Read Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby Online

Authors: Anne Fraser / Lynne Marshall

Tags: #Medical

Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby (13 page)

Jonathan held her tightly. She could smell his aftershave and feel the hard muscles of his chest against her head. An image of his bare chest, tanned, defined muscles made her want to groan out loud. Who would have ever suspected he had a body like that? All that polo playing must help. She pushed the thought of heavily muscled thighs away before she became any more flustered.

She looked into his eyes. He looked back and her world tipped. Damn the man. Damn everything. Why did she have to go and fall for him? And why did she have to be facing an uncertain future? Why? Why? Why?

‘You are the most beautiful woman in the room tonight and the most remarkable,’ Jonathan whispered into her hair.

All at once, Rose had had enough. If Jonathan thought he could play games with her he had another think coming. No matter how she felt about him.
Particularly
because of how she felt about him.

She pulled away from him so she could see his face. ‘What do you want from me, Jonathan?’ she asked.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked as he whirled around the dance floor.

‘I’m not the woman for you, believe me.’

He frowned. ‘Don’t you think I should be the judge of that? Believe me, Rose Taylor. You’re exactly the woman for me.’ He paused by a door leading outside and pulled her into the fresh evening air. The scent of climbing roses drifted up her nostrils, intoxicating her.

Jonathan’s finger stroked her hair away from her face. ‘I don’t think you have any idea just how lovely you are.’ He smiled. ‘But it’s not just the way you look, you’re a very special woman, Rose. Don’t you know that? I can’t believe that no one has won your heart yet.’ He frowned and a shadow passed across his face. ‘Or has someone? Of course. What an idiot I’ve been. There’s bound to be someone back in Edinburgh, waiting for you. God, do you love him? Would you dump him? Come out with me instead?’ His smile was warm and tender. ‘I promise you, you won’t regret it.’

Rose’s head was swirling. There was nothing she
wanted more right now than to tell him that there was no one else and, yes, she would go out with him. Every day for the rest of her life. However long that would be. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to her or to him. All at once she knew he was falling in love with her and it made her heart soar, but she also knew she already cared too much to deny him the happy-ever-after ending he deserved.

‘There’s no future for us,’ she said bleakly.

‘So there is someone else.’

Rose hesitated. It would be easier to let him believe that. But she wasn’t going to lie to him. Even if she couldn’t tell him the truth.

‘No, there isn’t anyone.’

‘In that case, I’m not going to take no for an answer. I owe you a date. And a date is what we’re going to go on. Like it or not.’ Although he smiled, Rose sensed the determination behind his words. And even though she knew she should avoid him, for his sake if not hers, she couldn’t resist the temptation. Another memory. A few more moments with Jonathan to store away like a squirrel.

‘Okay, then. If you insist, I’ll go out with you. I guess it’s not really a date anyway.’ She tried to sound casual.

‘Not really a date,’ Jonathan muttered under his breath. ‘If I insist? Well, I do insist. So that’s sorted. This weekend. I’ll let you know when and where later.’

Back at his flat, Jonathan prowled around restlessly. What was it about Rose that had got under his skin? Okay, so she was beautiful, but God knew he had dated beautiful women before. Even a supermodel. No, it wasn’t that. It was her. That dogged air of determination mixed with an underlying vulnerability and genuineness that he had never come
across before. She wasn’t the least bit interested in his title or his wealth. She wasn’t bowled over by him the way most women were. In fact, she gave the distinct impression she was unimpressed by him, almost disapproving.

That probably hit the nail on the head. She probably thought he didn’t have a serious, committed bone in his body. And what was wrong with that? Wasn’t it important to have fun in life? There would be plenty time for settling down in the future. A shiver of revulsion ran through him. The words ‘settling down’ and ‘Jonathan Cavendish’ didn’t really go in the same sentence. Hell, he just had to look at his father and his serial marriages to know what a waste of time getting married was. He had a damn cheek to accuse him of a lack of commitment and responsibility. Look at the way he had treated his mother. She had hardly been cold before he had taken up with some one new. What kind of recommendation for married life was that?

