Return of Dr Maguire (Mills & Boon Medical) (11 page)

She brushed a tendril of hair back from her forehead, hoping she looked more composed than she felt, and said unnecessarily, ‘Oh, there you are!’

He stood there, smiling engagingly, with a bottle of wine in one hand and a large box of chocolates in the other, his eyes lingering for a microsecond over her tall, slender figure.

‘Hello, there, Dr Lennox! I’ve been dreaming of this meal all day. All through Mrs Phillip’s description of the trouble she’s been having with her haemorrhoids, and likewise Mr Burn’s saga about his bad feet, my stomach’s been rumbling with anticipation...’

Christa pulled a wry face. ‘Oh, God. I’m awfully sorry, but I’m afraid your dreams of a meal are going to be dashed,’ she said, leading him through to the little living room. ‘Dinner’s off, and I hope you’re not allergic to eggs!’

CHAPTER SIX

L
ACHLAN
THREW
BACK
his head and laughed. ‘That’s a great welcome! But an omelette would be fine—anything that doesn’t come in a fast-food packet!’

‘The thing is,’ Christa explained, ‘I forgot to tell my lovely neighbour to turn on the slow cooker, and then Ahmed rang to say he’s stuck at Heathrow. The evening’s been a disaster before it’s even started!’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Lachlan, his eyes twinkling at her. ‘I think we can manage without Ahmed or the full-blown meal. Tell you what—I’ll uncork this wine and you start throwing the eggs in the pan. How about that?’

And that is what she did, and after a mushroom and tomato omelette and a bit of salad, along with two glasses of very nice Sauvignon Blanc, somehow the evening didn’t seem such a disaster after all.

There wasn’t a dearth of conversation—Lachlan had plenty of questions to ask about the practice, and although they talked about improvements to the surgery, the vexed question of the development of the land never came up.

The dining table was in an alcove in the little sitting room, and a wood fire burned in the grate—it all looked cosy and warm. Christa had decorated the walls in a soft cream and the sofa and chairs were covered in modern striped upholstery. Lachlan looked around approvingly, taking in the neat pine dresser against the wall and the little desk under the window—just the right size for the room.

‘This is a lovely little place,’ he said. ‘You seem to have struck just the right note. Not too old-fashioned, and it looks bright and fresh. I’m at a complete loss to know what to do with Ardenleigh. The rooms are beautiful, but I’ve not a clue how to furnish them. I’d like a fresh start, I think.’

The wine seemed to have loosened Christa’s tongue and she found herself saying brightly, ‘Could I help at all? I rather enjoy planning the colours in rooms’

He pounced on the idea enthusiastically. ‘That would be fantastic! Let’s make a firm date for you to come and look at it all. The place is really far too big. I’m beginning to realise that, and yet, well, it’s such a beautiful house, and although there’s just me, it’s always been a dream of mine to live in it again.’

‘Your mother wanted you to have it, didn’t she? She left it to you. And as for it being too big, you’re bound to have a family eventually.’

Lachlan raised an amused eyebrow. ‘Am I? I don’t think I’m the type to marry, settle down and have children. At least, I’ve no plans in that direction. Keep your options open, I say!’

So just like Colin, then, play the field, never give yourself completely, thought Christa grimly. Love and commitment didn’t seem to be in their vocabularies.

Lachlan watched her expression and said quietly, as if in explanation, ‘Marriages that break down can have a devastating effect on a family—I know that. Never give promises you may not be able to keep.’

Christa bit her lip. He was probably referring to his own parents’ marriage, and it certainly seemed to have affected him deeply, to the point of him leaving his home. Her own father had died some years ago, but he and her mother had had a very happy and loving marriage. Christa’s childhood had been idyllic, and although it had been horrible when her father had died, her mother had borne her sadness with stoicism and had taken up new interests and made plenty of friends.

Lachlan rose from his chair and walked over to the fire, standing with his back to it.

‘Talking of families—what about you? I can’t believe that there hasn’t been someone special in your life.’

He was bound to find out sooner or later, because Colin dumping her for someone else wasn’t a secret. That was part of the heartbreak, it being so public. Everyone in Errin Bridge had known they were an item. And then everyone had begun to realise that he had been playing the field at the same time as dating her—everyone except her, of course, cocooned in her safe little world of romance and love.

