The Nurse′s Christmas Wish
The Nurse's Christmas Wish
Sarah Morgan
Christmas is coming, but for E.R. consultant Mac Sullivan it’s just another day. Since losing his wife two years ago, he’s thrown himself into work and has no interest in serious relationships.Enter nurse Louisa Young, who brings warmth, sparkle and Christmas into his E.R. department. The question is, can she bring it into his life as well? Louisa’s one Christmas wish is that maybe, just maybe, she can melt the ice that surrounds the gorgeous consultant’s heart…
Christmas is coming, but for ER consultant Mac Sullivan it’s just another day. Since losing his wife two years ago, he’s thrown himself into work and has no interest in serious relationships.
Enter Nurse Louisa Young, who brings warmth, sparkle and Christmas into his ER department. The question is: Can she bring it into his life, as well? Louisa’s one Christmas wish is that maybe, just maybe, she can melt the ice that surrounds the gorgeous consultant’s heart…
The Nurse’s Christmas Wish
Sarah Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Cover (#uea7aea29-f6f7-5023-b983-dc2aeeaa2872)
Back Cover Text (#u8bf2d3c1-9ffa-57fb-ae63-e256e4e34c0e)
Title Page (#u36bc2989-9f06-55f4-9b94-847dd19353c6)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_d0d6b9df-27fb-5fbe-ac61-1db3b4a2264b)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4f2f5d24-4ea4-58ef-bf47-381d2c4169f3)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_20b36489-133b-5869-bf1d-78335cd37cf1)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fedaa239-3cff-5aa1-ae71-47b0706789c3)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
‘YOU’RE going to love me. I’ve solved all your problems.’
‘I don’t have any problems.’ He had hundreds of problems. Mac Sullivan tucked the phone under his ear and carried on sifting through the pile of post he’d scooped from the mat just before the phone had rung. He’d only been at the hospital for two days and yet the door would barely open. Where the hell had it all come from? He turned his attention to the phone call. ‘And if this is the point where you tell me you’ve fixed me up with another blind date then I ought to warn you that I’m leaving the country. If you weren’t my brother I’d have knocked your teeth down your throat before now.’
‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Josh said easily, ‘but in this case it would be the wrong move. It’s not a blind date. But I have chosen you a great Christmas present.’
Mac binned the post without opening it and strolled through to the kitchen, the phone still tucked under his ear. He winced at the mess. The remains of a takeaway lay dried up and congealing in foil containers and unwashed dishes were stacked on every available surface.
‘I don’t need a Christmas present, I need a housekeeper,’ he muttered, glancing towards the overflowing bin with something close to desperation. ‘Or a brother who clears up after himself. Why doesn’t someone invent a bin that empties itself?’
‘Last time I looked, ours was emptying itself,’ Josh said mildly, ‘mostly over the kitchen floor. And housekeepers always leave because they fall in love with you. Personally I find you a moody, sarcastic bastard but for some inexplicable reason women seem to find that irresistible. You need to smile more and cut out the brooding, Heathcliffe look and maybe they could concentrate on looking after the house.’
Choosing to ignore his brother’s remarks, Mac flicked on the kettle and hunted in vain for a clean mug. ‘I’m putting in another advert.’
‘It’s Christmas in less than two weeks,’ Josh reminded him. ‘Everyone is shopping and cooking and decorating the house with lights. They don’t want to come and clear up our mess. No, in the short term we’re in trouble. But in the long term, you need to get married again. That would solve everything.’
Married?
Mac closed his eyes and the breath hissed through his teeth. ‘I don’t think so.
He was better off alone.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. ‘You can’t lock yourself away for ever,’ Josh said softly. ‘It’s time to move on.’
‘I have moved on.’
‘So why are you living in that massive house on your own?’
Because he liked being on his own.
Mac opened his eyes and glanced at the mess. ‘Last time I looked, you were living in it with me. And I wish you’d learn to clear up after yourself. This place is a pit.’
‘You’ll miss me when my boathouse is finished,’ Josh said cheerfully, and Mac gave a ghost of a smile as he took a last glance around the kitchen.
‘Will I?’ He strode out of the kitchen and closed the door firmly behind him. The mess depressed him and he was too tired to tackle it. ‘How are things there? Did you transfer the aorta guy to Theatre?’
‘Don’t change the subject. We were talking about you getting married again.’
‘You were talking about that, not me,’ Mac said irritably. Marriage definitely wasn’t on his agenda. ‘Did you get him to Theatre before it ruptured?’
Josh sighed. ‘Yes, but you need to stop thinking about work. You need to ease off and develop different areas of your life. Achieve some balance.’
Mac frowned into the phone. ‘Balance? Have you been reading women’s magazines? And were you working in the A and E department with me last night or not? Did you happen to notice any drunk, abusive patients, brainless drivers and idiots who can’t walk along an icy pavement without breaking a limb? Because they were all out in force. I’m knackered and I need my bed. I don’t have time for balance and I don’t have time for your psychobabble.’
‘I’m not giving you psychobabble, I’m telling you where you’re going wrong with your life.’
‘That’s why you called?’ Mac eyed the mud on the hall floor and exhaled slowly. He was never in the house. How did it get so dirty? ‘To tell me where I’m going wrong with my life? Thanks.’
‘Actually, I called to arrange delivery of your Christmas present. I’ve gone to a lot of effort. It’s important that you’re in.’
Mac checked his reflection in the hall mirror and grimaced. He looked like a bandit. He needed a shave and a sleep, although possibly not in that order. ‘We never bother with Christmas presents.’
It was just one more thing to think about.
‘Well, this year, we’re bothering. Or, at least, I am.’
Mac sighed and made a mental note to buy something useless for his brother. ‘All right, if you want to play Santa, we’ll play Santa. But I hope my stocking is full of bottles.’
‘Alcohol isn’t the answer.’
‘Surely that depends on the question.’
Josh chuckled. ‘You’re supposed to be a respectable doctor,’ he reminded him sternly, his voice suddenly muffled as he broke off to issue some instructions to someone who was passing,
Mac eyed his reflection. ‘I am a respectable doctor.’
Even if he didn’t look like one.
‘Well, just make sure you’re in to answer the door because it can’t be left on the doorstep.’ There was a yawn in his brother’s voice. ‘I’ll still be stuck here up to my armpits in broken bones and hacking coughs. I should have been a GP.’
‘Then you would have seen a hundred patients a day with nothing wrong with them. Are you serious about this?’ Mac shook his head in exasperation as he contemplated the possibilities. ‘You’ve seriously bought me a Christmas present?’
‘Yeah.’ His brother’s voice was a mocking drawl. ‘It’s the festive season, just in case you hadn’t noticed. And knowing you, I’m sure you hadn’t. To you, Christmas is just another day of work.’
‘Fortunately for my patients.’ Matt strolled through to his enormous living room. His enormous, empty living room. It was devoid of all evidence of Christmas. The long French windows faced the sea, providing him with a perfect view of wild surf, thrashed into a furious frenzy by winter winds and bitter cold. Most people preferred to sample the delights of the Cornish coast in the summer but he’d always preferred it in the winter. In the summer it belonged to the tourists, the hordes of visitors who arrived with buckets and spades and giggling children, covering the beach outside his back door. And then the weather cooled and they departed, leaving him to enjoy the best part of the year with other committed locals. To some it would have seemed stark and lonely but he loved the wildness. And he had no intention of adding tinsel just because it happened to be two weeks before Christmas. It was just something else to clear up.
‘In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t exactly my favourite time of year.’ He stared out at the ocean, realising that it had been weeks since he’d even found time to windsurf. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he was working too hard.
‘I know this isn’t your best time of year, Mac.’ His brother’s voice softened slightly. ‘But it’s been two years since Melissa died and Santa’s missed you. Get back on the horse, bro. It’s time.’
Time for what?
Mac’s fingers tightened on the phone. ‘I appreciate the thought.’ His voice was rough. ‘But I like my life the way it is.’
Busy.
‘All you do is work, but my present is going to change all that. I’ve got to go.’ Josh suddenly sounded harassed and Mac heard the sound of an ambulance siren and voices in the background. ‘What’s the matter with our department? The tourists have gone home and we’re still inundated in A and E. We need to do some accident prevention work around here. Stop people driving too fast on narrow Cornish roads when it’s icy.’
‘It keeps us busy.’ And he liked to be busy. Work was his life. Work was his saviour. ‘What’s happening about the nursing situation?’
‘All sorted. She starts on Monday.’
Mac frowned. ‘Who starts?’
‘The new A and E nurse. She’s a whiz. You’ll love her. And now I’ve got to go. Lives to save. Nurses to impress. Talk to you later. Merry Christmas.’ The phone went dead and Mac gave a sigh and replaced the handset.
He could just imagine what his brother was facing. They were so understaffed at the moment that the situation was becoming almost dangerous. As the consultant in charge of the department, he’d put his case to the hospital authorities on several occasions, but nothing had been done and the arguments were always the same. No more budget. And no staff willing to bury themselves in the depths of Cornwall, particularly in the winter.
Which meant that Christmas was going to be busy.
Exactly the way he liked it.
CHAPTER ONE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
IT WAS her perfect house.
And there was no one home.
Louisa tried the doorbell again and cuddled her long wool coat around her to keep out the freezing wind. It had started snowing again and soft flakes settled on the ground and clung to her tumbling dark hair. She’d only stepped out of her car a few minutes before and already her fingers were freezing and she couldn’t feel her toes.
If she was going to spend Christmas here, she needed more clothes.
She gave a shiver and pressed the bell again, this time keeping her finger on it for much longer. Someone had to be there. Josh had assured her that his brother would be at home. That he was expecting her.
Giving up on the bell, she took a step backwards and looked at the huge white house. It was gorgeous. The sort of house she’d dreamed about as a child. The sort of house that should have been full of kids and dogs and laughter. She stared, wistfully. On the ground floor, huge glass windows faced out to sea across a wide deck, piled with drifted snow. A large, rambling garden stretched all the way down to the sand dunes, wild and neglected.
It was a house with a story to tell. And today there were no signs of life.
Remembering everything that Josh had told her about his brother and why he hated Christmas, Louisa stared anxiously at the house.
Just how much did Mac Sullivan hate Christmas?
Did he hate it enough to—to...?
She gazed up at the huge windows and bit her lip. Christmas was a bad time of year for lots of people, even without tragedy in their lives. What if he was lying in there, an empty bottle of tablets by the side of his bed? Maybe he’d left a note—
No.
She shook herself and wished her imagination wasn’t quite so lively. He was probably just watching TV or something. He probably couldn’t hear the doorbell.
Wishing she’d worn a thermal vest under her jumper, Louisa walked up to the window and peered inside, hoping to see signs of life.
She’d been told to arrive at lunchtime and this was lunchtime.
The living room was elegantly furnished with large white sofas set on a rich wooden floor, but the room had a formal feel that suggested that no one actually sat on the sofas. The cushions were plumped and smooth, like something prepared for a photographic shoot for an upmarket magazine.
It didn’t look lived in.
She frowned thoughtfully. A house like this was meant to be a home and this didn’t look like any home she’d ever imagined. Especially not at Christmas. A room like that should be filled with holly and presents and a massive tree.
Did Mac Sullivan have no one to buy presents for?
Had he shut everyone out since his wife had died?
Blowing on her fingers to warm them, Louisa gazed up at the upstairs windows but they were all firmly shut.
Worry started to gnaw at her brain again and she gave a shiver and mentally listed the options. She could stand still and wait for someone to turn up, but that could take for ever and would be of no help at all if he was really in trouble. Or she could give up on the whole idea and drive back to London, but that would mean being unemployed. And being on her own at Christmas. Not to mention letting Josh down when she’d promised she’d step in and help.
And, anyway, she couldn’t possibly leave before she knew that Mac was all right.
Which meant finding another way into the house so that she could check that he wasn’t lying in a heap somewhere.
Deciding that living in rural Cornwall meant being resourceful, she picked her way through the snow to the back of the house and immediately saw the open window.
Her eyes narrowed as she measured the space. Just large enough for her to wriggle through.
It had been a while since she’d used a window to gain access to a building but in this case it seemed like the only option. And she was expected so it could hardly be classed as breaking and entering, could it?
* * *
Mac heard the muffled thud the moment he switched off the shower. Someone was in the house.
He was being burgled.
Questioning the sense of tackling a burglar half-naked, he grabbed a towel from the heated rail and looped it round his hips before padding barefoot onto the landing to investigate.
There was another clatter and he winced. Whoever it was didn’t have a great future as a burglar.
Probably someone who knew he was a doctor and thought he might keep drugs on the premises. Some crazed addict looking for a fix?
His dark hair was wet from the shower and he raked it out of his eyes with an impatient hand before reaching for a hammer that he’d used a few days before to put up a shelf.
His dark eyes gleamed with anticipation and he walked softly downstairs, his feet leaving damp marks on the carpet. As he reached the bottom, he wondered whether it was better to take the man by surprise or make a din and warn him of his presence.
In the end he went for the surprise option. Growing up with a brother, he’d never been afraid of the physical. He was six feet two and he had a black belt in judo. He was pretty confident that he could take most people, even dressed only in a towel.
