A Puppy and a Christmas Proposal Read online

  Her ex-fiancé...

  ...is giving her paws for thought!

  Alex Norton devastated Beth Masters when he told her he could no longer marry her. The last thing she wants this Christmas is to come face-to-face with him, clutching an adorable puppy! Warm-hearted vet Beth can’t say no to a four-legged patient in need, but she’ll need to guard her damaged heart from delicious doc Alex. Which becomes impossible when he finally reveals the reason why he left...

  “It would take a whole lot more than treats to make your behavior fit my standards, Alex Norton.”

  But instead of being taken aback by her tongue-lashing, he stepped a little closer, eyes glittering. “What kind of more?”

  Beth couldn’t find her voice in her tight throat. He was here and close and she couldn’t think straight. Her senses seemed on overdrive; there was a heady sensual scent in the air, her body aware of where he put those amazing hands now, wishing they were exploring her instead of shoved in his pockets.

  She wanted him and she shouldn’t. She’d immunized herself against him. She’d reeled from his words, nursed a broken heart. “A lot more than you’ve got.”

  “I can do more.” He wanted to kiss her. She knew him too well to not misinterpret that misted look in his eyes. And hell, she wanted to kiss him, too. Just once. Just to feel his lips press on hers, just to taste him one more time. Then she’d turn and walk away from him. This time, she’d do the walking.

  Dear Reader,

  Many thanks for picking up A Puppy and a Christmas Proposal!

  What in the world could be better than having custody of an adorable puppy at Christmastime? Unless, of course, you’re forced to share the puppy with the man who broke your heart.

  When Alex broke up with Beth eight years ago he thought he had perfectly valid reasons, and those reasons have been a closely guarded secret...until Beth breaks through his defenses and demands answers. Unfortunately for Alex, she is not happy with what he tells her! I’m sure they’d prefer keeping each other at arm’s length, but sharing the care of a puppy gives them lots of opportunity to keep meeting up, until their mutual attraction reaches boiling point.

  I loved revisiting Oakdale at Christmas! If this is your first visit to this fictional village nestled in the snow-capped hills of England’s beautiful Lake District, then welcome! If you enjoy this story and want more Oakdale magic, then A Nurse to Heal His Heart is another of my books set there.

  I love hearing from readers, so please get in touch via my website, louisageorge.com, or on Facebook: LouisaGeorgeBooks.

  Happy reading!

  Louisa x

  A Puppy and a Christmas Proposal

  Louisa George

  Books by Louisa George

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  SOS Docs

  Saved by Their One-Night Baby

  The Ultimate Christmas Gift

  The Nurse’s Special Delivery

  The Hollywood Hills Clinic

  Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc

  Midwives On-Call at Christmas

  Her Doctor’s Christmas Proposal

  One Month to Become a Mom

  The War Hero’s Locked-Away Heart

  The Last Doctor She Should Ever Date

  How to Resist a Heartbreaker

  200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick

  A Baby on Her Christmas List

  Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon

  Reunited by Their Secret Son

  A Nurse to Heal His Heart

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Praise for Louisa George

  “This really is a magical story that had me laughing, smiling and shedding a few tears.... Ms. George brings the characters to life on the pages.”

  —Goodreads on Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EXCERPT FROM MISTLETOE PROPOSAL ON THE CHILDREN'S WARD BY KATE HARDY

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘DAMN SNOW. THE weather forecast said this Arctic vortex should have ended by today.’

  Alex Norton locked Oakdale Medical Centre’s front door and turned up his coat collar against the flurries that were now falling thick and fast, covering Oakdale village in a glistening white blanket. Winter had arrived with a vengeance with Christmas hot on its tail. And all he had to do was keep sane through the madness of the next month and then he’d be able to breathe properly again.

  All? With the memories of Christmases past haunting him at every turn in this tiny claustrophobic village he’d be lucky if he stayed sane until the end of next week.

