Tamed by her Brooding Boss

‘But then …?’

‘I began to wonder if I might be in the way. What newly married couple wants a teenager around?’ She pulled a face. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t long before I went away to medical school, and I was glad to be independent. And it was easier to rent my own place, once I found friends to share with me.’

‘How did your father feel about that? After all, you and he had quite a few years here in Cornwall when it was just the two of you together.’

She shrugged awkwardly. ‘It was never all that comfortable for either of us once we were left on our own. He was withdrawn a lot of the time, and he preferred to be by himself. He’d have cut himself off from everyone and everything if it had been possible, but instead he had to go out to work to keep a roof over our heads. Then he met Tracy and everything changed.’

He frowned, looking at her with an intent expression. ‘That must have been hard on you after all that time of being out in the cold, so to speak.’

She pressed her lips together briefly. ‘She obviously sparked something in him that gave him a renewed zest for life. I guess I was glad he’d found some reason to join the human race once more.’ The path led down from where they were to the centre of the village, where the grocery store and the post office stood side by side. ‘I need to buy some fresh vegetables and a loaf of bread,’ she announced. ‘Are you heading in the same direction as me?’

‘I am. I thought I might get some sticky buns and one of Martha’s hot coffees to take away.’ He sent her a quick glance. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help me eat them—I didn’t have breakfast and I missed out on lunch with being called out so early this morning. It’s lazy of me, I know, but I can’t be bothered to go back home and cook.’

Her green eyes widened a fraction. ‘It’s the middle of the afternoon,’ she said in astonishment. ‘You ought to know better than to go without food in our line of work.’

He nodded, his mouth making a crooked line. His whole countenance changed when he smiled, and her heart gave a small lurch. ‘Consider me told off,’ he said. ‘How about the buns? Do you want to share?’

‘Okay.’ She pushed open the door of the shop and a bell jangled to alert Martha, the proprietor, to her customers. ‘But I’ll go one better than that. Why don’t you come over to my place and I’ll heat up some soup and warm some bread rolls in the oven? Then you can have the buns for afters. I only live about five minutes’ walk from here.’ The suggestion was out before she had time to consider whether she was wise to get in closer contact with this man who had haunted her, metaphorically speaking, ever since her change from teenage brat to emerging womanhood.

‘Well, that’s too good an offer to miss … if you’re sure?’ His brow creased. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It’s no bother. But if you were to collapse through malnutrition, I wouldn’t want to have it on my conscience.’ She gave him an admonishing glance and he laughed.

‘Thanks, Sarah. Besides, I’m curious to see where you’re living now. I heard you’d bought a place, rather than renting. That sounds enterprising, coming from a girl who wanted to be free as a bird and explore new pastures.’

‘Hmm.’ Her cheeks flushed with warm colour. ‘I was very young and naïve when I came out with that statement.’ She’d been brash, full of youthful defiance, keen to let him know that she wouldn’t be staying around for much longer. In truth, in her mind, she’d been running away. Her mouth made an odd twist. ‘It’s actually not up to much, and I think you might be quite disappointed when you see it. I know I was, but I was already contracted to buy it.’

He gave her a perplexed glance. ‘You mean you bought it without seeing it?’

‘That’s right. It came up for auction and I didn’t have time to suss it out before putting in an offer. It was just about as much as I could afford.’ She lifted her arms in a futile gesture. ‘And I was in a bit of a hurry.’

‘It sounds like it.’

‘Can I help you?’ Martha bustled forward, ready to serve them, her face creasing in a smile. ‘Have you managed to sort yourself out, my dear?’ she queried gently, looking at Sarah. ‘You did quite a bit of stocking up last time you were in here, didn’t you? I must say, you don’t look quite as harassed as you did then.’

‘I think it’s all beginning to work out,’ Sarah answered cheerfully. ‘You had pretty well everything I needed to get me started with the cleaning and so on … but I just want a few bits this time around.’

Martha collected together everything off Sarah’s list, and she and James left the shop a few minutes later, loaded with packages. James was munching on one of the buns he’d bought.

‘Here, let me carry those for you,’ he said, relieving her of a couple of bags. He peered inside them. ‘There are a lot of vegetables in here for just one young woman.’

‘Ah … perhaps you didn’t know …’ She sent him a quick, sideways look. ‘I’m not on my own these days.’

‘You’re not?’ His step halted momentarily and he frowned, glancing at her ring finger and then, seeing that it was bare, said, ‘Have I missed something? Are you involved with someone?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ She walked determinedly up the hill towards her cottage.

He sent her a puzzled look, but they’d reached her house by now and she stood still, looking up at the blotchy, white-painted building with its peeling woodwork. ‘This is it. This is where I’m living now.’

He stared, his gaze moving up to the roof where a few slates were cracked or missing altogether. To his credit, he managed to keep a straight face as he said slowly, ‘I think you might have your work cut out here.’

She laughed. ‘You said it … but that’s nothing. Wait till you see the inside.’ She’d already reinforced his view that she was as reckless as ever, buying on impulse, so what did it matter if he looked around and saw the pitiful state it was in?

