Karin Baine – Midwife Under The Mistletoe (страница 8)

It was easy to recall the feel of Fraser’s hands, strong and capable as he’d cradled her after the fall, and imagine how they might feel on different parts of her body. Iona soaped a flannel up her arms and across her chest, startled that her thoughts of Fraser had turned so...carnal.

She let out a groan and covered her face with the cloth. It wasn’t as though she’d become a nun on leaving her abusive ex but she’d put her career ahead of any notions of settling down again after being bitten, and a relationship of any kind had been the furthest thing from her mind. As far as she’d discovered, they only brought pain and heartache to everyone involved and she’d had enough of that to know she was better off unattached.

Now she’d settled into her position here and got her foot on the property ladder, it seemed her neglected libido was making a bid for freedom too. Its untimely reappearance around a man with the uncanny knack of riling her temper was entirely inconvenient—a weakness in the armour she’d built around herself since her reinvention. This warrior queen no longer needed anyone to give her life meaning.

Iona ducked her head under the suds, letting the hot water envelop her whole body in a warm hug. It had obviously been way too long since she’d enjoyed the physical benefits of a relationship of any description when her mind was dragging her towards that riptide with the potential to pull her back under.

In her watery cocoon Iona thought she could feel a dull vibration coming from somewhere beneath the flat. She sat upright, listening to the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the tap, which almost lulled her back down into the depths of soapy luxury until the shrill ring of the doorbell and more thumping noises downstairs prompted her to action. Someone was desperate for her attention.

‘I’m coming!’ she yelled, pulling on her dressing gown with no heed to the water sluicing onto the bathroom floor. There was no time to dry or dress if she was to get to the door before they left so she simply belted the robe around her naked body to protect her modesty.

Fraser was the last person she expected to find on her doorstep.

‘What’s wrong? Did you forget something?’ She couldn’t think of any other reason that would have brought him back again so soon.

‘No. I...er...thought you could use these.’ He glanced over his shoulder towards the stack of chairs Iona hadn’t noticed currently blocking the path.

‘And they couldn’t wait until tomorrow?’ Although it was a nice gesture, it hadn’t warranted an immediate return visit tonight. The impulsive act was so out of character she was thrown by his possible motive. Was this intended to impress her or an attempt to impose his authority in all areas of her life?

Iona folded her arms and did her best to make Fraser realise she wasn’t impressed that he’d interrupted her ‘me’ time for the sake of a couple of chairs so he wouldn’t get used to the idea of dropping in at will. It did the trick as he grimaced and gave her his best game-show-host impression in trying to sell her the quality of his wares with a flick of his hands.

‘I couldn’t bear to think of you here in this empty flat when I have a load of furniture sitting in storage.’ He gestured to the vehicle behind him, having apparently exchanged the practical car he drove to work for a gas-guzzling four-by-four packed with other household goods.

‘Really? This has absolutely nothing to do with you trying to fix me? I know you, Fraser, and how much my empty apartment was probably keeping you from sleeping.’ Her cynical eyebrow took on a mind of its own as she searched for a dark ulterior motive behind the selfless offer. He’d made it obvious he had issues with her laid-back approach to her interior décor but she hadn’t realised it was to the extent he’d empty the contents of his home to spruce hers up.

‘Sorry. I was trying to do you a favour. I probably should’ve asked first.’ Fraser took a step back, shoulders slumped with such dejection Iona may as well have told him never to darken her doorstep again. It was a trick she’d seen her ex use time and again to garner her sympathy and she’d always fallen for it, believing she’d been judging him too harshly and accepting an apology for whatever misdeed he’d committed against her. Only for him to exploit that weakness, lull her back into a false sense of security and strike even harder next time around.

She was less trusting these days but she had absolutely no obligation to Fraser so if he did overstep the mark in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate in bouncing him back down the path.

‘I’m not dressed for company, or furniture delivery.’ Standing here in the cold, face to face with the subject of her recent fantasies, made her aware that she was clad only in a layer of terry towelling.

‘No problem. If you want to put some clothes on, I can bring the stuff inside for you then I’ll get out of your hair.’ There certainly didn’t appear to be any sign of anything untoward going on behind his earnest expression and she could use the items he was offering. This would be no run-of-the-mill second-hand furniture either, having probably been vacuum packed in plastic wrap to prevent it being spoiled.

‘If you insist.’ She left the door open and scarpered back upstairs to put some clothes on. Things were awkward enough without hanging around him semi-naked and partially aroused.

Iona did take her time getting ready, going as far as drying her hair before venturing out of her bedroom again. Fraser deserved a hard time for trying to organise her life for her so she let him sweat for a while. Literally.

When she walked back into the living room he was breathing heavily, the sleeves of his once pristine shirt now rolled up and her flat looking as though someone actually lived in it.

Not only had he carted all the heavy furniture up a flight of stairs single-handed, he’d arranged it all and tidied up the mess she’d left on the floor earlier.

‘You really didn’t have to do this,’ Iona protested, tightening her grip on that theory Fraser was only doing it to exert some control over her. Yet, amongst the seats and the table he’d set up, there was also a small electric fire and a television solely provided for her comfort and not any obvious ulterior motive. Perhaps he deserved some credit for his thoughtfulness but that meant accepting she’d been on his mind tonight too and she certainly didn’t want to contemplate the implications of that.

‘I wanted to,’ Fraser said simply, and continued unpacking a bag onto her kitchen worktop.

‘What are you doing?’ As far as she was aware, she was the only one named on the mortgage and she hadn’t advertised for a lodger but here he was, making himself at home.

‘I didn’t think you’d had time to do a shop so I picked up a few essentials for you on the way over.’

Bread, bacon, butter, eggs, milk and a huge chocolate bar lined the counter as though he knew her shopping list off by heart. Although he was providing the means to christen her new home with all her favourites, Iona didn’t want him to think she was a pushover, someone who could be trained with titbits of chocolate. She was in charge of her life now and didn’t need anyone making decisions on her behalf. It would be easy to take all his efforts at face value, and as much as she wanted to believe he only had the purest of intentions at heart she had to protect herself by assuming the worst. Andy had made it impossible for her to trust anyone, especially handsome men who seemed too good to be true.

‘You really didn’t have to. I’m quite capable of going to the shop myself, thank you.’

‘I know. I just thought—I wanted you to feel more at home. Sorry.’ He started to pack the groceries back into the bag and the waver in his confidence about being there had guilt gnawing at Iona’s insides that she’d got him wrong. Perhaps Fraser was simply trying to do something nice for her after all. Learning to trust new people was a long and difficult journey every time, no matter how hard she wanted to speed up the process.

‘No, it’s okay. Leave them.’ Iona reached out and touched his hand to get him to stop and show him the gifts were appreciated. His sharp intake of breath and her reluctance to move back out of his personal space drew them back into that fizzing awareness of attraction to one another.

This thing between them was nothing either of them could control but she knew Fraser didn’t want to act on it any more than she did. They were complete opposites; they’d drive each other crazy.

Every nerve ending in her body was drawing Iona closer, telling her to submit once and for all. Yet, with Fraser refusing to succumb too, she held her ground. A rejection now would be humiliating every day for the rest of her working life here. If he declined her advances now, it would give him the perfect excuse to undermine her the next time they clashed at the clinic, blaming her hurt feelings for her next bout of stubbornness. A risk she wasn’t willing to take if it could jeopardise any future decisions regarding her patients’ welfare.