Читать книгу Twins For Christmas - Алисон Робертс - Страница 15

FOR THE FIRST time in her life Emma Sinclair understood why they called it ‘falling’ in love.

Because she could feel that her balance was teetering. That there was a chasm very nearby that she couldn’t afford to fall into. She could get hurt.

Or hurt someone else.

Poppy and Oliver perhaps?

Or Adam?

Her hands stilled in their task of hemming, sinking to end up in the folds of the silky blue dress puddled in her lap, as she stared through the window. It was snowing, she realised with a childish bubble of excitement.

And then she remembered the kiss yet again and the bubble exploded into something decidedly more adult and compelling.

Desire—pure and simple.

Except it wasn’t that simple, was it? Oh, she’d noticed how good looking Adam McAllister was in the first moments of meeting him but she’d been a little afraid of him, too, if she was honest. The fierceness of him. The gruffness that came across as anger. The hidden depths that she’d glimpsed on that awful night when he’d ripped down the paper chains and caused the fire. And now she could add the capacity for passion into what this man was keeping hidden because she’d felt it in the touch of his lips.

She’d glimpsed the softer side to him as well, in the love he had for his children and the bond he had with his dogs. Pulling her gaze away from the softly drifting snowflakes, Emma glanced towards the fire. Benji lay on his back like a puppy, his speckled belly exposed, but Bob had his nose on his paws and he was watching Emma. She could swear that the old dog knew exactly what she was thinking and that the liquid gaze was encouraging.

He’s worth loving, it seemed to say. You won’t be sorry.

‘But I can’t, Bob.’ Emma actually spoke aloud. ‘I’m only here for a little bit longer.’

Time didn’t matter to dogs, though, did it? They took their joy as it appeared, with no questions asked. Even if they were old or sick, they could still be in the moment and experience that joy a hundred per cent.

People could learn a lot from dogs. Especially people who could be facing a terminal illness?

What if she let herself fall for Adam—even if it was only for a blink in time? It wasn’t just for the small McAllister family that she’d resolved to make this the best-ever Christmas for, was it?

If it was going to be her last Christmas, shouldn’t she make it the best ever one for herself, too?

‘It’s been such a long time, Bob,’ she whispered.

Such a long time since she had been loved …

Dear Lord, but it was tempting.

Bob’s ears were pricked now. He looked like he was asking her a question and Emma found herself smiling at the dog. No—she didn’t have to disappear right after Christmas, when Catherine McAllister returned, did she? Adam was still going to need a nanny and it wasn’t as if she had another job prospect lined up. She didn’t need to work at all, in actual fact, because the small inheritance from her mother would be enough for quite some time.

But she couldn’t offer Adam anything real. She didn’t do that kind of commitment. How could she, when she couldn’t offer any guarantee of permanence? When, instead, she could be sentencing someone to share things no one would choose to share.

And he wouldn’t want it anyway, would he? The blue of the fabric in her lap seemed to glow more brightly. How could anyone compete with the ghost of the perfect wife and mother? The love of his life that had been tragically ripped away from him and their beloved children?

The recently changed ring tone on her phone was for Christmas and Bob got to his feet as ‘Jingle Bells’ began. It was getting louder by the time Emma found the phone beneath the shimmery blue fabric.

‘It’ll be Sharon, I expect,’ she said, as Bob gave her hand a helpful nudge.

Except it wasn’t.

‘Jack …’ It was such a surprise to hear from him. A shock even, because it pulled her back instantly to somewhere she’d managed to distract herself from completely in the last couple of weeks.

‘Hey, Emma. How’s it going up there in the wilds of Scotland?’

‘It’s snowing,’ she told him happily. ‘And it’s just gorgeous. What’s it like in London?’

‘Cold and grey. No snow. That’s why I thought I’d pop up for a visit next week.’

‘What?’ Emma blinked. The relationship was a complicated mix sometimes and she wasn’t sure if he was wearing his ‘close friend’ or ‘oncologist’ hat right now. ‘Why?’