They walked along the drab hallway to the kitchen, where he set the bags and packages down on the pine table. He glanced thoughtfully around the room for a moment or two, taking in the flaking ceiling and the windows that hadn’t seen a lick of paint for quite some time.

‘The cupboards and worktops look as though they’re made of solid wood,’ he commented after a while. ‘I suppose they could be stripped back and restored to their original condition—or painted, depending on how you feel about it.’

‘Hmm. Yes, you’re right. I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to do yet.’ She smiled at him. He was being positive, and that made her feel much better. ‘I’ll put the soup on a low heat, and the rolls in the oven, and I could show you around the place while they’re warming up, if you like?’

He nodded. ‘Sounds good to me. Can I do anything to help? Shall I put the kettle on?’

‘Okay, thanks. Mugs are over there, cutlery in the drawer.’

They worked together for a while, and then she took him on a whistle-stop tour of the three-bedroomed cottage, pointing out the best features, where she was able to find any.

‘I knew the structure of the house was reasonably sound when I bid for it,’ she told him, ‘because Murray, my neighbour, is a good friend, and he knew about the property—from a layman’s point of view, of course.’

‘Ah … I see … I think.’ He hesitated. ‘Have you known him long?’

She nodded. ‘For years, though of course we’ve been out of touch until recently. He’s been a great help to me.’ They were in one of the bedrooms, and she waved a hand towards the small fireplace. ‘I’m not sure quite what to do about that. As you’ve seen, there’s a fireplace in each of the three bedrooms.’ She frowned. ‘They say you should keep any character features like that if at all possible when you’re renovating, but they don’t look too good at the moment, and anyway I’m wondering if the rooms might be a bit chilly with the open chimney.’

He shook his head. ‘The chimney shouldn’t make any difference, and from the looks of things you have central heating, which should keep everything cosy. I think it would be a good idea to keep them. The house is Victorian and pretty solid in most respects, and it would be a pity to lose its character. It should be a fairly straightforward job to renovate them—you have to get rid of any rust, of course, apply a coat of red oxide and then when that’s dry rub in some black grate polish. It doesn’t come off once it’s done, and the fireplace will look as good as new.’

‘You’re probably right.’ She was thoughtful. ‘I’ll put it on my list of things to do—it’s getting to be quite a long list.’

‘I could do it for you, if you like.’

She blinked in astonishment. ‘You’d do that?’ She was completely bowled over by his unexpected offer. Why would he want to spend time doing anything at all in this old, neglected house? And why would he do it for her?

‘I think it’s something I would enjoy.’ He went over to the fireplace and ran his fingers lightly over the partially engraved cast iron. ‘I often did restoration work in the family home, don’t you remember? There was that time I was up a stepladder, trying to decide what colours to use on the ornate ceiling in the dining room, when you walked in.’ He sent her an oblique glance, a glimmer sparking in his dark eyes.

‘Oh.’ The breath left her lungs in a small gasp. How could he have brought that up? Did he recall everything, every tiny instance of when she’d brought havoc into his life? ‘How was I to know you were balanced on a ladder?’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to take you by surprise. All I knew was I was supposed to go to the house and find someone who would get me started on the apple picking. I should have gone to the study, but I went into the dining room by mistake.’

‘And I narrowly avoided taking a nose dive.’

‘Because I managed to steady the ladder just in time—’

‘Only after I grabbed hold of the mahogany cabinet and regained my balance.’

‘Yes, well …’ Sarah clamped her mouth shut. Perhaps it was for the best if she didn’t say any more. It was an experience that had alarmed her greatly at the time. For a number of years she had worked on the estate in the summer holidays and this particular season she had been scheduled to spend time in the orchards. She hadn’t meant to catch her employer’s son off guard, and the consequences could have been disastrous. ‘You made a good job of the ceiling anyway,’ she said, breaking her vow of silence.

He grinned. ‘I guess I did, in the end. It took a while, though. A couple of weeks at least.’ He moved away from the fireplace. ‘I’ll make a start with the fires as soon as I get hold of the red oxide and the polish … that’ll be sometime next week, I expect.’

‘Um, okay. Thanks. That would be really good. I’m really stunned that you should offer.’ She looked around for a moment at the fading wallpaper and gave a soft sigh. It would all get done eventually.

‘As you say, the house is sound in most respects,’ James commented, interpreting her rueful expression. ‘It doesn’t look much now, but with care and attention it could be something quite special.’

She smiled at him. ‘Yes, you’re right, of course.’ She turned towards the door and said, ‘I think you’ve seen everything now—shall we go and see if the soup’s ready?’

The kitchen was warm from the old AGA, and Sarah soon had the table set for the meal. She put out butter, ham and cheese, along with a bowl of fresh salad, and invited James to sit and eat. Then she remembered the gingerbread men and laid some out on a plate, sliding it alongside the sticky buns James had bought.

