The Doctor's Forbidden Fling (2 page)

She zoned out the blue flashes of nurses zipping by and the hospital beds occupied by ill strangers to hone in on her father. He was in the top left-hand corner of the room, by the window. At least he'd only have one immediate neighbour to complain about when he was back to his grouchy self. The Earl Dempsey would not be happy to find himself on an NHS ward surrounded by the great unwashed when he woke instead of some private hospital he'd happily pay through the nose for. Tough. When all was said and done, Nate and his colleagues were all that was keeping him alive.

‘He's a little out of it at the moment due to the morphine we've given him to reduce the pain.' Nate led her to the bedside and for the first time in her life Violet felt sorry for her father. The man who'd virtually driven her mother to death in the pursuit of gaining a higher status in society now looked like any other old man lying there in his hospital gown, his white hair matted to his head and tubes and wires covering every inch of him.

She couldn't miss the monitors charting his vital signs, the IVs pumping life-saving drugs into his system, or the oxygen mask keeping him breathing, but she didn't cry. Nate's shoulder was safe from her tears these days. That display of emotion was reserved for the privacy of her own home where no one could witness her weakness. There was no way she was going to end up like her vulnerable mother, letting others take advantage of her. She was stronger than that. She'd had to be.

* * *

‘What are his chances?' Violet was so matter-of-fact, so devoid of emotion, Nate was concerned she might be in shock and he'd have to treat her too. Then this night really would be complete.

Until now, he'd only seen her act this coldly once before. He knew she hadn't visited home since leaving for university but this was still her father lying here on the brink of death. The girl he'd grown up with had years of fear and hurt built up inside her because of this man, whether she loved him or not. There ought to be some sort of reaction to finding he could die without ever resolving the past.

He'd held back from saying those things that had sprung to mind the minute he'd known she was in the building, all of them prefaced with ‘why?'. He'd had no choice but to pick himself back up and get on with life after her disappearing act but that didn't mean he'd stopped asking himself what he'd done to drive her away.

Seeing her again brought conflicting emotions to the fore. That broken-hearted teenager who still haunted his relationships would probably always hold a candle for her but with that came the hurt of her abandonment and that dismissal of his feelings for her.

Instead of acknowledging his declaration of love for her, or reciprocating, she'd walked away and refused to see him again before she'd left for London. It had been the only time she hadn't turned to him for advice, or confided her plans. The only time she'd turned her back on him instead of leaning on him for support. Although her rejection had cut him deeply, he'd tried to turn it into a positive. If he'd carried on in that vein, as an emotional crutch for her, he would've remained stagnant at Strachmore in his parents' footsteps. They'd given the best years of their lives to the running of the castle, sacrificing everything else in their loyalty to the Dempseys.

Despite his father's view that they owed the family some sort of non-existent debt that included tying the next generation of Taylors to the Earl's needs, Nate had sworn not to get drawn into that trap. His parents might have conceded some of their freedom to maintain their positions but he was pretty sure sacrificing their firstborn hadn't been included in the terms and conditions of their contracts. This was his life, and he'd had ambitions beyond the Strachmore estate.

Violet had been the one flaw in that plan. He'd probably have given up all of his hopes and dreams to be with her. It still hadn't been enough.
He
hadn't been enough. Her actions had been confirmation he needed to do something with his life beyond the estate and he owed her for giving him that final push. That was partly why he'd insisted on speaking to her himself tonight.

He'd often imagined the moment their paths would cross again. Every medical exam he'd taken and passed with flying colours had been his way of getting his own back, proof he had been worthy of her after all. He mightn't have been born into money but with hard work he'd earned it, along with a good reputation. She would've seen that for herself if she'd shown any faith in him and stuck around.