‘I’m meeting with an oncology guru who happens to be over from the States, tracing his family tree. I must have told you about that international research project we’re both involved in. Jenny says I bore everyone with it.’ He chuckled, unrepentant. ‘Anyway, I said I’d fly up for the day and then I had this idea and got hold of a mate who works in the infirmary in Edinburgh. I pulled a few strings but … how would you feel about having your BMT and maybe getting the results by Christmas?’

‘Oh …’ Emma had to swallow hard. The unpleasant prospect of having a bone-marrow aspiration done for testing had been off her agenda until she got back to London. ‘I’m … not sure how I feel about that, Jack. I …’ Oh, help. She could hear the wobble in her voice that threatened tears. ‘I was trying to forget about it, you know? To make this Christmas really special, in case … in case …’

‘I know.’ There was a short silence and then Jack’s voice was gentle. ‘Things are going to shut down for a while down here, what with Christmas and then New Year. And the baby’s not far off making an appearance, which could complicate things a bit for me, but it’s entirely your call. It was just an idea.’

Another silence as Emma’s mind raced. She would be thinking about it again now, wouldn’t she? Distraction would get harder. It could spoil things.

She heard Jack clear his throat. ‘How ‘bout this for another idea? Get the test done and, if the result comes through in time and it’s what we hope it’s going to be, I can give it to you as your Christmas present. And we can all really celebrate.’

He was including Sharon in that ‘we’. They’d got on famously from the moment they’d first met and had worked closely together to get Emma through the toughest of times.

‘And if it isn’t?’ Emma’s voice was so soft she didn’t think Jack would hear her but he did.

‘Then we’ll deal with it. After Christmas.’

Emma closed her eyes. That errant thought that she could perhaps stay in Braeburn longer than originally intended was still lurking in the back of her head and it would be much more convenient to pop over to Edinburgh for the test than go all the way back to London. And the result of that test couldn’t possibly be devastating, could it, given that she was feeling so good at the moment? The physical exhaustion that used to ambush her all the time had virtually disappeared so she knew she was getting stronger every day. How amazing would it be to get confirmation of something so wonderful as a Christmas gift?

‘Okay … Let me find a pen and paper and I’ll take down the details.’

It was proving to be a long day for Adam. Another one where it was difficult to separate his professional and personal lives.

He couldn’t blame his patients for making Emma’s presence felt in his consulting room or when he was making his house calls, though. No … it was his own disobedient mind.

Or maybe he should blame his body.

He hadn’t touched a woman in that way since his wife had died. Hadn’t even thought of touching like that, let alone kissing someone.

And it wouldn’t go away. The memory of how soft her lips had been. How sweet the taste of her had been. The shaft of desire for more that had been sharp enough to be both a physical and emotional pain.

Maybe that was what was making his mouth go a little dry at intervals today and increasing his heart rate until he could feel it thumping against his ribs. Too much adrenaline being produced. And why?

He knew if he looked a little more closely, he would know exactly why.

Fear.

Fear of being inadequate.

What man wouldn’t have lost confidence? Especially when avoidance had been the defence method of choice and it was now ingrained as a way of life? His children, his work and his community. Those were the things he could do and do well. Being a husband or even a lover?

That was what he wasn’t so sure of any more.

He’d always been good at avoidance, too. Even way back he’d made allowances for Tania’s dissatisfaction. She was a city girl, born and bred, so of course she found a small village like Braeburn boring to the point of suffocation.

Emma was a city girl, too, wasn’t she? She seemed to love village life but it was just a change for her. A very temporary change. Maybe the novelty would wear off.

Adam drove back to the medical centre that afternoon after visiting a sick baby on a farm that lay on the very outskirts of his practice area. It was starting to snow lightly and the stone walls and hedgerows looked like they were being dusted with icing sugar. The fairy-lights on the village shops were twinkling merrily and the tree in the square couldn’t have looked any more perfect.

He could see Old Jock over by the pub with his bagpipes under his arm. Hopefully, he’d go in by the fire and have a wee dram instead of getting too cold, serenading the village. He’d have to chase up those test results when he got back to his office. Something was going on with Jock and while nothing obvious had been noticeable when he’d examined the older man the other day, Adam wasn’t happy about it.

