‘Come on, then, Titan—we’ll see Mum before we go to Lachlan’s.’
The little dog gave a bark of approval and trotted cheerfully alongside Christa as she set off. The crisp air was as heady as champagne, and she took deep breaths as she ran along the lane towards her mother’s flat, feeling the release of tension as she worked her body hard after a week’s arduous work. There was a light hoar frost on the verges, and it clung to the trees and hedges, glittering in the morning sun—everywhere looked magical.
Her thoughts went like a magnet to Lachlan. Indeed, it had been difficult to get him out of her mind since that magical night when he’d come over for a meal. In moments when she wasn’t busy, her imagination worked overtime, feeling the firmness of his mouth kissing her lips, his skilful hands caressing her and the strength and warmth of his fit, lean body against hers. She’d almost come to the conclusion that she would never again feel attracted to any man. But after only a short acquaintance with Lachlan, everything in her body and mind was revitalised—she felt alive, energised and free of all the sad memories of the past.
She was tremendously happy—of course she was! She was going to be spending most of Sunday with Lachlan. He’d suggested lunch and a walk after they’d discussed the colour schemes and alterations he might try at Ardenleigh.
Christa tried to push to the back of her mind any possibility that she might be stupid enough to fall madly in love with a man who only wanted a brief encounter. Suzy’s words still echoed in her head, and it would be a sure-fire way to having her heart broken again.
This heady feeling of happiness wasn’t love—of course it couldn’t be. She’d only known the man a matter of weeks. But it was certainly an overwhelming attraction. She was going to play it cool, make sure that the only exercise they did would be that brisk walk and forbid herself to think their relationship would go on for ever! She didn’t want a rerun of her experience with Colin.
She turned into the drive that led to the block of flats in which her mother lived and knocked on the door, which was on the latch.
‘Mum? Are you there?’ she called. ‘I’ve just dropped in for a moment to make sure you’re OK.’
She heard the murmur of voices in the lounge and went into where her mother was sitting with Bertie, her friend from the next-door flat.
Pat came over to kiss her. ‘Darling—how lovely of you to come over. Have you run here? How trim you look! I wondered if you’d have time to see me this weekend, you being so busy at the moment.’
Bertie, tall and military looking, bent down to stroke Titan. ‘Grand little dog, this,’ he said. ‘If we weren’t in a flat I’d have one just like him.’
‘You can always borrow him.’ Christa smiled. ‘How are you, Bertie—your angina not troubling you at the moment?’
Bertie was a patient of hers and had had a few episodes of angina over the past few years.
‘Absolutely fine. Those pills work a treat.’
‘Well, don’t forget to come in for your check-up soon. Are you off somewhere nice today?’
‘We’re just off to Marfield House—it’s that stately home in the hills. We’ll have a little walk in the grounds and a coffee. I’m so glad it’s not raining, everything looks so much better in the sun.’ Pat looked assessingly at her daughter. ‘Talking of looking better, you look one hundred per cent less stressed and tired than the last time I saw you. This Lachlan Maguire must be pulling his weight. Is he proving an asset?’
‘It’s a tremendous help, having him there.’
‘So you like him, then?’
Christa suppressed a giggle but kept her voice light. ‘He’s a good doctor—no worries about that.’ She paused for a second and then remarked easily, ‘Perhaps you ought to meet him some time.’
Her mother smiled. ‘Maybe, one day—there’s no hurry, I’m sure,’ she said lightly. ‘And you? What are you doing today? Having a rest, I hope.’
‘Well, I’m on my way to see Lachlan, as a matter of fact. I said I’d help him with some ideas for doing up Ardenleigh. He says he hasn’t a clue!’
Pat looked at her sharply and took a deep breath. ‘Look, darling, I know you’ll think I’m interfering, but it’s just a bit of advice. Please, be careful, won’t you? After your previous experience you must know that sometimes working closely with someone can lead to...well, you know, working with a colleague is one thing, but socialising is another...’
