The Doctor's Forbidden Fling Page 3

  * * *

  Violet waited in the car while he paid his parents a visit. She hoped it was quick. The longer they were travelling companions with this elephant from the past, the more likely they were going to have to acknowledge it. She wasn’t ready to face that, or the Taylors. Not that she held any ill will against the pair—after all, they were the ones who kept this place running—but she was tired and definitely not in the mood for grand reunions or lectures. Nate had left the engine running and the heater on so he clearly didn’t intend to loiter either. He was probably every bit as eager as she was to put today behind him.

  She shifted in the leather bucket seat, which was marginally more comfortable than the hospital waiting chairs. The mode of transport she was being chauffeured around the countryside in was still something of a shock to her system. To see the boy who’d spent his summers working umpteen jobs to save cash had splashed out on a bright red sports car was more surprising than if he’d turned up on an ancient motorbike and sidecar. It was almost as though he was sticking two fingers up at everyone who’d treated him as a second-class citizen in his youth and told him he’d never amount to anything beyond Strachmore. Ironically, the youngest member of the Dempsey family relied on public transport to get her from A to B. It was more practical for city life but it also had the added bonus of ticking off her father.

  She watched Nate stride back to the car in the muted evening light. He could easily pass as the master of the big house now he’d swapped his ripped jeans for those tailored suits. Although, he would probably look good in anything. Or nothing.

  Whoa!

  Those teenage hormones she’d thought she’d left behind long ago had apparently resurfaced and mutated into adult ones. It had been a long, emotional day and clearly she was misinterpreting his reluctant kindness for something...sexier.

  She cleared her throat as he opened the car door and climbed back into the driver’s seat. If only she could clear her mind of the images she’d planted there as easily. Her wayward thoughts weren’t helped by the fact his tall frame was packed so tightly into the car, his thighs were almost touching hers.

  ‘Mum’s in a tizzy about not having the place cleaned for your arrival. I assured her I’d roll the red carpet out for you myself but we’d best get out of here before we run into a cleaning mob brandishing mops and dusters.’

  Violet ignored the barb, simply grateful he’d run interference for her, when Mrs Taylor was probably bursting with questions for her. ‘I’m sure the house is as spotless as ever with your mother at the helm. I only wish I could clone her and take her back to London with me.’

  Unlike Strachmore Castle, her poky flat was never going to make the cover of any magazines but she worked hard to pay the rent. That meant more to her than gleaming silver and polished marble floors ever would.

  Nate threw the car into reverse and rested his arm along the back of her seat as he kept watch out of the back window. The smell of soap and hard-working doctor enveloped her and for a moment she was tempted to snuggle into his solid chest. He could give her comfort and a whole lot besides. Exactly why she should stick to the idea of him as only a friend, or her father’s doctor, and not someone who’d taken the lead role in her first erotic imaginings.

  ‘Do you know how long you’ll be staying? I mean, is someone holding the fort for you while you’re here?’ He trained his eyes back on the dark road leading from the cottage up to the main house, so Violet couldn’t tell if he was fishing for personal info or making polite conversation.

  ‘I’ll stay as long as I’m needed. I have a lot of personal leave I can use.’ She preferred to keep busy with work rather than take duvet days where she had nothing to do but dwell on things beyond her control. It wasn’t the first time her superiors had warned her of possible burnout if she didn’t take a break from her caseload so they’d be only too happy for her to take some time off.

  ‘If you need anything my parents will be here to help.’

  He was leaving himself out of the equation but it was a long time since Violet had relied on anyone having her back. For good reason. She’d needed to learn to stand on her own two feet to make herself stronger than her mother had been.

  ‘Thank you. I know you’ve gone out of your way to help me and I wouldn’t want to get your other half offside by holding you hostage to my problems.’ Okay, she was fishing. He’d been her first crush, her first kiss, it was only natural that this curious cat was wrestling a green-eyed monster at the thought of him going home to another woman. One who wasn’t afraid to make compromises.

  ‘There’s no danger of that. I’m a confirmed bachelor.’

  Those words had the same effect as if he’d thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over her as she jumped from one conclusion to another. She’d been so caught up in her feelings for him she’d never contemplated how much his could have changed for her, or for women in general. Suddenly his new grooming regime started to take on a whole new meaning. ‘You’re not—’

  ‘No, I’m not gay, Violet. I thought you of all people would realise I’m attracted to women.’ He turned and, though Violet couldn’t see his face clearly in the dim interior, she imagined he was looking at her lips, remembering that kiss too.

  She’d managed to block it out for over a decade but here, so close to him again, it was all she could think about. That first tentative exploration of each other had soon given way to a raw passion she hadn’t experienced since. These days she approached any romantic entanglements with a certain degree of cynicism and caution, which meant she was always holding back. In that moment with Nate’s lips on hers she’d given no thought to consequence or complications that could arise. That had come later when she’d tried to imagine a future together and failed. He didn’t belong in her world and vice versa. Ironically they seemed to have traded places anyway.

