The Firebrand Who Unlocked His Heart

Colleen let out a whoosh of air and sat back in her seat. ‘You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?’

‘I’ve had to. For Harry’s sake, I will do whatever it takes to make him better.’ Daniel swallowed and for a second the mask slipped again and she saw such naked pain in his eyes that she sucked in a breath.

‘My son needs me,’ Daniel continued. ‘And I need you. Help me get my son back. Don’t think of doing it for me, if that makes it easier. Think of doing it for him.’ For a few seconds silence hung between them. ‘Please.’

Colleen studied him for a moment. She had the impression that this man wasn’t used to pleading. His insistent green eyes and his obvious distress about his son drew her in, making her want to help him, but still she hesitated. He was asking a great deal and she didn’t know enough about Harry to know whether she was the right person for the job.

Daniel pulled another photograph from his pocket. ‘This was taken three weeks ago.’

Colleen took the second photograph from him. Harry was lying in a hospital bed. Despite the tube running from his nostril he still looked beautiful with his silver-blond hair and smooth pale skin. Her stomach twisted at the blankness in his green eyes.

Her mind spiralled back to those early days when Cahil had been injured. He, too, had lain in a hospital bed, looking up at them with unseeing eyes. The doctors hadn’t held out much hope. But Mammy had refused to give up on her child. She had insisted on taking Cahil home and as a family they had worked around the clock to coax him back to health. It had taken months to get him to feed himself and even longer before he was walking and talking again, but now, as Daniel pointed out, he was recovered enough to play for the school football team.

Daniel must have seen her hesitation. ‘At least say you’ll meet him,’ he pressed. ‘Come to London with me. If, after you’ve met him, you still feel you can’t take up my offer, I promise you, there will be no hard feelings. Your unit will get its donation irrespective of what you decide.’

Before she had a chance to answer, Daniel’s mobile rang. He looked at it and frowned. ‘I’m sorry, but I really have to take this.’ He stood up and headed for the door. ‘I’ll just be a few minutes.’

As soon as he’d stepped outside, Trish scurried over to the table and sat down opposite Colleen.

‘Who the hell is that gorgeous hunk of flesh? Why haven’t you told me about him? God, Col, I didn’t know you had it in you!’

Colleen’s head was still full of images of Cahil and Harry. She shook her head to clear it and looked outside to where Daniel was talking on his phone.

‘What? Oh, that’s Daniel Frobisher. He wants me to go to London to be his son’s private nurse.’

Trish looked disappointed. ‘I thought he was your new lover.’

Colleen knew she shouldn’t really be shocked. Trish always said the first thing that came into her head. She glared at her best friend.

‘Have you forgotten I’m engaged?’ she said, indignant.

Trish let out a whoosh of air. ‘And have you forgotten about the doubts you’ve been having? That in itself is a good reason to go to London. It will give you space to make up your mind about how you really feel about Ciaran.’

Perhaps Trish was right. Ever since she and Ciaran had become engaged, Colleen had been feeling unsure. She should be on top of the world, instead of feeling as if she was being dragged towards a deep hole.

‘It’s only pre-wedding jitters,’ Colleen said, more emphatically than she felt. ‘I do love Ciaran, of course I do. I feel comfortable with him. Isn’t that what marriage is about? Mutual respect, shared interests …?’ She glanced towards where Daniel was standing, still talking into the phone. She couldn’t imagine anyone feeling comfortable with him. He was too intense, too restless, too … Just too much of everything!

‘Heavens to glory, girl!’ Trish said. ‘Feeling comfortable with someone is not a basis for marriage. If you want comfort, why don’t you buy yourself a pair of slippers? Oops, I forgot. You do have slippers. Those crazy things that look like you’re wearing two dead lambs on your feet. Where’s the excitement with you and Ciaran? The glamour? The passion? The can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other kind? Where’s the drinking champagne at lunch time?’

‘I don’t like champagne,’ Colleen said with another nervous glance outside. If Daniel came back inside, he’d hear everything Trish had to say. Her friend was in full flow and Colleen knew she wouldn’t stop until she’d had her say. ‘I prefer tea, as you well know.’

