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‘Are you all right?’ he asked in concern, bending so that he could study her better.
‘I…um. Yes. Just a tickle in my throat, that’s all,’ she said, quickly turning away. She made her way swiftly back to where Robbie was still playing happily with the cat and stooped down, using the few seconds grace to get herself under control.
What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered sickly, running a trembling hand over the cat’s silky fur. How could she be jealous at the thought of the woman in Mark’s life? He was a colleague, that was all, someone who’d been kind enough to offer her a lift and then take pity on her when she’d needed a bed for the night. That was the only claim she had on him…the only claim she wanted to have!
‘Right, I suppose I’d better rustle up something for us to eat. Or do you want to put Robbie to bed first?’
Laura carefully smoothed her face into a suitable expression as she stood. ‘I think it might be better if I settled him down first. He’s usually in bed by seven and it must be that now.’
‘Almost half past, actually.’ Mark grinned as he saw her surprise. ‘I know. I hadn’t realised how late it was either. It must have taken longer to get here than we thought, thanks to the snow.’
‘Then if you don’t mind I’ll give him his bath.…’ She stopped and grimaced. ‘Drat! I haven’t brought anything for him to sleep in.’
‘How about a T-shirt of mine—would that do?’ Mark immediately offered, bending to ruffle the child’s hair.
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind.…’ she began hesitantly, but he shook his head.
‘Of course not. I’ll fetch one.’
He headed off to the bedroom, leaving Laura to take Robbie into the bathroom and start filling the bath. Robbie was reluctant to leave the cat at first but, once he’d seen the gleaming corner tub, he soon forgot about her. Laura had the bath filled and was swishing a little of the bubble bath she’d found on a nearby shelf into the warm water when Mark appeared carrying a white T-shirt.
‘Will this be OK?’ He dropped the T-shirt onto the cork-topped stool then leant over and pressed a switch on the wall beside the bath. The water immediately began to foam as the Jacuzzi jets clicked into action and Robbie clapped his hands in glee.
‘Me in! Me in!’ he demanded eagerly, holding up his arms to Mark so that he could be lifted into the frothing water.
‘Ready…Steady…Go!’ Mark swung him up into the air, then with infinite gentleness deposited him in the tub. Hunkering down on his heels, he scooped a handful of sudsy water over the child’s tummy. Robbie squealed with delight and promptly retaliated by scooping up two fistfuls of water and dousing Mark with them.
‘Robbie!’ Laura was horrified when she saw the water soaking into the front of Mark’s white shirt, but he just grinned.
‘Oh, that calls for reprisals, young man. Just you wait!’ He scooped up another massive handful of water, although Laura noticed that he let most of it escape through his fingers before he shot it at Robbie. It was obvious that he was completely unconcerned by the soaking he’d had and that he was enjoying himself almost as much as the little boy was.
Laura felt a lump come to her throat as she watched them playing together. It was so poignant to think back to the times when she’d watched Ian playing in much the same way with his son. It hurt to realise just how much Robbie was going to miss out on now that his father was dead.
‘Are you OK?’ Mark’s gentle voice broke through her reverie and she summoned a smile.
‘Yes. I was just thinking…’ she began, then stopped, wondering if she should share her thoughts with him. Surely memories like that were too personal to confide to someone who was virtually a stranger? However, it seemed that once again Mark had guessed what had been on her mind.
‘About Robbie playing with his daddy?’ Mark’s tone was so gentle that tears pricked her eyes and she had to blink hard to stop them from falling. She nodded mutely, knowing that it was pointless trying to deny it.
Mark sighed. ‘You must miss him a lot, Laura. I knew from your application that you were a widow, and then Rachel told me that your husband died about eighteen months ago. I’m really sorry.’
She took a deep breath, feeling strangely comforted by the quiet words of condolence. She had grown to dread the sympathetic expressions of sorrow in the months after Ian’s death, but it was different when Mark said it because she sensed that he really meant it. Odd, but it felt as though some of the cracks which had appeared in her heart after Ian’s death had begun to heal all of a sudden…
‘Thank you,’ she said quickly, refusing to let her mind go any further, because thoughts like that were wrong. She couldn’t forget about the man she’d loved just because of a few kind words!
Laura’s hands shook as she took a towel from the rack then immediately wondered what to do with it. She stared at the soft blue terry in a daze. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to do or say anymore. She had got through the past eighteen months by focusing on the need to take care of Robbie. Now, with Mark temporarily usurping her role, she felt at a loss. It was a relief when he took charge and gave her something positive to do.
‘How about we swop? I’ll finish bathing this young horror while you make us something to eat?’ He grinned up at her, his grey eyes gleaming with laughter, although she wasn’t blind to the compassion they held as well.
‘There’s method in my madness, in case you’re wondering. I’m sure you’re a much better cook than I am and it means that Robbie and I can see who can get the wettest.’
