Her ex-husband’s back in her life...

Can she let him back in her heart?

Emergency nurse Rachel Walker’s astounded when Dr. Dominic Hadley walks into her hospital. She hasn’t seen him since the tragic breakdown of their shotgun marriage, and she’s not remotely prepared for the electrifying jolt to her heart! Brooding Dominic has an edge Rachel doesn’t recognize, but her body remembers his touch... Bonded inextricably by their past, could it be enough to build a future?

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered ‘swimming’—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

Also by Carol Marinelli

Playboy on Her Christmas List

Their Secret Royal Baby

Their One Night Baby

The Midwife’s One-Night Fling

The Sicilian’s Surprise Love-Child

Secret Prince’s Christmas Seduction

Ruthless Royal Sheikhs miniseries

Captive for the Sheikh’s Pleasure

Christmas Bride for the Sheikh

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Nurse’s Reunion Wish

Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90239-1

THE NURSE’S REUNION WISH

© 2020 Carol Marinelli

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Note to Readers

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

 Change of font size and line height

 Change of background and font colours

 Change of font

 Change justification

 Text to speech

For Hannah and Ben

Love you guys

Carol xxxx

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

SOME WOULD SAY that Rachel Walker had a superpower.

She was an emergency nurse, slight of build, and looked younger than her thirty-two years, which wasn’t much of an advantage. With her fiery red hair and porcelain skin it might be expected that she would blush easily. But Rachel’s pale skin rarely flushed. As well as that, her huge green eyes revealed little of her thoughts even as she held someone’s gaze.

And while that might not sound like much of a superpower, when a patient was critically ill and terrified, or revealing his innermost troubles, it rather helped that the emergency nurse remained outwardly calm and seemingly unfazed.

Rachel had long ago learnt to hide her deepest feelings.

Growing up in Sheffield, in a loud, happy family, with gregarious parents and four older brothers, she had found it necessary, from an early age, to retain a neutral expression and not let anyone reap the effects of their persistent, albeit good-natured, teasing.

But then, aged six, Rachel had come home from school to a house full of aunts and uncles, neighbours and family friends and found out that her mother had suddenly died. The teasing had stopped and the laughter had faded from the Walker home, and the little girl had quickly discovered that her dad and her brothers could not deal with her grief and tears.

‘Take her to the park,’ Dad would say when she cried for her mum.

Rachel had duly been taken to the park and pushed on a swing, or spun on a roundabout, or bumped up and down on a seesaw until her brothers had been satisfied that she’d return home smiling, at least for a little while.

The tears would soon start again, of course.

Especially at night, when she’d missed her mum tucking her up in bed and reading her bedtime stories, or when she would wake from a dream calling out for her.

‘Come on now, Rachel,’ her dad would tell her. ‘You’re upsetting our Phil with your carry-on.’

When she’d cried one day at school, and they’d had to call her dad to come from work to pick her up again, she’d known her tears were causing real problems. Her dad owned his own removal company and, as he’d explained that afternoon, people relied on him to get the job done.

‘It’s their moving day, Rachel,’ he said as she sat in the front of his lorry. ‘If I have to be called away, who’s going to move them into their new house? And what about the family that are waiting to move in to theirs? You’ve got them thinking they’ll have nowhere to sleep tonight. Now, stop with them tears and be a good girl.’

Then one day it had been ‘our Phil’ himself who had warned her. ‘Enough now, Rachel! Dad doesn’t need to hear it. He’s upset enough and missing Mum too. You’re just making things worse.’

Finally Rachel had stopped with the tears and the questions about her mum. Her emotions hadn’t stopped, of course—she’d just learnt to hide them.

This superpower she now possessed hadn’t done much for her relationships, but on this cold February morning, in the Emergency Department of London’s Primary Hospital, even though Rachel had only worked there for a week, her particular skill had been recognised.

She had been assigned to the minor injuries unit and was helping a young man with crutches when the intercom buzzed and she heard her name being called by May, the unit manager.

‘Excuse me a moment,’ Rachel said. But, reluctant to leave the man wobbling, she just went and stood by the curtains, so she could keep an eye on him as she answered the call.

‘Yes?’

‘Can I ask you to come down to Resus?’

‘Sure,’ Rachel said. ‘I’ll just—’

‘Immediately.’

As May summoned her, the chimes went off and the request for an anaesthetist to go to the ED went out.

Rachel called over her shoulder to a colleague to come and take over with the young man. Then she made her way through the department, via Reception and the central waiting room, which was particularly full, and through to the main section of the unit, where she could see May standing outside the resuscitation area looking in.

Rachel liked her new unit manager. She was caring in the way of a mother hen, but also wise and sharp.

May gestured for Rachel to stand with her and observe as she told her about the patient. ‘Thomas Jennings, eighteen-month-old with query epiglottitis, just arrived in the department. Mother drove him here...thought he had croup.’

Even from this distance Rachel could see that Thomas was a very sick little boy indeed. He sat on his mother’s knee, leaning forward and drooling, his breathing noisy and laboured. She could hear the stridor—a high-pitched wheezing—from outside the room.

‘Where is everyone?’ Rachel asked, because she could only see Tara, a fellow RN, in there.

‘Jordan the paediatrician is here,’ May explained. ‘He’s on the phone, out of earshot of Mum, trying to get hold of an anaesthetist. But the on-call team are up on ITU and the second team is in Theatre.’

Sure enough, as soon as May said that the chimes went off again, summoning an anaesthetist to the resuscitation area of the ED.

Epiglottitis could quickly turn life-threatening. It was an inflammation of the flap of cartilage and mucous membrane at the back of the throat that guarded the windpipe. Thanks to immunisation, it was now rarely seen. Still, at any moment little Thomas’s airway could become obstructed—hence the need for an anaesthetist to be present.

