Читать книгу One Autumn Proposal - Marie Ferrarella - Страница 11

CASSIDY stared up at the white ceiling of her duty room, the wind knocked clean out of her. Something was sticking into her ribcage and she squirmed, causing an array of perilously perched cardboard boxes to topple over her head. She squealed again, batting her hands in front of her face.

A strong pair of arms grabbed her wrists and yanked her upwards, standing her on the only visible bit of carpet in the room—right at the doorway.

Brad was squirming. ‘Sorry about that, Cassidy. I was trying to warn you but …’

He stopped in mid-sentence. She looked mad. She looked really mad. Her chestnut curls were in complete disarray, falling over her face and hiding her angry eyes. ‘What is all this rubbish?’ she snapped.

Brad cleared his throat. ‘Well, actually, it’s not “rubbish”, as you put it. It’s mine.’ He bent over and started pushing some files back into an overturned box. They were the last thing he wanted anyone to see.

Her face was growing redder by the second. She looked down at her empty hand—obviously wondering where the off-duty book she’d been holding had got to. She bent forward to look among the upturned boxes then straightened up, shaking her head in disgust.

She planted her hands on her hips. ‘You’d better have a good explanation for this. No wonder you were giving me the treatment.’

‘What treatment?’

She waved her hand in dismissal. ‘You know. The smiles. The whispers. The big blue eyes.’ She looked at him mockingly. ‘You must take me for a right sap.’

All of a sudden Brad understood the Dragon Lady label. When she was mad, she was mad. Heaven help the doctor who messed up on her watch.

He leaned against the doorjamb. ‘I wasn’t giving you the treatment, as you put it, Cassidy. I was trying to connect with the sister of the ward I work in. We’re going to have to work closely together, and I’d like it if we were friends.’

Her face softened ever so slightly. She looked at the towering piles of boxes obliterating her duty room. ‘And all this?’

He shot her a smile. ‘Yes, well, there’s a story about all that.’

She ran her fingers through her hair, obviously attempting to re-tame it. He almost wished he could do it for her. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve moved in.’

He laughed. ‘No. It’s not that desperate. I got caught short last night and was flung out of my flat, so I had to bring all my stuff here rather than leave it all sitting in the street.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean, you got caught short? That sounds suspiciously like you were having a party at five in the morning and the landlord threw you out.’

Brad nodded slowly. ‘Let’s just say I broke one of the rules of my tenancy.’

‘Which one?’

‘Now, that would be telling.’ He pulled a set of keys from his pocket with a brown tag attached. ‘But help is at hand. I’ve got a new flat I can move into tonight—if I can find it.’

‘What do you mean—if you can find it?’ Cassidy bent over and read the squiggly writing on the tag.

Brad shrugged his shoulders. ‘Dowangate Lane. I’m not entirely sure where it is. One of the porters put me onto it at short notice. I needed somewhere that was furnished and was available at short notice. He says its only five minutes away from here, but I don’t recognise the street name.’

Cassidy gave him a suspicious look. ‘I don’t suppose anyone told you that I live near there.’

‘Really? No, I’d no idea. Can you give me some directions?’

Cassidy sighed. ‘Sure. Go out the front of the hospital, take a left, walk a few hundred yards down the road, take a right, go halfway down the street and go down the nearby close. Dowangate Lane runs diagonally off it. But the street name fell off years ago.’

Cassidy had a far-away look in her eyes and was gesturing with her arms. Her voice got quicker and quicker as she spoke, her Scottish accent getting thicker by the second.

‘I have no idea what you just said.’

Cassidy stared at him—hard. ‘It would probably be easier if I just showed you.’

‘Really? Would you?’

‘If it means you’ll get all this rubbish out of my duty room, it will be worth it.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Do you want my help or not?’

He bent forward and caught her gesturing arms. ‘I would love your help, Cassidy Rae. How does six o’clock sound?’ There it was again—that strawberry scent from her hair. That could become addictive.

She stopped talking. He could feel the little goose-bumps on her bare arms. Was she cold? Or was it something else?

Whatever it was, he was feeling it, too. Not some wild, throw-her-against-the-wall attraction, although he wouldn’t mind doing that. It was weird. Some kind of connection.

Maybe he wasn’t the only person looking for a Christmastime distraction.

She was staring at him with those big brown eyes again. Only a few seconds must have passed but it felt like minutes.

