Healing Her Emergency Doc

by Caroline Anderson

  He’d forgotten.

  Forgotten how it had felt to kiss her, how eager and filled with longing her mouth had been, how much he’d wanted her. And as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, he felt the years roll away, the sense of loss, regret, disappointment all fading away and taking them right back to that last night, when they’d come so close...

  He couldn’t let her go—not now, when fate had given them one last chance.

  “Stay with me,” he murmured, kissing her, nibbling her lips, brushing his mouth back and forth against hers and feeling the soft drag of their damp lips clinging.

  She eased away, doubt in her eyes—doubt, and a longing he’d never really seen before.

  He cradled her cheek in his hand, his heart pounding. “Stay with me,” he said again.

  “I...”

  He held his breath, his fingers threading gently through her hair, sifting it, waiting. He felt as much as saw the moment she crumbled, the moment common sense flew out of the window, and she tilted her head back and met his eyes.

  Dear Reader,

  One of the worst things about being an author is the capacity to “play God” and throw life-changing events in the path of our heroes and heroines. One of the best things about being an author is the capacity to find a way through what life (i.e., me!) has thrown at them, and help them find happiness together. Another one of the worst things—finding that way can be excruciating!

  As can finding the plot. I had no idea what to write for this book. My mind was empty. I needed a scenario, a conflict, a catastrophe. But what? Then on a shopping trip I met a lady with visual impairment and got chatting with her and her lovely guide dog, Yara. And thus this book was born!

  If you want to know more about the work of guide dogs, then I can highly recommend Kika and Me by Dr. Amit Patel. He lost his sight when he was a young doctor and had to stop work, but Kika changed his life. Inspirational!

  In the meantime, I hope you love Tom and Laura as much as I do.

  Caroline x

  Healing Her Emergency Doc

  Caroline Anderson

  Caroline Anderson is a matriarch, writer, armchair gardener, unofficial tearoom researcher and eater of lovely cakes. Not necessarily in that order! What Caroline loves: her family. Her friends. Reading. Writing contemporary love stories. Hearing from readers. Walks by the sea with coffee/ice cream/cake thrown in! Torrential rain. Sunshine in spring and autumn. What Caroline hates: losing her pets. Fighting with her family. Cold weather. Hot weather. Computers. Clothes shopping. Caroline’s plans: keep smiling and writing!

  Books by Caroline Anderson

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  Hope Children’s Hospital

  One Night, One Unexpected Miracle

  Yoxburgh Park Hospital

  Risk of a Lifetime

  Their Meant-to-Be Baby

  The Midwife’s Longed-For Baby

  Bound by Their Babies

  Their Own Little Miracle

  A Single Dad to Heal Her Heart

  From Heartache to Forever

  Tempted by the Single Mom

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  A massive thank-you to all those people worldwide who’ve put their lives on the line to keep us safe and well and fed. We owe you more than words can say.

  Praise for Caroline Anderson

  “What a delightful story.... Overall, Ms. Anderson has delivered an emotionally-animating and entertaining read in this book...the romance was nicely-detailed.”

  —Harlequin Junkie on From Heartache to Forever

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EXCERPT FROM A BABY TO RESCUE THEIR HEARTS BY LOUISA HEATON

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘LAURA?’

  The voice was deep, soft, and weirdly familiar. She hadn’t heard it for years, but it still made her heart tumble in her chest.

  No. It can’t be...

  But her heart was doing a little jig behind her ribs as if it knew better, and she felt suddenly dizzy and light-headed.

  Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just low blood sugar. Or interview nerves. And anyway, it won’t be him. Not here...

  Slowly, reluctantly, she looked up and met those totally unforgettable slate grey eyes. Eyes that had teased, and laughed, and—just that once—burned for her.

  But not now. Right now they looked a little stunned. She knew how that felt.

  What’s he doing here?

  The interview? No—but why else would he be wearing a suit? And if he was in the running, she was scuppered. He was too good—too convincing. He should have been a salesman, not a doctor. He could convince anyone of anything, and the interview panel would fall for it, just like they all did. Like she had.

  Almost... But she hadn’t made it easy for him.

  She’d turned him down over and over again for the whole of their medical degree course, but rejection had been a bit of a novelty for Tom ‘Mr Popularity’ Stryker and he wasn’t a quitter, so it had turned into a sort of game. He’d ask, she’d say no.

  It had taken him five years of persistence, but at the Leavers’ Ball he’d had one last go, cranked up the charm to full volume and pulled out all the stops, and he’d almost convinced her to go home with him. Almost.

  She hadn’t seen him since that night, but just remembering it made her squirm. Awkward wasn’t in it.

  Please don’t bring it up.

  Surely he wouldn’t, not here. Maybe he wouldn’t. He was smiling at her now, the warm, effortlessly sexy smile that had always made her stomach turn over and her heart beat a little faster. So that hadn’t changed, then.

