by Sarah Morgan
‘Hayley, could you please try not to—?’
‘You think I’m pregnant!’ She backed away from him, so agitated that her breath came in uneven jerks. ‘Is that why you think I’m here? Because I’m pregnant?’
How many times did she have to say the word?
‘Yes, of course. Why else…?’ His voice tailed off as he registered the shock on her face.
‘Why would you think I was pregnant?’ Her tone made it obvious that he’d made the wrong assumption and Patrick pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, wishing he’d broached the subject differently.
‘It was a shock to see you on my doorstep. I just assumed—’
‘I didn’t know it was your doorstep! And what did you assume? That the only reason I’d come to find you is because I was pregnant?’ She made a distressed sound and started to pace around his kitchen, breathing so rapidly that Patrick eyed her with concern.
‘You’re hyperventilating, Hayley, and—’
‘I am not hyperventilating,’ she gasped, her hand pressed to her chest. ‘I’m trying to control my emotions. It’s all down to the breathing.’
‘Right.’ He watched her carefully, sure that she must be making herself dizzy. ‘But you’re breathing a bit fast. I’m a doctor, and I can see that you—’
‘Oh, shut up, Patrick!’ She groaned his name and turned away, digging her fingers into her hair and shaking her head in disbelief. Then she took a long deep breath and let her hands drop, as if she’d come to a decision. ‘All right, I’m going to make a really big effort to think the way you seem to think. So—the sequence of events goes like this. Boy meets girl, boy sleeps with girl who conveniently lives in a foreign country so boy is never going to see her again, girl turns up on doorstep—girl must be pregnant.’ She looked at him. ‘That’s what you’re thinking?’
Given that that was exactly what he was thinking, Patrick didn’t utter a denial and she made a faint sound in her throat.
‘So, still thinking like you—although I have to confess that’s a challenge—presumably the next demand I’m going to make is for money, is that right? Or marriage. Oh, God, now I understand your remark about married men being unable to give me what I want. Is that why you think I’m here? Because I’m looking for a meal ticket? God, that’s truly awful.’ She plopped back down on the nearest chair, as if her legs couldn’t be trusted to hold her. ‘You’d get on really well with my stepbrothers. They think life is all about money and using people, too.’
Feeling the situation spinning out of control, Patrick intervened. ‘Judging from your reaction, I assume I’m wrong.’
Her breathing still far too rapid, she stared sightlessly at a spot on his kitchen floor. ‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘You’re wrong. Of course you’re wrong. I haven’t even missed a period, for goodness’ sake.’ She broke off, her face scarlet, and Patrick sighed.
‘You don’t have to be embarrassed,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m an obstetrician.’
‘I know you’re an obstetrician!’ She squirmed in her seat, the look she flung him suggesting she wished he was in a different profession. ‘Is that why your mind went off on that track? Because you’re obsessed with babies?’
He took a deep breath, thinking of what had happened with Carly. ‘It just seemed…possible. But obviously I was wrong.’
‘Yes. You’re wrong. And so was I. About a lot of things.’
He wasn’t sure he wanted to explore that final cryptic remark, sensing that he might find the translation more than a little uncomfortable to hear.
The fact that she wasn’t pregnant should have filled him with relief but instead he felt nothing but concern. She looked shocked and horribly pale and the bulk of his coat made her seem even more fragile.
Patrick suddenly realised that this was the first time he’d seen her without a smile on her face. In the short time they’d spent together, she’d smiled constantly. In fact, it had been her warm, engaging smile that had attracted him to her in the first place. He’d wanted to press his mouth to that smile and taste the happiness she exuded.
But her smile had gone and he knew that he was the reason the light had gone out inside her. She was right. He was insensitive.
‘Hayley—I owe you an apology.’ He tried to redeem himself. ‘Can we start this conversation again?’