Christa sighed. ‘I’ve told you, Mum, I shall be very careful. And I’m bound to see him outside working hours anyway.’
Pat shook her head and pursed her lips, and Christa said impatiently, ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mum! What have you got against Lachlan? You don’t know him! The episode with Colin is history now, anyway.’ She looked at her mother’s expression and frowned. ‘Is it Lachlan or men in general you’re not keen on?’
Pat looked flustered and rather forlorn. ‘Darling...it’s just that... Oh, dear, let’s not come to blows about it. I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re a big girl now—I suppose I forget that sometimes!’
Christa gave her mother a quick hug. ‘I know you do, Mum!’
But as she left the flat Christa recalled her mother’s less-than-enthusiastic words about Isobel the other day. What was it about the Maguire family that made her mother uneasy? she wondered. Then she shrugged to herself—there had to be a reason for her mother’s anxiety and one day she’d get to the bottom of it, but for the immediate future she had more interesting things to do. She felt a flicker of excited anticipation as she started running down the lane towards Ardenleigh.
Lachlan was hacking away at huge overgrown laurels by the front door, and for the first time in years the beautiful golden stonework was beginning to appear. His hair was dishevelled, and he was wearing an old tartan lumber jacket over battered cord trousers—he looked strong and utterly gorgeous, as virile as someone in an advertisement for an unbelievably effective tonic!
When he saw her, he flung down his secateurs and strode over to her, sliding his arms round her waist, his hands spread across her back so that she was imprisoned against him. Christa’s vow to distance herself from him seemed to disintegrate like bubbles floating in the air, and she found herself winding her arms round his neck, desperate to be as close to him as she could, to feel him against her once again. He buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck softly.
‘Mmm...you smell so sweet,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve nearly gone crazy waiting for you to turn up...wanting to hold you.’
His hand crept under her T-shirt, cupping her breast gently, and a whoosh of sensation thrilled through her. Any second now it would be a complete rerun of the other night!
With a tremendous effort of will Christa managed to disentangle herself from Lachlan and, half laughing, managed to gasp, ‘Hey, not so fast, young man! And anyway,’ she said primly, ‘we agreed that what we did the other night, was just a bit of fun, a one-off, didn’t we?’
Lachlan raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that all it meant to you?’ he said lightly. ‘I obviously didn’t make much of an impression! I’ll have to make more of an effort next time!’ he said with a grin.
She pushed him away with a giggle. ‘We’ve got work to do! I’ve brought the sample paint pots.’
He looked down at her, surprised. ‘The what? Oh...’ He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Good God, girl, I wasn’t thinking about paint then. I was thinking... Oh, what the hell, come in and let’s have some coffee while I tell you what I was thinking about!’
It was like an invitation from the spider to the fly, thought Christa wryly. There was no way she could regard him as purely a work colleague when the man exuded sex from every pore, and no way she could resist that invitation!
The percolator was already bubbling quietly away and there was a delicious smell of fresh coffee pervading the place. Lachlan poured some out into mugs for them both and put them on the table, then turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders,
‘Now I�
��ll tell you what I was thinking of...’ he said with a cheeky grin, dipping his head to hers and brushing her mouth softly, then gradually his kissing became more demanding, teasing her lips apart, moving his hands over her body. With commendable willpower, Christa wriggled free of him for a second time and he stepped back, his blue eyes dancing with amusement.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked innocently. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’
Christa tried to look severe, and smothered another giggle. ‘If you want me to help you with advice about the house, you’d better not do that,’ she said crisply. ‘It seems to drive any sensible idea out of my head!’
‘You’re so bossy,’ grumbled Lachlan. ‘But don’t imagine it’s out of the question that I won’t try again!’ He handed her a mug of coffee and they sat in a companionable way on the wooden kitchen chairs next to each other. ‘So how was your conference—a lot of laughs?’
‘I met an old friend of yours there.’ She smiled. ‘She told me all about you!’
