Snowkissed!: The Midwife's Marriage Proposal. Fiona Harper

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘SALLY JENNER! I am so pleased to finally meet you.’ Emma’s smile was warm with welcome. ‘I’ve heard such good things about you and we badly need an extra midwife. You are going to be everyone’s most popular person.’

      ‘Thanks. It’s good to be here.’ Sally smiled at the labour ward sister, but nothing could subdue the nervous fluttering in her stomach. The nerves had been there from the moment she’d made the decision to leave Australia and return home.

      From the moment she’d known she would be seeing Tom Hunter again.

      She’d prepared herself for this moment for seven years.

      But now it was here she was suddenly terrified that she’d let herself down. Reveal something that she didn’t want to reveal.

       Feel something that she didn’t want to feel.

      What would he look like now? Had her memory exaggerated his masculine appeal? Could any man truly be the god she’d believed him to be?

      ‘Anything you want to know, just ask me,’ Emma said cheerfully, oblivious to Sally’s anxiety. ‘I know you trained in this hospital, but you’ve been away a while and some things might have changed so I’ll give you a quick tour. We have two operating theatres, six traditional delivery rooms and four “home” rooms, as we call them. In other words, they’re supposed to make people feel that they’re actually in their own bedrooms.’

      Sally laughed. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’

      ‘Well, my bedroom is buried under a ton of unwashed laundry and books that I intend to read at some point and haven’t got round to yet,’ Emma confessed cheerfully, ‘so the rooms certainly don’t look like my home. But I can dream.’

      She pushed open a door and Sally followed her inside.

      The room had a large double bed and a sofa covered in pretty scatter cushions. There were also magazines and a music system.

      Sally gave a nod. ‘Nice. Cosy.’

      Emma shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a compromise between giving birth at home and in hospital. Now, come and see the birthing pool.’

      They left the room and Emma opened another door and flicked on some lights. ‘We have two, but the other one is in use at the moment.’

      Sally walked into the room and looked at the pool. ‘You do a lot of water births?’ She knew that some of her medical colleagues had questioned the safety of water births. ‘The consultants are comfortable with that?’

      Emma gave a wry smile. ‘Not all of them. The three older ones much prefer to just whip a woman into Theatre or yank the baby out with forceps the moment her labour starts to take longer than the books say it should. But attitudes are changing as younger consultants join the team.’ She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re ever planning on having a baby here, Tom Hunter is your man. He’s young but he’s brilliant. He has amazingly good instincts and nerves of steel. Unlike some I could mention, he isn’t frightened into C-sectioning everyone.’ Her tone was warm. ‘He thinks that a woman should be allowed to deliver by herself whenever possible and he does his best to let that happen.’

      Sally slid a hand over the edge of the birthing pool, careful to hide her expression.

      The knowledge that Tom was regarded as some sort of hero in the delivery suite clashed violently with her own negative attitude to the man.

      She didn’t want to admire him. It would make it even harder to manage her emotions.

      ‘So he approves of the pool?’

      ‘For labour, but not delivery,’ Emma told her, leading the way out of the room and back down the corridor. ‘He also approves of aromatherapy, relaxation techniques and breathing.’

      Realizing that some sort of response was expected, Sally managed a smile. ‘He sounds amazing.’

      ‘He’s very good with the women. Very skilled.’

      Sally felt her insides twist viciously but kept her expression neutral. She knew exactly how skilled Tom Hunter was with women.

      Swiftly she changed the subject. ‘So I’ll be working on the labour ward?’

      ‘That’s where we need you for now. We all move around the unit at times, and we try to give a woman a midwife that she knows, but you have a lot of labour ward experience and that’s the most important thing.’ Emma pushed open the door to the staffroom. ‘And this is the most important room on the labour ward. Better take a good look. You won’t get to see much of it.’

      Sally walked over to the window and stared at the mountains, lost in their beauty, longing to be out there, walking or climbing. For her, life was a constant battle between her love of the outdoors and her love of midwifery.

      She heard a heavy, male tread behind her and froze.

      Even without looking she knew it was him.

       She felt him.

      They shared a connection that was beyond the physical. It had always been that way with them.

      He’d truly been her other half. Until he’d torn them apart.

      ‘Hi, Tom. You’re just in time for a coffee and an introduction to our new midwife.’ Emma’s voice was bright and cheerful, like sunshine playing innocently in front of an approaching storm.

      Reminding herself that she’d been rehearsing this exact moment for years, Sally turned, the expression in her green eyes cool and totally devoid of emotion as she brought into play all the skills she’d carefully developed.

      He stood in the doorway, powerful legs spread apart in an arrogant pose, his blue eyes fixed on her with shimmering incredulity.

      Sally felt the past slide over her like a suffocating cloak and with a determined effort she thrust it aside, reminding herself that the past was all about yesterdays and that she was only interested in today and tomorrow.

      And neither was going to feature this man, even if he was straight out of a female fantasy.

       And he was.

      He’d always been indecently good-looking, she thought numbly, but age and maturity had added a hard edge to his masculinity that would make even the most cynical, man-wary female catch her breath.

       And the combination of jet-black hair and blue eyes was a killer.

      Resolutely she reined in her feelings, holding them close, reminding herself of the price of loving this man.

      It was high. Too high.

      She’d paid it once with interest and she wasn’t prepared to pay it again.

      So she held that dark gaze steadily and noted the shock that he couldn’t quite conceal with a flicker of feminine satisfaction.

      He hadn’t expected her to come home.

      But she had. And he was going to have to live with that.

      Like it or not, she was back.

      And she was staying.

      ‘Hello, Tom.’ Her voice was cool and formal. Not a tremor, not a shake, not a flicker of emotion. She was proud of herself. ‘It’s been a long time.’

      Tom braced his shoulders and tried to counter the shock wave that pulsed through his body.

      He’d always known that one day Sally Jenner would walk into his life again. That he’d be forced to stare his past in the face.

       Acknowledge the guilt.

      It had been seven years and yet