Snowkissed!: The Midwife's Marriage Proposal. Fiona Harper
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She wriggled into them, took the helmet from Tom and said her goodbyes, by which time Tom was already seated on the motorbike, his black helmet concealing his features and giving him an air of menace and danger.
Sally swallowed, suddenly realizing what she’d committed herself to. Why on earth hadn’t she just agreed when Bryony had offered to drive her home? It would have been the safe option.
But she’d never chosen the safe option in her life and Bryony had already done more than enough.
She looked at his powerful figure straddling the bike with careless ease and suddenly her body throbbed in an instinctive and totally feminine response to the macho figure he presented. But his sexual magnetism had never been in question, she reasoned, hating herself for the strength of her reaction. That was why she’d made such a fool of herself over him in her teens.
Looking at the space on the back of his bike, she felt her breath catch.
How could she have thought that riding on a bike with him would be less intimate than travelling in a car? It was so much more intimate. On a bike she would be wrapped around him, her body locked against his as it had been so many times in the past.
‘Are you coming?’ His deep voice was molten male invitation and she was suddenly thankful that the helmet concealed her expression.
‘Yes.’
Comforting herself that the journey was relatively short, she stepped up to the bike and swung her leg over, sitting as far back in the saddle as possible, trying to keep her distance.
Without speaking, he reached back and found her arms, lifting them and wrapping them around him, forcing her to draw close, to slot her body against his.
She felt the warmth and strength of him pressed against her, felt the powerful play of male muscle against hers as he steered the bike out of Oliver’s drive.
As they picked up speed she felt the familiar kick of excitement and closed her eyes, transported back in time.
It was a mistake. Like an addict who allows himself just one more taste of a dangerous substance, she felt the insidious pull of desire. A need that couldn’t be controlled by common sense. Feeling the traitorous warmth spread through her body, she wondered despairingly how it was that you could know something was bad for you and yet still want it so badly.
Other men, she told herself firmly.
There were other men out there and she was going to meet one of them …
She was so preoccupied by her own internal battle that it wasn’t until Tom approached Bryony’s cottage that she realized that she hadn’t even told him where she lived.
The bike slowed and she pulled herself back from the edge of insanity, sliding off the back of the bike before he’d even brought it to a halt.
She dragged off the helmet and handed it to him, shaking her blonde hair in an automatic gesture.
‘So how did you know where I was living?’
‘A simple matter of deduction,’ he drawled. ‘My little sister seems to have given herself the role of protector and her cottage is empty. It would be a logical decision to offer it to you.’
‘I’m finding myself somewhere of my own soon.’
He shrugged. ‘Why bother? This cottage is great and it’s not that far from the hospital.’
Because after seven years of travelling she was ready to have somewhere that was her own. Even if all she could afford was something tiny.
It would be all hers.
But she had no intention of sharing those thoughts with Tom.
‘Goodnight. Thanks for the lift.’
‘Are you going to invite me in?’ His voice was velvety dark and tempting and she stared at him like a rabbit caught in headlights, the physical pull of his presence as powerful as ever.
‘Why would I?’
‘Because, whatever you might say to the contrary,’ he drawled softly, ‘you know you want to. All evening you felt me next to you in the same way that I felt you. This thing between us hasn’t gone away, Sally.’
Her insides lurched alarmingly and she backed away a few steps. ‘What I know,’ she said coldly, ‘is that you are as arrogant as ever.’
But despite her accusation she could feel the insidious warmth spread through her veins, fuelled by the lazy, confident look in his blue eyes.
When she’d been younger, it had been one of the many things that had attracted her to him. His unshakable self-confidence, his nerve and courage in confronting the world, his total belief in his ability to conquer all. For someone as insecure as her, he’d represented security. She’d always believed that nothing would ever go wrong as long as Tom was there.
But the thing that had gone wrong had been Tom himself.
Like everyone else in her life, eventually he’d pushed her away.
‘So are you inviting me in?’ He sat easily on the bike, watching her, totally relaxed. Or was he? His blue eyes were sharp and alert and fixed on her face, reading her every reaction with lethal accuracy.
‘No, Tom. I’m not. Thanks for the lift.’ She delved in her bag for her keys and turned to walk down the path to the cottage, but his arm snaked out and strong fingers closed over her arm, preventing her escape.
‘You can deny it as much as you like, but it’s still there.’
She stood still, trapped by the strength of his fingers and the truth in his words.
It was still there.
And that made it doubly difficult to do what she had to do.
But it didn’t make it impossible.
‘Goodnight, Tom.’ With a determined effort and more willpower than she’d known she possessed, she pulled away from him for the second time that evening and walked down the path without looking back.
Tom rode the motorbike home at a pace that would have horrified his mother, but even the sudden burst of death-defying speed and power didn’t relieve the throbbing tension that had built within him during the evening.
He locked the bike away and let himself into his house, contemplating the undeniable fact that, of all the women he’d been with in his life, Sally Jenner was the only one who had ever held his attention.
But she’d wanted a level of commitment that had unsettled him.
She’d been young and mixed up. Shifted from foster-home to foster-home, searching for security and acceptance. And unconditional love. Someone who wouldn’t push her away when the going got tough.
And hadn’t he done just that?
He cursed softly, reminding himself that he’d been in an impossible situation.
Sally had been so lonely and unloved that she’d treated him like a lifeline, and he’d known that the only way she was ever going to find confidence, find her place in the world, would be if they parted company. He’d been mature enough to realize how desperate she’d been for some sort of stability in her life, and he’d been afraid that her love for him had been fuelled by a desperation for security.
And looking at her this evening, looking at that poise and confidence, he could almost convince himself that he’d done the right thing.
But then he’d felt the pulsing, throbbing tension between them, and the question came back to taunt him as it had a million times over the last seven years.
What if he hadn’t ended it?
Wondering why life was so damn complicated, Tom tugged open the fridge to retrieve another beer when he remembered that he’d already had one and it was still possible that