The noise came from the visitors’ toilet and Mac’s mouth tightened as he recalled the number of occasions he’d asked Nicola, the last and most determined of his housekeepers, to sort out a lock for that window. It hadn’t closed for months but it was one of the many things that she hadn’t managed to fix before she’d walked out on him. Once he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a relationship it had appeared that she was no longer interested in working for him.
And his house was falling apart. He spent too long at the hospital to do more than the most basic maintenance and this house needed far more than basic.
And now he was paying the price.
Shifting his weight to prepare for a fight, Mac pushed open the door to the toilet and pounced, his weight taking the other person down hard. ‘Don’t move!’
There was a shocked gasp from beneath him. ‘How can I possibly move? You weigh a ton! And you’re soaking wet!’
Registering a distinctly feminine voice, Mac gave a grunt and shifted his weight slightly, his hands grasping hers firmly and holding them above her head. He didn’t intend to drop his guard just because his intruder was a woman.
He stared down into the widest, brownest eyes he’d ever seen and felt something stir inside him. She was soft and yielding under him and she smelt like a dream. Clouds of dark hair dusted with snow framed a perfect heart-shaped face and her soft cheeks were pink from the cold. And she was laughing.
‘OK, muscle man—are you going to lie on top of me all day?’ She sounded slightly breathless as she gazed up at him, her smile almost as wide as her face, ‘because I ought to warn you that you’re making it jolly hard for me to breathe.’
He rolled away from her, thinking that she looked nothing like a burglar.
She looked like something straight out of a bad boy’s dream.
Reminding himself that he wasn’t interested in becoming involved with a woman, especially one who had just wriggled through his toilet window, he frowned down at her.
‘What the hell are you doing, climbing through my window? You were looking for a doctor?’
‘Well, in a manner of speaking, I was looking for a doctor, yes.’ She struggled to sit upright, her long legs going in different directions like a foal who still hadn’t quite got the hang of standing. ‘But I’m not a patient. Or at least I wasn’t until you landed on top of me. Now I’m not so sure. I think there’s a distinct possibility that I’m injured. Possibly seriously. Were you planning to use that hammer on me?’
‘Only if you proved to be especially violent,’ Mac said dryly, placing the hammer on the window-seat and holding out a hand to help her up. Her skirt had ridden up almost to her bottom and he found his attention snagged by her legs. She had fabulous legs. ‘Do you always climb through windows when you’re looking for a doctor?’
‘Never before. But I was worried that you might be lying unconscious at the top of the stairs, unable to call for help. I thought you might need rescuing.’ She reached out and took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, surprised to find that she wasn’t as tall as he’d thought. Obviously most of her was leg.
He dragged his eyes away. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’
‘Because I rang the doorbell and no one answered.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And that meant I was lying unconscious? You didn’t think I might be out buying a loaf of bread?’
‘I have a vivid imagination,’ she confided happily, her wide smile lighting up her whole face. Her eyes were the colour of rich coffee and a few freckles dusted her nose. ‘There didn’t appear to be a shop open in the village, so you couldn’t have been buying bread.’
‘So you thought you’d break in?’ He stared at her with incredulity. ‘Is that a frequent habit of yours?’
‘Only when essential. It’s part of my naturally interfering personality.’ She brushed herself down and shook the snow out of her hair. ‘I’m so relieved you’re all right. So, if you weren’t lying unconscious, why didn’t you answer the door?’
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘Because I was in the shower.’
‘At lunchtime?’
Mac sighed, wondering why he was explaining himself to this woman. ‘I was up all night in the unit. Motorbike accident. The roads are lethal at the moment. When I came in I spent ten minutes arguing with my brother and then got stuck into some paperwork before deciding to take a shower. Are there any more details of my life that you feel you need to know?’
She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘Probably, but they can wait until later. The most pressing thing is to dry myself off and get settled in. Where do I put my things?’
Deciding that he must be more tired than he’d thought, Mac stared at her blankly. ‘Put your things? What do you mean, put your things?’
She waved a hand towards the window. ‘I left my bags in the car but the boot leaks terribly so I really ought to bring them in before they get damp. It’s snowing again. But, of course, you know that because it’s all over me.’ As if to prove her point, she shook herself like a kitten and more snow drifted onto the floor. ‘Let’s look on the bright side. At least I didn’t fall head first down your toilet. That would have been an unhappy experience.’
Mac studied her in silence, an uneasy suspicion forming in his mind. ‘You haven’t told me what exactly you’re doing here...’
‘No, I haven’t, have I?’ She smiled warmly and held out a hand. ‘Your brother said I could come. I needed somewhere to stay and he told me you needed help. So here I am. Apparently I’m your Christmas present. Pleased to meet you, Dr Sullivan.’
* * *
Her new boss had a fantastic body and at the moment virtually every delicious inch of him was on display.
Louisa stood in the corner of the small room, trying not to focus on that broad chest or the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. If she’d needed the perfect illustration of the male anatomy then it was standing in front of her. His body was hard and tough with no soft edges. The body of a man used to strenuous physical activity.
And as for the rest of him…
With a huge effort of will she stared into his cold, handsome face and forced herself to breathe normally.
Josh had told her that the house was huge. He’d told her that the Cornish seaside fishing village was so small that you couldn’t sneeze without the entire population asking you about your cold the next morning.
What he’d failed to mention was the fact that his brother was drop-dead gorgeous.
And angry.
His eyes glittered dangerously and there was no trace of amusement in his hard features.
‘Is this some sort of joke?’ His voice was suddenly icy cold and he was looking at her with all the enthusiasm of a pathologist looking at a deadly virus. ‘How can you be my Christmas present?’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Because your brother arranged it. I’m Louisa.’
He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like, ‘I’m going to kill him.’
Louisa stood for a moment, waiting patiently, and finally he opened his eyes and his gaze fixed on hers.
‘All right, this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to rescue your things from your car before they’re soaked, we’re going to get you dried off and then we’re going to sit down and talk about this. Because whatever you and my little brother have cooked up between you, it isn’t going to work for me. Once you’ve had a hot drink and dried off, I’m sending you on your way.’
Louisa looked at him. ‘Josh didn’t tell you I was coming?’
He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure exasperation. ‘No. Well, yes, sort of. He told me he’d arranged my Christmas present. He just omitted to tell me what it was.’
Louisa covered her mouth with her hand and gurgled with laughter. ‘That’s so like Josh. He probably thought that if he told you in advance, you’d refuse to let me through the door.’
His black eyes were flint hard and as cold as the Arctic. ‘He would have been right.’
Oops.
She smiled placidly, refusing to let him intimidate her. ‘So it’s just as well I came through the window, then.’ She’d never met a man with more defences but she wasn’t put off by his lack of warmth. Josh had warned her that his older brother would try and keep her at a distance and she had no intention of being sent away until she’d helped. And she knew she could. ‘OK.’ She glanced down at herself with a rueful smile. ‘I’m dripping all over your floor. If you don’t want me to catch a cold, you’d better show me where I can get dried off and changed.’
He studied her for a moment and then let out a sigh of undisguised exasperation. ‘Upstairs, first on the right. There’s a guest bedroom and bathroom. Use it and then you can be on your way. In the meantime, I’ll get your things. Keys?’
He held out a hand and she looked at him blankly. ‘Oh...’ She smiled in sudden comprehension. ‘I never lock my car. It’s such a wreck no one in their right mind would ever want to steal it.’
She followed him into the hallway and stopped dead in the large hallway, her eyes fixed on the sweeping staircase. ‘A fairy-tale staircase. I’ve never actually seen one in real life, only in films. That’s amazing,’ she said huskily, her gaze wistful as she gazed upwards. ‘Just like the one in Gone with the Wind. You could sweep a woman off her feet and carry her up those stairs—’
‘Or she could walk,’ he said tightly, piercing her dream with a sardonic lift of a dark eyebrow. ‘I thought you were catching cold?’
Obviously not a romantic.
‘I am.’ She walked slowly up the stairs, trailing her hand lovingly up the oak banister. ‘The wood is beautiful.’
‘I restored it,’ Mac said irritably, and she peeped at him quizzically.
‘You know, you should probably get some sleep.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because you look tired. You’re also very, very crabby and that’s always a sign of tiredness.’
His dark eyes burned into hers. ‘It’s also a sign that my brother has introduced a strange woman to my house when I don’t need one.’
‘Men are always hopeless at knowing what they need,’ Louisa said sagely, ‘but fortunately for them, women are here to help them work it out. Do you think you could rescue my bag from the boot before everything is soaked through?’
He was staring at her with an expression of stunned disbelief on his handsome face. ‘Your bag...’ His tone was almost faint. ‘I’ll get it.’ He seemed to shake himself. ‘And once you’ve dried off, you’re leaving. I’m not blaming you and it isn’t personal. I’m fully aware that none of this is your fault and I intend to take it up with my brother. Bedroom is second on the right.’
Ignoring the frost in his tone and the ice in his eyes, Louisa followed his instructions and pushed open the door. The place had been decorated like a traditional beach house. Floor-to-ceiling windows, scrubbed floorboards and a huge bed covered in white bedding and creamy throws. There were touches of blue, interesting pieces of driftwood and piles of shells stacked in pretty bowls. Even in the depths of winter the room seemed to feel summery and light. And she loved it. She gazed out of the window as Mac strode in with her bags.
‘You were right. They’re soaking wet. Put them near the radiator and they should dry off.’ He dumped them on the floor and frowned at her. ‘Is something wrong?’
Her eyes were still on the sea. ‘Oh, no, nothing’s wrong—’ She broke off and cleared her throat. ‘Everything is right. I just love it here.’
Her dream.
A house by the sea. A village where everyone knew each other. Surely in a place like this a person could belong.
‘Well, don’t get too settled. You won’t be staying.’ His frown deepened and there was a moment’s silence, as if he regretted his rudeness. ‘Most people hate the beach in the winter,’ he said gruffly. ‘They find it wild and lonely.’
Louisa thought of her early childhood spent in a cramped high-rise flat in the middle of a soulless city until Social Services had taken her away. ‘I suppose loneliness means different things to different people.’ She pulled herself together and turned to face him, a bright smile on her face. ‘I’ll take a shower and change, if that’s all right with you, and then we can meet downstairs so that you can tell me again that this is all a mistake and I can’t possibly stay.’
He paused for a moment, his dark eyes wary, and then he gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be difficult to shift?’
Without waiting for an answer, he left the room and Louisa stared after him thoughtfully. ‘Oh, I’m not going to be difficult to shift, Dr Mac Sullivan,’ she muttered thoughtfully. ‘I’m going to be impossible.’
He needed her.
She’d always been good at reading people. It was her special gift. And all her senses warned her that Mac Sullivan was a troubled man. She could feel the tension in him. Feel the way that he pushed people away. Shut himself off.
Josh was right about one thing, she mused as she unzipped her bag and pulled out a warm jumper. His brother was going to do everything in his power to get her to leave.
She cuddled the jumper and for a moment her eyes swung back to the sea. The winter wind whipped the waves into a foaming mass and the sky was grey and laden with the threat of more snow.
It was cruel and cold and unwelcoming.
So why did she feel she was finally home?
CHAPTER TWO (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
DOWNSTAIRS, Mac put the kettle on the Aga and called his brother. ‘I owe you a black eye. Your Christmas present just arrived.’
His brother chuckled. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous? I’ve excelled myself, haven’t I?’
Mac felt the irritation rise. ‘When I need a pimp,’ he said tightly, ‘I’ll ask for one.’
‘Hey!’ Josh’s voice was suddenly sharp. ‘Don’t speak that way about Louisa. Believe it or not, this time I’m not fixing you up. This isn’t about sex.’
Mac rolled his eyes as he waited for the water to heat. ‘With you, everything is about sex and you’ve been trying to fix me up since the day Melissa died. And frankly I just don’t need it. I don’t need another woman in my life.’
He was no good at relationships.
He was better off on his own.
An image of Louisa with snow scattered through clouds of curling dark hair filled his brain and he pushed it away. It was all part of his brother’s plan and he wasn’t falling for it. He was perfectly satisfied with his life.
‘This isn’t just about you.’ Josh sighed. ‘Mac, we’re drowning under work. We don’t have time to turn around. We need someone to help in the house and we need another nurse in the department. Louisa fits both slots. She’ll make all our lives easier. If you frighten her off, I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.’
‘She’s the nurse you were talking about?’ Momentarily preoccupied, Mac suddenly felt steam sear his wrist and stepped back with a soft curse. Functioning on automatic, he lifted the kettle off the heat and ran his arm under the cold tap, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, Josh, really I do.’ He increased the flow and frowned at the red streak appearing on his wrist. ‘But I don’t need my brother arranging my love life.’
‘No, what you need is to stop shutting people out,’ Josh said shortly, ‘and that’s why I’ve bought you Louisa.’
‘You’ve bought me Louisa?’
‘I’m paying her salary for a month. After that it’s up to you. But Louisa is the nicest person I know. A real giver. And on top of that she’s a brilliant A and E nurse. She’s going to be the answer to our prayers, bro, so stop complaining. It’s just for Christmas.’
‘If she’s so wonderful, why aren’t you sleeping with her?’
‘Truthfully?’ Josh laughed. ‘Because she wouldn’t have me. She’s too wise. But she’s one of my favourite people. Let her stick around and you’ll see why.’
Mac turned off the cold tap. ‘I have no intention of letting her stick around. If she wants to work in A and E, that’s great, heaven knows, we need the staff, but she’s not living here with us.’
