Читать книгу One Autumn Proposal - Marie Ferrarella - Страница 13

2 November

‘WHAT are you doing here?’

It was three o’clock in the morning, and the voice should have startled her, but it didn’t; it washed over her like warm treacle.

She turned her head in the darkened room where she was checking a patient’s obs, an automatic smile appearing on her face. ‘I got called in at eleven o’clock. Two of the night-shift staff had to go home sick, and it was too late to call in any agency staff.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Sickness bug again. What are you doing here? I thought Franco was on call.’

Brad rolled his tired eyes. ‘Snap. Sickness bug, Franco phoned me half an hour ago with his head stuck down a toilet.’

Cassidy nodded. ‘Figures. This bug seems to hit people really quickly. Loads of the staff are down with it. Let’s just hope we manage to avoid it.’ She finished recording the obs in the patients chart and started walking towards the door. Brad’s arm rested lightly on her waist, and although she wanted to welcome the feel of his touch, it just didn’t seem right.

‘No touching at work,’ she whispered.

His eyes swept up and down the dimly lit corridor. ‘Even when there’s no one about? Where’s the fun in that?’ His eyes were twinkling again, and it was doing untold damage to her flip-flopping stomach. She stopped walking and leaned against the wall.

‘It’s like this, Dr Donovan.’ She moved her arm in a circular motion. ‘I’m the master of all you can survey right now, and it wouldn’t do to be caught in a compromising position with one of the doctors. That would give the hospital gossips enough ammunition for the rest of the year.’ She looked down the corridor again, straightening herself up, her breasts brushing against his chest.

‘I may well be the only nurse on duty in this ward right now, but I’ve got a reputation to maintain.’ She tapped her finger on his chest. ‘No matter how much men of a dubious nature try to waylay me.’

Brad kept his hands lightly resting on her waist. ‘Hmm, I’m liking three o’clock in the morning, Cassidy Rae. It sounds as if there might be a bit of a bad girl in there.’ He had that look in his eye again—the one he’d had when he’d finally stopped kissing her a few nights ago. The one that suggested a thousand other things they could be doing if they weren’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. ‘We really need to improve our timing.’

He was grinning at her now. The tiny hairs on her arms were starting to stand on end. This man was infectious. Much more dangerous than any sickness bug currently sweeping the ward.

She could feel the pressure rising in her chest. How easy would it be right now for them to kiss? And how much did she want to? But it went against all her principles for conduct and professional behaviour. So why did they currently feel as if they were flying out the window?

No matter how she tried to prevent it, this man had got totally under her skin. She was falling for him hook, line and sinker. No matter how much her brain told her not to.

She tried to break the tension between them. ‘What do you want, anyway? I didn’t page you. Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ The irony of the words hit her as soon as they left her mouth, her cheeks automatically flushing. Brad and bed. Two words that should never be together in a sentence. The images had haunted her dreams for the last few nights. And she had a very active imagination.

His fingers tugged her just a little closer so he could whisper in her ear. ‘Bed is exactly where I’m planning on being. But not here. And not alone.’

Cassidy felt her blush intensify. Was she going to deny what had been on her mind? She wasn’t normally shy around men. But something about Brad was different. Something was making her cautious.

And she wasn’t sure what it was. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it yet. But as long as she had the slightest inclination what it was, she didn’t want to lose her heart to this guy. No matter how irresistible he was.

‘I’ve got two patients coming up. Two young guys who’ve—what is it you call it here?—been out on the lash?’

Cassidy laughed and nodded at his phrasing. He really was trying to embrace the Scottish words and phrases around him. She raised her eyebrows, ‘Or you could call them blootered.’

Brad shook his head. ‘I think you all deliberately wait until I’m around and start using all these words to confuse me.’ He looked out the window into the night at the pouring rain. ‘One of the other nurses down in A and E called the two young guys drookit and mauchit. I have no idea what she was talking about.’

Cassidy laughed even harder. ‘Look outside, that will give you a clue. Drookit is absolutely soaking. Mauchit means really dirty. I take it the guys were found lying on the street?’

Brad nodded. ‘I’m getting the hang of this, though. It’s …’ he lifted his fingers in the air ‘… going like a fair down there.’

She laughed. ‘See—you’re learning. Bet you hadn’t heard that expression before you came to Scotland.’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘Hang on, where is it going like a fair? In A and E?’

‘The short-stay ward is full already. That’s why you’re getting these two. They’ll need Glasgow coma scale obs done. Are you okay with that?’

Cassidy smiled. ‘Of course I am. We’re used to getting some minor head injuries on the ward on a Saturday night.’ She walked over to the filing cabinet and pulled out the printed sheets, attaching them to two clipboards for the bottom of the beds. She turned to face him. ‘You know a group of doctors at one of the local hospitals invented this over thirty years ago.’ She waved the chart at him. ‘Now it’s used the whole world over. One of the doctors is still there. He’s a professor now.’

