One Season And Dynasties Collection

So why did that thought rankle her?

She took a deep breath and stepped back into the room, trying to avert her eyes without being obvious. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was embarrassed. With an attitude like his, she’d never live it down.

He was rummaging in a black holdall. Now she could see the muscles across his back. No love handles for him. He yanked a pale blue T-shirt from the bag and pulled it over his head, turning round and tugging it down over his washboard stomach.

‘Ready. Can we go?’

Cassidy had a strange expression on her face. Brad automatically looked down. Did he have a huge ketchup stain on his T-shirt? Not that he could see. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, matching the soft pink jumper she was wearing. A jumper that hugged the shape of her breasts very nicely. Pink was a good colour on her. It brought out the warm tones in her face and hair that had sometimes been lost in the navy-blue tunic she’d been wearing earlier. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a short ponytail, with a few wayward curls escaping. She was obviously serious about helping him move. No fancy coats and stiletto heels for her. Which was just as well as there were around fifty boxes to lug over to his new flat.

‘Will you manage to carry some of these boxes down to my car?’

‘I’ll do better than that.’ She opened the door to reveal one of the porters’ trolleys for transporting boxes of equipment around the hospital. The huge metal cage could probably take half of his boxes in one run.

‘Genius. You might be even more useful than I thought.’

‘See, I’m not just a pretty face,’ she shot back, to his cheeky remark. ‘You do realise this is going to cost you, don’t you?’ She pulled the cage towards the duty room, letting him stand in the doorway and toss out boxes that she piled up methodically.

‘How much?’ As he tossed one of the boxes, the cardboard flaps sprang open, spilling his boxers and socks all over the floor.

Cassidy couldn’t resist. The colours of every imagination caught her eyes and she lifted up a pair with Elmo from Sesame Street emblazoned on the front. ‘Yours?’ she asked, allowing them to dangle from one finger.

He grabbed them. ‘Stop it.’ He started ramming them back into the box, before raising his eyebrows at her. ‘I’ll decide when you get to see my underwear.’

When. Not if. The thought catapulted through her brain as she tried to keep her mind on the job at hand. The boxes weren’t neatly packed or taped shut. And the way he kept throwing them at her was ruining her precision stacking in the metal cage.

‘Slow down,’ she muttered. ‘The more you irritate me, the more my price goes up. You’re currently hovering around a large pizza or a sweet-and-sour chicken. Keep going like this and you’ll owe me a beer as well.’

The cheeky grin appeared at her shoulder in an instant. ‘You think I won’t buy you a beer?’ He stared at the neatly stacked boxes. ‘Uh-oh. I sense a little obsessive behaviour. One of your staff warned me about wrecking the neatly packed boxes of gloves in the treatment room. I can see why.’

‘Nothing wrong with being neat and tidy.’ Cassidy straightened the last box. ‘Okay, I think that’s enough for now. We can take the rest downstairs on the second trip.’

Something flashed in front of his eyes. Something wicked. ‘You think so?’

He waited while she nodded, then as quick as a flash he shoved her in the cage, clicking the door behind her and pushing the cage down the corridor.

Cassidy let out a squeal. For the second time today she was surrounded by piles of toppling boxes. ‘Let me out!’ She got to her knees in the cage as he stopped in front of the lifts and pushed the ‘down’ button.

His shoulders were shaking with laughter as he pulled a key from his pocket for the ‘Supplies Only’ lift and opened the door. ‘What can I say? You bring out the wicked side in me. I couldn’t resist wrecking your neat display.’

He pulled the cage into the lift and sprang the lock free, holding out his hands to steady her step. The lift started with a judder, and as she was in midstep—it sent her straight into his arms. ‘Ow-w!

The lift was small. Even smaller with the large storage cage and two people crammed inside. And as Brad had pressed the ground-floor button as he’d pulled the cage inside, they were now trapped at the back of the lift together.

She was pressed against him. He could feel the ample swell of her breasts against his chest, her soft pink jumper tickling his skin. His hands had fallen naturally to her waist, one finger touching a little bit of soft flesh. Had she noticed?

Her curls were under his nose, but there was no way he was moving his hands to scratch the itch. She lifted her head, capturing him with her big brown eyes again.

