The Doctor's Forbidden Fling (4 page)

She wanted to confront him, scream and cry, and walk away for ever. Now she could do none of those things. She was stuck here. Again.

‘I'll worry about these tomorrow, as soon as I know he's made it through the night. Then I might go up there and kill him myself.'

Nate arched an eyebrow at her with a smirk. ‘Now, I know you don't mean that. I told you, there's help available. It's a shame you Dempseys are too damn stubborn for your own good. You don't have to do this on your own.'

Deep down she knew he was talking about his parents or some other official source of financial advice but it gave her more comfort to imagine he was still in her corner. ‘You're the only person who was ever there for me, you know.'

Reuniting with Nate was the only light in this darkness and she wanted to run towards the safety she knew was there. For a little while she didn't want to think about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. He could help her forget, take her to that happy place away from all of this mess. What was one more mistake when her life was crumbling around her? All she had to do was convince him, and herself, this wasn't the big deal it had been when they were teenagers.

Suddenly she was tired of being strong, of bearing the weight of Strachmore on her shoulders alone.

‘Stay with me tonight, Nate.'

Nate's body reacted to the invitation before his brain kicked in and listed all the reasons this was a bad idea. He ignored all parts of him straining to make the decision for him, knowing Violet would regret this in the morning, as he would. For altogether different reasons. This was his chance to exorcise that painful rejection for good, but he knew her well enough to understand what this was really about. Her way of dealing with difficult matters had always been to divert her attention elsewhere, put off tackling the hard stuff for as long as possible. Violet was the Queen of Procrastination and he'd always been the Fool, keeping her entertained and distracting her from the hardships within the castle walls.

Not any more. He'd made certain he was King of his own castle since those days.

‘I think it would be better if I went home.'

She'd let him know he wasn't good enough for her before and he wasn't going to be the consolation prize now.

She stood up so she was close enough to invade his personal space and trailed a fingertip down the front of his shirt. ‘Don't tell me you haven't thought about this, about us—'

She didn't need to say any more. He was already picturing them together in bed, giving into that chemistry he'd never been able to forget.

He took a deep breath to purify his thoughts and make sense of hers. She'd taken an emotional battering today and he'd never take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable. Lord knew he wanted her and it was an ego boost to know it was reciprocated this time but it didn't change circumstances.
Friend or lover?
He reminded himself he couldn't be both and remain sane. He'd breached the professional boundary long ago and only friendship had remained before he'd ended up in no-man's land—a minefield he had to tiptoe through, full of the sort of explosive situations he'd happily avoided since he was nineteen.

‘We're both adults, single, with no illusions this would be anything more than sex. I need the distraction.' It was confirmation of exactly where he stood with her and that wasn't any place of importance. She might as well have been hiring an escort for the evening for all the emotional significance she afforded him.

Normally that kind of detachment wasn't a problem. In fact he welcomed it. It stopped things becoming too messy. However Violet wasn't a faceless one-night stand. Uncomplicated sex should never involve the woman whose rejection had made you so cynical about relationships in the first place.

‘Unfortunately, sharing a bed is not the modern-day equivalent of hanging out in the boathouse pretending real life isn't happening around us.' His heavy dose of honesty transformed Violet's coquettish eye-fluttering into a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, I've-just-been-slapped-in-the-face expression.

He was pretty sure he'd worn that same look once before and he took no satisfaction in being the one to cause it this time.

‘You're right. I don't know what the hell I was thinking.'

He could see the shame clouding her eyes already. That wasn't what he wanted either.

‘There's nothing I'd enjoy more than taking you to bed right now, but I think it would be a mistake. For both of us. Get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning.' He knew she didn't want to be alone, but he didn't intend falling into that old pattern of being at her beck and call again. He'd invested too much in that before and paid the consequences.

‘You always were the sensible one.' She gave him a wobbly smile and Nate knew he had to get out of here before the tears really did fall. When she finally did give into the real emotions she was trying to hide from, he knew he'd never be able to leave her.

