CHAPTER ONE

      ‘MISS WILLIAMS? It’s Xavier Giraud. I gather from Jackie that you might still be interested in my vacancy.’

      That gorgeous dark-chocolate voice again, rich and mellow, with the slight French accent that gave it an edge of mystery. Despite her exhaustion and disillusionment, something Fran had thought was dead and buried flickered into life.

      ‘Yes—yes, that’s right,’ she replied. ‘I’d like to talk to you again about it. I’m sorry if I sound indecisive, but it’s so far from what I’ve done up to now and I do want to be sure before I make a commitment, for both our sakes.’

      ‘Of course. I understand absolutely. It’s rather a strange job—or rather, I suppose, a combination of jobs. Not many practice nurses work as nanny-cum-housekeeper as well, but don’t let me put you off, for heaven’s sake!’

      His soft chuckle tingled over her nerve endings and brought them zinging to attention.

      ‘So, when could you come and see me again?’ he went on. ‘Are you in London at the moment?’

      ‘No—no, I’m up here now for good,’ she said, fingers crossed, wondering if it was true. She’d like it to be, but she did need somewhere to live, of course, and fast. She couldn’t camp on Jackie’s floor indefinitely.

      ‘Right. So you could be available at short notice? It’s just that I’m stuck for cover for the children at the moment, and I’m having to take the afternoons off, and it’s really not fair on my colleagues.’

      There was the slightest hesitation before he added, ‘You do know, by the way, that my daughter doesn’t walk or talk, I take it? Jackie did tell you?’

      ‘She did mention it,’ Fran said guardedly. Actually, Jackie had said a great deal more when she’d told Fran about the post Xavier had asked her agency to fill, but Fran wasn’t about to repeat any of it to him. She’d wait and see for herself just how forthcoming he was about the circumstances behind his daughter’s accident.

      ‘And that’s not a problem?’

      ‘Not to me,’ she said, crossing her fingers and hoping she wasn’t being too hopelessly optimistic. ‘I assume I won’t be expected to carry her up and down stairs?’

      ‘No, of course not,’ he assured her hastily. ‘She can transfer from chair to stairlift and bed and so on without help, and she bathes and dresses herself pretty much unaided.’

      There was a pause, and she could almost hear the cogs whirring. Then he spoke again.

      ‘Look, I have an idea. I’m tied up at the moment, but I’d like to see you as soon as possible. Could you get here for the end of surgery? About elevenish? We could have a chat, and I can show you round and introduce you to the others, and then, if I can persuade someone to do my calls, I could take you to my house and show you the setup. You won’t be able to meet the children, of course, because they’re at school until four o’clock, but it would be a start. What do you think?’

      She hesitated for the merest instant, wondering how wise it was to involve herself with a widower and two motherless children, one of whom, according to Jackie, had been left with terrible, crippling injuries, not all of them physical.

      Then she thought of working as a practice nurse, a quiet, orderly existence about as far removed from her work in A and E as it was possible to get, and dismissed her hesitation. Besides, she needed somewhere to live—fast.

      ‘That would be fine, Dr Giraud. Shall I see you there at eleven o’clock?’

      ‘That would be wonderful,’ he said, and she thought she could hear relief in his voice. ‘I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Williams.’

      The line cut with a little click, and she replaced the receiver thoughtfully. Well, he seemed keen enough to see her again, and he’d come over as a very decent