He needed his space. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being closeted with someone over the Christmas period. When he wasn’t working he just wanted to be left on his own.
He wanted peace and quiet and his own company.
He didn’t want tinsel and forced jollity.
‘Fine.’ Josh’s tone was cool. ‘Then she’ll be homeless but I dare say she can sleep in a hedge. It won’t be the first time. I’ve got to go. Patients calling.’
Mac replaced the receiver and cursed under his breath. He was well aware that Josh was the reason he’d got his life back together after Melissa had died.
But, dammit, that didn’t give him the right to interfere with every aspect of his life. He was doing OK, wasn’t he? He didn’t need any help. And he certainly didn’t need to be given a woman as a Christmas present. Even if she was stunning, had impossibly long legs and smelt as good as a summer’s day.
He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to find her standing in the doorway, watching him, those coffee-brown eyes fixed on his face in silent question.
The shower had turned her cheeks pink and her dark hair hung down over her shoulders in a damp, curling mass.
She was astonishingly pretty and against his will his eyes slid to her soft mouth, noting that her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper lip. In fact, he noticed a lot of things he would rather not have noticed.
Mac ran a hand over the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. ‘I’ve been up half the night and I’m knackered. I don’t need this right now...’
Her gaze slid over the kitchen, resting on the piles of unwashed plates, the mountains of cold, half-eaten food and the empty bottles. ‘Looks to me as though this is exactly what you need,’ she said softly, a sympathetic look in her eyes as she looked back at him. ‘You know, when life gets tough, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. People should help each other. Particularly at Christmas.’
He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t need help.’
She waved a hand and glanced around her pointedly. ‘Well, you need something, Dr Sullivan. Starting with a dressing for that burn. Do you have a first-aid kit?’
He looked down at the vicious red mark on his arm. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s blistered.’ She walked across to him and took his arm, moving it slightly so that she could take a better look. ‘And if you don’t dress it, the chances are it will get infected and then it will certainly be something. First-aid kit?’
He inhaled sharply and jerked his head. ‘In that cupboard.’
Maybe if he let her dress his wound, she’d be satisfied and leave.
His eyes tracked her as she walked across the room, noting the swing of her hips and the grace of her movements. Then she reached up into the cupboard and he caught a glimpse of a perfect, rounded bottom hugged by snug jeans. Something long dormant sprang to life inside him.
‘OK.’ She delved in the cupboard and withdrew the right box. ‘Let’s hope there’s something decent in here. Most of the doctors I know aren’t great at putting together first-aid kits.’
She flipped it open, pulled out a few items and then walked towards him. ‘Sit down.’
He tensed. ‘I feel fine. I don’t need to sit down.’
She put the first-aid kit on the table. ‘But you’re at least six-two and I’m just normal-sized,’ she said patiently. ‘If you stand up, it makes it harder for me. Sit.’
He sat, telling himself that he could at least assess her dressing technique.
She worked quickly, her fingers deft and gentle as she dealt with the burn and, for some inexplicable reason, her obvious skill irritated him.
He’d wanted her to be clumsy and inept so that he had an excuse to yell at her. But her touch was skilled and smooth, her movements economical and practised.
Cursing his brother, he sucked in a breath and pulled himself together. ‘Look, I’m going to be blunt and if that offends you then I apologise.’ He wondered which bit of her smelt so good. Was it her hair or her perfume? ‘The department needs a nurse to cover the Christmas period but that’s all we need. I don’t know what my brother has said to you but I don’t need anything more personal.’
Soft brown eyes lifted to his. ‘Is that what you think this is? A set-up?’ Her eyes danced with laughter as she covered the dressing with a bandage and secured it firmly. ‘You think I have to pay for sex, Dr Sullivan? Do I look that desperate?’
Momentarily captivated by the thickness of her dark lashes, Mac felt a kick of pure lust in his groin. This girl undoubtedly had men dropping to their knees. He might have done so himself at one time had he not decided that it was all too complicated. Women wanted something that he wasn’t capable of giving.
‘I’m just saying I don’t need a blind date,’ he said tightly, and she laughed.
‘I know you don’t. But you need me. Look at the state of your kitchen.’
His gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I work twenty-two hours a day at the hospital.’
Her eyes softened with sympathy. ‘I know, and it isn’t good for you, but all that’s going to change now I’m here. A lot of things are going to change, starting with the state of your house,’ she said soothingly, closing the first-aid box and returning it to the cupboard. ‘I can do all that, Dr Sullivan. When I’m not working in A and E I can make your life more comfortable. You’ve got me for a month. Make the most of me.’
‘Are you seriously telling me you’re prepared to clear up my kitchen?’ Mac stood up and swayed. Damn. He was more tired than he’d thought. ‘Whatever happened to equal rights? I didn’t think women did things like that any more.’
She washed her hands and dried them. ‘Well, I just happen to like creating a home. It’s my hobby. And if I don’t clean up your kitchen, we’ll all die of something horrible so it’s in my own interests. Don’t worry. You’ll be pulling your weight. You can carve the turkey, I’m hopeless with knives.’ She frowned. ‘You look shattered. When did you last sleep?’
Sleep? Mac closed his eyes and tried to remember. He gave up. ‘Too long ago.’
‘Then go,’ she said calmly, giving him a little push. ‘Forget everything and just sleep. We’ll sort everything out when you wake up.’
Her smoky, gentle voice oozed over him, soothing his jarred emotions. He stared at her blankly, fatigue paralysing his normally sharp brain. ‘You expect me to go to sleep and leave you here?’
‘Dr Sullivan.’ Her eyes twinkled like lights on a Christmas tree. ‘I’ve never forced myself on a man yet and I don’t intend to start now. Neither do I intend to steal the silver. Go to bed. And don’t bother to lock your door. You’re perfectly safe.’
He stared down into those chocolate brown eyes and felt something shift inside him.
And he knew he wasn’t safe at all.
* * *
Louisa started in the kitchen.
Humming to herself, she filled three large bin bags with the rubbish and took them outside and then ran the dishwasher twice while she threw out piles of papers and scrubbed at the stubborn rings on the kitchen table.
Two hours later the surfaces and the floor were gleaming and the crockery was clean and neatly stacked away in the cupboards. Having checked the contents of the fridge and found them decidedly lacking, she was glad she’d had the foresight to stop at the supermarket on the way and stock up on emergency provisions.
She retrieved the bags from her little car and emptied them into the cupboards. Then she set about making supper.
Remembering the remains of the take-away on the kitchen table, she decided that her impromptu shopping trip had been inspired. She chopped, fried and stirred, filling the kitchen with delicious smells. Satisfied that the food would look after itself for a while, she took a last glance around the now gleaming kitchen, threw out some ancient newspapers and takeaway menus and gave a nod.
‘Much better. Now for the rest of the house.’ She strolled out of the kitchen with the intention of being thoroughly nosy. For a man living on his own, Mac Sullivan had a big house.
She opened the door to the living room and blinked. It looked as though the room had never been used. ‘Like something out of a magazine,’ she observed to herself, closing the door again and walking back into the hall. Two more huge reception rooms, an elegant conservatory with views of the sea and the downstairs cloakroom that had been her route into the house.
Unlike the kitchen, the rest of the house was tidy.
Unlived in.
She almost preferred the kitchen, she mused. At least it showed signs of life. The house felt cold and uninhabited. As if someone had given up hope.
Was that what had happened? she wondered.
Had Mac Sullivan given up hope when his wife had died?
She didn’t know much about it, of course. Only the little that Josh had told her, that his older brother had lost his wife in a car accident two years earlier. And that he’d done nothing but work ever since.
Noticing the footprints on the hall floor, Louisa gave a sigh and wandered back into the kitchen to retrieve the mop.
Mac Sullivan might be a dedicated doctor but he definitely needed some help with the rest of his life.
* * *
Mac slept without moving for three hours and then woke to find that it was already dark.
He lay for a moment, listening to the winter wind howling around the house and trying to work out what was different, and then he remembered Louisa.
Cursing his interfering brother, he grabbed some clothes and made his way downstairs.
There was no way she was staying. He’d find her somewhere in the village. And he’d find her somewhere tonight. Before she had the chance to mess with his life.
Bracing himself for an unpleasant scene, he pushed open the kitchen door and stopped dead.
His brother Josh was convulsed with laughter, his feet up on the kitchen table—the scrubbed, tidy kitchen table—while Louisa stood in front of the Aga, talking non-stop and stirring something that smelt delicious. Her dark hair spilled down her back and her cheeks were flushed from the heat.
She looked extremely happy and totally at home.
‘Hi.’ She broke off in mid-sentence and threw a smile at him, still stirring. ‘You slept well. Supper will be ready in five minutes if you’re interested. If you’re not then it will keep until later. I wasn’t sure when you’d be hungry.’
Mac opened his mouth to tell her that she had to leave and then the smell hit him again. He wavered, caught in a battle between his stomach and his brain. His stomach won. He’d eat and then he’d tackle the subject.
‘Fine.’ He sprawled in the nearest chair, noticing that the floor was gleaming and the bin was empty. In fact, if it hadn’t been in his house, he wouldn’t have known it was his kitchen. ‘It looks great in here,’ he said stiffly. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re very welcome.’ She removed the pan from the heat and reached for a wooden board. Her hands moved quickly, chopping, slicing and mixing, and then bowls started appearing on the table.
Mac watched with something close to fascination. He’d never actually watched a woman cook before. Melissa had been a career-woman so on the rare occasions that they’d been in at the same time to eat, they’d lived on fast food and take-aways. And his mother had always had help in the house.
Watching Louisa was like watching an artist at work.
Josh sniffed and gave a moan of pleasure as she placed a bowl of fluffy rice in front of him. ‘I’m not the marrying type, but I swear to heaven I’d marry you if you’d have me, Louisa.’
‘You’re safe, Josh,’ Louisa said soothingly, turning away to lift a casserole out of the Aga. ‘I wouldn’t have you in any shape or form. Given the contents of the take-away cartons, I gather you both like Indian food so I’ve made you curry, but hopefully mine is a tastier and healthier option.’
Mac glanced at the array of dishes and felt his taste buds spurt. ‘You made curry?’
He was starving.
‘That’s right.’ She went back to the oven and removed several more dishes. ‘That’s a lamb rogan josh and a chicken pasanda—very creamy with almonds. Rice, naan bread, spinach with garlic and green beans. Enjoy.’
Deciding that difficult conversation could definitely wait, Mac helped himself, piling his plate with food and then turning his attention to his brother. ‘So—what happened today?’
Without lifting his eyes from his plate, Josh reached for his beer. ‘Usual story. Too many patients. Too few staff. Any chutney, Lu?’
Louisa pushed the dish towards him. ‘It’s fresh chutney. Tomatoes, red onion, coriander—try it. It’s better for you than that sugary stuff you had hanging around in the fridge which, by the way, expired a year ago so I threw it out.’
Josh gave a sheepish smile. ‘Oops.’
‘The forecast is bad. It’s going to be a difficult Christmas,’ Mac said, forking lamb curry into his mouth. For a moment he sat still, savouring the flavour. A fabulous mix of spices exploded onto his palate and he just managed to stop himself groaning with pleasure. ‘This is amazing.’
‘Glad you like it.’ Louisa helped herself to some chicken. ‘Why are you so busy at work? Surely there aren’t many tourists at this time of year?’
‘Difficult to attract staff to deepest Cornwall,’ Mac said, chewing slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Which makes me wonder what you’re doing here.’
Why would she agree to come and live with strangers at Christmas?
Josh choked on his beer. ‘For crying out loud, Mac, finish the food before you insult the woman. If she deprives us of seconds, I’ll kill you.’
Mac didn’t smile, his eyes still on her face, searching for clues. What exactly was she expecting from him?
She held his gaze. ‘I’m making your life easier, Dr Sullivan. That’s what I’m doing here.’
He glanced round his kitchen. ‘Housekeepers don’t usually work out.’
‘Because they keep hearing wedding bells.’ Louisa’s tone was placid and her eyes twinkled with humour. ‘Josh told me. Don’t worry, Mac, you’re very good-looking but you’re not my type.’
‘So what’s your type?’ The question left his lips before he could stop himself, but she simply laughed.
‘I haven’t met him yet, but when I do, I’ll let you know and I’ll invite you to the wedding. More curry?’
Mac sat unresisting as she spooned the rich sauce onto his plate. ‘Are all your meals as good as this one?’
‘Well, if you’ll let me stay, you’ll find out,’ she said cheerfully, a dimple appearing in her cheek. ‘If you throw me out, you’ll never know.’
It occurred to Mac that she smiled more than any woman he’d ever met.
But he was still going to ask her to leave. As soon as he’d finished eating.
‘So you’re an A and E nurse?’
‘That’s right.’ She poured herself a glass of water. ‘I left my last job a few weeks ago.’
‘Why?’
Josh let out an exasperated sigh. ‘For goodness’ sake, Mac. You sound like the Spanish Inquisition.’
‘Are you always this suspicious?’ Louisa sipped her water and then put the glass down on the table. ‘I’m a perfectly competent nurse, if that’s what’s worrying you. Your unit sister has my references if you want to check them.’ She broke off and hesitated briefly. ‘And I left because I didn’t want to be in London on my own at Christmas.’ She stood up and started stacking plates into the dishwasher. ‘I always get restless at this time of year.’
