The GP’s Meant-To-Be Bride

by Jennifer Taylor

  ‘I take it that Heather’s told you she’s called off the wedding?’

  ‘She pushed a note through my door. I found it on the mat this morning when I got up.’

  Gemma followed him into the house, shivering appreciatively as a blast of warm air hit her. Matthew led the way to the kitchen, obviously expecting her to follow him. Picking up the teapot, he offered it to her and she nodded.

  ‘Please.’

  He poured them both a cup of tea and placed them on the table by the window. Gemma frowned when she saw that his hands were shaking. Heather’s decision to cancel her wedding must have been a shock for her father too.

  ‘Did Heather say why she’s decided not to marry Ross?’ Gemma asked as they sat down.

  ‘No. She just said that she’d realised it would be a mistake.’

  Matt’s whole bearing seemed to have altered overnight; he appeared years older that morning. It was upsetting to see him looking this way when Gemma had always thought how full of life he usually was. He ran the busy general practice where she worked as one of the practice nurses with the vigour of a man half his age, but he looked grey and gaunt as he sat there, sipping his tea.

  ‘Is Heather here?’ she asked gently, not wanting to add to his distress by pressing him for answers.

  ‘No. She left last night, caught the last train to London, in fact.’ Pain darkened his eyes. ‘I should have realised she had doubts about getting married and made sure it was what she really wanted instead of adding to the pressure she felt to go along with it.’

  Gemma looked at him in surprise. ‘It was Heather’s decision to marry Ross. Nobody pushed her into it.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Matthew gave her a grim smile then looked round when the doorbell rang. ‘Excuse me. I’d better see who that is.’

  Gemma drank some of her tea after he left the kitchen. It seemed her trip had been a waste of time if Heather wasn’t here. She had no idea what she should do now, or if there was anything she could do. Going to see Ross was out of the question, of course. He would be far too upset to see her.

  The sound of voices made her glance round and she felt her heart leap when she saw the two men coming along the hall. Matthew was tall but the man with him topped him by a couple of inches. In the wintry light filtering through the kitchen window, his skin gleamed like burnished gold, the perfect foil for his startling bluer-than-blue eyes.

  Gemma felt a shudder run down her spine, then another until it felt as though her whole body was quaking. She had tried so hard to ignore these feelings, tried and, to some extent, succeeded too. Every time she’d found herself reacting to the sight of him, she’d reminded herself of all the reasons why it was wrong: he was her best friend’s fiancé; he wasn’t interested in her; he definitely wouldn’t find her attractive—especially if he saw her naked.

  All those points still held good. Maybe the first one was in doubt but weddings had been called off and rescheduled before, and there was no saying this one wouldn’t be either. However, the second two points were as valid now as they had always been. Ross wasn’t interested in her and he most definitely wouldn’t find her attractive in bed. No man in his right mind would.

  Gemma knew there was no hope wishing she could have a chance to win Ross’s love, but that didn’t stop the tingles, the shivers, the mini-earthquakes that were assailing her as he came into the room. Her head understood the truth, but her heart was deaf, dumb and blind to it, steadfastly believing that if she loved Ross enough from afar, one day he might learn to love her in return.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ROSS

  ground to a halt when he spotted Gemma sitting at the table. He hadn’t realised there was anyone else in the house and for a moment he was tempted to beat a hasty retreat. However, he would have to face people at some point and there was no time like the present. ‘Gemma.’

  He nodded politely to her, seeing the wash of colour that ran up her face. With that silver-blonde hair and flawless porcelain skin, she must find it difficult to hide her feelings, he thought, then wondered why the idea had occurred to him now of all times. He had worked with Gemma for almost three years, ever since she had moved to Dalverston to take up the post of senior practice nurse at the surgery. She and Heather had soon struck up a friendship, so there had been many occasions when they had met outside work, too. However, he had never even noticed her hair or her skin before. How strange.

