Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby (9 page)

Jonathan was pulling off his shoes and top.

‘Where did he go in?’

The distraught girl pointed. ‘He dived in over the side. I think he hit his head. Please, Johnny, help him.’

Jonathan balanced himself on the side of the railings before diving into the water. Everyone waited in silence as he surfaced and looked around wildly. Then he dived again and again, each time coming up and shaking his head. Finally, just as some of the other men were preparing to join him in the water, he rose to the surface again. This time he was holding a body in his arms. Rose held her breath as willing hands hauled them back onto the deck. The man Jonathan had pulled from the sea didn’t seem to be breathing. There were cries of distress and alarm. The girl who had called out dropped to her knees and cradled the head of the man in her lap.

‘David,’ she cried. ‘Please wake up. You have to wake up.’

Rose pushed her gently aside. ‘Let me have a look,’ she said quietly. By this time a sopping-wet Jonathan had joined her on deck. She bent her head and breathed into the unconscious man’s mouth. One twice, fifteen times. She watched to see if his chest would move, but it didn’t. She looked up to find Jonathan’s eyes on hers. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was. They would have to get the water out of his lungs before they could get him breathing again.

Together, they worked to pump the water from his lungs until, to their relief, David coughed, bringing up a large amount of water.

‘Has someone called for an ambulance?’ Jonathan asked.

‘I have,’ Ashley replied.

‘Okay, I need a hand to get him into the little boat,’ Jonathan said. ‘Tell the ambulance to meet us at the jetty.’

David had regained consciousness, but looked confused and bewildered. His head was bleeding copiously. Jonathan examined the wound with gentle fingers. ‘It’s pretty superficial,’ he said. ‘Does anyone have anything we could use to stop the bleeding?’

Rose ripped a piece of fabric from her dress and used the material to staunch the wound. Oh, well, as Summer had pointed out, it
had
seen better days.

‘What happened?’ David moaned.

‘You idiot,’ his girlfriend cried out, before bending over and hugging him. ‘You could have killed yourself. If it hadn’t been for Jonathan and his friend, you’d be dead. Don’t you ever do that to me again.’

Rose touched her on the shoulder. ‘David’s going to be fine, but we still need to get him to hospital. Inhaling sea water isn’t the best thing for a person’s lungs. Is there a medical kit on board? I’d like to put a proper bandage on his head.’

A medical kit appeared in Jonathan’s hand. He quickly found a bandage and wrapped it around the piece of cloth from Rose’s dress. It was crude, but it would do until the ambulance arrived.

Rose led David’s distraught girlfriend to the side, while Jonathan and some of the other men lifted the small boat onto the deck and laid him inside. Then Jonathan looked at her, so she moved forward and stepped into the boat.

‘As soon as we get this lowered, I’ll join you,’ Jonathan said.

Rose nodded and hiking her skirt up settled herself in
the boat beside the injured man. In the distance she could hear the wailing of an ambulance.

As soon as the dingy was back in the water, Jonathan let himself down the ladder and joined her. He started the outboard motor and headed the boat back towards land. Rose kept a close eye on David’s vital signs, but it seemed as if he was going to be okay. Jonathan was still drenched to the skin but showed no sign of discomfort.

When they reached the shore, the ambulance crew took over. They asked a couple of questions and Jonathan brought them up to date. Soon the ambulance was speeding away with David on board.

‘Well, that’s one way of ending a party,’ Jonathan said grimly, watching the ambulance disappear. ‘I guess he’s going to have a sore head in the morning. I don’t suppose you want to go back?’

‘Not on your life,’ Rose said vehemently. Then she could have bitten her tongue. She softened her voice. ‘Look, it was kind of you to ask me to the party, but all this…’ she waved her hand in the general direction of the yacht’…is not really my cup of tea. I’m sure your friends are great but, well, to be honest with you, I think I’d rather be out for a walk and then curl up with a good book. I know it all sounds very boring, but it’s what I like.’ She smiled. ‘An added bonus is that I don’t spend too much of my time rescuing my friends after they’ve jumped into the water under the influence and bashed their heads.’

‘Okay, then. Look, no one is expecting you back home for another few hours so why don’t we spend the rest of the day together and you can give me another chance? We can do whatever you want to do.’