  As the stately home loomed into view of the car headlights, the butterflies in her stomach turned kamikaze, dive-bombing her insides until there was a chance she might hurl over the expensive leather upholstery. At least it was wipe-clean.

  ‘Home sweet home.’ Nate’s attempt at humour was a welcome distraction from the memories assaulting her from the second the stone pillars of the eighteenth-century house came into view.

  Her father, spit forming at the corners of his mouth when she defied him by sneaking out to a concert with Nate.

  Violet hiding in the old servants’ quarters when she was supposed to be dining with the Montgomery family, whose son had been deemed a suitable match for her at the age of seventeen.

  The empty pill bottle by her mother’s bedside.

  Dark humour was definitely the cure for dark memories.

  ‘In case you can’t see it, I’m giving you the death stare.’

  Nate gave a hearty chuckle, letting the serious doctor mask slip for a glimpse of her old friend. ‘Nostrils flaring, mouth puckered up like you’ve just licked a lemon, eyes narrowed to mere slits—I can picture it now.’

  Violet flattened her lips back into a thin line with a huff. She could hear the smugness in his voice that he still knew her better than anyone even after all of this time.

  They pulled up into the driveway and the sound of the handbrake meant there was no more stalling.

  ‘Thanks for everything. I can let myself in.’

  ‘No can do. I told you I’m under instruction to escort Lady Violet inside her ancestral home. Don’t forget, under different circumstances I could’ve ended up as your official errand boy.’

  He was being facetious. Violet knew he would never have played the skivvy any more than she would’ve been the boss lady. Still, it conjured up more interesting images if they’d chosen different paths.

  She let out a long sigh and admitted defeat. Having a surly Nate here was infinitely more bearable than having Mrs Taylor fussing around her, or setting foot back insi
de alone. It was one thing going home to an empty flat at night but an entirely different game coming back here where the ghosts of her past roamed the hallways.

  * * *

  Nate really needed to work on that keeping-at-arm’s-length ethos where relationships were concerned. He’d thought he’d built up a tolerance to all things Dempsey since his teenage heartbreak. One glimpse of those big blue eyes and he was taking on the duties of the whole domestic staff who’d once resided here—the chauffeur, the butler and housekeeper all rolled into one. He told himself his promise to light a fire and see her settled in was the only way to keep his parents at bay and Violet’s discomfort to a minimum. They meant well, their subservient role so deeply ingrained in them the very thought of Lady Violet returning to a cold, empty house brought them out in a cold sweat. He knew this would be difficult enough for her without an audience and he still had a duty of care via her father.

  Despite their history, or possibly because of the one they’d had pre-kiss, he still felt an obligation to help her. Perhaps he wasn’t as far removed from his heritage as he liked to think. He’d really been the only one Violet had had to turn to when things had got rough and it would be callous for him to abandon her now for the sake of his own pride. He simply hadn’t been able to leave her for the night in that waiting room, expecting her to bed down where she stood. In a fit of madness he’d even briefly contemplated taking her back to his house rather than expect her to face this place alone.

  Ultimately he’d done enough damage to his relationship boundaries already. She was only back in the country five minutes and he’d already landed himself firmly in the friend zone. Not a position he wanted to be in with any beautiful woman. Especially one he already had an emotional history with. One who’d dumped him without a second thought. Then there was the double blow to his ego with the whole gay thing. He knew one teenage fumble probably hadn’t made a long-lasting impact on her but he’d assumed it had been enough to define his sexuality.

  Now he’d slipped back into a supporting role there was no way he was ever going to win top billing as Violet’s leading man. If he’d once imagined taking her back into his arms and replacing that inexperienced make-out session with a more confident approach to recover his male pride, he’d stuffed up the minute he’d insisted on staying to talk to her about her father. Friends or lovers—there was no in between for him when it came to the women in his life. He didn’t even want to peek inside people’s personal baggage, never mind help them unpack it, and yet that was exactly what he was doing now. The pressure was on him more than ever to save his patient and return everyone back to their normal status quo. As soon as he’d done the gentlemanly thing and seen her settled in, he could walk away with a clear conscience. He’d proved the better person by not exacting revenge.

  ‘You put the kettle on and I’ll get the fire started.’ He opened the heavy front door with a reverence the stately home deserved even if the current owner didn’t. It was a beautiful building, full of history and wonder. Unfortunately it also held negative connotations for those entering it tonight. While Violet had been the princess held captive in the tower, he’d very much been the lowly serf kept in his place by his master. He’d dealt with a lot of those issues through hard work and determination but he couldn’t help feeling Violet still had to face hers. Although he still had an axe of his own to grind with her, he wasn’t totally unsympathetic. It was best he try to make this as normal as possible for her. As if they were walking into any other family home and not the country pile of her ancestors. Easier said than done when there was a huge chandelier dominating the space in front of them.

  ‘We do have modern-day conveniences like central heating.’ She was still resisting his attempts to phase her into her surroundings gradually with his assistance, but he was used to dealing with difficult patients and bolshie family members.

