to her hands, to whether or not she had been wearing a wedding ring. Although he knew not wearing one was no guarantee of anything these days, that some women preferred not to wear a wedding ring any more. Unlike Abbie and Jarrett, who had given each other eternity rings on that day two years ago when they had promised to love each other for ever...
Life, Jonathan decided as he strode purposefully down the corridor, was certainly strange. The three of them—Jonathan and his two brothers—had been conditioned, after a stormy childhood within an unhappy marriage, not to want to take that plunge themselves, and yet he knew for a fact that Jarrett hadn’t looked at another woman since he met and married Abbie, and that he never would. How the mighty had fallen!
Now Abbie and Jarrett had a son...
Conor James, he discovered, when he arrived at Abbie’s room twenty minutes later. Abbie was still a little groggy, but obviously ecstatically happy. Jarrett was smiling so proudly as he beamed at his wife and son.
As babies went, Jonathan supposed this one was quite pretty—if a boy could be called pretty!—and not at all wrinkled and frowning like every other new-born baby Jonathan had seen. But apart from the fact that Conor was his nephew, that he had his parents’ dark hair, and that Jarrett obviously thought he was the most wonderful child ever, Jonathan quickly tired of looking down at the small, defenceless human being, whose only activity seemed to be, from time to time, screwing up his face and stretching out his fingers. Give him a tiny adult like Charlie any day!
Although even she seemed smitten. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous, Uncle Jonathan?’ She glowed up at him from where she sat next to the baby playing with his tiny hands.
‘Lovely,’ he agreed, wondering how soon he would be able to get away.
Abbie took one look at his face and burst out laughing. ‘Wait until it’s your own baby, then we’ll see how lovely it is!’ she teased affectionately, obviously none the worse for Conor’s early traumatic birth.
‘You’ll wait a long time,’ Jonathan muttered dryly.
Jarrett gave him a sideways glance. ‘Jordan tells us you’re smitten,’ he taunted, all the time holding tightly on to Abbie’s hand.
Jonathan shot his younger brother an impatient glance, receiving only a cheeky grin in return. ‘Jordan has a big mouth,’ he bit out. ‘And now, as all the Hunter board of directors seem to be congregated in this room, perhaps one of us should get back to work and tell the rest of the employees they can go home for the day!’
‘Are you volunteering?’ Jordan looked at him with innocently wide eyes—eyes that danced with devilment!
‘No—you are,’ Jonathan told him firmly. ‘I have something else I have to do.’
‘Nurse Royal went off duty ten minutes ago,’ Jordan told him with dry mockery.
He glared across the room at his youngest brother. ‘How the hell do you know that?’
Jordan gave him a self-satisfied grin. ‘I asked,’ he answered.
Jonathan’s hands clenched at his sides. One of these days he was going to take great pleasure in taking that grin off Jordan’s face and ramming it down his—
‘We’ll see you later, Jonathan,’ Jarrett put in lightly, usually the one to act as peacemaker between his two more volatile brothers.
With one last glaring look at Jordan, Jonathan quickly took his leave, promising to return later that evening to visit mother and baby again, hurrying out to the corridor, wondering if he was going to be too late to find Gaye before she left.
He was. There were quite a few people bustling about, some in uniform, others in everyday clothes, but none of them was Gaye. Damn Jordan; if he had been going to ask about Gaye then he should have asked for her address, and not just the time she would be leaving!
It was as he was driving out of the grounds of the clinic that he spotted her. She was standing across the road at a bus stop, noticeable to him, in spite of the dozen or so other people that were also waiting in line.
Jonathan no longer needed to wonder about the length of her hair; it fell in a thick, straight curtain down to the middle of her back, her body boyishly slender in a dark green sweatshirt and pale blue denims. She looked very young without the officialdom of her uniform, ethereally lovely.
It took Jonathan some minutes to negotiate the flow of traffic, all the time hoping the damned bus wouldn’t arrive and whisk her away from under his nose before he could get the car over to her!
It didn’t. Although Gaye seemed totally unaware of the black BMW parked at the side of the road; those gorgeous green eyes of hers were staring off into the distance, but at the same time seeming to see nothing.
It wasn’t until Jonathan actually stood directly in front of her that she became aware of his presence there at all, and even then she merely looked at him with a complete lack of recognition. Damn it, this woman was destroying his ego!
‘Jonathan Hunter,’ he reminded her tersely—annoyed at the necessity of having to do so. ‘I thought I could give you a lift home.’
She blinked long dark lashes as she looked up at him uncomprehendingly. Then the penny seemed to drop, and a delicate colour entered her otherwise pale cheeks. ‘Mr Hunter,’ she acknowledged. ‘I—er—the bus is just coming.’ She looked over his shoulder at the approaching vehicle.
Jonathan didn’t even turn. ‘Then we had better go now so I can move my car and the bus can pull up.’
‘But—’
‘Come on, Gaye.’ He took a firm hold of her arm and guided her over to the front passenger door of his car, opening it for her to get in. ‘We’re holding up the traffic,’ he told her firmly before closing the door behind her and moving around to his side of the car, putting up an acknowledging hand to the bus driver, then getting in behind the wheel.
Jonathan glanced at Gaye as he switched on the engine, but she sat very still beside him, keeping her gaze straight ahead. He wasn’t sure if she was annoyed with him, or just amazed at finding herself seated in his car rather than on the bus. Whatever, he was too busy at the moment getting back into the flow of traffic before the bus driver decided to give him a helping hand by shunting the back of his car. Considering he had only had it a couple of months, he wouldn’t be too thrilled if the other man decided to do that!
‘Which way?’ he asked Gaye once they were finally moving again.
‘That’s what I was trying to say to you earlier.’ She spoke quietly, in that softly melodic voice. ‘I live in the suburbs of London, and have a bus and then a train to catch to get home.’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘That still doesn’t tell me which way.’
She gave him the directions precisely, distinctly, before once again lapsing into silence.
This woman was certainly different, Jonathan decided; he had never met a woman who talked as little as she did. Not that he could stand chattering females either, but this young lady closely resembled a clam! All he knew about her was what he could actually see with his own eyes. She was a trained midwife, tall, blond, green-eyed, probably ten years younger than his own thirty-seven.
But he had known he wanted