Brad raised his eyebrows. ‘Aren’t you just the little fund of information at three in the morning?’ He looked around again. ‘Haven’t you got some help? I’m not happy about you being here alone with two drunks.

There’s no telling how they’ll react when they finally come round.’

Cassidy pointed to a figure coming down the corridor. ‘Claire, the nursing auxiliary, is on duty with me. She was just away for a break. And if I need help from another staff nurse, I can call through to next door.’

She turned her head as she heard the lift doors opening and the first of the trolleys being pulled towards the ward. ‘Here they come.’ She scooted into the nearby six-bedded ward and pulled the curtains around one of the beds.

Five minutes later a very young, very drunk man was positioned in the bed, wearing a pair of hospital-issue granddad pyjamas. Cassidy wrinkled her nose at the vapours emanating from him. ‘Phew! He smells like a brewery. I could get anaesthetised by these fumes.’ She spent a few moments checking his blood pressure and pulse, checking his limb movements and trying to elicit a verbal and motor response from him. Finally she drew her pen torch from her pocket and checked his pupil reactions.

She shook her head as she marked the observations on the chart. ‘At least his pupils are equal and reactive. He’s reacting to pain, but apart from that he’s completely out of it.’ She checked the notes from A and E. ‘Any idea of a next of kin?’

Brad shook his head. ‘Neither of the guys had wallets on them. This one had a student card in his pocket but that was it.’

He raised his head as the rattle of the second trolley sounded simultaneously to his pager going off. He glanced downwards at the number. ‘It’s A and E again. Are you sure you’re okay?’

Claire had joined her at the side of the bed. ‘We’ll be fine, but just remember, there are no beds left up here.’

Brad nodded. ‘I’ll try to come back up later,’ he said as he walked down the corridor towards the lift.

Cassidy spent the next hour doing neurological observations on the two patients every fifteen minutes. Both of them started to respond a little better, even if it was belligerently. It was four o’clock in the morning now—that horrible time of night for the night shift where the need to sleep seemed to smack them straight in the head. Her eyes were beginning to droop even as she walked the length of the corridor to check on her patients. Sitting down right now would be lethal—she had to keep on the move to stay awake.

A monitor started pinging in one of the nearby rooms. ‘I’ll get it,’ she shouted to Claire. ‘The leads have probably detached again.’

She walked into the room of Mr Fletcher, a man in his sixties admitted with angina. Every time he’d turned over in his sleep tonight, one of the leads attached to his chest had moved out of place.

Cassidy flicked on the light, ready to silence the alarms on the monitor. But Mr Fletcher’s leads were intact. His skin was white and drawn, his lips blue and his body rigid on the bed. The monitor showed a rapid, flickering electrical line. Ventricular fibrillation. His heart wasn’t beating properly at all. Even though the monitor told her what she needed to know, she took a few seconds to check for a pulse and listen for breathing.

‘Claire!’ She pulled the red alarm on the wall, setting off the cardiac-arrest procedure as she released the brake on the bottom of the bed and pulled the bed out from the wall. She removed the headrest from the top of the bed and pulled out the pillows. Claire appeared at her side, pulling the cardiac-arrest trolley behind her. ‘I’ve put out the call.’ She was breathing heavily.

Cassidy took a deep breath. Brad was the senior doctor carrying the arrest page tonight. If he was still down in A and E, it would take him at least five minutes to get up here. Glasgow City Hospital was an old, sprawling building, with bits added on over time. It hadn’t been designed with emergencies in mind, like some of the modern, newly built hospitals were. The anaesthetist would probably take five minutes to get here, too.

It didn’t matter what the monitor said. Cassidy took a few seconds to do the old-fashioned assessment of the patient. Airway. Breathing. Circulation. No pulse. No breathing.

‘Start bagging,’ she instructed Claire, pointing her to the head of the bed and handing her an airway as she connected up the oxygen supply to the ambu-bag. She turned the dial on the defibrillator, slapping the pads on Mr Fletcher’s chest and giving it a few seconds to pick up and confirm his rhythm.

‘Stand clear,’ she shouted to Claire, waiting a few seconds to check she’d stood back then looking downwards to make sure she wasn’t touching the collapsed metal side rails. She pressed the button and Mr Fletcher’s back arched upwards as the jolt went through his body.

Her adrenaline had kicked in now. She didn’t feel sleepy or tired any more. She was wide awake and on alert, watching the monitor closely for a few seconds to see if the shock had made any impact on his heart rhythm. Nothing. Still VF.

The sound of feet thudded down the corridor as Brad appeared, closely followed by one of the anaesthetists. Brad’s eyes widened as he realised who the patient was. ‘VF,’ she said as they entered the room. ‘I’ve shocked him once at one hundred and twenty joules.’ Even though she had only been back on the ward for a month, she was on autopilot.

