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A Very Special Proposal
Josie Metcalfe
The princess and the pauperPrivileged doctor Amy Willmott has never forgotten her crush on Zachery Bowman—the boy who had the worst reputation in town. When Amy returns to her hometown she cannot believe her eyes when she is introduced to the new E.R. doctor—it's Zach!Zach is more attractive than ever, and he's still as drawn to Amy and her caring vulnerability as she is to him. But he cannot look past their backgrounds.It's up to Amy to convince Zach that their love can conquer anything, if he is to find the courage to make that very special proposal.
With a strange sense that fantasy and reality had just become inextricably entwined, Amy’s heart almost forgot how to beat
It felt almost as if she was turning in slow motion until she finally faced the man who’d been standing behind her.
There was a weird feeling of inevitability as she looked up into those newly familiar dark eyes, but it wasn’t until she caught sight of that sleek dark hair that the pieces fell into place.
Zach was a doctor? In her hospital?
Dear Reader (#u5a16ee88-3f80-5a2d-8e04-94536ccce5b5),
How many times have we daydreamed about the people we went to school with, wondering about the girl who never looked anything but perfect and the gorgeous boy who didn’t even give us a second look? Have they led a charmed existence or are they now overweight, balding…just as ordinary as the rest of us?
How about the bad boy? The one with the attitude and the leather jacket who rode a forbidden motorcycle.
I don’t have to wonder about him because I married the dark-haired, dark-eyed bad boy who showed me how to hold on tight for my first pillion ride, and have spent years discovering that bad boys can be very, very good.
Amy never saw Zach again after they left school and has always wondered what happened to him. Their teachers had predicted that he would end up in prison…or worse…but he’d stolen her heart when they were partnered in the labs at school. She’s never forgotten him, even though she’s now a successful E.R. doctor.
And now, here he is, far from being the failure everyone had predicted, but a doctor, too, and the effect he has on her heart is more potent than ever.
Her parents are still warning her against him, but this time Amy is determined to take a walk on the wild side.
I hope you enjoy taking the journey with Zach and Amy as much as I did writing about it.
Happy reading!
Josie
A Very Special Proposal
Josie Metcalfe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
COVER (#u84939699-5ba4-5ccd-b9e6-534995a216ae)
Dear Reader
TITLE PAGE (#ub52142a5-c17c-5b6b-a3f2-4f9b41438f6d)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u5a16ee88-3f80-5a2d-8e04-94536ccce5b5)
‘DID you see that programme on TV last night?’ Amy heard one of the junior nurses ask her friend as they chatted together during their break. ‘It was all about these people who had gone on the internet to look up their old friends and classmates.’
‘I caught part of it,’ her friend agreed. ‘The bit when they were saying how many marriages were ruined by people meeting up with their first loves.’
‘I can’t imagine having that problem with my first love,’ the first voice said with a laugh. ‘He was called Alex…something-or-other. I think he stopped growing any taller when he got to twelve—just when I started to put on a growth spurt. By the time we left school, I was head and shoulders above him even though he weighed twice as much as me.’
‘Perhaps it was kissing you that stunted his growth?’ teased a third voice, but, although she was smiling at their nonsense, Amy tuned out their conversation at that point, suddenly wondering how many of her old classmates were still around the area. She certainly hadn’t kept in touch with any of them, not once she’d left to go to medical school, and then she’d married Edward and their lives had been far too full of work-related social events—chances for her ambitious husband to ‘network’ with the movers and shakers in cardiothoracic surgery—to have had time to keep up with the people she’d known at school.
It had only been fairly recently that she’d returned to the area, after she’d lost Edward, and she hadn’t really been interested in looking up old acquaintances…hadn’t been interested in any sort of social life at all, if she was really honest.
Would any of the people she’d once known have signed up with one of those internet sites—presuming she ever worked out how to get into them? Her intermittent use of the internet was usually reserved for the same few sites devoted to medical matters, researching protocols for emergency treatment and checking the most recent drugs and their efficacy and contra-indications.
Anyway, even when she had lived in the area she hadn’t known many people; even her classmates. She’d spent her last three years at school with her nose pressed firmly in her study books, determined to win a place at medical school. She’d allowed herself absolutely no time to think about boyfriends or…
Liar! a little voice in the back of her head accused. There had been one boy…young man, really, at nearly eighteen years of age…who’d done more than catch her eye.
