The Doctor's Christmas Bride

by Sarah Morgan

‘Sure.’ Bryony smiled and fished in the vegetable basket, hoping that Santa’s reindeer weren’t too fussy. Her carrots had definitely seen better days.

  Lizzie bounced and fussed and squashed some of her other presents but finally she was bathed and in her pyjamas.

  ‘This is going to be the best Christmas ever.’ She hugged Bryony and snuggled down, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. ‘Santa won’t come while I’m awake so I’m going straight to sleep.’

  Bryony bit her lip and then bent to kiss her daughter. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep tight.’

  And with a last wistful look at the blonde curls spread over the pink pillow she switched on the tiny lamp and left the room.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘MUMMY, Mummy, he’s been.’

  Bryony struggled upright in bed, watching as Lizzie dragged her stocking into the bedroom.

  She looked for signs of disappointment but Lizzie’s eyes were shining with excitement.

  ‘This stocking is so lumpy. Can I eat chocolate for breakfast?’ She giggled deliciously as she poked and prodded and Bryony smiled.

  ‘I suppose so. Come into bed and we’ll open it together.’

  ‘In a minute.’ Lizzie dropped the stocking and sprinted out of the room. ‘I’ve got to find my daddy first.’

  Bryony sank back against the pillows and gave a groan. ‘Lizzie, I’ve already tried to tell you, there won’t be a daddy.’

  ‘Well, not in my stocking,’ Lizzie called back, ‘because no daddy would fit in there, silly. I’m going to look under the tree.’

  Bryony closed her eyes, listening to the patter of feet as her child raced downstairs, and she braced herself for Lizzie’s disappointment. It was perfectly obvious that all the dolls in the world weren’t going to make up for not having a daddy on Christmas day.

  She should have tried harder.

  She should have used a dating agency or gone speed-dating.

  She should have tried anything.

  Deciding that she’d better go downstairs and comfort Lizzie, she swung her legs out of bed and then heard a delighted squeal from the sitting room.

  Bryony froze. What could Lizzie have possibly found underneath the tree that excited her so much?

  Maybe the doll was a hit after all.

  And then she heard a laugh. A deep, male laugh that she would have recognised anywhere.

  Jack?

  Hardly able to breathe, she tiptoed to the top of the stairs and peeped down, a frown touching her brows as she saw Jack sprawled on the carpet under her Christmas tree, talking softly to Lizzie who was sitting on him, giggling with excitement.

  ‘Jack?’ Bryony walked down the stairs, holding the bannister tightly. ‘What are you doing here? Why are you lying under my Christmas tree?’

  He sat up, his blue gaze curiously intent as he looked at her.

  ‘Because that’s where Christmas presents are supposed to be.’ His voice was husky and he gave her a lopsided smile. ‘And I’m Lizzie’s Christmas present.’

  Bryony felt a thrill of hope deep inside her and then she buried it quickly. Lizzie’s Christmas present. Of course. He was doing this because he couldn’t bear to see Lizzie disappointed. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Sooner or later he’d have to confess to Lizzie that it wasn’t real.

  ‘Jack.’ Her tone was urgent but he simply smiled at her and then sat up, still holding Lizzie on his lap. He reached under the tree and handed the little girl a beautifully wrapped box.

  ‘And because I couldn’t exactly wrap myself up, I wrapped this up instead.’

  Lizzie fell on it with a squeal of delight. ‘It’s for me?’

  ‘Certainly it’s for you.’ His gaze slid back to Bryony, who was standing on the bottom step, unable to move. She wanted to know what was going on.

  Lizzie tore the paper off the present and then gave a gasp of delight, holding up a silk dress in a beautiful shade of pink. ‘Oh, and matching shoes. And a new tiara.’

  Jack’s eyes were on Bryony. ‘Someone once told me that a little girl could never have too many tiaras,’ he said softly, a strange light in his eyes. ‘And that’s the sort of thing you need to know if you’re going to be a decent daddy.’

  Bryony gave a faltering smile and looked at the dress her daughter was holding.

  It looked like…

  ‘It’s a lovely dress, Jack,’ Lizzie said wistfully, stroking it with her hand. ‘Can I wear it now?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘But you can wear it soon. Or at least I hope you can. Do you know what sort of dress this is, Lizzie?’

  Lizzie shook her head but Bryony’s heart was thumping like a drum and she sat down hard on the bottom stair as her knees gave way.

  ‘It’s a bridesmaid’s dress,’ Jack said quietly, his eyes still fixed on Bryony. ‘And I want you to wear it when I marry your mummy.’

  ‘You’re going to marry Mummy?’ Lizzie gave a gasp of delight. ‘You’re going to play Weddings?’

  Jack gently tipped Lizzie onto the floor and rose to his feet. ‘I’m not playing Weddings,’ he said quietly, walking across the room towards Bryony, his eyes locked on hers. ‘I’m doing it for real.’

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box beautifully wrapped in silver paper. It caught the light and glittered like the decorations on the tree, and Lizzie gasped.

  ‘It’s so pretty.’

  Bryony was looking at Jack and he smiled.

  ‘Are you going to stand up?’

  She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. ‘Jack—’

  ‘Bryony Hunter.’ His voice was sexy and seductive and a tiny smile played around his firm mouth. ‘Will you marry me?’

  Her stomach turned over and she stared at him, not daring to believe that this was real. Then she looked at her daughter who was leaping up and down in undisguised delight.

  Bryony took a deep breath and looked at the box. ‘Jack—you don’t want to get married. You were never going to get married,’ she began, and he pressed the box into her hand.

  ‘Sometimes I make mistakes, remember?’ He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

  ‘I know, I know. Mistakes stop you from being perfect.’