‘What happened?’ asked Brad. ‘He was pain free earlier and we had him scheduled for an angiogram tomorrow.’

‘Alarm sounded and I found him like this,’ she said. ‘He hadn’t complained of chest pain at all.’ She raised her knee on the bed and positioned her hands, starting the chest compressions. The anaesthetist took over from Claire and within a few seconds inserted an endotracheal tube. Cassidy continued the cycles of compressions as Brad pulled the pre-loaded syringes from the crash cart. After five cycles she stopped and their heads turned to the monitor again to check the rhythm.

‘I’m giving him some epinephrine,’ Brad said as he squirted it into the cannula in the back of Mr Fletcher’s hand. ‘Let’s shock him again.’ He lifted the defibrillator paddles. ‘Stand clear, everyone. Shocking at two hundred joules.’

Everyone stood back as Mr Fletcher’s body arched again. Cassidy went to resume the compressions. They continued for the next ten minutes with cycles of compressions, drugs and shocking. Cassidy’s arms were starting to ache. It was amazing how quickly the strain of doing cardiac massage told on shoulders and arms.

‘Stop!’ shouted Brad. ‘We’ve got a rhythm.’ He waited a few seconds as he watched the green line on the monitor. ‘Sinus bradycardia.’

He raised his eyes from the bed. ‘Cassidy, go and tell Coronary Care we’re transferring a patient to them.’

She ran next door to the coronary care unit, and one of their staff members came back through with her, propping the doors open for easy transfer. They wheeled the bed through to the unit and hooked Mr Fletcher up to the monitors in the specially designed rooms. In a matter of a few moments, he was safely installed next door.

Cassidy nodded at Brad as she left him there to continue Mr Fletcher’s care. Claire gathered up his belongings and took them next door while Cassidy quickly transferred him on the computer system.

She took a deep breath and heaved a sigh of relief. The adrenaline was still flooding through her system, her arms ached and her back was sore.

Claire appeared with a cup of steaming tea, which she put on the desk in front of her. ‘Okay, Cassidy? I nearly jumped out of my skin when that alarm sounded. He’d been fine all night.’

Cassidy nodded. ‘I hate it when that happens. Thank goodness he was attached to a cardiac monitor. I dread to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been.’

A loud groan sounded from the room opposite the nurses’ station. Cassidy stood back up. ‘No rest for the wicked. That will be one of our head-injury patients.’

Sure enough, one of the young men was starting to come round. Cassidy started checking his obs again, pulling her pen torch from her pocket to make sure his pupils were equal and reactive. His score had gradually started to improve as he could obey simple instructions and respond—albeit grudgingly. Hangovers didn’t seem to agree with him.

She moved on to the patient next door, who still appeared to be sleeping it off. As she leaned over to check his pupils, his hand reached up and grabbed her tunic. ‘Get me some water,’ he growled, his breath reeking of alcohol and his eyes bloodshot.

Cassidy reacted instantly, pushing him backwards with her hands to get out of his grasp. ‘Don’t you dare put a hand on me,’ she snarled.

‘Cass.’ The voice was instant, sounding behind her as Brad sidestepped around her, filling the gap between her and the patient.

The sunny surfer boy with cheerful demeanour was lost. ‘Don’t you dare touch my staff.’ He was furious, leaning over the patient.

The drunken young man slumped back against the pillows, all energy expended. ‘I need some water,’ he mumbled.

Brad grabbed hold of Cassidy’s hand and pulled her beyond the curtains. He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘He still requires neuro obs, doesn’t he?’

Cassidy nodded. ‘That’s the first time he’s woken up. His neuro obs are scheduled to continue for the next few hours.’

Brad marched over to the phone and spoke for a few moments before putting it back down. ‘I don’t want you or Claire going in there on your own. Not while there’s a chance he’s still under the influence of alcohol and might behave inappropriately. Somebody from Security will be up in a few minutes and will stay for the rest of the shift.’

He walked into the kitchen and picked up a plastic jug and cup, running the tap to fill them with water. ‘I’ll take him these. You sit down.’

Cassidy didn’t like anyone telling her what to do, especially in her ward. But for some reason she was quite glad that Brad had been around. It wasn’t the first time a patient had manhandled her—and she was quite sure it wouldn’t be the last. But there was something about it happening in the dead of night, when there weren’t many other people around, that unsettled her.

And as much as she wanted to fly the flag for independence and being able to handle everything on her own, she was quite glad one of the security staff was coming up to the ward.

Brad appeared a moment later, walking behind her and putting his hands on her taut neck and shoulders. He automatically started kneading them with his warm hands. ‘You okay, Cass?’

For a second she was still tense, wondering what Claire might think if she saw him touching her, but then relaxing at his touch. Her insides felt as tight as a coiled spring. What with the cardiac massage and the reaction of her patient, this was exactly what she needed. She leaned backwards a little into his touch.