‘Mum’s getting upset that we’re not doing anything and Tara’s getting a bit flustered,’ May explained, and then glanced at Rachel, who stood there unruffled, taking it all in.

She must have looked so calm that May felt she had to double-check that she understood the precariousness of the situation.

‘You do know how quickly a patient with epiglottitis can deteriorate?’

‘Yes, May,’ Rachel answered calmly. ‘Has everything been set up for a tracheostomy?’

‘That’s why I called for you to come down,’ May admitted. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I’m staying back, so as not to distress the little man with too many people around him, but I’ll be hovering should you need me.’

‘Thanks,’ Rachel said, glad to know that May was near as she walked into the room.

‘Morning.’ Rachel smiled at both Tara and the mother, but she didn’t fuss over the little boy.

His blond hair was dark with sweat and plastered to his head, and he buried his face in his mum’s chest at the sight of a new arrival.

The monitors were all turned up and bleeping loudly. Rachel turned the volume down—given all the staff who were close by—doing what she could to make the surroundings less scary.

‘He’s never been in hospital before,’ Mrs Jennings said.

‘It’s very overwhelming.’ Rachel nodded. ‘But you’re doing great. I know it looks as if we’re not doing much, but the most important thing right now is to keep Thomas from getting upset.’

‘Where’s the anaesthetist?’ Mrs Jennings asked, her voice rising in panic.

‘On the way,’ Rachel said, privately hoping that was the case.

Tara spoke then. ‘I was just explaining to Mum that if we can get a couple of local anaesthetic patches onto Thomas it would be a great help when we cannulate him.’

‘Good idea—but perhaps Mum could do it,’ Rachel suggested, and then looked over to Mrs Jennings. ‘I’ll show you how.’

There probably wouldn’t be time for the cream to take effect before he was cannulated, but hopefully it would save him a little pain and distress, which was the main goal here.

Thomas didn’t flinch as his mother copied Rachel’s instructions and the patches were applied, which concerned Rachel greatly.

She glanced over to Tara. ‘Has everything been set up for the transfer?’

‘I was just about to do that,’ Tara said.

Thomas had only been in the department for ten minutes, but things had to be moved along speedily, as the situation could change at any minute. And it was starting to. He was becoming increasingly exhausted, and Rachel knew she had to get everything they might possibly need on a trolley as quickly as possible.

‘I’m going to get things ready for Thomas’s transfer,’ Rachel said to the mum, ‘but I’ll be right here.’

All seemed calm.

All was not.

Outside the room there was a flurry of activity taking place. The paediatrician was alerting the operating theatre, and the anaesthetist, who had just arrived in the hospital and collected his pager, was sprinting down the long corridor towards the ED. Rachel was preparing the trolley, and outside May was calling Security to clear the corridor and hold the lifts while the transfer was made.

It was imperative that the little boy did not become distressed, so the staff were hands-off, leaving it to his mother to comfort him as they hovered discreetly and prepared for the worst.

Rachel started to collect the equipment they would need for the transfer while keeping an eye on Thomas. She glanced out and saw Jordan on the phone, running a worried hand through his hair, but he plastered on a smile when he returned from his call and gave Rachel a nod, then made small talk with Mrs Jennings about his own three children while keeping a very close eye on Thomas.

‘There’s Nicholas, who is Thomas’s age,’ Jordan said, ‘and the twins are three—’

His words halted as the doors slid open.

‘Ah, the anaesthetist is here, Mrs Jennings. This is Dr Hadley.’

Hadley?

Rachel glanced over towards the doors at the sound of the familiar name. And the world as she knew it changed as Dominic Hadley stepped in.

Rachel quickly turned back to the trolley she was preparing, drawing in a deep breath when she suddenly felt giddy.

Dominic Hadley worked at The Primary?

Dominic was a doctor?

An anaesthetist?

How?

When?

Though his voice was slightly breathless from running, it was a deeper and more assured voice than the one she had known. As he spoke with Jordan, Rachel screwed her eyes tightly shut, for she did not know how to face him. How to turn around and deal with this situation?

Because it really was a situation.

Dominic Hadley had hurt her badly.

So badly that it had taken her more than a decade to recover her heart enough to try to love again.

So badly that as she stood there anger, hurt and recrimination fought for first place in the order of her feelings.

But she could not think of that here, so she focused on the soft bleeps of Thomas’s monitors and forced the surge of animosity within her to settle. She wondered about Dominic’s reaction when he saw her.

Dominic had not a clue.

Yet.

‘I’m just going to let Richard know,’ Dominic told Jordan. ‘Though I’m not sure if he’s in ye—’

His voice halted as a flash of red hair caught his eye and he couldn’t help but check the profile of the nurse who was preparing to transfer Thomas up to Theatre.

It happened every now and then—a glimpse of red hair would make him turn his head, or the sound of laughter in a bar would have him scanning the crowd—but then he would remind himself that there hadn’t been much laughter at the end of their relationship.

But it couldn’t be Rachel, Dominic thought, and dismissed her from his mind as Jordan continued to bring him up to speed.

‘Mrs Jennings understands that we won’t examine Thomas until we’re safely in Theatre, and she’s consented to a tracheostomy, should it be necessary.’

Dominic looked over to the anxious woman, who was doing all she could to hold it together for the sake of her son.

‘Hello, I’m Dominic Hadley—the anaesthetic registrar.’ He gave her a smile, but noted that the little boy whimpered at the rather imposing sight of him so halted his approach. He stood a couple of inches over six foot and, sharply dressed in a navy suit, he was aware he might look rather imposing, so he sat down on the resuscitation bed a little further away from Thomas. ‘What would you like me to call you?’ he asked.

