The Doctor Meets Her Match

She’d spent half the night considering that rationally, and the other half beating her head against an imaginary brick wall, which might just as well have been real from the way her head was throbbing this morning. The only thing that Abby was sure of was that she’d messed up somehow and that she had to put it right.

Something had made him act that way. He was perfectly at liberty to walk out on her as a woman and she was at liberty to hate him for it. But if a little of the past had leaked through into her attitude towards Nick last night and made him refuse medical treatment he needed, that was unforgivable. Whatever Michael had said, she had to put it right.

Not giving herself time to change her mind, Abby got out of the car, marched quickly up the front path and pressed the doorbell. No one answered. She was about to turn and walk away when a bump from inside the house told her that Nick hadn’t gone out. She thumbed the doorbell again, this time letting it ring insistently.

‘Okay! Give me a minute…’ The door was flung open and Nick froze.

‘Hello.’ She was expecting to see him this time, but that didn’t seem to lessen the shock all that much.

‘Hi… Abby.’ He had the presence of mind not to say it, but his eyes demanded an answer. What are you doing here?

‘I came to see how you were.’ Her hands were shaking but her lips were smiling. Not too much. Professional.

‘You didn’t need to. I’m fine. Thanks.’ Nick was leaning on the crutches she’d given him, his loose sweatpants stretched over the bulky brace. That was something. At least he hadn’t taken it off and thrown it away as soon as he’d got home.

‘I think we have a little unfinished business, Nick.’

He pressed his lips together. ‘I know. I should have called you, it was unforgivable…’

‘Not that.’ Abby had spent some time convincing herself that the events of six months ago were all water under the bridge, and she wasn’t going to let Nick bring it up now. ‘I mean from last night. You left before I had a chance to finish…’ She stopped, flushing. Her voice sounded like a pathetic, childish whine, as if she was begging for his attention.

Understanding flickered in his eyes. His warmth curled around her senses and just as Abby’s knees began to liquefy her defences clicked in. This man was not going to see her vulnerable. Not again.

‘I left because I was done. It was nothing to do with you.’

Abby straightened herself. ‘What was it to do with?’

‘It’s none of your business, Abby…’ He seemed to be about to say more but stopped himself. ‘Look, as I said, it’s really good of you to come here and I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. But you’ll have to excuse me.’

She wasn’t giving up without a fight. The door was closing, and there were only two things that Abby could think of to do. She wasn’t quite angry enough to punch him—not yet, anyway—so she stuck her foot in the doorway, bracing herself for the blow of the door as he tried to close it.

It didn’t come. There was nothing wrong with Nick’s reflexes and he whipped the door back open before it hit her foot. ‘Abby…’ His gaze met hers, dark and full of pain, and concern for him grated across her nerve endings. There was no point in that. Nick wasn’t the type to accept sympathy. She faced him down, and saw a flare of what might have been tenderness.

Wordlessly he stepped back from the doorway, turned, and made his way back along the hall, leaving the door open behind him. It wasn’t the most cordial of invitations she’d ever received but Abby followed him, closing the door behind her.

‘Can I get you some coffee?’ He had led her through to the kitchen, a large, bright room where the house had been extended at the back. Indicating that she should sit down at the sturdy wooden table, he swung across to the counter and reached up into a cupboard for a tin of coffee beans.

‘Thanks.’ Abby sat down. Making coffee and drinking it would take at least ten minutes. She could use that time.

‘Toast?’ The room smelled of fresh bread and there was a loaf, just out of the breadmaker, on the countertop.

‘Thanks. I didn’t have breakfast this morning.’ Fifteen minutes. Even better. Time enough to sort this out and then get out of there.

Nick didn’t turn to face her and Abby sat down. Without a word, he ground the coffee beans and switched the coffee machine on, then shifted awkwardly across to cut the bread, leaning one of his crutches against the sink.

‘Here, let me help you.’

‘I can manage.’

She dropped back down into her chair. He seemed to be managing not to look at her as well. It occurred to Abby that the offer of coffee hadn’t been intended as hospitality as much as an excuse not to sit down and talk to her.