‘Right there,’ she murmured as he hit a nerve. ‘How’s Mr Fletcher doing?’

Brad’s voice was calm and soothing. ‘He’s in the right place. The staff in Coronary Care can monitor him more easily, his bradycardia stabilised with a little atropine and his blood pressure is good. We’ve contacted his family, and he’ll be first on the list in the morning. He’ll probably need a stent put in place to clear his blocked artery.’

‘That’s good. Mmm … keep going.’

‘Your muscles are like coiled springs. Is this because of what just happened?’

She could hear the agitation in his voice.

‘I hate people who react like that. How dare they when all we’re trying to do is help them? He could have died out there, lying on the street with a head injury, getting battered by the elements. It makes my blood boil. If I hadn’t come in when I did …’ His voice tailed off then he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck—just for a second—brushing a light kiss on her cheek.

It was the briefest of contacts before he straightened up, reaching for the cup of tea Claire had made a few minutes earlier and setting it down on the desk in front of her. ‘Drink this.’ He folded his arms and sat down in the chair next to her, perching on the edge. ‘I need to go back to Coronary Care. What are you doing on Sunday? Want to grab some lunch?’

Cassidy hesitated, her stomach plunging. She had plans on Sunday. Ones she wasn’t sure about including Brad in. After all, he was just a fleeting moment in her life, a ‘passing fancy’, her gran would have said. She wasn’t ready to introduce him to her family yet. Especially in her current circumstances.

But the hesitation wasn’t lost on Brad. ‘What’s up? Meeting your other boyfriend?’ he quipped.

Her head shook automatically. ‘No, no.’ Then a smile appeared. ‘What do you mean, my other boyfriend? I wasn’t aware I had a boyfriend right now.’ Why did those words set her heart aflutter? This wasn’t what she wanted. Not with a man from thousands of miles away. Not with someone who would leave in less than a year. So why couldn’t she wipe the smile off her face?

He could see the smile. Distraction. Was that all that Cass was? What about how’d he had felt a few minutes ago when that drunk had touched her? The guy was lucky there hadn’t been a baseball bat around. Cass was getting under his skin. In more ways than one. And it was time. Time to tell her about Melody.

It would be fine. He’d tell her on Sunday. She would understand. She would get it. He had other priorities. He wanted to find his daughter, and that could take him anywhere in the world. Cassidy would be fine about it. She didn’t want a serious relationship with an Australian. She obviously didn’t mind the flirtation and distraction. Maybe she wouldn’t even mind a little more. Something more inevitable between them.

This wasn’t anything serious—she would know that. But he just didn’t want anyone else near her right now.

Brad stood back up. ‘Well, you do. So there.’ He planted another kiss firmly on her cheek. ‘And whatever you’re doing on Sunday, plan on me doing it with you.’ And with those words he strode down the corridor, whistling.

7 November

‘We seem to be making a habit of this.’ Brad smiled at Cassidy, his mouth half-hidden by the scarf wrapped around his neck, as she turned the key in the lock of the little terraced house in the East End of Glasgow.

His leather-gloved hand was at her waist and his body huddled against hers. It was freezing cold and the pavements already glistening with frost. Cassidy pushed the door open and stepped inside. ‘I’m afraid it’s not much warmer inside. Gran hasn’t lived here for over a year, and I have the heating on a timer at minimum to stop the pipes from freezing.’

Brad pushed the door shut behind him, closing out the biting wind. ‘I can’t believe how quickly the temperature’s dropped in the last few days. I’ve had to buy a coat, a hat and a scarf.’

Cassidy stepped right in front of him, her chestnut curls tickling his nose. ‘And very nice you look, too.’

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose, before rubbing his gloved hands together. ‘So what happens now?’

She led him into the main room of the house and pointed at some dark teak furniture. ‘The van should be here any time. It’s taking the chest of drawers and sideboard in here, the wardrobe in Gran’s bedroom and the refrigerator from the kitchen. The furniture goes to someone from the local homeless unit who’s just been rehoused.’

‘I take it there’s no chance your gran will ever come home.’

Cassidy shook her head fiercely, and he could see a sheen cross her eyes. ‘No. She fell and broke her arm last year. It was quite a bad break—she needed a pin inserted. She’s already suffered from Alzheimer’s for the past few years. I’d helped with some adaptations to her home and memory aids, but I guess I didn’t really understand how bad she was.’

Cassidy lifted her hands. ‘Here, in her own environment, she seemed to be coping, but once she broke her arm and ended up in hospital …’ Her voice trailed off and Brad wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

‘So where is she now? Was there no one else to help her? Where are your mum and dad?’