‘Please,’ Mrs Jennings said, ‘call me Haylee.’

‘And do you understand what’s happening, Haylee?’

She gave a helpless shrug. ‘Not really. The children’s doctor said he might need to be put on a breathing machine, and an airway made in his neck...’

‘It’s called a tracheostomy.’ Dominic nodded.

Time was of the essence, but so was explanation. He drew a rudimentary picture of a throat on the pad he carried in his pocket.

‘The epiglottis is a flap of tissue at the back of the throat. If that swells so much that we can’t get a tube past it, then an incision would need to be made here.’ He pointed to the picture he’d drawn and then to the same spot on his own throat. ‘That way we can bypass the swelling.’

‘But he might not have to have one?’

‘We won’t know till we look at Thomas’s throat. I’d prefer to do that in Theatre, where we can examine him properly and get treatment underway. I’ll attempt to secure his airway, though a tracheostomy might well be the only course available to us.’

Haylee looked down at the picture and then to her son, who was working very hard to breathe.

Dominic was deeply concerned and he would feel a lot better if they were in Theatre. ‘Thomas really needs antibiotics and IV fluids,’ he said. ‘But putting in a cannula is only going to upset him, so the very best thing we can do is get him up to Theatre and take care of everything there.’

‘I understand that,’ said Haylee Jennings as she cuddled her son.

‘Have you got anyone here with you?’

‘My husband’s on his way.’

‘Good,’ Dominic said. ‘I’m just going to let my senior know what’s happening and...’

He glanced up to let the nurse know they’d be heading up to Theatre imminently, and it was then that Dominic realised he hadn’t been wrong at all.

The nurse was Rachel.

It helped, as an anaesthetist, to have nerves of steel. For Dominic, it was an acquired trait. Some called him arrogant, but those nerves of steel were invaluable now that he was faced with this unlikely situation.

Dominic looked through Rachel, rather than at her.

In fact, Dominic barely blinked.

‘We’ll head up shortly,’ he informed her. ‘I’m going to make a quick call first.’

‘Ready when you are,’ Rachel replied, in a voice that was both measured and calm.

Yes, a superpower indeed!

As Dominic Hadley selected some drugs and syringes from the cart and stalked off, there was a moment when Rachel wondered if he’d even recognised her.

After all, she’d barely recognised him!

There was little about this polished, suave man who commanded the room that compared with the awkward physics geek she had fallen in love with.

Although his thick black hair was the same, still damp from his morning shower, and the soapy male scent of him was familiar. His dark eyes were the same gorgeous velvet brown as they had always been too. He had always towered above her, but he seemed taller now, if that were possible. And he had definitely broadened out, and looked immaculate in his sharp navy suit, pale blue shirt and lilac tie.

Her dad, if he were here, would probably say it was pink...

What sort of man wears a pink tie? Rachel could almost hear her father’s thick Yorkshire accent.

With the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, Dominic pulled up the drugs he might need, should there be an emergency en route, as he let his boss know the situation.

‘Any history?’ asked Richard Lewis, the consultant anaesthetist.

‘Unvaccinated.’ Dominic clipped back his response. But his voice faltered as he glanced over to Resus, where Rachel still stood. There was a whole lot of history right there...

‘Healthy little boy until this morning, nil allergies...’ He went through the case, and it was agreed that Richard, who was currently on ITU, would meet him up in Theatre.

‘We’re heading straight up,’ Dominic told May as he replaced the phone.

‘They’re ready for you. Rachel will come up to Theatre with you.’

Dominic felt as if his heart might pump its way up to his throat and wondered if it would be better to object to Rachel escorting him.

‘She’s new. I need someone who knows what they’re doing.’

‘Which is why I’m sending Rachel. She might be new but she’s worked in Paediatric Emergency up in Sheffield and is very competent.’

‘Fine.’ He walked over to the cooler and filled a little plastic cup with water, drained it, filled it again, drained it again, and told himself to remove Rachel from his mind entirely. He headed back in, determined to ignore the fact that Rachel had just dropped back into his life.

For now.

‘We’re going to get Thomas up to Theatre now,’ Dominic informed Haylee. ‘We’ll put you in a wheelchair, with Thomas on your knee, but if there’s an emergency on the way, then we’ve got everything we need to deal with it.’

Rachel—or rather, he told himself, the nurse—helped mother and child into the wheelchair as he ran a knowing eye along the equipment she had prepared for the journey.

‘Ready?’ Dominic checked as Rachel wrapped a blanket around Thomas and his mum.

‘Ready,’ the nurse agreed and gave the mother a smile...

Except it was Rachel’s smile, and to Dominic it felt like a punch in the guts. It was summer and spring all rolled into one. It was the memory of Saturday nights watching a movie while eating a curry in bed. It was a forgotten ten-pound note found in her jeans that she’d waved over her head before taking him for breakfast in the café across the street.

But he was determined that her smile would not be his undoing.

‘Ready,’ Jordan said.

There was a blast of cold air as they left the department and he tried not to notice Rachel briefly rub her bare arms.

It was a reminder for Dominic that Rachel was always cold—and not just in body temperature. He’d never been allowed inside that head of hers, so he did all he could to put her out of his now.

It was a very long walk up the corridor. Rachel’s eyes never left Thomas’s face as Haylee nervously chatted away. ‘I thought he had croup,’ she admitted. ‘But he was blue when I went to him...’

‘Well, he’s in the right place now,’ Rachel said, doing her level best to keep Haylee as calm as she could.

‘Have you worked here long?’ Haylee asked.

‘I’ve only been here a week,’ Rachel admitted. ‘Before that I worked in a paediatric emergency department in Sheffield.’

