The GP’s Meant-To-Be Bride

by Jennifer Taylor

  The clinic ended shortly before three-thirty. With evening surgery due to start at four there wasn’t long to get everything cleared away. Gemma was surprised when Ross started stacking chairs against the walls as it was a job she usually performed herself.

  ‘I can manage if you need to get ready for your patients,’ she told him, attempting to place a couple of chairs onto the nearest stack.

  ‘There’s nothing to do.’ Ross took them from her, effortlessly lifting them onto the pile. ‘I seem to have an unusually light load tonight. I suppose I have my mother to thank for that.’

  ‘Rachel did ask Carol if she could re-jig some of your evening appointments,’ Gemma admitted. She sighed when she saw him frown. ‘She’s only trying to help, Ross.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t need help. I’m not ill. I’ve been jilted. I’ll survive. To be honest, I’d welcome the opportunity to keep myself busy at the moment.’

  ‘But why push yourself when there’s no need?’ she protested. ‘What are you trying to prove? That you don’t care about what’s happened?’ She shook her head so that her hair drifted across her face and she pushed it back with an impatient hand. ‘Nobody’s going to believe that.’

  ‘Why not? Do I look as though I’m about to fall apart?’ he demanded, but Gemma refused to back down. No matter how much he protested, she knew he was hurting.

  ‘No, you don’t. But this has still been a shock for you and no matter how hard you try to make out that you don’t give a damn, nobody is going to believe it.’

  ‘Including you?’

  ‘Including me.’ Her tone softened when she saw the uncertainty in his eyes. It was rare for Ross to project anything other than supreme confidence, and it only seemed to prove she was right. He was hurting, and hurting a lot from the look of him.

  ‘Give yourself a break, Ross,’ she continued, battening down the pain that thought aroused. ‘Admit that this has knocked you for six and accept that people want to help you.’

  ‘Is that what you want to do, Gemma—help me?’

  His voice was very deep all of a sudden. It stroked along her raw nerves like a velvet-covered hand and she shivered. Her eyes rose to his as she wondered how she was going to keep her feelings hidden if he spoke to her that way. Ross was unfailingly courteous whenever he addressed her in the surgery, but he sounded so different now, and she was afraid that she might not be able to keep control of her emotions. It was only the thought of making a fool of herself that steadied her, in fact.

  ‘Yes, of course I do. I know I’m Heather’s friend, but I hope that I’m your friend, too.’

  ‘And friends look out for one another.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Gemma wasn’t sure what else she could say. She did want to be his friend, wanted it so much that the need was like a physical ache inside her. If they could never be anything else, then friends would have to suffice.

  ‘Thank you.’ He touched her cheek, just lightly with the very tips of his fingers, but she had to stifle her gasp. It was the first time he had consciously touched her and there was no point pretending it hadn’t affected her.

  She turned away, terrified that he would see how much it meant to her. ‘You’re welcome. Right, seeing as you’re making a first-rate job of stacking those chairs, how about I make us both a cup of tea before the hordes arrive?’

  ‘Only if there’s some chocolate biscuits to go with it.’

  Ross swung another couple of chairs onto the stack. Gemma gulped when she saw the muscles in his shoulders ripple beneath his shirt. It was rare that he shed his jacket at work so it wasn’t as though she’d had much opportunity to get used to the sight, she excused herself as nerve endings began to hum in appreciation. She took a quick breath, forcing herself to focus on the conversation.

  ‘D’you think it’s wise to indulge in chocolate biscuits hard on the heels of the weight-loss clinic?’

  ‘Are you saying I need to watch my weight?’ he demanded, placing his hands on his narrow hips and pretending to glare at her.

  ‘I…um…’ Gemma wasn’t sure what flustered her most, the sight of Ross standing there, looking so gloriously, deliciously male, or the fact that he was teasing her. Whichever it was, she found it impossible to string two words together and had to settle for shaking her head.

