by Sarah Morgan
He braced his arm against the door frame, frustrated by the lethargy that threatened to floor him. “I’m not sure I can make it downstairs to eat.”
“No worries. I’ll bring it up on a tray.” She touched his face with her palm, her eyes warm with sympathy. “Do you feel horrid?”
“Yes.” And that was probably a good thing, he thought, or he might have done something he would definitely have regretted later.
The moment she sensed weakness, she lowered the barriers.
It was the only good thing about being ill.
He took a shower and when he walked back into the bedroom she was standing there holding a tray.
“Chair or bed?”
Unable to help himself, he gave her a wicked smile. “Which would you prefer?”
She gave him a look that made him wonder if she’d ever taught kindergarten. “I can walk out anytime and take my soup with me.”
“Bed.” He slid back under the covers and she placed the tray on his legs, the weight of it pressing down through the covers. “Stay and talk. I promise to behave.”
“I have to do my accounts.”
“If you’re prioritizing accounts over me then I’m truly put in my place.”
“I don’t want to do them, but I have to. Honestly, I hate it. I’m not good at it. Fliss is.”
He picked up the spoon. “Then why not let her do it?”
“Because she can do it easily and I can’t.” She said it as if it was obvious.
“Why do something you’re not good at, if it’s a strength of your sister’s?”
“Challenge Harriet.”
“There’s a difference between doing something that scares you, and something that doesn’t play to your skills.” He took a mouthful of soup and closed his eyes. “This is incredible.”
“I’ll pass your compliments to my grandmother.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She has a beautiful beach house in the Hamptons.” She sat down on the chair, but on the edge as if she hadn’t quite decided whether to stay or not. “We used to spend the summer with her. It was my favorite time.”
“Because you love the beach?”
“Because my father wasn’t there.”
He thought about the summers he’d spent with his father, and how much he’d taken the stability of their family life for granted.
“Your childhood was difficult. It’s not surprising you want a peaceful family life now.”
“I’d rather be on my own than with the wrong person. Or someone who doesn’t love you. That’s worse, I think. That’s the situation my parents were in.” A strand of hair slid forward and curved round her cheek. “I wish I’d known a bit more about their situation when I was growing up. It might have helped me understand.”
“You think that excuses your father’s behavior?”
“No. But I think it helps explain it. I used to think it was about me. But now I see it was about him.”
Judging from her unhappy expression, that revelation hadn’t brought her a whole lot of comfort.
“Tell me about summers with your grandmother.”
“It was easy being with her. Grams never minded if my words stuck in my mouth, if I wasn’t fluent. She waited until I’d said whatever it was I wanted to say. With her I felt normal. And summers there were the way I’d always imagined a family should be. Lots of laughter, friendly arguing, no tension. When I was with her, I didn’t feel like the disappointment of the family.”
“That’s how you felt?”
“It was hard not to. Daniel and Fliss were both brilliant at everything. They always had top marks. Fliss used to scribble her assignments on the school bus and she’d get an A every time. I’d work for hours, with help, and still only get a B. I’ve always had to try harder than everyone else.”
“But you didn’t feel like that with your grandmother?”
“She made sure we spent time together. She was the one who taught me to cook. It made me feel special. When you’re a twin, you’re often lumped together as if you’re one person. It’s ‘you girls,’ or ‘the two of you.’ It’s hard to be an individual, particularly when you look identical to someone else.”
“Did the two of you ever switch places and fool people?”
“Occasionally. I’m a terrible liar, so fooling people was never something I was good at.”
He noticed the way she used her hands when she talked, and the way her face lit up when she talked about her grandmother.
There was so much more to Harriet Knight than was visible on first acquaintance.
And he wanted to know more.
“Surely you didn’t only cook in the Hamptons. What happened when you were at home in New York?”
“I spent as much time in my room as I could.”
That revealing statement told him everything he needed to know about her childhood.
It made him want to hold her and wipe out the memories.
“Your grandmother taught you well.” He finished his soup and put the spoon down.
“Can I ask you something?”
It occurred to him that Harriet Knight was the only woman he knew who would seek permission to ask him something that was obviously going to be uncomfortable.
“After making soup like that you can ask me anything.” And because of the shine in her blue eyes, and the way she was looking at him.
“Will you agree to be Santa?”
Of all the questions he’d anticipated, that hadn’t been on the list.
“Why do you care?”
“I think it would be wonderful.”
“Are you offering to dress up as my elf?”
“If you’d like me to.”
“It’s Christmas Day. Don’t you have anything better to do on Christmas Day? Aren’t you seeing your sister? Your brother?”
“Not this year. Daniel is going away with Molly, and Fliss is spending Christmas with Seth’s folks. I’m staying by myself.” She said it brightly, as if she couldn’t imagine anything more exciting than being on her own for the holidays.
