Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4)

by Autumn Macarthur

  Probably accelerated by doing the procedure. Not to be relied on or acted on without further evidence, and plenty of prayer to discern God’s will. But if He wanted them to meet again, He had a plan and a purpose for them, too.

  That thought made her intrigue him even more than she already did.

  If a relationship between them was forbidden, that was only temporary, only as long as he filled in for Patrick. He could use the six weeks to get to know her better, discover if the feelings lasted.

  The procedure was only the beginning.

  Just as he’d told the students, falling in love was only the beginning.

  Whatever it was, something had begun here, and he wanted to find out where if could take them.

  After the class ended, he went back to the office, hoping she’d be there and might have lunch with him. Instead all he found was a note she’d left on his desk.

  I called the hospital. We can see Patrick. I have an off-campus meeting. If I’m not back by 5.30, please meet me in the main hospital entrance at 6pm. See email for map. Z

  Nothing feminine or flowery about her decisive black handwriting.

  Either she was out of the office all afternoon, or they kept missing each other. She could even be deliberately avoiding him.

  Whichever it was, he didn’t see her.

  Between his scheduled meetings to deal with the admin that went with the new job, he looked up Patrick on the university website, then on Linked In. In his late fifties, the man had published an astonishing number of papers.

  Gabe couldn’t resist finding Zoe’s profile too. She looked all serious researcher in her photo, unsmiling, intense blue eyes challenging the camera, glasses held in one hand and resting against her cheek. Every inch a woman on a crusade to prove her theory was right. He bookmarked the page, to come back to.

  I.T. finally set him up with his own log-in for the secure staff intranet, letting him dig deeper into Patrick’s course materials and lesson plans. He brought up Zoe’s job description. Not a word in there about teaching. Half her time was to be spent assisting Patrick with his research, the other half on her own research.

  Between them, they’d need to cover four jobs. Zoe and Patrick had already been covering for the junior lecturer. He’d help as much as he could. But he needed to start working on the task he’d been employed to do, as well. Getting the counselling course set up in six weeks less than he’d planned would be a major challenge.

  One of his faults was not saying no to unreasonable demands, he knew that. He’d been told in appraisals that he was too nice, that he needed to be more forceful, and fight his corner more. It didn’t come naturally to him. He preferred making peace to making waves.

  This wasn’t the time to start being assertive. Refusing to help meant leaving Zoe to cope with the mess. He couldn’t do that to her. By working together, the two of them could cover the teaching load, both meet their work goals, and perhaps get on better terms too.

  He hoped so. When she dropped her antagonism, she was a delight.

  Even with her antagonism, she fascinated him.

  He dragged his mind off Zoe, and forced himself to wade through the dense officialese of the compulsory staff orientation handbook. By 5.30pm, she hadn’t returned to the office. He’d have to meet her at the hospital.

  Fifteen minutes brisk walking got him there. Although he passed along a busy four lane street, more like the highway back home, this part of London was surprisingly full of green. Parks, open spaces, garden squares. Mom would love the tree in the centre of the brick paved square opposite the hospital, covered with tiny pink blossoms even in winter. He got as far as pulling his phone from his pocket to take a photo for her, before grief hit him like a blow to the chest.

  He’d never be able to share anything with Mom or Dad again.

  A long sighing breath escaped his lungs, carrying a silent prayer for comfort, for a lessening of the sorrow. He still missed them so badly. He still felt so alone.

  To escape the thoughts, he hurried into the hospital.

  As soon as he stepped through the Victorian doorway into the entrance hall, he saw Zoe, standing in a corner looking at the leaflet rack. Somehow, she seemed isolated, even in the bustle of the entryway.

  Her face held sadness in repose, like a Renaissance Madonna. As if she felt just as alone as he did, despite having those happily married parents, a brother and sister, and friends. Clearly she had brains and good career potential, winning her research scholarship was proof of that. Yet those couple of hurtful relationships in her teens wounded her so badly she didn’t believe in love anymore.

  It seemed such a waste.

