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‘Me too. I should’ve asked before I did my sugar-plum fairy act. I got a bit carried away.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ There was that grin again and Iona wondered if it was reserved for the privileged few or it only made appearances out of working hours. It was unnerving that she even wanted to know what her relevance was to the rare sighting.
‘It’s my first Christmas in my own home, free from demanding family members, messy flatmates and fussy co-workers. Excuse me for being a tad over-excited.’ It spoke volumes that the first purchases for her new place had been an abundance of Christmas paraphernalia instead of essential household appliances.
‘I can’t say I understand the need for the fuss but each to their own as long as it doesn’t leak onto the premises again.’ Fraser verbally slapped the back of her hand but she’d had much worse from other men she’d inadvertently ticked off in the past.
‘What do you have against Christmas anyway?’ Since they appeared to have embarked on a truce, Iona thought it best to find out as much as she could about the elusive doctor before the clock chimed and he transformed back into his monstrous alter-ego.
She could see the inner struggle he was having as to whether or not to share the reasons behind his anti-Christmas stance in his hesitation to reply. He was watching her as though judging if she was trustworthy enough to keep his secrets.
Eventually Fraser sighed and said, ‘My mother died on Christmas Eve. I was six when they first discovered she had breast cancer. I haven’t really celebrated since, packed off out of the way to boarding school when she first became ill. Come to think of it, I don’t remember ever celebrating even before I associated her death with Christmas. It’s just not a point in my life I’m keen to relive every year.’
The heartfelt explanation shook Iona to her core—she had never expected such an honest and bleak insight into his background. As someone whose job was all about families and protecting young children, it was only natural Fraser’s story should get her choked up. She knew how traumatic it was to lose a mother but at such a young age he must’ve suffered dreadfully.
It explained a lot about his negative outlook on the season and she winced at how tactless her actions now seemed with hindsight. The shock of seeing those decorations would’ve brought those painful memories flooding back to him and it was no wonder he’d been angry at her. She was sorry that he’d been denied the joy in sharing Christmas with family but she didn’t want to pry too far into his personal life and jeopardise their ceasefire. It wasn’t as though she was keen to discuss Christmases gone by either.
‘I understand that and I’m really sorry for your loss but if you ever need someone to sprinkle a little Christmas magic, you know where to find me.’ It wasn’t a serious offer when it was probably too late to change his opinion on the subject but she did manage to get him to smile.
‘I certainly do but don’t let my hang-ups encroach on your obvious enthusiasm. You’re perfectly entitled to celebrate however you choose, in your personal life.’
‘It is a big deal for me this year,’ Iona said apologetically, understanding his point of view but also determined to go all out for herself.
‘In that case, we should start with getting you moved in properly.’ Fraser turned off the lights and ushered her towards the door so he could set the alarm.
Ready or not, her new best friend was coming home with her for the night.
CHAPTER THREE (#u6142c713-cbd1-5409-9f02-dbe1f719002f)
‘LET ME GET that for you.’ Fraser made a grab for the door while balancing a heavy cardboard box in his other hand.
‘It’s fine. I can manage.’ Iona, who could barely be seen over the top of the stacked boxes in her arms, insisted on doing it herself.
‘No problem.’ He took a step back so she wouldn’t think he was trying to crowd her. Iona was so independent Fraser always felt he was in her way somehow, even though she would never have managed to move all of this on her own.
None of this had been in his plans tonight. He had, instead, been anticipating another quiet night in with nothing but the clock chimes echoing through the house to disturb him. It had been his guilty conscience preventing him from walking away from the whole situation when he’d heard from other staff members how excited she’d been about moving in tonight.
Iona nudged the door open with her bottom but he wasn’t sure how they were going to manoeuvre her belongings up the narrow staircase leading to the flat above the shop.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just...this is a milestone for me.’ The apology was as much of a surprise as the tears he could see making her eyes shine like glossy chocolate. It was clearly an emotional moment for her and probably for more than the reasons she’d given him. He’d experienced something similar when he’d taken over the family home after his father had passed away, believing it was going to be the start of his new life with a wife and children, surrounded by love for the first time. Before then, being on his own had been something he’d simply taken for granted because he didn’t remember life before it.