  ‘Good. I’d hate it if we fell out so soon after we’d made friends.’ He gave her a quick smile then turned back to his self-appointed task, affording her much-needed breathing space. ‘As for the chocolate biscuits, well, if I can’t indulge myself at the moment, when can I? I think I deserve a bit of TLC right now, don’t you?’

  ‘I do.’ This time Gemma managed to force out the words. She even managed to smile when he glanced round. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on.’

  She quickly made her escape, hurrying along the corridor to the kitchen. Rachel and Matthew hadn’t arrived yet for evening surgery, but Fraser Kennedy, their new locum, was in his room. She nodded to him as she passed but didn’t stop. Although she liked Fraser, she had a more pressing task to attend to. Making Ross a cup of tea might not be the most important thing she’d ever had to do, but it marked a turning point.

  He had accepted her as his friend, someone he could trust, and that meant a lot to her, although she wasn’t going to be silly enough to read too much into it. He still loved Heather and she knew that, so she wasn’t going to let herself dream about what might have happened if her body hadn’t been so damaged. She would settle for what she had—tea and biscuits in the staffroom with the man she loved.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE

  kettle had boiled by the time Ross arrived at the staffroom. He paused in the doorway and watched as Gemma poured the water into the pot. She had her back to him so he was able to study her at his leisure for once. A wave of tenderness washed over him when he saw how focussed she was on the task. Whatever Gemma did, she gave it one hundred per cent concentration. Although Pam Whiteside, the other practice nurse, was highly efficient, Gemma had the edge. She possessed the rare ability to be both practical and sympathetic. She was also remarkably quick to recognise when a patient wasn’t being completely truthful, too. There’d been several occasions, now that he thought about it, when it had been Gemma’s gentle probing that had unearthed some snippet of information that had aided his diagnosis. That she carried out her duties with calm professionalism was something else he appreciated. In fact, during the three years they had worked together, he had never once seen her looking flustered until that morning.

  A frown furrowed his brow as he studied her bent head. What had been wrong with her earlier? He’d had the distinct impression that she had been very on edge and he had no idea why. Was it something he’d said, or something he’d done, perhaps? He sighed because it was upsetting to think that he may have made Gemma feel uncomfortable in any way.

  Thankfully, she glanced round just then and spotted him so he was able to push the thought aside. She nodded to the table which held a plate piled high with chocolate digestive biscuits. ‘The biccies are all there so sit yourself down while I pour the tea.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Ross pulled out a chair, opting for the seat nearest to the plate. Gemma chuckled as she brought over their mugs and set them down.

  ‘Don’t worry. There’s plenty more in the cupboard if you finish that little lot. Carol must have stocked up.’

  ‘That’s good to know.’

  Ross reached for a biscuit at the same moment as she went to take one and flinched when their hands touched. He forced himself to smile, not wanting her to guess that the contact was doing serious damage to his self-control. He had managed to reason away the thought he’d had about Gemma during the clinic session because it was inappropriate to be lusting after her during working hours, and because it was out of the question for him to get involved with anyone at the moment. However, one touch of her hand and his body was revving itself up again. Surely he wasn’t so desperate for sex that every woman he met was fair ga
me?

  ‘After you,’ he said gallantly while he digested that idea. He and Heather had slept together after they had become engaged, but their sex life hadn’t been either wildly passionate or very frequent. They’d both led busy lives and had agreed that spending the night together should be an occasional rather than a usual occurrence.

  Was that normal? he wondered. Did engaged couples ration their love-making to fit in with other commitments? He had no idea, neither did he feel it was something he could ask anyone else about, certainly not Gemma. That would be a step beyond the bounds of friendship.

  ‘Hurry up. If you’re not careful, I’ll have finished the whole lot while you’re daydreaming.’

  Ross came back to earth with a thump. ‘Not a chance.’ He helped himself to three biscuits and stacked them up beside his cup.

  Gemma chuckled as she bit into her biscuit. ‘Not taking any chances, I see.’

  ‘Not when there’s an admitted biscuit monster sitting opposite me,’ he retorted, biting his biscuit in half.