He cared deeply about the people of Braeburn. His people. It wasn’t just the physical beauty of this place that made it paradise for those who could see it. It was the embrace of a community tight enough to seem like an extended family with both its positive—supportive—side and the more negative—intrusive—one.

Eileen was in position, as always, guarding the reception desk, when he got back to the medical centre.

‘Any calls while I’ve been out?’

‘No’ yet.’ Eileen clicked her tongue. ‘There will be, mind … It’s snowing.’

‘Aye.’

‘Someone will fall over and break something, you mark my words.’

Adam smiled and Eileen looked shocked.

‘It’s no laughin’ matter, Dr McAllister.’

‘No.’

But the smile still lingered as he went into his office to make some calls. He needed to chase up Old Jock’s results and ring to see how the Jessops’ premature baby was doing. Still touch and go as far as he knew, but at least the little scrap was hanging in there.

And then he would be able to go home to be with his children and his dogs. And Emma … His home. His family.

It felt like the first time in his adult life that Adam wanted to be at home as much as he wanted to be at work.

Or was that unfair?

The twins had only been babies and then toddlers while Tania had been alive. Even with the help of a nanny it had been exhausting. It was no wonder that she’d demanded to be spoilt in the times he wasn’t at work. To be taken out for a candlelit dinner or away to Edinburgh or London for a shopping spree. Away from home. Away from Braeburn. Away from their children …

But he couldn’t deny that it had felt so much more like a family since Emma had come into their lives. There was music in the house. A Christmas tree in the living room. Secrets being planned and the excitement of the upcoming Christmas production that was making life crazily busy all of a sudden.

The idea came to him from somewhere out of left field.

Did Emma really love being here as much as she seemed to?

Could she be persuaded to stay longer?

It wasn’t fear that made his heart rate pick up this time. It was something far more positive but still enough to make him feel oddly nervous. Hope, perhaps?

Amazingly, the snow hadn’t been enough to stop the playing of the pipes that Emma was coming to rely on as being a highlight of her new daily routine. It had stopped falling for the moment and the roads were still clear but it was breathtakingly cold and she couldn’t sit on the bench because it would be damp even if she swept off the thin white covering.

The village centre was busy. There was a delicious smell coming from the bakery and a cluster of people outside the general store. The women saw her walk past and, instead of pretending not to, one of them nodded in her direction. The acknowledgement came without a smile but it was enough to make Emma grin and wave back. Maybe if she stopped wearing her silly Tibetan hat, she would get a smile next time.

The pipes sounded a little strange today. Had it been harder to warm them up because it was so cold? Sharon would say that some of those notes sounded like a cat being skinned alive and she wouldn’t be far wrong.

No wonder the man in the kilt stopped and lowered his instrument to stare at it in dismay.

But … to drop it?

Emma was just registering how wrong the scene in front of her was when she saw the man crumple and fall. Dropping her guitar case, she ran towards him. She’d done a first-aid course before she’d got sick herself. She knew to turn him over and check to see if he was breathing and try to see if he had a pulse.

To start CPR and shout for help.

‘Get Dr McAllister,’ she heard someone shout. ‘Tell him it’s Old Jock who needs him.’

‘Call an ambulance,’ someone else said. ‘He looks right poorly …’

It didn’t seem like any time at all until the gathering crowd of onlookers parted for Adam’s arrival. He was out of breath and carrying his bag in one hand and a large piece of equipment in the other. His ferocious-looking receptionist wasn’t far behind either, cradling an oxygen cylinder in her arms.

‘You’re doing a good job, Emma. Can you keep it up while I get organised?’

‘Sure.’ Emma ignored the pain from the icy cobbles beneath her knees. She bit her lip and concentrated on where she had her hands—in the middle of the chest—and how hard and fast to push.

Had it been only a matter of weeks ago that expending this much energy would have been impossible? She just had to keep it up. The last thing Adam needed right now was to have someone else collapsing.