He felt a stab of anger. “They didn’t invite you?”
“Oh yes, they invited me. But I’ve never spent a Christmas without them before and I thought I should.”
She’d chosen to spend Christmas on her own? He was trying to understand why someone like her would do a thing like that, when the answer came to him.
“Challenge Harriet?”
“Yes.”
It didn’t sound like a challenge to him. It sounded brutal. “Harriet, this is—” He broke off and started again. “Why deprive yourself of family, when family is so important to you?”
“That’s why.” She stood up. “Because I need to know I can survive by myself.”
Survival sounded like a pretty brutal goal too.
Telling himself it was none of his business, he changed the subject. “My sister is coming tomorrow to pick up Madi. I’m hoping to be back at work.”
“Ethan, you could barely walk to the bathroom.”
“I’ll take a cab to the hospital.”
“I don’t know much about the ER, but I assume the doctors aren’t supposed to be sicker than the patients.”
“I’m improving by the hour. My cough is better. By tomorrow I’ll be fine.”
She opened her mouth as if she intended to argue, and then closed it again. “Great. If you tell me what time I’ll make sure I’m here when they arrive. And I’ll move out after that.”
He had no idea why the prospect of that made him feel disappointed. “No hurry.”
She paused, her hands on the tray, a strand of hair sliding forward. “If Madi isn’t here, why would I stay?”
It was a fair question.
Because his apartment was a whole lot nicer with her in it?
Because having her around lifted his mood?
Because she was gorgeous?
Any one of those replies would have earned him one of her questioning looks, so he didn’t give
voice to any of them.
“All I meant was that you don’t need to rush off. There’s no pressure. I’m grateful for what you’ve done. Move at your convenience.”
“Right.” She straightened and picked up his tray without looking at him. “I’ll do that.”
MONDAY MORNING CAME too quickly.
Harriet packed her things into her case with the same absence of enthusiasm she’d felt when she’d packed to come here, which made no sense. She’d moved in as a favor to a client and for Madi. Her services were no longer needed.
Crazy as it was to admit it, she’d enjoyed the weekend. Crazy and a little selfish maybe, because Ethan had been sick. There had been something comforting about being just the two of them, closeted in his apartment while snow fell outside the window. It was as if they’d stepped out of their lives for a moment and inhabited a different world.
She was disappointed that it was over. She’d enjoyed the quietness of it, the coziness.
Oh who was she kidding?
She’d also enjoyed spending all that time with him. She’d enjoyed their conversation, those shared glances, the way it felt when his fingers brushed against hers and the way his gaze followed her round the room.
And then there was that moment when he’d leaned on her a little too heavily. She’d been convinced he was about to kiss her, but he hadn’t.
Why?
She zipped her case with so much vigor she almost broke it.
A man like Ethan Black didn’t hang around asking for permission. If he’d wanted to kiss her he would have done it.
She wished he had.
“Ugh.” Cross with herself, she hauled her suitcase to the door.
She’d come here to do a job, and she’d done that job.
Time to go home.
Time to get on with her real life. Not her dream life.
She was going to miss Madi. The dog was adorable. Bouncy, fun and endlessly affectionate.
But most of all she was going to miss Ethan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“SO WHAT’S GOING ON?” Susan rested her hips against the desk as Ethan studied the scan in front of him.
“He’s had a bleed—” Ethan pointed at it with his pen but she shook her head.
“I meant with you.”
“Me?” Dragging his gaze from the scan, he turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“You seem different.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair. “Different? In what way am I different? I had the flu. I may have lost weight.”
“You poor, pathetic baby. No, it’s not that. You’re more relaxed. More like the old Ethan.”
“There was an old Ethan?” That was news to him.
“When I first met you, you were fun. Occasionally you even made me laugh. Lately you’ve gotten more serious.”
“You may not have noticed, but this is a serious job we do here. Life and death. That kind of thing.”
“All the more reason to enjoy the life part. So come on.” She nudged him so violently he wondered if he should be concerned about internal injuries.
“Come on, what?”
“Tell me the truth. It’s Harriet, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“The reason you’re suddenly mellow. She has softened all your rough edges. Living with her is good for you.”
“I’m not living with her.”
“Are you sure about that? Because last time I called by your apartment she had her things in the room next to yours. And she was mopping your fevered brow and looking like she gave a damn whether you lived or died.”
“She was dog sitting.”
“Right. Now you mention it, I remember seeing a dog.” Susan folded her arms. “Cute little black-and-white spaniel. But you seemed to be the one getting all the attention.”
“I was sick.”
“Yeah, well you won’t find me arguing with that.”
“She moved out a week ago.”
“That is a damn shame.” She leaned toward him. “Listen carefully, Dr. Hot, because I’m about to tell you something for free. Any woman who doesn’t want to kill a man when he’s sick is a keeper.”