He could almost hear her thought processes. As if she was wondering what was happening between them, too.

‘Six o’clock will be fine,’ she said finally, as she lowered her eyes and brushed past him.

Brad hung his white coat up behind the door and pulled his shirt over his head. He paused midway. What was he going to do with it?

Cass stuck her head around the door. ‘Are you ready yet?’ Her eyes caught the tanned, taut abdomen and the words stuck in her throat. She felt the colour rush into her cheeks. ‘Oops, sorry.’ She pulled back from the door.

All of a sudden she felt like a teenager again. And trust him to have a set of to-die-for abs. Typical. There was no way she was ever taking her clothes off in front of Mr Ripped Body.

Where had that come from? Why on earth would she ever take her clothes off in front of him? That was it. She was clearly losing her marbles.

Almost automatically, she sucked in her stomach and looked downwards. Her pink jumper hid a multitude of sins, so why on earth was she bothering?

Brad’s hand rested on the edge of the door as he stuck his head back round. ‘Don’t be so silly, Cassidy. You’re a nurse. It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before. Come back in. I’ll be ready in a second.’

She swallowed the huge lump at the back of her throat. His shoulder was still bare. He was obviously used to stripping off in front of women and was completely uninhibited.

So why did that thought rankle her?

She took a deep breath and stepped back into the room, trying to avert her eyes without being obvious. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was embarrassed. With an attitude like his, she’d never live it down.

He was rummaging in a black holdall. Now she could see the muscles across his back. No love handles for him. He yanked a pale blue T-shirt from the bag and pulled it over his head, turning round and tugging it down over his washboard stomach.

‘Ready. Can we go?’

Cassidy had a strange expression on her face. Brad automatically looked down. Did he have a huge ketchup stain on his T-shirt? Not that he could see. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, matching the soft pink jumper she was wearing. A jumper that hugged the shape of her breasts very nicely. Pink was a good colour on her. It brought out the warm tones in her face and hair that had sometimes been lost in the navy-blue tunic she’d been wearing earlier. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a short ponytail, with a few wayward curls escaping. She was obviously serious about helping him move. No fancy coats and stiletto heels for her. Which was just as well as there were around fifty boxes to lug over to his new flat.

‘Will you manage to carry some of these boxes down to my car?’

‘I’ll do better than that.’ She opened the door to reveal one of the porters’ trolleys for transporting boxes of equipment around the hospital. The huge metal cage could probably take half of his boxes in one run.

‘Genius. You might be even more useful than I thought.’

‘See, I’m not just a pretty face,’ she shot back, to his cheeky remark. ‘You do realise this is going to cost you, don’t you?’ She pulled the cage towards the duty room, letting him stand in the doorway and toss out boxes that she piled up methodically.

‘How much?’ As he tossed one of the boxes, the cardboard flaps sprang open, spilling his boxers and socks all over the floor.

Cassidy couldn’t resist. The colours of every imagination caught her eyes and she lifted up a pair with Elmo from Sesame Street emblazoned on the front. ‘Yours?’ she asked, allowing them to dangle from one finger.

He grabbed them. ‘Stop it.’ He started ramming them back into the box, before raising his eyebrows at her. ‘I’ll decide when you get to see my underwear.’

When. Not if. The thought catapulted through her brain as she tried to keep her mind on the job at hand. The boxes weren’t neatly packed or taped shut. And the way he kept throwing them at her was ruining her precision stacking in the metal cage.

‘Slow down,’ she muttered. ‘The more you irritate me, the more my price goes up. You’re currently hovering around a large pizza or a sweet-and-sour chicken. Keep going like this and you’ll owe me a beer as well.’

The cheeky grin appeared at her shoulder in an instant. ‘You think I won’t buy you a beer?’ He stared at the neatly stacked boxes. ‘Uh-oh. I sense a little obsessive behaviour. One of your staff warned me about wrecking the neatly packed boxes of gloves in the treatment room. I can see why.’

‘Nothing wrong with being neat and tidy.’ Cassidy straightened the last box. ‘Okay, I think that’s enough for now. We can take the rest downstairs on the second trip.’

Something flashed in front of his eyes. Something wicked. ‘You think so?’

He waited while she nodded, then as quick as a flash he shoved her in the cage, clicking the door behind her and pushing the cage down the corridor.

