The Secret in His Heart

by Caroline Anderson

  Not even remotely!

  So why did she feel so nervous?

  * * *

  She looked gorgeous.

  She wasn’t dressed up, but she’d put on a little bit of makeup and a fine, soft jersey top that draped enticingly over her subtle curves.

  She wasn’t over-endowed, but she was in proportion, and when she leant forward to pick up her drink the low neckline fell away slightly, just enough to give him a tantalising glimpse of the firm swell of her breasts cradled in lace.

  Fine, delicate lace, the colour of ripe raspberries.

  He hauled his eyes away from her underwear and sat back, propping an ankle on the other knee to give his unruly body a little privacy. God, what was wrong with him?

  ‘So, what are you going to eat?’ he asked, studying the menu even though he knew it by heart.

  ‘I don’t know. What’s good?’

  ‘All of it. I eat here fairly often, and there’s always something new on. The specials are worth a punt, but if you don’t fancy anything on the board there’s a good menu.’

  She swivelled round to look at the board, arching backwards so she could get a better view, and the top pulled tight over those lace-clad breasts.

  Raspberry lace, the fruit inside them ripe and soft and full, he thought, and almost groaned out loud.

  ‘Do they do good puds?’

  An image of her eating the cookies with such relish popped into his head, and gave a slightly strangled chuckle. ‘Yes,’ he said, feeling doomed. ‘They do brilliant puds. Save room.’

  ‘Just what I was thinking.’

  ‘Yeah. It wasn’t hard to read your mind. I can hear it from here.’

  She turned back, the top sliding back into place and settling down, and he breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

  Regret?

  Hell, Slater, pull yourself together!

  ‘I think I’ll have the shell-on prawns.’

  He might have known. Now he’d have to spend the whole meal watching her sucking her fingers while the juice ran down her chin. He was beginning to think the steak at home might have been easier...

  * * *

  ‘That was amazing. Thank you. I wish you’d let me pay.’

  ‘Why? I invited you to stay.’

  ‘And you bought steak,’ she pointed out, still feeling guilty, ‘and my dog ate it.’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘And I should have put it in the fridge.’

  ‘OK, I give up, have it your way, I’ll pay next time,’ she said with a laugh, and they headed up the gravel track away from the pub, cut across to the sea wall and went back along the top. She paused for a moment, looking out over the estuary, absorbing the scene. It felt oddly romantic, standing there with him as the evening sun slanted across the marshes behind them and turned everything to gold. Absurdly romantic. Crazy. This was James—

  ‘Slack water. The tide’s just on the turn. Look—the boats are swinging at anchor.’

  He pointed back upriver, and she nodded, watching the fishing boats and little cabin cruisers trying to make up their minds which way to point. ‘It’s so peaceful. Joe said it was lovely here. No wonder you bought the cottage.’

  ‘It was just lucky it came up when I was looking. Properties down here are pretty rarely on the market, and they have a ridiculous premium, but I fell in love with it.’

  ‘I’m sure. I can see why. Was the cabin there?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I wouldn’t have added it, I simply don’t need it. Molly used to use it for paying guests. That was how she met David, apparently, and then after they were married she used it as her studio. I just sling the garden furniture in it for the winter, which seems a wicked waste. I put a bed in there in case I ever needed to use it, and there’s even a small shower room, but I’m hardly short of guest rooms,’ he said drily, ‘and anyway, I don’t seem to have time for entertaining these days. Life is more than a tad hectic at work.’

  ‘So what’s this staffing problem?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, one of the ED consultants had a brain tumour last autumn and he’s been off for months. He’s only recently come back part time, and he’s decided he wants to keep it like that, which would be bad enough without him going off on paternity leave any minute now, but that’s just the usual ongoing nightmare. Finding someone to cover the other half of his rota permanently is much more of a problem. Decent well-qualified trauma specialists are hard to find; they aren’t usually kicking about without a job, and even if they are, they don’t want to work part time, and we’re on a bit of limb here out in the back end of Suffolk.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, surprised. ‘But it’s gorgeous here, and anyway, you wanted to do it so why not other people?’

  ‘It was a golden opportunity for me. I’d had a consultancy, it was a chance at a clinical lead job in a small department, a brilliant rung on the ladder—it was perfect for me, so perfect I might just stay here forever.’

  And she guessed he didn’t care where he lived because he had no ties. Fewer, even, than her, because she at least had a dog now. James had nothing.

  They got back to the cottage and she took Saffy out for a little walk along the sea wall to stretch her legs, then settled down with the dog on the veranda, soaking up the last rays of the evening sun while James made the coffee.

  He came out, slid the tray onto the table as he sat down and eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You OK?’

  ‘Mmm. Just basking in the sun. It’s lovely here. I could stay forever just chilling out.’

  ‘Well, if you haven’t got any ties, why don’t you stay on for a bit, have a break? God knows I’ve got the space.’

  ‘A break from what? I’m not doing anything. Anyway, I can’t. I’ve got to go back to my friend’s house and pack it up because she’s home in a couple of weeks and I need to find myself a job and another house to live in. It’s time to get back to reality and frankly I’m running out of money.’