‘And you always were the impulsive one.' He'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to talk her out of doing something stupid—like running away or sabotaging her father's dinner parties with laxatives. It was probably the reason she hadn't confided in him about moving to London. She hadn't wanted to be talked out of it.

This proposition was most likely a cry for help rather than an unyielding need to have him in her bed, but it didn't make it any easier to resist.

‘Goodnight, Violet.'

He wondered if she'd ever regretted walking away as much as he did now.

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE
TROUBLE
WITH
the countryside was the quiet. There was no traffic noise to drown out Violet's thoughts and nowhere to go to escape her shame. She'd spent most of the night replaying the moment she'd made a complete fool of herself with Nate. Lord knew what he thought of her throwing herself at him like some nympho desperate for a quick lay. She shuddered, the cringe factor at an all-time high as she recalled the look of disgust on his face as he rejected her advances. All he'd done was show her some kindness, more than she deserved, and she'd implied she was only interested in his body. Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, okay, his body had been on her mind since she'd first seen him suited and booted but she'd needed him for so much more than that. She'd tried to use sex to get him to stay when she was really yearning for his company.

After one bombshell too many, her common sense had been blown to pieces. There was no other logical explanation for her behaviour last night. These past years of being so strong, so independent had skewed her idea of friendship until she'd seen it as a weakness. Until yesterday, when Nate had reminded her how good it was to have someone in your corner fighting your battles with you. In her messed-up head, sleeping with Nate had seemed like the only way to recapture that fantasy world they'd had when they were young but he'd called her on it. She had no right to expect anything from him when she'd been the one to burst that bubble in the first place. What had been the point of walking away then if she was simply going to drag him back into all Strachmore's problems now?

In the cold light of day Nate's refusal to stay had probably been the most sensible option but her ego was still a little bruised. Clearly he'd done what she'd ultimately wanted for him at the time and moved on from her. She should be happy about it. Not wondering what, apart from her badly executed proposition, had turned him off her. That one kiss had been so full of love and passion for her she hated to think she'd killed it stone dead with her actions, even though she'd acted in what she'd thought was in both of their interests.

At least
not
sleeping with Nate meant minimal embarrassment when she would inevitably run into him again. The good news this morning was that her father had made it through the night and was as well as could be expected for a man determined to be in control of his own destiny at any cost.

Now that the sun was up she was keen to get to the hospital and see him but her thoughts were as muddled as ever when it came to her father. Last night she'd been afraid for him, and herself, as far as his health and finances were concerned. Yet there was also that lingering resentment that he'd brought her back here, unintentionally or not. These rose-covered walls and four-poster bed might be the stuff of little girls' dreams but to her this had always been a prison, a place that had robbed her of her freedom. Even as an adult she was still trapped here.

She tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the thick wool carpet reminding her she wasn't in Kansas any more. The wooden floors throughout her flat served a dual purpose—minimum cleaning and a stand against her old-fashioned upbringing.

She wandered down the halls trying to find the beauty in her opulent surroundings and failing. The shiny, gilded trinkets and ornate antiquities were exquisite but at what cost? She would've taken a childhood in a one-bedroom council flat if it had meant she could've had her mother back. Not so her father. Even when his wife had begged him to downsize to stem their outgoings, he'd refused to part with the family silver or make any concessions to give her peace of mind. If anything, he'd become more extravagant, throwing lavish parties to prevent the rumour mill churning with stories about the depleted family coffers. Her mother had been expected to be compliant in the façade, playing the glamorous, gracious hostess while quashing her anxiety with a cocktail of drugs.

Violet slid her hand over the smooth mahogany bannister leading down the staircase. It took her to a happier period when the house was her playground and this was her slide taking her from one floor to another. With few friends outside her preparatory school, she'd had to make her own entertainment when she'd been waiting for Nate to finish working in the grounds with his father. At least with him she'd never had to pretend to be something she wasn't. She shouldn't have tried to do that last night by making out she was some sort of good-time girl.

