ribs as she left the cubicle and checked her appearance in the mirror. She was determined to maintain a cool façade, despite the nerves that were tangling inside her, making her feel sick and unsteady. But Nathan would never know what seeing him again did to her. Somehow she would survive this shift, and then she would decide what to do. For once she gave thanks for Olivia’s excesses. The nurse had unwittingly alerted her to Nathan’s presence, giving her some time to prepare. Better this than the shock of coming face to face with him without prior warning.
Glancing at her watch, she groaned. It was time for the shift hand-over. Unable to linger indefinitely, she sucked in a deep, steadying breath, raised her chin in defiance, then opened the door and walked down the short corridor to confront her past.
Despite her good intentions, her steps faltered when she spotted Nathan on the far side of the group of staff gathered around senior consultant Robert Mowbray. Nathan had changed into the customary green scrubs worn by doctors in the department. A stethoscope was looped around his neck over his photo ID badge, drawing attention to his strong shoulders and broad chest. Thankful to hang back, sheltered from Nathan’s view by a crush of other colleagues, Annie endeavoured to concentrate as members of the previous shift detailed the patients still being cared for within the department.
Unsettled, she adjusted her position until she was able to observe Nathan without him being aware of her. Her chest tightened and her heart gave an irregular and worrisome flip as she assessed her former lover, taking in his familiar stance and the intentness of his expression as he jotted down some notes. She was unsurprised by his thoroughness. Nathan had always been dedicated to patient care. It was one of the many things she had admired… loved…about him. The pain inside her intensified. Her traitorous gaze drank him in, as if needing to quench an endless and long-endured thirst.
His dark brown hair was as rakish as ever—untamed and in need of a cut. She remembered what it had been like to sink her fingers into that hair, could almost feel again the luxuriant silken thickness of it against her skin. As she watched, he raised a hand and absently brushed a fallen lock back from his brow. Strong, capable hands. Hands that could heal. Hands that could bring unimaginable pleasure. Another shiver rippled through her as she remembered the caress of those 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