He scooped up another handful of sudsy water, laughing as Robbie crowed with excitement. Laura hesitated but it was obvious that her son was perfectly happy in Mark’s care.
‘Fine by me,’ she declared, doing her best to rise to the occasion. ‘But don’t blame me if you come off worst!’
The words were hardly out of her mouth when Robbie let loose another deluge of water. She found herself laughing quite freely as Mark splutteringly wiped foam out of his eyes. ‘You were warned!’
She quickly scooted out of the bathroom as he threatened her with a handful of suds, and was still smiling as she made her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and found eggs and bacon, a couple of tomatoes which wouldn’t have won any prizes, plus half a dozen shrivelled mushrooms, then set to work to the accompaniment of a lot of excited squealing from the bathroom. However, it was only as she was lifting the bacon out of the pan that she realised how right it felt to be doing this, how very natural.
She put the pan back on the hob and took a deep breath, but her heart was thudding so hard that she couldn’t think straight. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps thinking about why she should feel like this would do more harm than good. For one night at least she should forget about the problems, forget about the rights and wrongs, the yeses and the nos. She would take the next few hours as they came…
‘That was delicious! I don’t suppose you’d like a career change? I’m in desperate need of a chief cook and bottle-washer.…’
Mark sighed comically as Laura smilingly shook her head. The eggs and bacon had been devoured in an appreciative silence which had been like balm to her overwrought nerves. Not only had she been able to eat the meal but she’d actually enjoyed it. She had been right to let events run their own course rather than worrying, she decided as she got up to take their plates to the sink.
‘No, you did the cooking so I’ll do the washing-up. It’s only fair.’ Mark got up as well and gently but firmly pressed her back into her seat. Laura shivered as she felt the pressure of his fingers against her flesh. Suddenly she was back to square one. Obviously, it was one thing to decide to let fate dictate what happened and another to carry it through!
She scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over her stool in her haste. They had eaten at the breakfast bar, a neat little contraption which pulled out from the wall and provided seating facilities in the tiny kitchen. However, with two of them standing, one of them being exceptionally large, the room seemed to shrink even more.
She bit her lip as she tried to edge past Mark to plug in the kettle. ‘Excuse me,’ she muttered, turning bright pink as she felt her breasts rub against the solid wall of his chest. He had discarded his wet shirt in favour of a T-shirt in a washed-out shade of blue which made his eyes look like grey velvet in contrast. It was obvious that the garment was an old favourite because the cloth had that worn-thin softness about it that provided little barrier between their two bodies.
Laura felt the flush on her cheeks deepen as her nipples peaked in response to his nearness. She quickly slid past him, keeping her face averted as she filled the kettle and plugged it in. Mark didn’t say anything as he carried on clearing the table, but there was less comfort in the silence than there might have been.
Had he noticed her response just now? she wondered miserably. And had he been as shocked by it as she was? After all, they were little more than strangers so surely anyone would have been shocked to witness such blatant evidence of her…her arousal!
Her hands shook so hard as she took two cups out of the cupboard that one of them slipped through her fingers and shattered as it hit the tiled floor. Laura gasped in dismay, her eyes filling with tears as she saw what she’d done.
‘I’m sorry! I don’t know how that happened. Oh, I don’t know what to say…’ She knelt down to gather up the shards of china, wincing as she inadvertently knelt on a jagged piece.
‘Leave it! It’s only a cup, Laura. It doesn’t matter.’ Mark was beside her in an instant, his face full of concern as he saw the blood welling through her tights.
‘Hell’s teeth, you’ve cut your knee!’ he declared, drawing her upright with a firm hand under her elbow. Pulling over one of the kitchen stools, he urged her to sit down. ‘Sit there while I get the first-aid kit from the bathroom.’
‘There’s no need…’ she began, but he was already hurrying from the room. She rested her head against a cupboard and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by misery and shame. How could she have felt like that just now? How could she have responded that way to any man apart from Ian?
‘Here we go.’
Mark came back with a green plastic box and placed it on the worktop close to where she sat. He opened the lid then turned to her. ‘Can you take those tights off so that I can check there’s nothing in that cut?’
Laura’s face flamed at the thought of undressing in front of him, but before she could assure him that the injury was too minor to require any attention he added smoothly, ‘I’ll just get some water to clean it with while you do that.’
Deliberately, he turned his back on her as he went to the sink and ran water into a basin. It was obvious that he’d sensed her reluctance to comply with his request and was giving her some privacy.
Laura got up and quickly wriggled the ruined hose over her hips then tossed the small bundle into the waste bin. ‘I…I’m ready,’ she said in a quiet little voice, studiously avoiding Mark’s gaze as he looked round.