Finally he was done. He’d made tea for himself, and Abby jumped up to ferry the cups and plates to the table, while Nick lowered himself into a chair.

‘We don’t need to argue about this.’ He gave her a persuasive grin. ‘We could just agree to differ and enjoy our breakfast.’

Nick’s charm didn’t work on her any more. Much. ‘Or we could talk about why I think it’s important that you take the medication you’ve been offered. I’m here to help you. As a friend, Nick.’ ‘Friends’ was dangerous territory. But being his doctor was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, and that was the only other excuse she had to be there.

His lips twitched. ‘And you think that I’m not helping myself?’

‘From where I’m sitting, that’s how it looks.’ Abby took a sip of her coffee.

‘I guess it might.’ The words were almost a challenge.

‘It does, Nick. Pain control isn’t just about making things easier for you. With an injury like this, it’s important that you give your body a chance to heal. That means being able to sleep and move around gently. You need to get some of that swelling around your knee down as well.’

‘I’ve been putting ice packs on it. The swelling’s down from yesterday.’

‘That’s better than nothing. How much sleep did you get last night?’

Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The dark hollows beneath his eyes and the stiffness of his movements attested to how little he’d slept and how much he was hurting right now. Abby could strike the suspicion of him having decided to self-medicate from the list of possibilities.

‘Did you take analgesics the last time you hurt your knee?’ Abby could have looked that up on the hospital’s computer system after he’d left, but she’d baulked at that.

He nodded. Another couple of options to strike off the list. Whatever his reason was, it must be something that had happened in the four years, since his last injury. ‘Are you saying you had an adverse reaction to one of the drugs?’

‘No. I’m saying that I don’t want the drugs now.’

‘Nick, if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is, that’s fine. But you wouldn’t let me do my best for you last night, and I can tell you now that’s not the way that I work and it’s not the way the doctor I’ve referred you to works either.’ Abby could feel the colour rising in her cheeks, and checked herself.

Something bloomed in his eyes, which looked suspiciously like respect, and Abby ignored the answering quiver in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t need Nick’s respect, she just needed him to see the logic of what she was trying to tell him.

‘Since you put it that way…’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment and then jerked his head up to face her, his stare daring her to look away. ‘I’m a drug addict.’

His message was clear. Get back. Stay back. Nick knew that Abby was not stupid. She had to understand it and the only other explanation was that she was planning on ignoring it.

‘Okay. What kind of drugs?’ She was doing a fairly good job of staring him down. There was barely a flicker at the corner of her eye.

‘Painkillers. The kind that were prescribed for me. And others that weren’t.’

‘But you’re clean now.’

‘What makes you think that?’ He’d never be truly clean.

‘If you were still taking opiate drugs, for whatever purpose, maybe you would have slept a little better last night.’

‘Yeah. Fair enough.’ It would take more than just staying off the drugs to make him whole, but Nick was done with admitting things. That was all she needed to know. He reached for his keys, which were sitting at the far end of the table where he’d dumped them last night, and showed her the small engraved disc that served as a key fob.

She leaned forward to focus on the letters, alongside a logo with a set of initials. ‘IK. What’s that?’

‘Stands for one thousand days. In that time I haven’t had as much as an aspirin or a cup of coffee.’ Her gaze flicked involuntarily towards the cup of herbal tea in front of him, and Nick wondered how much of this she had already worked out for herself. ‘I earned this six months ago, and I’m not giving it up for anything.’

‘Your support group asks that you give up everything? Aspirin, coffee…?’

‘No. That’s what I require of myself.’

She sucked in a deep breath, seeming to relax slightly as she exhaled. ‘I’d like to help, Nick. If you’ll let me.’

She’d disarmed him completely. Maybe it was the way that sunlight from the window became entangled in her hair and couldn’t break free. Maybe her steady, blue gaze, which held the promise of both cornflowers and steel. ‘What do you suggest?’

Nick was expecting one, maybe two platitudes about not overstepping the mark again and a lecture on how effective ice-packs could be. Then she could do the sensible thing and wash her hands of him.

