Читать книгу Angels In The Snow - Sarah Morgan - Страница 10

STELLA turned sideways and looked at herself in the mirror. Was she overdressed? Perhaps she should have just worn jeans. On the other hand, if it went well they were going on to a restaurant afterwards, so jeans might not be dressy enough.

She looked fine. It was just that the dress reminded her of Daniel.

He’d always loved her in red and the last time she’d worn this dress they’d—

Remembering what they’d done, Stella yanked the dress over her head and threw it on the bed with the other clothes she’d tried on. It was no good. She couldn’t wear it. It just felt wrong. And the pile of clothes on the bed was growing.

Stella stared in the mirror, reminding herself that this was a new relationship. A whole new chapter of her life. And Daniel wasn’t in her life any more.

And the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about him made it even more important for her to go out with someone else.

Exasperated with herself, she grabbed the red dress again, relieved that no one was watching her. If anyone had seen how indecisive she was about a stupid dress, they’d fire her from her job.

She zipped it up a final time and then tried to do something with her hair, but there was so much static after all the clothes she’d pulled on and off over her head she just gave up in despair and left it loose.

Realising that she was going to be late if she didn’t move fast, she eyed the clothes on the bed and decided she’d have to tidy them up later. Grabbing her favourite pair of black boots, she pulled them on and dragged her coat out of the wardrobe.

By her bed were various bags, filled with the beginnings of her Christmas shopping. Realising how much she still had left to do was enough to induce a panic attack, so she put the thought aside and reminded herself there was plenty of time until Christmas.

Fifteen minutes later she was in the car park of the pub, her heart thumping so hard she felt dizzy.

What if she knew someone in the pub?

She’d intentionally picked somewhere she didn’t usually go, but this part of the Lake District was a relatively small community.

What if Alfie was right and Mr ‘Caring of Cumbria’ was a creep?

Feeling like turning round and driving straight home, it took all of her willpower to step out of the protective cocoon of her little car and walk across the icy car park to the small village pub.

What was the matter with her? It was just a drink, for goodness’ sake. A drink and a meal. If it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t see him again.

As she pushed open the heavy door the warmth hit her and she felt daunted by the throng of people standing shoulder to shoulder at the crowded bar.

Deciding that she’d wait for it to calm down a bit before trying to buy herself a drink, Stella made her way to an empty table by the fire and slid discreetly onto the chair. Aware that everyone in the pub was staring at her, she wished she’d bought herself a drink. At least then she would have had something to do with her hands.

Feeling self-conscious, she removed her coat, but left her scarf round her neck. Staring at the fire, she found herself thinking of Daniel. Then she realised that she didn’t want to think about Daniel and gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t allowed to think about Daniel. The whole idea of this exercise was not to think about Daniel.

The door to the pub opened, letting in a rush of cold air and a flurry of snow. A short man in a pinstripe suit walked cautiously into the pub, snow clinging to his polished shoes. Hovering on the edges of a group of men dressed in thick cable knit jumpers and sturdy boots, he looked as out of place as a ballerina on Mount Everest.

Stella fought a sudden desire to whip off the red scarf she was wearing and slide under the table out of sight. She couldn’t do that, could she? It would be rude. After agreeing to meet, the least she could do was have a drink with him.

But the thought of spending an evening with him made her feel so intensely gloomy that she contemplated texting Ellie and asking her to bring her emergency call forward by an hour.

Watching his tentative attempts to reach the bar, Stella couldn’t help comparing him to Daniel.

Would this man be bold enough and strong enough to rescue a vulnerable child from a snowy ravine? Would he be cool and decisive enough to make life-and-death decisions, as Daniel did every day in the emergency department?

She turned her head away and stared at the fire, wondering why all the comparisons she was making were against Daniel’s good points. Why couldn’t she focus on his bad points? The man hovering nervously at the bar probably wouldn’t propose to a woman one day and then change his mind a few hours later. The man at the bar was probably extremely patient with people less intelligent than him. He wanted children, and Daniel had made it clear that he had no intention of ever becoming a father. Those were the things she should be thinking about.

So why, knowing all that, was she still thinking of Daniel when she looked at the man at the bar?

The whole situation felt so hopeless that a lump formed in her throat. Getting over someone wasn’t as easy as just finding someone else. It didn’t work like that.

Stella slid her phone out of her pocket, intending to text Ellie and ask her to bring her call forward. But then a girl emerged from the crush at the bar and kissed the man on the cheek.

