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A Single Dad To Heal Her Heart
A Single Dad To Heal Her Heart

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A Single Dad To Heal Her Heart

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What was he doing?

He pulled away and cleared his throat.

‘Come on, let’s get you down to the bottom and I’ll go and get the car and come back for you. And I will carry you, because frankly it’ll be easier for both of us and if I don’t get you off this mountain safely your father’ll kill me.’

He turned his back on her, knelt down again and told her to get on, and after a moment’s hesitation, when he could almost hear her fighting her instincts, she leant into him, wrapped her arms round his neck and let him hoist her up onto his back.

He wrapped her legs round his waist and straightened up with a little lurch, and she gave a tiny shriek that morphed into a giggle.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she said, and he started to laugh.

Her arms tightened round his throat. ‘Don’t mock me.’

‘I’m not mocking you, I promise,’ he said, stifling the laugh, and she loosened her arms around his neck and rested her head against his with a sigh.

‘I’m so sorry I messed up your day,’ she murmured in his ear, and the drift of her warm breath teased his skin and the feelings he’d thought he’d suppressed roared into life again.

‘Don’t be,’ he said gruffly, trying not to think about his hands locked together under her bottom. Her undoubtedly very, very cute bottom. ‘It was just an accident. So, tell me, why trauma?’ he asked to distract himself. ‘Why not general surgery, like your father?’

‘That’s probably Mum’s influence, and surgery’s still an option, but I’m undecided about it, and trauma’s a nice high-octane job.’

He chuckled. ‘High-octane, sure, but I’m not sure I’d call it nice, especially the surgery. It can get pretty gory.’

‘So why did you choose it?’

‘I don’t know. Probably your father’s influence. I always wanted to be a surgeon, and when I was his registrar we had some interesting trauma cases and it just reeled me in. Yes, it’s gory, but it’s very gratifying when you can offer someone who’s been badly injured a better outcome.’

‘I would have thought you’d have been in London, then. That’s where a lot of the trauma cases are. More scope?’

He felt his heart hitch. ‘Yeah, well, I’ve done London, and frankly in the year and a half I’ve been in Yoxburgh there’s been plenty to keep me busy.’

More than enough, and nothing to do with his job. Not that he was going into details. He didn’t want to let reality intrude on a weekend that had been like a breath of fresh air after the roller coaster of the last two years, but that was all it was, a breath of fresh air, and it was going nowhere, he knew that, because there simply wasn’t room in his life for a relationship, however appealing. And anyway, there was an embargo on personal stuff this weekend, so he changed the subject.

‘Are you OK there? I’m not hurting you?’

‘No. It’s a bit sore, but it’s better than walking. How about you?’

‘I’m fine. We’re nearly there, anyway. Not long now.’

* * *

Frankly, it couldn’t be soon enough because, apart from being racked with guilt, she was swamped with feelings that were so unexpected she didn’t know how to deal with them.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d given up his chance of a climb to get her safely back down, because over the last three days he’d proved himself to be tough and determined and a brilliant team player.

Not that he didn’t know how to have fun. They’d had plenty of that, and she hadn’t laughed so much in ages.

They’d been teasing and flirting for most of the time, too, but she hadn’t expected him to act on it and his gentle kiss just now had brought all sorts of unexpected feelings rushing to the surface. Not to mention his hands locked together under her bottom, propping her up. They must be numb by now, and she had another pang of guilt.

‘Are you sure you’re OK, Matt?’

‘I’m fine,’ he said, and then they hit the track and he unlocked his hands and braced her as she slid down and put her feet on the ground.

He flexed his hands and shoulders and she watched the muscles roll under his damp T-shirt as he turned to her. ‘I won’t be long. Will you be all right?’

She lowered herself to a rock and dragged her eyes off his shoulders. ‘I’ll be fine. There’s no rush. I’ll just sit here and look at the view,’ she told him with a wry smile.

Mostly of him, as he turned away and headed down the track towards the farm at the end where the car was parked.

She studied him, his strong, firm stride, the straight back, his arms hanging loose and relaxed from those broad shoulders. Broad, solid, dependable. And sexy.

