Tempting Dr. Templeton

by Judy Campbell

  Andy’s hand took hers and squeezed it silently as she said flatly, ‘An hour later he went out to get the car and was knocked down by a drunk driver. I never even had the chance to say goodbye…’

  The shocking words, so baldly told, hung in the still air for a moment. She laid her head on Andy’s chest and felt his arms go round her comfortingly. He didn’t say anything for a long time—just rocked her backwards and forwards gently. The soothing motion calmed her mind. She even smiled to herself in the dark. There! She’d told her sad little story, and it hadn’t been so hard after all. She relaxed against his broad frame and gradually began to be aware of the steady thump of his heartbeat against hers. He shifted slightly and smoothed back her hair from her eyes, then bent his head and brushed his lips across her forehead.

  ‘Rosie,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve been carrying that around with you for nearly three years? It’s quite a long time to be lonely.’

  A dart of fire ran like an electric current through Rosie’s body. It had been so long since she’d been caressed, or had even wanted to be. That warm sympathy and his firm clasp sent a lick of desire through her that she’d thought she’d never feel again. It was as if after the catharsis of pouring out her personal tragedy, she needed the physical comfort she had been denied so long. Andy was a good, kind man—she’d learned that during the afternoon. She couldn’t help yearning to be held by him for just a comforting moment.

  She twisted against him so that they stood against each other, hip to hip, her breasts just touching his chest. In the shadows of the night, she could barely see him, but with an indescribable feeling of need her arms wound round his neck and she pulled his face to hers, so close she could smell the maleness of him, the clean, soapy smell of his hair.

  ‘Kiss me, Andy,’ she said tremulously.

  Without a word his mouth came down on hers, softly at first, then more firmly. Rosie felt her insides liquefy with longing and opened her mouth to his. She felt his body harden with desire, his arms pressing her against him as she arched against his solid frame. Then he lifted her up and carried her to the soft sand in the shadows of the rocks, laying her gently down.

  His hand stroked the soft peach of her cheek.

  ‘Has there been no one else since your husband?’ He said softly.

  ‘No one,’ she murmured.

  ‘It can get very lonely, can’t it?’

  His voice had a sigh of longing in it—almost as if he knew very well what it was like to be without love or companionship. Dreamily Rosie wondered if he had ever had a special person, then his body straddled hers and she was only aware of her own body’s response to his. Gentle hands unbuttoned her tunic top and pulled it back, and a heady, disorientated feeling swirled around in her head. Perhaps she was crazy, but she only knew that she wanted to blank out the loneliness of the past years—and, dammit, to show that she could love again.

  He propped himself up on his elbows above her. She could see his face, white in the half-light. ‘You are so beautiful,’ he whispered thickly. ‘But you know where this is leading to, don’t you? Are you sure you want me to make love to you? Tell me to stop and I will. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to do.’

  Rosie stretched under him and smiled. ‘Yes, yes,’ she murmured breathlessly. ‘Of course I want this. Don’t you?’

  For answer he pushed back the tendrils of hair from her forehead and bent his face close to hers, trailing his lips softly over her mouth to the little hollow in her neck. His voice was scarcely audible.

  ‘Rosie, if you knew how much I’ve wanted you—how much I’ve longed to hold you close to me all evening…’

  Then his body was heavy on hers, his hands exploring her most secret places, butterfly kisses covering her neck and breasts. In the background the sound of the surf made a steady beat to their love-making and for the first time in nearly three years Rosie Loveday forgot she was a widow.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ROSIE flung her suitcase into the back of the car and took a last look back at the imposing hotel set high on the cliffs. A group of people were spilling out of the entrance after the morning’s lecture—probably to get a breath of fresh air before lunch. Bleakly her eyes swept over them, looking for a tall, rangy figure with russet hair. There was no sign of him.

  What did you expect? said a little voice in her head. Just because Andy Templeton promised he’d meet you at breakfast…It obviously didn’t mean a thing to him. You were just a pleasant interlude to him—that’s all it was.