  He turned away, uncomfortable with the way he was behaving. Maybe it had been a shock to be dumped if not literally at the altar but pretty close to it, but did that really explain why his mind seemed to be whizzing off at tangents all of a sudden?

  ‘Ross, I don’t know what to say apart from the fact that I’m really and truly sorry.’

  Ross cleared his mind of all extraneous thoughts when he heard the pain in Matthew’s voice. ‘If Heather had any doubts then she was right to call off the wedding,’ he said quietly, not wanting to add to the older man’s distress. ‘It would have been much worse if she’d gone ahead and regretted it later.’

  ‘That’s what Heather said.’ Matt sank down onto a chair as though he was too weary to remain standing. He waved Ross to a seat. ‘Sit down. Would you like some tea? There’s some made…’

  He went to get up again but Gemma quickly intervened. ‘I’ll get it.’

  She stood up, easing around Ross with a murmured ‘Excuse me’. Ross felt a ripple of awareness run through him as she brushed against him in passing, and frowned. How many times had that happened over the last three years? There must have been dozens of occasions when he and Gemma had touched and he’d barely registered it, yet all of a sudden his brain was flashing signals along his nerves, alerting all the muscles and sinews to the fact that there was a young and attractive female in close proximity. And when he thought all his muscles, he meant all too.

  He hurriedly sat down, stunned by what was happening to him. All right, so he was a normal healthy male with a normal healthy male’s interest in the opposite sex. However, was it really normal to be experiencing these feelings on the morning of what should have been his last day of bachelorhood?

  Confusion clouded his mind so that when Gemma put a cup of tea in front of him he couldn’t even thank her. He took a gulp of the tea in the hope that it would ease the kinks out of his system. Maybe he needed to face up to his feelings instead of bottling them up? After all, he’d been looking forward to building a life with Heather, and to have his plans scuppered was bound to have hit him hard. Although he did feel a certain sense of relief, underneath that surely he was both upset and hurt?

  Ross felt a little twinge deep inside him, not quite pain but something similar, and breathed a little easier. Of course he was upset and, that being the case, it was understandable if he was behaving oddly. He dredged up a smile, forcing his body to downgrade the alert from red to amber.

  ‘I take it that Heather isn’t here?’ he said, addressing himself to Matthew. He was aware in one part of his mind that Gemma had gone to refill Matt’s cup but he didn’t dwell on it. It had no relevance whatsoever to what had happened.

  ‘No. She left last night, caught the last train to London.’ Matt looked at him in despair. ‘I don’t know what she’s going to do there. I mean, she doesn’t know anyone and she has nowhere to live. London’s a big place. Heaven only knows what could happen to a woman on her own…’

  His voice broke and he stared down at the table, overcome by fear for his daughter. Ross wished he could think of something to say, but anything he came up with sounded trite. It was left to Gemma to intervene again. Walking around the table, she laid a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder.

  ‘Heather will be fine. You mustn’t worry about her. She’s bright, resourceful and more than capable of looking after herself.’

  She smiled at the older man, a smile of such compassion that Ross felt his heart ache with longing. All of a sudden he longed for some of that compassion for himself. He wanted Gemma to smile at him and make him feel
that everything would be fine and that someone cared. That she cared. The thought startled him so much that he flinched, but thankfully the other two didn’t notice.

  ‘You really think so?’ Matt asked desperately and Gemma nodded, her silky pale hair falling over her cheek for a moment before she tucked it behind her ear.

  ‘Yes, I do. You did a really great job of raising her, Matt, and she isn’t going to go off the rails just because she’s moved to the city.’