There were many points in his career where he'd been spurred on with the thought of being able to flaunt his success some day. As if she were a loser in a game show and he were showing her what she could have won. If money and status had been all that mattered to her when he'd only had love to give, he knew she'd be kicking herself to find out he had it all now.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to how the years had treated her too. If her mother's death had changed her emotionally, life in London had certainly transformed her physically. Although she'd hate it, her noble heritage shone through in every step she took. The once waist-length raven hair was now styled in a sleek bob, and her skinny frame, although still slender, definitely had curves in all the right places. She was every inch the sophisticated woman about town even in her casual butt-hugging jeans and silky polka-dot blouse. However, her new look and altered attitude couldn't hide the real Violet from him. Those blue eyes, the colour of a stormy winter's night, were as troubled as ever and he couldn't bring himself to confront her about the past when she was already in such turmoil.

It could wait until they were both ready to talk and stop pretending seeing each other wasn't a big deal. She might've moved on, consigned everything they'd had together to the past, but he still needed an explanation as to why she'd turned her back on him so he could close that chapter. Violet's rejection had marked the one failure in his life and that wasn't something he found easy to live with.

Although he wanted answers, for now he'd have to put his personal feelings aside and treat her as he would any family member of a critical patient. In the old days he wouldn't have thought twice about throwing his arms around her and giving her a much-needed hug, but they weren't here together through choice. Neither were they angsty teenagers united in rebellion against their parents. They were adults, virtual strangers who knew nothing of each other's lives. He chose a clinical approach to appease this edgier version of the girl he once knew and try to maintain some sort of professional distance from the case.

After dealing with the Earl, he had a renewed appreciation for what Violet and her mother had contended with. The frustration at not being able to do his job and perform the angioplasty because of his patient's non-compliance had made him want to scream. In some ways he understood Violet's decision to leave him to his own devices; it was easier than standing by and watching him self-destruct. Even in the jaws of death he thought he thought he knew better than those around him. As if he imagined continued denial would somehow defy fate.

‘He's not out of danger yet but he is in the best place. We've administered clot-busting drugs quite early so it should restore the blood flow and reduce the damage. In my experience, the earlier we treat the patient after a heart attack, the better chance of survival they have.' Although he performed this procedure day after day, it was never routine. Every patient was individual, reacted differently to medication, suffered varying degrees of muscle damage and experienced all sorts of complications on the road to recovery. All he could do was fight with all the drugs and technology he had available to him and the rest was up to fate, or the stubbornness of the patient.

‘I don't wish him any harm, you know. Despite everything. I'm not heartless.' Violet leaned across the bed and for a split second Nate thought she was going to reach out to her father. At the last second she withdrew again.

‘I know. I'm sure he knows it too.' He might have had his doubts about that when she'd abandoned her life here with him in it, but she'd proved that rumour wrong by simply being here. Clearly she still cared for her father, and Nate had no doubt somewhere deep down the feeling was mutual. The trouble was they were both too stubborn to make the first move on building that bridge. He'd seen how the loss of her mother had affected Violet and he dearly hoped there was still time for her to connect with her father, to get closure if nothing else.

Nate had had his own parental issues but he still checked in with them on a regular basis. He just made sure he kept enough distance to ensure they didn't interfere in his life and he didn't get roped into drama at Strachmore. Until now.

The steady blip of the monitors suddenly flatlined as the Earl's heart rate dropped. Nate swung into action as the alarm rang out to summon the crash team. A second arrest was always a possibility when patients were at their most vulnerable after the first. Especially when they'd refused life-saving treatment. In Nate's head he'd thought bringing Violet in could somehow prevent the worst from happening. Instead, she was here to witness it for herself.

‘Violet, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.' He motioned for help to get her out of here. Saving a man's life wasn't as pretty as they made out in the movies and he certainly didn't want family members in the audience for the performance.

‘Nate?' She didn't have to say anything else. The trembling bottom lip caught between her teeth and wide eyes expressed her plea eloquently enough.

‘I'll do everything I can. I promise.' He was forced to block out that haunting image of her silently begging him to save her father so he could focus on the job at hand. He didn't want to be the one to have to deliver that earth-shattering news to her for a second time.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he charged the defibrillator that had been wheeled to the bedside.