‘I thought I heard a northern accent.’ Haylee nodded and looked up at Rachel. ‘Do you have any children?’

‘No,’ Rachel said.

To her utter, aching regret, the answer was no, even if it wasn’t strictly true. But it was much easier just to say no and deny her son’s existence than to walk along a corridor with someone she didn’t know and admit to the agony.

‘No, I don’t.’

The porters were holding the lift for them, and as the group got in, Rachel gave them a nod of thanks, relieved that attention could be diverted from her answer to Haylee’s question.

The lift doors closed and Haylee looked up at Jordan. ‘So, you’ve got three children?’

‘I do,’ Jordan said. ‘All boys.’

Rachel held her breath as Haylee asked Dominic the same question. ‘What about you, Doctor?’

How would Dominic respond?

For Rachel, worse than having him reveal their past would be hearing about his present. Was she about to learn that he was married with two little ones or one on the way?

As she awaited his response, Rachel found she was holding her breath. Was she going to have to hide her reaction to hearing about a Mrs Hadley? Or a soon-to-be Mrs Hadley? And how would she react to that?

Dominic wasn’t about to enlighten anyone.

He would rather be anywhere than in this lift right now. And this morning, of all mornings, it was imperative that he keep his private and professional worlds firmly separated.

‘I try not to bring my personal life to work, Haylee,’ he said, and let out a steadying breath. ‘It makes it easier for me to focus.’

Haylee nodded and gave a small smile, not offended in the least at the slight rebuff, and he saw Rachel let go of the breath she’d been holding.

The lift swished them to the second floor, and they were soon gliding along the highly polished corridor and into the controlled world of the operating theatre, where more medical staff awaited them.

‘Stay with him,’ Dominic ordered Rachel. ‘A familiar face might help.’

But Rachel’s familiar face most certainly wasn’t helping Dominic, so it was Thomas Jennings he kept on his mind as he went off to change into scrubs.

As the theatre nurses checked Thomas’s ID, and ran through questions with his mum, Richard Lewis came in and introduced himself.

Jordan was ordering an IV and drugs, but the efficient theatre staff were taking care of that, and Rachel again found that she felt a little giddy.

Not in an about-to-faint way. Just giddy from the heat of Theatre, she tried to convince herself. Of course she was worried about Thomas, but mostly she was overwhelmed by seeing Dominic again—but she never let it show, not even for a second. Even when Dominic returned, dressed in scrubs and a theatre cap, she gave him as banal a look as she could muster.

‘Let’s get a line in,’ Dominic said, and then added to Rachel, ‘Can you try to distract him?’

The numbing gel had only recently been applied, but she hoped it would take the edge off the cannula going in. More important, Thomas was increasingly cyanosed and becoming rather listless, so it was imperative they moved quickly.

Haylee cuddled her son while Dominic eased a cannula into his little vein.

‘Good boy,’ Dominic said when it was all done and hooked up.

Now that IV access had been secured, it was time for Rachel to escort Thomas’s mum out of the operating theatre. But before she left, Dominic caught the tearful woman’s eye. ‘I won’t leave his side,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ Haylee said.

She turned and waved as her son let out a raspy cry, but allowed Rachel to lead her out.

‘They’ll take the very best care of him,’ Rachel said.

‘That anaesthetist—he seems to know what he’s doing,’ Haylee said as Rachel led her to the relatives’ room. ‘Thomas will be safe with him.’

‘Yes,’ Rachel said. ‘Dr Hadley will take the very best care.’

It was a difficult intubation. Thomas’s throat was swollen, and the vocal cords were hard to visualise, but with Richard’s quiet and reassuring presence, Dominic got the tube in and thankfully a tracheostomy wasn’t necessary. Swabs and bloods were taken, and antibiotics and IV fluids were started.

Thomas was moved over to the ITU, where, sedated and ventilated, his little body could finally start to fight the infection, and it wasn’t long before Haylee was allowed to return to her son’s side. Only then did Dominic leave him.

‘Well done,’ Richard said as Dominic took a seat at the nurses’ station that looked out over the whole of ITU and pulled up Thomas’s incoming blood work on the computer.

‘Thanks.’

Richard turned his head at this rather muted response from Dominic. He noted the pallor on his colleague’s face, and saw that his usually suave registrar was suddenly anything but.

‘Is everything okay?’ Richard checked.

‘Not really,’ he admitted, and ran a hand over his forehead now that the surprising turn of events had begun to sink in. ‘There’s a nurse down in Emergency...’

Richard rolled his eyes. This happened all too often where Dominic was concerned. ‘You need to learn to let them down more gently,’ Richard suggested.

But Dominic was silent.

He knew it would be far more sensible to say nothing. To just let it go.

After all, what had happened between him and Rachel had been more than a decade ago.

Way more than a decade.

It had been thirteen years, in fact.

Yes, better to stay silent, Dominic decided.

Except the shock of the morning had been so great—or maybe it was just that he couldn’t hold it in any longer—that he told his senior the truth.

‘It’s not like that,’ Dominic said, for it wasn’t a little glitch with an ex or some disgruntled lover that was troubling him.

Rachel had been way more than that.

‘I just ran into my ex-wife.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘EX-WIFE?’ RICHARD did a double-take, perhaps thinking he had misheard or that Dominic was joking.

‘Yes.’

‘Your ex-wife is working in Emergency? You never said you’d been married. I had no idea.’

How could he have? Dominic thought to himself. Apart from a fleeting conversation with Jordan and his wife, a couple of years ago, he’d never discussed his brief marriage with anyone. To Dominic’s colleagues, friends—and lovers—he was the personification of an eternal playboy bachelor.

‘It was a long time ago,’ Dominic clipped, already regretting saying anything. ‘It didn’t last for long.’

