LITMIR.BIZ

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her father had recovered; however, the need for order had remained with her as she’d grown up. When she’d met Andrew, and discovered that he had felt the same, it had seemed as though they had been meant to be together. They could each strive for perfection, knowing the other would understand. It was only in this last year that she had realised what a terrible mistake she had made.

      ‘Hannah?’

      Someone touched her on the arm and she jumped, feeling the colour rush to her cheeks when she found Tom Bradbury staring down at her. At over six feet in height he was a lot taller than her and she was suddenly struck by the difference in their stature. He looked so big and solid as he stood there with a frown drawing his black brows together that she had the craziest urge to lean on him. The past twelve months had been hard and it would be wonderful if someone could take the burden off her for a little while…

      ‘Are you all right?’ He stepped closer, his blue eyes filled with concern as he peered into her face, and Hannah realised with a start that she had to pull herself together. Tom Bradbury wouldn’t be interested in her problems, neither did she want him to be.

      ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ She looked around the room. ‘Where’s Simon?’

      ‘He’s gone through to the house to make some coffee, or, hopefully, he’s gone to ask Ros to make it for us.’ Tom smiled and she was relieved to see that his face held nothing more than the sort of polite interest one showed to a stranger. ‘A word of advice here from one who knows: if Simon offers to make you a cup of coffee, refuse. His coffee is enough to make strong men weep!’

      An unwilling smile curved Hannah’s mouth. ‘It can’t be that bad, surely?’

      ‘Oh, it is. Trust me.’ Tom chuckled. ‘Simon may be a brilliant doctor, adored by all his patients, but his coffee is in a league of its own. If you value your health then make sure you get to the kettle before him!’

      His blue eyes held hers fast for a moment before he turned and headed towards the door and it was only then that Hannah realised she had stopped breathing. She took a quick breath and then a second for good measure before she followed him. It was the newness of it all, she assured herself as he led the way along the corridor towards the house. The fact that this was her first day in a new job, the first day of her new life, in fact. She was bound to feel on edge and keyed up….

      He pushed open a door, waiting politely for her to precede him, and Hannah sucked in her breath when her shoulder brushed his chest as she passed. Maybe it was understandable that she should feel nervous when she had needed to make so many changes to her life of late, but did that really explain why her blood pressure had shot up several degrees and her pulse was racing?

      She sighed as she stepped into an attractive country-style kitchen because she knew what the answer was even if she didn’t like it. The reason her heart was racing and her blood pressure was soaring was standing right behind her. Tom Bradbury was to blame. He and he alone had made her feel all those things. Admittedly, it was a surprise to find herself responding this way, but she mustn’t let it throw her. Maybe she did find him attractive but that was all it was—pure physical attraction, nothing more. After all, she had just escaped from one disastrous relationship and she certainly didn’t intend to find herself caught up in another one!

      Tom took the cup of coffee Ros offered him and walked over to the window. It was the middle of May and the sun was glinting off the sea. It was the kind of glorious Devon day that always made him glad to be alive but for some reason he was less aware of his surroundings at that moment than he was of the woman behind him.

      He took a sip of his coffee and turned, letting his gaze rest on the figure seated at the table. Hannah Morris was pretty in a restrained kind of way with that pale, fine skin and that rich auburn hair that fell softly to her shoulders. Her eyes were green, a deep sea green—he’d noticed that before—framed by thick black lashes that he would swear hadn’t been enhanced by even a trace of mascara. In fact, now that he thought about it, she was wearing very little make-up, just a touch of gloss on her lips and maybe, although he couldn’t be sure, a hint of blusher on her cheeks.

      Tom took a larger swallow of his coffee, somewhat surprised that he had taken such an interest in Simon’s new colleague. Although his godfather had told him about Hannah Morris when he had decided to offer her the job, Tom was aware that he hadn’t really been listening. All he could recall was that she was thirty-one years old and had worked at a large practice on the outskirts of London for the past few years. What else Simon had divulged had gone in one ear and out of the other and all of a sudden he wished that he’d paid more attention. There was something about Dr Morris that intrigued him, and it wasn’t just the fact that it had been a long time since he’d reacted that strongly when he had touched a woman’s hand!

      The thought caused him more than a little discomfort so it was a relief when Ros appeared at his side. ‘Penny for them.’ She smiled up at him, her face breaking into the warmly caring smile that had made Tom wish on more than one occasion when he’d been growing up that she had been his mother instead of the more glamorous Tessa.

      ‘I’m not sure they’re worth a penny even with the current rate of inflation,’ he observed dryly, then changed the subject. ‘Glad to see you got to the coffee pot before Simon.’

      ‘Oh, no fear of that. I had the coffee on the go by the time he appeared.’ Ros laughed but he could tell that she wasn’t fooled by his airy dismissal of her question. Ros knew him far too well, a fact he must bear in mind when his thoughts were tempted to wander again.

      As though unable to resist, his gaze moved back to Hannah and he felt a shudder run through him when he discovered that she was watching him. Just for a moment their eyes met before she looked away but it was long enough. Tom took another gulp of coffee, hoping it would quell the tremor that had been triggered inside him, but no such luck. He could feel it working its way down his body and inwardly groaned.

      He didn’t do this kind of thing! He didn’t respond so instantly to a woman, certainly never felt as though he had suddenly found himself with one foot on an emotional roller-coaster that was about to speed off. He liked women, enjoyed their company, but the key word in that statement was women.

      He liked them in the plural. When he dated he always made it clear that he was happy for his date to see other men, as he would be seeing other women. However, he knew without the shadow of a doubt that Hannah Morris wasn’t a plural type of woman. She would expect any man she dated to be strictly faithful and if there was one thing he couldn’t guarantee it was that kind of commitment.

      ‘So what do you think of Simon’s new protégé?’

      Tom dragged his thoughts back into line as he turned to Ros, although he had to admit that he was more than a little stunned by the way he was behaving. He had known Hannah Morris for less than ten minutes and yet here he was, pondering the weighty matter of his own shortcomings. ‘She seems very nice.’

      ‘Nice!’ Ros hooted. ‘Is that the best you can come up with, Tom? She’s nice?’

      ‘Well, I’ve hardly had a chance to get to know her,’ he countered, a shade defensively.

      ‘Maybe not, but it’s not like you to be so slow.’ Ros’s eyes were filled with laughter as she looked at him. ‘Usually, you have a woman summed up and categorised in less time than this.’

      ‘Categorised? I’m not sure I know what you mean,’ he said stiffly.

      ‘Oh, come on! Of course you do. I’ve watched you growing up, don’t forget. I’ve seen the effect you have on the female half of the population and watched you in action, too.’ Ross chuckled. ‘I’m not sure if you use some sort of scoring system but women seem to fall into one of two categories where you’re concerned. They’re either fair game or strictly off limits. What I can’t work out is which category Hannah comes into.’

      ‘So what are you two muttering about?’ Simon came over to refill his cup and smiled at them. ‘You look as though you’re plotting some sort of mischief.’

      ‘Mischief?’

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