DR DEVEREUX'S PROPOSAL
CHAPTER ONE
Shutting off the water, Gabriel stepped out of the shower
cubicle and reached for a towel, hesitating when
he heard a noise downstairs. It had sounded like
the front door closing. Frowning, he waited, listening. Yes,
there was definitely someone moving around inside the house. More
curious than concerned, he wrapped the towel around his
waist and left his bedroom, moving silently down the stairs
to investigate the trespass into his new domain. The
noises were louder now. He tiptoed in the direction
from which they came, pausing in the shadows of the unlit
passageway to look through the door into a large, homely
farmhouse kitchen.
A brindle-and-white greyhound lay on the stone-flagged
floor, its head on its paws, solemnly watching the movements
of the woman who was moving about as if she owned the place. Guessing
her age to be in the late twenties, Gabriel's gaze lingered
on her with as much intensity as the dog's, warmth and
pure masculine appreciation spearing through him, catching
him by surprise.
A bunch of home-cut flowers, dahlias and chrysanthemums
amongst them, were arranged haphazardly in an old stoneware
jug on the table, while several carrier bags littered the
polished wooden work surfaces. Humming an unrecognisable
tune, the woman busied herself stocking the kitchen cupboards
with her purchases, her movements athletically graceful. Tight
white jeans accentuated the length of her legs and lovingly
moulded the rounded swell of her derrière. As
she turned round, still unaware of his presence, he could
see how the super-soft angora jumper she wore skimmed her
shapely frame, outlining the curves of full, firm breasts. The
lavender colour set off the natural paler highlights in
her light brown hair and lent an amethyst glow to what
he could see, even from this distance, were gorgeous grey
eyes. Gabriel was mesmerised. Who was this
woman?
Picking up a carton of milk and a box of eggs, she twirled
her way to the fridge on trainer-clad feet, presenting
him with a delectable view of her feminine curves as she
bent over, her hips swaying provocatively to the music
she heard in her head. Left loose, her wavy hair
cascaded round her shoulders in a darkly-golden curtain. She
flicked it back with one hand as she rose and returned
to the counter, still humming to herself as she delved
into the carrier bags once more.
Intrigued, Gabriel stepped into the room. The dog
was the first to acknowledge him. Anxious brown eyes
turned his way, then the too-thin creature whined and all
but crawled towards the woman who leaned down to stroke
it with gentle care.
'What's wrong, Foxy?'
Knowing whatever he did was going to startle her, Gabriel
cleared his throat, announcing his presence as he walked
forward. 'Hello.'
With a shocked cry, the woman swung round, the pack of
pasta shells in her hands dropping to the floor. Beautiful
smoky grey eyes widened between long, dark lashes as she
stared at him, and lushly kissable lips parted in surprise. Her
tongue-tip peeped out to moisten them as she stepped back
a pace, one hand dropping to calm the fretful dog pressed
against her legs, the other curled to a fist at her throat. Gabriel
felt her gaze skim over his scantily clad frame and an
unexpected but immediate wave of attraction crashed through
him.
'I'm sorry.' He offered a smile with the apology,
unable to look away from her. 'I didn't mean to scare
you. I heard a noise down here and had no idea anyone
was around.'
'OK. Um ... hello,'
she greeted after a moment, her voice melodious but with
a husky undertone that appealed to him. Hell, everything
about her appealed to him. 'You must be Dr Devereux. I
wasn't expecting you until tomorrow,' she continued, bending
to pick up the fallen pasta, fumbling briefly as she set
it awkwardly back on the counter. With a sudden smile
that had the same effect on him as a punch to the solar
plexus, she held out her hand. 'I'm Lauren Nightingale
... your neighbour at Gatehouse Cottage and also
physiotherapist at the Penhally Bay Surgery.'
This was the woman Nick Tremayne had spoken of? Ooh
la la! 'Lauren, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please,
call me Gabriel,' he invited, trying to pull himself
together and remember his manners.
Closing the remaining gap between them, he took her graceful
hand in his. Her grip was strong, her fingers slender
but capable. Looking down, he noted how much paler
her warm, satiny skin was than his, how her bones were
far more delicate. A jolt of electricity zinged up
his arm and along his nerve endings at the contact between
them. That Lauren felt it too was apparent by the
way she bit her lip, her pupils dilating, her body momentarily
swaying towards him before she caught herself and pulled
back, withdrawing her hand. Gabriel released her
with reluctance.