Mac sat back in his chair. ‘You don’t like Christmas?’
‘Oh, I love Christmas,’ she said softly, closing the dishwasher with a click. ‘It’s my favourite time of year.’
He sensed that she was going to say something more and then her mouth closed firmly and she carried on clearing up. He watched as she busied herself around the kitchen and wondered what she was hiding.
Because he had a feeling she was hiding something.
He took a deep breath and prepared to question her further, and then he caught the warning gleam in his brother’s blue eyes. ‘All right. You can stay.’ What the hell was he saying? ‘Just for now. Once you start working in the department you’ll find you won’t have time to clean up after us.’
She’d get fed up and leave and that would save him the bother of sending her away.
The tension seemed to ooze out of her. ‘I can stay? Really?’ Her voice was husky and curled itself around his insides like velvet. ‘Thank you.’
Josh grinned and put down his fork. ‘Thank goodness for that. She would have been a pretty difficult Christmas present to send back.’ He raised his glass and winked at Louisa. ‘To a decent Christmas dinner for once in our lives.’
CHAPTER THREE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
‘SO MY Christmas present has so far tidied your house and cooked you an amazing meal. And the coffee she left for us this morning was the best I’ve tasted. Any time you want to thank me, just go ahead.’ Josh threw a smug smile at his brother and held out his hand to one of the A and E nurses, who was hovering with some X-rays. ‘Are those for me?’ He took the X-rays, flicked on the light box and whistled. ‘Just look at that.’
‘I’m looking.’ Mac narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s a nasty fracture. Did you call the orthopods?’
‘No, I thought I’d fix it myself in my lunch-break,’ Josh drawled sarcastically, a wry smile touching his mouth as he glanced at his brother. ‘Of course I called them. What do you think I am, a first-year medical student who you have to watch out for?’
‘Sorry.’ Mac gave an apologetic smile and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘You may be a consultant but to me you’re still my kid brother.’
‘The kid brother who works like a dog so that you can get some sleep at night,’ Josh reminded him, yanking the X-ray out of the light box and returning it to the brown envelope. ‘I’d better go and talk to the relatives. Have you seen Louisa this morning? How’s she getting on?’
‘At first glance she seems good,’ Mac conceded, walking with his brother back through the department towards the trolley bay. ‘Certainly knows her way round an A and E department.’
‘And she knows her way round a kitchen, too, which has got to be good. I’m sick of take-aways.’ Josh gave a shudder and came to a halt outside one of the treatment rooms. ‘Just don’t frighten her off with any more of your sharp remarks. I’m looking forward to tasting proper turkey for the first time in years.’
Mac sighed. ‘I want to make sure that she doesn’t get any ideas. She was giving me ‘‘I want to save you’’ looks this morning.’
It happened all the time since Melissa had died and it drove him nuts.
‘Has she thrown herself at you?’
‘No, but—’
‘Trust me.’ Josh’s tone was dry. ‘Even you wouldn’t get that lucky. Louisa doesn’t do casual relationships.’
Mac looked at his brother, his hackles rising for some reason he couldn’t fathom. ‘You’ve tried?’
‘Do I look stupid?’ Josh threw him a wicked grin. ‘Of course I tried. Several times, actually. She wouldn’t have me.’
Mac hid his surprise. He knew only too well that most women found it hard to resist his younger brother. ‘In that case, she’s just gone up in my estimation.’
‘Thanks.’
Mac shrugged. ‘I still don’t understand why she would want to come to Cornwall in the middle of winter to look after two strangers.’
‘Speak for yourself. I’m not strange.’ Josh smothered a yawn. ‘And the answer to that will become clear once you get to know Louisa.’
Mac frowned. ‘Meaning?’
‘OK.’ Josh took a deep breath, his blue eyes serious for once. ‘Louisa doesn’t like being on her own at Christmas. On top of that, she’s a genuinely kind and generous person who can’t pass someone in trouble without trying to help. Watch her in action and you’ll see what I mean. She’s a fixer.’
‘So what exactly is she fixing with me?’
‘Your life,’ Josh said, slapping him hard between the shoulder blades, ‘and, goodness knows, it needs it.’
* * *
‘I know I’ve broken it, Nurse.’
Louisa stared down at the badly deformed wrist and then at the wrinkled, aged face of the lady looking at her so anxiously. ‘I think you’re right, Alice,’ she said gently. ‘I’ll get a doctor to look at it and then we’ll take some X-rays. Try not to worry. We’ll get it sorted out.’
‘I can’t believe this has happened.’ Alice’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I should never have gone out but I wanted to do some Christmas shopping. I don’t want to miss the last posting date. Vera is useless at that sort of thing, you see. The shopping is my responsibility.’
‘Who’s Vera?’ Louisa reached for an X-ray form and filled in all the necessary details.
‘My sister. She relies on me for everything,’ Alice fretted. ‘I’m the organised one, you see. She’s not very strong. I look after her.’
Louisa glanced at the date of birth on the notes and calculated that Alice was eighty-six. ‘You look after her?’ She kept her tone level, careful not to betray surprise or concern.
‘Ever since her husband died twenty years ago. We argue, of course.’ Alice gave a weak smile. ‘But generally we rub along very well together. I’m the active one.’
Louisa mentally filed that information. ‘Do you have any help in the home?’
‘We’ve never needed any,’ Alice said proudly, clutching her handbag with her good hand. ‘I shop and cook and Vera manages a bit of housework around the place. We’re a good team. And if we get stuck then someone in the village will always help. That’s the good thing about living in a small community. Everyone looks out for everyone.’
Louisa smiled. ‘Well, you might need some help with the shopping and cooking with that wrist out of action.’ She tucked her pen back in her pocket. ‘I’m going to get a doctor to take a look at your wrist so that we can get you sorted out.’
‘You need a doctor?’ Mac’s deep drawl came from right behind her and she felt her heart jump in her chest. She turned quickly, feeling colour touch her cheeks as she met his cool gaze. Whenever she laid eyes on him she found it difficult to breathe.
Which was ridiculous, because Mac Sullivan was not a man who encouraged the attentions of women, even though he clearly attracted them.
He was brooding, gorgeous and too remote for his own good, she decided. Why did he insist on keeping people at a distance? Resolving to peel away the layers until she revealed the man underneath, Louisa turned her attention back to her patient.
‘Poor Alice had a bit of a fall,’ she said huskily, giving the old lady with a reassuring smile. ‘I’ve filled out the X-ray forms but she hasn’t been seen yet.’
Mac pulled out a chair and sat down so that he was at eye level with his patient. ‘Pavements icy out there today, Mrs Ford?’
‘Yes, and you’re probably thinking that it was stupid of me to go out,’ Alice fretted, glancing helplessly at Louisa. ‘I should have stayed indoors but I needed some last-minute presents. The annoying thing is that I didn’t even get round to buying them.’
‘Don’t worry about the presents,’ Mac said calmly, examining the wrist with gentle fingers. ‘Are you tender here?’ He moved his fingers. ‘What about here?’
‘No, not particularly.’ Alice watched as he checked her pulses and finished his examination.
‘All right. That’s fine for now.’ He reached for the X-ray form that Louisa had already started filling in and signed it. ‘We’ll check your X-rays and then take it from there.’
‘I can’t stay in hospital,’ Alice said firmly. ‘I’ve got my sister to look after. She can’t manage without me.’
Mac frowned slightly and stood up. ‘Let’s see what the X-rays tell us and then we’ll worry about that.’ He looked at Louisa. ‘Give me a shout when the films are back.’
She nodded and watched as he strolled away, the bright lights of the A and E department glinting off his dark hair, his shoulders impossibly broad.
He wasn’t her type, she told herself firmly.
He might be shockingly handsome but he was remote and distant and not at all tactile.
When she finally fell in love, it was going to be with a real family man. Someone who wanted a noisy, crowded home, just as she did, with hordes of children and several dogs.
Not someone like Mac who was self-contained and kept himself apart from others.
Did he even like children? she wondered.
‘We’ve all worried about him since his wife died,’ Alice said wistfully. ‘Such a tragedy. We’ve been longing for him to find someone else but he only has time for his work. After she died we all mucked in, you know—made him food, tried to get him out and about, but he wasn’t having any of it. Spends time with his surfboard and that playboy brother of his with the wicked smile.’ She made a clucking sound with her tongue. ‘What a waste. He’s such a handsome boy.’
Louisa chuckled. ‘He’s the senior consultant and in his mid-thirties at a guess. I don’t think he’s a boy, Alice.’
As far as she was concerned, he was all man. Every delicious, intimidating inch of him.
‘When you’re ninety, he’s a boy,’ Alice said dryly. ‘Now, shall we take that trip to X-Ray?’
Louisa smiled. ‘Good idea. Let’s get a closer look at those bones of yours.’
* * *
‘Well, it’s not displaced so she can just go to the fracture clinic and have a back slab,’ Mac muttered, studying the X-rays carefully, his broad shoulders brushing against Louisa, who stood next to him.
This close he could smell her perfume and it played havoc with his senses. He wasn’t even sure if it was perfume. It could have been shampoo or just Louisa. But whatever it was, she smelt amazing.
He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, reminding himself that he wasn’t interested in women. Once or twice he’d tried to rekindle that part of himself after Melissa had died, but women always wanted more than he was willing or able to give. He wasn’t interested in a relationship. He was better off on his own.
‘I expect we ought to write to her GP. This sort of fracture is very common in women with osteoporosis. He ought to arrange a DEXA scan.’ Louisa frowned at the light box, oblivious to his scrutiny. This close he noticed that her nose turned up slightly and was dusted with freckles. She never seemed to stop smiling. She turned to look at him. ‘Don’t you think?’ Didn’t he think what?’
He searched his mind for the last thing she’d said. ‘DEXA scan. Good idea. I’ll write to the GP.’
‘I gather she lives down the road from you.’ Louisa handed him the notes and he took them, wondering what his response was supposed to be. ‘With her sister.’
‘That’s right.’
‘She told me she used to cook for you sometimes.’
Mac looked at her. ‘The two of them kept checking up on me after my wife died. Every time I came home one of them would be on my doorstep with a cake or a casserole.’
She smiled. ‘How kind.’
Mac inhaled sharply. ‘I prefer my privacy.’
‘That’s what I heard.’ There was a hint of reproach in her voice and he bit back an impatient remark.
‘Living in a village comes with disadvantages, Louisa,’ he said grimly as they walked back towards the treatment room. ‘One of those is a total lack of privacy. Not everyone wants to be surrounded by people discussing their business all the time, and I’m one of them. I’m better off on my own.’
‘Why?’ Her gaze was clear and direct. ‘What’s wrong with knowing your neighbours, Dr Sullivan, and allowing them to know you?’
He sighed. Somehow she managed to make him feel in the wrong. Which was ridiculous, because he gave enough of himself to his patients. He had a right to privacy. ‘In case it’s escaped your notice, I have a busy job. I give everything I have to the hospital. I don’t have time for anything else.’
She nodded slowly. ‘That’s what I thought. But what about you, Mac? Who gives to you?’
He frowned. ‘I have everything I need.’
‘Maybe you don’t know what you need.’ She took the X-rays from him. ‘This is going to cause Alice a problem. She looks after her elderly sister. Does everything. Shopping and cooking. She can’t do that with a broken wrist.’
Mac gave a brief nod, impressed that she’d discovered that so quickly. ‘Good point. We’ll give Social Services a ring. Get them some help.’
‘I’m not sure that they’re the sort to accept help easily. They’re obviously very independent.’
‘Well, if there’s no family to step in, what’s the alternative?’ Mac asked patiently, and Louisa chewed her lip thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know, but I’m working on it.’
‘Don’t tell me.’ His tone was dry. ‘Your interfering personality again?’
‘Probably.’
She looked so worried that Mac gave a sigh. ‘She’s a sweet lady, I grant you, but it isn’t our job to care for her until her bones heal.’
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s a cop-out.’
He inhaled deeply. She was doing it again. Making him feel guilty. ‘What do you expect me to do? Move in with all my patients?’ His tone was testy but he couldn’t help it. ‘Our job is to patch them up, Louisa. Someone else has to sort out the other stuff.’
‘But I don’t believe the ‘‘other stuff’’, as you call it, can be so neatly separated,’ Louisa said calmly, tucking the X-rays under her arm. ‘A patient is so much more than just a broken wrist.’
Mac’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re too idealistic. This is the real world, Louisa. Too many patients, too few staff. If we mend the broken bones then we’re doing well. We certainly don’t have time to sort out the rest of people’s lives.’
She gave him a smile designed to melt the heart of the most hardened cynic. ‘You’re working too hard, Dr Sullivan. You’ve developed tunnel vision. These patients of yours are human beings, not bones. And Alice is your neighbour.’
‘You can drop the ‘‘Dr Sullivan’’. If you’re going to abuse me, you may as well use my first name,’ he said dryly, and she chuckled.
‘All right, but I still think you’re working too hard. Someone needs to reintroduce you to the world.’