Feeling impossibly relieved, Stella put the phone back in her pocket.

All that worry and anxiety and it wasn’t even him. But now she had a new worry.

What if he didn’t turn up?

The door opened again and she glanced up expectantly.

Daniel stood in the doorway, flakes of snow clinging to his dark hair and broad shoulders, a dangerous look in his eyes.

‘Dan.’ The barman called out a greeting and Stella frowned slightly because she hadn’t realised that he frequented this pub.

He said something that she didn’t catch and glanced around the noisy pub.

Stella slid down in her seat and tried to be inconspicuous, but she knew it was hopeless. There was no way he could fail to spot her. He was going to want to know what she was doing here and she was going to have to confess that she was meeting a stranger. How sad was that? Not only had she had to resort to the internet to meet a man, but he hadn’t turned up. Her confidence in herself suddenly evaporated.

She was unattractive and she was never going to meet anyone.

‘Stella?’

Accepting the inevitable, she looked up at him.

Flakes of snow clung to his sleek dark hair and his jaw was dark with stubble. With the bulk of his shoulders and those long, strong legs, he looked strong, tough and imposing. A man who was afraid of nothing.

Nothing except commitment, Stella reminded herself wearily, producing what she hoped was a decent imitation of a smile. ‘Hi, Daniel. This is a surprise. I thought you had a date with your lawyer at eight. You’re going to be late. Will she sue you?’

He didn’t laugh. In fact, he seemed a long way from laughing. ‘What are you doing here on your own?’ His ice-blue eyes glittered in the firelight and he pulled out a chair and sat down, nodding his thanks as the landlord discreetly placed a drink in front of him.

Stella fiddled with her scarf. ‘They give you free drinks here?’

‘His daughter fell in a climbing accident last summer. Nasty head injury. Tricky evacuation.’

‘And you rescued her?’

‘I was part of the team.’

Despite his concise, factual answer, Stella knew instinctively that he would have been the one to rescue the girl and manage the head injury. ‘Have you had many callouts lately?’

‘I don’t want to talk about the mountain rescue team.’ Daniel’s eyes were fixed on her face. ‘Tell me why you’re here.’

That was the other thing about Daniel. He came straight to the point.

‘I—I fancied a drink.’

‘On your own?’

‘No, not on my own. I was supposed to be meeting someone but he’s been …’ She licked her lips. ‘He’s been delayed.’

‘Who are you supposed to be meeting? Your new boyfriend?’

Something in his tone made her look at him closely and she saw the tightness of his mouth and the deadly gleam of his eyes under the veil of thick, dark lashes. ‘Why does it matter to you?’

‘Because I don’t think you should meet strange men in pubs.’ His tone abrupt and gritty, Daniel lifted his drink and Stella sensed that he knew.

He knew she was seeing someone she’d met on the internet.

Stella wondered why that felt so humiliating. ‘Who told you?’

‘That doesn’t matter.’ He put his drink down on the table with a thump. ‘What matters is that you’ve arranged to meet a guy you don’t know. Have you no sense of self-preservation?’

Startled by the anger in his voice, Stella looked at him. ‘I’m in a crowded pub,’ she said reasonably. ‘What’s going to happen?’

‘He’ll invite you back to his place and—’ Daniel broke off, his eyes on her neckline.

‘What?’

‘You’re wearing your red dress.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Exasperated and self-conscious, Stella reached for her coat and pulled it on. ‘I like this red dress. And I’m on a date. Go away and leave me alone, Daniel.’ She’d hoped that the feelings she’d had for him had died, but she was fast discovering that life wasn’t as simple as that.

‘It isn’t the right dress to wear with someone you’ve never met.’

‘I wanted to look nice!’

‘You’re asking for trouble.’

‘Well, it’s hard to get into trouble with someone who hasn’t even turned up.’ Smarting with humiliation and anger, Stella picked up her bag and stood up. ‘Thanks for the feedback, Dan.’ Furiously angry with him, and with herself for caring what he thought, Stella walked quickly out of the pub.

The cold punched her in the face and she told herself that it was the weather that was making her eyes water as she picked her way across the icy car park towards her car. The temperature had dropped and a bitter wind breathed freezing air over her as she snuggled deeper inside her coat. Her windscreen was opaque with ice and she pulled a scraper out of her bag and attacked the ice, her fingers numb with cold as it showered over her hands. Scraping methodically, she wondered whether every Christmas was destined to be a romantic disaster for her.