Perhaps he'd seen right through her façade the way he'd always been able to and realised she'd simply been acting out of fear. That thought was preferable to the one where he didn't find her attractive any more and enough to spur her on to get dressed and face the day ahead.

* * *

So many elements of what happened last night had been playing on Nate's mind. The most persistent one being Violet's indecent proposal and why he'd turned her down. He doubted she felt any more for him now than she had back then and surmised she'd been trying to use him as a sticking plaster over the wound coming back here had reopened. He knew he'd ultimately made the right decision. Going down that path again would only have led to that same dead end it had taken him years to navigate his way out of.

In hindsight her flight to London rather than take the next step with him had probably been for the best. Nothing had changed since then. Except they were no longer best friends and self-preservation was a higher priority for him now.

The discovery of the Earl's debts had added to his disturbed sleep; he was worried not only for Violet but for his family too. Regardless of his own thoughts on Strachmore, or the people who resided there, his parents were very much a part of it. Any financial problems would affect them too when it was their livelihood, and their affiliation was the only thing keeping a roof over their heads. The cottage was the only perk of the job as far as he could see and one that would certainly vanish along with the Dempseys. Strachmore's problems were also his now. He couldn't stand by and watch his parents lose their home simply because he and Violet had unresolved issues. They were all going to have to work together to find a solution. The future was going to have to be more important than the past.

He'd made Samuel Dempsey his first port of call on the ward rounds this morning to follow his progress. All had been quiet since the last dramatic intervention to restart his heart so Nate hoped this was the start of his recovery. There was no associated arrhythmia, with the heart beating too quickly, too slowly, or irregularly, which could sometimes occur after a heart attack. It would take a while to assess the full damage done to the heart and how much tissue would be able to recover but, for now, he was stable.

That was more than could be said for another one of his elderly patients, who'd suffered severe heart failure and had undergone stenting of his coronary arteries yesterday. The balloon catheter supposed to inflate/ deflate timed by the patient's heartbeat and support the circulation hadn't been beneficial in this case. After examining him, Nate had had to concede that a large part of the heart muscle had died and nothing more could be done. A younger patient might have been a candidate for further surgery but it had been decided at the morning multi-disciplinary meeting not to pursue any further investigation. Already weak, the patient wouldn't have survived another round of intrusive surgery. It wasn't the outcome he wanted for any of his patients, no matter what their age or circumstance. He absorbed every loss as though it were personal, his failing. If anything happened to the Earl he'd never forgive himself for letting Violet or his parents down.

After seeing in-patients, outpatients and performing a pacemaker insertion, he'd come full circle back to CCU. Deep down he'd known Violet would be here.

* * *

‘Hey, Dad.' Violet was glad to see he was a bit more with it and his pallor was a lot less grey today. She'd been sitting around for hours waiting for all the tests and scans to be completed before she got to see him. Making her own way to the hospital this morning had seemed like a better plan than car-sharing with the man who didn't want to sleep with her but it also meant no string-pulling visitor privileges.

‘Violet? What are you doing here?' His eyes were flickering open and shut as though he wasn't sure whether or not to believe what he was seeing. It was no wonder when she'd spent so long out of the country, and his life.

‘The doctors have told you what happened, right?' She didn't want the responsibility of breaking the news to him; he wasn't invincible. He'd probably call her a liar if she tried.

‘A heart attack.' He nodded and closed his eyes again. She couldn't tell if he was tired, zoned out on drugs or annoyed she was here. Probably all three. She was the last person he'd want to see him weak and out of control.

‘I wanted to make sure you were all right.' It was weird saying that when she'd barely let him enter her thoughts until recently. He'd been out of sight, out of mind, to enable her to move forward. Until one phone call had forced her to acknowledge he was still part of her life whether she liked it or not.

She stood by the bed, arms folded and doing her best to sound strong, as if admitting she'd been scared for him would somehow give him power back over her.