  ‘Cheek! After I’ve gone to the trouble of making the tea and finding the biscuits, you now think you can insult me.’ She finished her biscuit and reached for another, laughing as he swatted her hand away from the plate. ‘I told you there were more in the cupboard.’

  ‘That might very well be true. But there again it might be a ploy. You could be spinning me a line so I don’t panic.’

  ‘You panic?’ she scoffed. ‘You have to have nerves to panic and you don’t possess any, Ross Mackenzie.’

  ‘I do. I just prefer to keep my feelings under wraps so that’s why it appears that I have a heart of steel,’ he said, making a joke out of the admission because he still felt wary about opening up. He’d been badly hurt by his father’s rejection but deep down he knew that it was time he got over it. If he never took the risk of getting hurt then he would never know how it felt to feel great happiness either. He wanted that dream life so much—a loving wife, kids who adored him, a future filled with love and laughter. It was that thought which spurred him on.

  ‘I’ve realised in the last couple of days that I need to loosen up and be a bit more forthcoming about how I feel.’

  ‘Because of Heather?’

  He heard the concern in Gemma’s voice and his heart filled with warmth when he realised it was for him. ‘Yes. I don’t think I was very fair to her. I held too much of myself back and I’m sure that’s why she decided she couldn’t marry me.’

  ‘But if you’re a bit more open about your feelings, Heather might change her mind,’ Gemma suggested wistfully, so wistfully that he didn’t like to correct her.

  It obviously meant a lot to Gemma that he and Heather should try again to make their relationship work, although he knew that nothing he did would resurrect it. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t want to try. Heather may have seemed like his ideal life partner at one time, but his perceptions had changed. He was no longer sure that he and Heather would have been happy together.

  It was scary to know that he’d almost made such a huge mistake and that was another incentive not to say too much. Although he was determined to make some changes to his attitude to life, he needed to take baby steps at first, not giant strides. He shrugged, leaving Gemma to draw her own conclusions, which she did.

  ‘I’m glad, Ross. If there’s anything I can do to help then just tell me, won’t you?’

  He almost caved in and told her the truth at that point. It was all he could do not to confess that his plan wasn’t to win Heather back but to lay the groundwork for any future relationship, only it was too difficult to explain it. Gemma might think he was totally uncaring if he admitted that he’d made a mistake about Heather and that was the last thing he wanted. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t bear to imagine that Gemma thought badly of him.

  ‘Thanks. I appreciate the offer.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t be the only one,’ she assured him. ‘Everyone wants to help any way they can.’

  Ross’s heart sank at that. Although he knew that everyone meant well, he really didn’t want anyone interfering. ‘I’d rather they didn’t. I would much prefer to sort things out myself, and in my own way.’

  Gemma laughed at his rueful expression. ‘It sounds as though you’re in danger of overdosing on sympathy.’

  ‘You said it. Between the patients and Mum, it feels as though I’m drowning in it. I’m dreading the weekend. Mum will expect me to go round to hers while she cheers me up.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I could do without being mollycoddled!’

  ‘You can always come round to mine if you need an excuse to escape,’ Gemma suggested. She gave a little shrug when she saw the surprise on his face, wishing she’d thought about what she was doing before she’d said anything. However, now that she’d issued the invitation she could hardly take it back. ‘I promise I won’t mollycoddle you. I’ll probably tell you to buck up your ideas if you’re looking miserable!’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, chuckling. ‘It will do me a lot more good than tiptoeing around me as everyone seems to be doing.’

  ‘Then come round about ten on Saturday morning. I’ve not got anything planned apart from catching up with the usual housework. You’ll be able to hide away for a couple of hours,’ she added, wanting to be sure he understood why she’d made the offer. The fact that she would enjoy spending the time with him was just a bonus.

  She hurried on, refusing to dwell on that thought. ‘We can have a cup of coffee and set the world to rights. That should take your mind off everything else.’