‘Stand clear.'

The first shock Nate administered to try and kick-start the heart again was for the Earl, and Violet, and a second chance for their father-daughter relationship. He started CPR, thinking of his own parents and their ties to this man with every chest compression.

So much for not wanting anyone relying on him. Now both of their families were depending on him to save the day. And a life.

CHAPTER TWO

N
ATE
LEANING
OVER
the bed, pumping her father's chest, was the last thing Violet saw before the ward doors swung shut, closing her out of her father's struggle for life. A nurse steered her back towards the cell she'd vacated only minutes earlier for another interminable wait. With her pulse racing, her insides knotted, she didn't have it in her to resist a second incarceration.

There was nothing she could do but take a seat in her still-warm chair. Everything was in Nate's hands now. Literally. She trusted his word to do his utmost to save his patient; he'd never let her down before. It had been the other way around. When he'd kissed her, told her he loved her, she'd run away rather than confess she felt the same. It was the one thing she couldn't give him, dared not give him, when she'd watched love destroy her mother.

She admired Nate's professionalism after the way she'd left things with him. There was an aloofness about him she wasn't used to, but she guessed she'd been the one who'd created that by going to London without telling him why. Perhaps it was water under the bridge for him and not something he was keen to be reminded of. In fairness, she probably deserved a lot worse than the cold shoulder and she didn't think she'd be quite so civilised if the situation had been reversed. Whatever his thoughts on seeing her, she was grateful to him for not calling her out on what had happened. She didn't want to deal with any more emotional fallout today. For someone who did her best to keep her feelings on lockdown, this had been a doozy of a day already and she couldn't face any more demons from her past.

Yet, here she was relying on him the same way she had every time her parents had fought, feeling sorry for herself and wondering what the future held. This time her thoughts were consumed with becoming an orphan at the age of thirty instead of being married off to another family who valued reputation above all else.

There was a tentative knock on the door and the same nurse appeared with a tea tray. ‘I thought you could do with a cuppa.'

‘Thanks.' Violet accepted the offering with a forced smile. Despite the fact she hadn't eaten anything since receiving that fateful telephone call, her stomach was in too much turmoil for her to even face the plain biscuits presented to her with the tea.

‘You need something to keep your strength up. You'll be no use to your father if you faint from hunger.'

Violet honestly didn't know what use she'd be to her father whether she was conscious or not, but her new shadow stood waiting and watching until she took a nibble at a biscuit and a sip of tea. Only then, her care of duty fulfilled, did the nurse leave her alone again.

The next time the door opened some time later, it was Nate who entered. She told herself the little flip her heart did was in anticipation of finding out her father's fate. It had absolutely nothing to do with the sight of Dr Taylor with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his perfectly groomed hair now ruffled and unkempt as if he'd just got out of bed. It was clear neither he nor her father had had an easy time of it.

‘We got him back.' Nate immediately ended her suspense and she let go of the breath she'd been holding since he walked in.

‘Thank you.' Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, her throat burning from the tears she couldn't shed. Until today she hadn't realised how much it meant to her to know she wasn't alone in the world.

‘We'll keep him under close observation. A second arrest was always a possibility after the stress his heart has been under today but he's stable now.'

Nate's dedication was a blessing. Especially when her father had treated him with nothing but disdain when they were growing up. He thought associating with those below one's station was degrading and it had been to blame for Violet's ‘rebellion'. In hindsight, she wondered if he'd seen how dangerously close they'd come to having a proper relationship and that had coloured his view of their friendship. Nate would never have lived up to her father's idea of a noble son-in-law to carry on his title. Not that he would've wanted it either. He hated Strachmore as much as she did. In the end the Earl's campaign to keep them separated had been a wasted exercise on his part. Violet had no intention of settling down with anyone, whether she loved them or not.