Close to, she was taller than he had realised, five seven
or eight, he judged, and even more attractive than he had
first thought. She had an earthy allure quite unlike
the sophisticated, deliberate beauty of some of the Parisian
women he had dated in the past but vastly more entrancing
and natural. A subtle, floral scent – sweet
peas, he recognised – mingled with her unique femininity,
teasing and enticing him. No make-up was needed to
enhance her flawless skin. Pale gold from a fading
summer tan, it looked as smooth as silk. His fingers
longed to touch, to discover if she was as warm and soft
all over as her hand had felt in his. He struggled
to rein back the runaway thoughts but it wasn't easy when
every particle of his being hummed with awareness while
she studied him as closely as he had regarded her.
*
Dr Gabriel Devereux was the most delicious surprise!
Fearing that her legs would not hold her upright much
longer, Lauren leaned against the kitchen counter and affected
what she hoped was a nonchalant pose. She didn't feel remotely
nonchalant. Any minute now she was going to do something
uncharacteristically shocking, impulsive and embarrassing
... like throw herself wantonly into his arms and ravish
him.
Gabriel's sudden arrival had taken her off guard. She
was disconcerted that she had not been aware of his presence
and wondered how long he had stood there watching her. But
the fact that she had not seen him in the shadows and had
only formed a distinct visual impression when he had stepped
into the brightly lit kitchen stirred inner anxieties she
was unwilling to deal with. That he was wearing
only an ivory towel was a suitable diversion, however,
and she grabbed the excuse to ignore her disturbing concerns,
unable to resist the temptation to observe him in detail.
She saw bare bodies, or bits of bodies, every working
day, but she had never seen one that made her heart hammer,
her mouth water and that robbed her of breath as Gabriel's
did. Goodness! Her hands clung to the counter
as she greedily inspected him. She feared she was
about to melt into a puddle at his feet. Nice feet,
too, she couldn't help but notice. Very nice. Like
the rest of him. Her gaze slowly climbed back up
his scrumptious frame.
Strong, lean legs were braced hip width apart and the
towel slung low around his hips revealed a tantalising
glimpse of pleasingly muscled, hair-brushed thighs. A
narrow line of dark hair in the centre of his flat stomach
dipped past his navel and disappeared below the towel. She
licked her lips, resisting the urge to touch as she looked
over his perfect athletic body, toned abdomen, well-defined
chest and broad shoulders, all supple flesh and rippling
muscle. He'd clearly just stepped out of the shower
as droplets of water glistened on his delicious dark caramel
skin, its colour hinting at a French Caribbean ancestry. Lauren
swallowed, battling against the overwhelming desire to
press her lips to that warm, damp masculine flesh. She
still remembered the faint scent of him when they had been
close and shaken hands ... tangy citrus soap and clean
male, heady and earthy and arousing.
Topping six feet, he was more than impressive. The
close-cropped dark hair suited him, accentuating the classically
beautiful but supremely masculine bone structure of his
face, the slash of high cheekbones, the straight nose and
the carved lines of his jaw. Her palm itched to
smooth over his head, to feel if the razor-short hair was
rough or soft to the touch. His mouth was undeniably
sexy, his bronze lips sensuously curved and designed for
kissing. She yearned to press her own against them,
to learn the shape and feel and taste of him.
Twin dimples creased his cheeks when he smiled, while
laughter lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes,
adding character and hinting at an active sense of humour. Finally,
she looked into those thickly lashed eyes. They were
the richest brown she had ever seen. As Gabriel met
and held her gaze, his pupils dilated, darkening the irises
to the colour of finest coffee. The flare of masculine
interest was unmistakable and caused a tightening ache
of want in the pit of her stomach that was so strong and
so sudden she barely suppressed a gasp.
What in the world had come over her? Yes, it had
been a while since she had enjoyed male companionship.
She had broken up with her long-term boyfriend, Martin
Bennett, six months ago, but to all intents and purposes,
they had been apart a long time before that. They
had gone their separate ways amicably, both knowing their
lingering on-again-off-again relationship was based more
on old friendship than grand passion and had been leading
nowhere. Martin was desperate to get out of Cornwall,
to 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 Kate Althorp 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 now, 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?
Dr Devereux's Proposal
Margaret McDonagh
Mills & Boon Medical Romance
Book 12 in the Brides of Penhally Bay series
Hardback – September 2008
ISBN: 9780263199109
Paperback – November 2008
ISBN:
Copyright © 2008
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
Cover copyright © 2008 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Artwork by Jim
Wylie |