Even if he hadn’t had his hands full, Iona didn’t give him a chance to pry any further as she made her way upstairs. Clearly the sharing of personal information was only coming from one direction tonight. Fraser had surprised himself by telling her about his mother’s death. It wasn’t something he usually told people and certainly not those he had trouble getting along with. However, he did want to explain his behaviour surrounding the Christmas issue so she wouldn’t hate him too much. Since she hadn’t slammed the door on him, Fraser had assumed he’d made the right move.
He’d kept finding excuses to stay behind at the surgery tonight—paperwork, the weather, waiting for news on the Gillens—but as soon as Iona had arrived he’d realised he’d been waiting to see her again so he could make it up to her for spoiling her plans. He had been sure she would come back to make preparations for the next working day and he suspected his overtime had been driven partially by curiosity over that frisson between them last night. It had definitely been attraction on his part, unexpected and somewhat inconvenient since they were co-workers and not harmonious ones at that.
Wandering the empty corridors of his family home, Fraser had little else to focus on other than his work and now that it had become entangled in his personal life it was impossible not to spend the night thinking about Iona.
He didn’t know what he’d expected to come of seeing her after hours but he certainly hadn’t imagined going home with her. With their history he’d never thought she’d actually agree to let him help.
It wasn’t immediately obvious if her concession was for purely practical reasons or if she, too, was keen to explore that new chemistry between them. He wasn’t about to ask when any possible answer was sure to unsettle him more. A dalliance with a colleague was totally out of the question, too disruptive, too close to home, and it had disaster written all over it. He couldn’t afford to have his love life screwing things up at work when he was just beginning to get things the way he wanted.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’
Fraser nearly dropped Iona’s belongings at being caught having inappropriate thoughts about her.
‘What’s that?’ He aimed for a neutral ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ tone as he stacked his box on top of the ones she’d positioned on the floor. There was still a car full of bric-a-brac outside but he reckoned he could unload it into the hall in double-quick time if he incurred her wrath.
‘Why would I leave a pretty chocolate-box cottage for this only a few days before Christmas?’
Once it became clear his thoughts remained private, Fraser deemed it safe to engage in conversation again. ‘It’s none of my business.’
Since she’d pointed it out, the contrast between the homely bungalow he’d helped her empty to come to this shell of an apartment did raise questions.
‘I mean, Mrs Dunlop said I was welcome to stay as my rent is paid up until the New Year.’
‘But you’re excited about having your own place? I think you mentioned that.’ Fraser could tell how happy Iona was. Her smile was warm enough to heat the whole building—which was just as well because he doubted the central heating had been on since the last tenant had vacated the property.
Personally, Fraser couldn’t see the attraction but, given how Iona had no qualms about making her mark at the surgery, he was certain she’d quickly make it a home. As soon as she bought some furniture. Unless this was one of those futuristic, space-saving apartments where the fixtures and fittings popped up from the floor at the touch of a button, she really didn’t have any furniture of note.
Iona’s quirks were in danger of bringing Fraser out in hives, her inability to plan ahead making him itch. When he’d transferred his stuff from his bachelor pad to the family home he’d allocated a specific timescale for completion, with all his things boxed and labelled accordingly for the removal company. Iona had randomly chucked things into cardboard boxes and bin liners with no forethought given to how she expected to find anything again. Even if she hadn’t got caught up at work, there was no way she’d have managed to get things in order in the space of one afternoon.
‘I do have a bed, well, a mattress, and there’s a kettle here somewhere.’ She began rifling through everything, unwrapping the contents until the floorboards were littered with bits of newspaper and kitchen paraphernalia.
‘I’ll go and bring the rest in.’ Fraser couldn’t stand back and watch this level of chaos without wanting to fix it. Something he knew Iona wouldn’t appreciate. This wasn’t his mess or responsibility and he had to get used to the fact Iona had chosen to live this way.
By the time he’d lugged the rest of her trash chic luggage into the flat Iona had moved into the kitchen. It would be generous to call the space open-plan, it was more in keeping with a student bedsit or, in its current state, a squat.
He shuddered as he set the bags down in the one space he could find amongst the mess she’d already created.
‘If that’s everything, I’ll head home.’ Back to his pristine house, which didn’t look as though it had just been burgled.
‘Look what I found!’ Ignoring his plea to be released back into civilised society, Iona held up the elusive kettle and two mismatched mugs.
‘Great,’ Fraser muttered through clenched teeth, accepting his fate. It wouldn’t help relations between them if he declined her hospitality when she was trying to be friendly.
