The Woman He's Been Waiting For

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The Woman He's Been Waiting For Page 10

by Jennifer Taylor


  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Just let me check you over to make sure.’

  He gently pushed her hands out of the way. Grace sat quite still as he felt his way around her neck and down her spine. Maybe she should have tried harder to convince him that she was fine, but it seemed to require too much effort.

  ‘I can’t find anything obviously wrong with you but you’ll need to be X-rayed before I can be sure. I’ll take you back to the hospital and—’

  ‘No. I don’t want to go back to the hospital, Harry. I just want to go home.’ She sighed when he started to object. ‘All right, I’m a bit shaken up, and I’ll admit it. But otherwise I’m fine. Really, I am.’

  He sat back on his haunches and looked at her. ‘You wouldn’t allow one of your patients to go home if they’d had an accident like this, would you?’

  ‘Probably not.’ She dredged up a smile. ‘But the difference is that I know there’s nothing wrong with me. I just need to go home and I’ll be fighting fit again in the morning.’

  ‘Hmm, I think that worries me more than anything else.’ He gave her a teasing grin as he stood up. ‘All right, I’ll take you home on one condition.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘That I stay the night at your house.’

  ‘Oh, but that really isn’t necessary—’ she began, but he didn’t allow her to finish.

  ‘It’s either that or I’m taking you straight back to the hospital. You know as well as I do that something could develop in the next few hours, and I don’t intend to take any chances. It’s your choice, Grace, so make up your mind which it’s to be.’

  ‘I want to go home,’ she said shortly, because there was no point arguing when he was in this mood. Once Harry dug in his heels, it was impossible to shift him.

  She sighed as he closed the car door and went to fetch her bag. Harry had been right when he’d said that it was time they called a halt to their constant bickering. They needed to put the past behind them and move on. They should have done it years ago but it was which direction they would move in that worried her most of all. While she was fighting with Harry, she knew exactly where she stood, but once they stopped there would no restrictions.

  She glanced at him as he got back into the car and felt her heart lurch in sudden panic. Deep down she knew that once hostilities ceased it would be only too easy to let herself like him.

  Harry was relieved when he saw the sign marking the boundary of the village up ahead. The past hour had been the worst of in his entire life. He felt physically sick when he thought what could have happened to Grace. She could have been killed tonight in that crash and it would have been his fault, too.

  He should never have allowed her to drive off like that, never have upset her in the first place. He should have had more sense than to push her when he could see that she was so distressed. Maybe she had taken him by surprise by comparing him to her father, but that was no excuse. His actions tonight could have resulted in a tragedy, and he would never forgive himself for the way he had behaved.

  He drove through the village in silence, wondering how he was going to make amends for what he’d done. He wouldn’t blame Grace if she refused to forgive him, but he had to try to make his peace with her. He was still trying to work out the best way to proceed when he drew up in front of her house, but there really wasn’t an easy way. The only thing he could do was apologise and make sure she knew that he meant it.

  ‘Before we go any further, I want to say how sorry I am. I had no right to push you so hard earlier and I regret it more than I can say.’

  ‘You’re no more to blame than me,’ she said quietly, turning to look at him.

  ‘Maybe.’ He shrugged, not wanting to compound his errors by arguing with her again, and she sighed.

  ‘Harry, it’s not your fault that I crashed the car. I shouldn’t have gone driving off like that in the first place.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t have done so if I hadn’t upset you.’ He captured her hand, feeling his heart bump painfully when he realised how small and slender her fingers felt compared to his. Grace was so feisty that he tended to forget how petite she was, but all of a sudden he was incredibly aware of the physical differences between them.

  ‘I want us to stop this constant bickering,’ he said thickly, because his mind seemed to have captured the idea and was running riot with it.

