Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby

by Anne Fraser / Lynne Marshall

  ‘In that case, I say yes, I’d love to go.’

  With Jonathan helping, it was difficult but manageable to get her father along with his wheelchair into the roomy back seat of the car Jonathan had brought instead of his sports car. When they arrived at the football stadium, Jonathan flashed something at the security guard and drove up to the front gate. With him on one side of her father and her on the other, they used the lift to reach the box where they were to be seated.

  ‘Always wanted to see the footie from one of these fancy boxes,’ Tommy said when they had seated him with a rug over his lap. ‘Never could afford it.’

  ‘We can go inside the lounge and have lunch first, if you like?’ Jonathan suggested.

  Tommy shook his head. ‘You two go. I’m just as happy to stay here now I’m settled.’

  ‘And I’d rather stay with you, Dad.’ Rose turned to Jonathan. ‘But please don’t let us keep you from your lunch. We’ll be fine here until the match starts.’

  ‘Then I’ll go and fetch us something to have here. I don’t want to eat on my own. Any preferences?’

  Several minutes later, Jonathan returned with a tray full of various goodies to eat. Rose noticed that he’d included several items that would be easy for her father to eat with his one good hand. Once more she was surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness. Her father was a proud man and wouldn’t have touched anything that meant Rose had to help him in public.

  As they waited for the match to begin, Jonathan and her father chatted about previous matches. It was the first time she had seen her father looked so animated since his stroke and she sent silent thanks to Jonathan. Doing this had surely been outside expected behaviour for an employer. She guessed it was to repay her for seeing to Lord Hilton. Whatever the reason, Rose knew she was in danger of falling for her boss. Her heart gave a sickening thud. Two more things she’d have to add to her list. Watching a football match from a box and falling in love for the first time.

  Despite her father’s team losing in the final seconds of the match, it was a good day and Rose was disappointed when it came to an end.

  Jonathan drove them home, dissecting the game in excruciating detail with her father while Rose sat back in her seat, allowing their chat to wash over her. She was falling for a man with whom she had nothing in common. Why now? When, even if he could ever feel the same about her, she had no future to offer him? Perhaps it was because she didn’t know what the future held that she believed herself in love? If what she was feeling was love. It was certainly lust. Infatuation. Every time he smiled her stomach somersaulted. Whenever he was in the room her heart would start pounding and she would feel short of breath. If he touched her, even the slightest pressure of his hands as he passed her a mug of coffee or a set of notes, her knees would go all rubbery. But it was more than that, she knew, and her heart dropped to her boots. Regardless of his reputation as a womaniser, he was kind and gentle. Would anyone else have given up what he had just to take the ailing father of an employee to a football match? Rose doubted it.

  Her mother was waiting for them when they arrived home. She too seemed better for having an afternoon off, although Rose knew that the sight of her father looking as he once had was worth more to her mother than any number of afternoons with her feet up.

  Jonathan helped her father settle back into his chair. Rose could hardly look him in the eye in case he read her mind. It would be too mortifying for words if he guessed how she felt.

  ‘I’ve asked Rose if she’d like to come to a party with me tonight,’ Jonathan said suddenly. ‘But she’s turned me down.’ He turned the full voltage of his charm on her mother, who was already putty in his hands.

  ‘Rose?’ Her mother turned to her. ‘You didn’t say no, did you?’

  ‘I can’t go, Mum. I’m needed here,’ Rose said.

  ‘Don’t be silly. We can manage. Besides, you could do with some fun. You’ve been looking awfully peaky lately.’ Rose could see the worry in her mother’s searching look.

  ‘And I don’t like my staff to look peaky,’ Jonathan added. ‘I promise you, if you get there and you aren’t enjoying yourself, I’ll bring you straight home. Or we can miss the party. Do something else.’

  Rose capitulated. The truth was, right now she could think of nothing she wanted more than to have more time with Jonathan. Who knew how many opportunities she had left? If she only had a short time left, this was how she wanted to spend it.

