Playboy Under the Mistletoe

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They worked together to give him the medication and prepare him for the manipulation. Then they manoeuvred him from the driver’s seat to where they could work more comfortably. Jasmine positioned herself to one side, getting ready to stop any sudden, untoward movement as Ben popped the shoulder back into its socket.

As soon as it was over, Ian slumped back in his seat. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘That was really painful until you two set to work.’

Jasmine was pleased to see that his fingers had started to regain their normal colour, which meant his circulation had been successfully restored. ‘You need to keep the shoulder very still,’ she told him. ‘Any movement will cause more damage.’

Ben had been searching through his own medical bag and now he brought out a shoulder sling. ‘This should help to immobilise the joint while it heals,’ he said. ‘The tissues around the shoulder will probably be inflamed and swollen for a few weeks, so I’ll prescribe some anti-inflammatory tablets for you. I can give you some to be going on with, but you should get the shoulder checked out at a hospital as soon as possible. They’ll probably do an X-ray to make sure that everything’s okay…and they’ll want to make sure that you have no other injuries.’

Ian nodded. ‘Thanks. Though I don’t know how I’m going to get to a hospital in this weather. I don’t even know how I’m going to drive…or even if the car is capable of getting me anywhere.’

‘Same here,’ Jasmine said. ‘Mine’s halfway down a ditch. It seems we’re both in the same boat.’

‘Wretched weather.’ Ian grimaced. ‘I suppose I could call for a taxi…we could share, if you like. That’s if anyone will come out in this weather, of course.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ Ben put in. ‘I can help out. My car’s not damaged in any way, so I can drive both of you. Actually, there’s a cottage hospital with a minor injuries unit not too far away from here. They have X-ray facilities, so they should be able to sort you out.’ He looked at Ian. ‘I’ll drop you off there, if you like, and maybe you could call a relative to come and pick you up later?’

Ian thought things through. ‘I expect my son will come once he finishes work. He’s on the late shift, but he has a four-wheel drive, so I don’t suppose he’ll have too many problems with the road conditions.’

‘What about you, Jasmine?’ Ben’s gaze rested on her. ‘You’re not going to be able to make it to Woodsley Bridge tonight, are you? I can put you up at my place overnight, if you want. At least you’ll be warm and safe there, and we can make arrangements to have your car towed to a garage in the morning.’

A surge of relief flowed through her. ‘Thanks,’ she said, giving him a quick smile. ‘I’d appreciate that, if you’re sure you don’t mind? It’s getting late, and it’s a weight off my mind, knowing that I won’t have to start making all sorts of arrangements at this time of night.’

‘Good. That’s settled, then.’ Once he had everyone’s agreement, Ben was ready for action. ‘We’ll load your luggage into the boot of my car and get under way.’

He helped Ian into the BMW, making sure that he was secure and comfortable in the back seat. ‘The hospital’s a couple of miles down the road,’ he said. ‘We’ll have you there in just a few minutes.’

Jasmine sat in the front passenger seat, absorbing the sheer luxury of Ben’s car. Everything about it spelled comfort and opulence. The temperature was perfect, the seats were heated, and the upholstery gave off a rich scent of supple, new leather. There was even soft music playing in the background.

It all lulled her into a false sense of security, making her feel as though everything was right in her world and that it was perfectly normal for her to be sitting here next to Ben. She tried not to notice how his strong fingers closed around the wheel, or the fact that his long legs were just an inch or so away from her own. The material of his trousers pulled across his powerful thighs, drawing her attention, and she quickly looked away.

When they arrived at the hospital, they went with Ian into the casualty department and waited while a triage nurse took details of the accident and organised an immediate appointment for him in the X-ray department. Then Ian rang his son, and once they were confident that arrangements were in place for him to be picked up later that evening, they said goodbye to him and set off for Ben’s house.

‘It isn’t too far away,’ Ben said, as he turned the car into a country lane. ‘We’ve had to make a bit of a detour, but we should be there soon. I’ll rustle us up something to eat—it seems like an age since we had that snack back at the hotel.’

She gave a crooked smile. ‘I know what you’re thinking…I should have stayed there and agreed to have dinner with you. It would have saved all this trouble.’

He sent her a sideways glance. ‘I wasn’t going to say that…far be it from me to say I told you so.’ He grinned. ‘But sitting down to a relaxing dinner with you and taking time to catch up with all your news would have been good.’