  ‘It’s what I want, too. It’s time we moved on, isn’t it, Harry?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ He gave her hand a quick squeeze then let it go. He couldn’t trust himself to sit there holding her hand in case he did something really stupid. Grace may have agreed that it was time to end hostilities but it didn’t mean she was prepared to go to the other extreme. Nothing she’d said or done had ever hinted at the fact that she might be attracted to him.

  He hastily got out of the car. Entertaining such thoughts would only lead to another disaster and he had to stop it. He hurried round to the passenger side and helped her out, putting his arm around her to assist her up the path.

  ‘Have you got your key?’ he asked, trying to ignore the feel of her body as it nestled against him. Normally Grace wouldn’t have allowed him within several yards of her, but they were so close now that he could feel the soft curve of her breast brushing against the wall of his chest, feel her hip and her thigh pressed against his. He gritted his teeth because there was no doubt that her nearness was having a potent effect on him.

  ‘It should be in my bag.’ She bent over to open her bag then gasped. ‘Oh…’

  ‘Grace.’ Harry’s grip tightened as he looked at her concern. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Just a pain in my shoulder…’

  She bit her lip and he could tell that she was trying not to cry. Reaching out, he took her bag from her. ‘Shall I find the key for you?’

  ‘Please. It should be in the side pocket. It’s got a fob on it—a silver frog.’

  He quickly found the key and unlocked the front door. ‘Mind the step,’ he warned, helping her into the hall. He shut the door then looked around to get his bearings. It was the first time he’d been to her house so he had no idea of the layout.

  ‘The sitting room’s through there.’ She pointed to a door at the far side of the hall and Harry nodded.

  ‘Right, let’s get you sitting down then I can take a proper look at your shoulder.’

  ‘It was just a twinge,’ she protested, as he helped her into the sitting room.

  ‘It looked like more than a twinge to me,’ he said firmly, easing the coat off her shoulders and sitting her down on the sofa. He packed a cushion behind her back then raised his brows. ‘Where exactly does it hurt?’

  ‘Just here,’ she admitted, pointing to a spot midway along her right clavicle.

  ‘Let me see.’

  Crouching down in front of her, he unbuttoned her blouse before she had time to protest. There was an area of heavy bruising extending at an angle from her clavicle right down to the centre of her chest. Harry traced it with his eyes, trying not to let his gaze stray. This was a professional consultation and he’d be damned if he would give in to his baser urges.

  ‘It’s from the seat belt,’ he said, glancing up. ‘When you crashed, you must have been thrown forward in your seat, causing the seat belt to lock. That’s what’s made all these bruises.’

  ‘So you don’t think I’ve broken anything?’

  ‘No. I know it must hurt but you’d be in a lot more pain if you’d broken your collar-bone.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that.’ She gave him a quick smile as she started to button the front of her blouse but he could see the colour in her cheeks and knew that she was embarrassed about him examining her.

  He hurriedly stood up, not wanting to add to her discomfort if he could avoid it. ‘What I suggest you do is have a warm bath to soak away the aches and pains. It’s amazing how many muscles get pulled when you have an accident like that. You’ll be stiff as a board in the morning if you
don’t do something about it tonight.’

  ‘Good idea.’ She pulled a rueful face. ‘I certainly don’t want to be staggering around the surgery tomorrow. It won’t exactly inspire confidence, will it?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait and see if you’re up to going in to work,’ he warned her.

  ‘I don’t have much choice. I can hardly go off sick while Miles is off.’ She struggled to her feet. ‘I’ll be fine by the morning—you’ll see.’

  It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to tell her it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that she would feel better the following day before he thought better of it. Hadn’t they just agreed that they would stop all the bickering? He bit back a sigh, wondering if they would be able to keep to their pact. Arguing with Grace had become a habit over the years and it would be difficult to break it.

  ‘Let’s hope so. How about I make us something to eat while you have that bath? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.’

  ‘That would be great, if you wouldn’t mind.’ She made her way to the door then paused. ‘I’d better show you where everything is kept first, hadn’t I?’

