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His mouth twisted into something not quite a smile. “Are we still friends, Nell?”
“Of course, we are,” she insisted. “You’re my pal, my best mate.”
Oh, hell.
Deep breaths, Nell. Take deep breaths. True, your heart is thudding like it’s about to explode, but don’t say anything rash because if you’ve got this wrong, if you’ve misunderstood him, you are going to look really, really stupid.
“Jonah, I…” She moistened her lips. “When you say that you wish you were, do you mean that you wish…that you…that…?”
He put down his teacup. “Nell, I’ve always been lousy with words so maybe…” He reached out and cupped her face gently with his hand. “Maybe this might make it clearer?”
Oh, hell. Oh, double, triple hell. His eyes were dark and hot, and he wasn’t doing anything, simply cupping her cheek gently with his fingers. She knew he was giving her plenty of time to back away, plenty of time to get to her feet, but she didn’t want to back away, and she didn’t want to get to her feet.
“Nell?”
So much conveyed in one little word. So much implied, and asked, and understood. And though a niggling little voice whispered at the back of her mind that this was a very bad idea, the hand cupping her cheek was trembling, and so was she. Nell wanted so much to kiss him, to know what it would feel like, so when his lips came slowly toward hers, she leaned forward to meet them without any hesitation at all.
Dear Reader,
I’m always being asked where I get my characters from, and the truth is I don’t know! My characters usually just creep into my mind when I’m doing the most ordinary of things, like washing the dishes, driving to the shops or even peeling a batch of potatoes. Jonah and Nell were different. When I was writing The Good Father I became so fond of Jonah and Nell that I knew I had to tell their story. The trouble was that although Jonah was a terrific neonatal-intensive-care-unit doctor, he was also a nice, ordinary man, and nice, ordinary men don’t make good heroes, do they? And then I thought, why couldn’t a nice, ordinary man be heroic? After all, in a crisis situation, it’s often the ordinary Joe—or in this case, the ordinary Jonah—who surprises everybody. So I set out to show that Jonah had hidden depths, and, more important, to make sure that Nell finally saw them, which was trickier to achieve. I hope I succeeded. They’ve become two of my favorite people, and I hope you like them, too!
Maggie
A Consultant Claims His Bride
Maggie Kingsley
MILLS & BOON
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
SHE’D been dumped. No matter how hard Nell Sutherland stared at the email on her computer screen, she knew it wasn’t going to change. She’d been dumped. And not in person, not even in a phone call or a letter, but in a sodding email sent to her at work.
I expect you’ve realised we’ve grown apart.
Well, actually, no, I hadn’t realised that, Nell thought. In fact, it would have been kind of hard for me to know anything when I’m here in Glasgow, and you’re in New York, and for the last six months you’ve ended all your phone calls with the words ‘Love you—miss you.’
I’ve met a wonderful girl called Candy.
And what does that make me? Nell thought with a spurt of anger. You must have thought I was wonderful once, Brian, or you wouldn’t have lived with me for a year, or suggested we get engaged before you went to the States. And what sort of name was Candy? Candy was sweets, not women. Unless, of course, the woman in question was eye-candy and she’d bet her next ward manager’s pay cheque that Candy was.
‘Nell, Tommy Moffat’s blood test results are back from the lab.’
Nell minimised the email quickly, fixed a bright and perky ‘all’s right with my world’ smile to her lips, and turned to face the neonatal intensive care unit secretary.
‘Good news, or bad?’ she said, and Fiona frowned.
‘Frustrating would be a better word. Tommy doesn’t have anaemia, or any sign of an infection, so it looks like you’re back to square one.’
‘Damn,’ Nell muttered, taking the results the secretary was holding out to her. ‘Jonah was sure his failure to thrive was due to another bout of sepsis. He’s going to freak when he hears it’s not.’
Jonah would. The specialist registrar had always been a dedicated doctor but since Gabriel Dalgleish, the consultant in charge of the neonatal intensive care unit at the Belfield Infirmary, had left