‘I'm grand.'

And people wondered where she got her stubborn streak from. There was no point telling him how close to death he'd come. He knew. He simply wouldn't admit it to her or himself.

She waited for something more—a complaint about sharing a room with the general public, a request for water, an acknowledgement of what it meant for her to be here. Nothing. Not even an attempt to keep his eyes open.

Violet took deep breaths to try and quieten the urge to treat this as some sort of therapy session, unleashing years of unresolved issues in a verbal tirade while he was strapped down and forced to listen. He was still a sick man and she was living with enough guilt without having to shoulder the blame for his possible relapse. She'd waited this long, she could hold out a little longer to say her piece. Preferably when he and Strachmore were back on their feet and she'd bought a return ticket to London.

‘And how are we doing today, Lord Dempsey? You were asleep when I came by earlier.' The sound of Nate's voice close to Violet's ear made her jump. Lost in her inner raging, she hadn't heard him approach, hadn't expected him to purposely come within five hundred yards of her after last night.

Even while she was trying to find the courage to face him her cheeks were burning. Looking him in the eye after her epic seduction fail was akin to watching your drunk antics at a wedding back on video. Except she didn't have alcohol to blame for losing control of her mind and there was definitely nobody getting married around here.

‘I feel like I've been hit by a truck, Doctor.'

Violet could only shake her head in disgusted wonder as Rip Van Winkle bypassed her with the truth in favour of the medical professional. It said everything about their lack of communication and trust.

‘Your body went through a lot yesterday so you are going to be quite sore for a while. We'll give you some more pain relief to make you more comfortable in the meantime. I don't have a problem with you calling me Nate if you prefer, Lord Dempsey.' He was smiling as he reached for the chart at the end of the bed with no obvious signs of long-lasting trauma after her little display last night. Things could've been awkward but he apparently wasn't going to make an issue of it. Not in public at least.

‘Why would I want to do that?' Her father was making an effort to sit up now, scowling as he did so.

Violet's stomach sank with the realisation he didn't know who it was who had saved his life. Nate deserved some sort of recognition. ‘You remember Nate, Dad? Bill and Margaret Taylor's son? He's a cardiologist now.'

‘For now we need you to rest but as soon as you're feeling up to it we'll need to get you moving, even if it's just to sit in the chair by the bed. It's important we get the blood flowing around your body again.' Nate ignored her attempts to big him up and went about his doctory business.

Violet couldn't help the eye-rolling when she might as well be talking to the walls today for all the notice anyone was paying her. Perhaps she'd actually died of embarrassment when Nate had walked out last night and this was actually her ghost standing by the bedside whom no one could apparently see or hear.

‘Nathaniel?' He was peering at Nate, his face screwed up in a sneer. Yeah, the penny had finally dropped.

Nate gave a curt nod. ‘There appears to be some narrowing of your arteries, Lord Dempsey, and we will have to look into the possibility of a surgical intervention before they become blocked again.'

‘You had a lucky escape this time, thanks to Nate.' She wanted to fend off the vitriol she could see was already building with his strength.

‘I want to go home.' There was no thanks or recognition this man had saved his life, only demands.

Violet didn't know why that should surprise her. Owing his life to someone he'd looked down on for most of his life would mean admitting his stereotyping had been wrong. That chaos theory would rip his entire belief system apart. It was about time.

‘I'm afraid you can't just yet. We need to build up your mobility gradually so you don't overdo it. Trust me, we want you recovered and out of here as soon as possible too. We need the bed.' Nate still managed to crack a joke even though it was probably killing him as much as her not to bite back.

‘And when you do, you're going to have to cut back on the whiskey and cigars, Dad.' It was time he took responsibility for his own actions to save his own skin if no one else's.

‘Just like your mother. Trying to tell me what to do. Who asked you to come back here anyway?' The old curmudgeon closed his eyes and lay back down. Conversation over as far as he was concerned.