The Nurse's Christmas Wish
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
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.