‘Okay—stop for a moment.’ The buttons on the man’s waistcoat popped as Adam ripped it open. The buttons on a shirt went the same way but the singlet beneath needed a cut with shears before it would tear. And then Adam attached sticky pads to the bony chest and turned to look at the screen on the equipment he’d brought.

‘Move right back, Emma. Make sure you’re not touching him. I’m going to give him a shock.’

Emma—and all those watching—got a shock as well, seeing the body jerk in front of them, but she didn’t have time to wallow in feeling horrified.

‘Start compressions again,’ Adam ordered.

‘I can help the lassie.’ A big man was kneeling beside her. ‘I’ve learned how to do this.’

‘Good man, Bryan. Emma—can you hold this, please? And come up by his head. I need a hand to get a tube in so we can breathe for him.’

The next few minutes were a blur. How could Adam stay so calm? He slipped a tube down the man’s throat and attached it to a bag that he showed Emma how to squeeze. He put an IV line into an arm and drew up and administered drugs without any discernible shake to his hands.

Emma was shaking like a leaf now from a combination of the horror and the cold.

‘Can someone ring and find out how far away the ambulance is?’

‘They’re sending a helicopter,’ someone said moments later. ‘It’s going to land on the school field. They need people to check that there are no loose objects the snow might be hiding.’

Several people peeled away from the anxious group. ‘We’ll do that,’ a man called. ‘And warn the bairns what’s going to happen.’

Emma fought off a wave of dizziness. She focused on holding the bag and squeezing it. Counting to ten slowly and then squeezing it again.

‘You’re doing really well.’

The words were quiet. Only Emma and the big man doing the compressions would have heard it. Bryan didn’t look up from his task but Emma did. She met Adam’s dark gaze and found encouragement there. Pride even?

She had to swallow an unexpected lump in her throat.

‘Do … do we need to send someone to find blankets? It’s s-so cold …’

‘It’s a good thing for Old Jock,’ Adam said. ‘Sometimes we make patients cold deliberately to protect them from the effects of a cardiac arrest.’ He looked away. ‘I’ll take over in a sec, Bryan. Stand clear, both of you, now. I’m going to try another shock.’

Everyone had to be holding their breath to account for the silence that followed after the warning alarm and then the clunk of the machine delivering its charge. They could hear the beat of the approaching helicopter. And then another sound, much closer. A steady blip, blip, blip that was coming from the machine.

‘Is that …?’

‘Aye.’ Adam caught her gaze again. ‘We still need to help him with his breathing but we’ve got a heartbeat.’

There was triumph in those eyes now. Joy even. A ripple ran through the onlookers that suggested pride in their local doctor. Confirmation that their trust in him was not misplaced.

And then the helicopter crew was there, in their bright overalls and with even more equipment. Old Jock was put onto a stretcher.

‘Can you come with us, Doc?’

‘Of course.’ But Adam turned back to Emma. ‘I have no idea when I’ll get home. It could be tricky finding transport back from Edinburgh.’

‘I could come and get you.’

‘What about the children? It’ll be too late to be dragging them out.’

‘I can take the bairns,’ a woman said. ‘It’s no problem.’ She smiled at Emma. ‘I’m Jeannie’s mother. Jeannie’s Poppy’s friend. She’d love to have a sleepover.’

Emma saw the look on Adam’s face. He never asked these people for help, did he? She could understand that he might want to protect his fierce independence but these were his people. They cared about him just as much as he obviously cared about them.

‘Leave it with me,’ she told him. ‘I’ll call you.’

How ironic was it that she was practising the run to the big hospital in Edinburgh, having only made her arrangements with Jack hours before?

Fate seemed to be stepping in again. It had been so easy to arrange care for the children. A very excited Poppy had gone home with Jeannie for the night and Oliver was having his first-ever sleepover at his friend Ben’s house.

It made it easy to ask Adam what she needed to ask, after the initial conversation and reassurance that Jock was getting the best treatment possible had faded into silence.