This was crazy. This was madness.

This was someone he’d just met today. It didn’t matter that he felt a pull towards her. It didn’t matter that she’d offered to help him. It didn’t matter that for some strange reason he liked to be close to her. It didn’t matter that his eyes were currently fixed on her plump lips. He knew nothing about her.

Her reputation had preceded her. According to her colleagues she was a great nurse and a huge advocate for her patients, but her attention to detail and rulebook for the ward had become notorious.

More importantly, she knew nothing about him. She had no idea about his history, his family, his little girl out there in the world somewhere. She had no idea how the whole thing had come close to breaking him. And for some reason he didn’t want to tell her.

He wanted this to be separate. A flirtation. A distraction. Something playful. With no consequences. Even if it only lasted a few weeks.

At least that would get him past Christmas.

‘You can let me go now.’ Her voice was quiet, her hands resting on his upper arms sending warm waves through his bare skin.

But for a second they just stood there. Unmoving.

The door pinged open and they turned their heads. His hands fell from her waist. She turned and automatically pushed the cage through the lift doors, and he fell into step next to her.

The tone and mood were broken.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind helping me with this? You could always just draw me a map.’

She stuck her elbow in his ribs. ‘Stop trying to get out of buying me dinner. What number did you say the flat was? If I find out I’ve got to carry all these boxes up four flights of stairs I won’t be happy.’

They crossed the car park and reached his car. She blinked. A Mini. For a guy that was over six feet tall.

‘This is your car?’

‘Do you like it?’ He opened the front passenger door, moved the seat forward and started throwing boxes in the back. ‘It’s bigger than you think.’

‘Why on earth didn’t you just leave some stuff in the car?’

Brad shrugged. ‘Luca borrowed my car last night after he helped me move my stuff. I think he had a date.’ And some of his boxes were far too personal to be left unguarded in a car.

Cassidy shook her head and opened the boot, trying to cram as many of the boxes in there as possible. She was left with two of the larger ones still sitting on the ground.

She watched as he put the passenger seat back into place and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I can just put these two on my lap. It’s only a five-minute drive. It’ll be fine.’

Brad pulled a face. ‘You might need to put something else on your lap instead.’

She felt her stomach turn over. What now?

‘Why do I get the distinct impression that nothing is straightforward with you?’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the porter’s lodge at the hospital gate, leaving the two boxes next to his unlocked car. ‘Come on.’

‘Where on earth are we going?’

‘I’ve got something else to pick up.’

He pushed open the door to the lodge. Usually used for deliveries and collections, occasionally used by the porters who were trying to duck out of sight for five minutes, it was an old-fashioned solid stone building. The front door squeaked loudly. ‘Frank? Are you there?’

Frank Wallace appeared. All twenty-five stone of him, carrying a pile of white-and-black fur in his hands. ‘There you are, Dr Donovan. He’s been as good as gold. Not a bit of bother. Bring him back any time.’

Frank handed over the bundle of black and white, and it took a few seconds for Cassidy to realise the shaggy bundle was a dog with a bright red collar and lead.

Brad bent down and placed the dog on the floor at their feet. It seemed to spring to life, the head coming up sharply and a little tail wagging furiously. Bright black eyes and a pink panting tongue.

‘Cassidy, meet Bert. This is the reason I lost my tenancy.’

Cassidy watched in amazement. Bert seemed delighted to see him, jumping his paws up onto Brad’s shoulders and licking at his hands furiously. His gruff little barks reverberated around the stone cottage.

He was a scruffy little mutt—with no obvious lineage or pedigree. A mongrel, by the look of him.

‘Why on earth would you have a dog?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You live in Australia. You can’t possibly have brought him with you.’ Dogs she could deal with. It was cats that caused her allergies. She’d often thought about getting a pet for company—a friendly face to come home to. But long shifts weren’t conducive to having a pet. She knelt on the floor next to Brad, holding her hand out cautiously while Bert took a few seconds to sniff her, before licking her with the same enthusiasm he’d shown Brad.