‘What happened?’ Richard persisted.

‘We were young.’ Dominic shrugged and turned back to the computer. ‘We got married for all the wrong reasons.’

‘Such as?’

But Dominic wasn’t going to answer that one.

‘We both agreed it was a mistake. I haven’t seen her in...’ He blew out a sigh. ‘Years.’

‘And how does it feel to see her now?’

Dominic thought for a moment. How did it feel to see Rachel again?

Challenging.

It felt as if every mistake he had ever made in life was suddenly being paraded in front of him, but he played it down to his boss.

‘Surprised. I never thought she’d leave Sheffield,’ Dominic admitted, but he deliberately didn’t offer her name, nor let on that it was Rachel. There were always staff coming and going at The Primary, and he was quietly relieved Richard hadn’t picked up on the tension between them this morning. ‘She’s all about her family.’

‘What are they like?’ Richard asked.

‘Her mum died, so there’s just her dad—and she’s ever so protective of him. Oh, and there are four hulking brothers. They’re all very parochial...’ His voice trailed off. He didn’t mean it in a derogatory way, but as an outsider it had been impossible to break in to their clique. ‘They considered me weak.’

‘Weak?’ Richard frowned, clearly nonplussed, because Dominic, as well as being tall and broad-shouldered, was incredibly confident and assured.

‘A bit of a pansy,’ Dominic elaborated. ‘And I guess I was back then.’

Richard laughed, but it faded when he saw the serious expression on his colleague’s face.

‘What was your wife like?’

‘Tricky,’ Dominic said—which was the understatement of the year.

But he really didn’t want to discuss it, so when his pager buzzed he pounced on it and saw that it was Maternity.

‘Your wife is paging me,’ Dominic said, and gave a wry smile. Richard’s wife, Freya, was a midwife, and had just started back at work after the birth of their son William. ‘I’m needed over in Maternity for an epidural.’

But Richard had more to say on the topic of Dominic’s ex-wife. ‘I can go and give the epidural. Why don’t you go and speak with...?’

Richard was waiting, Dominic guessed, for him to offer a name, but he would not be revealing that.

‘It must have been a big shock for your ex-wife too,’ Richard said.

‘She seemed fine with it.’ Dominic shrugged.

Only, he knew that couldn’t be true. Rachel buried her emotions deep, and he had been denied access to them right from the start. When they’d first got together he had asked about her mother, wondering how her loss at such an early age had affected Rachel, but she had shut him down. And then, in those final painful days when he’d tried to speak to her about their son, Rachel had made it very clear she did not want him to get close.

Well, she’d got her wish, and although it appeared they might be working together for the foreseeable future, they had never been further apart.

‘I’ll head up to Maternity,’ he said.

‘No, no.’ Richard stood and pulled rank. ‘I’m going. There’s a patient with COPD down in Emergency. He needs a pre-op assessment. Could you go and take care of that, please?’

Dominic’s jaw gritted.

‘And while you’re there perhaps you could manage a conversation with your ex-wife, to ensure that you’re both okay with the situation?’

‘We’ll be fine.’

‘Good. Then you’ll have no issue heading down to Emergency.’

‘Of course I won’t. But as for having a conversation with my ex-wife, there’s nothing left to talk about,’ Dominic said. ‘It was all said and done with years ago.’

Not really.

There had been an awful lot left unsaid.

Rachel had walked back down towards the Emergency Department in somewhat of a daze. She had been completely unprepared to see him and felt utterly sideswiped.

Her move to London was still so new. Of course she knew that Dominic was from here, so she’d been braced to run into him on the street, or in a shop or café, even while telling herself she was being ridiculous—after all, there were more than eight million people living in London.

Not for a second had she expected to see him at work.

A doctor?

An anaesthetist!

When?

He wasn’t exactly a people person. In fact, the Dominic she’d known had been rather socially awkward. The Dominic she’d known had had one interest—physics—and had been determined that one day he’d be a research scientist. He’d been heading off to university for just that purpose.

Okay, he’d had two interests, Rachel amended as she opened the large double doors to Emergency: physics and sex.

She dared not allow herself to think of the latter, though!

‘How’s Thomas?’ May pounced the second Rachel returned to the department.

‘I’m not sure,’ Rachel said. ‘I took Mum over to the ITU relatives’ room, but Thomas was still in Theatre when I left.’

‘I’ll call them in a little while,’ May said.

Rachel looked over to May, who was writing on the whiteboard as she chatted, and oddly found that she wanted to confide in her.

May, she wanted to say, how long has Dominic Hadley worked here? Or, May, that registrar anaesthetist—well, he just happens to be my ex-husband and I don’t know quite what to do.

But Rachel said nothing.

‘Are you okay to go back to work in Minor Injuries?’ May asked, taking her glasses off and smiling at Rachel.

‘Sure.’

‘Would you mind restocking Resus first?’ May directed a slight eye-roll at Tara. ‘You know what you used.’

Restocking was tedious, but essential—especially in Resus. It was imperative that all the equipment was exactly where it should be when it was needed the most.

A lot of the packs had been opened, though not necessarily used, so there was a lot of replacing and reordering to do. Rachel did so methodically, glad of the chance to get better acquainted with the area.

Tara was taking care of an elderly patient who’d had a seizure. He was currently sleeping while they awaited his transfer to a ward. She joined Rachel in Resus.

‘How long did you work in Emergency in Sheffield?’ she asked as Rachel replaced the oxygen tubing and mask and checked the suction.

‘Three years in Emergency all up. I did hairdressing before I went into nursing.’

They chatted lightly as Rachel worked, though Rachel’s heart wasn’t really in the conversation. She was still reeling from seeing Dominic that morning, and wondering how on earth they would be with each other when they eventually spoke.