Cassidy let out a squeal. For the second time today she was surrounded by piles of toppling boxes. ‘Let me out!’ She got to her knees in the cage as he stopped in front of the lifts and pushed the ‘down’ button.

His shoulders were shaking with laughter as he pulled a key from his pocket for the ‘Supplies Only’ lift and opened the door. ‘What can I say? You bring out the wicked side in me. I couldn’t resist wrecking your neat display.’

He pulled the cage into the lift and sprang the lock free, holding out his hands to steady her step. The lift started with a judder, and as she was in midstep—it sent her straight into his arms. ‘Ow-w!

The lift was small. Even smaller with the large storage cage and two people crammed inside. And as Brad had pressed the ground-floor button as he’d pulled the cage inside, they were now trapped at the back of the lift together.

She was pressed against him. He could feel the ample swell of her breasts against his chest, her soft pink jumper tickling his skin. His hands had fallen naturally to her waist, one finger touching a little bit of soft flesh. Had she noticed?

Her curls were under his nose, but there was no way he was moving his hands to scratch the itch. She lifted her head, capturing him with her big brown eyes again.

This was crazy. This was madness.

This was someone he’d just met today. It didn’t matter that he felt a pull towards her. It didn’t matter that she’d offered to help him. It didn’t matter that for some strange reason he liked to be close to her. It didn’t matter that his eyes were currently fixed on her plump lips. He knew nothing about her.

Her reputation had preceded her. According to her colleagues she was a great nurse and a huge advocate for her patients, but her attention to detail and rulebook for the ward had become notorious.

More importantly, she knew nothing about him. She had no idea about his history, his family, his little girl out there in the world somewhere. She had no idea how the whole thing had come close to breaking him. And for some reason he didn’t want to tell her.

He wanted this to be separate. A flirtation. A distraction. Something playful. With no consequences. Even if it only lasted a few weeks.

At least that would get him past Christmas.

‘You can let me go now.’ Her voice was quiet, her hands resting on his upper arms sending warm waves through his bare skin.

But for a second they just stood there. Unmoving.

The door pinged open and they turned their heads. His hands fell from her waist. She turned and automatically pushed the cage through the lift doors, and he fell into step next to her.

The tone and mood were broken.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind helping me with this? You could always just draw me a map.’

She stuck her elbow in his ribs. ‘Stop trying to get out of buying me dinner. What number did you say the flat was? If I find out I’ve got to carry all these boxes up four flights of stairs I won’t be happy.’

They crossed the car park and reached his car. She blinked. A Mini. For a guy that was over six feet tall.

‘This is your car?’

‘Do you like it?’ He opened the front passenger door, moved the seat forward and started throwing boxes in the back. ‘It’s bigger than you think.’

‘Why on earth didn’t you just leave some stuff in the car?’

Brad shrugged. ‘Luca borrowed my car last night after he helped me move my stuff. I think he had a date.’ And some of his boxes were far too personal to be left unguarded in a car.

Cassidy shook her head and opened the boot, trying to cram as many of the boxes in there as possible. She was left with two of the larger ones still sitting on the ground.

She watched as he put the passenger seat back into place and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I can just put these two on my lap. It’s only a five-minute drive. It’ll be fine.’

Brad pulled a face. ‘You might need to put something else on your lap instead.’

She felt her stomach turn over. What now?

‘Why do I get the distinct impression that nothing is straightforward with you?’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the porter’s lodge at the hospital gate, leaving the two boxes next to his unlocked car. ‘Come on.’

‘Where on earth are we going?’

‘I’ve got something else to pick up.’

He pushed open the door to the lodge. Usually used for deliveries and collections, occasionally used by the porters who were trying to duck out of sight for five minutes, it was an old-fashioned solid stone building. The front door squeaked loudly. ‘Frank? Are you there?’

Frank Wallace appeared. All twenty-five stone of him, carrying a pile of white-and-black fur in his hands. ‘There you are, Dr Donovan. He’s been as good as gold. Not a bit of bother. Bring him back any time.’

Frank handed over the bundle of black and white, and it took a few seconds for Cassidy to realise the shaggy bundle was a dog with a bright red collar and lead.

Brad bent down and placed the dog on the floor at their feet. It seemed to spring to life, the head coming up sharply and a little tail wagging furiously. Bright black eyes and a pink panting tongue.

‘Cassidy, meet Bert. This is the reason I lost my tenancy.’