‘For a job well done.’ Iona clinked her mug to his once she’d completed her task, oblivious to his discomfort in the corduroy beanbag serving as his seat during their tea break. The chipped cartoon cat mug he was drinking from was a world away from his mother’s fine china he’d become accustomed to.
‘So, er, what are your plans for the place?’ The old outhouse, long forgotten somewhere on the family estate, was more inviting than these four bare walls, yet Iona was so pleased with it Fraser wondered what kind of place she was used to.
Iona shrugged and slurped her tea. ‘I’ll get some paint to freshen it up a bit for Christmas and I’ll pick up whatever bits and pieces I need along the way.’
Fraser snorted in disbelief at her laissez-faire attitude to being a homeowner. For someone so fastidious about her work and keeping track of her patients, Iona was very blasé about her own personal life.
‘We’re very different creatures, you and I.’ Fraser supposed she would be as ill at ease with his set-up—with the family heirlooms giving it that look-but-don’t-touch vibe that made people hover nervously—as he was here.
‘I thought we’d figured that out a long time ago.’ She was teasing, even though there’d been nothing funny about their previous arguments.
‘We’ve had our moments.’ This insight into Iona’s chaotic world, such a contrast to the one Fraser had created around himself, made sense of their feisty exchanges. They were completely different people and living up to that adage about opposites. Last night they’d finally recognised the attraction even if they hadn’t acted on it.
Somewhere across the room Iona cleared her throat and he knew her mind had ventured into the same dangerous territory as his.
Fraser drained the last of his tea. He’d become too comfortable in Iona’s company, if not her new dwelling. ‘Time to go.’
‘Thanks again for all your help.’
He struggled to clamber out of the shape-shifting cushion trying to swallow him whole, which didn’t help the growing sense of panic clawing at his chest. He had to get away from here, be somewhere safe and orderly where he wouldn’t be ambushed by the furnishings or unexpected emotions.
‘Perhaps I’ll start my purchases with a chair or two.’ Iona came to his aid, holding out her hand to hoist him out of the man trap.
‘Not on my account,’ Fraser insisted. He had no intention of coming back here and certainly not to relive those distracting feelings he kept experiencing around her. If only he’d stuck to his schedule, all of this could have been avoided. This kind of havoc was exactly what happened when he didn’t abide by his own rules.
‘You never know who’s going to drop in and, as I’ve just witnessed, not everyone’s used to slumming it on beanbags.’ Unlike his, Iona’s place was the sort people would be dropping into whenever the notion took them. She wasn’t the type to be governed by social etiquette outside work, which made her home so much more appealing than the formal invitation one would require to gain admittance to his. Fraser couldn’t remember the last time he’d even had a house guest but that isolation was part of the charm as far as he was concerned.
Fraser negotiated his way through the detritus on the floor, waved goodbye at the door, but for the entire journey home he couldn’t help worrying on Iona’s behalf about her lack of preparation for the move. Neither could he put out the thought of the contents of his own apartment sitting in storage now he had no use for them. Iona was so pleased with so little but she really deserved better, and with a small effort on his part he could provide it for her and have her think of him a tad more fondly. He didn’t know why her acceptance had suddenly become important to him but it might have had something to do with her smiling at him instead of the usual scowl he elicited.
It warmed him on the inside, reaching parts of him he’d thought frozen in time along with the contents of his family home.
Even though he was worn out after his impulsive house removal, he knew he’d be returning to that compact residence before the night was over. Whatever spell had been cast on him the minute he’d taken Iona in his arms Fraser couldn’t seem to stay away from her and that definitely didn’t fit in with his plans for a carefully organised life.
* * *
Iona sank back into her bubble bath and closed her eyes. This was just what she needed after such a fraught day. Okay, so she’d had to wait for a while for the hot water to come through but like everything else wrong in the flat she was happy to put up with it when she was now the proud owner of all she surveyed.
A secret smile played across her lips as she thought of Fraser’s reaction on seeing the place. The outright horror on his face had been comical and she’d admit to intentionally pushing his buttons by leaving everything lying around to see if he’d try to tidy her up outside work. Iona knew he preferred everything spick and span as he was forever rearranging things in the waiting room, but since he’d insisted on stepping into her personal life, this was her way of marking her territory, creating a boundary. There was a chance she’d also been trying to rile him so he would overstep the mark and criticise her so she could stop thinking of him as anything other than her tyrannical boss.
