‘For labour, but not delivery,’ Emma told her, leading the way out of the room and back down the corridor. ‘He also approves of aromatherapy, relaxation techniques and breathing.’
Realizing that some sort of response was expected, Sally managed a smile. ‘He sounds amazing.’
‘He’s very good with the women. Very skilled.’
Sally felt her insides twist viciously but kept her expression neutral. She knew exactly how skilled Tom Hunter was with women.
Swiftly she changed the subject. ‘So I’ll be working on the labour ward?’
‘That’s where we need you for now. We all move around the unit at times, and we try to give a woman a midwife that she knows, but you have a lot of labour ward experience and that’s the most important thing.’ Emma pushed open the door to the staffroom. ‘And this is the most important room on the labour ward. Better take a good look. You won’t get to see much of it.’
Sally walked over to the window and stared at the mountains, lost in their beauty, longing to be out there, walking or climbing. For her, life was a constant battle between her love of the outdoors and her love of midwifery.
She heard a heavy, male tread behind her and froze.
Even without looking she knew it was him.
She felt him.
They shared a connection that was beyond the physical. It had always been that way with them.
He’d truly been her other half. Until he’d torn them apart.
‘Hi, Tom. You’re just in time for a coffee and an introduction to our new midwife.’ Emma’s voice was bright and cheerful, like sunshine playing innocently in front of an approaching storm.
Reminding herself that she’d been rehearsing this exact moment for years, Sally turned, the expression in her green eyes cool and totally devoid of emotion as she brought into play all the skills she’d carefully developed.
He stood in the doorway, powerful legs spread apart in an arrogant pose, his blue eyes fixed on her with shimmering incredulity.
Sally felt the past slide over her like a suffocating cloak and with a determined effort she thrust it aside, reminding herself that the past was all about yesterdays and that she was only interested in today and tomorrow.
And neither was going to feature this man, even if he was straight out of a female fantasy.
And he was.
He’d always been indecently good-looking, she thought numbly, but age and maturity had added a hard edge to his masculinity that would make even the most cynical, man-wary female catch her breath.
And the combination of jet-black hair and blue eyes was a killer.
Resolutely she reined in her feelings, holding them close, reminding herself of the price of loving this man.
It was high. Too high.
She’d paid it once with interest and she wasn’t prepared to pay it again.
So she held that dark gaze steadily and noted the shock that he couldn’t quite conceal with a flicker of feminine satisfaction.
He hadn’t expected her to come home.
But she had. And he was going to have to live with that.
Like it or not, she was back.
And she was staying.
‘Hello, Tom.’ Her voice was cool and formal. Not a tremor, not a shake, not a flicker of emotion. She was proud of herself. ‘It’s been a long time.’
Tom braced his shoulders and tried to counter the shock wave that pulsed through his body.
He’d always known that one day Sally Jenner would walk into his life again. That he’d be forced to stare his past in the face.
Acknowledge the guilt.
It had been seven years and yet he still wasn’t able to remember their final encounter without breaking into a sweat.
He gritted his teeth, telling himself that he’d made the right decision for both of them, even though she hadn’t been able to see it at the time.
At first glance she seemed hardly to have changed. Still the same intriguing green eyes that flashed a hint of rebellion and challenge, still the slim legs, the narrow waist and the delicate curves. She looked as though a strong gust of wind would blow her over, but he knew better. Sally was fit and strong, probably the most athletic woman he’d ever met. She was an accomplished rock-climber, an impressive long-distance runner, and her wildness and courage had stolen his heart. In all the years he’d known her, he’d seen her cry only once.
And that had been the day he’d ended their relationship.
Looking at her soft, perfectly shaped mouth, Tom suddenly had trouble remembering why he’d done it, and he cursed mentally, wishing that he’d had time to prepare himself for her arrival.
Why the hell hadn’t someone told him that she was coming?
Warned him?
‘Does Bryony know you’re here?’
She’d been one of his sister’s closest friends and he knew that they’d kept in touch over the years.
One delicate eyebrow lifted a fraction and he saw the challenge in her green gaze. ‘Of course.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘She failed to mention it.’
‘She probably didn’t think you’d be interested.’
It was a less than subtle reminder that he’d been the one to cut her out of his life and Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck, seriously discomfited for the first time in his thirty-four years.
If he’d known she was coming back, he would have had time to prepare—would have somehow arranged for them to have their first meeting in private. Clearly there were things that needed to be said.
As if reminding them both that they weren’t alone, Emma gave a little cough.
‘You know each other?’ Her tone pulsed with a curiosity that she couldn’t hide and she glanced between them with interest.
Sally smiled, nothing in her expression suggesting that she was anything other than totally relaxed. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Her tone suggested a casual acquaintance of long standing, a relationship with no real attachment on either side.
Remembering the explosive passion they’d shared, Tom wondered how she’d managed to forget the incredible intimacies that had bound them together.
And then he looked into those cool green eyes and realized that she hadn’t forgotten.