‘Slum it, you mean?’

Jonathan looked offended. ‘I wouldn’t consider it slumming. For some crazy reason, Rose Taylor, everything you do interests me. I’d also like to show you my other side.’ He grinned and Rose’s heart flipped. She couldn’t believe he was really interested in her. She so wasn’t his type and that was okay, it wasn’t as if there could ever be anything between them, even if she didn’t have this awful thing in her head. And even if he was the most exciting, gorgeous man she had ever met. Anyway, when he realised she truly wasn’t kidding about her life, she wouldn’t see him for dust. The thought sent her heart crashing to her boots. However awful the day had been so far, she wasn’t ready for it to come to an end.

‘When do you have to be back?’ he asked.

‘I’m not expected back until later tonight. One of Mum’s friends is coming around for a visit later, and she’s offered to help Mum get Dad into bed.’

‘I could do with a change of clothes. How would you like to see my country house?’ Jonathan grinned at her.

Rose pulled a face. ‘Of course you have two houses. Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘Er, two houses here, plus the family home. I’m afraid there are another couple abroad.’ He held up his hands. ‘Nothing to do with me. My father collects houses like other people collect hats.’

‘What? And just passes them on to you?’

Jonathan looked offended again. ‘He gave me the town house. I admit that. Simply to avoid inheritance tax. But the one I’m planning to take you to is all mine. I think you’ll find it interesting. Come on, what do you say? In fact, I’d really like your opinion. Ashley tells me I should decorate, but that’s not really my forte and I haven’t a clue what to do.’

‘Why don’t you pay an interior designer to do it? Their taste is bound to be much more like yours.’ But she couldn’t help feeling curious. What kind of house did Jonathan like to call home?

‘Okay, then,’ she capitulated. ‘Why not? But I’m warning you, I’ll tell you truly what I think—no messing around. I have to be honest, your town house is not my cup of tea.’ She had seen it once when she had brought over some urgent letters for Jonathan to sign. The opulent interior hadn’t seemed to fit with the Jonathan she was getting to know.

Jonathan’s grin grew wider. ‘To tell you the truth, it’s not mine either. That’s what happened when I let an interior designer loose—that was my cousin’s idea—not mine by the way. It’s like living in a boutique. Or a hotel. I’m not going to risk that again.’

So a medical secretary, a nurse, now an interior designer. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be taking on the role of housekeeper too.

Once they had flown back to London the drive took just under an hour. Jonathan drove fast, but he was a careful driver and Rose settled back and watched the countryside flash past. She still wasn’t sure what she was doing or, more to the point, what Jonathan wanted from her.

Eventually he turned into a long sweeping driveway. Instead of following the driveway, Jonathan pulled up outside a small house close to the gates. It was a typical gatehouse of the type Rose had seen at the gates of every stately home she had ever visited—as a fee-paying visitor, that was.

‘Here we are,’ Jonathan said as he switched off the ignition. ‘We can go up to the main house and say hello to Mary later. She’s the cook.’ His eyes softened. ‘Actually,
she’s a damn sight more than a cook. She’s lived in the house since before my mother died. She’s been like a second mother to me.’

He opened the door to the gatehouse and stood aside for Rose to enter. There was a small hallway, not much bigger than the one in her parents’ house. To the left was a sitting room. It was furnished simply with deep leather sofas and a couple of side tables. There was an open fireplace and in front of it a worn but beautiful rug. All along the side were bookshelves, and directly opposite where they were standing a window seat overlooked the garden. On the walls were more paintings like the ones in Jonathan’s consulting rooms. The house was unexpected and a delight. Rose instantly fell in love with the room.

‘There’s another sitting room through here and a dining room and a kitchen. Upstairs there are three bedrooms.’

Whatever Rose had expected, it wasn’t this. Somehow she’d imagined something full of boys’ toys, not this cosy little house. It seemed she was constantly getting Jonathan wrong.

‘It’s perfect,’ she said. ‘I can’t see why you want to redecorate.’

Jonathan looked baffled. ‘That’s what I keep telling people. But Ashley seems to think it needs to be brought up to date.’

‘I wouldn’t change a thing,’ Rose said adamantly. ‘But, of course, it’s not my house.’

Jonathan smiled at her and her heart did the strange little somersault it always did whenever he looked at her that way.