‘Good.’ He came back with the basin and knelt in front of her. Lifting her foot onto his bent knee, he carefully examined the cut. Laura bit her lip, trying not to think about how it felt to have his cool fingers skating so gently over her warm flesh, but it was impossible not to be aware of the sensations they aroused. Flashes of heat and cold raced under her skin, making her alternately shiver and burn as if with fever. When he looked up it was an effort to feign indifference as she saw the concern in his eyes.
‘It really hurts, doesn’t it? Damn!’
He seemed to blame himself for her injury, which was so unfair that she hastened to reassure him. ‘It isn’t too bad. And it was my own fault for being so clumsy. I’m not usually so careless, Mark. I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter…honestly!’ He shook his head to emphasise the point so that a swathe of light brown hair fell across his forehead. Laura was instantly transported back to that morning when they’d met. In a flash she recalled how he had looked dressed in those shorts and vest, his skin gleaming with health and vitality over those perfectly toned muscles.
Her breath caught so that she had to make a conscious effort to exhale, and missed what he said. Why was she so aware of him? she wondered sickly. Why did he arouse feelings in her which no man apart from Ian had been able to do?
‘Laura?’
He touched her lightly on the hand and she flinched. He’d obviously noticed her abstraction but he made no mention of it as he quietly repeated the question. ‘Are you allergic to adhesive dressings?’
She shook her head so that the red-brown curls danced around her face. ‘I…I don’t think so,’ she muttered, barely able to think straight in her confusion.
‘Hmm, a very professional answer, Nurse Grady.’ His mocking tone was the best antidote in the world and she tried harder to concentrate.
‘Then, no, I’m not allergic to adhesive dressings or anything else, apart from strawberries,’ she declared firmly.
‘Strawberries, eh? I shall have to bear that in mind.’ He took a square of adhesive dressing out of the box and peeled off the backing then pressed it over the wound.
Laura bit her lip, refusing to let the question slip out. Asking why Mark should need to remember her allergy was a definite step in the wrong direction! After all, what difference could it make to him what she could and couldn’t eat?
She curbed that thought, climbing down from the stool as fast as she could after he’d finished. ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, fixing a polite smile to her lips.
‘My pleasure…if that’s really the right way to phrase it in the circumstances.’
His rueful expression made her laugh, and suddenly it was easier to shuffle her thoughts into some sort of logical sequence again. Maybe she was reading too much into the way she’d responded to his nearness just now. It was a well-known fact that certain stimuli produced predictable physical responses. It had been less a question of her reacting to Mark as a person than the natural response of her body.
It was an explanation that made far more sense than any other so that she was able to relax as Mark made coffee and suggested they drink it in the sitting-room. Laura led the way, opting for one of the floor cushions in front of the fireplace rather than the sofa. Mark had lit the fire while she’d been tucking Robbie up in bed, and it gave off a welcoming heat. Although the flat had central heating, the room was so lofty that the air still felt chilly and she held her hands out appreciatively to the blaze.
‘Here you go.’ Mark put one of the cups on the floor beside her then curled his long legs beneath him, Indian fashion, as he sank onto a cushion. He took a tentative sip of his coffee then set the cup aside when he found it was too hot to drink. The glow from the fire lit his face as he bent forward, lending the very masculine lines an unaccustomed softness.
Laura looked away, uncomfortably aware that her heart was beating faster than normal. Suddenly, the explanation for her odd behaviour seemed less than watertight. It was a relief when Mark spoke in a purely practical tone and she could focus on something other than her own whirling thoughts.
‘Right, I suppose we’d better get organised now that we’re fed and watered. You’re due in work at nine, I know, but what time do you need to drop Robbie off at school?’
‘Eight-thirty. But I have to pick up Ben on the way. I offered to take both boys to school, seeing as Claire is collecting them. Much to Robbie’s delight.’
She smiled, finding it easier once she was concentrating on her son. ‘Robbie adores Ben—it’s a real case of hero-worship. Mind you, he’s crazy about Claire and Sean and just about everyone else he regards as a friend!’
‘He’s a very outgoing child from what I’ve seen, which is a real bonus.’ Mark smiled back. ‘It’s thanks to you that he has such confidence, Laura. You’re doing a great job with him.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied, deeply touched. She shrugged, not wanting him to guess how much it had meant to hear him say that. ‘But I can’t take all the credit. Robbie is naturally gregarious, it’s part of his nature.’
‘So many Down’s children are like that, you find. They have this wonderfully accepting attitude towards other people and seem to blossom with the right kind of attention.’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘I take it from what you just said that Robbie goes to the local infants school?’
‘Yes. They’ve been marvellous with him. Ian and I were worried about what would happen with his schooling. We went to see the headmaster and explained the situation to him, and he immediately offered Robbie a place.’ She smiled with real pleasure. ‘Mr Brook, the headmaster, says that the other children are learning a lot by having Robbie in the school.’