But Rose was different. He suspected when she gave her heart, it would be for keeps. And the man she gave it to would have to be deserving. She was a challenge. That was it. That was the true reason he was attracted to her. Never before had he been turned down by a woman and it wasn’t going to happen now. He would take her on the kind of date that she would like. Something that would convince her that he saw her for who she was and not just another woman. It was obvious that parties on yachts weren’t for her. What did she say she liked? Being outdoors. Long walks, sitting in with a book when it was raining outside. Playing her guitar. What else? Picnicking.

He had gone about trying to impress her the wrong way. When they went for their date, he would show her he was sensitive and thoughtful and that he didn’t need wild parties
or crowds of people. He sat down on a chair by the window and looked out at the lights of London below. An idea was beginning to form in his head. He thought he knew exactly where to take her. Somewhere she would get to know the real Jonathan Cavendish.

Chapter Eight

J
ONATHAN
collected Rose, as promised, on Saturday morning. He came in and spent a few minutes making small talk with her parents, accepting a cup of coffee from Rose’s mother and engaging her father in a dissection of the latest football results.

‘Just let me know when you fancy going to another match. I can always get tickets.’ He paused. ‘I don’t suppose you’re a cricket fan, are you? I’ve a couple of tickets for Lords next weekend.’

Rose suppressed a groan. If anything, her father preferred cricket to football. If the two of them started talking cricket, goodness knew when it would stop. She was delighted in her father’s improvement. Managing at the football match had given him a lift. Every day he was more like the man he had been before the stroke and for that alone she could have kissed Jonathan.

‘Now, you two. That’s enough talk about cricket. Shouldn’t you and Rose be getting on your way?’ Rose’s mother stepped in.

Jonathan rose to his feet. ‘You know my flat actually overlooks Lords. Why don’t you come to lunch the next time there’s a match on? We get a great view from the drawing-room window.’

Rose’s father slid a glance at his daughter. She knew he would love to go, but didn’t want to agree without knowing how his daughter felt about it.

‘It’s up to you, Dad,’ she said. But she gave him a small shake of her head. She really didn’t want to be any more beholden to Jonathan than they already were. Despite her best intentions, they were being drawn increasingly into Jonathan’s life, and she had to remember that no good could come of it.

‘One day perhaps, son,’ Rose’s father answered.

‘Any time, at all. Just let Rose know.’ Jonathan jumped to his feet. ‘I’ll have your daughter back before it gets too late.’

She was back in a time warp. Get her home before it gets too late indeed. Who did he think she was? Cinderella?

‘Don’t wait up, Mum, Dad. It’s just possible I’ll go the pub and catch up with the gang when we get back.’ Put that in your pipe and smoke it, she thought, pleased that she had made the point. She would decide when she came home. Not him.

‘Where are we going?’ Rose asked as they sped up the motorway, heading north. She hadn’t known what to wear. He could be taking her anywhere, another party, lunch with some of his friends, anywhere. Not knowing, she had decided on a simple summer dress, hoping that it would see her through most eventualities. Her glasses were back in place as, try as she would, she still didn’t quite have the hang of the contact lenses. But at least with her glasses she could see, and with her hair tied back in its usual plait, she felt collected and in control.

‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ Jonathan said obliquely. ‘I had the damnedest time trying to decide where to take you, but I hope I’ve got it right.’

‘As long as I’m appropriately dressed, I don’t care.’

‘You would be appropriately dressed even if you wore a sack,’ Jonathan replied.

Huh. More of his empty compliments. If she wore a sack, she would look like a bag lady. Who was he trying to kid? On the other hand, Jonathan would look perfectly at home where ever they went. Even in the faded jeans and open-necked, short-sleeved shirt he was wearing. A lock of hair flopped across his forehead and he kept brushing it away as he drove.

After an hour he turned off the motorway and onto a road bordered by fields which, in turn, gave way to a smattering of houses. A sign welcomed them to Cambridge.

‘I don’t know if this was the right place to take you,’ he said. ‘But I thought we could hire a punt and stop along the bank for a picnic. I used to do that regularly when I was a student here and I know just the place where we can tie up the boat.’

He looks nervous, Rose thought, her heart melting. She liked this more vulnerable side to him.

‘Just as well it’s not bucketing with rain, then.’ She smiled to let him know she was teasing. ‘Isn’t this pretty close to where you live?’

‘Yes. Cavendish House is just over half an hour to the west. And don’t worry, if it had rained, I would have come up with another plan.’

‘And the picnic? Did you make it yourself?’