  Why aren’t I over you?

  Her breath locked in her throat, and she dredged up what was probably a very unconvincing smile and found her voice at last. ‘Tom. What are you doing here?’

  Stupid, inane question.

  His mouth quirked, his smile wry now.

  ‘Do I really need to answer that?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Probably not.’

  He gave a soft huff of laughter, and dropped casually into the seat next to hers—not that there was a lot of choice as it was the only free seat in the small waiting area—and she shifted slightly away from him, because the scent drifting from his body brought back memories she would rather have forgotten.

  Memories that had haunted her dreams for the last seven years while her imagination had tried to fill in the blanks.

  ‘So, how are you?’ he asked, and she swallowed.

  ‘I’m...’ What? Achingly lonely? A little lost since her grandfather died? Happy at work, but only then?

  ‘I’m OK. Busy.’ At least it wasn’t a lie, although she’d be more OK if she could land this senior Specialty Registrar job in the Emergency Department she’d been working in for months, and he’d just messed that up for her. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m good,’ he said. ‘Busy, of course, like you, but it goes with the territory, I guess. So what have you been up to since uni? Presumably not married with three kids if you’re going after a senior post.’

  ‘No, no kids, I’m still single.’ Or single again, since she’d dropped everything and come hotfoot to Suffolk, but she wasn’t going to raise that, and anyway, she wa
s more interested in him. ‘How about you? Did you finally settle down?’ she asked, to shift the conversation away from herself, and then regretted showing the slightest sign of curiosity. Not that she didn’t want to know...

  But his mouth tightened into what could barely be called a smile and those incredibly expressive eyes went blank.

  ‘Oh, you know me, I’m a free spirit,’ he said, his voice light and breezy and oddly unconvincing as he glanced away.

  There was a whole world left unsaid, but he clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Because he’d just come out of a messy relationship, too? She could understand that. She didn’t want to talk about hers, either. They were both allowed their privacy, but it must have been pretty bad, because the Tom she knew would never leave London without a very good reason.

  ‘So, where are you working now?’ he asked, lobbing the ball firmly back into her court, but she wasn’t about to tell him. On a need-to-know basis, he frankly didn’t, and she wanted to keep this as impersonal as possible, so she stuck to the bare bones of the truth.

  ‘Nowhere permanent at the moment. I’ve been doing a bit of locuming for a while, off and on.’

  He frowned, his brows pleating together slightly as he looked back at her. ‘Locuming? That doesn’t sound like you. I thought you always wanted security?’

  Trust him to get straight to the heart of it. She slapped on a smile and kept her voice deliberately light and airy as he’d done. ‘I do, but I needed a break. I never had a gap year, so why not? But it’s been nearly a year now, so it’s probably time to get back to focusing on my career.’

  He cocked his head on one side and studied her, looking unconvinced. ‘You took a year out at this stage? Was that wise?’

  She looked away. ‘It was for me.’

  ‘So is that what this is about, this interview? Getting back on track?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ she said, wondering when being economical with the truth morphed into a lie. ‘Plus I need to earn a living and having a regular income is quite handy like that.’

  He chuckled, suddenly looking more like the Tom she remembered, his eyes crinkling at the corners. They’d always done that, and she hated the effect it was having on her. That it had always had on her. ‘So how about you?’ she asked, still insanely curious about him leaving London. ‘Why are you after this job in particular?’

  He shrugged. ‘Next step on the career ladder, nice place, good hospital—why not? Same reasons as you, I guess. So where are you living now?’ he added, his breath drifting against her face, trailing over it like the touch of a feather and making all her nerve endings dance.

  She ignored it, wondering what to tell him. Not too much. Not all of it. She settled on fact—economy with the truth again. ‘At home—in my grandfather’s house.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘That makes sense. How is he?’

  She looked away, knowing her eyes would be raw with the pain of loss and really, really not wanting to go there. Not today of all days, with her interview looming. ‘He’s been ill, but he’s—OK.’ Now it’s over...

  The meeting room door opened and James, the ED clinical lead, ushered the first candidate out and looked round. ‘Thomas Stryker?’

  ‘Good luck,’ she said mechanically, and he got to his feet.

  ‘You know you don’t mean that,’ he murmured with a wry smile tugging at his ridiculously beautiful mouth, and turned towards James, the smile widening.

  ‘Hi. I’m Tom.’

  ‘James Slater. Come on in, Tom.’

  The door to the meeting room closed behind them, and she stared at it, her shoulders slumping in despair.

  He’ll get it. He’s bound to. Why didn’t I do more interview prep? For all the difference it’ll make, with him in the running.

  That would teach her to take things for granted, but she hadn’t been alone. She’d bumped into Matt Hunter yesterday when he’d come down to the ED, and he’d wished her luck. ‘Livvy says you’ll smash it,’ he’d told her, and she’d laughed. ‘Your wife’s just being nice,’ she’d told him, but he’d shaken his head. ‘No, she meant it. She says you’re a great doctor and a real asset to the department, and James agrees. You’ll get it, Laura. You’re too good to lose. We need people like you here.’