Cassidy watched in amazement. Bert seemed delighted to see him, jumping his paws up onto Brad’s shoulders and licking at his hands furiously. His gruff little barks reverberated around the stone cottage.

He was a scruffy little mutt—with no obvious lineage or pedigree. A mongrel, by the look of him.

‘Why on earth would you have a dog?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You live in Australia. You can’t possibly have brought him with you.’ Dogs she could deal with. It was cats that caused her allergies. She’d often thought about getting a pet for company—a friendly face to come home to. But long shifts weren’t conducive to having a pet. She knelt on the floor next to Brad, holding her hand out cautiously while Bert took a few seconds to sniff her, before licking her with the same enthusiasm he’d shown Brad.

‘I found him. A few weeks ago, in the street outside my flat. He looked emaciated and was crouched in a doorway. There was no way I could leave him alone.’ And to be honest, I needed him as much as he needed me. Brad let the scruffy dog lick his hands. Melody would love this little dog.

‘So what did you do?’

‘I took him to the emergency vet, who checked him over, gave me some instructions, then I took him home.’

‘And this is why you got flung out your flat?’ There was an instant feeling of relief. He hadn’t been thrown out for non-payment of rent, wild parties or dubious women. He’d been thrown out because of a dog. She glanced at his face as he continued to talk to Bert. The mutual admiration was obvious.

The rat. He must have known that a dog would have scored him brownie points. No wonder he’d kept it quiet earlier. She would have taken him for a soft touch.

She started to laugh. ‘Bert? You called your dog Bert?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What’s wrong with Bert? It’s a perfectly good name.’

‘What’s wrong with Rocky or Buster or Duke?’

He waved his hand at her. ‘Look at him. Does he look like Rocky, Buster or Duke?’

He waited a few seconds, and Bert obligingly tipped his head to one side, as if he enjoyed the admiration.

Brad was decisive. ‘No way. He’s a Bert. No doubt about it.’

Cassidy couldn’t stop the laugh that had built up in her chest. Bert wasn’t a big dog and his white hair with black patches had definitely seen better days. But his soft eyes and panting tongue were cute. And Brad was right. He looked like a Bert—it suited him. She bent down and started rubbing his ears.

‘See—you like him. Everyone should. He’s a good dog. Not been a bit of bother since I found him.’

‘So how come you got flung out the flat? And what about the new one? I take it they’re happy for you to have a dog?’

Brad pulled a face. ‘One of my neighbours reported me for having a dog. And the landlord was swift and ruthless, even though you honestly wouldn’t have known he was there. And it was Frank, the porter, who put me onto the new flat. So I’m sorted. They’re happy for me to have a dog.’

Cassidy held out her arms to pick up the dog. ‘I take it this is what I’m supposed to have on my lap in the car?’

Brad nodded. ‘Thank goodness you like dogs. This could have all turned ugly.’

She shook her head, still rubbing Bert’s ears. ‘I’m sure it will be fine. But let’s go. It’s getting late and I’m starving.’

They headed back to the car and drove down the road past Glasgow University and into the west end of Glasgow. Lots of the younger hospital staff stayed in the flats around here. It wasn’t really designed for kids and families, but for younger folks it was perfect, with the shops, restaurants and nightlife right at their fingertips.

‘So what do you like best about staying around here?’

Cassidy glanced around about her as they drove along Byres Road. She pointed to the top of the road. ‘If you go up there onto Western Road and cross the road, you get to Glasgow’s Botanic Gardens. Peace, perfect peace.’

Brad looked at her in surprise. ‘Really? That’s a bit unusual for someone your age.’

‘Why would you think that? Is it only pensioners and kids that can visit?’ She gestured her thumb over her shoulder. ‘Or if you go back that way, my other favourite is the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum—as long as the school trips aren’t there! There’s even a little secret church just around the corner with an ancient cemetery—perfect for quiet book reading in the summer. Gorgeous at Christmastime.’

Brad stared at her. ‘You’re a dark horse, aren’t you? I never figured you for a museum type.’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s the peace and quiet really. The ward can be pretty hectic. Some days when I come out I’m just looking for somewhere to chill. I can be just as happy curled up with a good book or in the dark at the cinema.’

‘You go to the cinema alone?’

She nodded. ‘All the time. I love sci-fi. My friends all love romcoms. So I do some with my friends and some on my own.’ She pointed her arm in front of them. ‘Turn left here, then turn right and slow down.’