  He saw the moment she realised he’d arrived. Her head shot up, her posture straightened, and her lips curved in a smile that tried hard but didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Good, you’re early. How was your afternoon?” Her tone held nothing more than polite interest.

  He guessed growing up a pastor’s kid she’d had at least as much practice pretending to be interested as a diplomat did. Maybe more.

  He smiled. “A thrill a minute. I’m sure you remember the joys of all the admin on your first day.”

  Her eyes warmed into something more genuine. She shuddered theatrically. “All those declarations to sign for H.R. No, I will not steal university secrets and sell them. I will not go drunk to lectures. I will not get romantically involved with any of my students, or with my supervisor.” She laughed. “It made me wonder what some people had gotten up to, that they needed us to sign obvious stuff like that.”

  Gabe laughed too, but it felt forced. He was honest enough to know he wanted to get romantically involved with Zoe, and the one question he hadn’t had answered in all the admin today was whether Zoe was off-limits.

  Maybe whatever was between them wouldn’t grow into something serious the way it felt it could, but he knew he wanted to date her.

  It seemed unlikely he’d get the chance. Zoe wasn’t about to unbend in a hurry. But that wouldn’t stop him hoping.

  And after six weeks, once he wasn’t her acting manager, trying.

  “All of that,” he said. “Along with convincing I.T. that I did have a right to an official staff log-on, and I wouldn’t use the computers for hacking. Then the three hundred and sixty pages of the staff handbook.”

  “If you survived all that, you’ll get through anything the university can throw at you.” She pointed to the curving staircase. “Patrick is in the second floor ward. Shall we go up now?”

  In the ward, a nurse showed them to a four bedded bay, then hurried away. Zoe headed for the corner bed. Gabe recognised Patrick from his photos on the university website, but he looked oddly shrunken. Like a balloon with some of the air let out.

  His face brightened as Zoe neared, and she bent to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, before perching in the chair beside his bed. They seemed more like an uncle and a favourite niece than professor and research assistant.

  Gabe hung back, feeling almost intrusive, waiting for her to introduce him.

  “Look what happens when I take one afternoon off work,” she scolded Patrick, genuine warmth and affection in her voice.

  “How was your Paris trip?” The older man grinned, with a twinkle in his eyes and laughter in his soft Irish brogue. “I rather hoped you might meet someone there. You know how I feel about your theories on love.”

  Zoe shook her head, but laughed. “I’ll convince you I’m right one day, you old romantic.”

  Patrick looked over her head, and the twinkle deepened as he noticed Gabe. “Don’t tell me you did meet someone?” He leaned forward in his bed and laughed out loud, a deep hearty belly laugh. Suddenly, he looked more the man he’d been in those photographs. “Please, introduce me. I’ll be delighted to meet your young man.”

  “Not my young man.” Her declaration was emphatic. “This is Dr Gabe Ross. He joined Professor Blaiklock’s team to set up her new counselling course, but the Dean made her loan him
to us. He’s covering your teaching load till you come back.”

  Gabe stepped forward. “Glad to meet you, Professor.”

  “Call me Patrick, please. Thanks for helping out.” Patrick shook his hand firmly enough, then subsided back against the pillows. “I’d worried about the weight of the whole department falling on Zoe’s shoulders.”

  Zoe gave an exasperated sigh and her foot tapped against the bed rail with more than a hint of annoyance. “I would have managed.”

  Patrick smiled and patted her hand. “Very capable shoulders, of course. But they say I can’t go back for at least six weeks. My work and Angela’s work on top of your own research would be too much for anyone to manage, even you.” His lips twisted and his shoulders drooped. “I wish they’d let me back to work sooner. What am I going to do with myself at home for six whole weeks. I’ll go mad.”

  “Let’s see. Give up smoking. Eat less cheese. Start on your cardiac rehab programme. Have a rest from students. Look up those old friends and family of yours back in Ireland. ” Zoe teased him, counting them off on her fingers.