‘That’s great! You don’t often get that kind of enlightened thinking, even today. Far too often schools focus on the problems of teaching a handicapped child alongside his peers.’ Mark reached over and squeezed her hand, his delight obvious in the warm smile he gave her.
‘With this kind of support, Robbie is going to have the best start possible in life, isn’t he, Laura?’
‘Except that he no longer has a father.’ The words came out before she could stop them and she saw Mark’s eyes darken with pain.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said contritely. ‘That was incredibly crass of me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Laura.’
His hand briefly tightened around hers before he abruptly stood up. Walking to the window, he pushed back the velvet curtains and stared out into the night. It was obvious from the slump of his shoulders that he was berating himself for the remark, and Laura knew that she had to say something.
‘I know you didn’t, Mark. Please, don’t go blaming yourself when there’s no need,’ she said quietly.
He turned to look at her. ‘Are you sure about that?’ He shrugged when he saw her puzzlement. ‘It’s obvious that you aren’t over your husband’s death yet.’
It was said very flatly and without inflection, yet she felt there was more to the statement than first appeared. However, before she could decide if it was wise to question him further the phone rang.
Mark grimaced as he strode towards the hall. ‘I hope that isn’t what I think it is!’
He came back a few minutes later, shrugging on his coat. ‘It was the hospital. There’s been an accident on the outskirts of town. A minibus ferrying a dozen kids home from a trip to the theatre has skidded and overturned.’
‘How dreadful! Are any of them badly hurt?’ she asked in concern, immediately getting up.
‘Nobody seems to know for sure as the ambulances haven’t got to the scene yet.’ Mark’s tone was grim. ‘God knows what they’re going to find in conditions like these.’
Laura shivered. ‘It’s such a dreadful night. I take it you’re needed?’
‘Yes.’ Mark grimaced. ‘Second night on the run, too. I got dragged out of bed in the early hours of this morning as well. With Simon being away, we’re a bit pushed at present. Still, I managed to snatch an hour’s sleep in the doctors’ lounge, before going out for a run to get rid of the cobwebs, so I can’t complain.’
An hour’s sleep didn’t seem very much, bearing in mind that he’d been on the go all day long as well, Laura thought. She followed him out to the hall, waiting while he collected his keys and mobile phone from the table. He paused before opening the door, his grey eyes concerned all of a sudden.
‘You will be all right here by yourself? I hate to leave you like this in a strange place.…’
‘But you don’t have any choice.’ She smiled, appreciating his consideration when he must have more pressing things on his mind than her and Robbie. ‘We’ll be fine, Mark. Why shouldn’t we be? We have everything we need after all.’
‘Have you?’ There was a strange note in his voice all of a sudden, an intensity to the look he gave her which made a tremor run down her spine. Laura stared back at him, her greeny-blue eyes the colour of a stormy sea.
He gave her a gentle smile before he suddenly bent and brushed her cheek with a kiss. ‘Don’t wait up,’ he said softly, and then he was gone.
‘Take care…’ The words floated after him but she wasn’t sure if he’d heard them as he disappeared at a run down the stairs. Laura closed the door then made her way to the sitting-room window in time to watch him driving away. The snow was still falling, a thick curtain of white that veiled the countryside and made it look strangely unfamiliar. Maybe that was why she felt disorientated all of a sudden, as though she’d stepped out her own safe little world into another.
She let the curtain fall into place, shivering as she went back to the fire. The flames were blazing up the chimney and sending out a comforting heat, but she couldn’t seem to get warm. She didn’t want her world to change in any way! She had Robbie and her memories and now a job that she knew she was going to love. She should be content…No, she was content!
Laura turned away from the fire in sudden impatience and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the mantelpiece. For a moment she didn’t recognise herself. Was that wild-eyed stranger really her?
She closed her eyes then immediately knew that had been a mistake as an image began to form in her mind’s eye. Giving a murmur of dismay, she struggled to erase it, but it refused to go. Suddenly, she could see in perfect detail the expression on Mark’s face as he’d bent to kiss her just now.…
She opened her eyes abruptly, refusing to let her mind go any further. Switching off the lights, she made her way to the bedroom. Robbie was fast asleep, his small form no more than a bump in the huge bed. Laura stared down at him, letting all the love she felt for this very special child fill each and every corner of her heart. So long as she had that to fill the emptiness then she had more than enough. Mark had been wrong. There was nothing she needed—or wanted—to make her life complete!
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_394312aa-486a-50dc-a65b-9712e412c97b)
THE sound of the phone ringing woke Laura the next morning. She glanced at her watch as she scrambled out of bed and was surprised to discover that it had gone seven. She hadn’t expected to sleep so well in a strange bed but she’d dropped off the moment her head had touched the pillow.
She hurried into the hall, shivering as she picked up the receiver. Although the central heating was switched on, there was a chilly draft flowing around her bare legs.
