To Become A Bride. Кэрол Мортимер

hinted at a certain sensuality about Jonas Noble!

      His expression softened. ‘She was.’ He gave an inclination of his head by way of acknowledgement. ‘Now do you intend keeping me locked in here?’ he enquired. ‘Or do you plan on taking me to see your father some time today?’

      At the taunt angry colour heightened her cheeks, and she moved to release the door, the steps sliding automatically to the tarmacked ground. ‘Can you manage your luggage, or would you like me to carry it for you?’ Danie did some taunting of her own.

      His mouth quirked into a half-smile as he bent to retrieve the oversized briefcase from the carpeted floor. ‘I can manage, thanks. And thanks, too, for a good flight,’ he added lightly.

      ‘How would you know it was good? You slept all the way through it!’ she came back tartly.

      He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Not until I knew we were safely up in the air,’ he rejoined. ‘I heard the bit about “non-smoking flight” before I zonked out. I’m afraid my earlier years spent as a junior doctor have meant I can usually sleep anywhere, at any time,’ he explained apologetically.

      Danie didn’t hear any more of what he said after ‘junior doctor’—this man was a doctor? And he was here to see her father? Was Rome sick?

      She found that very hard to believe, had never known her father to have a day’s illness in his life. But that didn’t mean he was well now…

      She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘And what line of medicine did you choose to specialise in, Mr Noble?’ She tried to make her tone of voice interested rather than demanding—although by the guarded look that suddenly came over Jonas Noble’s face, she had a feeling she had failed. Damn!

      ‘I believe it’s called “life”, Danie; it’s the oath all doctors take,’ he returned enigmatically. ‘Is that car waiting for us?’ He indicated the gold-coloured Rolls Royce that was now parked feet away from the plane steps, the attentive Charles standing waiting with the back door open.

      Danie flushed her irritation. ‘For you,’ she corrected tautly. ‘I have a few things to do here before coming over to the house,’ she amended reluctantly.

      She would have liked nothing better than to arrive back at the house with him, to try and find out more about exactly what he was doing here. But, unfortunately, she had the plane to check over and refuelling to see to.

      He nodded dismissively. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’ He moved lightly down the steps, grinning his thanks at Charles as he got into the back of the Rolls.

      Danie stood at the top of the steps and watched the car—and Jonas Noble!—drive away, her thoughts in a turmoil.

      Why did Rome need to see a doctor? Obviously because he was ill, she instantly chided herself.

      But to have a doctor flown out here to see him…! Was her father’s illness that serious?

      Danie suddenly felt unwell herself at the thought of that being the case. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her handsome, fun-loving father.

      But Jonas Noble’s visit certainly appeared ominous…

      ‘I trust you had a comfortable flight?’

      Jonas looked across at his host. The older man had greeted him at the door of the manor house a few minutes earlier, and the two of them were now seated in an elegant sitting-room. He had known what Jerome Summer looked like, of course, as he had seen the other man’s picture in the newspapers several times. But those photographs had only shown Rome Summer’s still boyish handsomeness, despite the fact that he was in his early fifties, and couldn’t possibly hint at the sheer vitality of the man.

      But what did Rome expect him to say in answer to his question? The flight had been fine—it was Rome’s daughter that he hadn’t found comfortable.

      Danie Summer—how could he possibly have known she would be female?—was as prickly as a hedgehog, with all the charm of a herd of stampeding elephants!

      But she was beautiful, another little voice inside his head reminded him.

      Yes, she was—if you managed to get past those prickles and the acidic tongue! Personally, he would as soon not bother.

      ‘Fine, thank you,’ Jonas replied brusquely, waving away the offer of a cup of coffee poured from the pot on the table that stood between the two men. ‘You explained the situation to me on the telephone early yesterday evening,’ he continued in businesslike tones. ‘So perhaps I could carry out my examination, and then we can talk some more?’

      Jerome Summer didn’t move, his expression agonised now, blue eyes clouded with worry. ‘Before you do that, could I just stress, once again, how delicate this situation is—?’

      ‘I’ve already gathered that,’ Jonas assured him dryly. ‘Danie doesn’t know, does she?’ he prompted gently.

      Rome grimaced, shaking his head ruefully. ‘Has my daughter been asking you awkward questions?’

      Jonas shrugged. ‘One or two,’ he confirmed. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ he assured as the other man began to frown, ‘a patient’s confidentiality is guaranteed as far as I’m concerned.’

      Rome shook his head. ‘That won’t stop Danie.’ His frown deepened. ‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have her fly you here. It just seemed the best option at the time—’

      ‘I think it’s a little late in the day to worry about that,’ Jonas cut in. ‘Besides, Danie is your problem, not mine,’ he added firmly. ‘I came here to carry out an examination…?’ he prompted again pointedly.

      The half an hour or so of sleep he had managed to get on the plane had temporarily refreshed him, but he was no longer a young ‘junior doctor’ when a couple of hours sleep grabbed here and there had been enough to keep him going. At the moment the previous night’s lack of rest made him feel every one of his thirty-eight years!

      ‘I don’t mean to sound terse,’ he excused as he realised he had been exactly that. ‘I had a difficult case to deal with last night,’ he explained. ‘And lack of sleep means I’m a little short on patience today!’

      ‘Of course.’ Rome Summer stood up quickly. ‘I’ll explain a little more to you as we go upstairs.’

      Jonas picked up his case of instruments, listening politely to the other man as they ascended the stairs, realising Rome needed to talk, that he found all of this extremely difficult to deal with.

      Jonas sympathised with him, could imagine how the older man must be feeling. For a man who had controlled his world, and that of his family, for the last thirty years, Jonas realised this must all have come as a bit of a shock to Rome Summer. It was something he had no control over whatsoever. But even if the other man’s suspicions proved to be correct, it wasn’t the end of the world. Other people, other families, had gone through this sort of thing before. And would no doubt continue to do so for a long time to come!

      But Rome Summer looked less than capable of dealing with it, Jonas realised a short time later, Rome haggard now as the two men returned to the sitting-room, Jonas’s diagnosis conclusive.

      ‘I just can’t believe it.’ Rome groaned, his face buried in his hands. ‘I had my suspicions, of course—’

      ‘You wouldn’t have telephoned me otherwise,’ Jonas pointed out dryly, handing the other man a cup of the now cool coffee; in the circumstances, cold or not, the caffeine would do the other man good.

      ‘But somehow I didn’t really believe it.’ Rome shook his head dazedly, sipping the coffee without even seeming aware of what he was doing.

      Jonas let the other man sit quietly for several minutes, giving him time to get over his initial shock; no doubt the coffee would help do that, too. Once the other man had accepted the diagnosis as fact, the two of them could get down to talking over the practicalities of what needed