‘She’s in a nursing home just a few miles away. And it’s the second one. The first?’ She shuddered, ‘Don’t even ask. That’s why I agreed to the secondment. It meant I could spend a bit more time helping her get settled this time. Her mobility is good, but her memory is a different story—some days she doesn’t even know who I am. Other days she thinks I’m my mother. I can’t remember the last time she knew I was Cassidy. And now she’s started to get aggressive sometimes. It’s just not her at all. The only thing that helps is hearing my voice.’

The tears started to spill down her cheeks. ‘I know I’m a nurse and everything but I just hate it.’ Brad pulled his hand from his glove and wiped away her tears with his fingers.

He nodded slowly. So that’s what the telephone calls had been about. No wonder she’d wanted some privacy to take them. ‘So where’s your mum and dad? Can’t they help with your gran?’

Cassidy rolled her eyes. ‘My mum and dad are the total opposite of me. Sometimes I feel as if I’m the parent and they’re the children in this relationship. Last I heard, they were in Malaysia. They’re engineers, dealing with water-pumping stations and pipelines. They basically work all over the world and hardly spend any time back here.’

His brow furrowed. He was starting to understand Cassidy a little better. Her firm stance about staying in Scotland was obviously tied into feeling responsible for her gran. ‘So you don’t get much support?’

She shook her head.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

Cassidy looked around her. The pain was written all over her face. ‘Everything in this house reminds me of Gran. I packed up her clothes last month and took them to the Age Concern shop.’ She walked over to a cardboard box in the corner of the room, filled with ornaments wrapped in paper, crinkling the tissue paper between her fingers. ‘This all seems so final.’

The knock at the door was sharp, startling them both. Ten minutes later almost all the heavy furniture had been loaded onto the van by two burly volunteers. ‘The last thing is in here.’ Cassidy led them into the bedroom and pointed at the wardrobe. She stood back as the two men tilted the wardrobe on its side to get it through the narrow door. There was a clunk and a strange sliding noise.

Brad jumped forward. ‘What was that? You emptied the wardrobe, didn’t you, Cassidy?’

She nodded. ‘I thought I had.’

He pulled open the uptilted wardrobe door and lifted up a black plastic-wrapped package that had fallen to the floor. ‘You must have missed this.’

Cassidy stepped towards him and peered inside the wardrobe. ‘I can’t imagine how. I emptied out all the clothes last month. I was sure I got everything.’ She turned the bulky package over in her hands. ‘I don’t know how I managed to miss this.’ She gave the men a nod, and they continued out the door towards the van.

Brad thanked the men and walked back through to the bedroom. Cassidy was sitting on the bed, pulling at the plastic wrapper. There was a tiny flash of red and she gave a little gasp.

‘Wow! I would never have expected this.’ She shook out the tightly wrapped red wool coat and another little bundle fell to the floor. Cassidy swung the coat in front of the mirror. The coat was 1940s-style, the colour much brighter than she would have expected, with black buttons and a nipped-in waist.

‘This coat is gorgeous. But I can’t ever remember Gran wearing it. I don’t even think I’ve seen a picture of her in it. Why on earth would she have it wrapped up at the back of her wardrobe? It looks brand new.’

Brad knelt on the floor and picked up the other package wrapped in brown paper. ‘This was in there, too. Maybe you should have a look at them?’

Cassidy nodded and then gave a little shiver.

‘Let’s go to the coffee shop at the bottom of the road. It’s too cold in here. We’ll take the coat with us,’ he said.

She headed through to the kitchen and pulled a plastic bag from under the sink, carefully folding the red coat and putting it inside. ‘This coat feels gorgeous.’ She held the edge of it up again, looking in the mirror at the door. ‘And I love the colour.’

‘Why don’t you wear it?’ Brad could see her pupils dilate, just for a second, as if she was considering the idea.

She shook her head. ‘No. No, I can’t. I don’t know anything about it. I don’t even know if it belonged to Gran.’

‘Well, I think it would look perfect on you, with your dark hair and brown eyes. Red’s a good colour for you. Did you inherit your colouring from your gran?’

Cassidy still had her fingers on the coat, touching it with a look of wistfulness in her eyes. ‘I think so. I’ve only ever seen a few photos of her when she was a young girl. She was much more glamorous than me.’

Brad opened the front door as the biting wind whirled around them. He grabbed her hand. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we get a coffee to go and just head back to my flat? It’s freezing.’

Cassidy nodded as she pulled the door closed behind them and checked it was secure. They hurried over to the car and reached his flat ten minutes later, with coffee and cakes from the shop round the corner from him.

Although it was only four o’clock, the light had faded quickly and the street was already dark. ‘Look!’ screamed Cass. ‘It’s the first one!’

Brad dived to rescue the toppling coffee cups from her grasp. ‘What is it?’ His head flicked from side to side. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘There!’ Her eyes were lit up and her smile reached from ear to ear. He followed Cassidy’s outstretched finger pointing to a flat positioned across the street above one of the shops. There, proudly displayed in the window, was a slightly bent, brightly lit-up Christmas tree.