  Another smile, another gentle squeeze of the shoulder before she moved away; however, Ross’s eyes remained locked on her. He didn’t want to watch her but he couldn’t stop himself. She picked up the cup and brought it back to the table, and once again her hair fell softly over her face as she bent and placed it in front of Matt. Ross felt his breath catch in anticipation as he waited for her to do it again, tuck that silky, satiny lock of hair behind her ear…

  His whole body went into spasm as he watched her anchor it back into place. Now he could see the delicate curl of her ear, see how small and pale it looked, almost translucent, like a shell that had been washed clean by the sea. Ears had been just ears to him before. He understood their structure and could have explained in simple terms why they were necessary. However, Gemma’s ear—so delicate, so beautiful—was more like a work of art than an anatomical fact. He could have sat there and studied it all day!

  Gemma sat down at the table, carefully keeping her eyes on her cup. Ross was staring at her and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. She took a sip of her tea then almost choked as a thought occurred to her: did Ross believe that she’d known Heather had been planning to call off the wedding?

  ‘I had no idea what Heather was going to do.’ She turned to him in dismay. The worst thing was that she actually felt guilty even though she’d had no idea what her friend had been planning. As far as she’d been aware, Heather had been madly in love with Ross, and he with her.

  The thought stung and she rushed on when he failed to answer. ‘It’s true, Ross. I swear, I didn’t know that Heather was going to call off the wedding.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He made a visible effort to collect himself. Picking up his cup, he swallowed some of the tepid tea and grimaced. If there was one thing he loathed it was lukewarm tea.

  ‘Of course it matters,’ Gemma snapped, suddenly angry with him. The least he could do was to be honest. Surely she warranted that much respect? She almost snatched the cup out of his hand and stood up. ‘Heather didn’t tell me, so if you’ve got it into your head that I knew something was wrong but was holding out on you, you can forget it.’

  ‘As I said, it doesn’t matter.’

  There was an answering bite in his voice which was so out of character that Gemma did a double take. He gave her a tight smile, his blue eyes as bright and as cold as sapphires as he stared at her, and she was more convinced than ever that he did believe she’d had a hand in her friend’s decision. ‘The deed’s done, Gemma, so who knew what and when isn’t relevant. What’s important now is that we sort things out with the minimum of distress for everyone concerned.’

  He held her gaze, daring her to proclaim her innocence a third time, but she wasn’t that foolish. Heads connecting with brick walls was a concept she had no intention of investigating at first hand. She smiled sweetly at him, her grey eyes as chilly as she could make them.

  ‘Of course. And it goes without saying that I’ll help any way I can.’

  ‘Thanks, but it’s all covered.’

  He brushed aside her offer of help and Gemma’s mouth compressed. Ross may be every woman’s dream but he could also be her worst nightmare when he got into one of his stubborn moods. He was so focussed that once he got an idea into his head, it was impossible to shift it.

  The thought was less than reassuring. Spinning round, she marched to the counter and switched on the kettle to make a fresh pot of tea. She needed to keep busy and could do with another cup to settle her nerves. As for Ross, well, she really didn’t care if he wanted tea or anything else. No wonder Heather had dumped him. He was so bloody arrogant, so opinionated, so…so…

  Gorgeous, an inner voice suggested before she squashed it. As her grandmother had been fond of saying, handsome is as handsome does. She must remember that the next time she got the collywobbles around Dr Always-Right Mackenzie!

  Gemma was still thinking evil thoughts and enjoying them too when the phone rang. Matthew sighed as he got up. ‘I expect this will be the first of many once the news gets out.’

  There seemed little anyone could say to that so Gemma stayed silent, pouring the boiling water into the pot and popping on the lid. Ross seemed equally disinclined to talk, so she sat down and stared into space while the tea brewed, wondering if she should leave as soon as Matt came back. Ross had made it clear that her help wasn’t needed…

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I seem to be all over the place this morning.’

  Her gaze flew to him when he spoke and her heart, not to mention her anger, melted when she saw the bewilderment in his eyes. Ross was always so centred that it was a shock to see him looking this lost. Impulsively, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

  ‘And I’m sorry, too, for being so snappy. I had no right. After all, it’s you who’s suffering. This must be terrible for you, Ross.’

  All of a sudden her eyes filled with tears and she heard him sigh. ‘Don’t upset yourself on my account, Gemma. I’m fine—really, I am.’

