Читать книгу Her Christmas Eve Diamond - Scarlet Wilson, Scarlet Wilson - Страница 8

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.’