The Doctor's Forbidden Fling (3 page)

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 inside 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.

In fact, he seemed to have found the best treatment for her particular case by continuing to pick up the debris around them and ignoring the latest addition to the elephant herd now parading around the room.

‘No wonder Mum was so frantic about getting this place tidied up before you set foot inside. I guess they just locked up the house once the ambulance left.' Nate in cleaning mode was as efficient as his mother and Violet decided to follow his lead. Time and distance hadn't made this any more feasible.

They worked quietly together, sifting her father's correspondence into manageable piles. The quicker they got this sorted, the easier it would make it for Nate to leave. She knew him well enough to know he'd see this out until the end, when he'd fulfilled his obligation to her and his parents.

‘Violet?' After some time he drew her attention to a stack of letters headed with bold red lettering.

‘Mmm?'

‘These are all bills. Most of them final demands.'

‘Let me see.' She snatched a few from his grasp and confirmed it. All correspondence, most of it threatening action against him, was leading to the conclusion her father was in dire financial trouble.

She collapsed into the chair with such force she almost toppled it over again. This was too much for her to handle on top of everything else today. Somehow she was going to have to fix this. She just had no idea how.

‘You had no clue this was going on?' Nate spoke softly, as if he was afraid of spooking her even more.

The façade her father had presented to the world all these years had duped many into thinking their fortune was never ending. She'd known differently.

‘The place has been leaking money for years but I didn't know things were this bad.' Her father's spending and refusal to admit they were in trouble had been the source of many an argument in the house before her mother died. The worry and uncertainty about the future had certainly contributed to her mother's fragile state of mind but he hadn't taken any responsibility then and he wasn't likely to do so now.

‘What? There's no magical pot of gold hidden under the floorboards?' Nate pretended to be surprised the place didn't run by reputation and superiority complexes alone.

‘Unfortunately not.' She lifted the stack of bills and slammed them back down on the table. This wasn't his problem. Hell, it wasn't even hers.

Whatever happened to her father, Violet knew she was going to have to be the one to sort this out. She should have known better than to come back. It had been inevitable that she'd get sucked back into her father's delusions of grandeur and the repercussions of stark reality. Perhaps she should have done as she was told at seventeen and agreed to marry Lord Montgomery's son. At least she might've been in a position now to help financially, possibly with her mother still around too.

This new discovery threatened to undo all the progress she'd made in her new life. Nothing had changed in her absence, she'd simply avoided dealing with it. She was back to being that frightened girl, lonely and overwhelmed by the burden her father had put upon her.