‘There was someone once, not any more.’ Christa’s voice sounded casual—too casual, as if she was making a deliberate effort to make a broken love affair sound of no consequence. Lachlan’s blue eyes looked at her astutely.

‘You had a bad experience, then?’

‘Like loads of people, it didn’t work out. End of story,’ she said flatly.

‘It’s never the end completely, though, is it?’ murmured Lachlan. ‘Hard to switch off from loving someone with all your heart to feeling nothing at all for them.’

‘Very perceptive of you.’ She shrugged. ‘I learned something from the experience, and I realise now that Colin and I wouldn’t have been right for each other anyway.’

Lachlan frowned. ‘Colin...?’

Christa shrugged. ‘Colin Maitland—the one you used to go fishing with when you were a little boy. He worked at the practice for a while.’ She added flippantly, ‘He did a pretty good impression of a rat while I was going out with him.’

‘He’s always had a reputation,’ growled Lachlan. ‘Now, there’s a man I thought would never settle down to marriage. You told me he was married now, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Christa gave a mirthless laugh. ‘He found her while he was going out with me—the word’s “two-timing”, I think.’ She rose from the sofa and went over to Lachlan and picked up the photo on the desk. ‘This was him on his wedding day.’

Lachlan took the photo from her and looked at it, then said slowly, ‘Why did he marry this girl if he liked to “play the field”, as you said?’

‘Because Paula became pregnant, and she’s the daughter of the MP for this area. As a local doctor Colin’s name would have been mud if he’d abandoned her. But it was a shock, I can tell you, when I heard about the engagement from someone else—not from Colin!’

‘What a sod. How long had you gone out with him?’

‘About two years. I was mad about him—and I thought he loved me too.’

The words hung in the air, bleak and heartbreaking, revealing only too well the story of shattered dreams. Christa gave a shaky little laugh. ‘I’ll never be so naïve again!’

‘Did you go to the wedding?’ he asked softly.

‘No. That was something I couldn’t bring myself to do. So he sent me that photo.’

‘As if to show you what you’d missed out on? What a bastard!’ He frowned. ‘Why on earth do you keep a photo up of the man on his wedding day?’

Christa looked at the floor, twisting her hands together, and whispered after a short silence, ‘Because...because I needed to remind myself every day that he wasn’t worth crying about...but it didn’t seem to work...’

Something in the catch of Christa’s voice made Lachlan look closely at her. She had bowed her head, but he could see a tear rolling slowly down the curve of her cheek, and then she put up a hand and brushed it away impatiently. In an instant his arm was round her shoulders, hugging her to his body and wiping away her tears with a handkerchief.

‘Christa—sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, to stir up old memories. What a dolt I am!’ He rocked her backwards and forwards as one would to comfort a child, stroking her hair gently. ‘He’s always been a selfish sod, out for his own pleasure, never mind who he tramples over. Perhaps that’s why we lost touch.’

‘It’s not your fault I’m upset,’ snuffled Christa, blowing her nose and shaking her head. ‘I’m an idiot to cry over the man. The thing is, the week before he married Paula he came round and begged me to go back to him.’

‘But he was engaged to someone else. How the hell could he do that?’ Lachlan looked down at her, and a flicker of amused sympathy flickered in his eyes. ‘Is that the reason I overheard you say you wouldn’t get married for a million pounds?’

A wry smile touched Christa’s lips. ‘Can you blame me?’

‘Of course I don’t. And since then there’s been no one?’

She shook her head and looked up at him with some spirit. ‘Absolutely not! I can do without men and sex for quite a few years, thank you very much—too much hassle!’

He chuckled and looked down at her with dancing eyes. ‘That’s my feisty girl,’ he murmured, giving her a comforting squeeze. ‘But I wouldn’t put a time limit on your celibate life, it’s a hell of a long time to be lonely.’

She laughed back at him, with a sudden feeling of release in having told her sad little story. Lachlan was right, she couldn’t condemn herself to singledom for years just because a man had hurt her in the past. She relaxed against him, and his arm around her felt comfortable, safe.

‘Perhaps you’re right...’ she murmured. ‘Maybe I should live a bit, play the field. Enjoy life!’

He stroked her soft cheek. ‘You can’t live in the past, Christa, or let the darned man ruin your future.’

