Single Dad In Her Stocking / A Puppy And A Christmas Proposal. Alison Roberts

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Single Dad In Her Stocking / A Puppy And A Christmas Proposal - Alison Roberts Mills & Boon Medical

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of foster home or orphanage?

      She hadn’t even started her new locum position and they still had several days before Christmas arrived but it seemed like the chaos had already begun. As a few fat flakes of snow drifted gently onto her windscreen, Emma found she was smiling wryly.

      Almost grinning a few moments later, in fact.

      She had needed a distraction and it would appear that the universe was providing one.

       CHAPTER TWO

      UPPER BARNSLEY WAS bigger than other villages they had driven through, with its high street full of shops, a village green and a market square with a tall Christmas tree as a centrepiece. Moments later, Emma was following Max’s vehicle down a long, tree-lined driveway to stop in front of a house that took her breath away. She was still blinking up at the huge, three-storeyed gabled mansion with imposing chimneys and ivy creeping up its stone walls as Max opened the heavy wooden front door and waited for her to go inside.

      ‘You grew up here?’ Somehow it didn’t fit with the image of the contemporary ‘man about town’ she’d met in that London paediatric ward a decade ago. She gazed from one side of the entranceway to the other. There was probably a library in here. And a drawing room like they had in those period dramas on television with dogs lying in front of an open fire big enough to roast an ox. ‘This is amazing.’

      Max simply nodded. ‘It’s been in the family for more than a hundred years. Known locally as Cunningham Manor.’ He raised his voice. ‘Dad? You here?’

      A woman who looked to be in her late fifties appeared from a doorway at the far end of the entrance foyer. ‘He’s in the west wing,’ she told Max. ‘Oh…who’s this?’ She was wiping her hands on her apron and beaming as she came towards Emma. ‘I’m Maggie—Dr Cunningham’s housekeeper. Dr Cunningham senior, that is,’ she added.

      Max took pity on her. ‘The west wing is a private joke. Dad’s the GP for Upper Barnsley and the lower level of that side of the house used to be the stables, I believe. It was converted to be a clinic years before I was born.’ He turned to the housekeeper. ‘This is Emma Moretti,’ he told her. ‘She’s the locum who’s taking over from me at the hospital until we get the nanny situation sorted. She also happens to be an old friend of mine. We worked together in a paediatric ward a very long time ago.’

      Emma wasn’t about to contradict him publicly but calling her a friend was stretching things a little. They had been colleagues and she’d totally respected his abilities as a doctor but she’d never trusted him enough to think of him as a friend. Or maybe she hadn’t trusted herself? If they’d got close, she might have given in to that major attraction she’d felt for Max and how embarrassing could that have been? It had only taken one kiss for him to laugh about how she was ‘so not his type’. She’d agreed, of course, and laughed along with him. How else would one save face at a time like that? Besides, he’d been right. He was ‘so not her type’ as well, but it had been a bit of a put-down to find out that the attraction hadn’t actually been mutual.

      ‘Oh…wonderful.’ Maggie was still smiling. ‘You’ll need all the expert help you can get with these babies.’

      Babies? A chill ran down Emma’s spine. Max had said children, not babies.

      Children were so much easier to be around than babies. Especially newborn babies. She could work with them, of course, but preferably in a clinical setting rather than, say, an accident scene. And never in a private home. Even in a medical situation, being present at a birth or close to a tiny baby made the scars on her own heart ache. She might have built barriers to protect herself enough to live with the pain of only ever having a few hours with her own precious baby but she had no desire to deliberately test how strong those protective walls might be.

      ‘I didn’t bring Emma here to stand in for the nanny,’ Max told Maggie. ‘She’s supposed to be using my apartment but there’s been a small catastrophe with an upstairs flood and she needs to stay here until we can sort that out.’

      ‘It’s okay.’ Emma found her voice. ‘I’m sure I can find somewhere in town. It sounds like you’re going to be very busy if…if you’re expecting…babies?’

      What on earth was going on? she wondered. Was Max sharing custody for stepchildren of a failed marriage? Had he married someone who had already been pregnant with twins, perhaps? Or triplets? The thought of multiple newborn babies made Emma want to head straight out of the door and keep on going. She even looked in that direction, only to find a broad-shouldered older man coming in through the front door, with a small, scruffy white dog at his heels. It was a vision of what Max would look like in about thirty years’ time, she realised. Except that this man didn’t have the same charming smile. If anything, he was glowering at Emma.

      ‘What’s going on? Who’s this? A new nanny?’ He shut the door, turned and made an irritated sound. ‘Pirate, come here.’

      But the small, scruffy dog had made a beeline for Emma, was sitting at her feet and staring up at her with black button eyes. She guessed that he was mostly a West Highland White terrier but it was easy to see where his name had come from because he had a black patch covering one eye and ear. He was very cute. And he was wagging his tail. It was impossible not to bend down and offer him her hand. The small black nose felt cold and damp as it touched her skin.

      ‘Look at that,’ Max said. ‘That doesn’t happen very often. Pirate likes you. And no,’ he told his father. ‘This is Emma, who’s going to be my locum at the Royal. I told you about that plan.’

      ‘I thought she was staying at your place.’

      ‘My place is wrecked. I’ll explain later. The kids are due to arrive any minute. Maggie, could I ask you to make up another bedroom for Emma for tonight, at least? It seems that there aren’t any hotel rooms to be easily found.’

      ‘No, really… I should go.’ Emma actually took a step towards the door. ‘If I can’t find a hotel room in Cheltenham, I could try Gloucester…?’

      ‘Nonsense.’ Maggie’s hand was on Emma’s elbow. ‘We’ve got ten bedrooms here and I got an extra one ready in case the children wanted their own rooms later but I’m sure they’ll want to be together at least for now. Come with me.’

      So they were children now? Emma was becoming increasingly confused.

      ‘It’s snowing out there,’ Max’s father said, coming towards her. ‘You don’t want to be going anywhere if you don’t have to. You might get stuck until they come to clear the lanes. I’m James, by the way. James Cunningham. Max seems to have forgotten his manners.’

      Max shrugged and offered Emma a crooked smile but there were frown lines on his forehead. And some kind of plea in those dark eyes? The tension in the air here was palpable and Emma suddenly felt trapped but she couldn’t run away if someone needed help, could she?

      ‘And you’re most welcome to stay,’ James continued. Yes, there was a hint of the same kind of smile that Emma remembered his son using to devastating effect. Even a short-lived twinkle in his eyes. ‘Pirate is a very good judge of character.’ He snapped his fingers at the dog, who instantly went back to his master. ‘I’m going to make sure the fire’s going properly in the drawing room. Central heating is one thing, but you need to see some flames to feel properly warm when it’s snowing.’

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