The car pulled to a halt at the side of the road next to some bollards. Cassidy looked downwards. Bert had fallen asleep in her lap. ‘Looks like it’s been a big day for the little guy.’

Brad jumped out of and around the car and opened the passenger door. He picked up the sleeping dog. ‘Let’s go up and have a look at the flat before I start to unpack the boxes.’

‘You haven’t seen it yet?’

He shook his head. ‘How could I? I was on call last night and just had to take whatever I could get. I told you I’d no idea where this place was.’

Cassidy smiled. ‘So you did. Silly me. Now, give me the key and we’ll see what you’ve got.’

They climbed up the stairs in the old-style tenement building, onto the first floor, where number five was in front of them. Cassidy looked around. ‘Well, this is better than some flats I’ve seen around here.’ She ran her hand along the wall. ‘The walls have been painted, the floors are clean, and …’ she pointed to the door across the hallway ‘… your neighbour has some plants outside his flat. This place must be okay.’

She turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. Silently praying that she wouldn’t be hit with the smell of cats, mould or dead bodies.

Brad flicked the light switch next to the door and stepped inside. He was trying to stop his gut from twisting. Getting a flat that accepted dogs at short notice—and five minutes away from the hospital—seemed almost too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere.

The catch was obvious. Cassidy burst into fits of laughter.

‘No way! It’s like stepping back in time. Have we just transported into the 1960s?’ She turned to face him. ‘That happened once in an old Star Trek episode. I think we’re just reliving it.’

Brad was frozen. The wallpaper could set off a whole array of seizures. He couldn’t even make out the individual colours, the purples and oranges all seemed to merge into one. As for the shag-pile brown carpet …

Cassidy was having the time of her life. She dashed through one of the open doors and let out a shriek. ‘Avacado! It’s avocado. You have an avocado bathroom! Does that colour even exist any more?’ Seconds later he heard the sounds of running water before she appeared again, tears flowing down her cheeks. ‘I love this place. You have to have a 1960s-style party.’

She ducked into another room then swept past him into the kitchen, while Brad tried to keep his breathing under control. Could he really live in this?

He set down the dog basket on the floor and placed the sleeping Bert inside. His quiet, peaceful dog would probably turn into a possessed, rabid monster in this place.

He sagged down onto the purple sofa that clashed hideously with the brown shag-pile carpet. No wonder this place had been available at a moment’s notice.

He could hear banging and clattering from next door—Cassidy had obviously found the kitchen. He cringed. What colour was avocado anyway? He was too scared to look.

Cassidy reappeared, one of her hands dripping wet, both perched at her waist. ‘Kitchen’s not too bad.’ She swept her eyes around the room again, the smile automatically reappearing on her face. She walked over and sat down on the sofa next to Brad, giving his knee a friendly tap. ‘Well, it has to be said, this place is spotlessly clean. And the shower’s working.’ She lifted her nose and sniffed the air. ‘And it smells as if the carpets have just been cleaned. See—it’s not so bad.’

Not so bad. She had to be joking.

And she was. He could see her shoulders start to shake again. She lifted her hands to cover her face, obviously trying to block out the laughter. His stomach fell even further.

‘What is it?’

He could tell she was trying not to meet his gaze. ‘Go on. What else have you discovered in this psychedelic temple of doom?’ He threw up his hands.

Cassidy stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her. For a second he was confused. What was she doing? Sure, this had crossed his mind, but what did she have in mind?

She pulled him towards the other room he hadn’t looked at yet—the bedroom. Surely not? He felt a rush of blood to the head and rush of something else to the groin. This couldn’t be happening.

She pushed open the door to the room, turning and giving him another smile. But the glint in her eyes was something else entirely. This was no moment of seduction. This was comedy, through and through.

He stepped inside the bedroom.

Pink. Everywhere and everything. Pink.

Rose-covered walls. A shiny, satin bedspread. Pink lampshades giving off a strange rose-coloured hue around the room. Pink carpet. Dark teak furniture and dressing table. He almost expected to see an eighty-year-old woman perched under the covers, staring at them.

Cassidy’s laughter was building by the second. She couldn’t contain herself. She spun round, her hands on his chest. ‘Well, what do you think? How’s this for a playboy palace?’

His reaction was instantaneous. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her with him, toppling onto the bed, the satin bedspread sliding them along. He couldn’t help it. It was too much for him and for the next few minutes they laughed so hard his belly was aching.

