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It was gone seven by the time they drew up outside the hotel. Ben cut the engine, shrugging when Zoë looked questioningly at him. ‘I just want to check that nothing untoward has happened with regard to the reception. Ross told me he’d cancelled everything but you never know.’
‘Still set on being the perfect best man?’ Zoë said lightly, but he heard the tension in her voice and guessed that she was afraid it was merely an excuse to prolong their time together.
Was it? he wondered suddenly. And if so, why? He didn’t want her back—no way on earth would he wish for that! It had taken him months to get over her and he wasn’t going through that kind of hell again. He’d done what he’d wanted to do, spent the best part of the day with her, and come through it unscathed, so why did he have this niggling feeling that they still had unfinished business? What else did he need to prove? That he was so immune to her he could spend the night with her and walk away in the morning without any regrets?
‘I want to be sure that I’ve carried out my duties to the very best of my ability,’ he told her, reeling from the thought.
‘Such dedication! I am impressed.’
Zoë laughed and Ben breathed a sigh of relief when it broke the spell. Zoë may have hurt him, but there was no way that he would use her to his own ends like that.
The receptionist must have spotted them coming in because she immediately hurried into the office and reappeared with the manager in tow. Ben’s heart sank when he saw how uncomfortable they both looked as he and Zoë approached the desk. He could only conclude that some mishap had occurred relating to the wedding reception. However, the man ignored him and addressed Zoë.
‘I’m terribly sorry, Dr Frost, but there’s a problem with your room.’
‘What sort of problem?’ Zoë asked, glancing at the receptionist, who was doing her best to avoid their eyes.
‘Unfortunately, a guest on the floor above forgot to turn off the bath taps and the water came through the ceiling of your room.’ The manager looked suitably repentant. ‘Sadly, the room is too badly damaged for you to spend the night there so I took the liberty of having your belongings moved.’
He lifted a key off its hook and handed it to her. ‘Fortunately, we had a cancellation so we were able to move you to a suite. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, Dr Frost. It’s our most luxurious accommodation. And by way of apology for the inconvenience you’ve suffered, we would like to offer you and a guest a complimentary dinner tonight.’
Ben glanced at the key Zoë was holding as the manager scuttled away. All the keys had name tags attached to them and he could read the tag attached to this one without any difficulty. His eyes rose to Zoë’s and he was unable to control the smile that twitched the corners of his mouth.
‘They say every cloud has a silver lining. If the wedding hadn’t been called off, you could have found yourself sleeping on a park bench.’
‘Instead of which I’ll be sleeping in the Honeymoon Suite.’ Zoë looked at the key then burst out laughing. ‘I don’t believe this is happening!’
‘You will when you get to sleep in that fabulous bed,’ Ben assured her.
‘You’ve seen the room?’ she exclaimed and he sobered abruptly.
‘Yes. I came with Ross when he booked it for him and Heather. The manager showed it to us then.’
He took a quick breath but the image of Zoë lying in that huge old-fashioned bed with its muslin canopy filled his head to the exclusion of everything else. It was the room he would have chosen to spend the night in if they’d been getting married, he realised, and the thought was too painful to bear.
‘It sounds lovely,’ she said softly and he heard an echo of what he was feeling in her voice.
His gaze locked with hers and he felt a shiver run through him. Zoë may have rejected him two years ago but she still wanted him. He could see it in her eyes, see the longing, the yearning, and he understood how she felt because he felt it too. Oh, he hadn’t lived like a monk these past two years—far from it. He’d been out with a lot of women, even slept with a few, and it had been fine in a way. However, each and every time he had found himself comparing them to Zoë, and unfavourably too.
He needed to break the cycle, forget what he and Zoë had had, and this may be the only way to do it. If he slept with her tonight, he could rid himself of the last emotional ties. It wouldn’t be using her, either, because he could tell it was what she needed too. Zoë needed to draw a line under the past the same as he did.
Reaching out, he captured her hand. ‘It’s a beautiful room, Zoë, the perfect place for two lovers to spend a night. I only wish we could spend tonight there. You and me. Together. It could be our swansong, the perfect ending to what we once meant to each other.’