  ‘Okay, you’re on,’ she said. ‘On one condition. Tonight you come with me and meet some of my friends.’ She held her breath as she waited for his reply. Whatever he wanted from her, she had to know if it included wanting to spend time with her on her own territory. If he wasn’t simply using her as an excuse to avoid whatever demons he had in his life, she needed to know that too.

  ‘You’re on.’ Jonathan grinned. ‘Lead me to it.’

  Jonathan sat in the pub feeling, he had to admit, slightly awkward. Rose had been engulfed by a load of her friends and he hadn’t seen her for at least ten minutes. Someone, he couldn’t remember who, had stuck a pint of beer in his hand and instructed him to drink up. Why was he here? And more importantly, why was he so driven to find out more about Rose Taylor? There were any amount of women he could be dating, ninety nine per cent of them less prickly than her and none of whom would be insisting that he get up and sing. He groaned internally. Apparently getting up on stage was part of the evening entertainment. And Rose had made no attempt to hide her glee when she had told him that he’d be expected to stand up and do his bit. Still, he was damned if he was going to admit defeat. He just prayed that none of the paparazzi had followed him here. Thankfully, it was extremely unlikely. It would never cross their minds that he’d be found in a pub on the outskirts of London.

  The pub was packed for a special Scottish themed night, with people coming from all over London for it. The place was filled with laughter and the chinking of glasses.

  Rose squeezed her way into the seat behind him. Instead of the usual tied-back hair she had loosened it until it fell about her shoulders in a sleek glossy wave. Her eyes sparkled and a small smile played on her lips. He had never seen her so animated.

  Suddenly there was a call for silence and after a few minutes everyone quietened down. A man Rose had introduced earlier as Jack, an old friend, had climbed onto the make-shift stage and was speaking into a microphone.

  “Most of you know Rose,’ he said.

  There was loud applause as everyone cheered and stamped their feet. Rose blanched slightly and muttered something under her breath. ‘What some of you don’t know is that Rose composes her own songs and plays the guitar as if she’s making love to it.’

  There were more wild cheers. Jonathan slid a glance at Rose. She played the guitar. This was the first he had heard of it. And wrote her own songs.

  ‘I know she’ll be happy to play us a tune—if we give her a loud cheer.’

  There was more applause and stamping of feet. If anything, the uproar was even louder than before. Rose was shaking her head, her hair falling across her crimson-stained face. Then she got to her feet and amid more cheering made her way to the stage.

  She took the microphone from Jack’s hand. ‘Sorry, everyone,’ she said into the mike. ‘I didn’t bring my guitar with me tonight. So I’m afraid I can’t play for you.’ There was a sigh of disappointment then Jack turned round, holding a guitar which someone had passed to him.

  ‘Sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘But we just so happen to have one here for you to play. Go on, you can’t let everyone down.’

  Reluctantly, Rose took the guitar from him. Someone pulled a chair across for her and she sat down, trying a few tentative chords. All the noise dropped away until there was complete silence.

  ‘Okay, I’ll play one song for you.’ She held up a finger to emphasise her words. ‘I’m going to play “Fear A Bhata”. It’s a Gaelic song my mother used to sing to me when I was a little girl. She sang it to me whene
ver she was missing Scotland, which was often. I’m playing it tonight for everyone who is far from home.’

  In the silence Rose strummed a few chords then her husky voice wrapped itself around the packed room. Jonathan didn’t need to be able to understand the words to know it was full of longing and loss. The sound of her voice did something to his heartstrings that he’d never experienced before. He was transported to a world where people longed for something they couldn’t have. The Rose up there on the stage was a revelation to him. In the place of the shy, mousy Rose he had come to admire and respect was a beautiful woman who sang as if she knew all about heartache and loss. A woman with depths to her he had never guessed existed. A woman he found exciting yet restful. In that moment he knew that he was falling for Rose and the thought scared him witless.