‘Help yourself,’ she said, taking a seat across the table from him.

He smiled as he looked at the food, and sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Mmm,’ he murmured, ladling soup from the tureen into his bowl. ‘This smells appetising—like home-cooked vegetables in a rich, meaty broth.’ He dipped his spoon in the soup and tasted the mixture, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘Ah … this is wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything quite like it.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it—though if you’re that hungry, I expect anything would taste good right now.’ She grinned. ‘Although I did spend a good deal of yesterday evening getting it ready.’

His dark brows rose, and he looked at her dubiously, as though he expected to see her nose grow like Pinocchio’s had whenever he’d told a lie. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said in astonishment. ‘You, spending time in a kitchen? I can scarcely believe it. As I recall, you’d sooner grab a burger or a baguette or stick something in the microwave so that you could be on your way. Wherever did you learn to cook?’

‘Oh, here and there. It turned out to be a bit of a necessity once I was on my own.’ She laughed. ‘To be honest, I soon got very tired of convenience food and decided I needed to buy a cook book.’ She helped herself to salad, adding grated cheese to her plate alongside the ham.

‘You certainly look good on whatever it is you’ve been eating these last few years.’ His glance trailed over her. ‘You’ve filled out—as I recall, you were a skinny little thing with flyaway hair that was forever coming loose from the pins, or whatever it was you used to keep it in place.’

Her mouth made a brief, crooked slant. ‘Not much change with the hair, then.’ She’d brushed it before leaving the house, securing it in a topknot as best she could, and even now she could feel silky strands parting company with the clips.

She bent her head and pretended to be absorbed with her meal. He’d called her skinny. No wonder he’d not even looked at her the way she’d hoped for back then when she’d been seventeen. Warm colour filled her cheeks. Skinny. He’d made a twosome with Chloe, the daughter of the local innkeeper—she’d had curves aplenty, along with golden hair and dreamy blue eyes. She’d seen them having lunch together at a pub, and his defection had been the final straw to a love-starved teenager. She’d vowed then she would get away from the village and leave James far behind.

And yet now she was sharing a meal with him in her fading, love-starved cottage. She must be mad.

She gathered her composure and forced herself to look at him once more. ‘I made another pot of tea—would you like a cup?’ She was already reaching for the teapot.

He nodded. ‘Thanks. That would be great.’ He was staring absentmindedly at the plate of gingerbread men. Some had bits of leg missing, or half an arm, and that made him smile. ‘They smell good—more wounded soldier than fighting men, I’d guess,’ he said.

‘Oh, yes. They’re Sam’s addition to the feast. He’s always in too much of a hurry to bother with perfection.’

He frowned. ‘Sam—so there’s someone else, as well as Murray? Your life must be getting quite complicated.’

‘Yes.’ She glanced at him and said quietly, ‘Perhaps you haven’t heard what happened to my father and Tracy?’ It had been a terrible shock, and she had never felt more alone in her life when she’d heard the news of their accident.

‘Something happened to them?’ His expression was suddenly serious, and Sarah nodded unhappily.

‘They were caught up in a road-traffic accident.’ She pressed her lips together briefly. ‘Unfortunately their injuries were serious and they died almost instantly.’

He drew in a sharp breath, his features taut. ‘I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Sarah. That must have been awful for you.’

‘It was. It was a difficult time.’ She closed her eyes fleetingly, resting a hand on the table, unable to concentrate on anything for that moment, while her mind was lost in the memory of those dreadful weeks when the world as she’d known it had come to a standstill.

His fingers closed over hers, in a comforting gesture that brought her back to the present and made her look up into his dark eyes.

‘Did you have friends to support you?’

‘Thankfully, yes.’

‘I’m glad. I wish I could have been there for you.’

‘Thank you.’ She sent him a gentle smile. ‘But I coped. The biggest problem for me back then was what to do about Sam and Rosie, of course … my half-brother and half-sister. Sam’s ten years old, and Rosie’s eight.’ She frowned. ‘I think you might have seen Sam when he was a baby … at the wedding reception of a mutual friend. Anyway, they both live with me now.’

‘But … surely there was some other relative who could have taken them in? An uncle and aunt, perhaps?’ He looked shocked. ‘How can it be that you’re looking after them?’

Her shoulders lifted. ‘There’s no one else, so they’re my responsibility now. That’s why we moved back here, so that I could take up this new job and hopefully keep a roof over our heads.’

He shook his head, a perplexed expression on his face. ‘I’d no idea, none at all.’

‘Why would you?’ she said quietly.

They finished their meal and James helped her to clear away. It was plain to see he was stunned by what she had told him, and later, when he was getting ready to leave, he said, ‘You’ve taken on something that others would baulk at, you know.’ His features relaxed. ‘But somehow I might have expected it of you. You were always up for a challenge, weren’t you?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Let’s hope this one doesn’t turn and bite back.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘HOW are you feeling today, Nicola?’ James picked up his patient’s chart and then moved to the bedside where he gave the woman an engaging smile.

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