  Disappointment and sadness flickered through her mind—she had hoped the evening had meant more to him than that. She recalled his impassioned words after their love-making last night—he had sounded so sincere, so genuine, his blue eyes burning into hers, his voice husky with emotion.

  ‘My beautiful Rosie. You have such fire in you, such ardour…It was so wonderful…’ His lips had brushed hers gently, intimately, his hands still holding her body in gentle possession. ‘Don’t you dare leave this weekend until we’ve made a date to see each other again. I shall be waiting for you at breakfast…promise?’

  ‘Yes,’ she’d murmured, languid after the passion of their love-making. ‘Of course I’ll be there.’

  He’d never arrived, neither had he been at the lecture. Gloomily Rosie had to acknowledge that he had changed his mind or, more likely, forgotten completely about her—she obviously hadn’t registered for very long with him! She cast one more hopeful look around, then she shrugged her shoulders and got into her car, accelerating out of the drive in a spurt of gravel.

  How incredibly naı¨ve of her to suppose that their one night of love would mean anything at all to Andy! Why kid herself that she would ever see him again? The man was probably terrified of bumping into her—being sucked into a relationship by a predatory single woman! Easy come, easy go, she thought wryly. He would regard it as a perk of the job—picking up lonely women and making love to them.

  And yet, she thought sadly, he hadn’t seemed that sort of man at all, rather the reverse—responsible, fun and thoughtful. She’d seen all that when he’d been teaching her how to abseil and when dealing with Bob’s accident. She’d felt she’d really got to know him that afternoon, and that had been reinforced during the evening.

  ‘Stupid fool. I was reading all the wrong signals. I had too much wine, and he was too dishy,’ she muttered as she sped down the dual carriageway. ‘I must have been completely mad, and madder still to allow it to mean so much to me. After all, I don’t own the man!’

  The most shaming thing of all was that she had loved every single, nerve-tingling moment of making love with Andy. Couldn’t she still feel his hard body heavy on hers, his lips fluttering over her skin and arousing her in a way she couldn’t remember having felt before? It had been wonderful, magical, and in her wildest imaginings she hadn’t expected that the evening would end like that—she would never forget it.

  And then there was the guilt, guilt at her pleasure when Tony’s dear memory stayed with her still. How could she have enjoyed making love so much—dare she even whisper it—even more than she’d ever done with Tony? She couldn’t understand it—but it was true.

  ‘Forget about it, Rosie Loveday,’ she said sternly to herself. ‘Put it down to experience. You thought Andy was the kind of man who meant what he said—how wrong could you be? You’ve just gone and made a complete fool of yourself!’

  It took barely an hour to get home, and by the time Rosie drove up to the little cottage, excitement at seeing Amy again had pushed aside some of the depressing feelings that had overtaken her earlier.

  She stood for a second at the gate and looked with pleasure at the wonderful fifteenth-century ‘eyebrow’ cottage, with the sweeping thatch that went like brows over each upstairs window. She had never dreamed that her Uncle Bart would leave her his home when he died—with just one proviso, that his sister Lily could live with Rosie and Amy as long as she wanted. It had suited all of them perfectly. Lily had a b
usy life of her own but missed her brother very much. She longed to be part of her niece’s life and Rosie enjoyed the security of having someone around for Amy if there was an emergency. It hadn’t taken her long to decide to leave her life in the North of England and start afresh near the sea.

  Rosie opened the gate and went up the path. The front door opened, and a flurry of fur and legs whirled towards her in the shape of an untidy mongrel. The plump little figure of her daughter toddled out after the dog, her face wreathed in smiles and holding her arms out for Rosie to pick her up.

  Rosie swept her into her arms. ‘Darling Amy—how are you, my sweet?’ She buried her face into the child’s soft curls and then held her away from her for a second, marvelling again at the little girl’s peach-like complexion and her sweeping lashes framing big brown eyes.

  Amy giggled. ‘Made a cake,’ she declaimed gleefully. ‘For Mummy. Boggle ate some,’ she added crossly.

  ‘Then I shall eat what’s left,’ promised Rosie. She bent down to stroke the dog. ‘You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you, Boggle, to eat Amy’s cake?’