Very, very sexy.

Would they see each other again once they were back? She didn’t think so, despite this sizzle between them all weekend, because there was something about him, some reserve in his eyes, and when he’d kissed her he’d pulled away.

Would he have done that if he intended to follow through? Probably not, and she still didn’t feel ready for a relationship anyway after all she’d been through, but if nothing else they were good friends now and she’d known from that first day that she could rely on him.

He had a rock-solid dependability, carefully hidden under a lot of jokes and laughter, and if she had to be in this fix, she couldn’t have asked for a better person to help her out of it.

She just wished she hadn’t made it necessary.

* * *

‘We need to get this boot off.’

He’d propped her up on a sun lounger on the deck outside the lodge, and he was perched on the end by her feet, wondering how to remove it without hurting her.

‘They’re pretty old,’ she offered. ‘I don’t mind if you need to cut it off.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think I will. I’ll take the lace out and see how we get on.’

He unthreaded it, peeled back the tongue as far as it would go and slid his fingers carefully inside. ‘How’s that feel?’

‘Not too bad. A bit easier now you’ve undone the lace.’

‘Let’s just see what happens if I try and ease your foot out. Yell if I hurt you.’

She gave a stifled snort. ‘Don’t worry, I will,’ she said drily, and he looked up and met those gorgeous clear blue eyes and saw trust in them. He hoped it wasn’t unfounded.

‘Right, here goes,’ he said, and gently cupping his hand under her ankle to support it, he eased the boot away.

She made a tiny whimper at one point, but nothing more, and then it was off and he lowered her foot carefully onto a pillow. ‘How’s that feel?’

Her breath sighed out. ‘Better. Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, I haven’t prodded it yet,’ he said drily, and began to feel his way carefully around the joint, testing the integrity of the ligaments.

‘Ow.’

‘Sorry.’ He prodded a little more, feeling carefully for any displacement, but if there was it was slight. ‘I don’t think it’s fractured, and it doesn’t feel displaced, so I think it’s probably only a slight ligament tear. You need an X-ray, though.’

‘It can wait till we get back, can’t it?’

He nodded. ‘I think so. There’s not much else going on with it, I don’t think, but we’ll get Dan to look at it when he comes back just to be on the safe side. In the meantime I’ll get you some ice and I can strap it, if you like. That should help.’

‘Please. And I could kill a cup of green tea—oh, and a banana, if there’s one left,’ she said, throwing a grin over her shoulder as he headed for the kitchen, and he gave a grunt of laughter.

‘I get the distinct impression you’re milking this,’ he said drily as he walked away, and he put the kettle on, discovered there were no ice cubes, wetted a couple of tea towels and put them in the freezer, and raided the first-aid kit for some physio tape.

* * *

‘Better?’

She nodded. ‘Much.’

It was, hugely better, which wasn’t difficult. Her boot had been pressing on the outside of her ankle, and removing it had made a lot of difference. So had the cold pack and the strapping that, considering he was a trauma surgeon and not a physio or an orthopaedic surgeon, was looking very professional. It still shouldn’t have happened, though, and she sighed.

‘What?’

She shrugged. ‘Just—I’m cross with myself. And sorry, because I really thought we had a good chance of winning until I took my eye off the ball, and now I’ve blown it and ruined your last day.’

He frowned, his eyes serious. ‘It’s hardly ruined. You’re alive, Livvy, and you might not have been. If your head had hit that rock instead of your ribs, it could have been a very different story. I’d take that as a win any day. And it doesn’t matter about my climb, or the challenge.’

‘Yes, it does, and I still feel guilty. If you’d teamed up with someone else you might have won, but now I’ve let you down.’

‘No, you haven’t.’

‘Yes, I have! I’m the weak link in the chain, Matt.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not weak! There’s nothing weak about you.’

‘I didn’t look where I was going on a narrow rocky path with a crumbling edge. That’s pretty weak from where I’m standing.’

‘You’re sitting. Well, lying, really, technically speaking.’

She was, still propped up on the sun lounger with her ankle wrapped in the thawing tea towel in a plastic bag, a cup of green tea in her hand and a packet of crunchy oat cookies on the table between them because apparently the bananas were finished. Ah, well. She took another cookie and bit into it.