Lachlan looked startled. ‘Who could that be?’
‘Suzy Collins—she knew you in Australia.’
‘Ah, Suzy! Great fun...’ He looked suspiciously at Christa. ‘I hope she didn’t give away any state secrets...’
Christa smiled demurely. ‘Nothing I didn’t know about you already!’
He laughed. ‘Then I can relax. Let’s get back to business. Tell me what you think about the kitchen, for a start.’
Christa looked around—he’d made an attempt to clear the place of all the old bottles and cans that she’d seen on the shelves the first night he’d arrived, and he’d stripped the floor of the battered linoleum that had been there before. The old green-painted doors on the cupboards had been taken off and were piled on the kitchen table.
‘You’ve been working hard—it looks better already!’
‘You should have seen some of the stuff in those jars! I think there was a good supply of penicillin growing on top of some of them!’
‘So are you going to strip the doors or paint them again?’
‘I don’t know... What do you suggest?’
‘I think I’d like to see the original pine or perhaps spray them cream. Lighten things up a little.’ She peered through a half-open door at the side of the kitchen. ‘What’s through there?’
‘A very cold scullery with two sinks in it—I suppose it’s what used to be called a wash-house.’
Christa went to inspect it and laughed. ‘It’s too tiny to be of much use—you could always knock down the wall and make the kitchen bigger. And then you could make a huge picture window here, overlooking a lovely view of the garden.’
Lachlan looked enthusiastic. ‘Yeah, that would look great. I suppose we could even have huge glass sliding doors the length of that wall...’
Was it a Freudian slip that he said ‘we could have’? wondered Christa wistfully. Then she told herself crossly that he had no notions of including her in his plans—he just wanted advice. He led her to the front of the house and into the drawing room.
‘What about this room?’ he said.
It was a magnificent room with two huge bay windows on either side of French doors, which flooded the place with light. But there was the musty, damp smell of a room never aired, never lived in. At one end of the room there was an enormous fireplace that cried out for a log fire on a winter’s day such as this. In her imagination Christa saw the cheerful flicker of flames shooting up the chimney, could smell the sweet smell of applewood, picture the two of them in front of it, doing wonderful things to each other... She veered quickly away from that daydream—it was becoming almost a reflex reaction that when she thought of Lachlan she thought of making love!
‘You need to warm this room up,’ she suggested briskly, forcing that image out of her mind. ‘Have you any wood to make up a fire in that fireplace?’
‘Plenty. I was cutting some from the front when you came. We’ll do it later after we’ve been out.’
‘And you know what? That peeling wallpaper should be easy to pull down, and it would look fabulous with a lovely soft green wash over the walls! And if you got rid of this old carpet and put down a new one—say, pale oatmeal, it would set off the lovely old oak furniture in here.’
Christa looked at the sagging and faded settee and matching chairs, and the curtains, sadly fraying, exposed as they were to the sunlight.
‘And another thing,’ she continued brightly, ‘if you went to the country house sales around here, you could easily buy a new settee and chairs, and curtains, and if....’
Lachlan grinned and put up his hand. ‘Whoa! Steady!’ he remarked. ‘We’re talking serious money here. Remember, the stuff I’m short of?’
‘I hadn’t forgotten that. Talking of which...’ She took a deep breath and said boldly, ‘I suppose you haven’t had second thoughts about the leisure development?’
He laughed. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’ He leant against the wall, his legs casually crossed, hands in pockets. ‘Actually, I’ve had a lot of interest and early signs are that the council isn’t against it in principle.’
Christa’s expression turned to one of determination. ‘Well, when the planning application comes up, I can assure you that several of us will be objecting to that in the strongest terms.’
Lachlan looked at her from under his brow. ‘Look, don’t let’s argue about it. Why don’t we have that walk now while the sun’s out? We’ll go down to the beach through the woods and fields and I can show you exactly what the plan might be.’ He stepped forward and put his arms round her, tilting her face to his, and said impishly, ‘Who knows? Perhaps I can persuade you to change your mind.’