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Sarah Morgan
Christmas is coming, but for E.R. consultant Mac Sullivan it’s just another day. Since losing his wife two years ago, he’s thrown himself into work and has no interest in serious relationships.Enter nurse Louisa Young, who brings warmth, sparkle and Christmas into his E.R. department. The question is, can she bring it into his life as well? Louisa’s one Christmas wish is that maybe, just maybe, she can melt the ice that surrounds the gorgeous consultant’s heart…
Christmas is coming, but for ER consultant Mac Sullivan it’s just another day. Since losing his wife two years ago, he’s thrown himself into work and has no interest in serious relationships.
Enter Nurse Louisa Young, who brings warmth, sparkle and Christmas into his ER department. The question is: Can she bring it into his life, as well? Louisa’s one Christmas wish is that maybe, just maybe, she can melt the ice that surrounds the gorgeous consultant’s heart…
The Nurse’s Christmas Wish
Sarah Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Cover (#uea7aea29-f6f7-5023-b983-dc2aeeaa2872)
Back Cover Text (#u8bf2d3c1-9ffa-57fb-ae63-e256e4e34c0e)
Title Page (#u36bc2989-9f06-55f4-9b94-847dd19353c6)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_d0d6b9df-27fb-5fbe-ac61-1db3b4a2264b)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4f2f5d24-4ea4-58ef-bf47-381d2c4169f3)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_20b36489-133b-5869-bf1d-78335cd37cf1)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fedaa239-3cff-5aa1-ae71-47b0706789c3)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
‘YOU’RE going to love me. I’ve solved all your problems.’
‘I don’t have any problems.’ He had hundreds of problems. Mac Sullivan tucked the phone under his ear and carried on sifting through the pile of post he’d scooped from the mat just before the phone had rung. He’d only been at the hospital for two days and yet the door would barely open. Where the hell had it all come from? He turned his attention to the phone call. ‘And if this is the point where you tell me you’ve fixed me up with another blind date then I ought to warn you that I’m leaving the country. If you weren’t my brother I’d have knocked your teeth down your throat before now.’
‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Josh said easily, ‘but in this case it would be the wrong move. It’s not a blind date. But I have chosen you a great Christmas present.’
Mac binned the post without opening it and strolled through to the kitchen, the phone still tucked under his ear. He winced at the mess. The remains of a takeaway lay dried up and congealing in foil containers and unwashed dishes were stacked on every available surface.
‘I don’t need a Christmas present, I need a housekeeper,’ he muttered, glancing towards the overflowing bin with something close to desperation. ‘Or a brother who clears up after himself. Why doesn’t someone invent a bin that empties itself?’
‘Last time I looked, ours was emptying itself,’ Josh said mildly, ‘mostly over the kitchen floor. And housekeepers always leave because they fall in love with you. Personally I find you a moody, sarcastic bastard but for some inexplicable reason women seem to find that irresistible. You need to smile more and cut out the brooding, Heathcliffe look and maybe they could concentrate on looking after the house.’
Choosing to ignore his brother’s remarks, Mac flicked on the kettle and hunted in vain for a clean mug. ‘I’m putting in another advert.’
‘It’s Christmas in less than two weeks,’ Josh reminded him. ‘Everyone is shopping and cooking and decorating the house with lights. They don’t want to come and clear up our mess. No, in the short term we’re in trouble. But in the long term, you need to get married again. That would solve everything.’
Married?
Mac closed his eyes and the breath hissed through his teeth. ‘I don’t think so.
He was better off alone.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. ‘You can’t lock yourself away for ever,’ Josh said softly. ‘It’s time to move on.’
‘I have moved on.’
‘So why are you living in that massive house on your own?’
Because he liked being on his own.
Mac opened his eyes and glanced at the mess. ‘Last time I looked, you were living in it with me. And I wish you’d learn to clear up after yourself. This place is a pit.’
‘You’ll miss me when my boathouse is finished,’ Josh said cheerfully, and Mac gave a ghost of a smile as he took a last glance around the kitchen.
‘Will I?’ He strode out of the kitchen and closed the door firmly behind him. The mess depressed him and he was too tired to tackle it. ‘How are things there? Did you transfer the aorta guy to Theatre?’
‘Don’t change the subject. We were talking about you getting married again.’
‘You were talking about that, not me,’ Mac said irritably. Marriage definitely wasn’t on his agenda. ‘Did you get him to Theatre before it ruptured?’
Josh sighed. ‘Yes, but you need to stop thinking about work. You need to ease off and develop different areas of your life. Achieve some balance.’
Mac frowned into the phone. ‘Balance? Have you been reading women’s magazines? And were you working in the A and E department with me last night or not? Did you happen to notice any drunk, abusive patients, brainless drivers and idiots who can’t walk along an icy pavement without breaking a limb? Because they were all out in force. I’m knackered and I need my bed. I don’t have time for balance and I don’t have time for your psychobabble.’
‘I’m not giving you psychobabble, I’m telling you where you’re going wrong with your life.’
‘That’s why you called?’ Mac eyed the mud on the hall floor and exhaled slowly. He was never in the house. How did it get so dirty? ‘To tell me where I’m going wrong with my life? Thanks.’
‘Actually, I called to arrange delivery of your Christmas present. I’ve gone to a lot of effort. It’s important that you’re in.’
Mac checked his reflection in the hall mirror and grimaced. He looked like a bandit. He needed a shave and a sleep, although possibly not in that order. ‘We never bother with Christmas presents.’
It was just one more thing to think about.
‘Well, this year, we’re bothering. Or, at least, I am.’
Mac sighed and made a mental note to buy something useless for his brother. ‘All right, if you want to play Santa, we’ll play Santa. But I hope my stocking is full of bottles.’
‘Alcohol isn’t the answer.’
‘Surely that depends on the question.’
Josh chuckled. ‘You’re supposed to be a respectable doctor,’ he reminded him sternly, his voice suddenly muffled as he broke off to issue some instructions to someone who was passing,
Mac eyed his reflection. ‘I am a respectable doctor.’
Even if he didn’t look like one.
‘Well, just make sure you’re in to answer the door because it can’t be left on the doorstep.’ There was a yawn in his brother’s voice. ‘I’ll still be stuck here up to my armpits in broken bones and hacking coughs. I should have been a GP.’
‘Then you would have seen a hundred patients a day with nothing wrong with them. Are you serious about this?’ Mac shook his head in exasperation as he contemplated the possibilities. ‘You’ve seriously bought me a Christmas present?’
‘Yeah.’ His brother’s voice was a mocking drawl. ‘It’s the festive season, just in case you hadn’t noticed. And knowing you, I’m sure you hadn’t. To you, Christmas is just another day of work.’
‘Fortunately for my patients.’ Matt strolled through to his enormous living room. His enormous, empty living room. It was devoid of all evidence of Christmas. The long French windows faced the sea, providing him with a perfect view of wild surf, thrashed into a furious frenzy by winter winds and bitter cold. Most people preferred to sample the delights of the Cornish coast in the summer but he’d always preferred it in the winter. In the summer it belonged to the tourists, the hordes of visitors who arrived with buckets and spades and giggling children, covering the beach outside his back door. And then the weather cooled and they departed, leaving him to enjoy the best part of the year with other committed locals. To some it would have seemed stark and lonely but he loved the wildness. And he had no intention of adding tinsel just because it happened to be two weeks before Christmas. It was just something else to clear up.
‘In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t exactly my favourite time of year.’ He stared out at the ocean, realising that it had been weeks since he’d even found time to windsurf. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he was working too hard.
‘I know this isn’t your best time of year, Mac.’ His brother’s voice softened slightly. ‘But it’s been two years since Melissa died and Santa’s missed you. Get back on the horse, bro. It’s time.’
Time for what?
Mac’s fingers tightened on the phone. ‘I appreciate the thought.’ His voice was rough. ‘But I like my life the way it is.’
Busy.
‘All you do is work, but my present is going to change all that. I’ve got to go.’ Josh suddenly sounded harassed and Mac heard the sound of an ambulance siren and voices in the background. ‘What’s the matter with our department? The tourists have gone home and we’re still inundated in A and E. We need to do some accident prevention work around here. Stop people driving too fast on narrow Cornish roads when it’s icy.’
‘It keeps us busy.’ And he liked to be busy. Work was his life. Work was his saviour. ‘What’s happening about the nursing situation?’
‘All sorted. She starts on Monday.’
Mac frowned. ‘Who starts?’
‘The new A and E nurse. She’s a whiz. You’ll love her. And now I’ve got to go. Lives to save. Nurses to impress. Talk to you later. Merry Christmas.’ The phone went dead and Mac gave a sigh and replaced the handset.
He could just imagine what his brother was facing. They were so understaffed at the moment that the situation was becoming almost dangerous. As the consultant in charge of the department, he’d put his case to the hospital authorities on several occasions, but nothing had been done and the arguments were always the same. No more budget. And no staff willing to bury themselves in the depths of Cornwall, particularly in the winter.
Which meant that Christmas was going to be busy.
Exactly the way he liked it.
CHAPTER ONE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
IT WAS her perfect house.
And there was no one home.
Louisa tried the doorbell again and cuddled her long wool coat around her to keep out the freezing wind. It had started snowing again and soft flakes settled on the ground and clung to her tumbling dark hair. She’d only stepped out of her car a few minutes before and already her fingers were freezing and she couldn’t feel her toes.
If she was going to spend Christmas here, she needed more clothes.
She gave a shiver and pressed the bell again, this time keeping her finger on it for much longer. Someone had to be there. Josh had assured her that his brother would be at home. That he was expecting her.
Giving up on the bell, she took a step backwards and looked at the huge white house. It was gorgeous. The sort of house she’d dreamed about as a child. The sort of house that should have been full of kids and dogs and laughter. She stared, wistfully. On the ground floor, huge glass windows faced out to sea across a wide deck, piled with drifted snow. A large, rambling garden stretched all the way down to the sand dunes, wild and neglected.
It was a house with a story to tell. And today there were no signs of life.
Remembering everything that Josh had told her about his brother and why he hated Christmas, Louisa stared anxiously at the house.
Just how much did Mac Sullivan hate Christmas?
Did he hate it enough to—to...?
She gazed up at the huge windows and bit her lip. Christmas was a bad time of year for lots of people, even without tragedy in their lives. What if he was lying in there, an empty bottle of tablets by the side of his bed? Maybe he’d left a note—
No.
She shook herself and wished her imagination wasn’t quite so lively. He was probably just watching TV or something. He probably couldn’t hear the doorbell.
Wishing she’d worn a thermal vest under her jumper, Louisa walked up to the window and peered inside, hoping to see signs of life.
She’d been told to arrive at lunchtime and this was lunchtime.
The living room was elegantly furnished with large white sofas set on a rich wooden floor, but the room had a formal feel that suggested that no one actually sat on the sofas. The cushions were plumped and smooth, like something prepared for a photographic shoot for an upmarket magazine.
It didn’t look lived in.
She frowned thoughtfully. A house like this was meant to be a home and this didn’t look like any home she’d ever imagined. Especially not at Christmas. A room like that should be filled with holly and presents and a massive tree.
Did Mac Sullivan have no one to buy presents for?
Had he shut everyone out since his wife had died?
Blowing on her fingers to warm them, Louisa gazed up at the upstairs windows but they were all firmly shut.
Worry started to gnaw at her brain again and she gave a shiver and mentally listed the options. She could stand still and wait for someone to turn up, but that could take for ever and would be of no help at all if he was really in trouble. Or she could give up on the whole idea and drive back to London, but that would mean being unemployed. And being on her own at Christmas. Not to mention letting Josh down when she’d promised she’d step in and help.
And, anyway, she couldn’t possibly leave before she knew that Mac was all right.
Which meant finding another way into the house so that she could check that he wasn’t lying in a heap somewhere.
Deciding that living in rural Cornwall meant being resourceful, she picked her way through the snow to the back of the house and immediately saw the open window.
Her eyes narrowed as she measured the space. Just large enough for her to wriggle through.
It had been a while since she’d used a window to gain access to a building but in this case it seemed like the only option. And she was expected so it could hardly be classed as breaking and entering, could it?
* * *
Mac heard the muffled thud the moment he switched off the shower. Someone was in the house.
He was being burgled.
Questioning the sense of tackling a burglar half-naked, he grabbed a towel from the heated rail and looped it round his hips before padding barefoot onto the landing to investigate.
There was another clatter and he winced. Whoever it was didn’t have a great future as a burglar.
Probably someone who knew he was a doctor and thought he might keep drugs on the premises. Some crazed addict looking for a fix?
His dark hair was wet from the shower and he raked it out of his eyes with an impatient hand before reaching for a hammer that he’d used a few days before to put up a shelf.
His dark eyes gleamed with anticipation and he walked softly downstairs, his feet leaving damp marks on the carpet. As he reached the bottom, he wondered whether it was better to take the man by surprise or make a din and warn him of his presence.
In the end he went for the surprise option. Growing up with a brother, he’d never been afraid of the physical. He was six feet two and he had a black belt in judo. He was pretty confident that he could take most people, even dressed only in a towel.
The noise came from the visitors’ toilet and Mac’s mouth tightened as he recalled the number of occasions he’d asked Nicola, the last and most determined of his housekeepers, to sort out a lock for that window. It hadn’t closed for months but it was one of the many things that she hadn’t managed to fix before she’d walked out on him. Once he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a relationship it had appeared that she was no longer interested in working for him.
And his house was falling apart. He spent too long at the hospital to do more than the most basic maintenance and this house needed far more than basic.
