by Maggie Cox
‘...and you’ll need to consult with Hal’s doctor today, when you take him to the hospital for his check-up, to get some advice on how best to help him.’ Sam’s voice carried clearly as she and Kit came down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘His knee joint and muscles were damaged when he broke his femur, and there’s a certain process you have to know. Don’t worry—it’s not difficult. I think it’s called the RICE technique, which stands for—’
‘Rest, ice, compression and elevation,’ Kit cut in quietly. ‘I’ve been studying quite a comprehensive first-aid book since I was told that Mr Treverne had a broken femur. I’ve also spoken to one of my trainers at the centre where I took my first-aid courses.’
She’d been studying a first-aid book? Even though he was irritated at being discussed as though he were a recalcitrant schoolboy who’d complained about having to miss his school’s sports day because he’d contracted chicken pox, Hal owned to feeling mildly surprised that his temporary employee would go to such lengths even before she knew if she had the job or not.
‘I’m impressed.’ Sam’s voice contained the suggestion of a smile.
‘Please don’t be. My intention is simply to do a good job. It’s no more than I would normally do when the person I’ve been hired to help is either recovering from an illness or an injury, Ms Whyte.’
‘Please—call me Sam. At any rate, I’ve spoken to Hal’s consultant about talking to you, so he’s expecting you to ask.’ They came into the kitchen. ‘You can also check with the nurse who comes in once a week to visit him. Oh, and one more thing—there’s also a cleaner who comes in twice a week to give the place a good going over. Mrs Baker is her name. So you won’t have to spend too much time doing housework. My brother’s welfare is your main priority. If he wants you to spend the entire day watching films or listening to music with him, then please don’t hesitate.’
‘Are you quite finished? Only I’m beginning to feel like some expendable extra in a hospital soap opera!’ Scowling, Hal returned his mug of coffee to the table with a heavy slam, so that the now tepid beverage slopped over the lip and splashed onto his arm.
Without preamble, Kit moved across to the sink at lightning speed and grabbed the kitchen cloth that was folded over the tap. Then she hurried over to him, expertly dabbing the cloth on his exposed forearm and drying the spill. It was fortunate that he’d rolled up the sleeves of his cashmere sweater earlier, he thought wryly, because the blue was a favourite of his. But he guessed that, if required, his efficient new helper would no doubt have a handy solution for removing coffee stains from delicate fabrics too.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured when she had finished the clean-up.
‘You’re welcome.’
Her blue-eyed smile was fleeting, but with a jolt of surprise Hal straight away intuited that when she smiled properly—for instance when and if something pleased her—the gesture would light up her face and render her almost bewitching...
‘Can I make you a fresh cup of coffee, Mr Treverne?’ she asked.
Briefly catching his sister’s amused glance over her shoulder, Hal shrugged. ‘Yes—why not? I guess I’ll be even more like a bear with a sore head if I don’t have my usual quota of caffeine.’
‘How do you take it?’
‘Black with one sugar. You should make one for yourself too.’
‘Thanks—I will. By the way, what time do you need to get to the hospital for your appointment?’
‘Ten o’clock.’
‘Of course. I remember that now.’ The redhead gave him another fleeting smile. ‘That gives us some time to have a general chat about things. For instance, you’ll need to tell me what car I’m driving. Is it big enough to accommodate your wheelchair? Because if you’re not used to using your crutches yet you’re going to need it.’
Not wanting to contemplate the possibility of not being immediately expert at using crutches, Hal was terse. ‘If it should transpire that I need the wheelchair—and I very much doubt it—then no doubt the hospital will supply one for my visit. The car you’ll be driving me to my appointment in has plenty of leg room and is easy to drive...that is as long as you’re a good driver?’
Again, if he’d thought to disconcert Kit then he was disappointed. With a confident toss of her head she moved over to the coffee machine and threw over her shoulder, ‘I took my advanced driving test last year and passed with flying colours...so you can rest assured that I’m a good driver, Mr Treverne.’
‘I thought we’d agreed you could call me Hal?’
‘Do you mind if I call you Henry instead? Only using your friends’ name for you sounds a little too over-familiar.’
Seeing the lightly mocking glint in his sister’s eyes, Hal inwardly squirmed. No doubt his clever sister was thinking he’d met his match in the redoubtable Kit Blessington. But he would make it his mission to prove her wrong...see if he didn’t!
‘Well.’ Sam leant down and dropped an affectionate peck on his cheek. ‘I’ll be off now. I’ll leave you to the tender ministrations of Ms Blessington.’ Her mouth curved into a satisfied and humorous grin.
‘I’m not looking for her ministrations to be “tender”,’ he snapped. ‘A decent level of competence will be enough.’
‘A typical Hal response,’ his sister remarked cheerily, winking at the other woman as she transported a mug of fresh coffee over to her brother. ‘By the way, Kit, if you need me for anything...anything at all...you’ll find my phone numbers on the noticeboard in Hal’s study. You’ll find that just to the side of a poster of the latest scantily clad supermodel. Look after him for me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
Unable to suppress a grin at his sister’s amusing parting shot, Hal murmured, ‘Bye, sis. Go easy with those wounded patients of yours, won’t you?’