‘In that case, I’m going to leave it the way it is. I like it. I can put my feet up on the table and I can turn around without worrying I’m going to knock over some ornament
or another.’ He paused for a moment. ‘It feels more like home than any place I’ve ever lived.’

While Jonathan disappeared to get changed, Rose walked across to the bookshelf. There were the usual classics as well as a number of thrillers. There was also a pile of medical journals on the floor. On the side table was a photograph of a woman and a man. They had their arms wrapped around each other as they picnicked on the lawn. Rose recognised the gatehouse in the background. She picked up the photograph for a better look. The woman was rather plain looking, except for her eyes which were an arresting shade of green. The man could have been a younger Jonathan.

‘Your parents?’ she asked Jonathan when he returned.

He took the photograph from her and Rose caught her breath at the look of sadness that washed over his face.

‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘It was taken on their seventh wedding anniversary. Mother died shortly after that.’ He placed the frame back on the table. It was the only photograph in the room. ‘It didn’t take long for Dad to remarry. Six months, I think it was. He recently divorced his third wife. I guess he’s a man who can’t stand his own company.’

The bitterness in his voice shook Rose.

‘Don’t you get on with him?’

Jonathan laughed harshly and turned away from her to look out of the window.

‘No. I guess you could say we don’t get on. He didn’t want me to go in for medicine. He thought as the only son I should take over the family business. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for not doing what he wanted. And I can’t forgive him for forgetting about my mother so soon. He could at least have waited a decent period before marrying again.’

‘Maybe he wanted to provide some stability for you?
Perhaps he thought he was doing the right thing?’ She walked across the room and touched him on the shoulder. ‘Perhaps he’s never been able to forget her and that’s why he keeps marrying?’

Jonathan turned to face her. He ran a finger down her jaw. ‘Ah, Rose. Trying to find the best in people all the time. When will you learn that there’s not many people like you?’

‘Hey, don’t make me out to be some kind of saint. It makes me sound so boring.’

‘One thing you’re not is boring, Rose Taylor.’ She held her breath as he tipped her face so he could see into her eyes. She was sure he was going to kiss her and her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear the rush of blood in her ears. She closed her eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers.

His mouth brushed hers in the lightest of kisses. She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her intently.

‘Come on, let’s take a walk up to the main house. We can see if there’s any dinner going. If not, we’ll go back to the village to find a pub. How does that sound?’

What just happened there? Rose thought, bewildered. Had she misread all his signals? It was perfectly possible. Once again she was reminded that she didn’t know how men like Jonathan operated. All she did know was that she felt a thudding disappointment.

Jonathan read the confusion in Rose’s eyes. She wasn’t to know it had taken all his willpower to pull back from her. For the first time ever with a woman he wanted to take it slowly. She was becoming too important for him to rush things. He wanted to woo her gently—take his time, make everything perfect. She was too important to him to treat her
as if she were simply another woman he took to his bed. He was beginning to suspect that he had found the missing part to him and the thought filled him with dismay. In his soul, he knew Rose wasn’t someone who would love lightly. He owed it to her, and to himself, to be sure he wouldn’t hurt her before he let things go any further. He bit back a groan. He had never thought about a future with any woman before, but it seemed finally he might have met the woman who could change his life. He was in deep trouble.

It was a substantial walk up to the house. As they turned a bend in the driveway the house came into view and Rose gasped. It was a beautiful large Georgian house, the facade grand but graceful. There were too many windows to count but Rose guessed that there had to be at least ten, possibly more, bedrooms.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘Quite stunning.’ ‘I suppose it is,’ Jonathan said thoughtfully. ‘But to me it’s just the house I was brought up in.’

They walked up a number of steps towards an ornate front door and stepped into the hall.

‘Anyone at home?’ Jonathan called out. ‘It’s Jonathan.’ His call was greeted with silence. ‘Mrs Hammond, the housekeeper, is probably in her office. Let’s have a look in the kitchen. Mary, our cook, is always in there. She’s probably grabbing a snooze. Dad wanted to retire her years ago, but she won’t have it. Says she’ll go mad without anything to do. You’ll like her. She still bakes every afternoon.’ He sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘In fact, I’m sure I can smell scones.’