And now he was paying the price.
Shifting his weight to prepare for a fight, Mac pushed open the door to the toilet and pounced, his weight taking the other person down hard. ‘Don’t move!’
There was a shocked gasp from beneath him. ‘How can I possibly move? You weigh a ton! And you’re soaking wet!’
Registering a distinctly feminine voice, Mac gave a grunt and shifted his weight slightly, his hands grasping hers firmly and holding them above her head. He didn’t intend to drop his guard just because his intruder was a woman.
He stared down into the widest, brownest eyes he’d ever seen and felt something stir inside him. She was soft and yielding under him and she smelt like a dream. Clouds of dark hair dusted with snow framed a perfect heart-shaped face and her soft cheeks were pink from the cold. And she was laughing.
‘OK, muscle man—are you going to lie on top of me all day?’ She sounded slightly breathless as she gazed up at him, her smile almost as wide as her face, ‘because I ought to warn you that you’re making it jolly hard for me to breathe.’
He rolled away from her, thinking that she looked nothing like a burglar.
She looked like something straight out of a bad boy’s dream.
Reminding himself that he wasn’t interested in becoming involved with a woman, especially one who had just wriggled through his toilet window, he frowned down at her.
‘What the hell are you doing, climbing through my window? You were looking for a doctor?’
‘Well, in a manner of speaking, I was looking for a doctor, yes.’ She struggled to sit upright, her long legs going in different directions like a foal who still hadn’t quite got the hang of standing. ‘But I’m not a patient. Or at least I wasn’t until you landed on top of me. Now I’m not so sure. I think there’s a distinct possibility that I’m injured. Possibly seriously. Were you planning to use that hammer on me?’
‘Only if you proved to be especially violent,’ Mac said dryly, placing the hammer on the window-seat and holding out a hand to help her up. Her skirt had ridden up almost to her bottom and he found his attention snagged by her legs. She had fabulous legs. ‘Do you always climb through windows when you’re looking for a doctor?’
‘Never before. But I was worried that you might be lying unconscious at the top of the stairs, unable to call for help. I thought you might need rescuing.’ She reached out and took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, surprised to find that she wasn’t as tall as he’d thought. Obviously most of her was leg.
He dragged his eyes away. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’
‘Because I rang the doorbell and no one answered.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And that meant I was lying unconscious? You didn’t think I might be out buying a loaf of bread?’
‘I have a vivid imagination,’ she confided happily, her wide smile lighting up her whole face. Her eyes were the colour of rich coffee and a few freckles dusted her nose. ‘There didn’t appear to be a shop open in the village, so you couldn’t have been buying bread.’
‘So you thought you’d break in?’ He stared at her with incredulity. ‘Is that a frequent habit of yours?’
‘Only when essential. It’s part of my naturally interfering personality.’ She brushed herself down and shook the snow out of her hair. ‘I’m so relieved you’re all right. So, if you weren’t lying unconscious, why didn’t you answer the door?’
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘Because I was in the shower.’
‘At lunchtime?’
Mac sighed, wondering why he was explaining himself to this woman. ‘I was up all night in the unit. Motorbike accident. The roads are lethal at the moment. When I came in I spent ten minutes arguing with my brother and then got stuck into some paperwork before deciding to take a shower. Are there any more details of my life that you feel you need to know?’
She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘Probably, but they can wait until later. The most pressing thing is to dry myself off and get settled in. Where do I put my things?’
Deciding that he must be more tired than he’d thought, Mac stared at her blankly. ‘Put your things? What do you mean, put your things?’
She waved a hand towards the window. ‘I left my bags in the car but the boot leaks terribly so I really ought to bring them in before they get damp. It’s snowing again. But, of course, you know that because it’s all over me.’ As if to prove her point, she shook herself like a kitten and more snow drifted onto the floor. ‘Let’s look on the bright side. At least I didn’t fall head first down your toilet. That would have been an unhappy experience.’
Mac studied her in silence, an uneasy suspicion forming in his mind. ‘You haven’t told me what exactly you’re doing here...’
‘No, I haven’t, have I?’ She smiled warmly and held out a hand. ‘Your brother said I could come. I needed somewhere to stay and he told me you needed help. So here I am. Apparently I’m your Christmas present. Pleased to meet you, Dr Sullivan.’
* * *
Her new boss had a fantastic body and at the moment virtually every delicious inch of him was on display.
Louisa stood in the corner of the small room, trying not to focus on that broad chest or the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. If she’d needed the perfect illustration of the male anatomy then it was standing in front of her. His body was hard and tough with no soft edges. The body of a man used to strenuous physical activity.
And as for the rest of him…
With a huge effort of will she stared into his cold, handsome face and forced herself to breathe normally.
Josh had told her that the house was huge. He’d told her that the Cornish seaside fishing village was so small that you couldn’t sneeze without the entire population asking you about your cold the next morning.
What he’d failed to mention was the fact that his brother was drop-dead gorgeous.
And angry.
His eyes glittered dangerously and there was no trace of amusement in his hard features.
‘Is this some sort of joke?’ His voice was suddenly icy cold and he was looking at her with all the enthusiasm of a pathologist looking at a deadly virus. ‘How can you be my Christmas present?’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Because your brother arranged it. I’m Louisa.’
He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like, ‘I’m going to kill him.’
Louisa stood for a moment, waiting patiently, and finally he opened his eyes and his gaze fixed on hers.
‘All right, this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to rescue your things from your car before they’re soaked, we’re going to get you dried off and then we’re going to sit down and talk about this. Because whatever you and my little brother have cooked up between you, it isn’t going to work for me. Once you’ve had a hot drink and dried off, I’m sending you on your way.’
Louisa looked at him. ‘Josh didn’t tell you I was coming?’
He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure exasperation. ‘No. Well, yes, sort of. He told me he’d arranged my Christmas present. He just omitted to tell me what it was.’
Louisa covered her mouth with her hand and gurgled with laughter. ‘That’s so like Josh. He probably thought that if he told you in advance, you’d refuse to let me through the door.’
His black eyes were flint hard and as cold as the Arctic. ‘He would have been right.’
Oops.
She smiled placidly, refusing to let him intimidate her. ‘So it’s just as well I came through the window, then.’ She’d never met a man with more defences but she wasn’t put off by his lack of warmth. Josh had warned her that his older brother would try and keep her at a distance and she had no intention of being sent away until she’d helped. And she knew she could. ‘OK.’ She glanced down at herself with a rueful smile. ‘I’m dripping all over your floor. If you don’t want me to catch a cold, you’d better show me where I can get dried off and changed.’
He studied her for a moment and then let out a sigh of undisguised exasperation. ‘Upstairs, first on the right. There’s a guest bedroom and bathroom. Use it and then you can be on your way. In the meantime, I’ll get your things. Keys?’
He held out a hand and she looked at him blankly. ‘Oh...’ She smiled in sudden comprehension. ‘I never lock my car. It’s such a wreck no one in their right mind would ever want to steal it.’
She followed him into the hallway and stopped dead in the large hallway, her eyes fixed on the sweeping staircase. ‘A fairy-tale staircase. I’ve never actually seen one in real life, only in films. That’s amazing,’ she said huskily, her gaze wistful as she gazed upwards. ‘Just like the one in Gone with the Wind. You could sweep a woman off her feet and carry her up those stairs—’
‘Or she could walk,’ he said tightly, piercing her dream with a sardonic lift of a dark eyebrow. ‘I thought you were catching cold?’
Obviously not a romantic.
‘I am.’ She walked slowly up the stairs, trailing her hand lovingly up the oak banister. ‘The wood is beautiful.’
‘I restored it,’ Mac said irritably, and she peeped at him quizzically.
‘You know, you should probably get some sleep.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because you look tired. You’re also very, very crabby and that’s always a sign of tiredness.’
His dark eyes burned into hers. ‘It’s also a sign that my brother has introduced a strange woman to my house when I don’t need one.’
‘Men are always hopeless at knowing what they need,’ Louisa said sagely, ‘but fortunately for them, women are here to help them work it out. Do you think you could rescue my bag from the boot before everything is soaked through?’
He was staring at her with an expression of stunned disbelief on his handsome face. ‘Your bag...’ His tone was almost faint. ‘I’ll get it.’ He seemed to shake himself. ‘And once you’ve dried off, you’re leaving. I’m not blaming you and it isn’t personal. I’m fully aware that none of this is your fault and I intend to take it up with my brother. Bedroom is second on the right.’
Ignoring the frost in his tone and the ice in his eyes, Louisa followed his instructions and pushed open the door. The place had been decorated like a traditional beach house. Floor-to-ceiling windows, scrubbed floorboards and a huge bed covered in white bedding and creamy throws. There were touches of blue, interesting pieces of driftwood and piles of shells stacked in pretty bowls. Even in the depths of winter the room seemed to feel summery and light. And she loved it. She gazed out of the window as Mac strode in with her bags.
‘You were right. They’re soaking wet. Put them near the radiator and they should dry off.’ He dumped them on the floor and frowned at her. ‘Is something wrong?’
Her eyes were still on the sea. ‘Oh, no, nothing’s wrong—’ She broke off and cleared her throat. ‘Everything is right. I just love it here.’
Her dream.
A house by the sea. A village where everyone knew each other. Surely in a place like this a person could belong.
‘Well, don’t get too settled. You won’t be staying.’ His frown deepened and there was a moment’s silence, as if he regretted his rudeness. ‘Most people hate the beach in the winter,’ he said gruffly. ‘They find it wild and lonely.’
Louisa thought of her early childhood spent in a cramped high-rise flat in the middle of a soulless city until Social Services had taken her away. ‘I suppose loneliness means different things to different people.’ She pulled herself together and turned to face him, a bright smile on her face. ‘I’ll take a shower and change, if that’s all right with you, and then we can meet downstairs so that you can tell me again that this is all a mistake and I can’t possibly stay.’
He paused for a moment, his dark eyes wary, and then he gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be difficult to shift?’
Without waiting for an answer, he left the room and Louisa stared after him thoughtfully. ‘Oh, I’m not going to be difficult to shift, Dr Mac Sullivan,’ she muttered thoughtfully. ‘I’m going to be impossible.’
He needed her.
She’d always been good at reading people. It was her special gift. And all her senses warned her that Mac Sullivan was a troubled man. She could feel the tension in him. Feel the way that he pushed people away. Shut himself off.
Josh was right about one thing, she mused as she unzipped her bag and pulled out a warm jumper. His brother was going to do everything in his power to get her to leave.
She cuddled the jumper and for a moment her eyes swung back to the sea. The winter wind whipped the waves into a foaming mass and the sky was grey and laden with the threat of more snow.
It was cruel and cold and unwelcoming.
So why did she feel she was finally home?
CHAPTER TWO (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
DOWNSTAIRS, Mac put the kettle on the Aga and called his brother. ‘I owe you a black eye. Your Christmas present just arrived.’
His brother chuckled. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous? I’ve excelled myself, haven’t I?’
Mac felt the irritation rise. ‘When I need a pimp,’ he said tightly, ‘I’ll ask for one.’
‘Hey!’ Josh’s voice was suddenly sharp. ‘Don’t speak that way about Louisa. Believe it or not, this time I’m not fixing you up. This isn’t about sex.’
Mac rolled his eyes as he waited for the water to heat. ‘With you, everything is about sex and you’ve been trying to fix me up since the day Melissa died. And frankly I just don’t need it. I don’t need another woman in my life.’
He was no good at relationships.
He was better off on his own.
An image of Louisa with snow scattered through clouds of curling dark hair filled his brain and he pushed it away. It was all part of his brother’s plan and he wasn’t falling for it. He was perfectly satisfied with his life.
‘This isn’t just about you.’ Josh sighed. ‘Mac, we’re drowning under work. We don’t have time to turn around. We need someone to help in the house and we need another nurse in the department. Louisa fits both slots. She’ll make all our lives easier. If you frighten her off, I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.’
‘She’s the nurse you were talking about?’ Momentarily preoccupied, Mac suddenly felt steam sear his wrist and stepped back with a soft curse. Functioning on automatic, he lifted the kettle off the heat and ran his arm under the cold tap, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, Josh, really I do.’ He increased the flow and frowned at the red streak appearing on his wrist. ‘But I don’t need my brother arranging my love life.’
‘No, what you need is to stop shutting people out,’ Josh said shortly, ‘and that’s why I’ve bought you Louisa.’
‘You’ve bought me Louisa?’
‘I’m paying her salary for a month. After that it’s up to you. But Louisa is the nicest person I know. A real giver. And on top of that she’s a brilliant A and E nurse. She’s going to be the answer to our prayers, bro, so stop complaining. It’s just for Christmas.’
‘If she’s so wonderful, why aren’t you sleeping with her?’
‘Truthfully?’ Josh laughed. ‘Because she wouldn’t have me. She’s too wise. But she’s one of my favourite people. Let her stick around and you’ll see why.’
Mac turned off the cold tap. ‘I have no intention of letting her stick around. If she wants to work in A and E, that’s great, heaven knows, we need the staff, but she’s not living here with us.’
He needed his space. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being closeted with someone over the Christmas period. When he wasn’t working he just wanted to be left on his own.
He wanted peace and quiet and his own company.
He didn’t want tinsel and forced jollity.
