Once Upon a Christmas (26 page)

She blushed and looked away. ‘I can’t believe I let you kiss me. That I kissed you back.’ Her expression was troubled. ‘I’ve never—I don’t know what I was thinking of. Why did I let you?’

‘Because I’m irresistible,’ he said helpfully, and then sighed when she didn’t laugh.

‘Relax, sweetheart. It was only a kiss.’

Only for him it hadn’t been just a kiss. It had been an affirmation.

‘B-but I’m not like that,’ she stammered, pushing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. ‘I don’t—I mean I’ve never …’

‘You don’t go ‘round kissing men you find attractive.
Well then perhaps it’s time you started,’ Oliver said, pulling the edges of her jacket together and zipping it up firmly. ‘Come on. Let’s go home.’

‘I can’t have an affair with you, Oliver.’

His hands paused on her jacket. ‘Have I asked you to?’

‘No. But I’m just making it clear that I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘For a start, I’m seriously on the rebound.’ She gave a wan smile. ‘I’m completely confused. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know how I feel about David anymore but I do know that I’m not a good bet for any man.’

‘Then it’s a good job I’ve always been a risk taker,’ Oliver said cheerfully, turning away to stuff the rest of the picnic in the rucksack. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘I’ll hurt you.’

‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty tough.’ Oliver heaved the rucksack onto his broad shoulders and paced back to her. ‘All right, this is what we’re going to do. Call it your rehabilitation programme. You’re going to carry on working for me, we’re going to carry on living together. You’re going to carry on recovering from David and we’re going to carry on kissing whenever we feel like it and see where it leads us.’

‘It won’t lead anywhere. In a few weeks I’ll be going back to London.’

‘Right.’ Oliver gave a bland smile and started down the path, wondering what she’d say if she knew that he had no intention of ever letting her return to London again.

He was going to marry her.

H
ELEN’S
thoughts were so jumbled up for the rest of the weekend that it was a relief to return to work on Monday.

She’d spent most of Sunday trying to avoid Oliver, which was virtually impossible in a cottage the size of Bryony’s when the man in question was the size of Oliver.

Every time she’d turned around he’d seemed to be watching her with that lazy, sexy look that made her insides feel funny.

And she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

She tried to think of a time when a kiss from David had left her so churned up, and failed. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what it felt like to kiss David. Maybe it was just because she’d been kissing David since she was nineteen.

But had his kisses ever felt as though she was on the verge of something deliciously exciting? Had she ever wanted his kisses to carry on and on and never stop?

Because that’s how she’d felt with Oliver.

Seriously disturbed, Helen tried to apply some logic to her tumbled feelings.

She was feeling emotionally bruised and battered and Oliver Hunter had been extraordinarily kind to her. It was only natural that she should feel drawn to him. It was nothing more than that.

But it felt like a lot more.

‘Are you all right, Helen?’ Pam, the receptionist, wandered into her room clutching some notes. ‘You look miles away.’

‘Just thinking.’ Helen forced a smile. ‘I’m fine. Are those notes for me?’

Pam nodded. ‘I know you’ve got a full clinic already, but Howard Marks has asked if you’ll see him.’ She frowned. ‘He saw Dr Hunter last week and after he came out of his appointment he was hovering around Reception for ages as if he was trying to pluck up courage to say something. That’s why I thought you might agree to see him. I’ve just got a feeling …’

‘Of course I’ll see him,’ Helen said immediately, taking the set of notes from Pam. ‘Perhaps I’ll just have a quick word with Dr Hunter first before I call him in. Just so that I have some background.’

‘Good idea. He’s in between patients at the moment and your next one hasn’t turned up so you’ve been blessed with time to breathe.’

‘Thanks, Pam.’

Wondering how it was that she could feel so at home in a practice after only a week, Helen walked across the corridor to Oliver’s consulting room and tapped on the door.

She heard his deep voice tell her to enter but her hand paused on the door handle as she braced herself to face
him. For the whole weekend all she’d been able to think about had been that kiss.

What if she’d lost the ability to work with him professionally?

Just as she was plucking up the courage to open the door, it was tugged open from the inside and Oliver stood there, his blue eyes questioning as they rested on her face.

‘Is something wrong?’

Her eyes dropped to his firm mouth and she forced herself to lift her gaze and look him in the eyes. Something flickered deep in his eyes and then he stood to one side to let her in.

‘I wanted to talk about a patient,’ she said quickly, just in case he thought she’d knocked on his door with something more personal in mind. ‘Someone called Howard Marks has asked to see me. Apparently he saw you last week. I just wondered if you could give me a bit of background.’

Oliver frowned and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Howard has asked to see you? I can’t imagine what for …’ He was silent for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No idea. He’s a very heavy smoker and he suffers from emphysema. He developed a chest infection over Christmas so I gave him antibiotics. I checked his chest last week and it was free of infection. End of story.’