  She was more defensive than he remembered. He guessed years of independent living had toughened her up. A definite plus given his aversion to needy people outside the workplace.

  ‘And kettles?’

  It amused him to watch her flounce away the way she used to when his teasing went too far. It was further proof her fiery spirit was very much alive. She was going to need it to see her through the next days, whatever they held.

  ‘Milk, no sugar,’ he called after her as he headed for the study.

  It was the closest and smallest room on the ground floor, and easier to heat. The pale blue walls and ornate white ceiling of the entrance hall were pretty and in keeping with the period pieces dotted throughout but they didn’t make the cool atmosphere any more inviting. Okay, they had no practical need for a fire but there was something homely about a real fire. It was cosy and welcoming, something this house was sadly lacking.

  He could sense the disapproving stares of past earls staring down at him from the walls as he trespassed into the inner sanctum. They all had the same stern features of Samuel Dempsey. Nate wondered if not smiling was another one of the house rules Violet had deigned to disobey. Ruling with an iron fist might have worked in the olden days but, as far as he’d seen, all it had succeeded in doing in recent times was shatter the family.

  ‘Is this where they found him?’

  He hadn’t heard Violet enter the room as he’d knelt to set the fire in the hearth. It wasn’t until he turned around again that he understood why she’d sounded so pained.

  Her father’s papers littered the mahogany and brass writing desk and spilled onto the floor, his chair toppled over in the corner of the room with a whiskey tumbler lying next to it—the contents of which had seeped into the antique rug long ago.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Violet. I had no idea. We can move into the drawing room and I’ll get this tidied up.’ Regardless of the painful history between them, he would never have purposely exposed her to this scene. He took the rattling cups and saucers from her shaking hands before she slopped the tea on the expensive furnishings too.

  ‘It’s all right. It was just a shock.’ She righted the heavy chair and Nate set down the tea things so he could help.

  They both bent down to reach for the upturned glass at the same time, Violet’s bracelet clinking against it in the process. He reached for her wrist, curiosity getting the better of common sense.

  ‘Is this the one I bought you?’ It was only a cheap turquoise bead bracelet with a dainty seahorse charm hanging from it. So unlike the diamonds and pearls her mother had favoured on occasion. He was surprised it had stood the test of time, even more so to find she still wore it.

  A trace of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘Yes. From the day at the aquarium.’

  The day things had changed between them for ever.

  ‘You were fascinated by those damn seahorses.’

  She’d stood for ages watching them as if she’d found her peace there and he’d wanted her to have a souvenir of that summer afternoon together. He hadn’t known it would be their last.

  ‘They’re just so...serene. I envy the simplicity of their life. And, of course, it’s the male who gives birth. The female seahorse has a much freer life than most women, she transfers her eggs and goes back to her own place—the onus isn’t on her to carry on the family line.’ It was a tragic narrative of Violet’s childhood when she’d been jealous of a fragile species trapped in a tank. At least now she was free of some of her burden even if it had cost Nate a piece of his heart in the process.

  He flicked the charm up with his thumb so it rested on his nail. So small, so inexpensive, so evocative. If that day had meant nothing to her, if he’d meant nothing to her, why would she still be attached to it now? He felt her pulse quicken beneath him, met her eyes with his, and they were back in that bubble where nothing mattered except the chemistry.

  He didn’t know who’d leaned closer to whom but suddenly they were no more than a breath away from kissing. Violet’
s eyes fluttered shut, her lips were parted and waiting for him. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to give into temptation. Despite how much she’d hurt him in the past, he’d wanted to do this the minute he’d seen her again but this was typical Violet behaviour. She couldn’t drop him and pick him up when the mood took her. Not any more. Especially when she still hadn’t done him the courtesy of an apology or an explanation, never mind simply acknowledging what she’d done to him.

  Unfortunately physical attraction couldn’t always override common sense. A kiss was much more than that when it was with your first love, the woman who’d broken your heart without a backward glance.

  He let go of her wrist and stepped away from temptation. As he began to collect his thoughts away from her lips, the Earl’s collection of antique clocks chimed the late hour and sounded the death knell for this...whatever the hell it was.

  * * *

  When he didn’t swoop in and ravage her, Violet was afraid to open her eyes and face him. She’d done it again—gone with her heart instead of her head. Thank goodness one of them had been thinking clearly this time. She shuddered at how close she’d come to making another monumental mistake when she’d yet to address the last one she’d made with Nate. Her world was complicated enough now without resurrecting old emotions like zombies wandering through her life with no real purpose except causing eternal misery for everyone in their path. She needed to remember that every time she was tempted to lose herself in his embrace, that one place she was able to forget her troubles.

  In her defence she’d been under a lot of pressure today and Nate had been her one source of comfort, the only familiar thing from home that didn’t make her want to run screaming. Even in his current indifferent state. She blamed her faux pas entirely on stress. Apparently making moves on hot doctors was a side effect of tangled emotions no one had warned her about. They hadn’t covered that in her course. Then again, Nate was the professional—he should’ve known he was in danger simply by being in the room with her.