  ‘Hasn’t snowed this much in December for years.’ His colleague and business partner Dr Joe Thompson grinned as he fell into step with him up the path towards the main street. ‘Going to be a white Christmas, do you think?’

  White? Blue? Yellow with orange spots? Alex didn’t rightly care what colour Christmas was going to be, but he managed a half-decent, at least polite, reply. ‘Who knows? It’s three weeks away. This will all be murky slush before you can blink.’

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. ‘I hope not. I promised to take Katy tobogganing tomorrow.’

  Alex checked himself. Okay, so perhaps murky slush wasn’t polite. Not everyone disliked Christmas, especially not the father of a pre-teen girl. Maybe Christmas might actually be fun with a kid around. As if he’d ever know. ‘Oh, yes. First day of your holidays. Have fun. See you on the other side of New Year.’

  ‘I’m grateful you’ve agreed to stay here to cover the clinic for us. Rose is looking forward to her first Oakdale Christmas and Katy’s beside herself with excitement about the New Year’s skiing holiday. For the first time in years I’m going to be able to get to all the school things they have at the end of term; the kids’ disco, the Nativity... And she’s going to love the pantomime in Lancaster next week.’ Judging by the shine in Joe’s eyes he was fairly keen about it all too. Which, as far as Alex was concerned, was a long time coming. Joe had been through a rough few years and it was good to see him smile. He figured Joe’s new partner Rose had a lot to do with that too. ‘It’ll be good to be able to enjoy it all as a family without worrying about rushing back for work.’

  ‘You deserve the time off. Happy to do it.’ With a bit of luck he could bury himself in his job and forget it was the time of year that everyone seemed to go just a little bit crazy. Alex hated December. He hated Christmas. He hated the reminders of everything he’d lost, and at this time of year he was usually on holiday somewhere far away trying to drink away the memories.

  But there would be no holiday this year; their other practice partner, Jenny, was off sick with a nasty leg fracture and their new partner wasn’t starting until next week, and with Joe having pre-booked leave right through December there hadn’t been anyone to step up but Alex.

  Joe stopped as they reached the turn-off that led up the hill to his house. ‘Coming to the carol concert later?’

  ‘No. Not my idea of fun.’

  ‘Good job you don’t have kids, mate. You’d go mad this time of year with all the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeers going on. Katy’s been practisi
ng and let’s just say that, although I love my daughter to pieces, even I have to admit she does not have the voice of an angel.’ Joe laughed. ‘Seriously, you should come.’

  ‘With that recommendation?’ Alex ignored the stab in his chest. It wasn’t just a good job he didn’t have kids; it was a physical impossibility. He dug his hands further into his coat pockets. ‘No. I’m fine. A warm fire and a cold beer beckon.’

  ‘The pub? Friday band night?’

  ‘No. I’d like to keep my eardrums intact into old age. I’m just heading home. Just me, and not a red-nosed reindeer in sight.’

  ‘Okay. So basically it’s “Bah, humbug” and all that?’

  ‘Yeah. Something like that.’ Joe clearly wasn’t getting the ‘don’t push it’ vibe Alex was sending him. ‘Enjoy the concert.’

  ‘I’ll try...’ Joe grinned and waved his phone earbuds ‘...not to listen too hard.’

  Then it was just Alex and the crunch of fresh snow as he stalked across the empty village square. Each footstep a beat...warm...fire...cold...beer... Warm...fire. Cold...beer. Nothing better after a busy work week.

  Despite the streetlights it was dark and fresh and he wished he’d dressed more suitably for a blizzard. Every shopfront had some sort of festive display or Nativity scene and someone had strung bunting made out of silver stars zigzagging from the post office to the butcher’s and over to the newsagent’s. There was a small and slightly gravelly snowman outside the little supermarket, its carrot nose lying on the snow-covered ground. Alex picked it up, stuck it back onto the large white head and tightened the woolly scarf round the join between head and body. ‘There you go, mate, whole again.’

