Mistletoe Magic. Кэрол Мортимер

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      He continued to stare down at her, those green eyes taking in every flicker. She could smell the citrus tang of his aftershave, see the power in his arms, and for a second all Eden wanted to do was lean on him, to weep into his chest, to feel those strong arms comfort her, to have him tell her that it was all going to be OK, that little Ben was going to be fine.

      But, quite simply, she couldn’t, and, Eden realised, the horrible truth starting to sink in, neither could Nick say that Ben was going to be OK. So instead they stood there, for what seemed the longest time, Eden forcing a smile, pretending she could deal with this as Nick weighed up whatever was on his mind.

      ‘We’ll go for a drink when your shift’s over.’

      ‘A drink?’ Bewildered, she stared back at him. As friendly as they had once been, their relationship, if you could call it that, had never extended outside the hospital walls. A stupid flame of hope started to fizz in her stomach but instantly Nick doused it.

      ‘Or we can talk tomorrow at work, in front of Donna, but I really think the conversation we’re about to have should take place well away from the ward.’

      ‘I’m in my uniform,’ Eden protested.

      ‘So?’ Nick shrugged. ‘We’ll go to Kelly’s over the road, you’ll match everyone there!’