A Consultant Claims His Bride. Maggie Kingsley
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face. A smile he knew wasn’t meant for him but for Brian.
Lord, but he wanted her. He always had, but when he’d first come to the Belfield he’d still been getting over a disastrous relationship that had left both his heart and his ego badly bruised. He’d decided to take it slowly, not to make the same mistake again, only to watch with dismay as Nell had fallen in love with Brian Weston. Once the engagement ring was on her finger she’d been off limits as far as he was concerned, but now…
‘Nell—’
‘I was wondering whether I ought to fly out to the States,’ she interrupted. ‘Talk to him?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he said firmly. In fact, over my dead body. ‘You’re both too raw emotionally at the moment, and I’m also going to have to be rather selfish here…’ And to lie through my teeth if necessary. ‘…and point out that with Gabriel away on his honeymoon, the unit really couldn’t manage if another member of staff went on leave.’
‘No, of course not.’ She sighed, then smiled awkwardly. ‘I’m just sorry I made such a complete fool of myself last night, embarrassing you the way I did.’
‘You didn’t embarrass me,’ he declared, and she hadn’t.
When he’d seen her in all her lush, creamy glory, felt her breasts straining against him as she’d lain beneath him, it hadn’t been embarrassment he’d felt, it had been desire. A burning, overwhelming desire, and only the knowledge that she had been drunk had prevented him from tearing off the remainder of her clothes and burying himself deep inside her.
‘Like I said, it’s forgotten,’ he said lightly. ‘But what I don’t want is you going back to your flat every night and drinking yourself into oblivion.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m never doing that again. I thought I was dying when I woke up this morning.’
He laughed. ‘What you need is to get out of your flat in the evenings. Maybe go out for a meal with some friends, or perhaps just one particular friend.’
Like him.
‘But if Brian heard I was going out, he might think I didn’t love him any more,’ she protested.
Good, Jonah thought, because for the past two years I’ve been calling you ‘good old Nell’ in an attempt to desexualise you, but now your engagement is off I’m going to do whatever it takes to win you.
‘Or it could bring him to his senses, make him fly over here.’ He lied.
‘I suppose,’ she said, clearly unconvinced, then her eyes filled with tears. ‘I want him back, Jonah. I just want him back.’
And I want you, he thought, but he had no illusions about himself. He was too big, too ordinary, to be any woman’s idea of a wonderful catch, but if he let Nell’ s wounds heal for a couple of months, gave her time to realise and accept that Brian wasn’t coming back, then maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance.
‘Jonah?’
She was staring at him uncertainly and he realised he was frowning and quickly smoothed out his face.
‘It’s time you went home,’ he said. ‘You look exhausted.’
She felt it, but to go home to her empty flat…
‘I thought I might stay on for a while, catch up on some paperwork.’
‘Go home, Nell, and that’s an order,’ he said, and she gazed up at him quizzically.
‘An order?’ she said, and he smiled.
‘I can be very determined when I want to be, Nell.’
Unexpectedly so, she thought with wry amusement as he steered her out of his consulting room towards the elevators but, then again, perhaps not. She’d always suspected there were parts of Jonah she didn’t know. Parts he kept well hidden.
She knew he was a terrific friend. She also knew he was hopeless with women. Three months was the longest she’d ever known him date anybody and it wasn’t because he was a serial flirt. His relationships just seemed to peter out with no hard feelings on either side.
Maybe she should try that, she thought when she got home and a hard lump formed in her throat when she saw so many of Brian’s belongings lying where he’d left them. Dating just for fun and then moving on without regret. But how could she move on when it was still Brian she wanted?
A tear trickled down her cheek and desperately she picked up the magazine she’d bought in the newsagent’s on the way home and flicked through it, only to stop when her eyes fell on the title of an article: Tired of always being dumped by your boyfriends? Then stop being reactive!
‘And what the heck’s reactive?’ she muttered aloud, kicking off her shoes, curling up on the sofa and reading on. ‘“Proactive people make things happen. Reactive people sit back and let things happen to them.”’
Well, that was her in a nutshell. A reactive wimp, a reactive doormat. Somehow she had to become a proactive person, but how? Fiona had said last night that the girl from Radiology needed to show her ex-boyfriend she didn’t care. Even Jonah had said Brian might come back if he heard she was going out, enjoying herself.
She sat up straighter on the sofa. What if she started dating again, even just for a couple of dates? Brian had lots of friends at the Belfield and one of them would be sure to email or phone him. If he heard she was dating again, it might remind him of what they’d shared, make him jealous, get him to fly back to Glasgow. And once he was here, who knew what might happen?
Yeah, right, she thought, her optimism subsiding, and just who was she going to date? The Belfield isn’t exactly chock-a-block with single, fanciable men, plus you’d have to explain to this man that the dates weren’t real, only a means to an end.
Jonah. Jonah would do it in a minute, but Brian would never be jealous of Jonah.
‘He’s a nice enough bloke, Nell,’ Brian had said once, ‘but he’s never going to amount to anything, is he?’
It had been the one and only time they’d had a row, but having a row about Jonah wasn’t enough. She’d have to date someone he could see as a rival. Somebody handsome. Somebody who would get right under his skin. Somebody like….
Lawrence Summers.
The consultant was always asking her out, and she wouldn’ t have to tell him why she was suddenly saying yes after months of saying no because he had a hide like a rhinoceros. Admittedly, he was a groper and a creep, but she could handle him, she knew she could.
A triumphant smile curved her lips. Lawrence Summers. Lawrence Summers would be perfect.
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