  He tried hard not to think how that might feel. But at least he’d fixed the snowman. See? What was that if it wasn’t embracing the Christmas spirit? Bah, humbug, indeed.

  He made his way down the icy path towards the opposite end of the village to where Joe was heading, to the house he’d grown up in, his thoughts tumbling between the usual tumult of GP life and that one Christmas eight years ago when his life had changed for ever.

  He tried to push the memories away but there was something about those Nativity scenes that seemed to lock them in his head; the doctor’s office decorated in tinsel for festive fun, diametrically opposed to the hot panic that had consumed him. The phone call. Tears. So many tears. And then navigating an entirely different landscape from the future he’d been planning.

  From somewhere he heard a little whine, then an excited yelp tugged him back to today, the past receding a little. Behind him was a fluffy bundle of fur on four legs. Not a red-nosed reindeer but a dog...a puppy to be exact. It stopped walking when he did. When he started again it let out another yelp then bounded through the drifts and caught him up, tangling between his legs.

  Huffing out a breath, Alex disentangled himself from the pup. Along with huge soppy eyes it had a long snout, big paws completely out of whack with its body and a tail that stood up like a spike. Cute. If you were the dog-loving type. Alex wasn’t. Especially when they hindered your journey home after a long day looking after particularly difficult patients. He stepped over the mutt. ‘Whoa, puppy. It’s too slippery out here to be doing that.’

  It didn’t move. ‘Go.’

  Nah. Nothing. He picked it up, turned it around and plopped it back onto the snow, hoping it would return to wherever it had come from, then he set off in the direction of home. Warm fire. Cold beer. Warm fire. Cold beer.

  Another yelp. A little bark. Did that one sound like, Hey, Mr Bah Humbug, I’m freezing?

  ‘Look, stop following me. Go home, boy...or girl...’ He couldn’t tell from this distance. But the puppy just tipped its head to one side and looked at him. ‘Go. Shoo.’

  Pointy ears pricked. Well, one did; the right ear had a floppy fold. One up, one bent.

  Not cute at all. Really. Not cute.

  And lost. He looked at the trail of puppy paw prints in the snow and sighed as he bent down. ‘Okay, okay. Let’s have a look at you.’

  No collar. Great. A boy pup. And very happy to be given attention. ‘Someone, somewhere is going to be missing you. How about you turn right around and go back where you came from?’ But he couldn’t help sinking his fingers in the fur at the back of the pup’s neck and giving him a good scratch. The puppy nuzzled against his arm and something in Alex’s chest squeezed.

  No. ‘I am not going to be bamboozled by big soppy brown eyes and cold paws.’

  No. Nope. No way. Niet.

  As soon as this silly season was over he was booking a holiday. A climbing holiday perhaps where he could put all his energy into something physical. A holiday fling maybe? That could be good respite too. A something with someone who didn’t want for ever. He noticed his fingers were still fur-deep and his palm was wet with over-enthusiastic licks. It actually felt kind of nice. When was the last time he’d made a meaningful connection?

  He didn’t want to think about that, because making connections deeper than the ten-minute appointments with his patients was something he avoided at all costs. Dragging his hand away from the fur ball, he tried to sound authoritarian. ‘Don’t go getting attached to me. Off you go.’

  He started to walk away. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Words he’d repeated over and over to himself so many times in his life; in the darkest times, when he’d faced an uncertain future, he’d known that looking back at all those unfulfilled plans he’d made would have given him no solace at all.

  But the puppy ran along next to him, sinking deep into the snow, then pushing with those huge paws and jumping out and into the next drift. ‘A puppy with authority issues. I see. Just my luck, right? Look, mate, this isn’t going to work. I’m just not that into you.’

  The wind picked up as he reached his cottage, swirling snowflakes faster and thicker. He slid the key into the lock and pushed through into the cold and dark, pausing for a moment to stamp the snow from his boots. Wishing he’d left either a light or central heating on, he flicked on a switch, flooding the hallway in a soft cream glow, and caught a spiky tail disappearing into his kitchen. ‘What? Hey! Houdini! You don’t live here.’