‘You have got to be joking. It’s only the seventh of November. Why on earth would someone have their Christmas tree up?’

He couldn’t believe the expression of absolute glee on her face. She looked like a child that had spotted Santa. ‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’

And there it was. That horrible twisting feeling inside his stomach. The one he was absolutely determined to avoid this year. That same empty feeling that he felt every year when he spent the whole of the Christmas season thinking about what he’d lost, what had slipped through his fingers.

He felt the wind biting at his cheek. Almost like a cold slap. Just what he needed. This year was going to be different. He’d done everything he possibly could. It was time to try and get rid of this horrible empty feeling. He’d spent last Christmas in Australia, the one before that in the US, following up some useless leads as to Alison and Melody’s whereabouts.

This year would be different. That was part of the reason he’d come to Scotland. A country that had no bad memories for him. A chance to think of something new.

Cassidy’s big brown eyes blinked at him in the orange lamplight. She’d pulled a hat over her curls and it suited her perfectly. ‘I really want to put my tree up,’ she murmured. ‘But it’s just too early.’ She looked down at the bustling street. ‘Only some of the shops have their decorations up. I wish they all had.’

This was it. This was where it started. ‘Christmas means different things to different people, Cass. Not everyone loves Christmas, you know?’

He saw her flinch and pull back, confusion in her eyes. There was hesitation in her voice. ‘What do you mean? Is something wrong? Did something happen to you at Christmas?’

He hesitated. How could he tell her what was currently circulating in his mind? He wasn’t even sure he could put it into coherent words. Melody hadn’t disappeared at Christmas, but everything about the season and the time of year just seemed to amplify the feelings, make them stronger. Most importantly, it made the yearning to see his daughter almost consume him. He blinked. She was standing in the dimmed light, her big brown eyes staring up at him with a whole host of questions.

He should tell her about Melody, he really should. But now wasn’t the time or the place. A shiver crept down his spine as the cold Scottish winter crept through his clothes. A busy street filled with early festive shoppers wasn’t the place to talk about his missing daughter.

And no matter how this woman was currently sending electric pulses along his skin, he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to share. He wasn’t sure he was ready.

‘Brad?’ Her voice cut through his thoughts, jerking him back to the passing traffic and darkened night.

He bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose, sliding his arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t be silly, Cass. Nothing happened to me at Christmas.’ He shrugged his shoulders as he pulled her towards him, guiding her down the street towards his flat. ‘I’m just mindful that lots of the people we see in the hospital over Christmas don’t have the happy stories to share that you do.’

She bit her lip, cradling the coffee cups and cakes in her arms as she matched his steps along the busy street. ‘I know that. I didn’t just materialise onto the medical unit from a planet far away. I’ve worked there a long time.’

But her words seemed lost as his steps lengthened and he pushed open the door to the close ahead of them.

Cassidy took off her bright blue parka and put it on the sofa. She’d seen something in his eyes. Almost as if a shadow had passed over them, and it had made her stomach coil. Was there something he wasn’t telling her?

She pulled the coffee cups from their holder and opened the bag with the carrot cake inside. This was exactly what she needed right now. The sofa sagged next to her as Brad sat down. He was still rubbing his hands together.

‘I can’t believe how cold it is out there.’

She smiled at him. ‘Get used to it—this is only the start. Last year it was minus twelve on Christmas Day. My next-door neighbour is a gas engineer and his phone was ringing constantly with people’s boilers breaking down.’ She picked up the cup and inhaled deeply. ‘Mmm. Skinny caramel latte. My favourite in the world. I haven’t had one of these in ages.’ She took a tiny sip then reached for the moist carrot cake.

‘So I take it the fact you have a skinny caramel latte counteracts the effects of the carrot cake?’

She winked at him. ‘Exactly.’ She raised her eyes skywards. ‘Finally, a man on my wavelength. They cancel each other out. And it’s a skinny caramel latte with sugar-free syrup. Which means I can enjoy this all the more.’ She licked the frosting from the carrot cake off the tips of her fingers.

‘With this …’ she nibbled a bit from the corner. ‘… a girl could think she was in heaven.’

‘I can think of lots of other ways to put a girl in heaven,’ the voice next to her mumbled.

Cassidy froze. Her second sip of coffee was currently stuck in her throat. You couldn’t get much more innuendo than that. Should she respond? Or pretend she hadn’t heard?

There was no denying the attraction between them. But did she really want to act on it? After a month in his company, what did she really know about Brad Donovan? She could give testimony to his medical skills and his patient care. He was amenable, well mannered and supportive to the staff.

But what did she really know about him? Only little snippets of information that he’d told her in passing. Stories about home in Australia, living in Perth and his training as a doctor. Passing remarks about childhood friends. He’d told her he had no wife or girlfriend.