  ‘It will. Thanks, Gemma. It’s just what I need—a bit of normality in my life.’

  ‘Good.’

  Gemma forbore to mention that coming to her house was hardly normal for him. Although Heather had visited her home many times, Ross hadn’t been there before. She quickly gathered up their cups before she got cold feet. It was just something friends did, got together for coffee and a chat, no more than that.

  ‘I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes, will I?’

  ‘Sorry?’ She glanced round uncertainly, and he shrugged.

  ‘Your boyfriend won’t object if I turn up on the doorstep?’

  ‘That’s highly unlikely,’ she said crisply. ‘First of all I don’t have a boyfriend, and secondly I wouldn’t go out with someone who was so possessive that he didn’t want me to have male friends.’

  ‘Oh, right. I see.’ He paused and she looked at him questioningly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I was just wondering about Ben. You two seemed to be getting on really well the other day.’

  ‘We were. Ben’s great fun,’ Gemma said, unsure where the conversation was leading.

  ‘And that’s it? You two aren’t involved in any way?’

  ‘Me and Ben? Of course not! As I said, he’s great fun, but that’s it.’

  ‘Right. Fine.’

  Ross helped himself to the last biscuit and left. Gemma finished tidying up and went to her room. She’d only just sat down when Bev Humphreys, one of their receptionists, buzzed to tell her that her first appointment was waiting in Reception.

  Gemma asked Bev to send her patient in and settled down to work. And if her mind strayed several times throughout the evening to Ross, it was understandable. If there was anything she could do to help bring him and Heather back together, she would do it. She didn’t believe that Heather no longer loved him. No woman who had fallen in love with Ross would fall out of love with him.

  She sighed. She certainly wouldn’t.

  By the time Saturday rolled around, the gossip was starting to die down, much to Ross’s relief. Although the week had been a strain, he was hopeful that his life would get back to normal soon. He still intended to make some changes to the way he behaved, but that could only be a good thing. In fact, if he was honest, he felt as though a load had been lifted off his shoulders. Heather had done the right thing by calling off their wedding.

&n
bsp; It was ten a.m. on the dot when he drew up outside the tiny terraced cottage where Gemma lived. He had never been there before and he took a good long look at the place as he got out of the car. One small window downstairs, one directly above, and a front door painted poppy red. The handkerchief-sized front garden wasn’t big enough for a lawn but there were lots of pots dotted about, the first glossy shoots of spring bulbs poking through the soil to welcome visitors. Although Ross’s house was huge by comparison, he realised that it didn’t look anywhere near as welcoming as this tiny cottage did. He rapped on the door, storing up that fact for future reference. It wasn’t just internal changes he needed to make to his life, but external ones too.

  Gemma opened the door, smiling warmly as she invited him in. ‘Come and sit by the fire. It’s freezing outside today.’

  She led him through the minuscule vestibule straight into her sitting room where a fire was blazing in the grate. Not for Gemma the minimal look in décor that he favoured, Ross discovered, nor the cool neutral colours so beloved of interior designers. The room was a riot of red and gold, with touches of bronze to further liven it up. The old sofa and chair were covered in red and bronze throws, the walls painted a rich, deep gold. Every surface was covered with knick-knacks—photos in mismatched frames, china ornaments that had no intrinsic value, unlike his own expensive sculptures. It was so far removed from his own home that he was stunned into silence.

  ‘Not your taste, is it?’ Gemma said cheerfully, plumping up a scarlet velvet cushion. She tossed it back onto the sofa and laughed. ‘Your face is a picture, Ross!’

  ‘No wonder. This is all so…so…’ He tailed off, unable to come up with a suitable adjective.

  ‘Messy? Tatty?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head, letting his mind adjust to the opulence of the colours before he tried again. ‘Sumptuous. It’s so warm and vibrant, so wonderfully, fabulously inviting.’ He turned to Gemma and was touched to see real pleasure on her face. Obviously, his reaction had delighted her and he realised with a jolt how much he enjoyed delighting her too.