The patient Tara was caring for was soon transferred, so she came and gave Rachel a hand, both of them checking the intubation tray’s contents before sealing it up.

‘Keep an eye on Dominic,’ Tara said suddenly.

‘Sorry?’ Rachel blinked.

‘Dominic Hadley—the registrar anaesthetist. I saw him looking at you when he was on the phone.’

Rachel decided it was best to act vague. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m just trying to give you a heads-up. Dominic might best be described as “nice while it lasts”—but, believe me, it never does.’

Rachel could hear the bitterness in Tara’s voice. It was clear there was history between her and Dominic, and from the sound of things, he had become a bit of a player. It was all just so at odds with the man she had once known.

She wondered what Tara’s reaction would be if she told her she had once been married to him, and decided there and then that her and Dominic’s past would not be joining them at The Primary.

There was no way she wanted the fact they’d been married to get out. And aside from that...

‘I’m engaged,’ Rachel said, ‘and even if I weren’t...’

She left it there, because it felt safer to do so than to let her imagination wander down that track.

No way!

Her heart had been placed under lock and key after she and Dominic had broken up. It had taken years for her to forge another relationship. There had been a couple of cursory attempts at dating, but they hadn’t worked out. And then, when she’d first started working in Emergency, she’d met Gordon, a friend of her flatmate, who was kind and made her feel safe.

When the accounting firm he worked for had offered him a promotion that had required him to move to London, Gordon had asked her to join him. It had felt like a big leap to agree to live with him, on top of moving cities and jobs for him, but the night before they’d left for London Gordon had, at the leaving party her dad had thrown for them, asked her to marry him. And now they were engaged.

Not that she wore her ring to work.

With the restock done, Rachel signed off and headed back to the minor injuries section. But an hour or so later, unable to concentrate and desperate for a moment’s peace, she said she was going to find her cardigan and made her way to the changing rooms. Without even bothering to switch on the light, Rachel sat on the bench in semi-darkness, the sounds of the Emergency Department muffled behind the thick door, and put her head in her hands, trying to process things.

Dominic was a doctor.

That nerdy teenager she had known was now a sharp-suited anaesthetist with something of a reputation with women, given it had taken all of one moment in his presence to be warned of his ways.

Despite keeping her head down, the giddy feeling refused to abate—and then Rachel suddenly recognised what the feeling was: it was how she had always felt when she was with him.

Yes, Dominic Hadley made her giddy—and had done so from the very first day they had met.

It had been September, and both had been starting their last year of senior school. His father, a professor, had accepted a role at the university in Sheffield, and the family had moved up there and enrolled Dominic in a top school.

Rachel had been there on a hard-won scholarship, and had never really fitted in, while Dominic had been sent there as a matter of course.

Not that he’d wanted to be there.

He had missed London and his old school friends.

Despite being from very different backgrounds, they had struck up a friendship. They had both been complete geeks.

She’d had braces, and Dominic had just had his ceramic ones taken off, so on the very first day of their final school year their first conversation had been about the importance of retainers.

‘Get two sets made,’ Dominic had advised her, ‘and wear them every night.’ He’d told her about a friend in London who hadn’t worn his and now was having to start all over again.

‘Oh, I’ll wear them.’ Rachel had nodded and smiled her silver-and-elastic-band NHS smile. ‘I won’t be able to afford them once I turn eighteen.’

They had both been very serious about their schoolwork and the conversation had turned to chemistry, which she had found impossible but he’d handled with ease.

‘Do you want me to help you?’ he’d offered when, halfway through the first term, she’d found herself falling behind. ‘We could go through some things after school?’

He had written his address down on her exercise book and that same afternoon she had made her way to his house.

His mother’s smile had been tight when she’d greeted Rachel. Professor Hadley hadn’t even attempted one, and had made it clear he was less than impressed by his son’s choice of friend.

‘You have homework of your own to do, Dominic.’

It had been obvious to Rachel that she wasn’t particularly welcome in the Hadley household, so he had started to come to her little terraced home after school.

‘What time does your mum get home?’ Dominic had asked that first time, as they’d made tea and found biscuits in the kitchen.

‘There’s just my dad and my brothers, and they usually get in around seven.’

‘Where’s your mum?’ Dominic asked.

‘She’s dead.’

‘Rachel!’

He sounded stunned, and waited for her to elaborate, but she knew that if she explained further she would break down, and her tears had long since been removed from this house.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said, picking up her mug and heading up the stairs to her room, hoping he would leave things there.

Except he did not.

‘How?’ Dominic asked as he followed her up. ‘When?’

But Rachel reminded him that he had come over so they could study together. There should be no more to it than that.

Except those walks to her home through the park started to stretch for longer. The same park where she’d been spun and swung as a child. Sometimes they’d take a seat on the park bench, or lie on the grass and talk as they gazed up at the sky.

About the clouds.

About other kids in their class.

About their studies and how he liked coming to her home. He told her that his parents fought a lot.

‘Badly?’ Rachel asked, and turned to look at his tense expression as he nodded.

‘We moved up here so they could have a fresh start,’ Dominic told her. ‘He had an affair.’

‘Oh.’ Rachel was unused to such candour.

‘But it sounds as if it’s still going on,’ Dominic said. ‘I don’t know why she stays with him when he makes her so miserable.’ He looked over to her then. ‘Do you think your dad will ever get a girlfriend?’

‘No!’ Rachel gave a soft laugh at the very thought. ‘He says he’s got enough going on with the five of us.’

Dominic turned and looked at her. ‘How did your mother die?’

There was gentleness in his enquiry. He rolled from his back onto his side, and then, leaning on his elbow, he looked down at her, and she looked up into dark eyes that wanted to know her better.