‘What a lovely woman,’ Kit remarked when Sam had departed.
‘She is.’ As he tunnelled his long fingers through hair that hadn’t seen a comb for more days than he cared to mention, Hal’s smile was unrestrained. ‘I agree. She’s certainly one in a million.’
Momentarily dazzled by the twinkling hazel eyes and curved masculine mouth before her, Kit shrugged off her heavy jacket and arranged it on the back of one of the shaker-style dining chairs positioned around the table. Then she curled a stray strand of copper hair round her ear and in a brisk but friendly tone asked, ‘Shall I help you get to grips with your walking aids now? We’ve got some spare time for you to practise before we leave for the hospital.’
Even though his smile had all but made her catch her breath she hadn’t missed the fact that her employer’s skin looked almost grey with tiredness, and her heart couldn’t help but go out to him. More importantly, she reminded herself, she was there to do a job and help ease his burden and she was anxious to make a start.
‘Wouldn’t you like to take your luggage to your room first and unpack?’
Touched by his unexpected thoughtfulness, Kit shook her head.
‘I can do that later. I’d rather help you first.’
Underneath what she guessed was a complexion that was far paler than usual, Hal flushed visibly.
‘Crutches it is, then. You do realise you’re going to have to let me lean on you a little while I get my balance?’
‘That won’t be a problem. I assure you that I’m much stronger than I look.’
‘Why did I know you’d say that?’
For a second time Henry Treverne’s devastating smile came very close to turning Kit’s knees to water. She fervently reminded herself to be on her guard round that killer smile. It would be extremely foolish to trust it. Once before she’d been beguiled by the smile of a handsome man and against her better judgement, had fallen into a brief affair with him. When the man in question had turned out to be married, Kit had been devastated. Not just because he had lied to
her about being free, but because it had struck at the very core of her ability to trust herself. There’d been no excuse. After seeing what her mother had gone through with mendacious faithless men she ought to have known better. One thing was certain: she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice...
Assuming the best ‘head girl’ tone she could muster, she said firmly to Hal, ‘Well, I suppose we’d better get on with it, then.’
* * *
There was no disputing her new employer’s indomitable spirit, Kit mused as, with her help, Henry carefully lowered himself onto a comfortable padded seat in the plush waiting room. But neither had it been hard to detect his frustration at not being able to master the use of his walking aids as smoothly and as effortlessly as he might have wished. Once again the sweat that had broken out on his brow had illustrated the effort it had taken him to get this far. They’d only walked the short distance from the car park, but it had clearly been a struggle for Hal. It made her even more determined to help him achieve the goal of being confident with the aids.
Leaning towards him, Kit freed his hands from holding the crutches and carefully leaned them against the wall behind him.
‘You’d better go and tell the receptionist that I’m here.’
The sudden command sounded like a snarl of anger and resentment—a bit like a wounded animal. But she wasn’t about to take Hal’s surly mood personally. In her time working for the agency she’d encountered several ‘tricky’ customers and had soon learned how best to handle them. People were dealing with all kinds of challenges. Not just physical and mental ones, but also more commonplace dilemmas, like bereavement and loneliness and sometimes the heartache caused by a failed relationship.
Even though her mother had tested her patience to the nth degree, Kit was a naturally compassionate person, and it helped her more easily cope with the frayed tempers and impatience of some of the clients she cared for and not let their volatile reactions undermine her.
‘Okay, I’ll go and get you booked in. Do you have a patient card or a letter with your hospital number on?’
Hal sucked in a breath and blew it out again, as if even more exasperated. His eyes glinted, warning her that his temper was hanging by the slimmest of threads.
‘Why? Do you think they don’t know who I am?’ he snapped.
Mentally taking a deep breath of her own, Kit said calmly, ‘I’m sure the Queen herself has a patient number, and everybody knows who she is.’
‘Never mind the backchat, Ms Blessington. Just go and tell them I’m here, will you?’
Had she imagined it or had that handsome carved mouth of his twitched ever so slightly with amusement? Acutely aware of the pretty young receptionist, who was gazing across the room at Hal as though he were some sublime visitation from heaven, Kit went to the desk.
‘I’m here with Mr Henry Treverne. He has a ten o’clock appointment with his consultant Mr Shadik.’
Reluctantly withdrawing her gaze from Hal, the girl answered, ‘I’ll let him know that Mr Treverne is here right away.’
‘Thank you.’
Returning to sit beside her brooding charge, Kit proffered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Hopefully you won’t have too long to wait.’
His dark eyebrows beetling together, Hal growled, ‘However long the wait, it’s far too long for my liking.’
‘Don’t you want help to get better?’
When he turned his head towards her she was treated to the full force of his powerful gaze.
‘You may have noticed that asking for help and accepting it is not something that comes naturally to me.’
‘Then perhaps when you’re back to full strength again it might be something you could start to cultivate?’
‘Yeah—and my father might train to climb Mount Everest!’
‘I take it he’s not a keen climber like you are, then?’