‘You’re a pedant, did you know that?’ she said mildly around the crumbs, and he chuckled, his frown fading.

‘It might have been mentioned. How’s your ankle now?’

‘Cold.’

‘Good. How about your ribs?’

‘Sore. I might move the ice pack.’

‘Here, let me.’

He picked up the makeshift ice pack, turned it over and gestured to her to pull up her T-shirt. She eased it out of the way and he winced.

‘Ow. That’s a good bruise. Let me feel that.’

‘Why, because poking it is going to make it feel so much better?’ she said drily, but he just gave her a look that was getting all too familiar and tugged up her T-shirt a little further. And then he frowned and ran his finger across the top of her abdomen from side to side along her scar. Well, one of them.

‘What happened? Another accident?’

‘Yes, but not my fault, before you say it. I was in a car crash when I was nineteen months old. I had a ruptured spleen and a perforated bowel.’

‘Ouch.’ He turned his attention back to her ribs and prodded them gently and rather too thoroughly. ‘Well, there’s nothing displaced,’ he said, and she rolled her eyes.

‘I could have told you that. I don’t have a fracture, Matt.’

‘How do you know? It’s not possible to be sure.’

She sighed. ‘Because I’m inside my body and you’re not?’

One eyebrow shot up, his eyes locked briefly with hers and then he let his breath out on what could have been a laugh and tugged her T-shirt back down, and she realised what she’d said.

Colour flooded her face and she groaned. ‘Sorry—I didn’t mean that quite the way it came out.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you did.’ He got to his feet and picked up his mug, hefting the ice pack in his hand and avoiding her eyes. ‘This thing’s thawed. I’ll get you another one, then I’ll make some more coffee and sort my stuff out. Do you want another drink?’

She shook her head, half mortally embarrassed at her off-the-cuff remark, and half tantalised by the idea of Matt’s really rather gorgeous body so intimately locked with hers.

‘No, I’m fine.’

She heard the door close behind her and stifled a groan, then dropped her head back against the sun lounger and closed her eyes.

Why had she said that? She’d never be able to look him in the eye again. Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

But her body was still caught up in the thought, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry...

CHAPTER TWO

SHE DIDN’T MEAN it like that.

Obviously she didn’t mean it like that, but the idea was in his head now, the thought of his body buried deep inside hers flooding his senses and driving him crazy.

He closed the kitchen door, put the tea towel back into the freezer, switched the kettle on again and then dropped his head against the cupboard above and growled with frustration.

What was wrong with him today? First the kiss, now this?

For the first time since Juliet, he wanted a woman. Not just any woman, but Livvy, apparently, and the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

All he could think about was peeling away her clothes and kissing every inch of her, touching her, stroking her skin, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the hitch in her breath as he touched her more intimately, the heat as he buried himself inside her—and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Should he be feeling like this? It had been two years—two years and a week, to be exact—but was that long enough? He didn’t think so, but his body didn’t seem to agree with him.

What do I do, Jules? Where do I go from here? I’m not ready for this...

He heard a sound in the living room and opened the door. Livvy was limping across the room, hopping from one piece of furniture to the next and then leaning heavily on it as she hobbled.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I thought I’d go and lie down for a bit, then maybe pack?’

‘Let me give you a hand.’

‘I can manage.’

Stubborn woman.

‘Of course you can, but only until you run out of furniture.’

He reached her side, took her arm and slung it round his neck and wrapped his other arm round her waist, being careful of her ribs.

‘OK?’

She nodded, and as she took a step forward there was a sharp crack and she gasped.

‘Was that your ankle?’

‘Mmm. Ouch.’

They looked down and she flexed it gingerly. ‘Oh. It feels better—like something was hung up.’

‘Try putting some weight on it, but carefully.’

She did, and nodded. ‘Better. It’s still very sore, but that definitely feels better.’

‘OK, well, don’t push your luck and don’t try and weight-bear on it unnecessarily until you’ve had it X-rayed. Let’s get you to your room.’