And, given what he’d just shared about his parents, she told him the little she could without crying. ‘Something ruptured in her brain.’

‘Was it sudden?’

‘Very.’

‘Do you miss her?’

Every day, she wanted to say, but she was so scared at the depth of her feelings that she didn’t know how to share them.

‘I don’t really remember her,’ Rachel said instead, because that was sort of true as well.

She remembered some things—like her smile and her kiss, and lying in bed listening to a story; the soft lilt of her Irish voice and the sparkle of her ring as she turned the page, her pretty red nails as she pointed to words, how safe she had felt when wrapped in her perfumed arms.

But she knew she’d cry if she told him that.

And so she didn’t.

Sometimes Rachel would turn her head just for a quiet gaze at Dominic. The more time she spent with him, the more aware of him she became, all the while telling herself it could never be.

So she hid how she felt, because that was the only way she knew how to live.

‘I never know what you’re thinking,’ Dominic said late one afternoon as he met her cool green gaze.

She was about to respond that she was thinking about the equation he’d just put in front of her, but that wouldn’t be true. She could feel the warmth from his thigh next to hers, and when their heads bent forward over a book she ached with the effort of not turning her face to his.

So now she did.

His gaze was intense, with an expression she had never seen before. For once it felt as if he could see her hidden desire, and yet she did not look away.

‘Perhaps I don’t want you to know,’ she said.

‘Can I at least try and guess?’

‘You can try.’

‘And if I’m wrong?’ Dominic checked. ‘Will we still be friends?’

‘We’ll still be—’

Her voice had been halted by the softness of his lips against hers. Dominic’s guess had been absolutely right. Because of course she’d been dreaming of his kiss since the first day they’d met.

In her bedroom, sitting at her desk, he kissed her soft and slow, and she forgot about her braces, and she forgot about her inexperience, because he was new to this too.

And they were no longer shy.

No longer awkward.

At least not when it was just the two of them.

Together they revised for their looming exams, and together they learned about themselves and each other. And Rachel’s braces came off, but thanks to Dominic, she felt beautiful way before then.

It wasn’t all plain sailing, though.

His parents didn’t approve of their friendship, so they worked hard to hide their blossoming romance.

And her father, who usually got on with everyone, took an instant dislike to the awkward, polite, private school boy who, to top it all off, was from down south.

Even her brothers chimed in with less-than-sage advice.

‘Don’t be letting him know you like him, Rachel.’

‘You have to play hard to get, Rachel.’

‘He’s using you, Rachel. Just stay well back.’

But nothing—not warnings, nor dire predictions, no force on this earth—could stop them.

There was secret hand-holding under desks, and stolen kisses despite the open bedroom door her dad insisted on.

And there were forbidden touches in the times when they found themselves alone...

They always made sure, though, that when Rachel’s dad or brothers dropped home unannounced to check on them they would find two nerdy teenagers really studying that science.

One day Dominic decreed that Rachel had to get ninety per cent on a practice test if she wanted a reward. Since she only managed eighty-eight per cent, even with his generous marking, he refused to allow her any prize.

‘Sorry, Rachel...’ He gave her a sad smile. ‘You failed. Back to work!’

And back to the textbook she went—until the rattle of the removals lorry rumbling up the hilly narrow street where Rachel lived announced the arrival of her family.

‘We’re about to be checked on...’ Dominic sighed.

‘Good.’ Rachel smiled in utter relief—because the sooner they were checked on, the sooner they’d be left alone again.

The front door crashed open and Phil ran up the stairs.

‘Dad forgot his...’ Phil stopped at the top of the stairs and saw the two of them deep in their books. ‘Oh, hi, there, Dominic. Didn’t know you were coming over...’

‘I told Dad he would be,’ Rachel said indignantly.

‘Hello.’ Dominic gave his usual awkward smile. ‘How are you, Phil?’

‘Grand. So, what are the two of you doing?’

‘Revising.’ Rachel rolled her eyes.

‘Oh.’

They actually were. There were books, pencils, tea and biscuits, and not a single untoward thing had taken place.

‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

The removals lorry rattled its noisy way down the steep road as Dominic totted up Rachel’s latest score.

Ninety-two per cent!

He’d slammed the book closed and she’d lain on her bed with her skirt up and closed her eyes in the bliss he gave.

‘There...’ she would moan needlessly. ‘There!’

And there he would flick with his tongue, over and over.

And there he would ignore a moment later, as he buried his face deep into her.

And she would press her mouth to the inside of her elbow and try not to scream his name.

‘Dominic, Dominic, Dominic!’

And then, deliciously, he had to have the same. And each kiss, each intimate touch, each climax they gave to each other, led them to want more, more, more.

They had both been virgins. The first time they’d tried her dad and brothers had been on a removal the other side of town—a big job that would see them there every day for a week. So, on that cold but sunny November morning, they had finally, properly, been alone.

It had been an unmitigated disaster.

Rachel had bled and felt sick because it had hurt so much, and Dominic had finished before they’d barely started.

Yes, a serious disaster.

Embarrassing and awkward didn’t even begin to describe it.

Never again, they’d both fervently agreed.

Never, ever again.

Absolutely not.

Dominic had arrived for their usual study session the next day. It had been pouring with rain. He’d shaken off his dad’s golf umbrella in the little porch, and with a lot of residual blushing and awkwardness, they’d resumed their studies...

Despite the umbrella, his damp hair had dripped on the page as the rain beat on the window, and when they’d kissed, they’d matched again. The pressure of their attempt the day before had fallen away as easily as their clothing.

She’d felt as if she were drowning in his kisses, and at his touch, as if she were floating across the sky...

Their second time had been sublime.