He shook his head, looking sheepish. ‘I had it delivered from Harrods.’ Then they both laughed. ‘Sorry, I guess old habits die hard. But, honestly, Rose, I don’t think you would have found anything I made edible.’

He parked the car close to the river, near the town centre.
Rose was curious. She knew little about Cambridge other than that it was a famous university town and people punted on the river. ‘Show me the college you went to,’ she said. She really wanted to know more about him.

He looked perplexed. ‘Are you sure you’re interested? They all look pretty much the same really.’

‘Not to me they don’t. I’d love to see where Newton, Darwin and Wordsworth lived and worked. And all the others. Go on. Indulge me.’

He bowed from the waist. ‘Your wish is my command. Come on, then. I went to Trinity. In fact, we can hire a punt from there. It’s in the main street. Let’s see if the porters remember me. They might even let me have a look at the room I was in.’ He looked pleased, Rose thought. As if he wasn’t used to anyone taking an interest.

He took her by the hand and led her down streets, past several modern buildings and ancient colleges. Rose kept swivelling her head to look at buildings, a round church, a medieval house, but Jonathan propelled her on.

‘I want to show you the Bridge of Sighs first,’ he said. He was like an excited schoolboy and Rose warmed to this new side of him. He was constantly challenging her preconceptions of him.

‘It connects the older part of St John’s College to the newer part.’ He pulled her through heavy wooden gates, past the porter’s lodge and into a courtyard. Rose stopped in her tracks. Elegant buildings with intricate stained-glass windows looked down from every side. Students scurried about chatting, books under their arms, oblivious to their surroundings.

‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘I think if I came here to study I’d never get any work done. I’d just want to sit and take in my surroundings.’

Jonathan looked at her strangely. ‘I suppose it is magnificent,’ he said. ‘I guess I stopped seeing it after a while.’ His mouth turned up at the corners in the way that always made her knees go weak. ‘I love seeing it all through your eyes. It’s like I never really saw it before.’

Rose’s heart squeezed. Why did he keep saying those things? Making her believe he could love her?

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It gets better.’ He led her through another archway that led onto a covered bridge. The stone bridge was intricately carved. Someone must have spent years working on it. Her father would love to see it, as only one artisan could really appreciate the work of another.

‘I can see why it’s called the Bridge of Sighs,’ Rose said. ‘It’s so beautiful, you just want to sigh with pleasure when you see it.’

‘It’s named after the Bridge of Sighs in Venice,’ Jonathan told her. ‘People think it’s a copy but, apart from the romanticism of the two bridges, all they have in common is that they are both covered.’

‘Hey, don’t spoil it for me. Imagine being able to do that.’ Rose half smiled. ‘I love that so I’ll have one built just like it where I live.’ She turned to Jonathan. ‘That’s the kind of world you live in,’ she said softly. ‘Where money and position makes anything possible.’

‘You don’t approve?’

‘I don’t approve or disapprove. I just can’t imagine ever being in that position.’ And that was the truth. Her world and Jonathan’s were miles apart. They could have come from different planets for all they had in common.

‘We’re not so different, really, you and I, Rose.’ Jonathan lifted his hand and tipped her chin until she was looking directly in his eyes.

Strange feelings were fizzing around inside Rose, making her breathless. What was he doing? Was he
trying
to make her fall in love with him? Didn’t he know he had already succeeded? She pulled away, putting distance between them. If she stayed near him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from winding her arms around his neck.

‘So where’s the college you went to? What did you say it was called?’

‘Trinity. We can get to it this way.’ He took her hand again and led her towards a building covered in what looked like ivy, but which was what Jonathan told her was Virginia creeper. He pointed upwards. ‘My last room was up there. It had a view of the river. Come and see the chapel.’

The chapel was breathtaking with its high arched ceilings and stained-glass windows. Pews lined either side, with a candle at each seat. Rose could imagine evening service, especially in the winter with the snow lying thickly outside and the music of the choir in the soft candlelight. She could appreciate the history in every stone, every worn flagstone and see, in her mind’s eye, the centuries of scholars who had walked down the aisle before her.

‘Seen enough?’ Jonathan said quietly. He had been standing behind her, watching her closely.

She nodded. The more she knew about Jonathan the more she knew how much she wished things could have been different. The Jonathan she was learning about was someone she could imagine a future with. If she had one. The knowledge that soon she would be leaving, probably never to see him again, was tearing her up inside.