They lay there for a few seconds after the laughter finally subsided. Brad’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, staring at yet another rose-coloured light shade.

He turned his head to face Cassidy’s. ‘So, tell me truthfully. Do you think this flat will affect my pulling power?’

Cassidy straightened her face, the laughter still apparent in her eyes. She wondered how to answer the question. Something squeezed deep inside her. She didn’t want Brad to have pulling power. She didn’t want Brad to even consider pulling. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d only met this guy today. Her naughty streak came out. ‘Put it this way. This is the first time I’ve lain on a bed with a man, panting like this, and still been fully dressed.’

His eyebrows arched and he flipped round onto his side to face her. ‘Well, Sister Rae, that almost sounds like a challenge. And I like a challenge.’

Cassidy attempted to change position, the satin bedspread confounding her and causing her to slide to the floor with a heavy thud.

Brad stuck his head over the edge of the bed. ‘Cass, are you okay?’

She held up her hand towards him and shook her head. ‘Just feed me.’

Fifty boxes later and another trip back to the hospital, they both sagged on the sofa. Brad pulled a bunch of take-away menus from a plastic bag. ‘I’d take you out for dinner but I don’t think either of us could face sitting across a table right now.’

Cassidy nodded. She flicked through the menus, picking up her favourite. ‘This pizza place is just around the corner and it’s great. They don’t take long to deliver. Will we go for this?’

‘What’s your favourite?’

‘Thin crust. Hawaiian.’

‘Pineapple—on a pizza? Sacrilege. Woman, what’s wrong with you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me—you’re a meat-feast, thick-crust man?’

He sat back, looking surprised. ‘How did you know?’

‘Because you’re the same as ninety per cent of the other males on the planet. Let’s just order two.’ She picked up the phone, giving it a second glance. ‘Wow, my parents had one of these in the seventies.’ She listened for a dial tone. ‘Never mind, it works.’ She dialled the number and placed the order.

‘So, what do you think of your new home? Will you still be talking to Frank in the morning?’

Brad sighed. ‘I think I should be grateful, no matter how bad the décor is. I needed a furnished flat close by—it’s not like I had any furniture to bring with me—so this will be fine.’ He took another look around. ‘You’re right—it’s clean. That’s the most important thing.’ Then he pointed to Bert in the corner. ‘And if he’s happy, I’m happy.’ The wicked glint appeared in his eyes again. ‘I can always buy a new bedspread—one that keeps the ladies on, instead of sliding them off.’

There it was again. That little twisting feeling in her gut whenever he cracked a joke about other women. For the first time in a lifetime she was feeling cave-woman primal urges. She wanted to shout, Don’t you dare! But that would only reveal her to be a mad, crazy person, instead of the consummate professional she wanted him to think she was.

He rummaged around in a plastic bag at his feet. ‘I’m afraid I can’t offer you any fancy wine to drink. I’ve got orange or blackcurrant cordial.’ He pulled the bottles from the bag. ‘And I’ve got glasses in one of those boxes over there.’

Cassidy reached over and opened the box, grabbing two glasses and setting them on the table. ‘So what’s your story? What are you doing in Scotland?’ And why hasn’t some woman snapped you up already?

‘You mean, what’s a nice guy like me doing in a place like this?’ He gestured at the psychedelic walls.

She shrugged. ‘I just wondered why you’d left Australia. Do you have family there? A girlfriend?’ She couldn’t help it. She really, really wanted to know. She’d wanted to ask if he had a wife or children, but that had seemed a bit too forward. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and he hadn’t mentioned any significant other. And he’d been flirting with her. Definitely flirting with her. And for the first time in ages she felt like responding.

‘I fancied a change. It seemed like a good opportunity to expand my experience. Scottish winters are notorious for medical admissions, particularly around old mining communities.’ He paused for a second and then added, ‘And, no, there’s no wife.’ He prayed she hadn’t noticed the hesitation. He couldn’t say the words ‘no children’. He wouldn’t lie about his daughter. But he just didn’t want to go there right now. Not with someone he barely knew.

Cassidy nodded, sending silent prayers upwards for his last words, but fixed her expression, ‘There’s around two and half thousand extra deaths every winter. They can’t directly link them to the cold. Only a few are from hypothermia, most are from pneumonia, heart disease or stroke. And last year was the worst. They estimated nine pensioners died every hour related to the effects of the cold. Fuel payments are through the roof right now. People just can’t afford to heat their homes. Some of the cases we had last year broke my heart.’