‘I don’t think so. It was bad enough the first time.’ She gave a tiny, hysterical laugh. ‘Now I know why other people have one-night stands—so that they can maintain the illusion about the person they were with.’ Her hand shaking, she dragged her phone out of her pocket. ‘I’m leaving now and I don’t want you to stop me. The children aren’t watching so you don’t have to be polite.’
Patrick’s analytical mind was computing the data at his disposal. ‘But if you’re not pregnant—’
‘If you say that word again, I might just punch you.’ She dialled a number, her fingers shaking. Then she lifted the phone to her ear.
‘I just want to know why you came here.’ Suddenly it was imperative to find that out. ‘I want to understand why you came to see me.’
Her disparaging glance suggested that the answer was obvious. ‘Because we had an amazing night, and the way you kiss might just possibly be the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you seem to know more about my body than I do and although I actually did leave my knickers in your bedroom that night I—Hello, Jack?’ She turned scarlet. ‘No, no. It’s me, Hayley—No, I didn’t leave anything in the cab, that isn’t what I meant—Well, I’m wearing them. I was talking to someone else—Well, no, not really.’
Resisting the impulse to smile, Patrick leaned forward and removed the phone from her hand. ‘She just rang to wish you Merry Christmas, Jack,’ he said smoothly, holding the phone to his ear. ‘Thanks for delivering her safely. Great.’ He held the phone out of reach as Hayley made a grab for it. ‘Yes, and you, too.’ He snapped the phone shut, his eyes on her face. ‘Where were we? Oh, yes, you’d left your knickers in my bedroom and you were telling me that I’m an amazing kisser and that I seem to know more about your body than you do…’
‘Don’t get big-headed,’ she warned darkly. ‘I’ve realised that the reason you know more about my body than I do is because you’ve been trained—so it isn’t a special skill. Actually, it’s more like cheating.’
Still keeping the phone out of her reach, Patrick raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s cheating to know what turns you on?’
‘Yes, because you sort of have an unfair advantage.’ She eyed the phone in his hand. ‘You spend your days with women.’
‘Delivering their babies,’ Patrick pointed out mildly, sliding the phone into his back pocket. ‘And I can assure you that when I’m delivering babies, I’m not thinking about sex.’
‘Well, you obviously know everything there is to know about…’ Her face hot, she shifted in her chair. ‘Oh, never mind. It’s my fault for getting involved with an obstetrician. I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation. I should never have come in, but I didn’t want to upset your sweet, lovely son who, by the way, is far too nice to have a disreputable father like you.’
Smiling, Patrick reached down and hauled her to her feet, tightening his grip on her arms when she tried to wriggle away. After a few seconds he sucked in a breath. ‘Actually, Hayley…’ His voice was tight. ‘You’d better not do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘Wriggle.’
‘Well don’t hold me, then.’
‘I have to hold you,’ he gritted, ‘or you’ll make it worse.’
‘Make what worse?’
‘My—er, problem.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered. ‘I have a rampant sex drive, remember? And you’re…very attractive. And moving against certain parts of me…’
She froze like a child playing musical statues. ‘Give me my phone back.’
‘You can move your lips,’ Patrick said dryly. ‘That isn’t the part of you that’s causing me a problem.’
Her eyes threatened him. ‘My phone.’
‘No.’ He gently removed the coat from her shoulders and dropped it over the chair. Then he stroked her hair away from her face.
She tensed like a cat. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He gave a slow smile. ‘You said that kissing me was the best experience of your life.’
‘That was before I knew the truth about you.’ But her breathing quickened and he felt the chemistry flash between them.
‘I didn’t deceive you, Hayley. There was nothing dishonest about that night we spent together. I want to clear up that misunderstanding right now.’
Outside his kitchen the snow fell, dusting the window with soft white flakes.
Inside, the only sound was the slow jerk of her breathing and his own heartbeat as he struggled to control his shockingly powerful reaction.
Still not moving a muscle, her eyes were locked with his. ‘You didn’t tell me about your children. How could you not mention your children?’