‘Zachary Bowman,’ she whispered under cover of the surrounding chatter. She felt the same twist of guilty pleasure deep inside that had scared her so much when they’d been teenagers assigned to the same bench in the science labs. It had happened every time she’d seen his profile outlined against the tall stark windows or had dared to meet his serious dark gaze…even when their elbows or shoulders had brushed innocently as they’d reached for a flask of reagent during an experiment or noting down their findings.
He’d been every teenage girl’s fantasy of ‘tall, dark and handsome’ with an extra dash of ‘dangerous’ thrown in for good measure. She could still remember that his brown eyes had been so dark that they’d appeared as black as his hair, and as for that hair, it had been unruly, with a rebellious natural curl that had made her hands tingle with the urge to stroke the heavy weight of it back off his forehead to see if it was as silky as it looked.
‘The forbidden romance that never was,’ she murmured wryly, remembering that, apart from one notable occasion, they’d barely exchanged a word outside the classroom or the library. And that occasion was definitely better off being forgotten, if the heat of revisited embarrassment climbing her cheeks was any indication.
Except she’d never really forgotten him, even though so many years had passed. Sometimes, months had gone by and any thoughts of him had been buried under the everyday load of a stressful job and a relatively high-profile marriage. But, still, she’d wondered what would have happened, whether her life would have been very different if she’d only had the courage to…What was the phrase? Take a walk on the wild side?
Wild? Amy Willmott, née Bowes, the original over-achiever?
Suddenly she had a disturbing insight into how her life must look to others and she almost laughed aloud.
In comparison with her, plain boiled rice would seem exciting.
‘For heaven’s sake, what’s to stop you having a go at surfing the net?’ she muttered crossly. ‘It’s not as if anyone else is ever going to know and think any less of you.’ And there would be a certain amount of satisfaction in finding out whether Zach had avoided coming to the ignominious end that their teachers had predicted.
Or would she rather remember him the way he’d been then—forever flouting school dress code in a disreputable leather jacket as he’d thrown one long lean leg over the motorbike he’d been prohibited from parking on school property, then flashing her a wicked grin before he’d flipped the visor down on his helmet and roared off down the road.
That night, in spite of the fact that she’d had an extremely busy shift at work and was totally exhausted, somehow she just couldn’t sleep.
For some time she lay in the darkness and practised the relaxation and breathing techniques that had got her through her vivas unscathed, then she tried to read a light-hearted romantic novel, but the characters just couldn’t hold her attention, not when the fictional hero was having to vie with her memories.
Finally, she gave in to temptation and padded through to the spare room that she’d set up as an office where her laptop sat waiting on the desk in the corner of the room.
It was amazing how easily she found the site her colleagues had been talking about and how quickly she was able to find the name of the school she’d attended, but even before she began to scroll through the list of names, her misgivings returned, full force.
‘What on earth am I doing?’ she demanded of the gently humming machine, her hand hovering over the mouse. One more click would take her to the names beginning with ‘B’ and would tell her whether Zach’s name was registered. Part of her would love to know that he’d gone on to make a success of his life, but she really didn’t want to know that anything…anything bad had happened to him.
Somehow that would sully the innocent passion of her memories…the soft-focus fantasy that she’d indulged in for years that, if only he’d noticed her…asked her out on just one date…he would have discovered that she was the only woman for him and they would have lived happily ever after.
Except it had all been one-sided.
They’d spent weeks as lab partners, assigned purely on the basis of their names in the register, Bowman coming directly after Bowes, so if he’d had any interest in her as even a moderately attractive female, surely he’d have said…something! Anything!
He could have suggested they had a coffee together…walked with her after a study session in the library…taken her for a ride on his fearsomely powerful bike…
Ha!
The closest he’d ever come to that had been to throw her a wicked grin before he’d roared off into the distance, leaving her gazing wistfully after him.
Even when she’d screwed up her courage to mention the school leavers’ dance, he hadn’t taken the hint. Instead of a blissful evening spent in his arms, she’d had to make do with a rather strained celebratory meal with her parents in an expensive restaurant, listening to the two of them rhapsodise about the glittering future that lay ahead of her. She couldn’t allow herself to be side-tracked by anything, they’d insisted. All she had to do was keep her eye on where she was going. There would be plenty of time for her to have a social life once she was qualified and surrounded by people with the same aims and aspirations…other doctors, for example…
Amy deliberately shut Edward’s image away, refusing to allow guilty thoughts of the husband she’d lost just over a year ago to intrude on her present dilemma.