So what else was it? What had made that dark shadow pass in front of his eyes? Why had he hesitated before answering the question? Or had she just imagined it all? Maybe there was nothing wrong, maybe something had caught his eye at the other side of the road, momentarily distracting him and stopping him from answering the question.

In the meantime, she could still feel that underlying buzz between them. Whenever he was near, she had visions of that night in his flat, pressed up against the wall in her sci-fi costume, wishing things could go further than they had.

Every time he touched her at work, even the merest brush of a hand was enough to set off the currents between them. It didn’t matter that her head told her this wasn’t sensible—he came from the other side of the world and would likely return there; her body was telling her something entirely different. Her imagination was telling her a whole host of other things …

He gave her a nudge, passing her the package he’d wedged under his jacket.

She stared down at the still-wrapped parcel in her hands, turning the brown paper package over and over.

‘Are you going to open it?’

She picked at the tape in one corner. It was old, the stickiness long vanished, and it literally fell apart in her hands, revealing some white envelopes underneath. She pulled them out. Only they weren’t white, they had yellowed with age, all with US postal stamps.

Her eyes lifted to meet his. Brad leaned forward, touching the pile of envelopes and spreading them out across the table. ‘There must be at least twenty of them,’ he said quietly. His fingers stopped at something. There, among the envelopes, was something else. A photograph. Brad slid the envelope that was covering it away and Cassidy let out a little gasp.

She leaned forward and picked up the black-and-white print. ‘It’s my gran!’ she gasped. His head met hers as they stared at the photograph of a beautiful young woman with a smile that spread from ear to ear, wearing a beautiful coat with a nipped-in waist. Her head was turned to the side and her eyes were sparkling as she looked at the man standing next to her in a US army uniform.

Cassidy was stunned. There were a million thoughts that crowded into her mind. A million conclusions that she could jump to. But one thing stood out above all the rest. ‘I’ve never seen her look so happy,’ she whispered. ‘Gran never looked like that.’

She turned to face Brad. ‘I don’t mean she was miserable—she was fine.’ She pointed at the photograph. ‘But I can’t ever remember her looking like that.’

She didn’t want to say anything else. She didn’t know what to think. She’d just glimpsed a moment from the past, and it almost seemed sacred. The coat and letters had been hidden a long time ago by a woman who obviously hadn’t wanted to throw them away but hadn’t wanted them to be found. In a way, it almost felt like a betrayal.

She ran her finger over the photograph. ‘I don’t think I can even ask Gran about this. She’s too far gone. I can’t even remember the last time that she recognised me.’

Brad’s arm wrapped around her shoulder. She could feel his breath at her neck. What would he be thinking?

The same kind of thing that she was? That her gran had lost her heart to some US soldier?

She didn’t want to think like that. It seemed almost judgemental. And it seemed wrong that Brad’s first glimpse into her family was revealing something she hadn’t known herself.

And she couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt a little. It had been just her and Gran for the last ten years but she’d never told Cassidy anything about this. She’d been a modern woman, liberal-minded and easy to talk to. Why had she kept this to herself?

His voice was quiet and steady as he whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t even think about asking her about it, Cass.’ He lifted the photograph from her hand and sat it back down on the table. ‘Take it as it is. A happy memory from your gran’s life. She’s beautiful in that picture. You can see the happiness in her eyes. Why shouldn’t she have had a time like that?’ His finger ran down the side of her cheek. ‘She looks a lot like you.’

Cassidy turned to face him. His mouth was only inches from hers and she subconsciously licked her lips. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for.

It had taken him so long to kiss her again after the party. She didn’t want to wait any longer. She didn’t want to imagine any longer. She wanted to feel.

Her hands slid up around his neck as she pulled him closer. His mouth was on hers instantly, just the way she’d imagined. He pushed her backwards on the sofa, his hands on either side of her head as he kissed her, gently at first, before working his way down her neck, pushing her shirt open.

His body was warm, heating hers instantly. She could feel his whole length above her, and her hands moved from around his neck, down his back and towards his hips, pulling him closer to her.

This time there was no one else in the flat. This time they wouldn’t need to stop. This time they could do what they wanted.

She pushed aside the rational side of her brain that was clamouring to be heard. She could worry about all that later. Her body was responding to him with an intensity she’d never experienced before. She’d already had a glimpse of the washboard abs when he’d changed in the doctors’ office. Now she didn’t just want to look—she wanted to touch, to feel, to taste.

He lifted his head, pushing himself back a little. His voice was little above a groan. ‘Cass?’

The question only hung in the air for a fraction of a second. She didn’t want to think about this. Right now she didn’t care that he was from Australia and would probably go back there. Right now all she cared about was that he was here, now, with her.

A slow smile appeared on his face. ‘Wanna stay over?’

He had no idea how sexy he was right now. His clear blue eyes were hooded with desire. She could feel his heart thudding against his chest. All for her.