When they reached the side of the bed he let go carefully and she eased away from him, taking all that wonderful warmth and softness with her. Just as well. Except that instead of sitting down, as he’d expected, she looked up at him, slid her arms round him and hugged him, bringing all that warmth and softness back into intimate contact with his starving, grateful, desperate body.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

His arms closed around her without his permission. ‘What for?’ he asked, his voice a little strangled.

‘Just being you. You’ve been great the last few days. It’s been so much fun—well, till I wrecked it.’

‘You didn’t wreck it.’

She tipped her head back and their eyes met. ‘Yes, I did. Stop being nice, Matt. I know I was an idiot.’

He laughed softly and kissed her without thinking.

Just a brief kiss, nothing passionate or romantic, but still the sort of kiss you’d give a lover, a partner. Someone you were intimate with. And he wasn’t intimate with Livvy, and wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t ready yet, and he had other commitments that had to take priority. Would always have to take priority.

So he straightened up, trying to distance himself when all he wanted was to topple her backwards onto the bed and make love to her, but her eyes had widened, and after an endless moment she reached up, pulled his head gently back down to hers and kissed him.

Properly, this time, her lips parting, her tongue tangling with his, reeling him in, sending his senses into freefall.

He wanted her.

Every cell in his body was screaming for it, for her, for the heat, the passion, the closeness. He could feel her body pressed against his, feel his roaring to life, the ache, the longing in both of them as he kissed her back with all the pent-up need of two years of loneliness and putting himself last.

And then abruptly she let him go and sat down on the bed out of reach.

‘Is that your phone?’

Phone?

The ringtone was almost drowned out by his pounding heart, but it dragged him savagely back to reality.

‘Um—yeah. Yeah, it is.’

He pulled it out of his pocket, slightly dazed, took a step back and turned away, clearing his throat and groping for a normal voice.

‘Hi, Sam. Are you done?’

‘Yes—we’ve just reached the track. How’s Livvy?’

Kissing me...

‘She’s fine. I don’t think it’s broken. I’ll come and get you.’ He put the phone back in his pocket and turned back to her without meeting her eyes. ‘That was Sam,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘I’m going to get them. Will you be OK?’

‘Of course I will. You go. I’ll see you later.’

He nodded, his heart pounding, his body screaming for more, his head all over the place.

What was going on with him? How could he want her so badly?

He had no idea, but he didn’t have time to deal with it now, and maybe never. Stifling regret, he picked the keys up and walked out.

They loaded the car after lunch, did a final sweep of the lodge for missed possessions and set off on the six-hour drive back to Suffolk. She was in the front beside Ed to give her room to stretch her foot out, and Matt was behind her with Sam and Beth, with Lucy, Dan and Vicky in the rear.

She sighed quietly, and Ed shot her a searching look.

‘Are you OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Well, apart from feeling guilty for getting the best seat and ruining everyone’s day.’

‘You do a lot of that. Feeling guilty. You don’t need to, at least not around me. It took you and Matt out and distracted Sam enough that Beth and I won, so I’ve got no beef with you,’ he told her with a grin, then his smile gentled. ‘Livvy, why don’t you just close your eyes and rest? You’ve had a tough day.’

She nodded, wishing again that she hadn’t fallen, that she hadn’t kissed Matt again in the bedroom and made things awkward, that she was sitting beside him and taking advantage of the last few hours they had together, instead of being in the front with a damaged ankle and a feeling that she’d overstepped the mark with that kiss.

Would he want to see her again? Maybe, maybe not. If his phone hadn’t rung, what would have happened? Would they have made love? Maybe, and that surprised her because she didn’t do that sort of thing. It hadn’t even been on her radar for the last five years, but she’d never fallen into bed with someone she knew so little and certainly not after only three days of casual flirting, but maybe he didn’t do that sort of thing either, because when Sam had called him, he couldn’t get out fast enough. Had she read him wrong all weekend?

Highly likely, judging from his reaction, although he’d been with her all the way when they’d been kissing—or she thought he had. His body certainly had been, but maybe not his head.