  She seemed more alive and human than Gabe had seen her. It must be only him she went stiff and starchy and withdrawn with.

  “I can’t wait,” Patrick said, with an eye roll that contradicted the words. Then he slumped. “As it is, I’ll be lucky if they ever let me out of here. I need to pass their treadmill cardiograph test. After that, officially I should be set loose. But they won’t let me go home to my flat by myself. I’ll need to contact an agency and hire a housekeeper, or a paid companion, like some crusty old bachelor in a Dickens novel, and give them my spare room. I loathe the idea of a stranger in my flat. But what else can I do?”

  Gabe saw why Zoe had warmed to Patrick. The man was instantly likable.

  He wanted to help Patrick, and he could.

  Impulsively, he stepped nearer the bed to offer a solution.

  Chapter 11

  Despite trying her hardest to ignore Gabe and focus on Patrick, Zoe stayed constantly aware of him, standing at the end of the bed. No matter how much she wanted to forget him, it felt as if he was an electricity pylon, crackling and glowing with energy.

  But she couldn’t pretend not to notice when he stepped forward.

  “I know I’m as much of a stranger as a hired housekeeper would be,” he said. “But could you bear having me move into your vacant room long enough to satisfy the hospital?”

  Patrick instantly brightened and sat up straighter in bed.

  Gabe spread his hands in explanation. “I’ve booked into a budget hotel until I find an apartment I can afford. I don’t mind roughing it, but it’s more ‘budget’ than I expected. More of a students’ and backpackers’ place. I’d be glad to move out. You can stay in touch with what’s happening at the university that way, too. I’m sure I’ll bring work home.” He smiled. “If you’re willing to have me, that is.”

  “Willing?” Patrick shook his head and beamed. “I could hug you, dear boy. The perfect solution for us both. You can bring your suitcases when you come to collect me. Unless you want to take the keys and move in tonight.”

  Confusion jangled Zoe. She pinched her lower lip, and peeked over at Gabe, unsure what to think.

  It did seem the perfect solution. Patrick would have someone there with him, to rein in in from doing too much too soon. Gabe would have somewhere to stay. She wouldn’t need to worry there’d be any gossip if she had to visit Patrick to discuss students or marking.

  But so much for avoiding Gabe for the next six weeks.

  It felt like her life was getting too tangled with his, and she didn’t want that. Bad enough to have him here at all. Worse to have to work with him.

  It seemed there was no escaping the man.

  She sighed. The worst thing of all was, she wasn’t sure she truly wanted to. That procedure worked, way too well.

  Gabe opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if lost for words. “You’re going to trust me with your keys, just like that?”

  “I trust my instincts.” Patrick laughed. “Anyway, presumably the college checked you out before they employed you. And Little Miss I-Don’t-Trust-Anyone has given you her stamp of approval by bringing you here. That’s good enough for me.”

  Zoe was ready to argue, then bit the words back.

  Patrick was right.

  She did trust Gabe, and that wasn’t like her. Not when she’d known someone such a short time. Her usual way was to doubt, to withhold trust, until she had proof the person was trustworthy. She wouldn’t have done the procedure if she hadn’t already felt she could trust him.

  But trusting him was one thing. Getting involved with him was something else again. Especially when she might trust his honesty as a person, but she couldn’t trust the truth of her own feelings for him.

  “Thank you,” Gabe said, flickering that heart-tweaking smile of his at her for a moment before turning back to Patrick. “Tomorrow will be fine. Should we tell the nurse we have a solution?”

  “That’s a good idea. Zoe, would you go find the Sister and let her know they can set me free whenever they’re ready after all?”

  “Sister?”

  “Translated to American - the nurse in charge.”

  She nodded and stood. “Sure.”

  The delight on Patrick’s face at the prospect of getting out of the hospital was worth any amount of extra time she might have to spend with Gabe.

  The back of her neck prickled as she reached the open space between the patient bays, and she looked back at them. Gabe sat in the chair, and leaned toward Patrick as they talked. Something told her she was the subject under discussion. Wily Patrick had very deliberately chosen to send her instead of Gabe, so they could talk.