Soft light filled the room, casting shadows into the corners. Dinner had been served and eaten, although neither of them had done justice to the delicious meal. Zoë caught a glimpse of herself in the window as she drew the curtains and was surprised by how calm she looked, how in control. Inside she was a mess, anticipation making her nerves tingle, her blood heat, her body tremble as though she had a fever. Maybe she did, too, and that’s why she had agreed to this. Spending the night with Ben for any reason was madness: she knew it and so must he.
She spun round to tell him that she had changed her mind and stopped. Ben was sitting on the sofa, his eyes closed, his face looking set even in repose. He was as worried as she was about what they were planning and the realisation comforted her in a strange way. Ben was under no illusions. He knew this night would mark the end for them.
The thought left her feeling empty, but she had learned a long time ago how to conquer her emotions. She went over to the couch, sat down and took Ben’s hand in hers. His eyelids flickered although he didn’t open his eyes. Maybe he needed a second or two more to prepare himself, and she understood. In that respect they were perfectly in tune.
Her heart filled with warmth and if she was honest it also filled with love but that was the most dangerous of all emotions and one she rarely acknowledged. Sliding her fingers between his, she let her palm rest against his, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the shape and strength of his fingers—so different to her own. Ben had such beautiful hands and she had always loved to have him touch her, stroke her, caress her…
Her breath caught on an audible hiss and his eyes opened. Zoë felt a shaft of desire run through her when she saw the expression they held. Ben wanted her. He wanted to make her his and have her make him hers. He wanted it so badly that she could feel his desire for her swirling around them as they sat there, side by side, their fingers entwined.
‘Are you sure about this, Zoë? Really sure?’ His tone was filled with passion and tenderness in equal measure. Zoë’s heart swelled because it was more than she’d expected and far more than she deserved.
‘Yes.’ Her tone was cool and she felt relieved when she heard it. She was still in control, still able to function on other levels instead of on only the most basic. ‘It’s what I want, Ben, but are you sure it’s what you want?’
‘Yes. I’m sure.’ He leant forward and brushed her mouth with his lips. ‘It’s what I need to do.’
He deepened the kiss, effectively cutting short any further discussion, although Zoë would have been hard-pressed to string two words together. It felt as though her brain had stopped functioning, thoughts flitting about her head in no particular order. Her nerve endings were working fine, though, messages zipping back and forth, allowing her to enjoy every moment of the kiss, to savour their closeness, to revel in the desire that had risen inside her like a hot tide.
She gave a little murmur as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down so that she could kiss him back with equal fervour. She heard him groan as her lips parted, felt the hot sweet rush of pleasure when his tongue slid inside her mouth and groaned too because it was an overture to what would come later. When his hands slid down her sides, following the curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, she shuddered. Just the feel of his hands through her clothes was enough to incite her passion.
He drew back, resting his forehead against hers as he dragged in several rough breaths that made his chest rise and fall enticingly against her breasts. Zoë could feel her nipples harden as the muscles in his torso brushed against them, and sighed. She’d always been embarrassingly responsive where Ben was concerned and nothing had changed.
‘Wow! I know I should come up with something more erudite, but that sums it up better than anything else. A great big fat wow!’
‘Then I suppose wow will have to do.’ Zoë laughed, wondering how she’d forgotten what fun Ben could be even in the throes of passion. Tilting back her head, she regarded him through narrowed eyes, enjoying the fact that she felt comfort¬ able enough to tease him. ‘Think about this very carefully before you reply. Was the kiss as good as it used to be?’
‘Better,’ he said firmly, taking her back into his arms and holding her so close that she could feel his heart beating in counterpoint to hers. ‘The fact that we’re no longer under such pressure to make our relationship work makes all the difference.’
Zoë wasn’t sure what to make of that idea but he didn’t give her time to dwell on it. When he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, she relaxed against him, giving herself up to the delight of being in his arms again. He kissed every inch of her face and her neck then started to work his way down her body, unhooking buttons and unzipping zips, easing her out of her clothes with so little fuss that it was a moment before she realised that all she had on was a pair of panties and they were soon dispensed with.
‘You’re very good at this undressing lark,’ she whispered, feeling decidedly overexposed seeing as Ben was still wearing his clothes.
‘Aren’t I just?’ His handsome face filled with laughter as he planted a kiss on her nose. ‘I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘Thanks to all the women you’ve undressed lately,’ she muttered, not appreciating the thought of Ben and a series of unknown women in various states of undress.
