The Doctor's Forbidden Fling. Karin Baine
she was only interested in his body. Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, okay, his body had been on her mind since she’d first seen him suited and booted but she’d needed him for so much more than that. She’d tried to use sex to get him to stay when she was really yearning for his company.
After one bombshell too many, her common sense had been blown to pieces. There was no other logical explanation for her behaviour last night. These past years of being so strong, so independent had skewed her idea of friendship until she’d seen it as a weakness. Until yesterday, when Nate had reminded her how good it was to have someone in your corner fighting your battles with you. In her messed-up head, sleeping with Nate had seemed like the only way to recapture that fantasy world they’d had when they were young but he’d called her on it. She had no right to expect anything from him when she’d been the one to burst that bubble in the first place. What had been the point of walking away then if she was simply going to drag him back into all Strachmore’s problems now?
In the cold light of day Nate’s refusal to stay had probably been the most sensible option but her ego was still a little bruised. Clearly he’d done what she’d ultimately wanted for him at the time and moved on from her. She should be happy about it. Not wondering what, apart from her badly executed proposition, had turned him off her. That one kiss had been so full of love and passion for her she hated to think she’d killed it stone dead with her actions, even though she’d acted in what she’d thought was in both of their interests.
At least not sleeping with Nate meant minimal embarrassment when she would inevitably run into him again. The good news this morning was that her father had made it through the night and was as well as could be expected for a man determined to be in control of his own destiny at any cost.
Now that the sun was up she was keen to get to the hospital and see him but her thoughts were as muddled as ever when it came to her father. Last night she’d been afraid for him, and herself, as far as his health and finances were concerned. Yet there was also that lingering resentment that he’d brought her back here, unintentionally or not. These rose-covered walls and four-poster bed might be the stuff of little girls’ dreams but to her this had always been a prison, a place that had robbed her of her freedom. Even as an adult she was still trapped here.
She tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the thick wool carpet reminding her she wasn’t in Kansas any more. The wooden floors throughout her flat served a dual purpose—minimum cleaning and a stand against her old-fashioned upbringing.
She wandered down the halls trying to find the beauty in her opulent surroundings and failing. The shiny, gilded trinkets and ornate antiquities were exquisite but at what cost? She would’ve taken a childhood in a one-bedroom council flat if it had meant she could’ve had her mother back. Not so her father. Even when his wife had begged him to downsize to stem their outgoings, he’d refused to part with the family silver or make any concessions to give her peace of mind. If anything, he’d become more extravagant, throwing lavish parties to prevent the rumour mill churning with stories about the depleted family coffers. Her mother had been expected to be compliant in the façade, playing the glamorous, gracious hostess while quashing her anxiety with a cocktail of drugs.
Violet slid her hand over the smooth mahogany bannister leading down the staircase. It took her to a happier period when the house was her playground and this was her slide taking her from one floor to another. With few friends outside her preparatory school, she’d had to make her own entertainment when she’d been waiting for Nate to finish working in the grounds with his father. At least with him she’d never had to pretend to be something she wasn’t. She shouldn’t have tried to do that last night by making out she was some sort of good-time girl.
Perhaps he’d seen right through her façade the way he’d always been able to and realised she’d simply been acting out of fear. That thought was preferable to the one where he didn’t find her attractive any more and enough to spur her on to get dressed and face the day ahead.
* * *
So many elements of what happened last night had been playing on Nate’s mind. The most persistent one being Violet’s indecent proposal and why he’d turned her down. He doubted she felt any more for him now than she had back then and surmised she’d been trying to use him as a sticking plaster over the wound coming back here had reopened. He knew he’d ultimately made the right decision. Going down that path again would only have led to that same dead end it had taken him years to navigate his way out of.
In hindsight her flight to London rather than take the next step with him had probably been for the best. Nothing had changed since then. Except they were no longer best friends and self-preservation was a higher priority for him now.
The discovery of the Earl’s debts had added to his disturbed sleep; he was worried not only for Violet but for his family too. Regardless of his own thoughts on Strachmore, or the people who resided there, his parents were very much a part of it. Any financial problems would affect them too when it was their livelihood, and their affiliation was the only thing keeping a roof over their heads. The cottage was the only perk of the job as far as he could see and one that would certainly vanish along with the Dempseys. Strachmore’s problems were also his now. He couldn’t stand by and watch his parents lose their home simply because he and Violet had unresolved issues. They were all going to have to work together to find a solution. The future was going to have to be more important than the past.
He’d made Samuel Dempsey his first port of call on the ward rounds this morning to follow his progress. All had been quiet since the last dramatic intervention to restart his heart so Nate hoped this was the start of his recovery. There was no associated arrhythmia, with the heart beating too quickly, too slowly, or irregularly, which could sometimes occur after a heart attack. It would take a while to assess the full damage done to the heart and how much tissue would be able to recover but, for now, he was stable.
That was more than could be said for another one of his elderly patients, who’d suffered severe heart failure and had undergone stenting of his coronary arteries yesterday. The balloon catheter supposed to inflate/ deflate timed by the patient’s heartbeat and support the circulation hadn’t been beneficial in this case. After examining him, Nate had had to concede that a large part of the heart muscle had died and nothing more could be done. A younger patient might have been a candidate for further surgery but it had been decided at the morning multi-disciplinary meeting not to pursue any further investigation. Already weak, the patient wouldn’t have survived another round of intrusive surgery. It wasn’t the outcome he wanted for any of his patients, no matter what their age or circumstance. He absorbed every loss as though it were personal, his failing. If anything happened to the Earl he’d never forgive himself for letting Violet or his parents down.
After seeing in-patients, outpatients and performing a pacemaker insertion, he’d come full circle back to CCU. Deep down he’d known Violet would be here.
* * *
‘Hey, Dad.’ Violet was glad to see he was a bit more with it and his pallor was a lot less grey today. She’d been sitting around for hours waiting for all the tests and scans to be completed before she got to see him. Making her own way to the hospital this morning had seemed like a better plan than car-sharing with the man who didn’t want to sleep with her but it also meant no string-pulling visitor privileges.
‘Violet? What are you doing here?’ His eyes were flickering open and shut as though he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe what he was seeing. It was no wonder when she’d spent so long out of the country, and his life.
‘The doctors have told you what happened, right?’ She didn’t want the responsibility of breaking the news to him; he wasn’t invincible. He’d probably call her a liar if she tried.
‘A heart attack.’ He nodded and closed his eyes again. She couldn’t tell if he was tired, zoned out on drugs or annoyed she was here. Probably all three. She was the last person he’d want to see him weak and out of control.
‘I wanted to make sure you were all right.’ It was weird saying that when she’d barely let him enter her thoughts until recently.