  If only she could plant a bug on them and find out what they were saying about her. At this distance, she couldn’t make out the words, only the murmur of their low-toned voices.

  Safely unobserved, as Gabe’s attention was on Patrick, she stared. Noticed the way the light gleamed on his thick dark chestnut hair, and how strong the line of his broad shoulders and straight back were.

  The man was such a distraction.

  His kindness to Patrick and his warm questioning smile as he glanced up and saw her looking only added more fuel to the warm glow inside her.

  She raised her eyebrows, pressed her mouth tightly shut to hold back the instinctive curve of her lips in return, then turned and headed off to find a staff member.

  The harassed looking nurse in charge showed no qualms about releasing Patrick into Gabe’s care, and didn’t want to take any details. “As long as he leaves the ward with a responsible adult, that’s all we need. Phone tomorrow afternoon to find out if he’s ready for discharge.”

  Patrick’s voice stopped as Zoe walked back into the bay. He looked up and smiled, but something in his face confirmed her suspicion he’d been talking about her. Gabe’s expression was bland, giving nothing away. She longed to know what they’d been saying, but it would sound way too self-centred if she asked.

  “The nurse is fine with that. We need to ring the ward tomorrow afternoon, and they’ll tell us if you’re good to go.”

  “Marvellous. All set then. I just need to pass their test.”

  Patrick lay back against his pillows. Something lost and desolate in his expression frightened Zoe.

  He sighed, “You know, this whole thing has made me feel very alone and very old. A brush with death tends to concentrate the mind, I’ve found.” He fell silent, and closed his eyes.

  Gabe nodded, his forehead creased in concern. “May we pray for you?” he asked.

  Patrick opened his eyes and raised them toward the ceiling. “Another God botherer, huh? I should have guessed. Pray if you must.” He waggled a finger at Gabe and Zoe, and laughed. “But don’t let me hear either of you doing it. If I get to thinking I’m sick enough for people to want to pray over me, I’ll really start to worry. I survived. Obviously, Jesus doesn’t want me for a sun
beam just yet.”

  Gabe touched the older man’s hand lightly. “You have a deal.” He grinned. “We’ll wait till we’re out of the room, at least.”

  “Good man.” Patrick’s face and tone held a world of weariness, so unlike his usual cheerful zest for life.

  Zoe eyed him. No matter what he’d said, she still sent up a silent prayer.

  In this case, what he didn’t know could do him a lot of good. She might have doubts of her own, but she wasn’t so far gone she’d stopped believing that prayer could change things. “You’re getting tired. We’d better go, and let you rest.”

  He nodded, then seemed to make an effort to perk up. “If you must pray for me, pray I pass their exercise test so they let me out of here. Me on a treadmill. The idea horrifies me.” He shuddered theatrically, and his voice hinted at his old vigour.

  Gabe laughed. “Already prayed for.” He stood. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Zoe leaned over and gave her mentor another quick hug. “You’ll rock the test, for sure.”

  She turned away quickly before he saw the tears in her eyes. If he didn’t want to be prayed over, he certainly wouldn’t want to be cried over.

  “I hope you two have plans to go out to dinner tonight,” Patrick said. Silent laughter vibrated in his words.

  Shaking her head, she didn’t turn back.

  Once they were outside the ward, Gabe took her shoulders and gently turned her toward him. She kept her head lowered. She didn’t want him to see her tears, any more than she wanted Patrick to.

  His hands lifted to her face and raised it. The compassion she saw in his eyes and the sweetness of his smile only made her eyes sting more.

  “Please stop being so nice,” she demanded, struggling to toughen her tone.

  “You care for him, so of course you’re worried about him. I like that.”

  She wanted to reply that she didn’t want him to like her, but his expression stopped her. Instead, she caught her breath, as he grabbed her hands in his firm warm grip.

  “Let’s pray for him, the way we told him we would.” Gabe bowed his head.