‘No, thanks to all the patients I’ve undressed.’ He kissed her again, looking a little smug about getting a rise out of her.
‘You have nurses to do that for you,’ she retorted, resenting his teasing and what had prompted it. She had no right to feel jealous at the thought of him and other women when she had rejected him, but she did.
‘I do.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘But I’ve always preferred a hands-on approach, if you remember?’
She remembered all right, recalled in glorious detail what his hands could do—exactly what they were doing now. Zoë closed her eyes as she felt his clever fingers stroking her skin and setting off a whole chain of reactions. When he ran the tip of his finger down the hollow between her breasts, she gasped. When he let it trail across her right nipple, she moaned. When it found her belly button and dipped in and out, she wriggled invitingly because she knew where it would be heading next.
The thought sent a rush of desire coursing through her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in very a long time. Although she had no intention of letting Ben know it, she hadn’t slept with anyone else in the past two years. She’d had offers, of course—several highly personable men, doctors she worked with in Paris, had asked her out, but she had refused their invitations. She’d told herself that she hadn’t wanted any complications in her life, but now she realised the truth was far more complex: she hadn’t wanted anyone except Ben.
Tears filled her eyes as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the huge old-fashioned bed with a gentleness that spoke volumes about the man he was. Ben had loved her, cared for her, wanted only for her to be happy. She’d known that and had fought against it. If she had accepted what he’d wanted to give her, she would never have been able to leave him, never been able to bear it if he’d left her.
She had rejected him because she’d been afraid, not because she hadn’t loved him. Everyone she had ever loved had let her down—her mother, her father, everyone—and she’d been terrified that Ben would do the same. She had tried to explain that to him, but it had been too difficult for him to understand and in the end she’d had no choice but to leave him rather than run the risk of being hurt again. However, as he stripped off his clothes and came to lie beside her under the canopy of muslin clouds, Zoë knew that he was the only man she would ever love. She had given Ben her heart even if he didn’t know it. And if she couldn’t have Ben, she didn’t want anyone else.
CHAPTER FOUR
March
‘THIS guy’s got a ruptured spleen. Get on to the surgical team and tell them we need someone down here now, not in an hour’s time!’
Ben rapped out the order, ignoring the look his staff exchanged. His temper had been on a knife edge for weeks and he didn’t need a psychologist to tell him why. He’d been deluding himself by thinking he could draw a line under the past by sleeping with Zoë. What it had done had been to arouse a lot of emotions he’d thought he had buried. If only he’d had the sense to realise the risk he’d been taking.
He gritted his teeth because he refused to go down the if-only route again. He’d made a mistake and that was that. Now he had to get on with his life. Turning to Jo Morris, the senior staff nurse on duty that day, he deliberately moderated his tone.
‘Can you check how the passenger in that car is doing, Jo? She was complaining of chest pains when she was brought in. If they haven’t settled down, she’s going to need an ECG.’
‘Will do.’
Jo gave him a smile before she hurried out of Resus, leaving him feeling guiltier than ever. Although there may have been a few funny looks exchanged, everyone had put up with his bad temper with remarkably good grace. It made him realise how lucky he was to have such a tolerant group of people around him.
Unlooping his stethoscope from around his neck, he bent over the patient again. Brian Roberts had been cycling to work when he had been hit by a car. According to an eyewitness, the vehicle had rammed straight into him. Brian had suffered a range of injuries, the most serious being a ruptured spleen. He was losing a lot of blood and Ben was anxious to get him to Theatre as quickly as possible.
‘What did Surgical have to say?’ he asked when Adam Sanders, their senior house officer, came hurrying back.
‘They’ve promised that s-someone will be here in the next five minutes,’ Adam informed him, stammering a little in case Ben thought that wasn’t soon enough. He’d been on the receiving end of Ben’s tongue for most of the day, a fact that Ben now bitterly regretted.
‘Excellent. Obviously, you’ve managed to gee them up where others have failed,’ he said heartily, pleased to see that Adam immediately perked up. He nodded to the patient, wanting to continue smoothing the young doctor’s ruffled feathers. ‘Have a listen to his chest. I think the right lung sounds a bit dodgy—what do you think?’