That had been their first winter. And as spring had inched towards summer, and they’d lain on her little single bed, naked and sated, Rachel had made an admission.

‘I’m going to miss our study sessions when we’re at university.’

Dominic was hoping to study physics at St Andrews in Scotland, or at Imperial College in London, whereas Rachel wanted to do midwifery in Sheffield.

‘What are you talking about?’ Dominic asked. ‘If we both get in, then we’ve got years of studying ahead of us.’

‘Yes, but you’ll be in Scotland or London...’

‘There are trains, Rachel.’

And now, all these years later, sitting on a changing room bench with her head in her hands, Rachel could still recall with absolute precision the glowing feeling those words had delivered.

Who was that woman? Rachel thought as she recalled the ecstasy and unbridled passion that had once been the norm between them.

Who was that woman who had shed her clothes with ease, who had physically ached to be with another person?

Where had she gone?

‘There you are,’ May said as she peered into the changing room and saw Rachel sitting there, with her head still in her hands.

‘Sorry,’ Rachel said. ‘I was just...’ Just what? ‘Getting my cardigan.’

‘It’s fine.’ May smiled. ‘I’m just about to go for my break—why don’t you do the same?’

‘Sounds great.’

They walked to the staff room together. ‘Now, take a seat and I’ll get us both a cuppa,’ May said.

But there was to be no solace in the staff room for Rachel, because Dominic was sitting there—and not by chance.

Richard had made it very clear that he wanted this dealt with quickly, and so Dominic had sat waiting.

Wondering.

Wondering about Rachel Walker, who, for the shortest of whiles, had once been Rachel Hadley.

‘Tea?’ he heard May say as they came in to the staff room.

‘I’ll have coffee,’ Rachel said, and then hurriedly added, ‘But I’ll get it.’

She did a quick about-turn when she saw Dominic, and May, who he knew liked to make a fuss of her staff when she could, halted her.

‘Don’t be daft,’ May said. ‘How do you have it?’

White with one sugar, Dominic was tempted to answer.

‘White, no sugar,’ Rachel said.

So she had given up that pleasure.

May turned to Dominic. ‘How’s young Thomas doing?’

‘Stable,’ Dominic said. ‘Which is a hell of a lot better than he was a couple of hours ago.’

‘Indeed,’ May agreed. ‘Would you like some tea?’

‘Aye,’ he answered in a thick northern accent. ‘But none of that namby-pamby herbal stuff...’

May gave a slightly bemused smile, because of course she didn’t get the private joke that had once existed between them: Rachel had been in a camomile tea phase, and Dominic, who had been strictly a coffee drinker, had unwittingly made camomile tea for her dad when he’d dropped by their flat.

‘What the bloody hell is this?’ Dave Walker had said as he’d spat it out.

Yes, he’d thought Dominic a pansy who drank namby-pamby herbal tea.

Dominic looked over at Rachel, to see if they might share a private smile, but she was staring hard at the television on the wall and continued to stare at it even as May headed to the kitchen and they were left alone.

‘Aren’t you going to say hello, Rachel?’ Dominic asked.

‘Hello.’

Rachel turned and looked at him, but couldn’t help her eyes drifting from his dark eyes to his jaw, to his mouth.

His mouth had always enthralled her.

The mouth that had kissed every inch of her skin.

‘How have you been?’ she asked.

But it was clear Dominic wasn’t going to answer that here.

‘Do you want to meet for a drink? Clear the air and catch up?’

‘No, thanks.’ She shook her head, but then, worrying that she’d appear petty, and knowing they had to have this conversation at some point if they were going to be able to work in the same hospital, she changed her mind. ‘Actually, a quick catch-up might be good.’

‘There’s a pub across the road from the hospital,’ Dominic suggested. ‘I should finish around six—’

‘My lunch is at one,’ Rachel interrupted. ‘If you want to speak we can meet then.’

‘I am not doing this in the canteen.’

And neither would she be going to a pub with him.

Those days were long since gone.

‘It’s not as if we’re going to be holding hands across the table, Dominic,’ Rachel said, but then she questioned her own wisdom. After all, she wanted this kept well away from work.

But Dominic was already nodding.

‘I’ll do my best to be there,’ he replied, rather tartly.

They fell into silence as May came in with a tray of drinks and a huge coffee-and-walnut cake which she had brought from home. Dominic fell upon it immediately, and devoured his slice in a few bites.

He’d always been hungry, Rachel recalled.

‘Will you have a piece, Rachel?’ May offered.

‘Not for me, thanks.’ She was struggling to hold her mug of coffee, let alone negotiate eating cake.

‘Oh, while I’ve got you, Dominic...’ May chatted on as she cut the cake. ‘The Emergency Department are having a night out for all those who worked at Christmas and couldn’t make the do.’

‘That would be me,’ Dominic said.

‘So, shall I put you down?’ May asked as she handed him a second generous slice. ‘We haven’t finalised where just yet.’

‘I’m not sure...’ Dominic said, and then glanced over to Rachel, who was back to staring at the television screen. ‘I’ll check my roster and let you know.’

‘You’ve already put your name down, haven’t you, Rachel?’ May said, taking out a list from her pocket and reading through it. ‘That’s right—Rachel, plus one.’ May smiled. ‘It will be lovely to meet your fiancé. What’s his name again?’

The air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. ‘Gordon,’ Rachel said rather flatly.

‘That’s right—Gordon.’ May nodded, but then frowned as Dominic abruptly stood up. ‘Where are you going in such a hurry? Don’t you want that second piece of cake?’

‘I’ve got to see that COPD patient.’ He clipped out the words as he stalked off.

Rachel fought not to turn her head at his rapid departure and continued to stare at the television screen.

Oh, dear...oh, dear...oh, dear...

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.