  ‘I’m sure I can manage,’ he said firmly. ‘You go and have your bath. I’ll just poke around in the cupboards until I find what I need, if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘Of course it is. Just help yourself.’

  She headed along the hall, taking her time as she climbed up the steep stairs. Harry waited at the bottom until she had reached the top safely then went in search of the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to find because there were just the two rooms on the ground floor—the sitting room and a big kitchen-dining room which had been furnished in a country style with a huge old scrubbed pine table and rush-seated chairs in the centre of the room.

  It was light years away from the ultra-modern steel and granite luxury of his own kitchen in the dockside apartment where he lived in London, but he had to admit that he preferred it. It was much more homely and inviting. He could just imagine the room filled with a family, the kids—a boy and a girl—sitting at the table, doing their homework, while he and Grace cooked dinner for them all…

  He caught himself up short, shocked by the direction his thoughts were taking. Grace may have agreed that they should try to get along with one another, but she certainly hadn’t agreed to play a permanent role in his life. They would be right back where they’d started if she found out what he’d been thinking, so he’d better put the idea out of his head.

  He went to the fridge and opened the door. There was a pack of lamb chops on a shelf and vegetables in the tray at the bottom so he set to work on their supper. But no matter how hard he tried to forget about it, that cosy little image stayed with him: he and Grace working side by side, making dinner for their kids. The worst thing of all was knowing that there was no chance of it coming true.

  Grace sighed as she stretched out, full length, in the bath and let the hot water lap over her aching body. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, she felt much better—better, in fact, than she’d felt for ages. She had never realised what a strain it had been, fighting with Harry all the time. She had expended an awful lot of energy over the years, making sure she was continually on her guard when she was around him. Now the situation had changed and they could stop arguing and become friends.

  She frowned because the idea of being Harry’s friend was hard to imagine. Could she really see herself phoning him up for a chat, joking with him, treating him exactly the same way she treated Miles?

  She tried to picture this new relationship but she just couldn’t see it. She simply couldn’t picture Harry in a similar role to the one Miles had always played in her life. Harry was vastly different to Miles. She felt differently about him.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to work out how she felt about Harry now that hostilities had officially ended. It wasn’t an easy thing to do because she had never tried to make a balanced judgement about him before. She’d allowed her prejudices about her father to influence her and that had skewed her view of him. It might help if she tried a more analytical approach, she decided. Listed his good points first then his bad points and compared the two.

  Grace held up her hand and started to tick the good points off on her fingers. Number one had to be the fact that he was a brilliant doctor. Number two that he had proved himself to be a loyal friend by giving up his free time to help Miles. Point number three must be the way he had treated her that night after the accident—kindly and considerately.

  A smile curved her lips because this was easier than she’d feared it would be. She ticked off point number four—he was handsome—and giggled. Maybe it wouldn’t be admissible in a court of law but it was a point in his favour, as was point number five: he was sexy. If she was going to do this properly, she had to consider all the pros as well as all the cons.

  She held up her other hand because she’d run out of fingers by then. Number six—he was charming; number seven—he was good company; number eight—he didn’t take himself too seriously. Number nine could be the fact that he was looking for a proper relationship nowadays instead of just having a good time. And number ten…?

  Grace thought hard but she couldn’t come up with anything else. Still, she’d managed to find nine things she liked about Harry and that in itself was truly remarkable, given how she’d felt about him in the past. Now it was time to balance the good points with the bad but for some reason it was far more difficult to come up with a list of negatives. All she could manage was the fact that Harry reminded her of her father, yet it seemed grossly unfair now to judge him by another man’s actions.

  Why had she clung onto that idea all these years? Why had she never tried to see Harry for who he was—a compassionate, skilful doctor, a loyal and true friend? The fault hadn’t lain with Harry but with herself. She had clung to old prejudices because she’d been afraid to let them go. She’d been too scared to admit that she was attracted to him.

