‘My hero. The perfect gentleman.’ There was a ghost of sadness in her smile.
And it was that sadness that wiped out his common sense. He wanted to make her smile properly again. ‘There’s one thing you could do,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Marry me.’
‘Marry you?’ she whispered eventually. ‘But you want a family. What would you get out of marrying me?’
Did she really not know? Though he couldn’t find the right words to explain. All he could do was cup her face between his hands, tip her chin, then bend down to touch his lips to hers. A light, gentle kiss. The kiss of a friend.
Except it wasn’t enough for him. He ran his tongue along her lower lip. When her mouth parted, he took more. And more.
And then he broke the kiss.
‘Just think about it,’ he said softly, and walked away.
KATE HARDY lives on the outskirts of Norwich with her husband, two small children, two lazy spaniels—and too many books to count! She wrote her first book at age six when her parents gave her a typewriter for her birthday. She had the first of a series of sexy romances published at age 25, and swapped a job in marketing communications for freelance health journalism when her son was born so she could spend more time with him. She’s wanted to write for Mills & Boon® since she was twelve—and when she was pregnant with her daughter, her husband pointed out that writing Medical Romances™ would be the perfect way to combine her interest in health issues with her love of good stories. It really is the best of both worlds—especially as she gets to meet a new gorgeous hero every time…
Kate is always delighted to hear from readers—do drop in to her website at www.katehardy.com
The Consultant’s Christmas Proposal
Kate Hardy
MILLS & BOON
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For my big sister, Jackie, with love.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
SASKIA groaned. ‘Oh, no. Why does my mobile phone have to ring the very second that my fajitas are about to turn up?’
‘You’re not on call, are you?’ Toby asked, pausing before he poured her a glass of wine.
‘Of course not. I wouldn’t have let you order the wine if I was.’ She scowled and fished her phone out of her handbag, then frowned as she looked at the display. ‘Lydia?’ She hadn’t expected her best friend to call tonight. Anticipation prickled down the back of her neck. Paul was in Canada on business. Was there something wrong with the children? She answered swiftly. ‘Hi, Lyd. Everything OK?’ She tried to ignore the sizzling dish placed before her by the waitress.
‘Saskia, thank God you answered. It’s Paul.’
Saskia’s smile vanished as she heard the panic in Lydia’s voice. ‘What’s happened?’
‘The hospital called from Vancouver. He’s got appendicitis. Saskia, supposing it bursts before they remove it?’
‘Of course it won’t. They’ll keep him under obs before the operation.’
‘He could end up with peritonitis. Or an abscess.’
‘True, but unlikely.’
‘The incision wound might get infected.’
Saskia’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Lydia, will you stop panicking? That’s the worst thing about being a qualified doctor. You know all about the worst-case scenarios.’ Lydia was a GP, currently on maternity leave.
‘Why did it have to happen while he was away on business? I can’t get there. He’s ill and he needs me, and I’m thousands of miles away.’
‘Lyd, stop panicking. If they’ve already called you, that means he’s probably in the operating theatre right now—so you wouldn’t be able to be with him right now anyway. It also means they’ve got to him in time, the appendix is probably in a kidney dish somewhere, and they’re probably sewing him up even as we speak.’
Lydia dragged in a breath. ‘Yeah. Sorry. I’m…’ Her voice tailed off.
‘Worried sick. Of course you are, Lyd. Anyone would be. But they’ll ring you as soon as he’s in Recovery and he’s come round from the anaesthetic,’ Saskia soothed. ‘Look, do you want Toby and me to come over and sit with you while you’re waiting to hear?’
‘I’m just being wet,’ Lydia said, sounding embarrassed.
‘No. You’re missing Paul, you never sleep well when he’s away—and I bet the second you dropped off, last night, Madam woke you up because she’s teething. So you’re sleep-deprived and husband-deprived, not to mention probably hormonal.’ Helena, Lydia’s youngest child, was only five months old. ‘And we’re your best mates, so we’ll forgive you.’ She put her hand