‘See! That’s exactly what I mean. You don’t have to like champagne to drink it. Most people drink it because they like the bubbles and because it makes them act all silly.’

‘I don’t like acting silly.’

Trish’s expression grew serious. ‘No, you don’t. You used to, though. Now you never let your hair down. Life is supposed to be fun, Col. Look, I’m not saying Ciaran isn’t a nice guy, but nice is the operative word. You need someone to pull you back out of that safe, cosy, insular world you choose to live in these days. How old are you, Col? Twenty-six? And have you travelled, made wild, passionate love on a beach, bought a pair of shoes you couldn’t afford because they made you feel a million dollars? No, you wear bunny slippers and dress like a farmer’s daughter most of the time and your idea of a big night out is a trip to the local pub to play pool with Ciaran and your brothers. Not exactly the romance of the century, is it?’

Colleen squirmed in her chair. God, Trish made her and Ciaran sound so boring. It was too much, even from Trish!

‘But I am a farmer’s daughter. Anyway Ciaran likes me the way I am.’

‘You’re a beautiful woman, Col; anyone would give their eye teeth to look like you—which is stunning, God help the rest of us—whatever you chose to wear. But when was the last time Ciaran looked at you? I mean, really looked at you?’

Instead of Ciaran’s face, an image of dark green eyes, drilling into hers, flashed into her head. She glanced outside. It was clear Daniel was coming to the end of his call. She had to shut Trish up before he came back inside.

‘I wouldn’t dream of making love on the beach,’ she hissed. ‘Sand would get everywhere and someone might see. But of course, if I wanted to, I could do that with Ciaran. We might yet.’

The door swished open and Daniel was walking towards them. Trish stood up and bent over Colleen.

‘The question is, do you want to?’ she whispered.

Colleen was feeling decidedly unsettled when Daniel sat down in the chair Trish had just vacated. Unwelcome though Trish’s word were, they only echoed what Colleen had been thinking these last few months. Perhaps Trish was right and Daniel’s offer was just what she needed? Time, on her own, to think.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I didn’t expect the call to take so long.’ He smiled at her and unaccountably her heart thumped against her ribs. ‘Have you had time to come to a decision?’

Damn! Why did the way he looked at her make her feel as if they were the only two people in the room?

Daniel’s green eyes brought back the image of Harry lying on the hospital bed. Colleen’s heart twisted. She knew she couldn’t walk away, not without meeting Harry at the very least. Ciaran always said she was a soft touch.

‘I’ll come to London and meet your son,’ she said, finally. ‘I’ll make my decision then. However, if, for any reason, I don’t think I’m the best person to care for your son, either because he doesn’t react well to me, or because I think he’ll be better off in a rehab unit, then I won’t take the job. Is that understood?’

There was no mistaking the relief on Daniel’s face. ‘In that case,’ he said, signalling for the bill, ‘shall we get going?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘GET going? What now? Right this minute?’

‘No time like the present. I need to know whether you’re going to take the job. You’re off duty for the weekend, aren’t you?’

Was there anything he didn’t know about her life?

Daniel was flicking through his wallet, otherwise he would have noticed that Colleen’s jaw had dropped. She closed it quickly.

‘I can’t go right now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I need to pack, make a couple of calls, have a sleep.’ She couldn’t just go to London at the drop of a hat. Trips needed careful planning. ‘Besides don’t you need to make plane reservations?’

Daniel dropped a twenty-pound note on the table and, without waiting for his change, took Colleen’s elbow and steered her towards the door. This elbow-steering thing he had was beginning to get out of hand. She cast a desperate glance at Trish who grinned and held two thumbs up. So no help there then.

‘I have a plane. It’s waiting for us at the airport. I’ll take you home and you can pick up anything you might need. You can sleep on the plane.’

‘But..’ Her voice come out as a squeak.

Daniel held the door open and ushered her out. He stopped and stared down at her with his mesmerising eyes. ‘Look, you agreed to meet Harry. The hospital wants to discharge him on Monday, Tuesday at the latest. If I don’t take him home, they’ll transfer him to the nearest rehab unit and I’m not having that.’ He smiled tightly. ‘I promise you, I’ll have you back home tomorrow at the latest.’