Instead, she drew a pad from her handbag, turned to a page of scribbled notes, asked questions and made some more notes. Then she produced a bundle of printed pages from the internet, selecting some for him to look at, which left Nick in little doubt that she had come prepared for almost every eventuality, including the one which he had just admitted to. He hadn’t thought that Abby was such a force to be reckoned with.

‘What do you think, then?’

Nick had no idea what he thought. He’d heard everything she’d said, but the bulk of his attention had been concentrated on the soft curl of her eyelashes. On trying to resist the impulse to reach out and touch the few golden strands of hair that strayed across her cheek, aware that he could so easily become trapped. ‘Sounds logical.’

She rolled her eyes, twisting her head to one side in a shimmer of liquid light, and he almost choked on his tea. ‘It’s obviously logical. But how do you feel about it?’

‘Okay, then.’ There wasn’t much option other than the truth, not with Abby. ‘I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.’

‘Fair enough, but can you do it?’

‘Stick pins in my eyes? I’d rather not.’

She gifted him with a glare that made his stomach tighten. ‘Stop messing around, Nick. Will you do this?’ She tapped the list she’d made with her pen.

A visit to a pain clinic, specialising in drug-free therapies, which Abby had assured him was among the best in its field. Taking the clinic’s advice on nonopiate painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs. Coming clean with the orthopaedic surgeon that Abby had already arranged for Nick to see at the hospital, and having him work with the clinic to provide what she termed as ‘joined-up’ care.

‘I can do it.’ This would be harder than dealing with the constant, throbbing pain in his knee but Nick saw the sense in it. It was his best chance of being able to get back on his feet again any time soon.

‘So I’ll call the pain clinic and try to get you an emergency appointment for this afternoon.’

‘I’m not a child. I can make a phone call.’ The thought that maybe she didn’t trust him hurt more than it should have. What reason had he ever given her to trust him?

‘I know. But this is supposed to be the exact opposite of what you did before. You take help. You don’t self-medicate. You follow an agreed plan and you keep everyone informed and in touch with what’s happening.’

She grinned persuasively at him. He’d missed her smile. ‘If something was on fire, I’d be letting you take charge.’

‘I have a box of matches in the drawer over there…’ He held his hands up as she shot him a look of such ferocity that laughter bubbled up in his chest. Abby had surprised him. Under those soft curves of hers there was a backbone of pure steel. ‘Okay. You win, it’s a deal.’

‘Yes… yes, a deal.’ She was suddenly uncertain, lacing her fingers around her empty coffee cup. It seemed that she too needed something to occupy her when they were together. Something to take her mind off the heat that seemed to build when there was nothing practical to focus on.

‘Would you like some more toast? That slice must be cold by now.’

‘No. No, thanks.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Sorry to have spoiled your morning.’

‘You didn’t.’ He tried to catch her eye but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze now. ‘I treated you pretty badly, Abby. What you did this morning says everything about you and nothing about what I deserve.’

She seemed puzzled, but the comment emboldened her. ‘I’d like you to do something else, too.’

‘Go on, then. What is it?’

‘I want you to call me in a couple of days, just to let me know how things are going. Will you do that?’

‘Of course.’ It was the least he could do. ‘Or I could buy you lunch.’ The words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them. But it didn’t really matter. They’d be wearing snowboots in hell before she accepted. Doctors might forgive, but women didn’t give you the option of standing them up a second time.

She hesitated, avoiding his gaze. ‘Call me on Tuesday morning. I take my lunch at one o’clock, and if I’m free maybe we can meet up.’ She picked her phone up, briskly. ‘I’ll make that call, then.’

CHAPTER THREE

HE’D hurt her once, and she hadn’t had any say in the matter then. If he hurt her again, it was going to be her own stupid fault. But this time Abby knew the score. She wasn’t at his beck and call and she wouldn’t be shedding any tears over him if he decided suddenly to disappear again.

It was ten minutes’ walk from the hospital to the gym they both belonged to. Abby had been taking her early-morning swims at another pool for the last six months, ever since the possibility of bumping into Nick had turned from delicious excitement to self-conscious dread. But since she hadn’t let her membership lapse, for fear that might be construed as running away, she could always go for a swim if he didn’t turn up.