Brad was watching her carefully. Her eyes were looking off into the distance—as if she didn’t want him to notice the sheen across her eyes when she spoke. He wondered if she knew how she looked. Her soft curls shining in the dim flat light, most of them escaping from the ponytail band at the nape of her neck. It was clear this was a subject close to her heart—she knew her stuff, but as a sister on a medical receiving unit he would have expected her to.

What he hadn’t expected was to see the compassion in her eyes. Her reputation was as an excellent clinician, with high standards and a strict rulebook for the staff on her ward. But this was a whole other side to her. A side he happened to like. A side he wanted to know more about.

‘So, what’s the story with you, then?’

She narrowed her eyes, as if startled he’d turned the question round on her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What age are you, Cassidy? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?’ He pointed to her left hand. ‘Where’s your other half? Here you are, on a Monday night at …’ he looked at his watch ‘… nearly nine o’clock, helping an orphaned colleague move into his new flat. Don’t you have someone to go to home to?’

Cassidy shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t like being put on the spot. She didn’t like the fact that in a few moments he’d stripped her bare. Nearly thirty, single and no one to go home to. Hardly an ad for Mrs Wonderful.

‘I’m twenty-nine, and I was engaged a few years ago, but we split up and I’m happy on my own.’ It sounded so simple when she put it like that. Leaving out the part about her not wanting to get out of bed for a month after Bobby had left. Or drinking herself into oblivion the month after that.

His eyebrows rose, his attention obviously grabbed. ‘So, who was he?’

‘My fiancé? He was a Spanish registrar I worked with.’

‘Did you break up with him?’

The million-dollar question. The one that made you look sad and pathetic if you said no. Had she broken up with him? Or had Bobby just told her he was returning to Spain, with no real thought to how she would feel about it? And no real distress when she’d told him she wouldn’t go with him.

Looking back she wondered if he’d always known she wouldn’t go. And if being with her in Scotland had just been convenient for him—a distraction even.

She took a deep breath. ‘What’s with the questions, nosy parker? He wanted to go home to Spain. I wanted to stay in Scotland. End of story. We broke up. He’s back working in Madrid now.’ She made it sound so simple. She didn’t tell him how much she hated coming home to an empty house and having nobody to share her day with. She didn’t say how whenever she set her single place at the table she felt a little sad. She didn’t tell him how much she hated buying convenience meals for one.

‘Bet he’s sorry he didn’t stay.’

Cassidy’s face broke into a rueful smile and she shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. He went home, had a whirlwind romance and a few months later married that year’s Miss Spain. They’ve got a little son now.’

She didn’t want to reveal how hurt she’d been by her rapid replacement.

He moved a little closer to her. ‘Didn’t that make you mad? He left and played happy families with someone else?’

Cassidy shook her head determinedly. She’d had a long time to think about all this. ‘No. Not really. I could have been but we obviously weren’t right for each other. When we got engaged he said he would stay in Scotland, but over time he changed his mind. His heart was in Spain.’

Her eyes fell downwards for a few seconds as she drew in a sharp breath, ‘And I’d made it clear I didn’t want to move away. I’m a Scottish girl through and through. I don’t want to move.’

Brad placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘But that seems a bit off. Spain’s only a few hours away on a plane. What’s the big deal?’

Cassidy looked cross. He made it all sound so simple. ‘I like it here. I like it where I live. I don’t want to move to …’ she lifted her fingers in the air ‘… sunnier climes. I want to stay here …’ she pointed her finger to the floor ‘… in Scotland, the country that I love. And I have priorities here—responsibilities—that I couldn’t take care of in another country.’ She folded her arms across her chest.

‘So I made myself a rule. My next other half will be a big, handsome fellow Scot. Someone who wants to stay where I do. Not someone from the other side of the planet.’

The words hung between them. Almost as if she was drawing a line in the sand. Brad paused for a second, trying to stop himself from saying what he really thought. Should he say straight away that he would never stay in Scotland either? That he wanted his life to be wherever his daughter was—and he was prepared to up sticks and go at a moment’s notice?