‘Thanks for keeping me in the loop. I know you're probably needed elsewhere.' She was under no illusion that this particular cardiologist was assigned to her only. He'd undoubtedly done her a huge favour by personally informing her of her father's condition. For reasons known only to him when he'd made it clear he hadn't forgiven her for her sins.

‘Do you need me to order you a taxi? Is there somewhere you need to be?' He eyed her small
I-left-in-a-hurry
luggage, probably keen to ship her out of his territory as soon as possible.

She'd barely packed enough for more than tonight, but that had been out of sheer panic rather than optimism.

‘I'm fine here for the night if that's allowed? I can pull a couple of chairs together.' She hadn't thought beyond getting here before it was too late, never mind overnight accommodation. Since it was still touch and go, her personal discomfort didn't seem that important.

‘You can't sleep here. I'm sure you're exhausted.'

There was a pause and a heavy sigh before he continued. ‘I'll give you a lift back to Strachmore and get the keys from my mum to let you in.'

Nate sounded resigned to homing her for the night, as if she were a stray dog he'd picked up on the side of the road and was stuck with until help arrived. This was how things had always been between them—Nate finding solutions to problems of her own making. Except back then he'd always seemed to enjoy coming to her rescue.

‘Honestly, I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'm sure you have other patients to see and this means I'm close if anything happens during the night.' If she was honest she wasn't sure her family home would be any more inviting than this windowless broom cupboard.

Nate dipped his head, looking decidedly sheepish. ‘My shift finished hours ago. I'm all yours.'

A shiver played across her skin, teasing every tiny hair to attention. It was her guilt at keeping him at his post through some misplaced sense of loyalty manifesting. Definitely not a physical reaction to him offering herself up to her.

‘I can't ask you to—'

‘You didn't. I'm volunteering.' He was already grabbing her bag and robbing her of her refusal even though he made his offer sound as if he'd had no other choice.

He paused by the door and fixed her with those soul-reaching eyes. ‘The night staff will phone you, and me, if there's any change. I'll get you back here in a flash if it comes to it.'

‘Only if you're sure?' She'd finally run out of excuses not to go home.

* * *

Violet waited in the car while he paid his parents a visit. She hoped it was quick. The longer they were travelling companions with this elephant from the past, the more likely they were going to have to acknowledge it. She wasn't ready to face that, or the Taylors. Not that she held any ill will against the pair—after all, they were the ones who kept this place running—but she was tired and definitely not in the mood for grand reunions or lectures. Nate had left the engine running and the heater on so he clearly didn't intend to loiter either. He was probably every bit as eager as she was to put today behind him.

She shifted in the leather bucket seat, which was marginally more comfortable than the hospital waiting chairs. The mode of transport she was being chauffeured around the countryside in was still something of a shock to her system. To see the boy who'd spent his summers working umpteen jobs to save cash had splashed out on a bright red sports car was more surprising than if he'd turned up on an ancient motorbike and sidecar. It was almost as though he was sticking two fingers up at everyone who'd treated him as a second-class citizen in his youth and told him he'd never amount to anything beyond Strachmore. Ironically, the youngest member of the Dempsey family relied on public transport to get her from A to B. It was more practical for city life but it also had the added bonus of ticking off her father.

She watched Nate stride back to the car in the muted evening light. He could easily pass as the master of the big house now he'd swapped his ripped jeans for those tailored suits. Although, he would probably look good in anything. Or nothing.

Whoa!

Those teenage hormones she'd thought she'd left behind long ago had apparently resurfaced and mutated into adult ones. It had been a long, emotional day and clearly she was misinterpreting his reluctant kindness for something...sexier.

She cleared her throat as he opened the car door and climbed back into the driver's seat. If only she could clear her mind of the images she'd planted there as easily. Her wayward thoughts weren't helped by the fact his tall frame was packed so tightly into the car, his thighs were almost touching hers.

‘Mum's in a tizzy about not having the place cleaned for your arrival. I assured her I'd roll the red carpet out for you myself but we'd best get out of here before we run into a cleaning mob brandishing mops and dusters.'