‘That’s fine. I just wanted to check that there wasn’t anything I should know before I saw him.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘Howard is a great guy. He was a friend of my father’s—I’ve known him since I was tiny.’

‘Have you?’ Helen tilted her head to one side and looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I wonder whether that’s why he wants to see me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ She smiled and walked towards the door. ‘Just a thought, and I’m probably wrong anyway so it’s stupid to voice it. I’ll catch you later, Oliver.’

Suddenly she was breathlessly aware of his broad shoulders and the hard muscle of his thighs outlined by the soft fabric of his trousers. He had a powerful, very masculine physique and without too much effort on her part she could remember just how it had felt to be pressed close to his body.

And she needed to get herself away from his body as fast as possible so that she could somehow regain control of her mind.

Not daring to analyse what was happening to her, she hurried back to the sanctuary of her room and closed the door firmly behind her.

To begin with work had provided a distraction from David. Now it seemed to be providing a distraction from Oliver as well.

She pressed the buzzer to call her next patient and then smiled as a tall, pale-looking man walked into her room.

‘Mr Marks? I’m Helen Forrester. Please, have a seat.’

He closed the door carefully and sat down opposite her, his fingers playing nervously in his lap.

‘What can I do for you, Mr Marks?’

He shifted awkwardly in his chair and then ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘I have this thing called emphysema …’

Helen nodded. ‘Yes. I read your notes. How are you getting on?’

‘Well, not great, to be honest.’ He pulled a face. ‘I have
to breathe in that blessed oxygen sixteen hours a day and then at Christmas I managed to catch something horrible and I was back in bed, coughing my guts up.’

‘But the antibiotics that Dr Hunter gave you cleared that up?’

‘Oh, ay.’ He nodded and glanced at her briefly before looking away again. ‘He’s a good doctor is young Oliver.’

Helen looked at him thoughtfully. ‘And you’ve known him all your life.’

‘Knew his father and mother before they were married.’ Howard Marks gave a short laugh. ‘Can’t believe Oliver is grown up, to be honest.’

‘It must be a bit difficult, talking to him about some things,’ Helen volunteered, keeping her voice casual, and when he met her eyes she knew that she was right.

‘He’s a brilliant doctor,’ the man said quickly, ‘but I remember him as a kid. How can I talk to him about—about—’ He broke off and Helen gave a nod.

‘About something really personal,’ she finished gently, and Howard sighed.

‘Stupid, isn’t it, really? An old fool like me.’

‘If something is worrying you, you should talk about it. Is that why you asked to see me, Mr Marks? Because I’m a stranger?’

He gave her a keen look. ‘You’re not stupid, are you?’

‘I hope not.’ Helen smiled. ‘And I do understand that it’s easier to talk to a stranger about some things.’

‘I thought that. That’s why I asked to see you.’ He broke off and gave a long sigh. ‘And now I’m here I don’t know how to say it. You’ll think I’m completely ridiculous.’

Helen shook her head. ‘I won’t think that. If the problem
is serious enough to bring you here then it’s serious enough for me to take it seriously.’

He glanced towards the door as if he was contemplating running through it. ‘Your next patient is probably waiting.’

‘Then they can wait a bit longer,’ Helen said calmly. ‘Please, trust me, Mr Marks. Tell me what’s worrying you and we’ll try and find a solution together.’

‘I’m sixty-six,’ he wheezed. ‘Been married for forty-two years and we’ve always had a good—well, we’ve always enjoyed—’

‘Sex?’ Helen’s voice was calm. ‘Has it become a problem, Mr Marks?’

He slumped in his chair and ran a hand over his face. ‘I can’t believe I’m discussing it with you. You’re younger than my daughter.’

‘But I’m also a professional who cares about your health,’ Helen reminded him, ‘and sexuality is part of health. If it’s any consolation, plenty of patients have discussed exactly the same issue with me. It’s very common, particularly in patients who are suffering from respiratory conditions like you.’

He looked at her. ‘You’ve talked to other patients about this?’

‘Absolutely. In London there are specialist nurses who deal with this area.’

He gave an embarrassed smile. ‘When you get to my age you assume that people think you don’t have sex any more.’

‘Sex is an important part of a relationship,’ Helen said quietly. ‘Do you want to tell me exactly what the problem is?’

He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Well, I just run out
of energy. And I suppose I’m frightened because I get breathless.’

‘Do you leave your oxygen on when you make love?’

He frowned and shook his head. ‘No, of course not.’

‘It would probably help if you did. Do you ever go for walks?’

‘Sometimes, but I always use my puffer before exercise and that seems to do the trick.’

