as if he knew exactly what she thought of him. She flushed in embarrassment, then her mood became more combatant. Jean was right—why should she play the quiet little flower, frightened to approach him because of what he might think of her? Women didn’t have to play a passive role nowadays.
She took a deep breath and walked up to him, ignoring the lads around him.
‘Connor, I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing each other for a while. How about a dance before we go?’
Connor looked down at her lazily. ‘Ah, Freckles…the last goodbye, eh?’ He glanced around at his friends. ‘Quite an honour to be asked to dance by the head girl, isn’t it?’ Then he lowered his voice slightly, his blue eyes dancing with laughter. ‘It’s been sparky competition between us for the last two years, Vic—I’ll miss it.’
Victoria stood for a second, waiting for him to accept her invitation, and the little crowd around him watched them both with interest. Connor grinned at her, then nodded his head towards his friends. ‘Sorry, darlin’—can’t keep the lads waiting. We’re off for a few beers before the pubs close, so the dance routine will have to wait for now. Some other time, eh?’
A ripple of laughter went round the boys and Connor lifted a careless hand to her and strolled out of the room, followed by his sniggering cohorts, leaving Victoria standing alone. She stared after them, her cheeks burning and a horrible suspicion of hot tears of humiliation in her eyes. It was as if she had been slapped in the face. How dared he embarrass her like that in front of everyone—how could he be so cruel?
In a second Jean was at her side, her arm round Victoria’s shoulders. ‘What a rat!’ she whispered. ‘Take no notice of him—that was all done to show off to that bunch of morons around him. Forget it ever happened.’
Victoria drew herself up with dignity, trying to disguise her bitter feeling of rejection, hardly able to believe that someone she’d thought had admired her, even though he might not have fancied her, could have snubbed her so publicly. Then that steely stubbornness of spirit that had rescued her so many times before when competing with Connor came to her rescue.
She turned with a bright smile to Jean, lifted her chin and said lightly, ‘Manners maketh man… You’re quite right, Jean. Connor Saunders is a complete rat and I don’t care if I never see him again in my life.’
His tall figure disappeared out of the door, and despite her feisty words Victoria felt a hollow sense of betrayal. She’d been made a figure of fun—the girl who’d dared to ask Connor Saunders for a dance and been turned down for a few pints of beer! That was it, then. She would never think of the man again—from now on it was if he had never existed!
CHAPTER ONE
‘VICTORIA CURTIS to see Dr Saunders, please.’
The receptionist looked over the counter at the tall girl with glossy auburn hair facing her, then peered at the screen of her computer, frowning slightly.
‘You don’t seem to have an appointment to see him. I’m afraid he’s absolutely booked up this afternoon unless it’s very urgent.’
Victoria smiled. ‘But I’m not a patient—I’m joining the practice. I’m a doctor and he’s expecting me.’
The receptionist’s plump face looked startled. ‘Oh. I’m sorry—I didn’t realise there were two of you. Dr Saunders didn’t mention anything.’
‘Two of us?’ questioned Victoria, puzzled. She had come to help her mother because Dr Saunders, the senior partner, was retiring and now she was here to go over some practice details, and her mother was joining them later. She wasn’t aware that anyone else would be needed in the practice.
‘I’ve probably got my wires crossed,’ said the woman, smiling. ‘I’ll tell him you’re here…’ She pressed a switch. ‘I’ve a Dr Curtis here to see you, Dr Saunders…’
‘Ah—I’ll be ready in one minute, if she could just take a seat in Reception,’ said a deep male voice.
Morning surgery was evidently finished and Victoria sat waiting for him alone, sipping a cup of coffee that the receptionist brought for her. She looked around the room and smiled. It hadn’t changed over the years—rather tatty-looking decor and a faded busily patterned carpet. Perhaps now she was going to be part of the practice, she could tactfully persuade her mother that the place needed a make-over.
She was sure her mother would be relieved that John Saunders was retiring. Victoria remembered him as an opinionated man, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance…very like his son, she thought suddenly. A picture flashed into her mind of the farewell sixth form dance all those years ago and the way Connor had made a fool of her. She hadn’t thought about that episode for a long time, but she was surprised at how vividly the memory of her humiliation at his hands came flooding back to her—how it had shaken her confidence in herself for a long time.
Then she gave an inward shrug. No good thinking about that now. So much had happened to her in the intervening years, much worse than the teenage angst she’d suffered because of Connor. She’d been through a rough patch in the past year, but now for the first time in many months she felt excited and optimistic about the future—and it was lovely to be back in the beautiful Yorkshire Dales.
A few years ago she’d made a new life for herself in Australia, full of hopes and dreams that had been dashed, and the irony was that now she’d returned to Braithwaite again and put the fast-paced life she’d enjoyed in Sydney behind her to kick-start her life again.
‘Dr Saunders asks if you’d go through to him now,’ said the receptionist, breaking into her thoughts. ‘It’s the room at the end of the corridor.’
Victoria made her way to the room, tapped at the door and walked in. A man was standing by the window against the light, and it was only as he strode forward to meet her that Victoria realised with a shock that it wasn’t John Saunders at all. She gazed in astonishment at the broad-shouldered man who stood in front of her, looking as if he did a marathon workout daily in the gym, his body a sinewy combination of muscle and power, thick tousled fair hair flipping over blue eyes. It took her a second or two to recognise that he was Connor Saunders—no longer the lanky schoolboy she’d last seen at the leaving ball but a mature, eye-catching man with a commanding presence.
She drew in her breath, astonished at the coincidence that she’d only been thinking about him a few seconds before, the man who’d once humiliated her so cruelly in front of her friends. And like the automatic response of so long ago, for a split second she felt the faintest shiver of attraction flutter through her—an echo of what she had felt for him when they’d been teenagers.
‘Wh-what on earth are you doing here?’ she stuttered. ‘I was expecting to see your father.’
There was surprise as well in the blue eyes that swept over her appraisingly, then Connor grinned. ‘Well, well, well, I didn’t realise that Freckles Sorensen had become Dr Curtis! We meet again after how many years?’
He held out his hand and shook hers. Victoria pulled herself together and removed her hand from his firm grip. She must have imagined that feeling of attraction a second ago—he was just an ordinary man who’d once been rude to her.
‘Nobody calls me Freckles now,’ she said coldly. ‘Have you come back here for a holiday?’
‘I’ve left the practice I was with in Glasgow and come to take over