  ‘Precisely.’ His voice was a velvet drawl. ‘Open it, Blondie.’

  ‘Yes, open it, Mummy!’ Lizzie danced next to them and Bryony pulled the paper off with shaking fingers and stared down at the blue velvet box.

  ‘It can’t be a tiara,’ Lizzie breathed and Bryony smiled.

  ‘You think not?’ Her eyes slid to Jack’s and then back to the box again and she took a deep breath and flipped it open.

  ‘Oh, Mummy!’ Lizzie gasped in awe as the enormous diamond twinkled, reflecting the lights from the Christmas tree. ‘That’s beautiful.’

  ‘It is beautiful.’ She swallowed hard and looked at Jack. ‘How—? Why—?’

  Jack’s gaze lingered on hers for her moment and then he turned to Lizzie. ‘On second thought, why don’t you go up to your bedroom and try the dress on?’ he suggested. ‘Then we can check if it fits.’

  Without questioning him, Lizzie darted up the stairs and Bryony was left alone with Jack.

  Her heart was racing and she felt strange inside but she still didn’t dare believe that this was real.

  ‘You’ve made her Christmas, Jack.’ She looked after her daughter, her heart in her mouth, not knowing what to make of the situation. ‘But you can’t get married just for a child.’

  ‘I didn’t do it for Lizzie, Bryony,’ he said softly, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. ‘I did it for me. And for you.’

  She tried not to look at his incredibly sexy mouth. ‘You don’t want commitment,’ she croaked. ‘You don’t do for ever.’

  ‘I didn’t think I did, but I was wrong.’

  She shook her head, forcing herself to say what needed to be said, despite the temptation just to take what she’d been given without question. ‘There’s only one reason to get marr
ied, Jack, and it isn’t to please a child.’

  ‘I know there’s only one reason to get married,’ he said hoarsely, stroking her blonde hair back from her face with a gentle hand. ‘In fact, I know that better than anyone because I saw my parents together for all the wrong reasons.’

  She looked at him, her mouth dry. ‘So what’s the reason, Jack?’

  He bent his head and his mouth hovered close to hers. ‘I’m marrying you because I love you,’ he said softly. ‘And why it’s taken me so long to work that out I really don’t know.’

  She stood still, unable to believe that he’d actually said those words. And then a warm glow began inside her. ‘You love me.’

  He gave her that lopsided smile that always made her insides go funny. ‘You know I love you. You were the one who told me that I love you.’

  ‘And I seem to remember that you ran away from me so fast you left skid marks in the snow.’

  He grinned. ‘I know. And I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘I went back to my house.’

  She looked at him in surprise. ‘Your house? But you hardly ever go there.’

  ‘I know that.’ He pulled a face. ‘Which is ridiculous really because it’s a beautiful house with lots of land and a great view.’

  ‘But it’s never been a home for you, has it?’ she said quietly, and he shook his head.

  ‘No, it hasn’t. And you’re one of the few people that understand that.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘I went home and I sat in that house and I thought about all the years that I’d been miserable there. And I suddenly realised that home for me is nothing to do with beautiful houses and land. It’s to do with people. Home for me is where you are, Bryony, and it always has been.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Jack—’

  ‘I was scared of commitment, of having a marriage that was like my parents’, but we are nothing like my parents.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘The other night, when you said you’d loved me for ever, was it true?’

  She nodded. ‘Completely true.’

  He let out a breath. ‘And I’ve loved you for ever, too. But I associated marriage with disaster so I didn’t want to take that risk with our relationship.’

  ‘There’s no risk, Jack.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Lizzie and I will always be here for you.’

  ‘And I for you.’ He released her and took the box out of her hand. ‘This says that you’re mine. For ever. No more dating. No more looking for a man to take your mind off me. From now on I want your mind well and truly on me. All the time.’

  She gave a shaky smile, watching as he slid the beautiful ring onto her finger. ‘It’s huge. I’ve just put on half a stone and I haven’t eaten any turkey yet.’

  His eyes dropped to her mouth. ‘I love you, sweetheart.’

  There was a noise from the stairs. ‘This time Jack is really going to kiss you, Mummy, I can tell by the way he’s looking at you. Sort of funny.’

  Bryony rolled her eyes and pulled a face. ‘Nothing is ever private,’ she muttered, and Jack grinned.

  ‘Oh, believe me, later on we’re going to be very private.’ He pulled her against him and kissed her gently, but it was a fairly chaste kiss, given that Lizzie was watching avidly, and Bryony was touched by that. He always did the right thing around her daughter.

  She reached out a hand to Lizzie.

  ‘So, angel, did Santa do well?’

  Lizzie smiled, her whole face alight with happiness. ‘I knew he’d do it if I gave him enough time. And just to make sure that I get what I want next year, I’ve just written my letter for next Christmas.’

  Bryony looked at her in disbelief. ‘Sweetheart, you haven’t even eaten your turkey yet! You can’t already be thinking about next Christmas.’

  ‘I can.’ Lizzie looked at them stubbornly and waved the letter under their noses. ‘I know exactly what I want. And I know that if I’m really good Santa will give it to me. But he’s going to need a lot of time to get ready for this one because it’s very special.’

  Bryony exchanged looks with Jack who swept Lizzie into his arms and gave her a hug, laughter in his eyes.

  ‘Go on, then. What is it that you want from Santa next year?’

  Lizzie smiled. ‘Well…’ she said, smiling into Jack’s face and wrapping her little arms round his neck. ‘For Christmas next year, I really really want a baby sister. And I know that Santa is going to bring me one.’

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7876-3

  THE DOCTOR’S CHRISTMAS BRIDE

  First North American Publication 2004

  Copyright © 2004 by Sarah Morgan.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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