He opened the car door and once again she was bundled inside. But there was no reason she could think of, apart from the ones she had raised and he’d swept aside, not to go with him. Ciaran was going to Wales with her brothers for the weekend to watch some rugby match. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask her whether she wanted to go, too. Not that she did, but it would have been nice to be asked. Come to think of it, when had she and Ciaran last done something on their own? Something on the spur of the moment, something romantic? Once more, she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

‘Okay, I’ll come, but I have to go home and collect some stuff first.’ At least Trish couldn’t accuse her of not being spontaneous this time. Truth was, it felt good. Exciting. She would text Ciaran and let him know she was going to London. Maybe that would rock him out of his complacency.

‘Good girl,’ Daniel said. ‘Where to?’

Good girl! What was she—a puppy?

Colleen gave him the address and, as the car moved away, she sent Ciaran and her mother a quick text telling them she was going to London and would call them later. Colleen usually went home for her days off, even when Ciaran wasn’t there, but wasn’t Mammy always telling her that she should stay in Dublin and enjoy herself with her friends sometimes? Why was everyone so determined to tell her to enjoy herself? It wasn’t as if she went around with a face like a camel’s behind all the time. Sheesh!

When the car pulled up outside her flat, Colleen jumped out and ran up the step, telling Daniel she’d be half an hour. To her consternation, when she stopped to open the communal door with her key, she realised that Daniel was standing behind her. The faint scent of expensive aftershave drifted up her nose and she could almost feel the energy vibrating from his body.

For some reason her hand was shaking and she struggled to get the key to work. Daniel leaned over her shoulder. ‘Let me,’ he said. The touch of his hand on hers sent that electric shock up her arm and she dropped her hand, letting him take charge of the key. Now she was enclosed by the circle of his arms and she had to concentrate hard to stop her breath coming out in gasps. Anyone would think she’d never been close to a man in her life.

‘I thought we agreed you would stay in the car,’ she said. Annoyingly, despite her efforts, she still sounded breathless.

‘Did we?’ he said, mildly. ‘I don’t remember that.’

Daniel followed her up the three flights of stairs to her flat. This time she managed to open the door first time. She turned to him. She didn’t want him inside her home. She needed some time to compose herself. ‘Thank you. I can cope fine from here.’ She thought she managed the note of sarcasm perfectly.

To her dismay he ignored her and followed her inside her studio apartment. Couldn’t the man take a hint? But she could hardly order him out of her flat without appearing rude, and she was never rude.

Spying a pair of tights lying discarded on the arm of a chair, she hurried across and scooped them up. Then, through the open door of the bathroom, she noticed her panties and a towel on the floor so she hurried over to scoop them up, too, before shoving the whole lot into the washing machine. Her coffee cup from last night and her supper dishes were still in the sink, but she’d been in a rush to get to work after being held up by a fascinating programme on the television on anteaters.

‘Nice place,’ he said drily. He picked up a magazine from the floor. The Bride. His lips twitched. ‘Interesting dress she’s wearing.’

Colleen snatched it from his hands and shoved it on top of the pile she’d still to read. It tottered there for a moment before the whole lot slid to the ground, fanning out on a heap on the floor. Knowing her face was probably beetroot, she took a deep breath. She never, ever got flustered. What the heck had got into her?

Daniel grinned at her and for a second she thought her heart had stopped beating.

‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said and sought the refuge of her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it. Look, she told herself, firmly, he’s only a man in a fancy suit, even if he does have a heartbreaking smile. God, God, God. Where had the last thought come from?

She set about packing her weekend bag, forcing herself to concentrate on remembering everything. Slippers? Check. Clothes, including clean underwear? Check. Toiletries? She’d pick them up from the bathroom on her way out. What else? Did a person need a passport to travel on a private plane?

She poked her head out of the door. Daniel had made himself comfortable on one of her chairs and was flicking through The Bride magazine, an incredulous look on his face.

‘Do I need my passport?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Er … Dublin isn’t part of the UK, if you remember?’

Colleen slammed the door shut. Now he’d think her an idiot too! By the time they got to London, he’d probably have decided to employ someone else. But why should she think that? He was interested in her for her professional skills—not interviewing her as a potential wife!