  A tremor passed through her but Grace knew it was time she faced the truth. The thought of falling in love had always terrified her. She had done everything in her power to prevent it happening. She had acted in much the same way that Harry had done, although to a far lesser degree. However, at the back of her mind she had known that the one person who could slip past her defences was Harry. That was why she had fought so hard to drive him away, why she had made herself find things to dislike about him.

  Now everything had changed and she had to find another way to deal with Harry, one that would keep her just as safe. Their relationship may have altered dramatically but the old fears were every bit as strong. She still didn’t intend to risk her heart for any man. Including Harry.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HARRY had supper ready by the time he heard Grace coming down the stairs. He turned as she came into the kitchen, trying to control the leap his heart gave when he saw her. Her hair was damp from her bath, curling softly around her face in wispy little curls. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed again and was wearing a towelling robe over a pair of pyjamas, which had a pattern of kittens printed on them. She looked so young and so vulnerable as she stood there in the doorway that he had to fight down the urge to rush over and take her in his arms. Even though they had agreed to end hostilities, he doubted if she would appreciate such a display of emotion.

  ‘Supper’s just about ready,’ he said, turning back to the stove.

  ‘It smells delicious,’ she said quietly, coming into the room.

  ‘Lamb chops, mashed potatoes and broccoli, plus some hopefully not-too-lumpy gravy.’ He gave her a quick grin, deeming it safer to keep the mood as light as possible. ‘Making gravy is a skill I have yet to acquire, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Do you want me to make it?’ She returned his smile, although he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes seemed to skitter away from his.

  ‘Yes, please,’ he said firmly, hoping to dispel her nervousness about him being there. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel
uncomfortable so he played up his shortcomings for all he was worth. ‘The last time I made gravy I had to slice it up. It was too thick to pour it out of the jug.’

  ‘It sounds disgusting.’ She laughed and he was pleased to hear that some of the strain had disappeared from her voice.

  ‘Believe me, it was.’ He handed her the spoon and moved away from the stove. ‘Right, it’s all yours. Shall I lay the table?’

  ‘Please.’

  She took over the task of making the gravy while he found china and cutlery in the various cupboards and drawers. He laid places for them both at the table then glanced round. ‘All I’m short of now is napkins.’

  ‘They’re in the top left drawer over there.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Harry went over to the drawer and took out two old linen napkins heavily trimmed with lace. ‘These are beautiful,’ he said admiringly, as he placed them on the table. ‘Are they a family heirloom?’

  ‘No. I found them in a flea market when we were in Leeds, doing our postgrad training.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘I can never resist old linen. I have drawers full of stuff which I’ve collected over the years. It’s an addiction of mine, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You could be addicted to worse things.’

  ‘So I keep telling myself every time I’m tempted to add to my collection,’ she retorted drolly, and he laughed.

  ‘Maybe there’s a self-help group you could join,’ he suggested, his tongue very firmly lodged in his cheek.

  ‘Linen lovers anonymous, you mean?’ She immediately latched onto his train of thought and Harry grinned.

  ‘That’s it exactly. I can just imagine you standing up in front of all the other addicts…’

  ‘My name is Grace and I’m addicted to buying old table linen,’ she said on cue.

  He burst out laughing. ‘You’re too good at this! Come on—confess. You’ve been practising, haven’t you?’

  ‘Now, that would be telling.’

  She gave him a broad smile and this time it was Harry who had to look away. As he went to fetch some glasses, he could feel his heart racing. It was the first time that Grace had smiled at him without holding back, and the effect it had had on him was truly amazing. He realised with a sudden rush that he wanted her to do it again, wanted her to smile at him like that all the time. When Grace smiled at him that way, he felt as though he could overcome any obstacles, achieve all his dreams. What was going on? Why did he feel this way? Was it just the relief of being able to behave naturally with her after all the years they had spent fighting?

 

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