She sighed. ‘I know. But I did so want to get home.’ He didn’t need to know how wary she was of being in close proximity with him for any length of time. ‘It’s just that my mother will be putting up the Christmas tree tomorrow evening, and it’s sort of a tradition that I help her with the baubles and decorations. I love this time of year. We always have Christmas carols playing in the background while we dress the tree, and my dad brings us hot liqueur coffees and warm mince pies, so that we really get into the festive spirit.’

She smiled. ‘Of course, he complains that he’s not really ready to celebrate three weeks early while he’s still working, but as a GP he could be tending patients on Christmas morning, so we tend to ignore that and get on with it.’

Ben grinned. ‘Your father has always been a solid, easygoing man, though, hasn’t he? Nothing ever really fazes him. I suppose that comes from taking care of all the folk in the village for years on end and dealing with their quirks and foibles.’

‘That’s true.’ She sent him an oblique glance. ‘What about you? Will you be going back to the manor house to stay with your father?’

He shook his head and his expression became sombre. ‘I don’t think so. That wouldn’t go down too well. My father and I have never seen eye to eye over anything very much.’

‘But you’ll be spending Christmas with him, won’t you?’ She frowned. ‘Now that you’re going home, surely he’ll be glad of the chance to see you again after all this time? Perhaps you’ll be able to forget what went on in the past and try to start over again.’

‘It sounds good in theory,’ Ben said. His mouth flattened. ‘But, truthfully, I don’t suppose he’ll welcome me with open arms. He can be stubborn at the best of times.’

‘I’m sorry. That’s so sad.’ Her green eyes clouded. ‘It’s such a shame to see a family torn apart at the seams when maybe a word or two could put matters right.’

His expression was cynical. ‘Do you really imagine that I haven’t tried?’ He shook his head. ‘I know you mean well, Jassie, but you should give up on trying to reconcile my father and me. I’ve come to the conclusion that it isn’t going to work. I’ve written to him, tried to talk to him on the phone, but he’s brusque and uncooperative, and I have the feeling that I’m wasting my time. It’s not even as if I’m the one in the wrong…well, not totally, anyway…But it doesn’t seem to make any difference to how he thinks and feels.’

His mouth made a flat line. ‘Things were said, on both sides, that should have been left unsaid, and the damage has been done. The wounds they leave behind never truly heal.’

‘I don’t believe in giving up,’ she murmured. ‘Not where family is concerned, anyway. I’d always be looking for an opportunity to put things right.’

His expression softened. ‘That’s because you’re a sweet, generous-natured woman who only ever looks for the good in people. I’m just afraid that before too long you’ll find yourself disillusioned, and that would be a terrible shame.’

She absorbed that, subsiding back into her seat without comment. The only way she had ever been disillusioned had been in her dealings with Ben. Over the years, she’d watched him, wincing as he’d made his mistakes, biting her tongue when she’d wanted to speak out about his various entanglements, wondering if there would ever be a time when he would look at her with the light of love in his eyes.

But that had been asking for the impossible—how would he ever have done that when she’d constantly shielded herself from him for her own protection? Besides, she had long ago given up on that dream world. Life had thrown a spanner in the works when Ben had gone away with Anna.

She could never keep up with Ben. He had been like quicksilver, constantly on the move, rising to challenges as and when they’d arisen. All his youthful energies had been fuelled by rebellion against the hand life had dealt him…losing his mother at a very young age had been a raw deal, the worst, and who could blame him for his confusion and disenchantment with life? No wonder he’d run amok through the village in his tender years and stirred up a storm.

Knowing all that, maybe it was the reason why Jasmine had always looked beyond the vigorous, determined exterior to what lay beneath.

Her feelings for him had never changed. They just became more impossible to manage as time went on.

Chapter Three

‘THIS is it,’ Ben announced after a while, turning the car into a snow-filled drive. ‘My house—I usually think of it as my summer place, since I mostly use it for holiday breaks or those times when I need to get away from it all…but the title doesn’t exactly fit at the moment. Still, I hope you’ll like it.’ He cut the engine and turned to face Jasmine. ‘Let’s get you inside and into the warm.’

‘Your summer place—does that mean you’re not renting short term, that this is actually your own house?’ She was puzzled. ‘After all, you must have a house in Cheshire as well, if that’s where you’ve been living for the last few years.’

‘That’s right. I bought this as a run-down property some time ago and spent a year or so doing it up.’

‘So renovating properties is one of those interests that you kept up? Working on Mill House back in Woodsley Bridge was just a start?’

