Tender Touch

CHAPTER TWO

FROM his vantage point by the door Gavin watched her. He wanted to go to her, to open her door and help her out of the car, but he forced himself to remain by the door, his smile casually welcoming, while he watched her thoughtfully.

Laura liked it. He could see that at once without a degree in psychology. It was written all over her face in letters ten feet high.

He couldn’t stop the smile. He’d felt just the same about the cottage when he’d first seen it, and it was good to share that feeling. He unfolded his arms as she approached and straightened away from the door frame.

‘Hi. Welcome to my humble abode,’ he said with a smile, and, pushing the door open wider, he ushered her in.

She stopped just inside the door and looked round hesitantly, and immediately he saw it with her eyes—bare and rather bleak.

‘It’s a bit sparse at the moment,’ he told her hastily. ‘I’ve only been in it just over a week, and it’s taken me all my time to get it clean and respectable. Now I have to work on homely.’

His grin was wry, and to his relief she answered it, her face softening as she looked round at the clean but almost empty room. ‘It’s going to be lovely. Is there an inglenook in that chimney wall?’

He glanced across at the blank wall where a fireplace should have been. ‘I expect so. I was going to attack it and find out, but it wasn’t exactly a high priority. I was more concerned with having a kitchen sink that worked!’

Her smile warmed him down to his bones. ‘I see your point,’ she agreed. ‘Did you have a great deal to do?’

He gave a little grunt of laughter. ‘Just a touch. I’ll get there, though. Come and see the bits that are relevant to you.’

He led her through the doorway, ducking automatically now, and turned in time to see her face as she followed him.

‘Oh, Gavin, it’s lovely!’ she cried, and he felt his efforts were amply rewarded, just by the smile on her face. The little suite and matching curtains had been in a junk shop, and despite her new baby his sister had washed the curtains and covers for him and helped him put the curtains up. The soft lovat-green carpet was all new throughout, courtesy of the bank, and as he led her up the little winding staircase he found his heart was hammering in his throat.

For some crazy, absurd reason it was suddenly incredibly important that Laura like the bedroom and want to move into it, to share his home with him, so he could keep an eye on her and look after her and shield her from any further hurt.

He needn’t have worried. She loved the little room, simply furnished with an old wooden bed frame he had struggled up the stairs with, a simple chest of drawers and an old loom chair with a pretty cushion on it to match the curtains his sister had been about to throw away.

‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ Laura breathed. She crossed to the window and looked out, her mouth curving involuntarily as her eyes took in the view over the village to the church in the distance. ‘Gavin, it’s wonderful.’

‘Come and see the kitchen,’ he urged, worried now that she might change her mind and run away once she saw the primitive sink and basic plumbing.

She didn’t. Over supper, a simple salad with fresh, crusty bread and crumbly farmhouse cheddar bought in haste at the farm shop up the road, he told her of his plans for the kitchen, and she agreed, offering suggestions of her own that improved on his ideas and filled him with enthusiasm so that he wanted to start straight away.

He restrained himself, making her a cup of coffee instead and taking her through into his own sitting-room, now comfortably furnished with one large, squashy chair to accommodate his rangy frame and another, smaller one that Laura looked just right in.

She kicked off her shoes with a sigh, tucked her feet up under her bottom and wriggled down into the chair as if she belonged there.

He propped his feet on the trunk between them and watched her over the top of his mug. Lord, but she was lovely. Lovely, tired and still so wary. Why?

‘Well?’ he said at last, his patience exhausted. His mouth tipped in a cautious smile. ‘Are you going to come and live here?’

He avoided saying ‘with me’, although it was at the forefront of his mind and quite a different proposition to the one he had put to her.

She met his smile with a tentative one of her own. ‘I’d love to—if I can afford it. You haven’t said how much.’

He halved the figure he had originally intended to ask, and she protested.

‘That’s far too little! It’s worth twice that!’

Which took them back to his original figure. They settled on a halfway point, and as she agreed to it Gavin leant back against the cushions, the tension draining from him at a stroke.

‘When do you want to move in?’ he asked after a moment. ‘You can come as soon as you like; it’s ready.’

Her poor lip was caught between those little teeth again and worried gently. ‘Tomorrow?’ she suggested. ‘If that’s not too soon…?’

His heart lurched. Too soon? No way!

‘That would be fine,’ he said casually. ‘After work?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m on a late—I could bring my things over in the morning. I haven’t got much.’

‘I’ll give you some keys now.’

‘But I haven’t got my cheque book with me. Don’t you want money up front?’

He chuckled. ‘Why? Are you going to do a runner with my immaculate furniture?’

Her smile was worth waiting for. ‘I might—you don’t know,’ she teased, and he felt a lump form in his chest and swell until it nearly choked him. Damn, she was pretty when she smiled like that …

She set her cup down on the old trunk that served as a coffee-table and got to her feet, clearly reluctant. ‘I must go—my parents will be worrying about me.’

