An Innocent Affair

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Adam flicked her a curious but not unkind look. ‘You were screaming at the top of your lungs for him when you came out of the anaesthetic.’

‘There are a lot of Alexes in the world.’ Is there no escape from the man? I can’t even be unconscious in peace!

‘Thousands.’

‘If you mention this to anyone I’ll…’ People did things that were totally out of character when under the influence—bizarre things. Things that had no significance. Her mental protestations offered little comfort.

‘Don’t worry, it’s covered by patient confidentiality.’ Adam gave his stethoscope a casual twirl.

‘By anyone I especially mean Anna.’

Adam grinned, but didn’t respond to this challenge. ‘Duty calls,’ he said, moving purposefully towards the door. ‘Good man, Alex Matheson. I like him.’

If I wasn’t stuck in this damned thing, she thought, banging the sides of her wheelchair, I wouldn’t let him get away with that. Damn that man, she fumed, and it wasn’t Adam she was referring to.

‘We’ll postpone the trip.’

Hope wheeled around awkwardly on the crutches. ‘Don’t you dare!’ Her parents had been planning their world cruise for over a year now, and they’d been talking about it for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t bear being the cause of them missing their dream holiday. ‘I’m quite capable of coping.’

‘I’d only worry about you, dear. If Anna didn’t have her hands full with the babies you could go there…’

‘I don’t need anyone to look after me. I’ve only got a plaster on my leg, Mum.’ It was frustrating to know she was fighting a losing battle. Once her mother made up her mind there was no unmaking it. She silently cursed overdeveloped maternal instincts.

‘There’s the door,’ Beth said, levering herself up from her armchair at the sound of a strident peal on the doorbell. It occurred to Hope, not for the first time in the past two weeks, that for once her mother was looking her age—she needed this holiday; she worked far too hard.

‘I’ll get it,’ Hope responded, gritting her teeth in a determined fashion as she did a neat three-point turn to get through the doorway. She balanced on one leg to open the front door before clutching once more at her crutches. ‘It’s you.’ She immediately flushed under the ironic stare she received in return. Of all the stupid things to say!

‘You’re looking well.’ The purple bruises that had decorated one side of her face, and other areas not on public display, had faded to pale yellow patches in the two weeks since the accident. His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the visible evidence of her fall.

His deep voice did the most insane things to her metabolism. ‘I’m fine, just fine. Won’t you come in?’ She’d forgotten just how intimidating his physical presence could be. Her eyes ran furtively over the strong, muscular lines of his shoulders and she cleared her throat noisily. ‘Please come in. Nice weather, lovely day…’ She managed to stop the irritating flow of banalities.

‘If it’s not inconvenient.’ The only reaction he made to the parrot-like style of her conversation was a slight inclination of one darkly defined eyebrow.

Nice weather, lovely day—inwardly she groaned as she felt the rivulets of sweat trickle down her spine. It had only stopped snowing half an hour ago, and the driving conditions were appalling. What’s wrong with me? Pull yourself together, girl!

‘I know you don’t want to see me.’ His dark, sombre face was impossible to read.

‘I don’t?’ She was treading warily. There was transference if ever she’d heard it, she thought sourly. It must be something urgent to make him voluntarily seek her out. He was probably going to warn her not to stalk him!

‘But my lawyer couldn’t contact your agent today, and there are a few details that need to be sorted out without delay…’

She was totally at sea. ‘Jonathan?’

‘Jonathan Harkness is your agent, isn’t he?’ Impatience was evident in his tone.

‘Well, I’ve only got one.’ And sometimes he was more trouble than he was worth. Jonathan’s agenda for her career and her own could diverge pretty dramatically at times.

‘I know you don’t want to get involved personally, but—’

‘Can we just stop there?’ she interrupted. ‘It’s not very comfortable for me standing for too long.’ She glanced pointedly at her plaster-encased leg. ‘Come along to the sitting room.’

‘Alex, how lovely to see you. I’ll go and get some tea, shall I?’ Beth said to nobody in particular before she disappeared.

Subtle as a sledgehammer, thought Hope, left with a strained smile on her face. ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me what’s brought you here.’ Since it wasn’t the charm of my personality, she added silently. She avoided the armchair—once she got down there it was difficult to get back up. Instead she sat in a oak ladder-backed chair with a sagging rush seat.

‘The fact that I’m perfectly ready to accept responsibility was meant to facilitate a speedy conclusion to this affair. However, your legal people appear to take that as a sign of weakness.’ He began to pace the room. He moved softly for a big man. His anger was evident in the rigidity of his straight spine. ‘The demands they’re making now are absurd by anyone’s reckoning. This last fax I got…’ he began, his voice like subdued thunder.

He abruptly pulled a rumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and crushed it in one strong hand, before flinging it savagely onto the floor. ‘You’ve picked on the wrong man if you want a fight, Hope. I won’t be manipulated. I’ll accept responsibility, but I won’t lie down for anyone to walk over me.’

‘Alex,’ she said quietly, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ There was no mistaking the menace he was emanating, but the cause was a total mystery to her. Anger began to supplant her confusion. She’d done nothing to deserve being on the receiving end of his threats.