Once her bag was packed, she looked in the mirror to check her hair. She was pale with dark smudges under her eyes, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sleep was what she needed. In her feverish haste to pack her bags so that she could get Daniel out of her flat her hair had come loose from its braid and wisps were falling into her eyes. She grabbed her hair brush and redid the plait, making sure every last one of her unruly locks was contained. Then she added a slick of lipstick and she was ready. Or as ready as she’d ever be. For once she wished she had listened to Trish on one of their many futile shopping expeditions—at least as far as Trish was concerned—and had bought a dress she could have worn. Something that would give her confidence.

Daniel got to his feet when she came back out of her bedroom with the slow indolence of a lion waking up from a sleep.

‘I just have to get my wash bag and I’m ready,’ she said.

He took her overnight bag from her hand. ‘Let’s go, then.’

Daniel slid a look at Colleen as they were driven towards the airport. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected.

When she’d turned Haversham down he’d been shocked. No one had ever refused to do something for Daniel before. And the salary—one most people would have found it hard to refuse—hadn’t made the slightest difference. Her refusal had made him more determined to secure her services than he’d been before. And he’d been keen then. Especially after the ringing endorsement her old consultant at Guy’s had given her. ‘She’s a tiger,’ he’d said, ‘and she never gives up. Don’t let that innocent face fool you. What Colleen wants, she gets. Nothing and no one stands in the way of Colleen McCulloch when it comes to what is best for her patients. She’s not always conventional, but she’s always right. That’s what makes her special.’

Somehow he’d imagined the redoubtable Nurse McCulloch, whom everyone he’d spoken to had praised to the sky, to look older, to be more severe. Instead she looked like a teenager with her curls escaping from its elastic band and falling in wisps over her face that she constantly and ineffectually tried to tuck back in. He liked the way her mouth turned up at the corners as if in a permanent smile, even the way her eyes flashed when she was annoyed about something. He’d even liked the way her flat looked. Okay, some might say that it looked as if the occupant had been fighting with a pack of wild animals that had found their way into her home, but there was a good feeling about her small flat with its bunches of wild flowers arranged haphazardly in jam jars. It reminded him somehow of his mother’s holiday home in Dorset. The memory made his stomach clench. That cottage had been Eleanor and Harry’s home until the accident. Now his son was lying in a hospital bed, unaware that his mother had died and that all he had left was a father whom he barely knew.

Daniel stole another look at Colleen. He was more determined than ever to have her as Harry’s nurse. He hoped to hell she lived up to her reputation.

CHAPTER THREE

SO THIS was how the other half lived? Colleen thought, looking around the interior of the plane. If she were honest, a tiny little bit of her was impressed. Only a minuscule bit, mind. The other part of her felt slightly ridiculous having the attentions of a stewardess all to themselves on the tiny, if luxurious, twin-propped plane. And ridiculously under-dressed in her boy jeans and T-shirt, carrying nothing but an imitation designer handbag over her shoulder.

Almost as soon as they’d taken off, Daniel had taken out some papers and a laptop. Once she’d had a good look around and got over the excitement of being on a private plane—and she couldn’t pretend for the life of her that she wasn’t—even if it might make her look like a country bumpkin in Daniel’s eyes—she’d fallen asleep.

She’d only woken when Daniel had bent over her and whispered that they were landing and she needed to fasten her seat belt. For a moment when she’d opened her eyes, she couldn’t remember where she was. She’d been having a lovely dream. A dream where she was behind someone on a horse and they were galloping off somewhere. As she stared groggily into Daniel’s eyes, she realised with a guilty start that the person on the horse hadn’t been Ciaran. It had been someone with green eyes—the man looking down at her, in fact.

She had hidden her embarrassment by escaping to the small onboard toilet and splashing her face with cold water.

When they were escorted through Heathrow airport and towards a sleek, black, stretch limousine. Colleen noticed people nudging each other, puzzlement etched on their faces as they tried to place them. Daniel with his snazzy suit and air of confidence had to be someone famous and as for Colleen, she must be some pop or film star—someone of importance—surely under-dressing to fool the media?