  When the final notes of Rose’s song had faded away, there was complete silence followed by a burst of applause. There were cries of ‘More’ but Rose just shook her head and passed the guitar back before stepping off the makeshift stage.

  Jonathan was finding it difficult to concentrate. For once he didn’t know what to do. She slid back into the seat next to him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

  ‘You didn’t tell me you could sing like that!’ Jonathan said.

  Rose smiled briefly. ‘It’s not as if it’s ever come up. It’s just something I do for fun. When I’m in on my own and it’s raining outside. Sometimes, when something touches me, I make up my own songs. I guess it’s my way of relaxing.’ She glanced at him and he could see the teasing look in her eyes. ‘I’ve never sung in public before. I didn’t think I could.’ If he had found her interesting before, now he knew he wanted to know everything about this woman who was so unlike anyone he had ever met.

  Then there was a sudden movement as chairs and tables were lifted and piled up at the sides. A group of three had taken to the stage. One was carrying an accordion, the other two fiddles.

  Rose flashed him a grin. ‘Can you dance?’ she asked. ‘It looks like you’re getting away with singing tonight.’

  Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Depends what kind of dancing you’re talking about. I do a fairly mean waltz and not a bad foxtrot, but I’m getting the distinct impression that it’s not the kind of dancing you’re talking about, is it?’

  ‘Nope.’ Rose’s grin grew wider. ‘They do two types of dancing here. One is Scottish country dancing, the other line dancing. You must have learned Scottish country dance at your school in Scotland, surely?’ Jonathan felt a wave of relief. They had been taught the formal Scottish dances with their intricate steps. He could do that all right. But, still, there was that suspicious little smile hovering on Rose’s lips. It unnerved him.

  He stood up and as the band struck up a tune and invited everyone to take their places for an eight-some reel, he held out his hand to Rose. ‘Shall we?’ he asked.

  But if he’d thought he was going to be dancing a dance that he had learned, he soon found out he was badly mistaken. Oh, the steps were the same, but the pace was quite different. It all happened at breakneck speed and in response to the fervour of the dancers, the band increased their tempo. Soon he was part of a dervish dance where everyone’s feet were moving at the speed of light. As he whirled Rose around, her hair fanned out behind her. Then he was dancing with another partner who was forcing him to move ever faster. Not before time, the dance ended and Jonathan was able to get his breath back. But the respite was brief. Immediately the music struck up again. The Canadian barn dance was followed by the Boston twostep and the Highland Scottische. All carried out at breakneck speed. He just gave in to it and soon he found he was enjoying the exhilarating pace and being swept up by the rest of the dancers. For the last dance, the tempo slowed and the band asked everyone to take their partners for a St Bernard’s waltz.

  He pulled Rose into his arms, breathing in the scent of her as she placed her head on his shoulder. At first she was stiff in his arms, but as the music continued he felt her relax against him. It was strange how they seemed to fit together.

  ‘So what do you think so far?’ She raised her face and looked into his face with her amazing china-blue eyes. ‘Not your cup of tea, I’m guessing?’

  ‘Then it’s clear you don’t know me at all, Rose Taylor. How about we go to that party Jessamine mentioned for our next date?’

  His words took even him by surprise. Just what was he getting into here? He felt her pull away, but he wrapped her back in his arms.

  ‘Our next date?’ she said, her face flushing. ‘But this isn’t a date, is it? Just two friends out together.’

  ‘Is that what you really think?’ he said. ‘Come on, Rose, pretending doesn’t suit you. You and I both know that there’s more to it than that. I want to get to know the real Rose Taylor and I suspect you’re not immune to me either.’

  She raised her face to look him directly in the eye. ‘We both know that we can’t have a relationship,’ she said flatly.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked.

  She looked back at him. ‘You know why not,’ she said steadily.

  ‘I’m not sure I do.’

  ‘I don’t think mixing work and personal life is a good idea.’

