Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor. Margaret McDonagh

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      Kate frowned, taking a chair next to his. ‘Chloe is…’

      ‘What?’ he prompted after she paused and the silence lengthened.

      ‘She’s not like the kind of women you’re probably used to mixing with.’

      He raised an eyebrow at that, irritated by the way so few people saw beyond the image. Sure, he enjoyed life, he liked to have a good time, indulge in the things he could afford and which gave him pleasure and relaxation away from the pressures and responsibilities of his work, things like surfing and jet-skiing. That didn’t mean he was a jerk.

      ‘I wanted time to settle, for the community to accept me, not judge on rumour and gossip or the family name.’ He paused, reining in his disgruntlement. It wasn’t Kate’s fault. He needed to earn a new reputation, a true one. ‘I’ve noticed you and Lauren are very protective of Chloe.’

      Kate’s expression softened. ‘Chloe is special. Be patient, Oliver. Go slowly. Don’t scare her.’

      ‘She’s frightened of me?’ Shocked, he stared at Kate in disbelief. He respected women, would never cause anyone harm. ‘I don’t understand. I’d never hurt her.’

      ‘Not intentionally, maybe.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘Chloe puts up a lot of barriers and not many people get to know the real woman,’ Kate explained. ‘Her work is her life and that has always suited her.’

      ‘She doesn’t date?’

      ‘No.’

      Confused, Oliver studied Kate’s face. ‘But why? She’s intelligent, beautiful, funny.’

      ‘I know.’ The older woman’s smile was filled with affection and a hint of sadness. ‘You’ll have your work cut out to persuade Chloe. It won’t be easy. But I think you’d be good for her.’ She hesitated a moment, biting her lip as she considered him. ‘I can’t break a confidence, Oliver, and Chloe is one of my best friends. I don’t know everything, but I do know that she has issues.’

      ‘Issues?’

      ‘I can’t say more. I would if I could—and I encourage you to persevere.’

      He mulled over the information. ‘Issues from her past? With men?’ Was that why Chloe was so skittish?

      ‘Only Chloe can explain…if she trusts you enough.’

      So, if he really wanted to take things further, he had to keep working hard to earn Chloe’s trust. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, not when he wanted something badly enough…and he did want Chloe. To her friends she was special. Hadn’t he sensed that, too? There was something different about her. Wasn’t that why he was still interested when a relationship so soon had never been on his agenda? For some reason he couldn’t yet fathom, Kate saw something in him, and was encouraging him not to give up on Chloe. He had no idea where the journey would end, but for now he was along for the ride.

      ‘Oliver, I think you should talk to Lauren. She knows much more than I do about Chloe’s past…not that she’ll divulge any secrets. But she might have some better advice on how to gain Chloe’s confidence.’ Kate hesitated, her gaze assessing. ‘If you’re serious about this. Chloe’s not a temporary kind of girl.’

      ‘I know that.’ Oliver frowned, seeking a way to explain feelings he scarcely understood himself. ‘I came here to begin a different life, Kate, to settle down. This is new to me, but I’d like the chance to get to know Chloe, to see what develops. She affects me in ways I’ve never experienced before.’

      ‘Then I think you’ll find Lauren and I will do all we can to help.’

      A slow smile curved Oliver’s mouth as hope flared inside him. He didn’t imagine wooing Chloe was going to be easy, not from the subtle, mysterious hints Kate had given him. He wasn’t even sure of himself, of what he was getting into. But giving up on Chloe was not an option.

      Kate stood outside Nick’s imposing stone built house, situated at the opposite end of the village to her own whitewashed cottage. Was she doing the right thing? She had managed to sound confident when she had told Chloe of her plans, but much of that bravado had evaporated. It was impossible to explain how hurt she was. Nick had genuine cause to be angry at the way he had found out about Jem—overhearing her confidential confession to Eloise that day at the surgery must have been a shock—but she didn’t feel it excused his behaviour towards her since. Today he had taken the easy way out in his eagerness to avoid her, but in doing so he had drawn Chloe, Oliver and a host of patients into their personal disagreement, and that wouldn’t do.

      Having worked up a fresh head of indignation, she walked along the path to the single-storey extension where the top half of the yellow-painted stable door stood open. Inside the expensively fitted kitchen, all wood and granite and steel, Nick stood at the island unit, his back to her. Before she lost her nerve, she rapped on the door. Nick swung round in surprise, his face creasing in a scowl of displeasure, the expression in his eyes cooling, leaving her in little doubt that she was not welcome. Tough.

      ‘What do you want?’ he demanded, voice harsh.

      ‘We need to talk, Nick.’

      He folded his arms across his chest, withdrawing into himself. ‘We have nothing to talk about.’

      ‘You’re wrong.’ As he turned and left the room without another word, she reached over the lip of the door and opened the bottom half, swinging it open and following him into the main part of the house, finding him in the airy sitting room. ‘Don’t walk away from me!’

      ‘You’re trespassing.’

      ‘For goodness’ sake!’ Usually slow to ire, Kate wanted to shake the man. ‘How long are you going to keep this up? It isn’t going to go away by ignoring it.’

      Nick faced her, his scowl deepening. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t want to talk about it. I feel betrayed, I—’

      ‘You feel betrayed? That’s rich. For once in your life stop and think how other people might feel. How I might feel.’ Her hands clenched to fists at her sides. ‘What we did, Nick, we did together. It was a terrible time, we needed each other. Then we both admitted it was wrong and we never spoke of it again. I had the guilt of betraying James while he was out there, dying, his body never found. How do you think it was for me, coming to terms with losing my husband, discovering I was pregnant from my one night of comfort with you? What was I supposed to do? Come and tell you and Annabel about it? Or would you rather I had sprung it on you a few years later while you were going through your own desperate grief at losing your wife? When would have been the “right time”, Nick?’

      He looked surprised at her outburst but no more approachable. ‘I don’t know. I don’t have any answers. What do you expect of me?’

      ‘Nothing. Nothing at all,’ she shot back, knowing she had long ago given up expecting anything from the man she had always loved but who had chosen another woman over her, a woman for whom he was still grieving.

      ‘What about Lucy, Jack and Edward?’ he demanded, naming his grown-up children. ‘What do you think this will do to them?’

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