  ‘How can you be?’ She dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘You must be in a state of shock—I am. I mean, I love Heather to bits. She’s the best friend anyone could have, but I can’t understand why she’s done this—and to you of all people.’

  She hurried on when she saw his brows rise as he caught the vehemence in her tone. The last thing Ross needed at the moment was her admitting how she felt about him…Correction: the last thing Ross needed was her admitting how she felt about him, ever.

  ‘You two are perfect for each other. You have so much in common between your work and the things you enjoy doing. If I’d had to pick the ideal partner for either of you then I would have chosen Heather for you and you for Heather.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Heather was perfect. She ticked all the right boxes.’ He broke off, looking a little embarrassed, and Gemma hastened to assure him there was no need.

  ‘And that’s why you fell head over heels in love with her,’ she said encouragingly.

  ‘Ye-e-s-s.’

  There was something in his voice that made her stare at him. Had that been a hint of doubt she’d heard? Was Ross not sure—not one hundred and ten per cent sure—that he loved Heather with his whole heart? The thought was intriguing but before she could pursue it, Matt returned, looking more grim-faced than ever.

  ‘That was Ambulance Control on the phone. There’s been an incident on the canal, along that stretch which is being refurbished about ten miles south of here. One of the cranes has collapsed and there’s at least a dozen people injured, apparently.’

  ‘Have they despatched the rapid-response team?’ Ross demanded, standing up.

  ‘Yes, but there’s a snag. It appears there’s some sort of a problem with the fuel they use for the ambulances and other emergency vehicles. The whole fleet is off the road, apart from one paramedic car.’ Matt grimaced. ‘Ambulance Control has called for assistance from the neighbouring authorities but it’s going to be a while before they can get any ambulances here.’

  ‘And in the meantime they want us to do whatever we can,’ Ross guessed.

  ‘Exactly. I know it’s the worst possible day for something like this to happen, but we don’t have a choice, do we?’

  ‘No.’ Ross headed for the door. ‘I’ll get straight over there and see what I can do. Ben’s at my house, luckily enough, so I’ll pick him up en route.’

  ‘That would be a real help. I’ll phone Rachel and the others and follow you down.’ Matt turned to Gemma. �
�We’re going to need all the help we can get from the sound of it, Gemma, so can we count you in?’

  ‘Of course.’ Gemma jumped to her feet and hurried to the door.

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Ross suggested as they all trooped into the hall. He paused, forcing Gemma to stop to avoid bumping into him. ‘That stretch of the canal is quite difficult to reach. The fewer vehicles that are there, blocking the way, the better.’

  ‘That’s a point,’ Matt concurred. ‘Heaven knows what sort of machinery they’ll need to shift that crane but there’s no point cluttering up the area. I’ll pick up Rachel and the others and that will help to keep the number of vehicles to a minimum.’

  It was all sorted out without Gemma saying a word, not that she could have objected to going with Ross—that would have been too difficult to explain. She could hardly have admitted that the thought of being in the car with him was giving her hot and cold chills.

  She slid into the rear seat, murmuring something about leaving the front passenger seat free for Ben. Ross obviously saw nothing strange in that, but he had no reason to be suspicious. He didn’t know that the thought of sitting next to him would have been torture for her. To feel his shoulder brush against hers, to smell the scent of his skin, to absorb the powerful force of his masculinity would have been both heaven and hell, and she couldn’t handle it. Not today. Not this day when he should have been on his way to church to marry her best friend.

  She needed time to gather her thoughts and return them to the box mentally marked ‘Forbidden’ where they had resided for the last three years. Only then would she be able to cope, when Ross was back in his rightful place as her best friend’s fiancé…Only he was no longer that, was he? He was neither engaged to Heather nor married to her. To all intents and purposes, he was a free agent now. Available. Obtainable. Although not for someone like her. Not for a woman whose body had made men recoil in revulsion.