‘I found him. A few weeks ago, in the street outside my flat. He looked emaciated and was crouched in a doorway. There was no way I could leave him alone.’ And to be honest, I needed him as much as he needed me. Brad let the scruffy dog lick his hands. Melody would love this little dog.

‘So what did you do?’

‘I took him to the emergency vet, who checked him over, gave me some instructions, then I took him home.’

‘And this is why you got flung out your flat?’ There was an instant feeling of relief. He hadn’t been thrown out for non-payment of rent, wild parties or dubious women. He’d been thrown out because of a dog. She glanced at his face as he continued to talk to Bert. The mutual admiration was obvious.

The rat. He must have known that a dog would have scored him brownie points. No wonder he’d kept it quiet earlier. She would have taken him for a soft touch.

She started to laugh. ‘Bert? You called your dog Bert?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What’s wrong with Bert? It’s a perfectly good name.’

‘What’s wrong with Rocky or Buster or Duke?’

He waved his hand at her. ‘Look at him. Does he look like Rocky, Buster or Duke?’

He waited a few seconds, and Bert obligingly tipped his head to one side, as if he enjoyed the admiration.

Brad was decisive. ‘No way. He’s a Bert. No doubt about it.’

Cassidy couldn’t stop the laugh that had built up in her chest. Bert wasn’t a big dog and his white hair with black patches had definitely seen better days. But his soft eyes and panting tongue were cute. And Brad was right. He looked like a Bert—it suited him. She bent down and started rubbing his ears.

‘See—you like him. Everyone should. He’s a good dog. Not been a bit of bother since I found him.’

‘So how come you got flung out the flat? And what about the new one? I take it they’re happy for you to have a dog?’

Brad pulled a face. ‘One of my neighbours reported me for having a dog. And the landlord was swift and ruthless, even though you honestly wouldn’t have known he was there. And it was Frank, the porter, who put me onto the new flat. So I’m sorted. They’re happy for me to have a dog.’

Cassidy held out her arms to pick up the dog. ‘I take it this is what I’m supposed to have on my lap in the car?’

Brad nodded. ‘Thank goodness you like dogs. This could have all turned ugly.’

She shook her head, still rubbing Bert’s ears. ‘I’m sure it will be fine. But let’s go. It’s getting late and I’m starving.’

They headed back to the car and drove down the road past Glasgow University and into the west end of Glasgow. Lots of the younger hospital staff stayed in the flats around here. It wasn’t really designed for kids and families, but for younger folks it was perfect, with the shops, restaurants and nightlife right at their fingertips.

‘So what do you like best about staying around here?’

Cassidy glanced around about her as they drove along Byres Road. She pointed to the top of the road. ‘If you go up there onto Western Road and cross the road, you get to Glasgow’s Botanic Gardens. Peace, perfect peace.’

Brad looked at her in surprise. ‘Really? That’s a bit unusual for someone your age.’

‘Why would you think that? Is it only pensioners and kids that can visit?’ She gestured her thumb over her shoulder. ‘Or if you go back that way, my other favourite is the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum—as long as the school trips aren’t there! There’s even a little secret church just around the corner with an ancient cemetery—perfect for quiet book reading in the summer. Gorgeous at Christmastime.’

Brad stared at her. ‘You’re a dark horse, aren’t you? I never figured you for a museum type.’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s the peace and quiet really. The ward can be pretty hectic. Some days when I come out I’m just looking for somewhere to chill. I can be just as happy curled up with a good book or in the dark at the cinema.’

‘You go to the cinema alone?’

She nodded. ‘All the time. I love sci-fi. My friends all love romcoms. So I do some with my friends and some on my own.’ She pointed her arm in front of them. ‘Turn left here, then turn right and slow down.’

The car pulled to a halt at the side of the road next to some bollards. Cassidy looked downwards. Bert had fallen asleep in her lap. ‘Looks like it’s been a big day for the little guy.’

Brad jumped out of and around the car and opened the passenger door. He picked up the sleeping dog. ‘Let’s go up and have a look at the flat before I start to unpack the boxes.’

‘You haven’t seen it yet?’

He shook his head. ‘How could I? I was on call last night and just had to take whatever I could get. I told you I’d no idea where this place was.’

Cassidy smiled. ‘So you did. Silly me. Now, give me the key and we’ll see what you’ve got.’

