The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal. Margaret McDonagh

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      ‘Why would I be?’

      This time the smile had a harder edge and no humour. ‘I’m a Devlin, remember? We never amount to much.’

      ‘Don’t say that, Luke.’ Her protest was swift, her anger rising that people who knew nothing about him could pass judgement, but also that he should ever believe the ignorant gossips. She managed to resist the urge to reach out to him, instead clenching the hand that had moved so instinctively into a fist on top of the table. ‘You were the brightest, cleverest person I knew, not to mention the most thoughtful. And you worked hard. You were never going to be like them, were always going to make something of your life.’

      One eyebrow, several shades darker than his hair, rose questioningly. ‘You thought that?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘I wish I’d had the same belief!’ His teasing faded, the expression in his watchful green eyes sober once more. ‘You were always different, weren’t you, Chessie? And I don’t mean that,’ he interjected as she stiffened involuntarily, accurately judging her train of thought, knowing of her past when she had been growing up. He moved, one fingertip resting lightly on the back of her tensed hand. Even that simple touch scalded her skin. ‘I mean, in the way you saw me as a human being rather than an extension of a bad family,’ he clarified, his finger brushing softly back and forth, sending a tremor right through her. Green eyes turned darker with an emotion she couldn’t identify and his voice was serious and almost wistful when he spoke again. ‘I’ve never forgotten the faith and trust you always granted me, or the way you stood up for me.’

      Francesca had no idea what to say. She wanted to remove her hand from his caress and her gaze from his, but her body refused to obey her. ‘Are you here to see your mother?’ she asked as, shaken, she struggled to gather her composure, keen to put away the emotional memories yet unable to resist the temptation to discover more about the man he was now.

      ‘That’s one benefit of it.’

      The cryptic response roused her interest but also made her edgy and left her feeling there was more he had to tell her, something important she had yet to grasp. ‘One benefit of what?’ she whispered, all too conscious that she sounded less like the confident, independent woman she had become and more the breathless, tongue-tied teenager of old.

      For the longest moment, the very air seemed to still as she waited for Luke’s answer. His hand enclosed hers, warm and strong yet exquisitely gentle as he linked their fingers together. Francesca thought she might go up in flames, not only from the contact but from the smouldering way he looked at her—as if no one else mattered, as if he saw her alone. Finally, he spoke.

      ‘Fate. Timing. Three vital things falling into place at once. One was Ma. One was the job…’

      Again Luke paused, and a shiver rippled through her at the seductive, intimate expression in his magnetic green eyes. As the tension and the electric charge between them continued to grow, she forced herself to ask the question now drumming inside her.

      ‘What job?’

      ‘As specialist surgical registrar on Maurice Goodwin’s orthopaedic team.’

      Francesca smothered a gasp of shock as Luke delivered the unexpected news. Her breath hitched and her heart rate kicked up with a mix of excitement and alarm as the full implications of what he had just said sank in. ‘Here…in Strathlochan?’ she clarified, scarcely aware that her fingers had tightened around his in response, as if seeking reassurance or grounding herself in reality.

      ‘Here.’ His voice, low and husky, spread warmth right through her. ‘I’m home for good, Chessie.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘HOW did it go?’

      The question greeted Luke the moment he stepped through the back doorway into his mother’s kitchen. ‘OK. Good.’ Two insufficient words to describe the events that had unfolded in the last few hours.

      ‘Did you see Francesca?’

      ‘Yes.’ Typical Ma, getting right to the heart of things. Luke smiled to himself, watching as she bustled around, switching on the kettle to make tea and taking a tray of her legendary, heavenly scented almond shortbread from the oven and tipping the slab out onto a rack. ‘We had a quick lunch in the hospital canteen.’

      ‘And?’ she persisted, turning to face him, eagerness and curiosity evident in green eyes that were a couple of shades duller than his own.

      Luke pulled out a stool and sat at the breakfast bar, not at all sure how to put his thoughts and emotions into words. So he started with a simple fact. ‘Francesca’s even lovelier than you said.’

      ‘The promise was always there as a girl and she’s matured into a beautiful woman,’ his mother stated, cutting the cooling shortbread into slices.

      ‘That she has.’

      His mother chuckled. ‘I thought you would notice! How did she take your news?’

      ‘There was no surprise that I’m a doctor—it seems that Francesca always believed in me,’ he confided, still moved by her faith in him. ‘Just like you.’

      ‘Even very young she had a fierce streak of loyalty towards you.’ She poured the tea, set a mug in front of him and then sat down, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her own drink. ‘What about the rest of it…you being back in Strathlochan and working at the hospital?’

      ‘That did surprise her.’

      In fact, there had been a whole range of emotions in Francesca’s expressive grey eyes when she had learned of his return. The surprise had been obvious, followed by a flash of excitement, a wash of pleasure and then a hint of alarm that had alerted him to the task that lay ahead of him. Winning her completely in the way he wanted could not be taken for granted.

      ‘Does she know the reasons why you came back?’

      ‘Not all of them.’ He paused, succumbing to temptation and helping himself to a piece of still-warm shortbread that melted on his tongue, filling his mouth with buttery sweetness and the subtle flavour of almonds. ‘Francesca needs time, Ma. We both do. It’s been ten years. We need to get to know each other again.’

      His mother nodded her agreement. Luke knew she had been aware what Francesca had meant to him all those years ago and how he had felt, especially when she had left town so unexpectedly and he’d not been able to find her. Now she regarded him, her expression curious. ‘But you felt it? When you saw her again?’

      Oh, yeah, he’d felt it! Luke shook his head, remembering his instant reaction to her, a reaction that had intensified the longer he had spent with her, listening to her, being close to her. ‘It’s still there—for me. The question is whether Chessie can come to feel the same.’

      ‘There was always a special connection between you, not that either of you understood it then. You were too young. But I could see it, and I held out hope, sure that Francesca was the right girl for you,’ she admitted with a reminiscent smile. ‘Who knows what would have happened had events been different and you hadn’t been driven apart before your friendship had the opportunity to cement? It may have been too soon then, for both of СКАЧАТЬ