To his credit, he hadn’t risen to the bait, proving there was some restraint and positive qualities behind his fussy, bossy exterior. He’d been generous with his time and support for her tonight and, coupled with yesterday’s revelation that her urges towards him weren’t only of a violent nature, she was losing track of the reasons to give him a wide berth. At least he’d made it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to come back any time soon so she wouldn’t have to worry too much over the consequences of inviting another man into her life.
It was easy to recall the feel of Fraser’s hands, strong and capable as he’d cradled her after the fall, and imagine how they might feel on different parts of her body. Iona soaped a flannel up her arms and across her chest, startled that her thoughts of Fraser had turned so...carnal.
She let out a groan and covered her face with the cloth. It wasn’t as though she’d become a nun on leaving her abusive ex but she’d put her career ahead of any notions of settling down again after being bitten, and a relationship of any kind had been the furthest thing from her mind. As far as she’d discovered, they only brought pain and heartache to everyone involved and she’d had enough of that to know she was better off unattached.
Now she’d settled into her position here and got her foot on the property ladder, it seemed her neglected libido was making a bid for freedom too. Its untimely reappearance around a man with the uncanny knack of riling her temper was entirely inconvenient—a weakness in the armour she’d built around herself since her reinvention. This warrior queen no longer needed anyone to give her life meaning.
Iona ducked her head under the suds, letting the hot water envelop her whole body in a warm hug. It had obviously been way too long since she’d enjoyed the physical benefits of a relationship of any description when her mind was dragging her towards that riptide with the potential to pull her back under.
In her watery cocoon Iona thought she could feel a dull vibration coming from somewhere beneath the flat. She sat upright, listening to the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the tap, which almost lulled her back down into the depths of soapy luxury until the shrill ring of the doorbell and more thumping noises downstairs prompted her to action. Someone was desperate for her attention.
‘I’m coming!’ she yelled, pulling on her dressing gown with no heed to the water sluicing onto the bathroom floor. There was no time to dry or dress if she was to get to the door before they left so she simply belted the robe around her naked body to protect her modesty.
Fraser was the last person she expected to find on her doorstep.
‘What’s wrong? Did you forget something?’ She couldn’t think of any other reason that would have brought him back again so soon.
‘No. I...er...thought you could use these.’ He glanced over his shoulder towards the stack of chairs Iona hadn’t noticed currently blocking the path.
‘And they couldn’t wait until tomorrow?’ Although it was a nice gesture, it hadn’t warranted an immediate return visit tonight. The impulsive act was so out of character she was thrown by his possible motive. Was this intended to impress her or an attempt to impose his authority in all areas of her life?
Iona folded her arms and did her best to make Fraser realise she wasn’t impressed that he’d interrupted her ‘me’ time for the sake of a couple of chairs so he wouldn’t get used to the idea of dropping in at will. It did the trick as he grimaced and gave her his best game-show-host impression in trying to sell her the quality of his wares with a flick of his hands.
‘I couldn’t bear to think of you here in this empty flat when I have a load of furniture sitting in storage.’ He gestured to the vehicle behind him, having apparently exchanged the practical car he drove to work for a gas-guzzling four-by-four packed with other household goods.
‘Really? This has absolutely nothing to do with you trying to fix me? I know you, Fraser, and how much my empty apartment was probably keeping you from sleeping.’ Her cynical eyebrow took on a mind of its own as she searched for a dark ulterior motive behind the selfless offer. He’d made it obvious he had issues with her laid-back approach to her interior décor but she hadn’t realised it was to the extent he’d empty the contents of his home to spruce hers up.
‘Sorry. I was trying to do you a favour. I probably should’ve asked first.’ Fraser took a step back, shoulders slumped with such dejection Iona may as well have told him never to darken her doorstep again. It was a trick she’d seen her ex use time and again to garner her sympathy and she’d always fallen for it, believing she’d been judging him too harshly and accepting an apology for whatever misdeed he’d committed against her. Only for him to exploit that weakness, lull her back into a false sense of security and strike even harder next time around.
She was less trusting these days but she had absolutely no obligation to Fraser so if he did overstep the mark in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate in bouncing him back down the path.
‘I’m not dressed for company, or furniture delivery.’ Standing here in the cold, face to face with the subject of her recent fantasies, made her aware that she was clad only in a layer of terry towelling.
‘No problem. If you want to put some clothes on, I can bring the stuff inside for you then I’ll get out of your hair.’ There certainly didn’t appear to be any sign of anything untoward going on behind his earnest expression and she could use the items he was offering. This would be no run-of-the-mill second-hand furniture either, having probably been vacuum packed in plastic wrap to prevent it being spoiled.