  He eyed her thoughtfully. He’d already told her that people of her calibre were hard to find, especially ones who would work part time. Would she consider it? Locum for him part time, and chill out the rest?

  ‘Are you sure you’re ready to work?’

  ‘Yes. Absolutely.’

  I am, she realised suddenly, and she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her. I’m ready now, more than ready. Ready to move on, to start my life again in every way.

  ‘In which case, do you want the locum job?’

  She sat bolt upright and turned to stare at him. ‘What?’

  ‘The locum job—the other half of Andy’s job. Just for a while, to ease yourself back in. You could stay here, in the cabin if you wanted, if I give it a bit of a scrub. It would be perfect for you and Saffy, and when you felt ready or we got someone else, you could move on. It would give you time to work out what you’re going to do, to look for a job properly without any haste, no strings, no rent, no notice period. Well, a week or two might be nice, but not if it compromised an opportunity, and you could have the cabin for as long as you want.’

  She searched his face for clues, but there were none. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked, perplexed.

  He laughed. ‘Why? Why? Haven’t you been listening? I can’t get a locum for love or money. Andy’s about to go off on paternity leave, and I’m already pretty much covering half his workload already. I can’t do the other half. I need you, Connie, I genuinely need you. This isn’t charity, we’re desperate, and if you’re really ready to start again, you’d be saving my life.’

  She thought about it, considering it carefully. It would be so easy—too easy?

  ‘Decent pay?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely. It’s a consultant’s post. This is a straightforward offer, Connie, I’m not just being nice to you. There is just one condition, though.’

&
nbsp; She searched his eyes, and they were serious, not a hint of a smile.

  ‘Which is?’

  He looked away. ‘I can’t do the baby thing,’ he said, his voice oddly expressionless. ‘I would help you if I could, but I can’t, so please don’t ask me again.’

  She nodded slowly. No. She’d realised that. Just not why.

  ‘Can you tell me why?’ she asked softly. ‘Just so I can understand? Because plenty of women have babies on their own and manage fine, so that just doesn’t make sense to me that that’s the reason.’

  ‘It does to me,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Why? I would have been bringing up the baby mostly anyway, even if Joe was still alive. Is it because you don’t trust me?’

  ‘Oh, Connie, of course I trust you, but you couldn’t just hand your baby over to me and let me get on with it, could you? So how can you expect me to do it for you?’

  ‘Because you don’t want a baby,’ she said, as if it was obvious. ‘You’ve said that. You said you don’t want a child, that it’s never going to be on your agenda. You don’t want to be involved, but that’s fine, because it would be my baby! All you’d have to do is—well, you know what you’d have to do,’ she said, blushing furiously and looking away. ‘I’d be the one to carry it, to give birth to it, to bring it up—’

  ‘No. It would be our baby, my son or daughter,’ he told her, the words twisting his insides. ‘I would insist on being involved right from the beginning, whether I wanted to or not, and I can’t do that. Please, Connie, try and understand. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just don’t want the emotional involvement and the logistics of it are a nightmare. We’d have to live near each other, which probably means I couldn’t stay here, and I like it here. I’m settled. It’s taken me a long time to reach this point, and I don’t want that to change. I just want peace.’

  She nodded slowly, her eyes filling. ‘No—no, I can see that. I’m sorry. It’s a lot to ask, to be that involved with me, I see that.’

  He sighed. ‘It isn’t that. And anyway, there’s still the possibility that another man will come along and snap you up. Look at you, Connie—you’re gorgeous. You’ll find someone, someday, and I don’t know how I’d feel about another man being involved with bringing up my child if you got married again.’

  ‘We’ve had this conversation. I won’t get married again.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  She gave him a keen look that seemed to slash right to the heart of him. ‘You seem to.’

  He looked away. ‘That’s different.’

  ‘Is it? You don’t seem to have moved on in the nine years I’ve known you, James. You’re still single, still shut down, still alone, and it’s not because you’re hideous or a lousy catch. You’re not. Women must be throwing themselves at you. Don’t tell me you don’t notice. Or is there someone? A woman in your life? I didn’t even think of that before, but is that why? Because there’s some woman lurking in the wings who might not like it?’

  ‘There’s no woman in my life, Connie,’ he said quietly, feeling curiously sad about it all of a sudden. ‘I don’t do relationships. They get demanding. People have expectations, they want more than I’m prepared to give, and I can’t and won’t meet them. So, no, there’s nobody who’s got any right to have an opinion. It’s entirely my decision and that’s the way it’s staying. I’m not interested in dating.’

  ‘Why?’

  Because they’re not you.

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘This is irrelevant. The point is, there’s more to bringing up children than I’ve got time to commit to, and I don’t want to go there. I don’t know if we’ll feel the same way about things, and we have to be able to compromise when we disagree, trust each other’s judgement. We have to like each other, even when the chips are down and the gloves are off, and I don’t know if we can do that.’

  That shocked her. ‘You don’t like me?’ she asked, feeling gutted, because it was the one thing that had never occurred to her, but he shook his head instantly.