  The damned thing had snuck in with him and was now, he discovered as he rounded the corner into his large kitchen-dining room, lying on his grandparents’ heirloom rug in front of the dining table, chewing on Alex’s best, top-of-the-range and shipped-all-the-way-from-the-States climbing shoes.

  ‘Hey! Hey! No! They cost a fortune! Let go.’ A throaty, playful growl came from the dog as Alex took hold of his shoe and tried to tug it out of its mouth. ‘I only just bought them. I’ve only worn them once.’

  But the dog stuck his bottom in the air and laid his enormous paws out in front and kept on tugging back, that tail wagging back and forth like a metronome on heat.

  ‘This is not a game.’ Alex needed to distract it. ‘Food? What could you have? Water? Yes. Water.’

  He filled an old porcelain Willow Pattern bowl that had belonged to his grandmother and put it on the floor, then microwaved the sausages he’d planned to eat for dinner and chopped them up. ‘Your last supper, matey. Then you’re back out there.’

  He looked out of the window at the whirls of snowflakes, heavier and thicker than he’d seen in a long time. Then he looked at the puppy, who was devouring the food as if it hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe it hadn’t. ‘Who do you belong to?’

  One tentative sniff of the sausages and Spike gobbled the lot—okay, so the name just came to him. It fitted the mutt perfectly, especially with the tail that stuck straight up. And so much for not getting involved. As a rural GP he’d been around enough farmers to know you didn’t name things you didn’t want to get attached to.

  Then Spike bounded over to him, dragging the now mauled and mangled shoe. Alex used his best authoritative voice. ‘Drop. Drop.’

  But Spike went right on chewin
g at Alex’s feet. Whoever owned him scored very low in the puppy-training ranks.

  ‘You must belong to someone. Surely? How would I find out? A dog like you shouldn’t be out there in the freezing night—oh? Ugh.’ His words stalled as a warm and wet sensation trickled down his ankle.

  ‘Oh, great. Just great. A puppy with authority issues and a weak bladder. Brilliant.’ He looked down and his eyes met those dark brown soulful ones. He ignored the squeeze in his chest. ‘Spike, my man. Just what the hell am I supposed to do with you?’

  * * *

  Sometimes folks loved their pets more than people, and Beth Masters understood that more than most. Pets didn’t break promises or let you down. Pets never gave you the cold shoulder or silent treatment. Except for the one she was examining now; the poor farm dog was so ill, and exhausted from being sick, she could barely move. ‘How long has she been like this?’ Beth asked Meg’s owner, local farmer Dennis Blakely.

  The old man just shrugged as he stared down at his lovely old collie and stroked her muzzle. ‘Help her, Beth.’

  Beth recapped what he’d told her when he’d rushed through the door a few minutes before, frantic for help. ‘So, we have a history of vomiting and shaking...like a seizure?’

  ‘Yes. No. Well...she was shaking and coughing and then she was sick. It was dark-coloured.’

  ‘Blood perhaps?’ Beth did not like the sound of that. ‘And now she’s just completely exhausted. It could be a bug, or something she’s eaten. Or any number of things.’ Or, most likely some kind of tumour in a dog of such advanced age. But Beth knew better than to jump to conclusions and she couldn’t feel any obvious mass.

  Mr Blakely tore his eyes away from the dog and looked over at Beth. ‘Something she’s eaten? Do you think so? What kind of thing?’

  Beth listened to the dog’s heart. ‘At this time of year it’s usually chocolate. People leave it wrapped up underneath the Christmas tree and forget it’s dangerous to dogs. Oh. Oh, dear, poor you.’ She rubbed gently as the dog vomited onto the counter. This wasn’t looking good. But she could see it wasn’t chocolate that had made the poor pooch sick. Meg whined and laid her head onto her paws, her eyes looking deep into Beth’s heart. Wait...there was a tinge of yellow in the dog’s sclera. Liver problems maybe?

 
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