‘If you insist.’ She left the door open and scarpered back upstairs to put some clothes on. Things were awkward enough without hanging around him semi-naked and partially aroused.
Iona did take her time getting ready, going as far as drying her hair before venturing out of her bedroom again. Fraser deserved a hard time for trying to organise her life for her so she let him sweat for a while. Literally.
When she walked back into the living room he was breathing heavily, the sleeves of his once pristine shirt now rolled up and her flat looking as though someone actually lived in it.
Not only had he carted all the heavy furniture up a flight of stairs single-handed, he’d arranged it all and tidied up the mess she’d left on the floor earlier.
‘You really didn’t have to do this,’ Iona protested, tightening her grip on that theory Fraser was only doing it to exert some control over her. Yet, amongst the seats and the table he’d set up, there was also a small electric fire and a television solely provided for her comfort and not any obvious ulterior motive. Perhaps he deserved some credit for his thoughtfulness but that meant accepting she’d been on his mind tonight too and she certainly didn’t want to contemplate the implications of that.
‘I wanted to,’ Fraser said simply, and continued unpacking a bag onto her kitchen worktop.
‘What are you doing?’ As far as she was aware, she was the only one named on the mortgage and she hadn’t advertised for a lodger but here he was, making himself at home.
‘I didn’t think you’d had time to do a shop so I picked up a few essentials for you on the way over.’
Bread, bacon, butter, eggs, milk and a huge chocolate bar lined the counter as though he knew her shopping list off by heart. Although he was providing the means to christen her new home with all her favourites, Iona didn’t want him to think she was a pushover, someone who could be trained with titbits of chocolate. She was in charge of her life now and didn’t need anyone making decisions on her behalf. It would be easy to take all his efforts at face value, and as much as she wanted to believe he only had the purest of intentions at heart she had to protect herself by assuming the worst. Andy had made it impossible for her to trust anyone, especially handsome men who seemed too good to be true.
‘You really didn’t have to. I’m quite capable of going to the shop myself, thank you.’
‘I know. I just thought—I wanted you to feel more at home. Sorry.’ He started to pack the groceries back into the bag and the waver in his confidence about being there had guilt gnawing at Iona’s insides that she’d got him wrong. Perhaps Fraser was simply trying to do something nice for her after all. Learning to trust new people was a long and difficult journey every time, no matter how hard she wanted to speed up the process.
‘No, it’s okay. Leave them.’ Iona reached out and touched his hand to get him to stop and show him the gifts were appreciated. His sharp intake of breath and her reluctance to move back out of his personal space drew them back into that fizzing awareness of attraction to one another.
This thing between them was nothing either of them could control but she knew Fraser didn’t want to act on it any more than she did. They were complete opposites; they’d drive each other crazy.
Every nerve ending in her body was drawing Iona closer, telling her to submit once and for all. Yet, with Fraser refusing to succumb too, she held her ground. A rejection now would be humiliating every day for the rest of her working life here. If he declined her advances now, it would give him the perfect excuse to undermine her the next time they clashed at the clinic, blaming her hurt feelings for her next bout of stubbornness. A risk she wasn’t willing to take if it could jeopardise any future decisions regarding her patients’ welfare.
Eventually Iona forced herself to return to the less dangerous task of putting the groceries away in the cupboards.
‘How did you come to have so much spare furniture?’ She kept her tone casual, even though her heart was pounding with as much adrenaline and arousal as if they had kissed because she’d imagined it so vividly.
There were a few beats before she heard Fraser move away. As though it had taken him that time to shake himself out of the daze too. ‘My dad died a couple of years ago and I inherited the family home. I sold my apartment and moved back but I haven’t decided if it’s what I want on a permanent basis.’
Keeping hold of the contents of his place if he’d sold it didn’t make much sense to Iona, but she understood the death of a parent was such an emotional upheaval it brought about huge life changes. It had been her mother’s death that had prompted her to strike out on her own regardless of not having anywhere to go or anyone to help her.
‘Sorry for your loss.’ It was a sentiment she’d heard so often herself yet seemed so inadequate when it passed from her own lips. Those four words could never hope to comfort someone who’d suffered such a devastating event. She’d never known how to respond to it either. It wasn’t the done thing to burst into tears or go off on a rant about how unfair it was so she’d learned to graciously nod and thank people for their condolences.