  ‘Connie, don’t be ridiculous, of course I like you. I’ve always liked you. It’s just such a significant thing, so monumental, and I just don’t think I can do it. And I don’t want you building your hopes up, allowing yourself to imagine that this is all going to work out in the end, because it’s not. So, there you have it. You wanted to know why I can’t help you. That’s why.’

  She lifted her shoulders slightly. ‘So that’s it, then. I go down the anonymous donor route,’ she told him simply.

  He held her eyes for a moment, then looked away, hating the idea, unwilling to confront the reality of her doing what she’d said. Watching another man’s child grow inside her, knowing it could have been his.

  No. That was never going to happen. The immediate future was bad enough, though, the prospect of being close to Connie for weeks or maybe even months with this ridiculous longing for her, this burning need occupying his every waking thought. Could he do it without losing his mind?

  ‘Fair enough. It’s your decision. So, will you still take the job?’

  He could feel her eyes on him, and he turned his head and searched them.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I will. Why not? I need a job and somewhere to live. You need a locum, I’m certainly qualified enough, and the cabin would be brilliant. It would be great for Saffy, and it would give us both privacy and enough space to retreat if we get on top of each other. It would be perfect.’

  He didn’t want to think about them getting on top of each other; the images it brought to mind were enough to blow his mind. But she was right, it would be perfect for her and the dog, and it would solve his staffing crisis. And despite him telling her he wouldn’t talk about it and couldn’t do it, it would give him a chance to get to know her, to understand her motivations for wanting a baby.

  So he could give her the child she so desperately wanted?

  Panic clawed at him. Hell, what on earth was he getting himself into? The very thought of his child growing in her body made his chest tighten with long-buried emotions that he really didn’t want to analyse or confront. But...

  ‘So?’ she prompted. ‘Do we have a deal?’

  He met her eyes, and she saw the tension in his face, the reluctance, the hesitation, and something else she didn’t really understand, some powerful emotion that scared her slightly because it was the closest she’d ever come to seeing inside his soul. It was so raw, so elemental, and she was about to tell him to forget it when he nodded his head.

  Just once, slowly.

  ‘OK. Do the locum thing, but I don’t want to hear another word about this baby idea. OK?’

  ‘OK. So—can I look at this cabin?’

  He gave a short huff of laughter. ‘Um—yeah, but it’s not exactly pristine. I haven’t even opened the door for months.’

  ‘Well, no time like the present,’ she said cheerfully, putting her mug down. ‘Come on. Where’s the key?’

  ‘Right here.’

  He unhooked it from the back of the kitchen door and went down the steps and across the lawn, put it in the lock and swung the door open, flicking on the light to dispel the gathering dusk.

  ‘Wow.’

  He looked around and winced. Maybe he should have left the light off. ‘I’ll clear it out and give it a good clean. It’s a tip.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. OK, it’s a bit dusty, but it’s lovely! Oh, James, it’ll be perfect!’

  He studied it, trying to see it through her eyes, but all he could see was the garden furniture stacked up against the wall and the amount of work he’d have to do to clean it up.

  ‘I don’t know about perfect, but you’re right, it would be ideal for you and the dog. We could easily rig up a small kitchen area, a kettle and toaster, something like that. I can get you a small fridge, too.’


  ‘Are you sure?’

  Was he? Probably not, but he’d said he’d do it now so how could he change his mind and let her down? The enthusiasm in her eyes was enough to cripple him.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ he said gruffly. ‘When do you want to start?’

  * * *

  Well, she wasn’t getting what she’d come for, but he’d taken a lot of the stress and worry out of the next few weeks at a stroke, and she supposed she should be thankful for that.

  And she’d be working with James again, after all this time. She’d never thought she’d do that again, and the prospect was oddly exciting.

  She’d loved working with him nine years ago. He’d been a brilliant doctor and a skilful and patient mentor and she couldn’t wait to work with him again. And she was looking forward to getting back to normality, to real life. Not the strange and somehow dislocated life of an army wife trying to keep her career going despite the constant moves, or the empty and fruitless life of a woman widowed far too young and unfulfilled, but real life where she could make her own decisions.

  She’d thought about it all night, lying awake in that beautiful bedroom listening to the sound of the sea sucking on the shingle, the rhythm curiously soothing. She’d had to go down and let Saffy out in the middle of the night, and once she’d settled her she’d curled up in the chair in the bedroom window staring out over the moonlit sea and hoping she wouldn’t let him down.

  Not that there was any reason why she should, of course. She was a good doctor, too, and she had confidence in herself. And if he didn’t want to give her a child, felt he couldn’t do it—well, he had the right to do that. It was a shame, though, because he was perfect for the job. Intelligent, good looking, funny, kind to animals, he could make amazing coffee...

  He’d make someone a perfect husband, if only he wasn’t so set against it. What a waste. But that was his business, his decision, his choice to make. And when it came to the baby thing, there were other ways, other avenues to explore.

  Except maybe, of course, if she was working alongside him, he might change his mind—