‘That’s true. I’ve always been enthusiastic about restoring houses…ones that particularly interest me, that is.’

She frowned. ‘I wasn’t sure whether your father would have put you off. He didn’t go along with any of it, did he?’

He made a wry face. ‘Unfortunately, my father and I don’t see eye to eye on a number of matters. With Mill House he was convinced I was wasting my time…and money…and he did everything he could to put me off starting the work. Even though it was a successful restoration in the end, he maintained it was money that could have been spent on more solid investments.’

She nodded. ‘He couldn’t understand why you went to all that effort, could he?’

‘No. But, then, sentiment never came into his calculations.’

Jasmine understood Ben’s difficulty. Stuart Radcliffe never had time for such creative projects. He was an old-fashioned man, putting his faith in good bookkeeping and heavily involved with upper-crust institutions. Ben’s ideas were very different, stemming from the heart, and Stuart could not go along with that. To him they were risky, pointless ventures, whereas he was all about safety and security.

Ben held open the door for her and she slid out of the car, looking around at the broad sweep of the drive and the sprawling white-painted house. It was set in open countryside, and as the moon cast its light over the snow-laden fields, she caught a glimpse of hills and dales and gently forested slopes all around.

She looked closely at the house. She could see why Ben would want to work on this lovely old property. Clearly, it had stood the test of time, and now, with a fresh coat of paint and what she guessed were renovated windows and roofing, this was a splendid example of what could be achieved.

‘Of course, you’re not seeing it at its best in this weather,’ he commented as he went to retrieve her case from the boot. ‘If you were to come here in the summer you would see it in its full glory.’

‘I think it’s lovely.’ She dragged her gaze back from the scenery to the front of the house. A lantern glowed in the wide porch, welcoming them with its golden light, and to either side there were hanging baskets, filled to the brim with winter flowers. There were pansies, big, bright blooms of deep violet, azure blue, burgundy and stunning orange. Mixed in with those were purpleleaved sage and long stems of trailing ivy. It was a glorious explosion of colour that said no matter that it was winter, plant life was exuberant and thriving.

He put his key in the lock and opened the front door, ushering her inside and placing her case on the floor by a decorative plant stand. Ferns filled the shelves, their vibrant green a charming contrast to the mellow wood. The hallway was large and inviting, with a deep-piled carpet and walls that were covered with delicately textured paper that was pleasing on the eye. To one side there was a Georgian satinwood table, beautifully inlaid and elegant with delicately curved legs. A bowl of vivid red cyclamen provided a splash of rich colour that was reflected in a large, gilt-framed mirror that hung on the wall.

‘I’ll show you to the living room,’ Ben said. ‘I’ve laid a fire in the hearth, so once I light it the place will be much more welcoming. The central heating’s on, so we’ll be warm enough.’

‘I’m toasty already,’ she said. ‘The heat enveloped me as soon as I walked through the door.’ She was still looking around, trying to take everything in. ‘This house must be…what…seventeenth century?’ There were exposed oak beams all around, and an oak staircase led to a mezzanine floor that could be seen from the hallway. Even from where she was standing, she could see through the wooden rails of the elevated balustrade that the upper level had been tastefully furnished with comfortable chairs and an antique desk. All around, the lighting was subdued but warm, throwing out soft pools of light here and there.

He nodded. ‘It is…late seventeenth.’ He showed her into the living room, where the centrepiece was a huge fireplace, made of beautifully polished wood topped with an intricately carved cornice. ‘I tried to restore it carefully, keeping the original features intact wherever possible.’ He bent to light the log fire and stood back after a minute or two, waiting as the flames took hold. The logs began to crackle and throw up orange and gold sparks, sending a pool of light into the room. ‘That should soon make things more cheerful,’ he said.

‘This is so wonderful,’ she told him, looking around in awe. There was a richly upholstered sofa close by the hearth, along with matching armchairs, and it was easy to see that Ben’s flawless taste in furnishings was innate and impeccable. There was an elegant bookcase to one side of the room, complemented by a glazed Georgian display cabinet and a small occasional table.

‘It’s such a treat to see a place like this,’ she said, full of admiration for what he had achieved. ‘You must have worked so hard to make it look this good.’

‘It took a fair bit of time and effort,’ he agreed, smiling. ‘Let me take your jacket and then you should make yourself comfortable on the sofa while I start supper. I’ll show you around after we’ve eaten, if you like.’

‘I would love that, thanks…but perhaps I could help with the food? There must be some way I can make myself useful.’