The screens and plants in the cafeteria had been designed to break up the area and give a little privacy for each table. Abby scanned the space. All of a sudden she didn’t want to have to walk around and then be subjected to the ignominy of sitting down alone if he wasn’t there.

‘Hey, there.’ His voice cut through her thoughts, like a hot knife through butter. ‘Thanks for coming.’

She had been feeling shaky all morning, agitated at the thought of seeing Nick again, and now she was concentrating so hard on not being nervous that she’d walked straight past him. He was perched on one of the stools at the juice bar, one leg propped up on the stainless-steel rail that ran around it at low level, the other foot planted firmly on the floor.

‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ She pulled herself up onto a stool, crossing her legs so her feet didn’t dangle like a child’s and putting her handbag on the empty seat she had left between Nick and herself. ‘What have you got there?’

‘Raspberry and apple. It’s nice, want to try it?’ He tilted his glass towards her.

‘No, thanks. I’ll have the strawberry and banana shake. And one of those toasted sandwiches, I think.’ She signalled to the waitress behind the bar and gave her order, looking in her handbag for her purse. Too late. Nick had already passed a note across the bar and the waitress had taken it.

‘Thanks.’ Arguing with him over who was going to pay made his gesture seem more important than it was. Better to leave it. ‘So how are you?’

‘I’m good. I’ve got my appointment through.’

‘Good. Dr Patel’s a nice guy, and the best orthopaedic surgeon in the department. You’ll be fine with him.’ Jay would take care of Nick better than Abby could. Better than she had any right to.

‘Thanks.’ He took his change and pocketed it then felt inside his casual jacket, pulling out two foil packets and proffering them. ‘And I’ve been keeping my side of the bargain.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll take your word for it.’ She smiled at him. ‘Anyway, you could have just taken the tablets out and thrown them in the bin.’

He seemed to be considering the possibility. ‘I could have. Only I would have flushed them down the sink. Always dispose of medicines safely.’

He was teasing her now and Abby felt the coiled spring that had lodged in her stomach begin to loosen slightly. The feeling wasn’t altogether agreeable. ‘Well, as long as you’re doing something to get the swelling down.’

He nodded. ‘The ice packs are helping and the people at the pain clinic gave me some good tips. I can’t put any weight on the leg still, but I can get around well enough. I might try going for a swim this afternoon.’

Unwelcome images flooded Abby’s brain. Nick in the pool, water streaming across his back as he swam. Pulling himself out, the muscles of his shoulders flexing. She concentrated on his knee. ‘That’s not a very good idea, Nick.’

‘Swimming’s good exercise. The water will support my leg.’

‘Dr Patel will give you some exercises and he’ll be able to discuss exactly what you should and shouldn’t be doing. Why don’t you leave it until you see him?’ She could feel her irritation level rising again. What was so important about going swimming today?

‘I can’t.’ He dismissed her with just two words and something snapped in that part of her brain that had been filtering the anger out of her responses to him.

‘Yes, you can. You just won’t.’ Abby jumped as a plate and glass clattered down next to her, and turned to thank the waitress, who gave her a curt nod, obviously disapproving of the sound of discord at the bar. ‘Let’s go and sit at one of the tables. Look, there’s one free over there by the window.’

‘Perfect for bullying me in private.’ Nick grinned.

‘I do not bully people.’ If he only knew, he wouldn’t say such a thing. She slid down from her stool, balanced her plate and glass in one hand, grabbed her handbag with the other and walked over to the empty table. He could follow if he liked.

As she tried to manoeuvre her way into a seat, her hands full, she saw Nick’s arm reach around her, pulling the chair back so she could sink down into it. Lowering himself into the chair opposite, he smiled up at the waitress as she placed his drink in front of him. ‘Thanks. That’s kind of you.’

The waitress nodded and shot Abby a disapproving look. As well she might. Nick was handsome, charming and, oh, so obviously in need of a little looking after at the moment. Someone to carry his drink while he dealt with his crutches. Someone to plump his pillows and stare into his molten chocolate eyes.

‘If I sound as if I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, Abby, that’s not the case.’ Nick had smiled and thanked the waitress, but now his attention was all on Abby.

‘But you’re just used to having things your own way.’

