The Emergency Doctor Claims His Wife. Margaret McDonaghЧитать онлайн книгу.
hands on her body, the brush and stroke of those clever fingers over super-sensitive skin.
She remembered, too, how slumberous dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes had turned almost black with hot passion when he’d made love to her. And, oh, how he had made love to her! Intensely, wickedly, gloriously, end-lessly…with generosity, fire, sinful inventiveness and a single-minded dedication to meet her every need and leave her boneless, breathless and deliciously satisfied. Every feminine part of her tightened, a desperate ache of want lodging deep inside her. She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the erotic memories. But it didn’t help. They were impinged on her brain for ever, and even five years of separation and determined efforts to forget him had not worked.
Nathan was the same, yet different. He had always been impressive to look at, but the past years had seen his six-foot-two-inch body harden and mature even more, while his face appeared leaner, more angular, but just as devastatingly arresting. He had a presence, a latent sexuality that was impossible to ignore, and he was way too handsome and compelling for her peace of mind. Yet he had also been quiet and reserved, mysterious, unapproachable, allowing few people close enough to glimpse the real man hidden inside. A caring man, dedicated to his job, serious and watchful, with a smile all the more heart-stopping for its recipient because of its rarity. At least that was how she had felt. And at one time those special smiles and all that intensity had been for her and her alone—until the fateful moment it had all blown up in her face and their relationship had been over.
Smarting with fresh pain, Annie wondered how Nathan would feel when he discovered she was here. Thankfully, she had the advantage of knowing what was to come. Would he be as shocked and disturbed as she had been at her first sight of him? Would his body feel the unwanted yet instinctive reaction to her presence as hers did to his? Would he feel anything after five years? He’d rejected her, after all.
She had no more time to ponder on her questions as the consultant chose that moment to dismiss the group and her musings were curtailed. He looked up, saw her, and beckoned for her to join him.
‘Annie, could you stay back a moment, please?’ Robert Mowbray requested, earning her a fulminating, envious glare from Olivia as the nurse flounced away.
As the other staff dispersed, to tend to their assigned patients and assist the new ones arriving all the time, Annie fought a fresh welling of panic and reluctantly walked forward. If she had been in trouble before, meeting Nathan’s dark gaze set off an internal earthquake, way off the Richter scale, rocking her to her foundations. She felt weak, shaken, challenged. Immediately she realised she did not have the upper hand at all. Nathan looked far from surprised to see her. He watched her, silent, unreadable, in control. A barely there, secret smile tipped one corner of his sensual mouth, stirring her blood, tangling her nerves into knots and making her feel in imminent danger of losing her senses. Deliberately she looked away and focused on Robert, desperate for something—anything—to ground her back in reality.
‘Nathan, this is Dr Annie Webster—one of our specialist registrars.’ As the consultant, short, stocky and approaching retirement age, introduced them, Annie was relieved that he appeared unaware of any past history between Nathan and herself. ‘Annie, meet our new Senior House Officer, Nathan Shepherd.’
Surprise held her silent for several moments. Surprise because, whatever else had passed between them on a personal level, she knew that Nathan was an amazing doctor. Not only was he academically brilliant—she had achieved far more in medical school thanks to Nathan’s help with her studies than she ever would have alone—but he was also someone who had a natural empathy with patients. They trusted him and, however awkward and aloof he seemed in social settings, he had an innate ability to set those in his care at ease.
Knowing he was a vastly better doctor than she could ever hope to be, he should be way ahead of her in qualifications by now. Especially as he had been so focused, so dedicated. Wasn’t that why he had not wanted to commit to her or to their relationship? It didn’t make sense that she had recently achieved her specialist registrar status while he was still an SHO. Why? What had happened to hold him back? Not that it was any of her business. She didn’t want to know, she assured herself. But still…
A discreet cough from Robert Mowbray brought her mind back to the present uncomfortable situation. ‘Annie?’
‘Yes.’ She battled to maintain her composure. ‘I remember Dr Shepherd. We knew of each other some years ago, when we were training.’
Proud of herself for remaining outwardly calm, she smiled politely as she extended her hand for a swift shake, hastily withdrawing it before the full force of the electric current that zapped along her nerve-endings could reduce her to mush. Damn it. She had hoped to feel nothing. Far from it. Every atom of her being was alive with sensation.
‘Annie.’
Just one word, delivered in that no-nonsense Lancastrian voice, rough-edged and seductive in tone, shook her to the core—again—overloading her with memories. Memories of long hours of loving, of Nathan’s constant support and encouragement, of the way he had helped her study, keeping her supplied with her favourite apple and toffee doughnuts from the local bakery, of the private Nathan, relaxed and laughing…and of the searing pain of their furious parting.
Her gaze flicked to Nathan’s, then skittered away in alarm. She knew she had to say something, to respond in welcome, but… Behind her back she knotted her hands together, then drew in a lungful of air, trying to centre herself. She could do this. She could pretend his presence here didn’t matter, that he didn’t affect her as she apparently didn’t affect him.
‘How pleasant to see you again, Nathan. It’s good of you to step in like this and help out on a temporary basis.’
Pleasant? Temporary? They had known each other when they were training?
A muscle pulsed along Nathan’s jaw as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Annie could dismiss all they had once shared with those coolly formal words? He hadn’t been sure what to expect when they met again, and he had been glad to have yesterday to settle in, acquaint himself with his new colleagues and learn the lie of the land at the hospital before coming face to face with Annie. The department had been busy, the work varied and involving, and if he hadn’t been so gut-wrenchingly nervous about seeing Annie some time soon he would have enjoyed himself. As much as he had enjoyed anything without her in his life.
Since deciding to take this post in Strathlochan he had spent a ridiculous amount of time wondering what Annie would say and do, how it would feel to see her again, if she would be welcoming or displeased to see him. Now it was clear she was neither. Apparently she felt nothing at all—and her casual indifference hurt more than anything. She was treating him like some barely remembered inconsequential acquaintance, rather than the lover she had professed to adore beyond reason.
Their row that last dreadful day, and the way she had left him, had broken his heart, destroyed the hopes and dreams he had dared to believe in since meeting her. Now he looked at her, stunned at the dismissive uninterest in those amazing blue eyes. He might not have expected her to greet him with open arms—had even anticipated a few moments of characteristic temper and stubbornness—but he hadn’t been prepared for her cool unconcern.
The pain in his gut intensified. He had thought she might have grown up in five years, hoped she would have mellowed, matured, reasoned things out…understood that he hadn’t been the bad guy. She had been the one to end it, after all—to throw away everything they had on a whim, indulging in a customary tantrum because she hadn’t got her own way. But clearly Annie had not changed. Old hurts and the smart of injustice fired anew within him.
Practised at hiding his inner feelings, he took a few moments to study her. It was hardly possible, but she looked even more beautiful than ever—as if she had grown into herself during the intervening years. Above average height, her slender figure had a feminine lushness, firing his erotic fantasies, and the shapeless green scrubs hid a body he knew as intimately as his own. A body that was all woman, with long, toned limbs and mouthwatering curves. He knew every hollow, every freckle, every dip and rise, knew the silky-soft feel of her