Helen nodded. ‘Treat making love as you would any other exercise,’ she advised. ‘Have a puff of your bronchodilator before and keep the oxygen on. Have a rest before you make love and it might be wise to avoid alcohol because that can actually inhibit sexual arousal.’

‘What about the fact that I get breathless? It scares the wife.’

‘Shortness of breath while you’re making love is entirely normal,’ Helen said simply. ‘As long as you are feeling OK you shouldn’t worry about it.’

‘The wife thinks I’m going to drop dead.’

‘Then you can assure her that sudden death during intercourse is extremely uncommon.’ Helen reached for her diary and a piece of paper. ‘There’s a really good leaflet that outlines some sexual positions which help you conserve energy. I used to have a few in the place where I worked last but if you call this number they can send you a copy. In the meantime, this is what I suggest.’

She talked frankly for a few minutes more and then Howard rose to his feet and gave her a grateful smile.

‘I can’t thank you enough. I feel a lot better.’

‘Good.’ Helen stood up and walked him to the door. ‘Anytime you have any worries just pop back and see me.’

And then she remembered that the chances were she wouldn’t be here.

Her life was in London.

She buzzed for her next patient, a frown on her face.

If she was honest with herself she was enjoying this small community where everyone knew about everyone else.

And she was enjoying working with Oliver.

She sucked in a breath and stared out of the window, her eyes on the snow-covered fells that he loved so much.

It was still troubling her that she was becoming so obsessed with Oliver when only a few weeks before she’d been making preparations to spend the rest of her life with David.

It was just self-preservation, she assured herself, pulling herself together as her next patient tapped on her door. David had rejected her so brutally that it was perfectly natural for her to respond when an attractive man flirted with her.

And Oliver wasn’t serious. She knew he couldn’t be serious.

He’d only known her for just over a week.

That afternoon she finished work on time and went and collected Hilda from her cottage.

‘I just want to show you something,’ she said, waiting while Hilda picked up her coat and bag. ‘And, anyway, it’ll be fun to get out and have some fresh air. I’ve been stuck in a surgery surrounded by germs all morning.’

Hilda smiled. ‘I see Dr Hunter has leant you his four-by-four.’

‘That’s right.’ Helen grinned and opened the passenger door for her. ‘Although why he trusts us girls with it, I have no idea.’

Hilda laughed and climbed into the vehicle with some discreet help from Helen. ‘I suppose this is the point where you tell me you used to be a racing driver.’

‘Would you mind if I was?’

‘Not at all.’ Hilda fastened her seat-belt. ‘To be honest, I’m in the market for some excitement.’

‘Well, you can relax. I’m not that confident with his car yet,’ Helen confessed ruefully, pulling out and setting off towards the town. ‘So we’ll have to seek our excitement in other directions.’

‘So how are you settling down, dear?’

‘Very well. Everyone is very kind.’

Hilda glanced across at her. ‘And you’re living with Dr Hunter …’

Helen blushed. ‘We’re both staying in his sister’s house. I wouldn’t exactly say I’m living with him.’

‘Sounds as though you’re living with him to me,’ Hilda said placidly, reaching down and picking up her bag. ‘And a good thing, too. We’ve all waited a long time to see Oliver find the right woman.’

Helen gave a soft gasp. ‘Hilda, I’m not the right woman.’

‘Judging from the way he was looking at you when he brought you to my house that first weekend, I think he might have a different opinion on that subject.’

Helen shook her head. ‘I’ve known him for less than two weeks.’

‘I fell in love with my husband in two minutes,’ Hilda said wistfully, pulling a tissue out of her bag and blowing
her nose. ‘And he was the same. When you know, you know.’

‘I probably ought to tell you that until very recently I was engaged to another man.’ Helen tightened her fingers on the steering-wheel, wondering why she was disclosing intimate details of her private life to a patient. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this …’

‘Why not? It does me good to hear about other peoples’ lives,’ Hilda said calmly. ‘Stops me brooding on my own problems. So what happened?’

‘He ended it the day before the wedding. He phoned from the airport as he was about to board a plane.’ For the first time since it had happened, Helen was able to assess David’s behaviour objectively. ‘What a rat.’

‘A coward of the worse kind,’ Hilda agreed fervently, ‘but he did you a favour, dear. Whatever pain you might be feeling now, it’s nothing compared to waking up every day next to a man you don’t love. And there’s no way a sweet girl like you could have been in love with a man who could behave like that.’

‘I thought I was.’

‘Everyone can make a mistake.’ Hilda peered curiously out of the window. ‘I’ve never been down this road before. Where are we?’

‘If you turn right at the end of the road you end up at the edge of the lake. It’s very pretty. And the flat has lovely views of the lake from the sitting room and the main bedroom.’