‘If you want to look around some more, I’ll just get the picnic from the car. When you’ve seen enough, wait for me down by the river. I’ll only be a few minutes.’

Rose wandered around, torn up inside. In this chapel she could let herself hope that somehow everything would work out fine and that some kind of miracle would happen, freeing her from the threat of death hanging over her, giving her back her future. But she couldn’t let herself think like that. Even if this thing inside her head never changed, even if she lived a long time, she still couldn’t ever risk having children.

Pain lanced through her. She would have loved babies. Two, maybe three. Why did life have to be so unfair? She shook her head, angrily brushing away the tears that stung her eyes. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself. She had to stay positive. Back in Edinburgh she had a job she loved, many friends and her music. It was entirely possible that she would have many years in front of her to enjoy life. That would have to be enough. She would
make
it enough. Even if it was to be a life without children—or Jonathan.

By the time she made her way down to the river bank, she had managed to get her emotions back under control and when Jonathan appeared with the picnic basket, she laughed. Grief, how many did he think he was catering for? She couldn’t help but look past him, half expecting a stream of his friends to be following close behind. But, no, it seemed as if it really was just the two of them.

‘What on earth have you got in there? A kitchen sink? The kitchen?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s damned heavy. They kept on asking me what I wanted and I didn’t have a clue, so I said yes to everything. They did say there was wine, plates, a tablecloth. For all I know, they’ve stuck a set of tables and chairs in there while they were at it.’

‘As long as the weight doesn’t sink us.’

‘Nope, we should be fine.’ He lugged the basket down to the bank of the river. After a few words with the person hiring out the punts Jonathan jumped into one and set the basket down. He then helped Rose into the boat. She was delighted to find that her seat was padded and comfortable. She sat back, trailing her hand in the water as Jonathan balanced on the other end of the punt, using the long pole to push away from the side of the river.

Rose closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face and allowing the gentle splash of water as Jonathan pushed them along to soothe her. They passed under overhanging trees of willows, their long branches reaching into the river. Rose was pleasantly surprised. This was exactly the kind of day out she loved. Jonathan had got it exactly right. It seemed she was always having to reassess her opinion of him. And the more she found out about him, the deeper she fell in love. Her heart contracted with the pain of it. How was she going to find the strength to leave him when the time came? She pushed the thought away, not wanting to spoil another moment of whatever time she had left with him.

‘Aren’t you going to serenade me?’ she asked, looking at him through slitted eyes. ‘Isn’t that a necessary part of the deal?’

‘You obviously haven’t heard me sing, or you wouldn’t be suggesting it.’ He grinned back. ‘But you can sing well enough for both of us.’

She shook her head sleepily. ‘I can’t sing without my guitar. Don’t know why. Maybe it’s because it gives me something to hide behind.’

As soon as the words were out, she could have bitten her tongue.

Jonathan looked at her curiously. ‘Why would you want to hide? Do you truly not know how beautiful you are?’

Rose snorted. ‘Nice try, Jonathan, but save the compliments for someone who believes them.’

‘Has anyone ever told you that you are the most exasperating woman? Or that when someone gives you a compliment, a sincere compliment, you should accept it with good grace?’

‘In which case, thank you, kind sir. And has anyone ever told you that you have a fine punting action?’

Jonathan laughed and passed a hand across his forehead. ‘It’s much warmer than I thought it would be. Would you mind if I took my shirt off?’

Ever the gentleman. All the men of Rose’s acquaintance would have removed their shirts whenever they felt like it. But as Jonathan shrugged out of his, she bit down on her lip. Maybe she should have insisted he keep it on. Now she was going to have to keep her eyes averted from his chest lest he read some of the thoughts that were going through her head. She smiled. A man like Jonathan probably had a very good idea of was going through her mind.

‘Would you like to try?’ he asked. ‘It’s really very easy.’

‘Sure,’ Rose said.

‘Okay, come over to where I am.’

Rose picked her way to the stern of the boat, where Jonathan was standing. As she came alongside him, the boat wobbled. In a flash Jonathan wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. A tingling sensation started in her waist and was soon fizzing around her body. Just for a second she let herself breath in heady scent of his aftershave mixed with the masculine smell of his sweat. Then he released her gently.

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