“Maybe she did want to kill me. Can we maybe talk about something—”
“No. We’re talking about this. Why did she move out?”
“Because my sister came and collected Madi.”
“Madi?” Susan frowned. “Who the hell is Madi? Oh, you mean the dog?”
“Do not call her ‘the dog’ in front of Harriet,” Ethan muttered and Susan grinned.
“She really has whipped you into shape. So the dog left, and you let Harriet leave too.”
“I’ve told you—she was there as dog sitter. Without a dog to sit with, there wasn’t much of a reason for her to stay.”
“And you couldn’t think of a reason? What has happened to your brain?”
“My brain is good, thank you. She has her own home. Her own life.”
Susan shook her head. “Your lack of creativity is depressing. Have you called her since she moved out?”
“Why would I call her?” He’d intended to take her on a date, but then he’d gone down with the flu. And it wouldn’t have been a real date anyway. He’d been offering to do her a favor, that was all. Help her out, to make up for all the help she’d given him.
He ignored the small side of him that said he was lying to himself. That dinner with Harriet would have been a really good way to spend an evening.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t eaten dinner with her before. They’d eaten together most nights when he was home in time. Admittedly it had been casual, sitting at the kitchen island, chatting about what had happened during their day. No romantic lighting or dressing up. But he’d enjoyed it. In fact he’d enjoyed being with Harriet more than he could remember being with anyone in a long time.
There was something calming about her.
“To say thank you, to check how she’s doing, to ask her to dinner—I don’t know. You’re the man with the reputation with women, although clearly that reputation is not well deserved if you let her get away from you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gorgeous girl, right there in your apartment, mopping your fevered brow, and you didn’t ravish her?”
“Ravish? What sort of word is ravish? It might have escaped your notice but I had trouble dragging myself to the bathroom for the first forty-eight hours. Ravishing anyone was beyond my capabilities.” But he’d thought about it.
“Feeble,” Susan muttered, visibly disgusted with his lack of motivation. “I really liked her, Ethan. I liked Alison, but the two of you together were just so wrong it was painful to watch. Not that I’m an expert, but if everyone on the planet had died of a hideous plague and you were the only two left, I would have suggested you both occupy different continents. You and Alison used to stand there comparing schedules. It made my unromantic heart break watching you. Now Harriet—” she lingered over the name “—she’s totally different. I don’t have many girlfriends. Don’t have the time but if I had one, I’d pick someone like Harriet. Fun, loyal, kind, great cook. And this is the part I don’t get—she moves into your house, takes care of your dog, generally improves your quality of life and then you wave her goodbye without even giving her the kiss of life?”
“She left my apartment conscious and breathing. She didn’t need the kiss of life.”
“For a smart guy, you’re stupid when it comes to women.”
“Knowing I’m not the right guy for her doesn’t make me stupid.”
But who would be? Not Eric, it seemed. Or Charlton. And how was she going to meet the right guy? She’d admitted she was giving up on internet dating, so what was she going to do? Hope to bump into someone in the park? It didn’t sound like a reliable strategy to him, especially for someone who was shy with people she didn’t know.
He thought about that first evening, when she’d stammered her way through their first encounter, and then remembered subsequent
evenings when she’d been confident and comfortable.
All she needed to do was find a way to get through those few awkward hours when you first met someone. Once she relaxed, she had no problem. And he’d intended to help her with that part. He was the master of keeping things superficial. He could keep conversation skimming across the water like a hovercraft, never delving deeper. He preferred it that way.
Susan was scowling at him. “What makes you think you’re not the right guy?”
“Harriet deserves the best.”
“Jeez, Black.” She studied him for a moment. “I can’t believe the stuff you tell yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you say ‘she deserves the best,’ what you’re really saying is ‘she and I could be good together and that scares the shit out of me so I’m going to do that man thing of pretending it isn’t happening and hope it all goes away.’”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“No? Then call her up.”
“Why would I call her up?”
“Because it would be the smart move, and you’re supposed to be smart. Unless I’m right about you being scared. Unless you’re afraid you might actually fall for her, because that would be awkward, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
He frowned. “Maybe I don’t want to hurt her. She’s the type of person who spends her life looking after vulnerable creatures.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t make her vulnerable herself. Does she seem like a fragile flower? I don’t think so. She can make up her own mind about whether you’re trouble or not. Let her decide if you’re worth taking a risk over.”
Ethan thought about what he knew about her childhood. No, she certainly wasn’t a delicate flower. But she had been hurt. And he disagreed that she wasn’t vulnerable. He suspected she was extremely vulnerable. “She’s a good, decent person.”
“Right. But that doesn’t make her weak, you butthead. What are you saying? You’d rather date someone bad and indecent?”
Ethan grasped the opportunity to change the subject. “Now you mention it, that does sound like fun.” He broke off as a nurse hurried across to him.