‘As I said, because that night was about you and me,’ he said softly, sliding his fingers slowly through her hair. ‘No one else.’
She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. ‘Stop it. Stop touching me like that.’
‘No.’ His eyes slid to a shiny curl that had wrapped itself around his fingers. ‘You’re beautiful, Hayley.’
‘You can’t talk your way out of this, Patrick,’ she whispered, and he lowered his head slowly.
‘All right.’ He murmured the words against her mouth, his body on fire. ‘No talking. But that rule has to include you, too. And just to help you out…’
She gave a low moan and her lips parted against his. It was like being burned at the stake and Patrick’s mind went blank.
And then she gave him a hard shove.
‘No!’ She backed away, her expression one of self-disgust, one hand raised, warning him to keep his distance. ‘And you’re not to do that again without warning me!’
Shaken by the erotic ache in his loins, Patrick hooked his thumbs into his front pockets to ease the pressure on his jeans. ‘You want me to warn you when I’m intending to kiss you?’
‘Yes. I need to prepare myself.’
Sensing that if he smiled he’d be in even greater trouble, he kept his expression deadpan. ‘How much warning do you need? I mean, just so that I know. Are we talking seconds? Minutes?’
‘Actually, forget it.’ Visibly flustered, she pressed her fingers to her forehead. ‘Just don’t kiss me again, all right? Not unless you can learn to do it badly.’
‘Could you define “badly”?’ Patrick, who was feeling extremely bad, suspected he might have already qualified.
‘Bad as in yucky.’ Her glance was exasperated. ‘The sort of kiss that makes you shudder and reach for a hairdryer. You know the sort!’
‘I don’t think I do.’
‘Are you laughing at me again?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You are laughing at me!’
‘All right, maybe,’ he conceded, ‘but in a good way.’
‘There is no good way to mock someone.’
His amusement faded. ‘I’m not mocking you. I’m complimenting you. You…surprise me. I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.’
‘An embarrassing disaster, you mean? You don’t need to point out that you’re used to women who are far more sophisticated,’ she mumbled, ‘but you’re not perfect either. Well, apart from the whole kissing thing, which you’re actually pretty good at. And the…’ She waved a hand. ‘Well, you know. But there’s plenty wrong with you. The worst of it being your very suspicious nature and your tendency towards the negative. I still can’t believe you assumed I was pregnant. I mean, that has to be the most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard. What on earth would make you think that?’
‘Hayley…’ Trying to think cold thoughts to relieve the throbbing ache in his body, Patrick tried to focus on the conversation and not her mouth. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. I assumed that only the direst emergency would bring you to my doorstep in weather like this when everyone is decorating Christmas trees and preparing cranberry sauce.’
‘I didn’t know this was your doorstep.’
‘But you came to Cumbria to find me.’ He watched as the colour deepened in her cheeks. ‘Unless I misunderstand what’s going on here, you took this job because it would give you somewhere to stay over Christmas. And then you planned to track me down.’
‘I’ve already told you, that was before I knew the real you.’ Despite the bravado, he noticed that she was careful to keep a safe distance from him. As if she didn’t trust herself.
‘So you came all this way to find me.’
‘Could you stop rubbing it in?’
‘And now you’re planning to leave.’
‘Yes.’
‘That isn’t logical, Hayley.’
‘Yes, well, logic doesn’t have to be the basis for every decision.’
‘Have you given any thought to where you’re going to go?’
‘No. Somewhere…’ She gave a defensive shrug. ‘Somewhere nice. With a big Christmas tree. And very possibly a log fire.’
‘We have a big tree here. And a log fire.’
‘Somewhere with a big tree and a log fire where you don’t live.’
‘Hayley, it’s Christmas Eve,’ he said gently. ‘“Somewhere”’ generally needs to be booked a good six months in advance.’
‘Then I’ll take a train down to London or something.’