The cursor continued to blink patiently beside Shelley Adams’s name at the top of the list but it almost seemed to taunt her. Just one more click and the section on display would be replaced by the next one and she would know whether Zach’s name was there, then one more click and she would see…what? A copy of that infamous school photo with his dark unruly hair defying taming and his dark eyes…those dark eyes that had followed her through her dreams for years, even into her marriage…? Or would it be a contemporary picture with his striking features blurred by weight and age and his hairline receding towards middle age?
The idea that she might find out that he was now happily married with half a dozen beautiful dark-eyed children was somehow worse than the prospect of finding out that he’d had a fatal accident on that noisy bike of his or that he’d ended up in prison, and that was totally crazy, considering the way her own life had gone.
With her parents encouraging her every step of the way, she’d accepted the place her stellar grades had secured at one of the most prestigious medical schools in the country, and immediately after she’d qualified, she’d married Edward in a fairy-tale wedding, much to their delight.
Edward Willmott, who couldn’t have been less like Zach if he’d deliberately tried. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, he’d been totally focused on getting to the top of the tree in the shortest possible time, no matter what else he had to sacrifice or postpone along the way. Edward, who had died a hero in the middle of a motorway pile-up, leaving her without the child that they were always going to have next year, and feeling guilty that she hadn’t really appreciated what she’d had until it was gone and her life was totally empty.
She’d had it all, so why should she resent the very idea of Zach finding the same fulfilment?
‘No reason at all,’ she said aloud as she decisively broke the connection with the internet and shut the computer down. ‘And no reason whatever to look him up, especially at this time of night when I’ve got to be getting up in another four hours to go to work.’
She returned to bed, determined not to let her thoughts stray in his direction again, but discovered when she woke up too early, tired and out of sorts, that she hadn’t had any control over where her dreams had taken her.
‘So, what would have been so bad about clicking on his name and finding out once and for all?’ she demanded in the noisy confines of her little car as she headed towards the hospital at least an hour earlier than necessary. She pulled up at a pedestrian crossing as an elderly lady stepped off the pavement and started to make her shaky way across the road.
‘I hope your doctor’s referred you for surgery on that hip,’ Amy muttered under her breath, force of habit having her analysing the woman’s gait even as she smiled in response to the thanks the woman mouthed. She could only imagine how much pain the poor woman was in if she was moving that gingerly, clearly needing much more help than the inadequate support of the stick she was using.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a car looming in her rear-view mirror. When she registered just how fast he was approaching, she cringed in anticipation of the squeal of brakes that would come when he realised he had to stop for the crossing…Except he didn’t brake, merely swinging out around her as casually as though he was doing nothing more than passing an unimportant vehicle parked at the side of the road.
Time seemed to stand still for several long seconds but there was a horrific inevitability in the way the other car reached the crossing just as the elderly lady emerged beyond the shelter of Amy’s car right into his path, the driver apparently making no attempt to brake.
At the very last second, the elderly lady seemed to sense what was about to happen and tried to get out of the way. Unfortunately, her painful hip limited her mobility and instead of stepping back into safety, her legs crumpled beneath her and she landed on the road with a thud.
‘Oh, my God!’ Amy shrieked as she flung her door wide, narrowly avoiding stepping into the path of the motorbike that was drawing up beside her. Automatic reflexes had made her reach for her keys and her handbag so that even before she’d reached the frighteningly still figure she’d found her mobile phone and was tapping in the emergency number.
‘Emergency. Which service do you require?’ said the voice in her ear as she sank to her knees beside the elderly woman and reached out to search for a pulse.
‘Ambulance and police, please,’ she answered crisply. ‘There’s been an accident on the pedestrian crossing about a mile south of the hospital…the one almost outside the supermarket. An elderly lady. She’s unconscious but she’s still breathing.’
Amy had been so relieved when her fingers had detected a steady pulse, especially when the poor woman was twisted so uncomfortably. And her impact with the ground had been audible even inside Amy’s car, so she had been fearing the worst…that the woman’s skull had been fractured or her neck had been broken and had killed her instantly. Her obviously broken leg was almost unimportant by comparison.