Violet ignored the barb, simply grateful he'd run interference for her, when Mrs Taylor was probably bursting with questions for her. ‘I'm sure the house is as spotless as ever with your mother at the helm. I only wish I could clone her and take her back to London with me.'

Unlike Strachmore Castle, her poky flat was never going to make the cover of any magazines but she worked hard to pay the rent. That meant more to her than gleaming silver and polished marble floors ever would.

Nate threw the car into reverse and rested his arm along the back of her seat as he kept watch out of the back window. The smell of soap and hard-working doctor enveloped her and for a moment she was tempted to snuggle into his solid chest. He could give her comfort and a whole lot besides. Exactly why she should stick to the idea of him as only a friend, or her father's doctor, and not someone who'd taken the lead role in her first erotic imaginings.

‘Do you know how long you'll be staying? I mean, is someone holding the fort for you while you're here?' He trained his eyes back on the dark road leading from the cottage up to the main house, so Violet couldn't tell if he was fishing for personal info or making polite conversation.

‘I'll stay as long as I'm needed. I have a lot of personal leave I can use.' She preferred to keep busy with work rather than take duvet days where she had nothing to do but dwell on things beyond her control. It wasn't the first time her superiors had warned her of possible burnout if she didn't take a break from her caseload so they'd be only too happy for her to take some time off.

‘If you need anything my parents will be here to help.'

He was leaving himself out of the equation but it was a long time since Violet had relied on anyone having her back. For good reason. She'd needed to learn to stand on her own two feet to make herself stronger than her mother had been.

‘Thank you. I know you've gone out of your way to help me and I wouldn't want to get your other half offside by holding you hostage to my problems.' Okay, she
was
fishing. He'd been her first crush, her first kiss, it was only natural that this curious cat was wrestling a green-eyed monster at the thought of him going home to another woman. One who wasn't afraid to make compromises.

‘There's no danger of that. I'm a confirmed bachelor.'

Those words had the same effect as if he'd thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over her as she jumped from one conclusion to another. She'd been so caught up in her feelings for him she'd never contemplated how much his could have changed for her, or for women in general. Suddenly his new grooming regime started to take on a whole new meaning. ‘You're not—'

‘No, I'm not gay, Violet. I thought you of all people would realise I'm attracted to women.' He turned and, though Violet couldn't see his face clearly in the dim interior, she imagined he was looking at her lips, remembering
that
kiss too.

She'd managed to block it out for over a decade but here, so close to him again, it was all she could think about. That first tentative exploration of each other had soon given way to a raw passion she hadn't experienced since. These days she approached any romantic entanglements with a certain degree of cynicism and caution, which meant she was always holding back. In that moment with Nate's lips on hers she'd given no thought to consequence or complications that could arise. That had come later when she'd tried to imagine a future together and failed. He didn't belong in her world and vice versa. Ironically they seemed to have traded places anyway.

As the stately home loomed into view of the car headlights, the butterflies in her stomach turned kamikaze, dive-bombing her insides until there was a chance she might hurl over the expensive leather upholstery. At least it was wipe-clean.

‘Home sweet home.' Nate's attempt at humour was a welcome distraction from the memories assaulting her from the second the stone pillars of the eighteenth-century house came into view.

Her father, spit forming at the corners of his mouth when she defied him by sneaking out to a concert with Nate.

Violet hiding in the old servants' quarters when she was supposed to be dining with the Montgomery family, whose son had been deemed a suitable match for her at the age of seventeen.

The empty pill bottle by her mother's bedside.

Dark humour was definitely the cure for dark memories.

‘In case you can't see it, I'm giving you the death stare.'

Nate gave a hearty chuckle, letting the serious doctor mask slip for a glimpse of her old friend. ‘Nostrils flaring, mouth puckered up like you've just licked a lemon, eyes narrowed to mere slits—I can picture it now.'