Thank goodness Adam was driving. Emma had used up every ounce of energy she had and she knew she would fall asleep very soon. Maybe it was sheer exhaustion that stopped her feeling hesitant in making her request.

‘Would it be all right if I had a day off next week? I’ve … got a kind of appointment in Edinburgh that I need to go to.’

‘Of course you can have a day off. You haven’t had one since you came. I keep telling you I can cope at the weekends.’

‘The thing is … it’s a weekday, not the weekend, and I’d need to stay the night. The … ah … appointment’s late so I’d need to wait until the next day to get the train back. It would be fine for the children to stay with their friends again. I … um … checked.’

The sideways look she received was disconcerting. It reminded her of that first time she’d met Adam, when he’d looked at her as if she was the last person he’d want to be looking after his children. The atmosphere in the car suddenly felt like it had on that first day, too, when he’d driven her home and she’d been imagining his wife buried somewhere under the driveway.

It did sound dodgy, didn’t it? A late-night appointment? And it was on a day that would make child care a challenge for him and she’d taken a huge liberty in tentatively making arrangements herself. But she couldn’t tell him the truth or he might realise he had made a mistake in trusting her with his children. That she was sick and … and unreliable.

‘It’s a … job interview …’ she heard herself saying. Unconvincingly? She tried again. ‘Music’s my first love. That’s why I don’t take on full-time or permanent jobs. I’m seeing someone about the possibility of a future gig.’

That wasn’t so far from the truth, was it? It was just about her whole future and not just a gig.

The silence kept growing. Becoming more and more loaded with every passing second, but Adam was being assaulted by unpleasant emotions.

Had he really thought Emma was incapable of lying? It was obvious she was not telling the truth right now. He could hear echoes of Tania.

There’s a sale on … It’s my favourite designer, darling … It’s only for a day … maybe two …

But it wasn’t fair not to trust Emma because of the skill with which Tania had manipulated him.

He wanted to trust her. So much.

And it wasn’t her fault that it was so hard.

Finally—too late—he managed a grunt in response. But he couldn’t meet her eyes. He had to keep staring at the road ahead of them.

‘Do what you need to,’ he growled. ‘I’ll cope.’

Emma woke up as the car jolted over the tree roots on the driveway and, almost instantly, found herself shivering.

It wasn’t just the physical cold, although there was enough snow now for her feet to crunch through it as she followed Adam up the steps to the front door.

This was an emotional chill, too.

Adam McAllister had gone back into his shell, hadn’t he? Back to being the man who never really smiled and who couldn’t bear the celebration of something as joyous as Christmas.

And all because she’d asked for a day off?

No. Emma knew there was more to it than that. Maybe it was the way Adam was avoiding both eye contact and any conversation as they went into the house. Or it could have been the way Bob shot her an almost accusing look before going quietly to his master’s side. Most likely, it was catching sight of the mistletoe wreath that Emma had hung in the corner near the coat stand that made it crystal clear.

This was about the kiss.

About her.

The desire wasn’t one-sided, was it? But Adam didn’t know what to do about it because he was still caught in his grief and she’d just made it clear that she couldn’t wait to move on—to another gig.

For once Adam wasn’t rushing into the kitchen where he’d drop his coat over the back of the nearest chair or on the arm of the sofa. He was taking it off slowly and deliberately and clearly intended hanging it on the rack.

Slowly enough for Emma to have another blinding moment of clarity.

She’d thought she had nothing to offer Adam but she had been wrong.

Catherine would applaud the fact that she’d pushed him into allowing Christmas into his house for the sake of the children but … what if she could give him—give all of them—more than that?

This man deserved to be loved again.

The children desperately needed a mother, not just a series of nannies.

How perfect would it be if it could be her?

But, if it couldn’t, she could still help. She could help him take that first step. They had the house to themselves. Nobody but she and Adam need know.

Maybe the real gift she could give Adam was the permission to be really happy again? To show him what it could be like.

She could offer Adam hope. A belief that it was possible. He was an outstanding doctor and father but she could help him get over that huge barrier he’d put around himself as a man.