‘The only thing he climbs are walls—especially when he hears of another “foolhardy escapade” of mine that he despairs of. That’s why he didn’t visit me in the hospital when I had this blasted accident. He’s a man who’s always erred on the side of safety. The only risks he ever takes are ones that he’s sure will preserve the legacy of Falteringham House for the generations of the Treverne family to come.’
‘Falteringham House? Is that the name of your family home?’
‘Yes.’
‘And your father really didn’t visit you when you broke your leg?’ No wonder he was acting like some kind of wounded animal. It had clearly hurt him that his father had stayed away when he’d been injured. She doubted that even her impractical, flighty mother would have behaved as callously.
Hal’s expression was far away for a moment, and seconds later a tall, elegant man dressed in a tailored pinstriped suit that suggested he might just as easily be a wealthy lawyer as a surgeon presented himself in front of the man sitting beside her.
‘Mr Treverne. It is good to see you again. Would you like to come into the examination room and I’ll take a look at that leg, see how things are progressing?’
The comment was impatiently received with a disdainfully curled lip. ‘The only thing that’s progressed is the pain, Mr Shadik.’
‘Then perhaps I need to prescribe some stronger medication for you. Let us go and discuss it, shall we?’
Glancing round at Kit, Hal nodded towards the crutches she’d leant against the wall.
‘Give me a hand with those, would you? And you may as well come into the examination room with me and get the gist of what’s happening.’
‘I think that’s a good idea.’ Immediately pushing to her feet, Kit helped him safely secure the armrests before assisting him to stand. When he did, she observed that once again his indomitably handsome brow was beaded with sweat. The consultant had also noted it, and gravely shook his head.
‘I am certain we can do much better as far as your pain relief is concerned, Henry, so please don’t worry. Today is your first day on crutches, is it not?’
Hal briefly dipped his head in agreement.
‘We’ll get another X-ray and afterwards you can see the physio to make sure that you’re using the aids properly... But I can see that you’re already a natural.’ The surgeon beamed.
Kit sensed that beneath his grim smile Henry was privately utilising every expletive he could lay his hands on, as well as inventing a few more choice ones of his own...
CHAPTER THREE
HAL HAD BEEN in dire need of a rest when they’d returned from the hospital. After the tedious rounds of X-rays and physiotherapy he’d endured, as well as a further consultation about the results with his surgeon, he’d been so exhausted that the only thing he’d longed for was at least a couple of hours of unbroken sleep.
In the living room he’d allowed Kit to assist him in getting comfortable on the couch, privately surprised at how used to her touch he was getting and how quickly he had started to trust it.
The biggest surprise of all had come when he’d learned what an amazingly confident driver she was. His top-of-the-range sporty four-by-four had been handled as expertly as if Hal was driving it himself. Any fears about her denting or damaging one of his favourite cars were happily unfounded.
But when Kit had been gently about to drape a cashmere throw over him as he lay back against the couch cushions he’d instantly reverted to type and snapped, ‘For God’s sake, woman! Stop fussing, will you?’
After that he’d despatched her to her room to unpack and acclimatise herself to her new surroundings, telling her to leave him in peace for a while. When she’d shut the door behind her, as he’d instructed, he’d closed his eyes only to find that the scent of her floral perfume lingered a little too disturbingly for his peace of mind. To compound the disturbance he’d also recalled just then how her precariously arranged topknot had
finally collapsed during his consultation, spilling over her shoulders in a vivid autumnal riot of auburn silk. After that it had taken Hal quite a bit longer than he’d hoped to finally slip into the deep slumber he’d craved...
When he awoke it was to a darkened room, with thundering rain pouring outside. The downpour was so fierce that it lashed against the window panes as if trying to force an entry. It must be quite some storm for it to be so dark this early. Manoeuvring himself upright, he roughly scrubbed the backs of his knuckles across his eyelids and yawned. The sudden realisation that he was in dire need of the bathroom made him immediately seek out his walking aids. When he saw that they had been leant against an armchair a few feet away he muttered a ripe curse beneath his breath. How the hell was he supposed to reach them over there? The uncharacteristic sense of helplessness that swept over him made him feel even more irritated.
‘Kit!’ he yelled. ‘Where the hell are you? I need you in here now!’
The door opened almost straight away and variously placed lamps flooded the room with softly diffused lighting. The first thing Hal noticed was that his new assistant had tamed her riot of auburn hair back into its precarious topknot. He didn’t rightly know why that should be such a crime, but to his thinking it was.
‘I need my crutches,’ he said gruffly, carefully swinging his legs to the floor. ‘I’m pretty desperate to get to the bathroom.’
Without a word she immediately went across to the armchair to collect them, then returned to stand in front of him.
‘It might be quicker if you lean on me and hop. It’s just a few feet away, isn’t it?’
‘Sweetheart.’ He glanced up into her pretty blue eyes and intoned, gravel-voiced, ‘I’m six-foot-two and no lightweight. I have only your word that you’re stronger than you look, and I’d rather not risk you getting a broken leg to match mine. Just help me with the crutches, will you?’