The thought made her smile. She might as well enjoy her moment in the limelight—it was probably the only one she would have until her wedding day.

They sat in silence as they were driven to the hospital. Daniel had his laptop out again and was deeply immersed in whatever he was reading. She’d never met anyone quite so focused on the task in hand before. One minute his attention was completely concentrated on making her do what he wanted, the next minute he was totally engrossed in whatever was on that laptop of his. She simply couldn’t make him out. But it was his son that concerned her. How badly had his brain been injured? What was his prognosis? She wouldn’t take this job unless she was sure she could help him.

Whizzing along the motorway seeing London city silhouetted in the distance, Colleen felt a thrill of excitement. She’d always planned to come back to London, but somehow the opportunity had never arisen. Ciaran wasn’t the adventurous type. He always said that he didn’t see the point in travelling to foreign places when you had everything you needed on your own doorstep.

Although she’d never admit it to Trish, sometimes Colleen longed for a bit more excitement. Was she just being foolish for secretly wanting Ciaran to whisk her away to Paris for a weekend? As he’d said, it’d be a waste of money when they needed every penny to get their house finished before the wedding. But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

The car swung sharply to the right, pulling up outside the familiar buildings of Guy’s, the hospital where Colleen had trained. She knew from what he’d told her that Harry had been in ITU before being transferred to the high-dependency unit and then to the paediatric ward.

In the ward, posters covered the walls in an attempt to make the unit as cheerful as possible. Every room was a single and a large bright day room filled with toys lead off to the left.

Daniel paused at the very last room and held a finger to his lips. ‘We have to go in quietly. Harry gets startled by any loud noise and it unsettles him.’

‘Why don’t you go in to see Harry, first, while I chat to the nurses?’ Colleen suggested. ‘Then I’ll come in and say hello.’

Daniel nodded briefly and Colleen went to find the nurse in charge of the ward. When she explained who she was and why she was there, she was directed to an office. A woman with short dark hair looked up from her paperwork and held out a hand. ‘I’m Sister Lipton.’

Sister Lipton waited until Colleen was sitting down before she continued. ‘So you’re the person who’s to be Harry’s private nurse?’ she said. ‘Mr Frobisher has told us of his plans.’

Colleen didn’t bother to correct her. She had yet to decide whether she was going to take Harry on.

‘I have to tell you that I think taking Harry home at this point is a mistake,’ Sister Lipton continued.

‘Can I ask why?’

The nurse frowned. ‘Apart from the fact that there are excellent rehab facilities in London, there is the small matter of the fact that Mr Frobisher doesn’t seem to know how to interact with his son.’

‘Oh?’

‘Harry was in ITU for a week with a GCS score of three. During that time Mr Frobisher, perfectly understandably, refused to leave his son’s bedside. But instead of talking to Harry, as we suggested, Mr Frobisher mostly spent his time working on his laptop. Furthermore, I gather he caused the nurses some problems with his demands.’ She sighed. ‘He insisted on bringing in specialists of his own to assess his son. In fact, he had all sorts of demands. Some of them reasonable. Some less so.’

Colleen hid a smile. She had no doubt that Daniel hadn’t been the easiest relative to have around. But what Sister Lipton said about Daniel not interacting with Harry was more of a worry. Nursing staff could only do so much; the rest was up to the patient and their loved ones.

‘Mr Frobisher tried the same sort of thing when we moved Harry here once the lad was stable,’ Sister Lipton continued. ‘I’m afraid he and I clashed more than once. In many ways I won’t be sorry to see the back of him.’

‘But you don’t think he should have Harry at home? I can assure you that I’ve worked with patients like Harry for many years and Mr Frobisher is fully committed to ensuring that Harry receives as good quality care at home as he does here.’

‘That may be,’ Sister Lipton said. ‘But it’s Harry’s attitude to his father that worries me. When Harry first regained consciousness he was very agitated. As you know, we see that a great deal with patients like Harry, but it didn’t take long for us to notice that it was his father’s presence that seemed to distress the boy. We asked Mr Frobisher not to spend so much time on the ward. He wasn’t happy, as you can imagine, but even he could see he wasn’t helping matters. And as we expected, Harry was—and is—much calmer when his father isn’t around.’