Well, it didn’t matter, the moment was gone, the bullet dodged, and it was just as well because there were things he didn’t know yet—things she’d have to tell him before this went any further. If it was even going to, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Probably just as well his phone had rung, then.

* * *

What was wrong with him? Why was he reacting like this?

She was right in front of him, so close that the scent of her shampoo, so familiar now, was drifting over him and taunting him just like it had all weekend.

How could he want her like this? He didn’t even know her—and three days under Sam’s embargo of any personal information or discussion of life back home or in the hospital hadn’t helped with that at all. She was still an unknown quantity. And if he knew nothing about her apart from that she was Oliver’s daughter, she also knew nothing about him, about his life, his family, his motivations, his commitments.

He could have told her, could have broken the embargo and spilled his guts, but he hadn’t wanted to. If he was honest, he’d enjoyed the freedom of simply being himself, without all the baggage that went with it, but there was no way he could take it any further than a mild flirtation without her knowing a whole lot more about him. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be honest, and there was a world of difference between being frugal with the truth and denying the most important things in his life.

And anyway, he had nothing to offer her, nothing that wouldn’t be an insult.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes, but she moved her head and the scent drifted towards him again and there was no escape.

Halfway back they stopped for a drink and a leg stretch. Ed and Sam swapped places, and yet again she wasn’t next to Matt, who was now right in the back, as far away from her as he could get. Why hadn’t he offered to drive? Was he avoiding her? Maybe, after that excruciatingly embarrassing remark she’d made, not to mention the way she’d kissed him afterwards. She still couldn’t believe she’d done it, it was so unlike her to take the initiative, and she’d probably embarrassed the life out of him. Oh, well, they’d be back soon and she’d see then if she was right or not.

Finally Sam pulled up in front of her house and Matt climbed out, retrieved her rucksack and helped her into her house, then paused on the doorstep looking troubled.

‘Will you be OK on your own?’

So he was avoiding her, or he’d offer to stay with her. Sucking up her disappointment, she straightened her shoulders and plastered a bright smile on her face. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’ve got friends round the corner if I get stuck.’

‘You’re sure? No headache, no abdominal pain, no spinal issues? Numbness, tingling anywhere?’

She sighed. ‘Matt, I’m fine,’ she said patiently, and he gave a brief nod.

‘OK. Get checked over tomorrow, won’t you—or sooner if...?’

He hesitated a moment, his eyes locked with hers, and for a fraction of a second she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he smiled wistfully and reached out and touched her cheek, brushing it lightly with his knuckles. ‘It’s been a lot of fun. Thank you, Livvy. Take care.’

And with that he turned and walked down the path and got back into the car, and Sam pulled away, leaving her staring after them as they turned the corner and disappeared.

She closed the door with a sigh, hopped into her sitting room, lowered herself carefully onto the sofa and put her foot up.

So that was the end of that, then. So much for hoping something more might come of it. He could have stayed, or offered to come back after Ed had dropped him off, but he hadn’t, and all she could do was accept it. Not that she was looking for a relationship, in any way, but it would have been nice to be asked. Nice to be more than just fun.

Unless he was...?

Oh, idiot. He was married. Hence the guilt in his eyes, the reluctance, the harmless dalliance that didn’t break any vows but just made it a bit more fun.

That word again.

She rested her head back, closed her eyes and swallowed her disappointment. She was tired. Tired, confused and sore. That was all. And it wasn’t as if anything had really happened...

Her phone rang, and she answered it.

‘Hi, Dad. How’s things?’

‘Fine. How are you? How was the weekend?’

Confusing...

‘Great. I’m just back, actually. It was fabulous. Well, until this morning on the way up to Haystacks when I fell off the edge of a path and twisted my ankle.’

‘Ouch! Are you all right? How did you get down?’

Fast, but that wasn’t what he meant and she wasn’t telling them she could have tumbled all the way down to the bottom of the scree slope if it hadn’t been for the rock. ‘Carefully,’ she said with a wry laugh. ‘Two of the guys helped me back to the path, and then Matt carried me down. You know him, he’s one of your old registrars. Matt Hunter? He’s a consultant trauma surgeon at Yoxburgh, and he was my teammate.’

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