He grinned. ‘Maybe. But I value your input.’

He made it sound as if she’d made a few suggestions, which he’d decided whether to go along with or not. Abby guessed that was about right. ‘So, are you up for another piece of input?’

‘Go on.’

She ignored both the smile and the dimple. Particularly the dimple. ‘I think you’re just falling into the same way of doing things as before. Deciding what you’re going to do and then just going and doing it. I think you should wait until you can speak to your doctor and get his advice.’

‘What do you think Dr Patel is going to say, then?’

‘I don’t second-guess colleagues. Just ask him.’

‘I do have a compelling reason to get back into the water.’

Abby gave in. ‘All right, so what’s your compelling reason? Other than the desire to prove to yourself that you’re indestructible or die trying?’

The brief tilt of his head to one side told her that she’d hit on a home truth. ‘A group of us from the fire station is doing an open-water swim in five weeks’ time, up in the Lake District. Actually, six of them on consecutive days. I need to be fit for that.’

The audacity of the statement made Abby choke on her drink. ‘Six consecutive days? How long are these swims?’

‘Between two and six miles each.’

‘What? Are you completely mad, Nick? I’m all for encouraging people to exercise gently, but that’s gruelling enough for anyone who’s fit. It’s complete and utter madness with that knee.’

He shrugged. ‘I have to try. I’ll see what Dr Patel says, but perhaps I can strap the leg up so that it’s supported in the water.’

‘No. He’s going to tell you exactly what I am. You’re overdoing it, and asking for trouble.’ Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘I thought you didn’t second-guess colleagues.’ His gaze was making her skin prickle.

‘I don’t, but I’m perfectly capable of seeing the obvious. What’s so important about these swims anyway? Can’t you postpone them or something? I know it’s late in the year, but next spring would be much more sensible.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s a big charity event. There are a dozen of us swimming and we have sponsorship.’

‘Well, you’ll just have to drop out, then.’

He gave her an amused look. ‘Are you telling me what to do?’

‘I’m telling you that in my considered opinion, and I do know something about this, you’ll do yourself a great deal of damage if you push yourself too hard. You’ll fail with the swims and you might well put yourself into a position where you’ll never get fit again. Do you want that?’

He shook his head slowly, his gaze dropping to the tabletop. ‘No. But I feel I have to try. I won’t push it.’

Yeah, right. Since when did Nick start anything that he didn’t finish? Abby swallowed the obvious answer. Their relationship was clearly an exception to that rule. ‘How much sponsorship do you have?’

‘It’s a hundred grand in total. I’m the only one doing all six swims and so a lot of the corporate sponsorship that we’ve raised depends on me. If I don’t swim, we lose thirty of that.’ His brow furrowed in thought. ‘Maybe the sponsors will allow me to do the swims over twelve days instead of six. A day’s rest in between.’

‘Oh, right, that’ll be okay, then. You can spend twelve days on wrecking your knee instead of six.’ Concern lent a biting edge to Abby’s sarcasm. She buried her face in her hands so he couldn’t see her confusion. She wasn’t usually this aggressive with people, but Nick was pushing all the wrong buttons with her.

His voice cut through her thoughts and she lifted her head wearily. ‘It’s a good cause, Abby. Maybe, when Dr Patel gives my leg the once-over, it will have improved—it already feels a lot better. I don’t know right now, but surely anything is worth trying?’

The look in his eyes said it all. He knew just as well as she did that this was madness but he’d made a commitment and it was killing him not to carry it through. So he was clutching at straws. Abby sighed. ‘What’s the charity?’

‘We’re doing it in conjunction with Answers Through Sport.’

‘I’ve heard of them. I learned to swim in one of their classes when I was a kid.’

‘Really?’ He was on the alert suddenly and Abby bit her lip. ‘I didn’t think they did general classes.’

They didn’t. Abby had been a beneficiary of their Fighting Back programme for bullied teenagers. But that was none of Nick’s business. ‘So how did you get involved with them?’

‘They helped me when I was recovering from my addiction to drugs.’ He shrugged. ‘Now I’m returning the favour and doing some fundraising for them. They have match funding, so they’ll get a grant for an amount equal to that which they raise for themselves.’