‘Ring them.’

‘May I?’

She was very brief—too brief. He didn’t want her to go. She did, however, taking the keys and promising to see him tomorrow at the hospital with a cheque after she had moved in. He escorted her to her car, keeping a distance, and by a huge effort of restraint managed not to hug her.

As she drove off, giving a jaunty little wave, he went back into the house. Thoughtful, he lowered himself into her chair. It was still warm, and the faintest trace of her fragrance lingered on the air. His fingers meandered absently over the arm, outlining the overblown roses of the print as he looked around the room.

For the first time since he had bought it, he realised what the house needed to turn it into a home.

A woman—but not just any woman.

Laura …

She couldn’t believe her luck. The cottage was wonderful, Gavin was so easy to get on with it was unbelievable, and her first day had gone really well. Perhaps her new life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Carrying her few things up to her pretty little bedroom, Laura unpacked her clothes and put them away, laid out her hairbrush and scant cosmetics on the chest of drawers and looked around.

The bed was made up with clean, crisp linen, a bedside table and lamp had appeared overnight, and downstairs in the kitchen was a note propped up on the table.

Help yourself to anything you fancy from the fridge. Tea and coffee on the side. See you later, Gavin.

She made a cup of coffee and took it through into his sitting-room. She had a room of her own, but for some reason she was drawn to this room, to his chair, huge and comforting.

She sat in it, tucking her feet up, and, leaning her head back, she laid her face against the back and caught an echo of his aftershave, tangy and citrusy, very clean with none of the sweet, spicy tones that she so detested.

It conjured his image, sprawled here as he had been last night, his long body, relaxed in jeans and a sweatshirt, looking comfortably familiar. Ridiculous, of course, because she didn’t know him and he wasn’t in the least familiar, but she couldn’t shake this feeling that in some way she knew him, was connected to him, and that this house was where she was meant to be.

It was so silly, because the last thing she needed was a relationship, and Gavin was the last person she would think of in that context.

He just wasn’t that sort of person, not one of the overtly sexy young doctors that seemed to cruise around hospitals in an aura of testosterone and sexual arrogance.

The thought made her chuckle. She just couldn’t imagine Gavin coming on strong to anyone. Not that he was unattractive—far from it. He had beautifully even features if one discounted the slightly crooked nose, probably a legacy of some lethal ‘sport’ like rugby, and his firm, full lips parted when he smiled to reveal perfect white teeth—well, almost perfect. One had a slight chip on the corner—the same accident? Possibly.

His shoulders weren’t enormous by any means but they were quite respectable, and there was no weight on him. If anything he was too thin, she thought critically, and vowed to cook him some decent, rib-sticking meals to fill him out. Still, his legs were solid enough. She remembered how he had looked in his jeans, and realised with a start that he probably was a very attractive man—if men attracted one.

After what had happened to her, Laura would find it hard to be attracted to any man. The consequences were just too awful, the price too high.

She got up, out of his chair that reminded her so unsettlingly of him, and put her cup back in the kitchen. She needed to change and get back to the hospital, give Gavin his cheque for the first month and be on duty by twelve-thirty. It was already after eleven. Running upstairs, she flung her jeans and jumper onto the chair, tugged her dress over her head, zipped up the front and pulled the stretchy red belt round her waist. Her tights wouldn’t go on straight, her shoelaces got in a knot and it was ages before she ran out of the door.

By the time she got to the hospital she was beginning to worry. Would she find him in time? She was getting anxious about owing him the money, and she didn’t want to upset him so early on in their relationship.

The word brought her up with a start. Did they have a relationship?

She hated that word. Business arrangement, then. Friendship. Anything but relationship. The word was too emotive.

She needn’t have worried. He was there on the ward, looking rumpled and very familiar in theatre pyjamas. She thought with a little shiver of shock that he was actually bigger than she’d realised, taller, heavier, more—masculine? Her heart thumped, and she had the sudden, terrifying feeling that she had made a dreadful mistake.

Then he turned towards her, his blue eyes lighting up as he saw her, and his face creased in a smile of friendly greeting. ‘Hi. Everything all right? Did you manage OK?’ he asked softly, and her fears dissipated like mist in the morning sun.

She handed him the cheque. ‘Fine,’ she told him, and she realised it was true.

The afternoon was busy. Gavin was around, quietly busy, tending to Oliver Henderson’s patients who had had operations the day before. She met Sue Radley, Oliver’s senior registrar and Tom Russell’s counterpart on the other firm, and found her pleasant if a little withdrawn.

That suited Laura. She didn’t want cosy little chats—not that there was time.