Adam turned bright pink at having his opinion canvassed and listened intently to the patient’s chest. ‘It sounds a bit rough to me, too. Maybe there’s a build-up of fluid,’ he suggested, emboldened by Ben’s more reasonable attitude.
‘I agree.’ Ben nodded. ‘He took a real knock when he came off his bike, which accounts for the ruptured spleen. If a rib was fractured as well, it could have caused bleeding into the pleural cavity.’ He turned toAbby Blake, another of their nurses, who was standing off to one side. ‘I’d like a chest drain set, please, Abby.’
It didn’t take long to draw off the excess fluid that had collected in the pleural cavity. Ben had just finished when the surgical reg arrived and whisked the patient away, tutting his displeasure as though it was ED’s fault that there’d been a delay. Ben stripped off his gloves and tossed them into the bin.
‘That was a good job, folks. Thank you.’
‘Oh, so we’re out of the doghouse now, are we?’ Abby piped up. She grinned at him. ‘About time too. We were this close to mutiny.’
She held her first finger and thumb a scant quarter inch apart and Ben laughed.
‘Am I supposed to be worried? Now, if you were this close.’ He pressed his thumb and finger tightly together. ‘I might be really concerned, but not when I have so much leeway!’
Everyone laughed and it went a long way to restoring the harmony that was such an important part of them working as a team. Ben made himself a promise that he would stop behaving like a jerk from now on as he left Resus. There was no point regretting what had happened with Zoë. He’d taken a chance and it hadn’t paid off. He’d coped with worse and survived to tell the tale, too. One thing was certain: Zoë wasn’t wasting her time thinking about him.
It took Zoë almost three hours to drive from the airport to Dalverston and she was exhausted by the time she got there. An accident on the M6 motorway had caused a huge tailback of traffic and it was a relief when she reached her exit. She parked in the hotel’s car park and hurried inside, filling in the registration card the receptionist gave her with a hand that trembled from a mixture of tiredness and emotion. So much had happened since the night she’d stayed here with Ben.
Fear ran coldly through her and she hastily took the key off the receptionist, shaking her head when the girl asked if she needed a porter to deal with her luggage. All she’d brought with her was an overnight case and she could manage that herself. She took the lift to the third floor and let herself into the room, barely glancing around to check that everything was as it should be. She was here and that was the main thing, although what happened from here on was a question she couldn’t answer. It all depended on Ben and how he reacted to what she had to tell him. It was a lot to expect of him, probably too much bearing in mind what had gone on before. But he was the only person she could ask for help. If he refused, she had no idea what she was going to do.
Ben was stepping out of the shower the following morning when the phone rang and for a moment he was tempted to ignore it. It was his day off, the first one he’d had for weeks, and he really didn’t want to have to go in to work. He sighed as he snatched a towel off the rail. If he didn’t answer it, he’d spend the day wondering how the department was coping. Talk about being trapped between a rock and a hard place!
‘Ben Nicholls.’ He hunched his shoulder to keep the receiver against his ear while he rubbed himself dry. If it was the hospital, he would need to get there asap. The kind of injuries they dealt with weren’t the sort that could wait for any length of time.
‘Ben, it’s Zoë.’
The receiver slid off his shoulder and landed with a crash on the floor. Ben cursed as he picked it up. He must be hallucinating. He could have sworn the caller had said she was Zoë.
‘Sorry about that. I dropped the receiver,’ he said briskly, dismissing the idea. No way would Zoë be phoning him at this hour of the morning… Correction: no way would Zoë be phoning him at any hour of the day.
‘It’s OK. Look, Ben, if I’ve caught you at a bad time I can phone back later, but I really need to speak to you. Is there any chance that we can meet up sometime today?’
Ben’s breath caught because there was no mistaking Zoë’s voice this time. ‘It really is you, Zoë?’
‘Of course it is. So when can we meet? I wouldn’t pester you, Ben, but it’s imperative that I talk to you.’
Ben frowned when he heard how uptight she sounded. It was obvious that something must have happened to bring her back to Dalverston, although he had no idea what it could be. ‘Of course we can meet. I’ve got today off as it happens so name the time and the place and I’ll be there.’
‘Ten o’clock in the lounge of the hotel,’ she said quickly and he knew that she must have rehearsed her answer in advance.