No. He couldn’t. That would instantly kill this flirtation stone dead. And that’s all this would ever be—a mild flirtation. Why on earth would what she’d just said bother him? He was merely looking for a distraction—nothing more. Something to take his mind off another Christmas without his daughter.

‘Just because someone is from Scotland it doesn’t mean they’ll want to stay here. There have been lots of famous Scots explorers—David Livingstone, for example.’ He moved forward, leaning in next to her. ‘Anyway, that’s a pretty big statement, Cassidy. You’re ruling out ninety-nine per cent of the population of the world in your search for Mr Right. Hardly seems fair to the rest of us.’ He shot her a cheeky grin. ‘Some people might even call that a bit of prejudice.’

‘Yeah, well, at least if I think about it this way, it saves any problems later on. I don’t want to meet someone, hook up with them and fall in love, only to have my heart broken when they tell me their life’s on the other side of the planet from me.’ Been there. Done that. ‘Why set myself up for a fall like that?’

‘Why indeed?’ He’d moved right next to her, his blue eyes fixed on hers. She was right. Cassidy wanted to stay in Scotland. Brad wanted to go wherever in the world his little girl was. A little girl he hadn’t even told her about. Anything between them would be an absolute disaster. But somehow he couldn’t stop the words forming on his lips.

‘But what happens if your heart rules your head?’ Because try as he may to think of her as a distraction, the attraction between them was real. And it had been a long time since he’d felt like this.

She could see every tiny line on his face from hours in the Australian sun, every laughter line around the corners of his eyes. His hand was still resting on her arm, and it was making her tingle. Everything about this was wrong.

She’d just spelled out all the reasons why this was so wrong. He was from Australia. The other side of the planet. He was the worst possible option for her. So why, in the space of a day, was he already getting under her skin? Why did she want to lean forward towards his lips? Why did she want to feel the muscles of his chest under the palms of her hands? He was so close right now she could feel his warm breath on her neck. It was sending shivers down her spine.

She didn’t want this to be happening. She didn’t want to be attracted to a man there was no future with. So why couldn’t she stop this? Why couldn’t she just pull away?

Ding-dong.

Both jumped backwards, startled by the noise of the bell ringing loudly. Even Bert awoke from his slumber and started barking.

Cassidy was still fixed by his eyes, the shiver continuing down her spine. A feeling of awakening. ‘Pizza,’ she whispered. ‘It must be the pizza.’

‘Saved by the bell,’ murmured Brad as he stood up to answer the door. At the last second he turned back to her. A tiny little part of him was feeling guilty—guilty about the attraction between them, guilty about not mentioning his daughter, and completely irritated by her disregard for most of the men in the world.

Her mobile sounded, and Cassidy fumbled in her bag. ‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, glancing at the number on the screen.

She stepped outside as he was paying for the pizzas and pressed the phone to her ear. ‘Hi, it’s Cassidy Rae. Is something wrong with my grandmother?’

‘Hi, Cassidy. It’s Staff Nurse Hughes here. Sorry to call, but your gran’s really agitated tonight.’

Cassidy sighed. ‘What do you need me to do?’ This was happening more and more. Her good-natured, placid gran was being taken over by Alzheimer’s disease, at times becoming confused and agitated, leading to outbursts of aggression that were totally at odds with her normal nature. The one thing that seemed to calm her down was hearing Cassidy’s voice—whether over the phone or in person.

‘Can you talk to her for a few minutes? I’ll hold the phone next to her.

‘Of course I will.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Hi, Gran, it’s Cassidy. How are you feeling?’ Her words didn’t matter. It was the sound and tone of her voice that was important. So she kept talking, telling her gran about her day and her plans for the week.

And leaving out the thoughts about the new doctor that were currently dancing around in her brain.

Brad sat waiting patiently. What was she doing? Who was she talking to outside in that low, calm voice? And why couldn’t she have taken the call in here?

More importantly, what was he doing?

Getting involved with someone he worked with hadn’t worked out too great for him the last time. He’d had a few casual dates in the last year with work colleagues, but nothing serious. He really didn’t want to go down that road again.

So what on earth was wrong with him? His attraction to this woman had totally knocked him sideways. Alison had been nothing like this. A few weeks together had proved they weren’t compatible. And the pregnancy had taken them both by surprise. And although his thoughts had constantly been with his daughter, this was the first time that a woman had started to invade his mind.

His brain wasn’t working properly, but his libido was firing on multiple cylinders. Which one would win the battle?