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St Piran's: The Wedding!. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

St Piran's: The Wedding! - Alison Roberts


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the theatre.

      Even then, something made Megan hesitate for just a heartbeat and, without any conscious thought, she reached out to touch Josh’s arm in a gesture of reassurance. Not that she needed to touch him to ramp up the tension. Megan opened her mouth to say something but there were no words available.

      With a curt nod, she turned away and went to throw on some scrubs.

      Of course she would do everything she could to save his family. She would do it for any of her patients but if heroics were called for in this case, she wouldn’t hesitate.

      After all, it was Josh who had saved her life all those years ago.

      That touch on his arm was almost enough to utterly unravel Josh.

      His breathing ragged, tiny sounds escaping that could have been the precursors of gut-wrenching sobs if he couldn’t pull himself together, Josh went back to his pacing.

      Back to the window end of the corridor where he was far enough away to keep his agony private but close enough to see who came and went from Theatre Three.

      He got his breathing back under control and silent again but guilt was still threatening to crush him.

      This was his fault. If Rebecca died, he would know where the blame could be laid. Why had he allowed himself to be pushed so far away? In recent weeks she had refused to see him. Or talk to him even. The only information he had been given had been that Rebecca was ‘fine’. That her GP was looking after her, with the implication that he was doing a better job than Josh ever had.

      God … if it hadn’t been so hard, he would have been able to ask the questions that might have told him something wasn’t right. He might have given in to the urge to turn up on her doorstep and make sure she was ‘fine’ for himself.

      As recently as this morning, he’d thought of doing exactly that on his way to work but it had been all too easy to talk himself out of it. He hadn’t really wanted to start his day by stopping by his old house, had he? If he was really honest, he wanted to avoid laying hands on the woman he’d once loved but should never have married.

      But the way he felt about Megan had been the reason he’d married Rebecca at all, wasn’t it?

      Oh … God … the threads of his life were so tangled. So confused … The pain of his childhood, knowing how much his mother had loved his father and seeing how she’d been destroyed bit by bit as she had been cheated on time and again. The conviction that, if this was what love was all about, he wanted nothing to do with it.

      Knowing that he was falling deeper in love with Megan with every passing minute of that night they’d spent together.

      Turning his back on her and everything that that kind of love could lead to.

      Marrying Rebecca because he had been lonely. And because it had been safe. He had liked her. Respected her. Loved her the way you could love a good friend. A safe kind of love.

      Had he allowed himself to be pushed so far out of Rebecca’s life because it had been so hard to face the irrefutable evidence that he’d cheated on Megan by having sex with Rebecca that one, last time? When he’d known the marriage was over and it was only a matter of time before he and Megan could finally be together.

      But Megan believed he had cheated on his wife when he’d gone to her bed.

      He couldn’t blame her for hating him for it.

      At least he’d had the chance to save Megan’s life that time, ironically in not dissimilar circumstances, but right now he’d been rendered useless. He couldn’t even try to save Rebecca.

      Did people think he wouldn’t want to?

      She was the mother of his children, for God’s sake. Still his wife, even if it was in name only.

      He had loved her once.

      Just … not the way he’d loved Megan.

      A part of him, so ruthlessly and successfully squashed months ago, was still capable of reminding him that he still loved Megan in that way. And always would. Not that Josh was going to acknowledge the whisper from his soul. It was a love he had chosen to forsake.

      For his career and his sanity, that first time.

      The second time it had been for his unborn children.

      What would he have left if things weren’t going well in Theatre Three?

      He’d lose his wife.

      His children.

      And he knew what that pain was like. It was years ago now but the memory of holding that tiny scrap of humanity in his hands would never leave him. He’d known, on some level, that it had been his own son that Megan had lost that day. That he had been holding. It was too neat a fit, not only with the dates but with the power of that night. The connection that had felt like it would last for ever. The kind of connection that made it feel right to create a baby. Make a family.

      He’d lose Megan again, too, if things weren’t going well in Theatre Three.

      No. A fresh wave of pain ramped up the confused agony Josh was grappling with.

      He’d already lost Megan. Months ago.

      Something made him stop the caged-in prowl back and forth across the corridor end. Made him freeze and whip his head sideways.

      Of course it was Megan. In green theatre scrubs now, with her hair covered by a cap. Moving decisively from the door of the changing room to the one beneath the flashing orange light. She didn’t look in his direction.

      Despite, or perhaps because of, the overwhelming emotions he was having to deal with, Josh allowed himself to be distracted from the agonising, lonely wait for just a heartbeat.

      Baggy, shapeless clothes like theatre scrubs did nothing to stop Megan being the most beautiful woman Josh had ever known. It didn’t matter what she wore. Scrubs. Tattered old jeans. The gorgeous gown she had worn as a bridesmaid in a royal wedding party.

      Oh … no … Tasha. Josh reached for the mobile phone clipped to his belt. He needed to let his sister know what was happening. She could be the one to break the news to their mother.

      What time would it be in San Saverre?

      As if it mattered. Tasha would want to know the trouble that both her brother and her best friend were in right now.

      Her loyalty would be tested. She knew the empty space he was in now, having sacrificed a relationship with the woman he truly loved for the sake of his children. To keep a marriage, even in name only, so that he wouldn’t repeat history by being the kind of man their father had been. She would know how devastating it would be, being faced with the prospect of losing those children.

      But she would also know how hard this had to be for Megan. To be expected to save his babies that were being carried by another woman. The babies she could never have given him because losing their son, all those years ago, meant she could never have another child.

      Josh had to stifle an audible groan.

      He was a reasonably intelligent man. He was damned good at the job he did, running the emergency department of St Piran’s.

      How was it that he always messed things up so badly when it came to his relationships with women?

      He could save lives.

      But he was just as good at breaking hearts.

      It was his fault Rebecca hadn’t had medical help in time to prevent this catastrophe.

      His fault that Megan had become pregnant with his first child.

      His fault that she’d lost the baby. That she’d never have another.

      No wonder Megan had blanked him at Tasha’s wedding. He’d done it to her, hadn’t he?

      Twice.

      Every time he’d


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