‘Fine. Can you tell me what this is all about? I mean, it’s a bit sudden, you turning up like this…’
‘I’d prefer to wait until later. Ten o’clock it is.’
She hung up before he could finish what he’d been saying, leaving him feeling more perplexed than ever. The fact that Zoë had flown back to England to arrange this meeting didn’t make sense. After all, he’d had no contact with her since December. There’d been no phone calls, no notes, not even a Christmas card—nada. The fact that he hadn’t phoned or written to her either was by the by—he wasn’t foolish enough to do that.
No, Zoë had made it clear after that night they’d spent together that she didn’t want to see him again, which made her arrival all the more puzzling. What could be so urgent that she needed to speak to him when she’d ignored him for the past three months?
Ben blinked as the words resounded inside his head: it had been three months since he and Zoë had slept together. Was it possible that she had come to tell him she was pregnant?
Shock coursed through every vein in his body, turned his legs to jelly, and he collapsed onto the bed. He hadn’t used a condom that night. Zoë had told him that she was on the Pill to regulate her menstrual cycle and there was no need for them to take extra precautions. However, everyone knew that the Pill wasn’t one hundred per cent effective—no method of contraception was apart from abstinence. Maybe, just maybe, their night together had resulted in a baby, their baby, his and Zoë’s child.
Ben closed his eyes as his head began to reel. He could barely take it in and knew he needed time to think about it, then realised in a flash there was nothing to think about. If Zoë was having his baby, it was the most wonderful thing that could have happened. One thing was certain, too: he intended to be there for his child every step of the way!
Zoë chose her seat with care, opting for a table in the corner from where she could see the door. She needed to be in control if she hoped to get through this meeting and didn’t need any surprises like Ben appearing without her realising it…
Her breath caught when she saw him coming in. Despite the chill in the air, all he was wearing was a thin sweater and jeans. Had he dragged on the first clothes that had come to hand? Dressed in a hurry because he hadn’t wanted to keep her waiting? It was so typical of his thoughtfulness, of the caring man he was, and the thought eased some of her tension a little. Ben wouldn’t let her down. She knew it.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she said quietly as he sat down. ‘I’ve ordered coffee. It should be here in a minute.’
‘Fine.’ He leant forward and she could see the lines of tension on his face. ‘What’s this all about, Zoë?’
‘Let’s wait for the coffee, shall we? I could do with a cup and I’m sure you could too.’
Ben couldn’t hide his impatience as he subsided back in the chair, but he didn’t push her and she was grateful for that. It seemed to take for ever before the waitress arrived with their tray, although in truth it was only a few minutes. Zoë picked up the heavy silver pot and poured them both a cup of the steaming brew, automatically adding milk and sugar to Ben’s cup before handing it to him. He had a sweet tooth, something she had often teased him about.
‘Thanks.’
He took a sip of his coffee then set the cup and saucer on the table and rubbed his hands together. Zoë realised with a start how nervous he looked and wished that she hadn’t added to the pressure by making him wait those extra few minutes. Putting down her own cup, she sat up straighter. It would be easier for them both if she told him what she wanted rather than draw it out.
‘Are you pregnant, Zoë?’
The question caught her off guard. Her eyes flew to his face but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was deliberately masking his feelings and the thought made her shiver because it proved that the dynamics of their relationship had changed dramatically. The Ben she remembered would never have been so guarded around her; she would have known immediately how he was feeling. Obviously she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought and may have been wrong to assume that he would help her.
Fear rushed through her and she half rose, but Ben was too quick for her. He caught her hand, shaking his head when she tried to free herself. ‘I’m not letting you run away without answering my question. I may have got it completely wrong, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. You’re having my baby, aren’t you, Zoë? Why else would you have come here to see me?’
Zoë sank back into the chair when she heard the pain in his voice. She had hurt him badly and it was the one thing she had tried to avoid. All she could do now was be truthful and hope that in some small way it would make up for what she had done. Raising her head, she looked him in the eyes.
‘Yes, I’m pregnant, and, before you ask, Ben, it is your child. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. I haven’t slept with anyone else since we split up.’
A dozen different emotions chased across his face before he got himself under control. ‘I see. So you must be, what? Eleven, twelve weeks?’