  Lily followed Amy out of the cottage, looking as elegant as usual, even in the old jeans and pink sweater she was wearing. She kissed Rosie affectionately.

  ‘You can go away any time you like, Rosie. Amy and I have had such fun together—haven’t we, my pet? She’s been so good, such a little angel!’

  ‘She looks wonderful, Lily,’ said Rosie, stroking her baby’s springy hair. ‘I just hope it’s not tired you out—she can be quite a handful.’

  Lily looked scornfully at her. ‘What nonsense! If I can run my own fashion shop I can look after a two-year-old—takes more than that to knock the stuffing out of me! I’m not quite in my dotage yet, you know! Now, come in and have a cup of tea and some of this delicious cake your daughter’s made for you!’

  She poured out a cup of tea for them both in the little kitchen that looked over the small cottage garden with the gnarled fruit trees at the bottom, and looked enquiringly at Rosie.

  ‘So, tell me, darling, did you enjoy the weekend—did it come up to expectations? All those lectures and outward bound activities—it’s probably good to get home for a rest!’

  Rosie felt her cheeks flush—she hoped that Lily couldn’t see the kaleidoscope of emotions that whirled round in her brain at the moment!

  ‘It…it was very interesting. A lot going on, but I found I wasn’t very good at abseiling—don’t think I’ll attempt that again!’

  ‘I should think not! It’s a horribly dangerous thing—I hope the instructors were good.’

  ‘Very good,’ said Rosie hollowly, a disturbing picture of two bodies entwined on the sand dunes flashing into her mind. It was hard to believe that she had been in that extraordinary situation only a few hours before. It all seemed like a crazy dream now, the kind of thing that happened to someone else—making love under the moon on the beach with a stranger! She felt her heart give a sudden lurch at the powerful picture. It had been so wonderful, so uninhibited. She closed her eyes for a second and tried to blot out visions of Andy and the way they had made love together so passionately last night.

  Aware that her aunt was looking at her curiously, Rosie gave a light little laugh. ‘Yes!’ she said with a bright smile, ‘It was great fun—I enjoyed every minute!’

  ‘So you reckon it was worth going—you learned something worthwhile from it?’

  ‘Er…certainly I did. Very useful in lots of ways.’ Rosie took Amy’s little hairbrush from a shelf and did some concentrated brushing of the child’s bright, bouncy hair. She shot a covert look at Lily, a woman of some perception. If she wasn’t careful her aunt would begin to suspect there’d been more going on than lectures on community care!

  She turned to Amy and nuzzled her soft little neck. ‘And now, my sweet, I think we’ll go and give you a bath. Mummy’s brought you a little present—see, it’s a little boat with two men in it!’

  ‘A boat! A boat!’ shrieked Amy joyfully. She grabbed the toy and beamed at her mother. ‘Bath now!’ she demanded imperiously.

  Rosie watched the little girl splashing about in her bath with her myriad plastic ducks and boats and felt a glow of love for her daughter—it was so wonderful to be back with her again. There were no complications about Amy. When she was happy she smiled, when something displeased her she screamed—she wasn’t ridden by feelings of guilt or shame. The world was a fascinating place where relationships were still straightforward—not like her mother, Rosie thought gloomily.

  ‘Mummy read Amy story,’ demanded Amy as she was tucked up in bed. ‘Read ’bout Goldilocks!’

  Rosie smiled. Amy knew the story of Goldilocks backwards, and it was always rather soothing to reread the tale for the umpteenth time—it would take her mind off the powerful mental image of Andy Templeton and her complete surrender to him.

  Amy tugged impatiently at her mother’s arm. ‘Read, Mummy! “Once ’pon time there were three bears…”’ Her voice trailed off, and Rosie laughed.

  ‘Sorry, darling—we’ll start now.’

  Soon the little girl’s eyes were drooping as her mother’s voice lulled her to sleep with the familiar words. Rosie dropped a kiss on her daughter’s flushed round cheek, then went to the window to replace the book on the sill. She stared out across the pretty garden with the field beyond and caught a glimpse of the sea between the folds of the hills. Funny, she thought, she’d never hear the sound of waves again without thinking of Andy and herself together on that moonlit shore.