‘Fine.’ Josh’s tone was cool. ‘Then she’ll be homeless but I dare say she can sleep in a hedge. It won’t be the first time. I’ve got to go. Patients calling.’
Mac replaced the receiver and cursed under his breath. He was well aware that Josh was the reason he’d got his life back together after Melissa had died.
But, dammit, that didn’t give him the right to interfere with every aspect of his life. He was doing OK, wasn’t he? He didn’t need any help. And he certainly didn’t need to be given a woman as a Christmas present. Even if she was stunning, had impossibly long legs and smelt as good as a summer’s day.
He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to find her standing in the doorway, watching him, those coffee-brown eyes fixed on his face in silent question.
The shower had turned her cheeks pink and her dark hair hung down over her shoulders in a damp, curling mass.
She was astonishingly pretty and against his will his eyes slid to her soft mouth, noting that her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper lip. In fact, he noticed a lot of things he would rather not have noticed.
Mac ran a hand over the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. ‘I’ve been up half the night and I’m knackered. I don’t need this right now...’
Her gaze slid over the kitchen, resting on the piles of unwashed plates, the mountains of cold, half-eaten food and the empty bottles. ‘Looks to me as though this is exactly what you need,’ she said softly, a sympathetic look in her eyes as she looked back at him. ‘You know, when life gets tough, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. People should help each other. Particularly at Christmas.’
He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t need help.’
She waved a hand and glanced around her pointedly. ‘Well, you need something, Dr Sullivan. Starting with a dressing for that burn. Do you have a first-aid kit?’
He looked down at the vicious red mark on his arm. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s blistered.’ She walked across to him and took his arm, moving it slightly so that she could take a better look. ‘And if you don’t dress it, the chances are it will get infected and then it will certainly be something. First-aid kit?’
He inhaled sharply and jerked his head. ‘In that cupboard.’
Maybe if he let her dress his wound, she’d be satisfied and leave.
His eyes tracked her as she walked across the room, noting the swing of her hips and the grace of her movements. Then she reached up into the cupboard and he caught a glimpse of a perfect, rounded bottom hugged by snug jeans. Something long dormant sprang to life inside him.
‘OK.’ She delved in the cupboard and withdrew the right box. ‘Let’s hope there’s something decent in here. Most of the doctors I know aren’t great at putting together first-aid kits.’
She flipped it open, pulled out a few items and then walked towards him. ‘Sit down.’
He tensed. ‘I feel fine. I don’t need to sit down.’
She put the first-aid kit on the table. ‘But you’re at least six-two and I’m just normal-sized,’ she said patiently. ‘If you stand up, it makes it harder for me. Sit.’
He sat, telling himself that he could at least assess her dressing technique.
She worked quickly, her fingers deft and gentle as she dealt with the burn and, for some inexplicable reason, her obvious skill irritated him.
He’d wanted her to be clumsy and inept so that he had an excuse to yell at her. But her touch was skilled and smooth, her movements economical and practised.
Cursing his brother, he sucked in a breath and pulled himself together. ‘Look, I’m going to be blunt and if that offends you then I apologise.’ He wondered which bit of her smelt so good. Was it her hair or her perfume? ‘The department needs a nurse to cover the Christmas period but that’s all we need. I don’t know what my brother has said to you but I don’t need anything more personal.’
Soft brown eyes lifted to his. ‘Is that what you think this is? A set-up?’ Her eyes danced with laughter as she covered the dressing with a bandage and secured it firmly. ‘You think I have to pay for sex, Dr Sullivan? Do I look that desperate?’
Momentarily captivated by the thickness of her dark lashes, Mac felt a kick of pure lust in his groin. This girl undoubtedly had men dropping to their knees. He might have done so himself at one time had he not decided that it was all too complicated. Women wanted something that he wasn’t capable of giving.
‘I’m just saying I don’t need a blind date,’ he said tightly, and she laughed.
‘I know you don’t. But you need me. Look at the state of your kitchen.’
His gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I work twenty-two hours a day at the hospital.’
Her eyes softened with sympathy. ‘I know, and it isn’t good for you, but all that’s going to change now I’m here. A lot of things are going to change, starting with the state of your house,’ she said soothingly, closing the first-aid box and returning it to the cupboard. ‘I can do all that, Dr Sullivan. When I’m not working in A and E I can make your life more comfortable. You’ve got me for a month. Make the most of me.’
‘Are you seriously telling me you’re prepared to clear up my kitchen?’ Mac stood up and swayed. Damn. He was more tired than he’d thought. ‘Whatever happened to equal rights? I didn’t think women did things like that any more.’
She washed her hands and dried them. ‘Well, I just happen to like creating a home. It’s my hobby. And if I don’t clean up your kitchen, we’ll all die of something horrible so it’s in my own interests. Don’t worry. You’ll be pulling your weight. You can carve the turkey, I’m hopeless with knives.’ She frowned. ‘You look shattered. When did you last sleep?’
Sleep? Mac closed his eyes and tried to remember. He gave up. ‘Too long ago.’
‘Then go,’ she said calmly, giving him a little push. ‘Forget everything and just sleep. We’ll sort everything out when you wake up.’
Her smoky, gentle voice oozed over him, soothing his jarred emotions. He stared at her blankly, fatigue paralysing his normally sharp brain. ‘You expect me to go to sleep and leave you here?’
‘Dr Sullivan.’ Her eyes twinkled like lights on a Christmas tree. ‘I’ve never forced myself on a man yet and I don’t intend to start now. Neither do I intend to steal the silver. Go to bed. And don’t bother to lock your door. You’re perfectly safe.’
He stared down into those chocolate brown eyes and felt something shift inside him.
And he knew he wasn’t safe at all.
* * *
Louisa started in the kitchen.
Humming to herself, she filled three large bin bags with the rubbish and took them outside and then ran the dishwasher twice while she threw out piles of papers and scrubbed at the stubborn rings on the kitchen table.
Two hours later the surfaces and the floor were gleaming and the crockery was clean and neatly stacked away in the cupboards. Having checked the contents of the fridge and found them decidedly lacking, she was glad she’d had the foresight to stop at the supermarket on the way and stock up on emergency provisions.
She retrieved the bags from her little car and emptied them into the cupboards. Then she set about making supper.
Remembering the remains of the take-away on the kitchen table, she decided that her impromptu shopping trip had been inspired. She chopped, fried and stirred, filling the kitchen with delicious smells. Satisfied that the food would look after itself for a while, she took a last glance around the now gleaming kitchen, threw out some ancient newspapers and takeaway menus and gave a nod.
‘Much better. Now for the rest of the house.’ She strolled out of the kitchen with the intention of being thoroughly nosy. For a man living on his own, Mac Sullivan had a big house.
She opened the door to the living room and blinked. It looked as though the room had never been used. ‘Like something out of a magazine,’ she observed to herself, closing the door again and walking back into the hall. Two more huge reception rooms, an elegant conservatory with views of the sea and the downstairs cloakroom that had been her route into the house.
Unlike the kitchen, the rest of the house was tidy.
Unlived in.
She almost preferred the kitchen, she mused. At least it showed signs of life. The house felt cold and uninhabited. As if someone had given up hope.
Was that what had happened? she wondered.
Had Mac Sullivan given up hope when his wife had died?
She didn’t know much about it, of course. Only the little that Josh had told her, that his older brother had lost his wife in a car accident two years earlier. And that he’d done nothing but work ever since.
Noticing the footprints on the hall floor, Louisa gave a sigh and wandered back into the kitchen to retrieve the mop.
Mac Sullivan might be a dedicated doctor but he definitely needed some help with the rest of his life.
* * *
Mac slept without moving for three hours and then woke to find that it was already dark.
He lay for a moment, listening to the winter wind howling around the house and trying to work out what was different, and then he remembered Louisa.
Cursing his interfering brother, he grabbed some clothes and made his way downstairs.
There was no way she was staying. He’d find her somewhere in the village. And he’d find her somewhere tonight. Before she had the chance to mess with his life.
Bracing himself for an unpleasant scene, he pushed open the kitchen door and stopped dead.
His brother Josh was convulsed with laughter, his feet up on the kitchen table—the scrubbed, tidy kitchen table—while Louisa stood in front of the Aga, talking non-stop and stirring something that smelt delicious. Her dark hair spilled down her back and her cheeks were flushed from the heat.
She looked extremely happy and totally at home.
‘Hi.’ She broke off in mid-sentence and threw a smile at him, still stirring. ‘You slept well. Supper will be ready in five minutes if you’re interested. If you’re not then it will keep until later. I wasn’t sure when you’d be hungry.’
Mac opened his mouth to tell her that she had to leave and then the smell hit him again. He wavered, caught in a battle between his stomach and his brain. His stomach won. He’d eat and then he’d tackle the subject.
‘Fine.’ He sprawled in the nearest chair, noticing that the floor was gleaming and the bin was empty. In fact, if it hadn’t been in his house, he wouldn’t have known it was his kitchen. ‘It looks great in here,’ he said stiffly. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re very welcome.’ She removed the pan from the heat and reached for a wooden board. Her hands moved quickly, chopping, slicing and mixing, and then bowls started appearing on the table.
Mac watched with something close to fascination. He’d never actually watched a woman cook before. Melissa had been a career-woman so on the rare occasions that they’d been in at the same time to eat, they’d lived on fast food and take-aways. And his mother had always had help in the house.
Watching Louisa was like watching an artist at work.
Josh sniffed and gave a moan of pleasure as she placed a bowl of fluffy rice in front of him. ‘I’m not the marrying type, but I swear to heaven I’d marry you if you’d have me, Louisa.’
‘You’re safe, Josh,’ Louisa said soothingly, turning away to lift a casserole out of the Aga. ‘I wouldn’t have you in any shape or form. Given the contents of the take-away cartons, I gather you both like Indian food so I’ve made you curry, but hopefully mine is a tastier and healthier option.’
Mac glanced at the array of dishes and felt his taste buds spurt. ‘You made curry?’
He was starving.
‘That’s right.’ She went back to the oven and removed several more dishes. ‘That’s a lamb rogan josh and a chicken pasanda—very creamy with almonds. Rice, naan bread, spinach with garlic and green beans. Enjoy.’
Deciding that difficult conversation could definitely wait, Mac helped himself, piling his plate with food and then turning his attention to his brother. ‘So—what happened today?’
Without lifting his eyes from his plate, Josh reached for his beer. ‘Usual story. Too many patients. Too few staff. Any chutney, Lu?’
Louisa pushed the dish towards him. ‘It’s fresh chutney. Tomatoes, red onion, coriander—try it. It’s better for you than that sugary stuff you had hanging around in the fridge which, by the way, expired a year ago so I threw it out.’
Josh gave a sheepish smile. ‘Oops.’
‘The forecast is bad. It’s going to be a difficult Christmas,’ Mac said, forking lamb curry into his mouth. For a moment he sat still, savouring the flavour. A fabulous mix of spices exploded onto his palate and he just managed to stop himself groaning with pleasure. ‘This is amazing.’
‘Glad you like it.’ Louisa helped herself to some chicken. ‘Why are you so busy at work? Surely there aren’t many tourists at this time of year?’
‘Difficult to attract staff to deepest Cornwall,’ Mac said, chewing slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Which makes me wonder what you’re doing here.’
Why would she agree to come and live with strangers at Christmas?
Josh choked on his beer. ‘For crying out loud, Mac, finish the food before you insult the woman. If she deprives us of seconds, I’ll kill you.’
Mac didn’t smile, his eyes still on her face, searching for clues. What exactly was she expecting from him?
She held his gaze. ‘I’m making your life easier, Dr Sullivan. That’s what I’m doing here.’
He glanced round his kitchen. ‘Housekeepers don’t usually work out.’
‘Because they keep hearing wedding bells.’ Louisa’s tone was placid and her eyes twinkled with humour. ‘Josh told me. Don’t worry, Mac, you’re very good-looking but you’re not my type.’
‘So what’s your type?’ The question left his lips before he could stop himself, but she simply laughed.
‘I haven’t met him yet, but when I do, I’ll let you know and I’ll invite you to the wedding. More curry?’
Mac sat unresisting as she spooned the rich sauce onto his plate. ‘Are all your meals as good as this one?’
‘Well, if you’ll let me stay, you’ll find out,’ she said cheerfully, a dimple appearing in her cheek. ‘If you throw me out, you’ll never know.’
It occurred to Mac that she smiled more than any woman he’d ever met.
But he was still going to ask her to leave. As soon as he’d finished eating.
‘So you’re an A and E nurse?’
‘That’s right.’ She poured herself a glass of water. ‘I left my last job a few weeks ago.’
‘Why?’
Josh let out an exasperated sigh. ‘For goodness’ sake, Mac. You sound like the Spanish Inquisition.’
‘Are you always this suspicious?’ Louisa sipped her water and then put the glass down on the table. ‘I’m a perfectly competent nurse, if that’s what’s worrying you. Your unit sister has my references if you want to check them.’ She broke off and hesitated briefly. ‘And I left because I didn’t want to be in London on my own at Christmas.’ She stood up and started stacking plates into the dishwasher. ‘I always get restless at this time of year.’
Mac sat back in his chair. ‘You don’t like Christmas?’
‘Oh, I love Christmas,’ she said softly, closing the dishwasher with a click. ‘It’s my favourite time of year.’
