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He knew the answer to that. ‘A woman who’s waiting for the right person.’
‘There’s no guarantee that Mr Right will ever come along.’
Or Ms Right. She had a point.
And right now she was clearly embarrassed by the situation, because her fair skin was flushed.
‘I’m not judging you,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Ella, you’re lovely.’
The ‘but’ was a mile high in flashing neon letters, and she obviously saw that straight away. ‘But you don’t do relationships,’ she said. ‘I know.’
‘I’m sorry. I should go.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘But at the same time I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave it messy like this.’
‘I’m not expecting anything from you, Oliver.’
But he’d seen the flicker of disappointment in her eyes before she’d managed to hide it. She’d just given him her virginity. To simply walk away from her immediately after that would make him feel like a real lowlife.
Plus he didn’t actually want to go. Having Ella in his arms felt so right.
‘Can I stay for a bit and just—well, hold you?’ he asked.
‘Why?’
One answer slammed into his head, but he wasn’t ready to consider that. He took a deep breath. ‘Because I feel horrible. I can’t just get up and leave you. I just took your virginity, Ella.’
‘That isn’t an issue.’
He rather thought it was. ‘I feel bad about it.’
‘Don’t. It was my choice.’ She paused. ‘But you don’t want a relationship with me.’
Trust Ella to hit the nail on the head instead of avoiding the issue. His no-nonsense colleague was back. ‘It’s not you. It’s anyone.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’ve got an interview for the Assistant Head of Obstetrics job next week. If I get the post, then all my attention’s going to be on my new job. It’s the wrong time for me to get involved with anyone.’
‘And I’m not your type anyway.’
Actually, she was exactly his type, warm and sweet and lovely; though his family wouldn’t agree with him. His brother would be fine, but his parents would see her as the girl from a very different background—an unsuitable background. Not that anyone at work knew about his family. He’d been careful to keep his background very quiet. The fact that his father had a title had absolutely nothing to do with Oliver’s ability to do his job, and he wanted people to judge him for himself, not for whose son he was.
He took her hand. ‘Ella. I like you a lot. I respect you. And I’ve been attracted to you ever since the first time I met you. What happened tonight…I think it’s been a long time coming.’
‘It has.’
So she felt that weird, almost elemental pull, too?
‘But we’re not going to repeat it.’
He couldn’t tell a thing from her expression or from the tone of her voice. Everything was neutral. ‘It’s not you, Ella. It’s me.’ The last thing he wanted was for her to take the blame. He knew the whole thing was his fault. He should’ve kept himself under his usual control.
‘As far as everyone else is concerned, you gave me a lift home from the ball—as your colleague—and you stayed for a cup of coffee,’ she said. ‘And that’s it.’
‘Thank you.’ She really was letting him off the hook—and it was a lot more than he deserved.
‘If you, um, need the bathroom, it’s next door. The towels are clean. Help yourself to anything you need.’
‘Thanks.’ He pulled on his underpants and padded to the bathroom.
When he returned from his shower, with the towel still wrapped round his waist, she’d changed into a pair of pyjamas. Totally unsexy striped flannel pyjamas that buttoned right up to the neck.
And how bad was it that he wanted to unbutton them and slide the material off her skin again? To kiss every centimetre of skin he uncovered and lose himself in her warmth?
Then again, those pyjamas were also a statement. She was dressed—and he was wearing only her bath towel. ‘Do you want me to go?’ he asked.
‘I think it would be best,’ she said.
He knew she was right, and that leaving would be the sensible thing to do, but he still felt bad. As if he should’ve stayed a bit longer, and at least held her until she fell asleep. Going now felt as if he was deserting her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘I’m not.’ She lifted her chin. ‘We did nothing to be ashamed of.’
He had. He’d taken her virginity without a second thought. But if he pressed the issue, he had a feeling she’d take it the wrong way and think he was ashamed about sleeping with her—that she was the problem, not him. Which wasn’t true.
‘Uh-huh,’ he said awkwardly. Normally he was good with words, but tonight that ability had completely deserted him. ‘Ella—we’ve worked together well for eighteen months. I don’t want that to change.’
‘It won’t. Nobody at the hospital needs to know anything about what just happened.’
She didn’t meet his eye, he noticed. So that comment about not being ashamed had obviously been sheer bravado.
‘I’m not a good bet when it comes to relationships, Ella,’ he said softly. Though he didn’t want to tell her why. How stupid was he not to have realised that Justine had been seeing someone else, and that he was her golden ticket to the good life for her and the baby that wasn’t his? He knew that Ella wasn’t a gold-digger, the way Justine had been; but he still couldn’t face taking a risk with a relationship again. Making another mistake. Having his heart trampled on again. So it was better to stay exactly as he was, where everyone knew the score and that all his relationships were just for fun.
Not a good bet when it comes to relationships.
Neither am I, Ella thought ruefully.
What did she have to offer anyone? Thanks to the endometriosis that had dogged her for years and caused the ovarian cyst to grow and rupture, Ella couldn’t have children. It was one of the reasons why she’d avoided relationships; what was the point of starting anything when you knew you were taking someone’s future choices away? Who would want a wife who couldn’t give him a family? She’d seen first-hand from her own best friend’s experience how the pressure of infertility could cause even the strongest marriage to crack.
So she knew she was better off as she was. She’d come to terms with the situation over the last few years; now she had the chance to concentrate on her job and prove that she was better than her grades at university suggested—that she was worthy of her job. And her job would be enough for her.
‘I don’t want a relationship with you, Oliver,’ she said. It wasn’t strictly true, but she wasn’t stupid enough to long for something she knew she couldn’t have. ‘Except a working one.’
The relief in his expression was so dazzling, it almost blinded her.
Well, she could be just as bright and chirpy. She wasn’t going to let him see how much his relief had hurt her. ‘Shall I make you a cup of tea while you’re getting dressed?’
‘No, it’s fine, thank you. I’d probably better go.’
‘I’ll, um, let you get changed,’ she said, and headed for the kitchen to give him some space.
The two mugs of instant coffee—never made—sat accusingly in front of the kettle. She tipped the coffee granules in the bin, rinsed out the mugs and made herself a strong cup of tea. Mam’s solution to everything, she thought wryly. Though she had a feeling that it would take an awful lot more than a cup of tea to sort this out.
She’d just have to pretend that tonight had never happened. And hopefully things wouldn’t be awkward between Oliver and her at work.
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