  You stupid fool—to him you were just a passing fancy, she said savagely to herself. You were an easy conquest, and I shouldn’t think he’s thought about me twice since—probably flirting with someone else now on his darn country trek. These conferences are a very good way to have a good time with a girl. No strings attached, no need to see them ever again…!

  Monday morning and back to the harsh reality of work, thought Rosie grimly as she leant back in her chair, breathing deeply. Dropping Amy and Boggle off with the childminder was always an exhausting business. Amy didn’t want to be left, and made her feelings quite plain, and although Rosie was sure that the little girl stopped crying when she disappeared, it left her feeling like a hard-hearted monster! She shrugged. She had no choice but to leave Amy, just like most mothers who had a job to go to, but the morning rush of getting herself and her daughter out of the house on time needed plenty of energy. Lily followed at a more leisurely pace. She had her own business, running a successful dress shop, but took her time getting there.

  Rosie took a gulp of strong coffee and flicked a glance round the room. She’d only been in the job a month, but already she felt well ensconced. Everything looked just the same—a high Victorian room with an examination couch at one side, a basin with cupboards on another, and in front of the sash window with Venetian blinds shielding them from the outside gaze a large desk with a computer on top. So mundane and ordinary, such a contrast to the giddy passions she’d experienced on Saturday night—that might have taken place in another world!

  She stared thoughtfully at the blank computer screen. This might be mundane but it was security—and that was what she needed more than anything, wasn’t it? Not heady nights with a gorgeous man! Coping with the death of Tony and bringing up Amy had knocked her sideways for a long time. Now things were beginning to get on an even keel—a job she enjoyed with two pleasant colleagues in Porlstone, a lovely little market town surrounded by country and not far from the sea, perfect to bring up her little girl. She looked forward to taking Amy to all the little rocky coves with their sandy beaches—they would have picnics and bathe in the sea later in the summer.

  A humdrum life, she said firmly to herself as she pressed the buzzer for her first patient, was just what she needed. Stability was more important than the heady heights of a one-off affair. For Amy’s sake she had to ensure that the fling she’d had with Andy was over and forgotten. She looked at her computer screen again and brought up the nam
e of her first patient, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter in hand. After a few weeks she was a new face to most of her patients, and she was just getting to know them.

  There was a brisk knock on the door and a stout, determined-looking woman and a rather sullen youth came in.

  ‘Good morning. Do sit down, both of you,’ Rosie said pleasantly, noting that the young man was limping. ‘It’s Chris Houseman, isn’t it? And I guess you’re his mum. How can I help you?’

  ‘It’s his knee, Doctor,’ answered his mother for him before the young man could open his mouth. ‘It’s his own fault. I knew it was hurting him, but he would keep on training. I’ve told him over and over again to rest it and not exercise so much, but he won’t take the slightest bit of notice.’

  The young man made a face. ‘I put an elastic bandage on it,’ he muttered. ‘Made no difference.’

  ‘Perhaps I could just look at the injury,’ said Rosie briskly. ‘Could you pull down your jeans and lie on the couch?’

  The boy glanced at his mother. ‘Do I have to?’ he muttered.

  ‘Do what you’re told, Chris,’ snapped his mother. ‘Dr Loveday’s new—she’s probably not used to awkward lads like you.’

  ‘It’s pure agony—I can’t move it at all.’

  Rosie bent over Chris’s knee. It was badly swollen, red and hot to the touch.

  ‘You’ve certainly done some damage there,’ she remarked sympathetically. ‘The knee’s a complicated joint, with quite a few things that can get injured if it’s twisted. And, of course, repetitive activity may cause inflammation of the tendon below the patella. It can be extremely painful.’

  Chris folded his arms and said rather aggressively, ‘You’ve got to get it better quickly. I’m in training. I’m in the inter-school league triathlon, and it could lead to county trials! I thought you could give me cortisone injections or something…I know that heals things in a jiffy!’