There was still the possibility that either or both had happened, but for the moment her heart was still beating and she was still breathing, and if Amy could do anything to make sure that continued to happen until the ambulance arrived with all the equipment to protect her compromised systems…
‘Don’t move her!’ ordered a deep voice, only partly muffled by the tinted visor of his helmet as he grabbed her hand and pulled it away from monitoring the thready pulse. ‘If she’s injured her spine, you could paralyse her.’
He flipped up his visor with his free hand and the intensity of his dark gaze meeting hers sent an unexpected jolt of awareness through her that was totally out of place when there was a vulnerable life on the ground between them.
For a moment it was as if the injured woman didn’t exist. She actually saw his pupils widen as his eyes flickered over her face, his dark eyes darkening still further in the involuntary response of a potent male towards a female. His hand tightened unconsciously around hers almost as though he was staking some sort of claim…and for one moment suspended in time all she could think was that she wanted him to remove his helmet so she could see what the rest of his face looked like.
Mortified, she closed her own eyes for a second, reminding herself sternly that this definitely wasn’t the time for age-old courtship preliminaries, even if she had been interested in starting a relationship.
‘I know not to move her,’ Amy said in a voice that trembled just a bit as she retrieved her hand from his gauntleted grasp and returned gentle fingers to the wrinkled skin of the exposed throat. Under that powerful gaze she was finding it unexpectedly difficult to concentrate on explaining what she was doing, even as she silently blessed the television programmes that were educating the general population in emergency lifesaving protocols. ‘I’m a doctor but I’m only monitoring her pulse and respiration until the emergency services get here.’
As if on cue, she heard the sound of approaching sirens.
‘Hear that? They’ll be here in a second and they’ll have oxygen on board and a collar to protect her neck while they put her on a backboard to support her spine,’ she explained, then couldn’t help risking another glance in his direction, only to find that he was still looking at her rather than the victim.
This time the inappropriate shiver of awareness was so strong that she was afraid that he’d see it.
What on earth was going on here? She’d never reacted this way when a man looked at her, not even Edward. In fact, the only person who had been able to make her respond like this…to be aware of every molecule in her body that made her female…had been Zach.
And that was ridiculous.
Obviously, the only reason she’d thought about him—and the way he’d made her feel all those years ago—was because of that stupid conversation about those internet sites and her aborted search last night.
And now this man, with eyes every bit as dark as Zach’s had been, was stirring things inside her that were best left sleeping, especially when she should be concentrating on the unconscious woman under her fingertips.
‘Hey, Doc, have you started coming out looking for work?’ teased the paramedic as he reached her side. ‘Are you trying to do us out of a job?’
‘Just holding the fort while you get your act together, Harry,’ she retorted with a smile for the familiar face as she shifted across to give him access to their patient. ‘Her breathing is obviously being impaired by the position of her head and neck but although it’s rather fast, her pulse is surprisingly strong. She was just about to be run over and tried to step back too quickly on a leg that looked as if it already urgently needed a hip replacement. She just sort of crumpled to the ground and hit her head with a dreadful thump.’
At Harry’s suggestion, she took over setting up IV access to save time while he selected the rest of the equipment he’d need, and then she took responsibility for holding the woman’s head perfectly still while he carefully positioned the collar to protect the woman’s spinal cord. Then they were going to have to straighten her limbs before they could put her on the backboard, checking for breaks and compromised circulation at every stage before they could log-roll her onto it and load her into the ambulance for transportation. Silently, she was worried that the poor woman could easily slip into a coma after such an accident, but it was also a mercy that she was too deeply unconscious to be aware of the pain of her injuries.
Over the paramedic’s shoulder she saw one young policeman trying to impose some sort of order on the rapidly developing traffic chaos while another was scribbling furiously into his notebook as the motorcyclist spoke to him.
His helmet was now propped on one hip, discarded leather gauntlets inside and held in position by an apparently nonchalant arm that ended in a knotted fist that seemed to give mute evidence to his underlying impatience with bureaucratic niceties—or was it an indication of his anger at the callous disregard of the driver who had caused the tragedy?
Amy regretted the fact that his back was turned towards her so that she couldn’t see his face. Not that the back view was anything to sniff at, all long lean legs and narrow waist topped by broad shoulders. Disappointingly, after her memories of Zach, the sleek dark hair was cut close to the owner’s head.