They climbed up the stairs in the old-style tenement building, onto the first floor, where number five was in front of them. Cassidy looked around. ‘Well, this is better than some flats I’ve seen around here.’ She ran her hand along the wall. ‘The walls have been painted, the floors are clean, and …’ she pointed to the door across the hallway ‘… your neighbour has some plants outside his flat. This place must be okay.’

She turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. Silently praying that she wouldn’t be hit with the smell of cats, mould or dead bodies.

Brad flicked the light switch next to the door and stepped inside. He was trying to stop his gut from twisting. Getting a flat that accepted dogs at short notice—and five minutes away from the hospital—seemed almost too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere.

The catch was obvious. Cassidy burst into fits of laughter.

‘No way! It’s like stepping back in time. Have we just transported into the 1960s?’ She turned to face him. ‘That happened once in an old Star Trek episode. I think we’re just reliving it.’

Brad was frozen. The wallpaper could set off a whole array of seizures. He couldn’t even make out the individual colours, the purples and oranges all seemed to merge into one. As for the shag-pile brown carpet …

Cassidy was having the time of her life. She dashed through one of the open doors and let out a shriek. ‘Avacado! It’s avocado. You have an avocado bathroom! Does that colour even exist any more?’ Seconds later he heard the sounds of running water before she appeared again, tears flowing down her cheeks. ‘I love this place. You have to have a 1960s-style party.’

She ducked into another room then swept past him into the kitchen, while Brad tried to keep his breathing under control. Could he really live in this?

He set down the dog basket on the floor and placed the sleeping Bert inside. His quiet, peaceful dog would probably turn into a possessed, rabid monster in this place.

He sagged down onto the purple sofa that clashed hideously with the brown shag-pile carpet. No wonder this place had been available at a moment’s notice.

He could hear banging and clattering from next door—Cassidy had obviously found the kitchen. He cringed. What colour was avocado anyway? He was too scared to look.

Cassidy reappeared, one of her hands dripping wet, both perched at her waist. ‘Kitchen’s not too bad.’ She swept her eyes around the room again, the smile automatically reappearing on her face. She walked over and sat down on the sofa next to Brad, giving his knee a friendly tap. ‘Well, it has to be said, this place is spotlessly clean. And the shower’s working.’ She lifted her nose and sniffed the air. ‘And it smells as if the carpets have just been cleaned. See—it’s not so bad.’

Not so bad. She had to be joking.

And she was. He could see her shoulders start to shake again. She lifted her hands to cover her face, obviously trying to block out the laughter. His stomach fell even further.

‘What is it?’

He could tell she was trying not to meet his gaze. ‘Go on. What else have you discovered in this psychedelic temple of doom?’ He threw up his hands.

Cassidy stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her. For a second he was confused. What was she doing? Sure, this had crossed his mind, but what did she have in mind?

She pulled him towards the other room he hadn’t looked at yet—the bedroom. Surely not? He felt a rush of blood to the head and rush of something else to the groin. This couldn’t be happening.

She pushed open the door to the room, turning and giving him another smile. But the glint in her eyes was something else entirely. This was no moment of seduction. This was comedy, through and through.

He stepped inside the bedroom.

Pink. Everywhere and everything. Pink.

Rose-covered walls. A shiny, satin bedspread. Pink lampshades giving off a strange rose-coloured hue around the room. Pink carpet. Dark teak furniture and dressing table. He almost expected to see an eighty-year-old woman perched under the covers, staring at them.

Cassidy’s laughter was building by the second. She couldn’t contain herself. She spun round, her hands on his chest. ‘Well, what do you think? How’s this for a playboy palace?’

His reaction was instantaneous. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her with him, toppling onto the bed, the satin bedspread sliding them along. He couldn’t help it. It was too much for him and for the next few minutes they laughed so hard his belly was aching.

They lay there for a few seconds after the laughter finally subsided. Brad’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, staring at yet another rose-coloured light shade.

He turned his head to face Cassidy’s. ‘So, tell me truthfully. Do you think this flat will affect my pulling power?’