‘Adam?’ Slipping out of her own coat, Emma stood beside him at the coat rack. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t have to go to that appointment in Edinburgh. It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you and children. It’s just that—’

‘It doesn’t matter. I told you that.’

‘But it does,’ Emma said softly. ‘I don’t want to make things difficult. I know I’m not here for very long but I want this to be a special time—one that will make special memories—for all of us …’

Herself included. The whisper in the back of her mind reminded her that this could turn out to be her last Christmas. She had nothing to lose. Adam had everything to gain.

Oh, help … he was standing so very still. His eyes were closed.

When his eyes slowly opened, he wasn’t looking down at Emma. He was looking up—at the mistletoe wreath. And then he reached up and picked a whole bunch of those little, waxy white berries.

Finally, he made eye contact and the smouldering depths in those dark eyes stole Emma’s breath.

And her heart.

He might be fighting it but he wanted her.

Needed her.

Emma had to close her eyes because her own wanting and needing was overwhelming and this had to be Adam’s decision. His choice.

She heard his deep groan. And then she felt him move. One arm went around her waist and the other caught the back of her legs. She was scooped up as if she weighed almost nothing and she held on tightly and buried her face against his neck, allowing herself to sink into total trust as Adam carried her upstairs.

To his bed.

She felt so light in his arms. Thin enough to seem fragile as he set her down gently onto her feet when he’d reached his room and pushed the door shut with his foot to keep the dogs out.

To keep the whole world out.

Emma’s arms were still around his neck as her feet touched the floor and she must have stayed on tiptoe to reach his lips with her own so easily.

There was nothing fragile about that kiss. He could feel only the strength of her desire and a need that was as great as his own for the comfort of intimate, human touch.

It had been so long. Adam’s hands slipped beneath the woollen jumper to feel skin that was like silk. Small, firm breasts that seemed to push themselves into his hands and nipples that were as hard as tiny pebbles.

Touching them with his hands wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. As blissful as it was, kissing Emma, he needed his mouth and his lips to savour other parts of her perfect body.

A tug on her clothing seemed to be enough. Emma dropped her arms and stepped back. Just far enough to grasp her jumper herself and peel it off over her head. And then she began to unbutton her shirt but Adam stilled her hands.

‘Let me.’

His fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons and Adam realised, to his horror, that they were shaking. She wasn’t watching his hands, though. As he looked up he found she was watching his face. Waiting for a contact that went so much deeper than physical touch. And when he gave it to her, he couldn’t look away.

Could he do this? Could he love Emma in the way she deserved to be loved? Without disappointing her?

Emma could feel the tears in her eyes as she felt the way Adam’s hands were trembling.

This big, strong man who could save a life and do such intricate manoeuvres with those hands without the slightest tremor couldn’t hide his emotions in this moment.

This was huge. So huge that Adam was nervous. It wouldn’t last. She knew that as soon as they got over this awkward moment of shedding their clothing and they could touch each other properly, any doubts or nerves on either side would cease to exist.

But in this brief moment of such vulnerability she realised just how much she loved Adam. She wouldn’t only be giving him her body tonight. She would be giving him her heart—for as long as he wanted it.

Or as long as fate would allow.

And maybe something of what she was feeling was communicated as they held each other’s gaze for such a long, long moment, because she felt that trembling stop. She saw the doubt vanish from Adam’s eyes and could see something that seemed to mirror what she was feeling herself. A reflection—or was Adam gifting her his heart?

And then she could see—or maybe sense—the moment that desire ignited and there was nothing but the need to be as close as physically possible. There was no further awkwardness. Anything that was going to stop them being skin to skin seemed to be discarded as easily as ice melting in hot sunshine.

Adam flicked back the bed covers and then drew Emma against his body. In a heartbeat they would be lying on that bed together but she loved it that he stopped to gaze at her for a moment longer. To bend his head and give her such a tender kiss that promised he would look after her.

That he intended to make this night unforgettable.

Not that Emma had the slightest doubt that this would be the case but she loved being given the promise. Along with her body and her heart, Adam McAllister had just won her lifelong trust.