In the background the wood fire crackled and Titan snored slightly in his basket. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, just the two of them together. They smiled at each other, then gradually something changed between them and the smiles faded. They were so close—standing hip to hip, her soft breasts pressed against his body, his face so near hers she could see the little grey streaks in his hair, smell the male smell of him, the clean, soapy freshness of his body.

Of course it wasn’t the first time Christa had felt that dangerous thrill of attraction towards Lachlan Maguire—she’d tried to suppress it then, but now it was like a red-hot flame flickering treacherously through her body, unstoppable. And as he held her close with his arm around her, she was only too aware of how much he wanted her as well. She knew exactly what was going to happen—could see the dark need that mirrored hers in his eyes.

Was she crazy to blank out the loneliness of the past two years by making love to a man she knew wasn’t in the market for any emotional attachment, someone she’d known for a bare two weeks, for heaven’s sake? But, then, she was under no illusions about Lachlan Maguire. He’d told her he didn’t believe in lasting love. She was going into this with her eyes open. And, hey, she wasn’t into commitment any more either, was she? She just wanted to be desired, to have fun once more.

He was still stroking her cheek gently and she put her head against his chest. ‘Lachlan...’ she faltered. ‘It’s been so long. I think I’ve almost forgotten how to...’

‘Oh, no, you haven’t, sweetheart,’ he said huskily, and lifting her face to his he brought his mouth down on her full, tremulous lips, kissing them softly at first and then more demandingly.

And whether it was the uninhibiting influence of the wine, or because she had just unburdened herself to him, Christa threw caution and sense to the winds, and it felt natural and right that she should wind her arms around his neck, arching her body against him in instant response, opening her mouth languidly to his. Her insides liquefied with longing, her heart beating a mad tattoo in her chest. Two lonely people and no strings attached, fulfilling a mutual need. Wasn’t that what she wanted? The bitter memory of Colin’s betrayal faded into the background.

Lachlan gazed down at her in the half-light of the room, examining her face—the black lashes fringing those wide, amber eyes, her full, soft lips and the tendrils of hair across her forehead.

‘Christa,’ he whispered raggedly, ‘you are so bloody delectable. When I came back, I didn’t expect to find someone like you around.’ He wrapped his arms around her tightly and put his forehead to hers. ‘You do know where this could lead, don’t you? Do you really want this to happen? Will you be sorry later?’

And she almost laughed because surely it was too late to have second thoughts with his hard frame clamped around hers and every erogenous zone in her body demanding release that very moment. She felt as if she were on a wave of euphoria, light-hearted, free of the sad thoughts that had plagued her when she’d thought of Colin.

‘Of course I want it to happen. I want it very much.’ She held back from him for a moment, her eyes dancing. ‘Is this what you meant by being “friendly colleagues”?’

His face split into a grin. ‘Certainly—if you want to interpret it like that,’ he murmured.

Lachlan pulled her gently down onto the sheepskin rug on the floor and unbuttoned the silk blouse and the wispy bra she was wearing. Then he tore off his shirt, and his hard and demanding body was on her soft skin, his lips trailing down to the little hollow in her neck, his skilful hands exploring her most secret places, arousing her to fever pitch.

And suddenly Christa realised she hadn’t forgotten what it was like to make love, and somehow it was more marvellous than she ever remembered. She ignored the tiny seed of doubt that hovered at the back of her mind—could she really live for the day, keep her feelings for Lachlan as casual as he wanted to, after what was happening?

* * *

Afterwards they lay curled around each other, and Christa fell asleep in Lachlan’s arms. He watched the embers of the fire flickering and their shadows on the wall, and the most incredible feeling of happiness swept through him. He looked down at her face against his chest. God, she was beautiful—her skin as soft as a peach and those large expressive eyes that were a running commentary on her feelings.

He’d certainly never led a celibate life—plenty of girls had given him every encouragement, but no one had awoken in him this strange and sudden tenderness he felt for Christa, or moved him like she had. Dammit, this wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? This was meant to be a light-hearted romp, neither of them committing to the other...pure lust on either side. And yet it didn’t seem to be working like that for him at all. What should have been a one-off, ships-that-passed-in-the-night scenario felt like just the beginning, the start of something precious and exciting.