She pressed herself against him again. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

He pulled her to her feet and led her towards his bedroom door, undoing the buttons on her shirt as they went. Her legs were on autopilot and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

He pressed her against the wall. ‘I seem to remember being in this position with you before, Cassidy Rae.’ His voice was deep, throaty, turning her on even more.

‘I was playing hard to get,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Did it work?’

He turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. ‘Oh, yes.’ He crawled towards her, poising himself above her. Her shirt was open now, leaving her breasts exposed in their black satin push-up bra. He bit at the edge with his teeth. ‘Now, this doesn’t look like ordinary underwear.’ His fingers dug around her hips, sliding down the back of her jeans and finding the edge of her matching black g-string. ‘Did you have something in mind when you got dressed this morning, Cass?’ His low, sexy laugh sent shivers of delight down her spine.

It wasn’t her normal underwear. But she could hardly even remember getting dressed this morning. Had she done this subconsciously, hoping she would end up in this position?

‘Let’s just say I’m a girl of many secrets.’ She pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his pecs and tanned abdomen. If she hadn’t been so turned on, she might have pulled in her stomach and worried about him seeing her curves. But from the look on his face, he liked what he was seeing. ‘I have lots of gorgeous sets of underwear. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you see the red set,’ she moaned as he started to kiss her neck, ‘or the blue set …’ Her hands were dipping lower on his body, to the front of his jeans where she could feel him throbbing against her. ‘Or, if you’re really lucky, I’ll let you see the green set.’

He let out a groan. ‘I can guarantee I’ll love the under wear—no matter what colour. But what I love most is what’s underneath. He traced his fingers down her throat as she arched her back in response. Then slid his hand underneath her, unfastening her bra strap and leaving her breasts exposed. ‘Now, what can I do with these?’ he murmured.

Cass pushed herself upwards, her breasts towards his mouth. ‘You can start by getting rid of the rest of these clothes,’ she commanded as she undid the buttons on his jeans, before wriggling out of her own. She waited as he discarded his jeans and underwear, before pushing him down on the bed and setting her legs astride him.

‘I like this,’ he murmured. ‘A woman who likes to be in charge.’

‘Oh, I’m always in charge,’ she breathed in his ear as she ran her hands down his chest. ‘And anyway, I’m examining your skin. You’re way too tanned.’ Her hands stopped at his nipples, brushing around them onto the fine hair on his chest. ‘I feel it’s my duty to check you for any areas of concern.’ She lifted her hips and rubbed against him again.

He groaned. ‘Anywhere in particular you’d like to start?’

She smiled and leaned over him again, her hardened nipples brushing against the skin on his chest. She swayed against him. ‘I’ll need to think about that.’

Brad let out a primal roar. He grabbed her and flipped her around on the bed so he was poised above her. ‘Enough teasing. You’re going to be the death of me.’

His fingers reached down and dispensed with her g-string. She could feel the heat rise inside her. She was aching for him. He touched her and she gasped, tilting her hips upwards to him. ‘Oh … this is going to be so good.’

‘You bet it is,’ he whispered in her ear, the stubble on his jaw scraping her shoulder.

‘Mmm … Where else am I going to feel that?’

‘Wherever you like.’

He moved for a second, reaching into the nearby drawer, and she heard the rustle of a condom wrapper being opened. Ten seconds later he was above her again. ‘Are you ready?’ he whispered.

‘Oh, yes …’ She opened her legs further and gasped as he plunged inside her.

He stopped, just for a second. ‘Okay?’

She took a deep breath, while the full sensation surrounded her. Then she pulled his hips even closer, taking him deeper inside. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she groaned. ‘I’ve got you just where I want you.’

‘Ditto.’ He smiled again as he moved slowly, building momentum between them as he trailed a line of kisses down the side of her face and throat.

And there it was—the fever that had been building between them for weeks. All the looks and lingering glances. All the brief touches. All the electricity buzzing around them like fireflies. The first kiss, with its strained finish. All building to this crescendo, where nothing and no one could get between them.

Cassidy could feel her skin start to tingle. Nothing else was more important than this. Nothing else had ever felt as good as this. Nothing else had ever felt this right. This was perfect.

She let herself go, throwing her head back and crying out his name, as she felt him stiffen at the same time.

She felt her body turn to jelly, the air whooshing out from her lungs. Brad was still above her, his whole body weight now resting on her, his heart thudding against her chest.

She let out a laugh. Sweat slicked them together as she gave him a playful push. ‘Move, mister, I can hardly breathe.’

He pushed himself up and sagged down beside her.

‘Wow.’

Cassidy was breathing heavily, her eyes staring up at the ceiling and fixing on the still-pink light shade above her. She turned to the sandy-blond head on the pillow beside her, a smile creeping across her face. ‘Yeah, wow,’ she murmured.