He sensed that she was going to say something more and then her mouth closed firmly and she carried on clearing up. He watched as she busied herself around the kitchen and wondered what she was hiding.
Because he had a feeling she was hiding something.
He took a deep breath and prepared to question her further, and then he caught the warning gleam in his brother’s blue eyes. ‘All right. You can stay.’ What the hell was he saying? ‘Just for now. Once you start working in the department you’ll find you won’t have time to clean up after us.’
She’d get fed up and leave and that would save him the bother of sending her away.
The tension seemed to ooze out of her. ‘I can stay? Really?’ Her voice was husky and curled itself around his insides like velvet. ‘Thank you.’
Josh grinned and put down his fork. ‘Thank goodness for that. She would have been a pretty difficult Christmas present to send back.’ He raised his glass and winked at Louisa. ‘To a decent Christmas dinner for once in our lives.’
CHAPTER THREE (#ue2dc6a87-64d3-5d37-bfe0-6db9801ba793)
‘SO MY Christmas present has so far tidied your house and cooked you an amazing meal. And the coffee she left for us this morning was the best I’ve tasted. Any time you want to thank me, just go ahead.’ Josh threw a smug smile at his brother and held out his hand to one of the A and E nurses, who was hovering with some X-rays. ‘Are those for me?’ He took the X-rays, flicked on the light box and whistled. ‘Just look at that.’
‘I’m looking.’ Mac narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s a nasty fracture. Did you call the orthopods?’
‘No, I thought I’d fix it myself in my lunch-break,’ Josh drawled sarcastically, a wry smile touching his mouth as he glanced at his brother. ‘Of course I called them. What do you think I am, a first-year medical student who you have to watch out for?’
‘Sorry.’ Mac gave an apologetic smile and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘You may be a consultant but to me you’re still my kid brother.’
‘The kid brother who works like a dog so that you can get some sleep at night,’ Josh reminded him, yanking the X-ray out of the light box and returning it to the brown envelope. ‘I’d better go and talk to the relatives. Have you seen Louisa this morning? How’s she getting on?’
‘At first glance she seems good,’ Mac conceded, walking with his brother back through the department towards the trolley bay. ‘Certainly knows her way round an A and E department.’
‘And she knows her way round a kitchen, too, which has got to be good. I’m sick of take-aways.’ Josh gave a shudder and came to a halt outside one of the treatment rooms. ‘Just don’t frighten her off with any more of your sharp remarks. I’m looking forward to tasting proper turkey for the first time in years.’
Mac sighed. ‘I want to make sure that she doesn’t get any ideas. She was giving me ‘‘I want to save you’’ looks this morning.’
It happened all the time since Melissa had died and it drove him nuts.
‘Has she thrown herself at you?’
‘No, but—’
‘Trust me.’ Josh’s tone was dry. ‘Even you wouldn’t get that lucky. Louisa doesn’t do casual relationships.’
Mac looked at his brother, his hackles rising for some reason he couldn’t fathom. ‘You’ve tried?’
‘Do I look stupid?’ Josh threw him a wicked grin. ‘Of course I tried. Several times, actually. She wouldn’t have me.’
Mac hid his surprise. He knew only too well that most women found it hard to resist his younger brother. ‘In that case, she’s just gone up in my estimation.’
‘Thanks.’
Mac shrugged. ‘I still don’t understand why she would want to come to Cornwall in the middle of winter to look after two strangers.’
‘Speak for yourself. I’m not strange.’ Josh smothered a yawn. ‘And the answer to that will become clear once you get to know Louisa.’
Mac frowned. ‘Meaning?’
‘OK.’ Josh took a deep breath, his blue eyes serious for once. ‘Louisa doesn’t like being on her own at Christmas. On top of that, she’s a genuinely kind and generous person who can’t pass someone in trouble without trying to help. Watch her in action and you’ll see what I mean. She’s a fixer.’
‘So what exactly is she fixing with me?’
‘Your life,’ Josh said, slapping him hard between the shoulder blades, ‘and, goodness knows, it needs it.’
* * *
‘I know I’ve broken it, Nurse.’
Louisa stared down at the badly deformed wrist and then at the wrinkled, aged face of the lady looking at her so anxiously. ‘I think you’re right, Alice,’ she said gently. ‘I’ll get a doctor to look at it and then we’ll take some X-rays. Try not to worry. We’ll get it sorted out.’
‘I can’t believe this has happened.’ Alice’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I should never have gone out but I wanted to do some Christmas shopping. I don’t want to miss the last posting date. Vera is useless at that sort of thing, you see. The shopping is my responsibility.’
‘Who’s Vera?’ Louisa reached for an X-ray form and filled in all the necessary details.
‘My sister. She relies on me for everything,’ Alice fretted. ‘I’m the organised one, you see. She’s not very strong. I look after her.’
Louisa glanced at the date of birth on the notes and calculated that Alice was eighty-six. ‘You look after her?’ She kept her tone level, careful not to betray surprise or concern.
‘Ever since her husband died twenty years ago. We argue, of course.’ Alice gave a weak smile. ‘But generally we rub along very well together. I’m the active one.’
Louisa mentally filed that information. ‘Do you have any help in the home?’
‘We’ve never needed any,’ Alice said proudly, clutching her handbag with her good hand. ‘I shop and cook and Vera manages a bit of housework around the place. We’re a good team. And if we get stuck then someone in the village will always help. That’s the good thing about living in a small community. Everyone looks out for everyone.’
Louisa smiled. ‘Well, you might need some help with the shopping and cooking with that wrist out of action.’ She tucked her pen back in her pocket. ‘I’m going to get a doctor to take a look at your wrist so that we can get you sorted out.’
‘You need a doctor?’ Mac’s deep drawl came from right behind her and she felt her heart jump in her chest. She turned quickly, feeling colour touch her cheeks as she met his cool gaze. Whenever she laid eyes on him she found it difficult to breathe.
Which was ridiculous, because Mac Sullivan was not a man who encouraged the attentions of women, even though he clearly attracted them.
He was brooding, gorgeous and too remote for his own good, she decided. Why did he insist on keeping people at a distance? Resolving to peel away the layers until she revealed the man underneath, Louisa turned her attention back to her patient.
‘Poor Alice had a bit of a fall,’ she said huskily, giving the old lady with a reassuring smile. ‘I’ve filled out the X-ray forms but she hasn’t been seen yet.’
Mac pulled out a chair and sat down so that he was at eye level with his patient. ‘Pavements icy out there today, Mrs Ford?’
‘Yes, and you’re probably thinking that it was stupid of me to go out,’ Alice fretted, glancing helplessly at Louisa. ‘I should have stayed indoors but I needed some last-minute presents. The annoying thing is that I didn’t even get round to buying them.’
‘Don’t worry about the presents,’ Mac said calmly, examining the wrist with gentle fingers. ‘Are you tender here?’ He moved his fingers. ‘What about here?’
‘No, not particularly.’ Alice watched as he checked her pulses and finished his examination.
‘All right. That’s fine for now.’ He reached for the X-ray form that Louisa had already started filling in and signed it. ‘We’ll check your X-rays and then take it from there.’
‘I can’t stay in hospital,’ Alice said firmly. ‘I’ve got my sister to look after. She can’t manage without me.’
Mac frowned slightly and stood up. ‘Let’s see what the X-rays tell us and then we’ll worry about that.’ He looked at Louisa. ‘Give me a shout when the films are back.’
She nodded and watched as he strolled away, the bright lights of the A and E department glinting off his dark hair, his shoulders impossibly broad.
He wasn’t her type, she told herself firmly.
He might be shockingly handsome but he was remote and distant and not at all tactile.
When she finally fell in love, it was going to be with a real family man. Someone who wanted a noisy, crowded home, just as she did, with hordes of children and several dogs.
Not someone like Mac who was self-contained and kept himself apart from others.
Did he even like children? she wondered.
‘We’ve all worried about him since his wife died,’ Alice said wistfully. ‘Such a tragedy. We’ve been longing for him to find someone else but he only has time for his work. After she died we all mucked in, you know—made him food, tried to get him out and about, but he wasn’t having any of it. Spends time with his surfboard and that playboy brother of his with the wicked smile.’ She made a clucking sound with her tongue. ‘What a waste. He’s such a handsome boy.’
Louisa chuckled. ‘He’s the senior consultant and in his mid-thirties at a guess. I don’t think he’s a boy, Alice.’
As far as she was concerned, he was all man. Every delicious, intimidating inch of him.
‘When you’re ninety, he’s a boy,’ Alice said dryly. ‘Now, shall we take that trip to X-Ray?’
Louisa smiled. ‘Good idea. Let’s get a closer look at those bones of yours.’
* * *
‘Well, it’s not displaced so she can just go to the fracture clinic and have a back slab,’ Mac muttered, studying the X-rays carefully, his broad shoulders brushing against Louisa, who stood next to him.
This close he could smell her perfume and it played havoc with his senses. He wasn’t even sure if it was perfume. It could have been shampoo or just Louisa. But whatever it was, she smelt amazing.
He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, reminding himself that he wasn’t interested in women. Once or twice he’d tried to rekindle that part of himself after Melissa had died, but women always wanted more than he was willing or able to give. He wasn’t interested in a relationship. He was better off on his own.
‘I expect we ought to write to her GP. This sort of fracture is very common in women with osteoporosis. He ought to arrange a DEXA scan.’ Louisa frowned at the light box, oblivious to his scrutiny. This close he noticed that her nose turned up slightly and was dusted with freckles. She never seemed to stop smiling. She turned to look at him. ‘Don’t you think?’ Didn’t he think what?’
He searched his mind for the last thing she’d said. ‘DEXA scan. Good idea. I’ll write to the GP.’
‘I gather she lives down the road from you.’ Louisa handed him the notes and he took them, wondering what his response was supposed to be. ‘With her sister.’
‘That’s right.’
‘She told me she used to cook for you sometimes.’
Mac looked at her. ‘The two of them kept checking up on me after my wife died. Every time I came home one of them would be on my doorstep with a cake or a casserole.’
She smiled. ‘How kind.’
Mac inhaled sharply. ‘I prefer my privacy.’
‘That’s what I heard.’ There was a hint of reproach in her voice and he bit back an impatient remark.
‘Living in a village comes with disadvantages, Louisa,’ he said grimly as they walked back towards the treatment room. ‘One of those is a total lack of privacy. Not everyone wants to be surrounded by people discussing their business all the time, and I’m one of them. I’m better off on my own.’
‘Why?’ Her gaze was clear and direct. ‘What’s wrong with knowing your neighbours, Dr Sullivan, and allowing them to know you?’
He sighed. Somehow she managed to make him feel in the wrong. Which was ridiculous, because he gave enough of himself to his patients. He had a right to privacy. ‘In case it’s escaped your notice, I have a busy job. I give everything I have to the hospital. I don’t have time for anything else.’
She nodded slowly. ‘That’s what I thought. But what about you, Mac? Who gives to you?’
He frowned. ‘I have everything I need.’
‘Maybe you don’t know what you need.’ She took the X-rays from him. ‘This is going to cause Alice a problem. She looks after her elderly sister. Does everything. Shopping and cooking. She can’t do that with a broken wrist.’
Mac gave a brief nod, impressed that she’d discovered that so quickly. ‘Good point. We’ll give Social Services a ring. Get them some help.’
‘I’m not sure that they’re the sort to accept help easily. They’re obviously very independent.’
‘Well, if there’s no family to step in, what’s the alternative?’ Mac asked patiently, and Louisa chewed her lip thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know, but I’m working on it.’
‘Don’t tell me.’ His tone was dry. ‘Your interfering personality again?’
‘Probably.’
She looked so worried that Mac gave a sigh. ‘She’s a sweet lady, I grant you, but it isn’t our job to care for her until her bones heal.’
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s a cop-out.’
He inhaled deeply. She was doing it again. Making him feel guilty. ‘What do you expect me to do? Move in with all my patients?’ His tone was testy but he couldn’t help it. ‘Our job is to patch them up, Louisa. Someone else has to sort out the other stuff.’
‘But I don’t believe the ‘‘other stuff’’, as you call it, can be so neatly separated,’ Louisa said calmly, tucking the X-rays under her arm. ‘A patient is so much more than just a broken wrist.’
Mac’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re too idealistic. This is the real world, Louisa. Too many patients, too few staff. If we mend the broken bones then we’re doing well. We certainly don’t have time to sort out the rest of people’s lives.’
She gave him a smile designed to melt the heart of the most hardened cynic. ‘You’re working too hard, Dr Sullivan. You’ve developed tunnel vision. These patients of yours are human beings, not bones. And Alice is your neighbour.’
‘You can drop the ‘‘Dr Sullivan’’. If you’re going to abuse me, you may as well use my first name,’ he said dryly, and she chuckled.
‘All right, but I still think you’re working too hard. Someone needs to reintroduce you to the world.’
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Сара Морган
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Christmas is coming, but for E.R. consultant Mac Sullivan it’s just another day. Since losing his wife two years ago, he’s thrown himself into work and has no interest in serious relationships.Enter nurse Louisa Young, who brings warmth, sparkle and Christmas into his E.R. department. The question is, can she bring it into his life as well? Louisa’s one Christmas wish is that maybe, just maybe, she can melt the ice that surrounds the gorgeous consultant’s heart…