Cassidy straightened her face, the laughter still apparent in her eyes. She wondered how to answer the question. Something squeezed deep inside her. She didn’t want Brad to have pulling power. She didn’t want Brad to even consider pulling. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d only met this guy today. Her naughty streak came out. ‘Put it this way. This is the first time I’ve lain on a bed with a man, panting like this, and still been fully dressed.’

His eyebrows arched and he flipped round onto his side to face her. ‘Well, Sister Rae, that almost sounds like a challenge. And I like a challenge.’

Cassidy attempted to change position, the satin bedspread confounding her and causing her to slide to the floor with a heavy thud.

Brad stuck his head over the edge of the bed. ‘Cass, are you okay?’

She held up her hand towards him and shook her head. ‘Just feed me.’

Fifty boxes later and another trip back to the hospital, they both sagged on the sofa. Brad pulled a bunch of take-away menus from a plastic bag. ‘I’d take you out for dinner but I don’t think either of us could face sitting across a table right now.’

Cassidy nodded. She flicked through the menus, picking up her favourite. ‘This pizza place is just around the corner and it’s great. They don’t take long to deliver. Will we go for this?’

‘What’s your favourite?’

‘Thin crust. Hawaiian.’

‘Pineapple—on a pizza? Sacrilege. Woman, what’s wrong with you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me—you’re a meat-feast, thick-crust man?’

He sat back, looking surprised. ‘How did you know?’

‘Because you’re the same as ninety per cent of the other males on the planet. Let’s just order two.’ She picked up the phone, giving it a second glance. ‘Wow, my parents had one of these in the seventies.’ She listened for a dial tone. ‘Never mind, it works.’ She dialled the number and placed the order.

‘So, what do you think of your new home? Will you still be talking to Frank in the morning?’

Brad sighed. ‘I think I should be grateful, no matter how bad the décor is. I needed a furnished flat close by—it’s not like I had any furniture to bring with me—so this will be fine.’ He took another look around. ‘You’re right—it’s clean. That’s the most important thing.’ Then he pointed to Bert in the corner. ‘And if he’s happy, I’m happy.’ The wicked glint appeared in his eyes again. ‘I can always buy a new bedspread—one that keeps the ladies on, instead of sliding them off.’

There it was again. That little twisting feeling in her gut whenever he cracked a joke about other women. For the first time in a lifetime she was feeling cave-woman primal urges. She wanted to shout, Don’t you dare! But that would only reveal her to be a mad, crazy person, instead of the consummate professional she wanted him to think she was.

He rummaged around in a plastic bag at his feet. ‘I’m afraid I can’t offer you any fancy wine to drink. I’ve got orange or blackcurrant cordial.’ He pulled the bottles from the bag. ‘And I’ve got glasses in one of those boxes over there.’

Cassidy reached over and opened the box, grabbing two glasses and setting them on the table. ‘So what’s your story? What are you doing in Scotland?’ And why hasn’t some woman snapped you up already?

‘You mean, what’s a nice guy like me doing in a place like this?’ He gestured at the psychedelic walls.

She shrugged. ‘I just wondered why you’d left Australia. Do you have family there? A girlfriend?’ She couldn’t help it. She really, really wanted to know. She’d wanted to ask if he had a wife or children, but that had seemed a bit too forward. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and he hadn’t mentioned any significant other. And he’d been flirting with her. Definitely flirting with her. And for the first time in ages she felt like responding.

‘I fancied a change. It seemed like a good opportunity to expand my experience. Scottish winters are notorious for medical admissions, particularly around old mining communities.’ He paused for a second and then added, ‘And, no, there’s no wife.’ He prayed she hadn’t noticed the hesitation. He couldn’t say the words ‘no children’. He wouldn’t lie about his daughter. But he just didn’t want to go there right now. Not with someone he barely knew.

Cassidy nodded, sending silent prayers upwards for his last words, but fixed her expression, ‘There’s around two and half thousand extra deaths every winter. They can’t directly link them to the cold. Only a few are from hypothermia, most are from pneumonia, heart disease or stroke. And last year was the worst. They estimated nine pensioners died every hour related to the effects of the cold. Fuel payments are through the roof right now. People just can’t afford to heat their homes. Some of the cases we had last year broke my heart.’