  She’d believed him at the time, but not any more. She looked at the other two candidates. One looked terrified, the other bored and fidgety. The one who’d just come out had looked near to tears. She might have stood a chance against them, but now...

  Now, there was Tom, always smiling, always up for whatever challenge/opportunity/pretty girl/party presented itself. He’d aced his medical degree, presumably sailed through the early years of Foundation training and after another five years was now a prime candidate for the vacant senior SpR post in the ED at Yoxburgh Park Hospital. The role she’d hoped would be hers, the job she so desperately needed so she could stay here in her grandfather’s house, with Millie.

  The job she’d been told by James Slater to apply for, because it had her name written all over it.

  Well, so it might have had, but James hadn’t met Tom then, of course, and Tom had that way of convincing people that they wanted all sorts of things that in their right minds they wouldn’t contemplate—although thankfully her common sense had rescued her from that particular catastrophe.

  The door opened again, and her head snapped up. She could hear him laughing, hear the smile in his voice as he thanked them, almost smell the success on him as he walked confidently out of the room and took his seat again beside her.

  ‘You look happy,’ she said, forcing a smile, and he grinned.

  ‘Well, I got through to the second round, so I’m not unhappy,’ he said softly, and then studied her searchingly, his brows pleating together. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Of course.’ She looked away before he could read the lie in her eyes. ‘It’s just a little—awkward. It’s the last place I would have expected you to look for a job.’

  ‘Why? It’s hardly outer Mongolia.’

  ‘It’s not London, either, so it just feels a bit weird that you’re here. It’s not like you to go provincial.’

  She could feel him still studying her, his eyes boring through into her brain, trying to read her mind.

  ‘It’s not that that’s bugging you. It’s us.’

  ‘There is—was—no us.’

  The soft huff of his laugh drifted across her skin, teasing her nerve endings.

  ‘No, there wasn’t, was there? And you’re still feeling guilty about that,’ he murmured slowly, and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

  ‘Why should I feel guilty?’ she muttered, and she felt her skin tingle as he laughed again. She could feel him studying her intently, and she had to force herself to sit still.

  ‘You tell me.’ His voice dropped another notch and the laughter disappeared. ‘Why did you run away?’

  Really? Here and now? Because she was so not going into it here.

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Laura Kemp?’

  Saved. Bless James and his timing. She leapt to her feet.

  ‘Good luck.’

  He really didn’t mean it, either. He was only being polite, just as she’d been, but she thanked him anyway and walked towards James, her legs oddly wobbly and James’s smile of encouragement not really working, because he was only part of a panel and they had to go for the best person for the job.

  Had to. And it wouldn’t be her. Not in a million years, not with Tom in the line-up, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. No way. If he got this job over her, it was going to be because he’d earned it, not because she’d given it away.

  She straightened her spine, pinned on her best game face and walked into the interview with her head held high.

  * * *

  Tom watched the door close behind her and blew out a long, sil
ent breath, feeling the tension drain out of him.

  Of all the people to run into, and of all the times, just when his life had fallen apart and he was looking for a fresh start. The last thing he needed was that kind of distraction—although judging by the way she’d reacted to him, it seemed highly unlikely that she’d want to turn back the clock to a relationship that had never even got past first base.

  She was right, it was awkward. Very awkward, not only because of the job, but because of the way they’d left it.

  Or rather, she’d left it.

  He’d asked her out so many times, and every time she’d laughed at him and brushed him aside with a joke at his expense, so he hadn’t really believed it when she’d gone with him to the Leavers’ Ball. It was his last opportunity to get her to change her mind about him before they all went their separate ways and he lost her for ever, and it had felt like the start of something real between them, something genuine and heartfelt.

  They’d danced all night, the tension between them winding tighter and tighter with every brush of their bodies, and at the end he’d asked her to go home with him. He’d been stunned when she’d said yes, and then at the last minute she’d changed her mind and called a taxi, so he’d gone back to his flat to nurse his battered ego and try to work out why. What had he done wrong?

  Nothing, probably, and it was a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, but she hadn’t given him any clues, so he still didn’t know why. He didn’t know why it mattered so much, either, but apparently it did, and seeing her again had done nothing but stir it up all over again.

  He could have asked her at the time, but he hadn’t tried to contact her. That would have looked desperate and there was no way he’d been going there, so he’d decided to wait and see how she played it the next time they ran into each other.

  Only they never had because she’d gone home the next day without even saying goodbye.

  And that was it. No more Laura, taunting him from afar with her quiet ways and refusal to play. No more jokey put-downs, no more bumping into her in the library—nothing. He hadn’t seen her again until today, and it had awakened all sorts of not very comfortable memories.