by Sarah Morgan
‘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 som
ething 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 recoiled 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.’
And he wasn’t going to let her leave.
‘You didn’t advertise for a housekeeper.’
‘I would have done if I’d thought of it.’ He pressed her up against the door, his mouth only a breath away from hers, ‘I know you’re angry with me. I know I’ve upset you. But that doesn’t change what happened. There was nothing false about the night we spent together. Nothing.’ He saw her breathing quicken, saw her gaze flicker briefly to his as the charge between them heated to dangerous levels. And then she looked away, as if it was the only way she could keep her sanity.
‘As you keep telling me, it was a one-night stand.’ Her eyes were fixed on one of Posy’s childish drawings, haphazardly stuck to the kitchen wall. ‘I should have left it at that.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t.’
She looked at him cautiously. ‘I’ve never had a one-night stand before.’
‘I know. I could tell.’ Seeing her eyes widen, he gave a faint smile. ‘That was why you ran off in the morning—you were embarrassed. And panicking. And thinking, What have I done? I wish I’d woken up. I would have stopped you.’
‘Why didn’t you mention your children, Patrick?’ Even though they were alone in the room, she whispered the words. ‘It isn’t as if you didn’t have the chance. We had dinner together. We talked.’
The chemistry between them was so intense he could taste it. ‘Because for one night of my life I wasn’t someone’s father, or someone’s doctor, or someone’s boss,’ Patrick said huskily. ‘I was a man, enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. It was about you and me, Hayley. Nothing else. No one else. And now it’s my turn. If I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?’ He slid his hand behind her head, his eyes locked with hers.
‘What?’
He gave a slow smile. ‘Can you really cook a turkey?’
She stared up at him and then gave a reluctant laugh. ‘That’s what you want to ask me? Can I cook a turkey?’
‘It’s very important to me,’ Patrick murmured, his eyes dropping to her mouth. ‘You have no idea how appalling untalented I am in the kitchen.’
‘Don’t worry about it. You’re good in other rooms of the house.’ Although her tone was mocking, the humour was back in her eyes.
‘But that isn’t going to help cook a turkey—unless we use a hairdryer. Stay, Hayley.’
She laughed but then gave a little shake of her head. ‘I can’t. We both know that would not be a good idea.’ But he sensed her indecision and jumped on it with ruthless determination.
‘If you’d ever tasted my Christmas dinner, you’d know it’s an excellent idea.’
‘I’m talking about the rest of it. I came here looking for the man I spent that night with but…’ she took a breath ‘…you’re not that man, Patrick. You have children. Responsibilities.’
Her opinion of him had clearly plummeted and he couldn’t blame her for that. So far he’d made a mess of their meeting. ‘I won’t hurt my children, Hayley, that’s true. They’ve been through enough because of me.’
‘And that’s a good enough reason for me not to stay, Patrick. It would be unfair on them. You obviously don’t want them to know about us and I understand that.’
‘This house has five large bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. You’d have space and privacy, somewhere warm and cosy to spend Christmas. A large tree and a log fire. Isn’t that what you wanted?’ It hadn’t escaped him that she’d taken a job with a family. ‘Alfie is so excited about you being here. He thinks Christmas lunch might be edible for once.’
‘But—’
‘Please, Hayley.’ His voice was smooth and persuasive. ‘I know I’ve made a mess of this and I know I’ve upset you. Yes, I was shocked to see you at first but…I really want you to stay. No strings. My son put an advert in the paper and you accepted the job. The job is yours. No more, no less. As for the rest of it, well…’ He was standing so close to her that he could smell the floral fragrance of her shampoo mingling with the rose of her perfume. His senses communicated her scent to his libido and he was just deciding whether his previous warning counted when the door moved.
Reacting quickly, Patrick shifted Hayley out of range and stepped back just as Alfie came charging into the kitchen, almost knocking into both of them.
‘Dad, Posy’s had an accident and the delivery van from the supermarket is at the door.’
Chapter Three
HAYLEY held a packet of frozen peas against the little girl’s leg, watching as Patrick soothed the child.
He was calm and concerned, his fingers gentle as he checked the joint. ‘She’s all right, Alfie—no permanent damage.’
Alfie was hovering anxiously. ‘She banged herself really hard, Dad.’
‘I’m sure she’ll have a bruise, but nothing more.’
Hayley wondered whether she should borrow the frozen peas for her own bruises. Not the external ones—those would heal by themselves—but the internal ones. The ones caused by the realisation that their steamy night had been nothing more than sex for him.
It hadn’t been a romantic encounter.
It hadn’t been special, or earth-shattering.
It had simply been an opportunity for him to do what any red-bloode
d male would do in the same circumstances.
What had he said?
For one night I was a man, not a father.
But now he was a father again. And you didn’t need a degree in psychology to see that his role as a parent was his first priority.
Hayley was trying really hard to hate him but it was impossible. How did you hate a man who clearly cared for his children so much? She found herself wondering exactly what had happened with his wife. If she were lucky enough to be married to a man like Patrick, she would have found a way to make the marriage work.
‘How’s that leg, Posy?’ He stroked his daughter’s hair gently and she buried her face in his chest.
‘Uncle Daniel fix it.’
Patrick gave an amused smile. ‘There isn’t anything for
him to fix. You’ll be fine.’ Catching Hayley’s questioning look, he offered an explanation. ‘My twin brother is a consultant in the accident and emergency department.’
‘You have a twin? Identical?’
‘We look similar but that’s where the resemblance ends.’
‘That’s not true.’ Alfie dived in. ‘You both have big muscles. And you were both in the mountain rescue team.’
Patrick shifted Posy slightly. ‘That’s right. We were.’
‘You could still do it.’ Alfie picked up Posy’s velvet comforter and sneaked it into his sister’s hand. ‘We wouldn’t mind, would we, Pose? We’d be OK here. I’m almost old enough to look after you.’
Posy grinned at her brother but showed no sign of relinquishing her grip on her dad. There was something about the sight of the young child clinging to her father that brought a lump to Hayley’s throat.
Oh, great.
She was going to embarrass herself yet again.
And just because the guy was patient and kind to his daughter. Really, she needed to get out more.
So he was good with kids—so what?
Plenty of men were good with kids.
It was just that Patrick managed to do it in a way that didn’t diminish his masculinity. His hands were firm. Sure. He had a quiet confidence that soothed the child as much as his calm voice.