  ‘Why? Aren’t we doing that now? I’m having a good time. Aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes but…’ She trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

  She was thinking she wasn’t from his world and he wasn’t from hers, Jonathan mused. Admittedly, they had different upbringings, different friends, different lives, but what the hell did it matter? Not to him. It did to her, though. Her expressive face couldn’t hide her obvious disapproval of him and the frivolous lifestyle she believed he led. She seemed so sure they had nothing in common. But he had never felt this at ease in a woman’s company. And he knew he had never wanted a woman the way he wanted her right now.

  ‘Can’t we just go out and have fun? As friends?’ he asked, knowing damn well that he had no intention of just staying friends with her. ‘Let’s just see where this takes us? No promises on either side. Just two people who enjoy each other’s company getting to know each other better.’

  ‘I’m not very good at casual relationships, Jonathan,’ she said. ‘I know it’s not very modern, but there you go, that’s the way I am. I can do nothing about my background, but I won’t change who I am just to suit you.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to. I won’t push you to sleep with me if that’s what’s worrying you.’ He was unable to stop himself smiling at the thought of Rose naked in his arms. ‘I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I’m guessing you could use a friend right now.’

  ‘I do have friends,’ Rose protested, waving her hand in the general direction of the room.

  ‘But we can never have too many, can we? Come on, what do you say? Have a little fun. If you don’t need friends, you do need something to take your mind off work.’ He dropped his voice. ‘And what’s happening at home.’

  If only he knew that what was happening at home wasn’t the whole of it. And hadn’t she told herself she would make the most of whatever time she had left? Take tonight, for example. Although Jack had tried to get her to sing in public before, she had always refused; the thought had scared her senseless. But then she had remembered her promise to herself and had forced herself to take the guitar. By closing her eyes she had been able to let herself pretend she was back in her room, alone, and once she had started singing she had lost herself in it. She had poured her heartache, the loss of her future into the music. And it had felt good. The applause had taken her by surprise; she had almost forgotten there were other people in the room.

  When she’d opened her eyes, it had been to meet Jonathan’s green eyes looking at her with what? Admiration? Surprise? Something was changing inside her, and she wasn’t convinced it was just down to her illness. Somehow being with Jonathan made her feel as if she could do anything. The thought took her breath away. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t part of her plan.
But if she couldn’t offer him a future, well, neither was he suggesting one. She held out her hand. He looked at her in surprise before enveloping it in his. His hand was cool in hers, his long fingers those of a surgeon. A thrill ran up her spine. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to know what it would feel like to be held in his arms. To have his mouth pressing down on hers. To lose herself in him—even if it was only for a short time.

  ‘Okay.’ She found herself smiling. ‘I give in. I’ll go with you to the party tomorrow.’ She wagged a playful finger at him. ‘But only because I’ve never been to a party on a yacht before.’

  Jonathan grinned. ‘If that’s what it takes, I’ve plenty more types of parties to tempt you with.’

  Chapter Six

  IT WAS bucketing down, Rose saw as she peered out from her bedroom window the next morning. So much for the start of summer. Her stomach was a mass of butterflies as she thought about the day to come. If she hadn’t been so determined to follow through on the promise she had made to herself she would have been tempted to find an excuse not to go. Once again, she wondered if she was admitting the whole truth to herself. It wasn’t just her vow to grab life with both hands while she could, it was that the life, just tantalisingly out of her reach, now held Jonathan. Who knew how long he’d be in her life? And she wanted to spend every minute she could with him. She was making memories that would have to last her a lifetime, however long that might be.

  Pushing away the morbid thoughts, she considered her meagre wardrobe critically. The trouble was she didn’t have the vaguest idea what one was supposed to wear to a party on a yacht. In the end she settled on her standby little black dress she always wore when she needed something more formal than her usual skirts and jeans. The best thing about it was that it was cut in a way that made her bony frame look sophisticatedly curvaceous instead of the sharp angles she was used to seeing.