Last Christmas she’d been working and the nearest she’d got to romance had been when a ninety-year-old patient had assured her that if he’d been six decades younger he would have married her. The Christmas before that—well, she wasn’t even going to think about that one but this one didn’t promise to be too much better.

The way the festive season was unfolding it looked as though she was going to need to stock up on comfort food.

As she pulled her car keys from her pocket and turned to unlock the car, her feet slid from under her and she would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t caught her.

‘Careful. It’s icy.’ Daniel’s rough, masculine voice was next to her ear and she wrenched herself away from him.

‘Let me go, Dan.’ Terrified that she wasn’t going to be able to hold it together, Stella shrugged him off with as much dignity as she could and opened her car door. ‘I wish I could say it was nice bumping into you, but it wasn’t.’

With a rough curse he turned her to face him, his hard, powerful body pressing her back against the cold metal of the car. ‘Why are you meeting men on the internet?’

‘Because I don’t meet any decent ones in real life!’ Her eyes clashed with his and then his hands slid into her hair and his mouth came down on hers.

It was so sudden and unexpected that she had no time to react.

The warmth of his mouth was such a contrast to the ice cold wind brushing her cheeks that she moaned in shock. And then she was responding to the seductive pressure of his kiss, her arms winding around his neck, her body trembling against his solid, masculine strength. His fingers tightened on her face, his kiss demanding and erotic as he created fire and flame with his mouth and tongue.

It was an explosion of pure sensuality, a heated, unfaltering, indulgent expression of passion that neither of them was able to halt.

And then the pub door opened behind them and the sound of laughter penetrated their sensual haze. Daniel tore his mouth from hers, swore fluently and stepped away from her. Raising his hands in a gesture of apology, he shook his head in disbelief, regret visible in his eyes. ‘Stella, I didn’t mean to—’

‘Oh, get away from me, Dan,’ she choked, sliding into the car and slamming the door, her body still reeling from that kiss. She didn’t know which was worse—the fact that he’d kissed her or that fact that he hadn’t meant to do it.

Damn, damn, damn. She should have pushed him away and showed him that she wasn’t interested.

Why hadn’t she done that?

Why hadn’t she slapped his indecently handsome face?

Her hands shaking, she started the engine, crunched the gears, set the wipers going, skidded the car and then swung onto the road, desperate to get away from him.

Oh, God, she was going to have an accident if she carried on like this.

The knowledge that it would probably be Daniel who would patch her up if she was taken to the emergency department was enough of an incentive to make her slow her speed.

Fortunately the roads were deserted and she switched off the wipers that were moving snow across her windscreen and turned the heating as high as it would go.

What a total disaster.

The evening was supposed to have been the first step in her Daniel Recovery Programme, instead of which she’d slipped right back into her old habits. It was like surviving an earthquake only to be trapped in a lethal aftershock.

It was all his fault. He was the one who had kissed her. Why couldn’t he have just left her alone? Or why hadn’t she slapped his face?

Furious with herself and even more furious with him, Stella crunched the gears again, tears blurring her vision as she drove down the narrow, empty roads that led to Patrick’s barn.

It had been stupid to come back to the Lake District again. It was all very well having grand ideas about dating other men but the truth was she didn’t want another man.

She wanted Daniel. She always had. And it didn’t matter how unsuitable he was, she still wanted him. Patrick was right—love wasn’t something you could switch on and off.

Her vision blurred and as she pulled into the courtyard of the barn, she almost crashed into the back of Patrick’s car.

Slamming her brakes on just in time, the car slid to a halt a mere centimetre from his bumper and she switched off the engine and closed her eyes.

What next?

Her car door opened. ‘Are you trying to kill yourself or me?’ Patrick took one look at her frozen features and leaned across and undid her seat belt. ‘Come on. You look as though you need a drink.’

‘Actually, I don’t need a drink.’ Her teeth were chattering. ‘I just want to be by myself.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Patrick pulled her gently out of the car. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried that in your situation. It doesn’t work. Much better to have company when you’re feeling down.’

‘You’re the wrong company. I need to yell and say bad things about your brother.’

‘You can yell and say bad things about my brother. I promise not to defend him.’ Patrick locked her car and pushed her towards the stable. ‘We’ll use your place. Mrs Thornton is staying the night so there’s no guarantee of privacy in mine.’

Stella pulled the keys to the stable out of her pocket and promptly dropped them.