He smiled down at her, those blue eyes of his exuding sex. He took her face in his hands and kissed her lingeringly, and she turned her face away, half laughing, half irritated that he should joke about something so important to her.
‘That’s an unfair tactic,’ she protested.
‘All’s fair in love and war,’ he commented, taking her hand and going through to the kitchen, opening the back door and striding down the garden towards the woods and fields.
Titan bounded energetically before them, barking furiously at imaginary rabbits, and Christa felt a sudden surge of elation because she was alone with Lachlan on a beautiful day, and had a chance to get to know him better. Surely it was the start of a relationship that would go further than a light-hearted affair, and even if Lachlan protested that long-term commitment was not for him, perhaps one day he’d see some merit in it!
They came to the wood that bordered the fields and Lachlan stopped and put a hand on Christa’s shoulders, pointing to a part of the wood that wasn’t so densely treed.
‘The company that wants to buy the land intends to have about eight wooden chalets here—and they’ll be made Swedish-style with wood that blends in with the surroundings,’ he explained. ‘No huge buildings, and the minimum amount of tree felling.’
‘And what about the leisure centre itself, with the swimming pool and gym? That will be hard to disguise surely?’
‘Same idea—a wooden structure on one floor and to the far side of the wood, so it won’t be seen from the house or the road.’
He was good at the talk, thought Christa. He made it sound as if no one would notice any difference to the place at all, and indeed it didn’t seem so very intrusive despite what she’d imagined.
She murmured, ‘I have no doubt it will be very popular with holiday people—it’s in such a beautiful area. But you haven’t quite convinced me yet.’
He grinned and bent down to kiss the nape of her neck. ‘That’s a challenge—I’ve every confidence I can win you over!’ He took her hand. ‘Now, let’s take Titan down to the beach and you can look back at it from that angle.’
They walked briskly through the furrowed fields, swinging hands, and came to the line of sand dunes that marked the edge of the beach. It spread gloriously before them, wide, empty and pearly pink, and the sun spa
rkled on the sea, millpond smooth but with little waves like lace ruffling the shallows. Above them mewed the seagulls, swooping and gliding before settling on the water. To the right of the firth were the hazy outlines of the Cairngorms, already white-tipped with early snow against a wintry blue sky.
‘Isn’t this perfect?’ Lachlan murmured, folding his arms and standing in mute admiration of the scene for a few minutes.
‘Better than Australia, then?’ teased Christa. ‘What made you go so far away when you love it so much here—and for so long?’
‘Good question.’ He shrugged. ‘Obviously it was an adventure, a marvellous opportunity to see the world—but would I have gone at that particular time if my mother hadn’t told me about her affair? I don’t know... All I do know is that I wanted to get as far away as I could from my family.’
‘You’d qualified by then?’ probed Christa.
‘Yes, thank God. At least I could earn my living at something. And I loved it—the people, the country and the experience. The variety of stuff I had to tackle was like Casualty on a grand scale—snake bites, dysentery, dehydration. It all made for a quick learning curve.’
She grinned cheekily at him. ‘I’m surprised you can contemplate coming back to work in the practice if you loved it so much.’ Then she added gently, ‘But it must have been a terrible shock when you heard Isobel had died.’
His face shadowed sadly. ‘I haven’t talked about it before, but I admit it was a hammer blow.’ He sighed and bunched his fists in his trouser pockets, staring across the firth. ‘I’m ashamed to say that I actually felt resentful, as if it was my poor mother’s fault she’d died so suddenly that I was unable to make my peace with her.’
Christa nodded. ‘That’s understandable.’
Lachlan shrugged. ‘During the time I’ve been back my feelings have changed—I feel guilty as hell that I left it so long to come home. I’d kept thinking I should return, but I suppose I was too proud to meet my mother again—apologise for what I had said to her. And now it’s too late...’
Return of Dr Maguire (Mills & Boon Medical) Page 12