The Doctor's Forbidden Fling (6 page)

In a different situation that line would've got her hot and bothered for other reasons. Now she was simply cringing at the turn this night had taken already. It wasn't the civilised evening she'd planned.

‘Only the ones who turn up on my doorstep with third-degree burns.' He chivvied her upstairs to the bathroom while he carried the source of tonight's humiliation to the kitchen.

Violet eased her jeans down to reveal angry red welts across her thighs. They were throbbing so badly now as she sat on the edge of the bath she wasn't sure how she'd ever put her clothes back on again.

She took a towel from the rail and ran it under the tap before draping it across her sensitive skin. The relief was only temporary as the heat from her burns began again in earnest.

There was a knock on the door. ‘Violet? Are you okay in there?'

She wondered how it had come to sitting in her underwear in Nate's bathroom nursing a lasagne scalding.

‘Umm...have you got any antiseptic cream I can use?' With any luck a dollop of cold cream and a few glasses of wine would help her forget this had ever happened.

‘In the bathroom cabinet but I think I should take a look first. Can I come in?'

Her mortification was complete as Nate joined her, fully dressed, in the confined space.

‘May I?' He hunkered down in front of her asking permission to see her mishap for himself.

She slowly lifted away the towel covering the last of her dignity. In keeping with her not-a-date mantra she'd forgone all sexy, lacy underwear in favour of the comfy cartoon knickers one of her friends had given her for Christmas. Her cheeks burned as much as her thighs.

‘Ouch. It looks painful but you'll live. It mightn't feel like it now but it's pretty superficial. You won't require hospital treatment, although you should really keep those burns under running water for a few minutes.' He reached for the shower attachment over the bath and turned the tap on.

As Violet swung around to put her bare legs into the bath she was grateful he hadn't made her strip and get into his fancy-pants shower cubicle in the corner with more nozzles and buttons than she'd know what to do with.

Nate rolled his sleeves up as he administered the cooling jets of water to the burn site. After a few minutes of relative silence her teeth began to chatter from the cold.

‘I think that should do for now.' He patted her dry with another towel then retrieved a tub of cream from the bathroom cabinet.

There was such a calm, gentle manner about him Violet could see what made him a great doctor. He applied the cream in soothing strokes, not batting an eyelid at her choice of underwear. It was unnerving having him so close, paying such attention to delicate parts of her. He was tender and considerate, and Violet was forced to clamp down on inappropriate thoughts as arousal took hold of her.

Nate was still intent on treating her burn, apparently oblivious to the erotic nature his touch had taken on in her corrupted mind. If his strong fingers massaged any further up her thigh she might spontaneously combust. And probably not very quietly.

As if reading her thoughts. Nate withdrew and got to his feet. ‘We'll get you some painkillers but you should be fine. I wouldn't try and get your jeans on again though—they'll rub too much against the skin.'

‘I'm not prancing around your house all night in my undies. Imagine the gossip.'

Nate looked as horrified by that suggestion as she was. Clearly all that electricity had been surging in one direction only.

* * *

Nate was having difficulty putting out of his mind that image of Violet wandering through his house in the altogether, not least because she was already half-naked in front of him. ‘I'll go see if I can find you something to wear and throw those clothes in the washing machine before they stain.'

He needed space, and a reality check. Violet might not be his patient per se, but he definitely shouldn't be thinking about the softness of her skin while he was treating her. Not even her novelty underwear was helping to rein in his wayward libido. It reminded him he was one of the few who'd ever seen that fun side of her. A reminder there was more to her than glamour and pain.

He retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom where there was nothing to stimulate his Violet fantasies any further. Except the huge bed with the black leather headboard dominating the room. He turned his back on his pride and joy and yanked the wardrobe open. He'd known nothing in here would ever fit her but he'd taken the time out to compose himself before more than his trousers became uncomfortable.

The rows of dry-cleaned shirts and trousers were practical for a busy doctor but not much use for a slender burn victim who needed covering for both of their sakes. He paused flicking through the rails when he came to his lab coats and scrubs but apparently even they were too much for his over-sexed imagination to handle. He snatched a white shirt from the hanger. The sooner he covered her up, the sooner they could carry on with the real reason she was in his house.

It took a few seconds for his befuddled brain to clear so he could remember what that was.

She was still perched on the end of his bath where he'd left her, looking for all the world as if she were in that post-coital, comfortable-wearing-nothing stage. Except he hadn't had that pleasure and nothing about this was comfortable for him.

‘Here. This should be long enough to wear as a dress with the bonus of letting the air around those burns.' He practically threw the shirt at her in his haste to get away. He even contemplated going back to the en-suite in his bedroom for his own cold shower.

When his stomach began to rumble it gave him a different body part to focus on. ‘Just throw your clothes in the laundry and I'll see if I can rescue what's left of dinner.'

He reconstructed the layers of pasta as best he could and plated it up with the well-tossed salad. Violet reappeared in the doorway as he was setting it out on the dining table and diverted his appetite elsewhere.

The shirt skimmed the tops of her thighs, covering her curves and brightly coloured underwear, but it did nothing to hide those long, toned legs. He'd never be able to wear that shirt again without seeing her in it or smelling her sweet perfume.

He sat down at the table and took a long drink of water, trying to drown that persistent idea that this was how she'd look the next morning if she'd spent the night. All that could save him now was that folder of truth spelling out in great detail why he shouldn't get involved with the sexy heiress. She came with more than just overnight baggage.