With a sigh, Patrick stooped and picked them up. ‘Thank goodness you’re not working in Resus tonight. I gather “Caring of Cumbria” wasn’t what you were hoping for. Was he ugly?’

‘I have no idea. He didn’t turn up.’ Stella pulled off her boots and dropped them by the door. ‘Unfortunately, Daniel did.’

‘Dan was at the pub?’ Patrick closed the door behind them. ‘I thought he had a date with the lawyer.’

‘Well, apparently he found the time to come and ruin my evening first.’ Stella filled the kettle, grateful for the cosy warmth of the stable. ‘Patrick, it’s really sweet of you to check up on me, but I’d like to be on my own.’

Ignoring her, Patrick slid onto one of the tall stools by the breakfast bar. ‘So Daniel turned up—that’s interesting.’

‘It wasn’t interesting.’ Stella pulled a mug out of the cupboard. ‘It was inconvenient, thoughtless, annoying—since you’re determined not to let me have my tantrum on my own, do you want a coffee?’

‘Please. Black, no sugar. I need the caffeine—I have a feeling I’m going to be back at the hospital soon.’

Stella made the coffee. ‘You work too hard.’

‘You sound like my ex-wife.’ Patrick gave a wry smile and lifted his hand in a gesture of apology. ‘Forget I said that—you’re nothing like my ex-wife.’

‘Do you hear from her?’

‘No, and the only reason I care is for the kids. I can’t believe she can just turn her back on her own children.’ His tone was hard. ‘Do you know what really gets to me? The fact that Alfie is OK about it. He saw so little of her that he’s hardly noticed her absence.’

Stella handed him a mug. ‘He’s a sweet boy.’

‘I just hope all of this hasn’t put him off relationships. I worry that he’ll think marriage isn’t a good idea. Like Daniel.’

‘Alfie doesn’t seem to think that. It always amazes me how much children see. He’s pretty wise for ten years old.’ Stella passed him a packet of biscuits. ‘I keep them for Alfie’s visits. Please eat them or I’ll eat them all myself. I’m in that sort of mood. Why did Daniel have to turn up at the pub tonight? Just bad luck, I suppose.’

Patrick took a biscuit. ‘Bad luck doesn’t take you to a pub when you have a date on the other side of town.’

‘You don’t think it was an accident that he was there?’ Stella warmed her cold hands on her mug. ‘How could he possibly have known where I was meeting the guy? Even you didn’t know.’

‘Actually, I did.’ Patrick pulled a face. ‘Alfie told me.’

Stella groaned. ‘Alfie? You think he said something to Daniel?’

‘I think he might have done. The two of them were talking earlier. Money changed hands. Sorry, Stella.’

‘It isn’t Alfie’s fault. And to be honest, it wasn’t even a secret. I suppose I didn’t imagine for a moment Daniel would be interested. And even if he knew where I was going …’ Stella put her mug down. ‘Why would he bother coming? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘Doesn’t it? If you want my opinion, I think my beloved twin couldn’t face the thought of you seeing someone else. It isn’t just me he doesn’t want you to have a relationship with.’ Patrick took a mouthful of coffee. ‘It’s anyone. What does that tell you?’

‘That he’s lost his mind,’ Stella muttered, rubbing her forehead with her fingers as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. ‘He didn’t want me.’

‘Oh, he wanted you, angel. And he obviously still wants you.’

Did he want her? Stella thought about the kiss and felt her cheeks turn pink. Quickly she picked up her coffee again. ‘Even if the chemistry is still there, nothing has changed.’ She was saying it to remind herself as much as Patrick. ‘We want different things.’

‘Yes. I know. That’s what makes the whole thing complicated.’ Patrick suppressed a yawn. ‘So what did he say to you tonight?’

‘He basically turned into a macho, chest-thumping, over-protective …’

Stella ran out of adjectives. ‘He didn’t like the idea of me meeting a stranger.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘You didn’t turn up and hang over me.’

‘No, but I confess I did ring the landlord and ask him to watch out for you.’ Patrick handed her his empty mug. ‘I’d better go. I need to check that Alfie isn’t watching unsuitable movies.’

‘You rang the landlord?’ Stella was stunned by that confession but Patrick simply smiled.

‘Daniel isn’t the only Buchannan brother who can be macho and over-protective.’ He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodnight. I’ll leave you to your internet search. Next time make sure you pick someone who is going to show up.’