Ruth was going to be more of a problem. Married for six months, blissfully happy despite her promise to live with Gavin if he crooked his little finger, she was warm, nosy and a definite threat to Laura’s peace of mind.

They were working together on a drowsy post-op patient, turning her and settling her down again, and Ruth was chatting happily about her new house and her husband Bob, a paramedic with the ambulance service.

‘So, how about you?’ she asked as she switched the bag of saline to the drip stand on the other side of the bed. ‘Single? Divorced? Widowed?’

‘Single,’ she said economically. It wasn’t really a lie. She was single now. Anything deeper she wasn’t prepared to go into. She wondered why Ruth had left out ‘married’, but she didn’t have long to wait. The bongo drums had clearly been hard at work already.

‘I hear you’re moving in with Gavin, you lucky old thing.’

‘Hardly moving in,’ Laura protested softly. ‘He’s got two cottages. I’m having one.’

‘But they’re joined, and you have to share bathroom and kitchen, don’t you?’

Did she know everything? Laura wondered in despair. ‘I’m sure we can manage not to get in each other’s way. Anyway, with the shifts we both work, I imagine we’ll hardly see each other.’

Ruth snorted. ‘If I had a chance like that, trust me, I’d take it. That man is something else. You can take him superficially, laughing and joking all the time, but underneath he runs deep. He’s solid gold, through and through.’

Laura was uncomfortable. ‘He’s been very kind,’ she said, to fill the silence.

She smoothed the covers over their sleeping patient and checked that the drip was hanging straight before moving away. Ruth went with her. ‘He is kind—too kind for his own good. He gets very tired, because he’s so conscientious. Oliver thinks very highly of him, but one of the downsides of that is the responsibility he gives him, and Gavin takes it very seriously.’

He would. Even after such a short acquaintance, Laura knew that. Lighthearted though he might seem to be, there was nothing superficial about Gavin Jones.

One of the patients rang his bell, and Laura hurried over to him, glad to get away from Ruth and her talk of Gavin. He was beginning to intrude far too much into her thoughts already …

Late that afternoon Evie Peacey came back to the ward from ITU. She was stable enough to move, and they needed the ITU bed, but it did mean she needed to be ‘specialled’—supervised and monitored by one particular nurse every minute. The job fell to Laura, and she was glad, because specialling patients was something she loved to do.

Evie was a little drowsy still with her sedation, but even so she managed the odd witticism which made Laura smile.

‘One way of losing weight, eh?’ she whispered hoarsely, her face creased in a pain-filled smile.

Laura patted her tummy, definitely her weakest point, and grinned back at Evie. ‘Perhaps I should try it. I’ll get Gavin to open me up and whip out a bit of this, shall I?’

Evie shook her head disapprovingly. ‘You’ve got a lovely figure, Laura—can I call you Laura?’

‘Of course you can—and you’re too nice about it. I’m overweight.’

‘No, you’re a woman. There’s a difference. Women should be soft, not all hard and bony like men. It’s all very well looking at these skinny things, but you ask a man what he’d like to snuggle up to!’

Behind her back, Laura heard a chuckle and with a sinking feeling she turned to see Gavin standing in the doorway of the little single room, a broad grin on his face.

The next second his arm was round her, hugging her up against his side in a harmless, platonic and somehow extraordinarily disturbing embrace. ‘Absolutely right, Evie,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Who wants to snuggle up to a stick insect?’

Evie wheezed and moaned, and Gavin’s face instantly registered regret. He released Laura and went over, taking Evie’s hand in his. ‘Hey, you aren’t supposed to laugh at my jokes, only your own. How are you after the move?’

‘I’ll do,’ she mumbled, clearly tired.

‘Are you very sore still?’

‘Only what I’d expect. It’s all right till I have to move for any reason.’

‘I’ll increase your pain relief—Laura, we can turn up the pethidine pump a little to deliver it faster, and you can override it to give her an extra wallop just before any procedures. I’ll just take a look at your turn, Evie, before I go home, make sure it’s looking beautiful for the night.’

His smile would have melted an iceberg, Laura thought, taking the other side of the bedclothes and turning them back with him to expose Evie’s abdomen.

He lifted her gown and the plain gauze dressing to inspect his handiwork, the incision clean and healthy-looking under the staples. It was a very long incision, down the mid-line, and with all the additional rummaging around it must have been very painful. She was still having all her nutrients by intravenous drip, and the contents of her stomach were being aspirated hourly via a tube to rest her bowel until the area settled.

Satisfied with the incision, Gavin replaced the dressing and the gown, then laid the bedclothes lightly over the top.

‘You’ll do, as you say. Nice quiet night, no entertaining the troops, please, and I’ll see you in the morning, all right?’

Evie nodded slightly, and he brushed her cheek with his knuckles in a tender and affectionate gesture before beckoning Laura to the door.