Dr Devereux's Proposal. Margaret McDonagh

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Название Dr Devereux's Proposal
Автор произведения Margaret McDonagh
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408902486



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explore and experience new things, while Lauren was content to remain in Penhally, enjoying her job, her friends and her hobbies, including her painting.

      Unwelcome and worrying thoughts intruded once more. She hadn’t painted much lately and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to face the reasons why. Determinedly, she returned her full attention to the exquisite man before her, a quiver running through her at his thorough inspection, as if he had touched her physically.

      Since midwife KateAlthorp had met Gabriel at Nick’s house in the summer, she had reported that Penhally was in for a treat when the French doctor arrived in their midst. Kate’s comments had caused some of their colleagues to tease Lauren about her soon-to-be neighbour. Lauren had ignored the ribbing. But now she could acknowledge first hand that Kate had not been exaggerating. Dear heaven, the man was gorgeous!

      That Gabriel Devereux would be close by, at home and at work, for the next twelve months was wonderfully thrilling. Already the year ahead was filled with new and unexpected possibilities. Everything feminine within her stood to attention and all the hormones that had been switched off and uninterested since long before her split from Martin now started doing a happy dance like over-enthusiastic cheerleaders. She looked into Gabriel’s eyes, excited by the answering desire she saw there. Oh, yes! She was most definitely interested! She just hoped he was in England alone, uninvolved, and had no wife or girlfriend tucked away at home in France.

      ‘It is kind of you to bring things for the kitchen, Lauren,’ Gabriel said, the dimples forming in his lean cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

      She could drown in that smile. And as for his accent, the way he said her name… He made her tingle all over. His English was perfect but delivered with a soft burr and all the Gallic charm imaginable. There was so much she wanted to learn about him but she reined in her rush of questions, scared that she would frighten him away before he’d even properly arrived. There would be time in the days and weeks ahead to explore the inexplicable and immediate connection she felt with this man. Or so she hoped. Better to play it cool for now.

      ‘It’s no trouble,’ she answered, not sure how she managed to form any words at all, let alone sensible ones. ‘I promised Nick I would make sure you had all you needed.’

      Relaxed and at ease, he folded his arms across his chest, the play of muscle distracting her. ‘Thank you. I am sorry I took you by surprise arriving early.’

      ‘No problem.’ Returning his smile, she couldn’t prevent herself looking over his superb body once more. Oh, it was no problem at all!

      ‘Are you also responsible for airing the house and providing the clean linen and towels?’

      ‘Yes.’ Almost overcome with nervous anticipation, she tucked some strands of hair behind one ear, her hand unsteady. ‘Is everything all right?’

      ‘Very much so. I was planning to ask the solicitor who to thank for making the house feel so welcoming.’

      ‘I’m glad to help,’ she assured him, warmed through and pleased by his thoughtfulness.

      He watched her for a long moment, then glanced at the greyhound who whined and nudged against her legs. ‘And who is your companion?’

      ‘This is Foxy. He lost his owner in the flood and was found distressed after searching the rubble,’ she explained, a catch in her voice as she gently stroked the dog. ‘Both the RSPCA and Lizzie Chamberlain, who runs the local kennels, were overrun with extra work and animals needing help during the crisis. Foxy was always nervous of people, but he knew me and we bonded, so I was happy to give him a home. He’s adjusting but still wary. At least he’s started eating again. He needs time and lots of love.’

      The approval and flash of admiration in Gabriel’s eyes made her feel good. She held her breath as he turned his attention to Foxy. Speaking softly, he hunkered down and held out his hand for the dog to sniff. Calm and patient, he waited for the dog to be comfortable, making no sudden moves. Lauren was surprised and delighted when Foxy inched forward and allowed Gabriel to touch him, something he had permitted few people but her to do in the last ten days. Slowly he was forming a tentative bond with her friends Chloe and Oliver. Foxy’s current reaction and his instinct to trust Gabriel was more than interesting and told her much about this intriguing man.

      As if satisfied with the early progress, Gabriel didn’t push things, moving carefully back and rising before returning his attention to her, causing her heart to pound once more.

      ‘Nick mentioned the flood in an email but I had no idea how bad things were. I was shocked when I drove through town.’ He paused, a pout of consideration shaping his mouth and giving her all manner of wicked ideas. ‘Are you busy this afternoon, Lauren? Do you have plans?’

      ‘No. Why?’ She was filled with sudden hope that she might be able to spend more time with Gabriel. She wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

      ‘I was going to make myself a late lunch. Will you join me? It would be good to talk, to learn more about Penhally and the surgery…and what has gone on in the last couple of weeks.’

      Not wanting to appear as shamefully eager as she felt, she forced herself not to rush her agreement. Maybe Gabriel’s reasons for asking her to linger weren’t all she had hoped for, but at this point she would accept any opportunity to enjoy his company. Who knew where things might lead?

      ‘OK.’ She cursed the breathlessness of her voice but could do nothing to temper her excitement. ‘I can stay a while longer.’

      At Lauren’s confirmation, Gabriel felt a wash of relief course through him and he expelled the breath he had not realised he had been holding. He was nowhere near ready to let her go. This was ridiculous. He felt like some gauche sixteen-yearold boy with a crush, rather than the thirty-six-year-old man he really was. Then Lauren looked over him once more and his body instantly heated and tightened in response, as if her touch had been an actual caress. He hoped the loose towel hid the evidence of the arousing effect she had on him.

      ‘Give me five minutes to get dressed,’ he requested as he turned away and headed to the door.

      ‘Gabriel?’

      Her soft voice halted him and he glanced back. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I could prepare a quick meal while you’re gone,’ she offered.

      ‘Are you sure?’

      Her head bobbed in assent. ‘It’s no trouble. Is there anything you don’t like?’

      Dieu! He couldn’t imagine anything Lauren could suggest that he wouldn’t like, but he managed to focus his attention on food. ‘Mushrooms, shellfish and red meat,’ he informed her, catching her surprised smile.

      ‘Me, too.’ Mischief gleamed in her eyes. ‘And I confess I’m not keen on boiled cabbage, tapioca or mushy peas either.’

      ‘Believe me, Lauren, you are not alone!’ Chuckling, he left the room.

      ‘I certainly hope not—not any more.’

      Had he really heard those final whispered words? And could they mean what he hoped they did? He was confused by his instinctive response to this woman. It was unlike him. And that was disturbing. He’d not been so spontaneously attracted to anyone for years—if ever. The timing was unfortunate. He had never considered such a thing happening to him, especially not while part of his world was in turmoil and he had decisions to make about his future. Coming here was meant to give him space to declutter his life, not add more complications to it.

      But he couldn’t deny the way his body had reacted to the sight, scent and sound of Lauren Nightingale. Anxious to dress and return to the kitchen as quickly as possible, Gabriel hurried up the stairs. Had he dreamed it all? What if the sizzle of electricity between himself and Lauren had been a figment of his overactive imagination? What if it wasn’t? He was here for a year. To work. To think. Did he even want to consider any kind of involvement? He hadn’t been at the Manor House an hour and already he was feeling alive at an unexpected awareness, filled with a sense of wary excitement