* * *

Violet could see it written all over Nate's face that he wanted this night to be over. They ate dinner in virtual silence although she suspected neither of them had much of an appetite. Despite her efforts to make this a casual arrangement it had all the hallmarks of an awkward first date, or a really bad seduction attempt. After her last botched come-on, it wouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility for one to accuse her of faking a lasagne-related injury so she had an excuse to strip. If only she'd planned this. Or, Nate had been interested in her half-naked body.

‘That was delicious. My compliments to the chef.' He cleared away the dishes in his obvious hurry to get down to the real business of the evening and send her on her way before she caused any more embarrassment.

‘Thank you, and mine to the doctor.' Although she was still in some discomfort, the pain had considerably subsided, with only the occasional flare-up of mortification.

She hoped she'd recover sufficiently to put her own clothes back on, dirty or not. She didn't fancy doing the walk of shame home in Nate's shirt under false pretences. That was normally only a liberty taken after spending a night together. Naked.

‘Let's see what the damage is.' He'd retrieved the folder of paperwork she'd left in the car so they were able to finally get the evening back on track and prevent her from forming any more ideas of how she could get him into bed.

Violet spread the bills and threatening letters over the table, glad she had him beside her to help get her through this.

‘We've got household bills, unpaid credit cards, bank statements...'

They sorted the final demands into easier-to-handle piles. Her father would be apoplectic if he suspected they were going through his personal things but this was for his own good as well as hers. Perhaps one day he'd realise that.

‘I'm sure some of these companies might be sympathetic and suspend payment for a while if you contact them and explain your father's current circumstances. I don't think they would deal with me since I'm not family.'

‘I'll phone around first thing. It's worth a try.' It would help her if they could find some way to stagger the payments so she could work her way through these gradually.

Nate frowned as he gathered a handful of scarlet bills. ‘Unfortunately, there are quite a few of these which require immediate payment before you find yourself cut off from civilisation.'

Electricity, telephone and rates bills were ones she couldn't afford to ignore even if her father had.

‘And the credit cards are going to need at least minimum payment made on them. Not to mention the loans he's taken out with sky-high interest rates.' It took every scrap of courage inside her not to rip everything up and pretend she'd never seen it. Instead, she created a new ‘red alert' pile to be dealt with in the morning.

‘There's definitely no emergency fund anywhere to buy some time?' Nate's optimism had long outlived hers.

A thorough read of the bank statements confirmed her father had been living on a wing and a prayer for quite some time. No doubt his good name had given him more leeway than most but little else.

‘I'm afraid his finances are as dire as my own.'

‘Can I help?' Nate reached for the nightmare she was holding in her hand but she snatched it away from his grasp.

‘No!' She'd put upon him enough, let him pry further into the family secrets than anyone, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Asking Nate for financial assistance would be the final insult to all involved. Her father would never forgive her and she didn't want Nate to feel even more used than he already did. If she could find any other way to bail out Strachmore than borrowing from him she would.

‘It's only money, Violet. Something I can help with.'

It's only money.

How many times had she heard those words from her father? Enough to know it was never
‘only money'
. It annoyed her more hearing it from someone who'd worked hard to make his fortune, not inherited and squandered it. It was more than money, it was a matter of pride.

‘Thanks but I don't want to go down that road. I can cover a few of the smaller debts for now and I have an idea of how to raise the rest.' She didn't have much in the way of inheritance other than headaches and a useless title but there were a few things she could sell that her father had absolutely no say in.

‘I don't like the sound of that.'

He had his arms folded across his chest, his pride probably wounded by her refusal of help, but Violet hadn't relinquished total control just yet. Nate was her support but it was important she didn't compromise her own principles to suit him. Otherwise, that made a mockery of everything she'd railed so hard against. She might as well be married in that case.

‘Thanks to my mother I'm still a woman of certain means.'

‘You can't—'

‘I'm going to sell her necklace. It's only jewellery after all.' Suddenly the ball was firmly back in her court.

‘I won't let you do that.' Nate couldn't stand back and watch her throw away the only thing of worth left from her mother. Not on behalf of someone who didn't appreciate her and certainly not when there was an alternative on offer.

Money he had, could give her easier than anything else when it held no emotional attachment for him. It could solve the problem and let him off the hook a hell of a lot quicker if she'd accept it.

‘You won't
let
me? Who the hell do you think you are telling me what I can and can't do?' Violet leaned across the table to blast him as she battled for control. With that passion she could've been the CEO of her own company, defending her assets in the boardroom.

Assets he was getting a good view of every time she leaned over.

‘Your friend. I know how much your mother's things mean to you.' He walked around the table beside her so this supposed
friend
wasn't getting excited with every glimpse of her white cotton bra.

‘I have some of her other belongings, which don't represent the problems that kept her awake at night. Expensive jewellery was Dad's way of showing off money he didn't have, not an expression of love for my mother.' She had that defiant tilt to her chin she used to have when she was challenging her parents' authority.

Nate didn't want her to think she didn't have anyone in her corner. He was there, yelling advice from behind the ropes.

‘I don't want you to give up something you love just to make a point to your father. You might come to regret it.'

‘Been there, done that.' She was talking about him. He could see it in that wistful smile and he wanted to believe she'd loved him once. It meant everything to him to know she might've regretted leaving him. That he hadn't imagined the strength of their bond and he'd been more than part of the fixtures at Strachmore.

All of the anger he'd been holding against her for these past years seemed to fade and render his resistance to touching her futile. He reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

‘How did we end up here, Vi?'

Things could've worked out so differently if she'd been brave then and given them a chance regardless of what anyone thought. He'd been so in love with her all she'd had to do was give him the word and he would've gone anywhere with her, done anything for her. Now he was a man on his own, too scarred to let anyone into his life.