The thought of her sitting on a lonely, empty railway platform sent a chill down his spine. ‘You answered the advert for a housekeeper—’
‘That was before I knew this was your house.’
Feeling like a monster, Patrick sighed. ‘I know I’ve made a bad impression but why don’t we just start again, Hayley?’
‘Again? Which part do you want to live through again?’ Her expression was horrified. ‘The part where I discover you have two children or the part where you assume that the only reason I’ve tracked you down is because I’m pregnant? Believe me, the whole thing was bad enough the first time. I’m not up for a repeat.’
Despite her flippant tone it was obvious that he’d offended her deeply and he was surprised to discover he felt ashamed. ‘Hayley, in my defence, girls don’t travel over six thousand miles to see a man they met just once unless—’
‘Unless what? Unless they’re pregnant and looking for a meal ticket? Was that what you were going to say? Just for the record, if I had been pregnant, I probably wouldn’t even have told you.’
Patrick felt the sudden tension in his spine. ‘You wouldn’t?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice rose. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t think I’m against marriage, because I’m not. But I think getting married just because you’re having a baby is decidedly dodgy. Frankly I wish my mum hadn’t married my stepdad. I often think we would have been happier just the two of us. The things is, you never really know, do you?’ The information spilled from her like water from a fountain. ‘I mean, if pregnancy was the reason for marriage, how would you ever know if that person loved you enough? You’d always wonder.’
As someone who had found himself in exactly that position, Patrick stared at her, unable to think of a suitable response.
‘What’s wrong now?’ Her expression was exasperated. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
‘No. I’m just…surprised, again.’ Patrick looked at her curiously, envying her ability to reveal intimate details of her life so unselfconsciously. ‘You don’t have any difficulty talking about private things, do you?’
‘The reason most people don’t talk about private things is because they’re afraid of looking foolish or being judged, but I’m used to looking foolish and being judged.’ She gave a little shrug that told him a great deal about her self-esteem. Or lack of it.
‘Hayley—’
‘You thought I was tracking you down because I needed money, didn’t you?’ She recoil
ed slightly. ‘Why does everyone think that life has to be about money? Give me my phone.’ Catching him off guard, she reached out and snatched the phone from his back pocket, her face scarlet as she stuffed it in her bag. ‘I’ll call a taxi from the road. A different taxi, obviously, given that Jack now knows everything there is to know about my sex life and even I don’t feel comfortable getting in a cab with a stranger who knows that I once left my knickers in a man’s bedroom. Go back to your children, Patrick, and have a good Christmas.’ Sliding her bag onto her shoulder, she walked towards the door, but Patrick was before her, blocking the door, feeling as though he’d failed a test he hadn’t even known he’d been taking.
She’d come all this way to see him again.
‘Hayley.’ His hand closed around her wrist and he felt the instant charge of electricity that had connected them from the first moment—felt the pulse thrumming under her fingers. ‘Wait. You left your job in the States to track me down?’
People didn’t do that, did they? They didn’t throw away a life they had for a life that they might have.
She stilled, blinked several times and for a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was thick. Clogged. ‘That’s what I did. It’s called being impulsive. Or stupid. Can I ask you something?’
‘Go on.’
‘What would you have done if I hadn’t left that morning?’
Patrick stared down at her, the tension throbbing between them. Then he gave a slow smile, watching with masculine satisfaction as the colour in her cheeks darkened. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I would have done that.’
‘I meant—would you have wanted to see me again?’
He sensed that it took her a lot of courage to ask the question. ‘Yes. But it wasn’t an option. I didn’t want the job in Chicago and I wouldn’t have asked you to come to Cumbria. As far as I could see, our relationship had no future.’ He inhaled sharply. ‘OK, I’m giving you a ten-second warning.’
‘About what?’
‘Five seconds.’ His head lowered towards hers. ‘Stay, Hayley. You answered an advert for a housekeeper. I need a housekeeper.’