wearing one of Mac’s T-shirts. They would assume that she and Mac had spent the night together and, although they had, they hadn’t
slept
together! Heat flowed under her skin as the thought triggered a whole raft of images: Mac’s eyes, so deep and dark as he stared down at her; the feel of his hands as he stroked her body from throat to thigh...

A shudder passed through her and she turned away, terrified that she would give herself away. She heard Mac call a cheery goodbye as he leapt off the boat, even managed to respond, but everything seemed to be happening at one step removed. All she could think about were Mac’s hands stroking and caressing her.

Bella hurried back inside the cabin and stood there with her arms hugged tightly around herself. She had never felt this way before, never experienced this overwhelming surge of desire. Although she had enjoyed making love with Tim in the beginning, she had never yearned for his touch. However, with a sudden rush of insight she realised that if Mac made love to her it would be very different. She wouldn’t be able to remain detached then—she wouldn’t want to. If Mac made love to her, she would be unable to hold anything back, not even a tiny scrap of herself. Mac would unleash her passion, awaken her desire and, once that happened, it would be impossible to go back.

She shuddered. She would be changed for ever, a completely different person, a woman who not only felt but
needed
to feel too. She wasn’t sure if she could cope with that.

* * *

Mac was thrown in at the deep end as soon as he arrived at work. There’d been an accident on the by-pass involving a lorry and a coach ferrying children to the local high school. Thirty-three casualties were brought through their doors and each one needed to be assessed and treated. Fortunately, Trish Baxter, one of their most experienced staff nurses, was on duty and she performed triage. The less seriously injured children—those with only minor cuts and bruises—were told to wait while the rest were farmed out between cubicles, treatment rooms and Resus. Fortunately, there were just two children badly injured enough to require the facilities of resuscitation and Mac dealt with them. Twelve-year-old twins, Emily and Ethan Harris, had been sitting together at the exact spot where the truck had hit the coach.

‘Hi, I’m Mac and I’m a doctor,’ Mac explained as the paramedics rolled the youngsters in on their respective trolleys. He listened attentively while the crew outlined the children’s status. Emily had injuries to her right arm and was in a great deal of pain, while her brother was having difficulty breathing. Ethan had been thrown into the aisle by the force of the impact and trapped under the seat, which had come away from its housing. It was more than likely that he had fractured ribs which could be compromising his breathing if they had pierced the pleura—the two layers of membrane that covered the lungs and the chest wall. If blood had entered the pleura cavity it would compress the lungs and cause a partial collapse. Mac knew that the boy required urgent treatment and turned to Helen Robertson, the F1 student, who was working with him.

‘You take the girl. She’ll need X-rays first and then we can tell exactly what we’re dealing with. If her shoulder has popped out its socket it will need putting back before the nerves are damaged. You also need to check if the humerus is fractured. OK?’

Helen nodded, looking a little daunted at being put in charge of a patient. Mac watched as she hurried to the phone to request the services of the duty radiographer. She would manage fine, although he would keep a close eye on her. However, if she was to develop her skills then she needed to step up to the plate, as every young doctor had to do. He turned his attention to Ethan, checking his pulse and oxygen levels. Bailey Thomas, the Australian specialist resus nurse, was assisting him and Mac nodded when he asked if Mac intended to aspirate.

‘Yep. I reckon there’s blood in the pleural cavity, don’t you? Let’s see if we can drain it off and help him breathe a bit easier.’

BOOK: Best Friend to Perfect Bride (Contemporary Medical Romance)
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