‘How did we end up here, Vi?’

Things might have worked out so differently if she’d been brave then and given them a chance, regardless of what anyone had thought. He’d been so in love with her that all she’d have had to do was give him the word and he would have gone anywhere with her, done anything for her. Now he was a man on his own, too scarred to let anyone into his life.

‘I don’t know, but sometimes I wish I could go back.’

With Violet standing here in his dining room, wearing nothing more than his shirt and a smile, this was as far from those innocent days as they could get.

‘I can’t say I’d rather be anywhere else.’

Nate leaned in to kiss her, reasoning that twice in twelve years wasn’t going to wreak too much havoc. He simply wanted to find out if her lips were as soft and sweet as he remembered.

They were.

He should have left it at one gentle peck on the lips—enough to reconnect and erase the bad feeling left with her departure. When he opened his eyes and saw her lips parted for more, felt her hands slide around his neck in submission, he couldn’t recall any reason to hold back. They both wanted this. In some ways they needed it to enable them finally to move on.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss he’d waited too long to repeat.

Dear Reader,

There has been no greater loss in my life than that of my mother. It changed my life beyond recognition, but thankfully I had the love and support of my husband and family to help me through it.

When I pictured my heroine, Violet, going through that grief as a teenager I knew the kind of strong but damaged woman she’d become further down the line. It will take someone like cardiologist Nate, who has always known her better than anyone else, to reach behind that tough façade and help heal her wounded heart.

The best part of writing this book was my research into the Dempsey family’s ancestral home. It was a good excuse to travel the country, taking afternoon tea in stately homes and imagining all the drama and romance going on behind closed doors.

I thoroughly recommend reading this with a cup of tea and a slice of cake—or two!

Karin xx

KARIN BAINE lives in Northern Ireland with her husband, two sons, and her out-of-control notebook collection. Her mother and her grandmother’s vast collection of books inspired her love of reading and her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author. Now she can tell people she has a proper job! You can follow Karin on Twitter, @karinbaine1, or visit her website for the latest news—karinbaine.com.

The Doctor’s
Forbidden
Fling
Karin Baine

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Tammy. From one special snowflake to another. Our field trip was epic! xx

Special thanks to my IT guru, Cherie, who dragged this technophobe kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century and managed not to throat-punch me in the process!

As always, I couldn’t have told this story without help. A big hug to my editor, Laura, to Chellie, Susan and Alison, and an extra squishy one for Amalie for her author guidance too. xx

Praise for Karin Baine

‘The moment I picked up Karin Baine’s debut medical romance I knew I would not be disappointed with her work. Poetic and descriptive writing, engaging dialogue, thoroughly created characters and a tightly woven plot propels French Fling to Forever into the must-read, highly recommended level.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews

‘This is a wonderfully written book and one I could not put down and had to finish. You will not be disappointed in Karin Baine’s writing.’

—Goodreads on French Fling to Forever

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Praise for Karin Baine

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

IN VIOLET DEMPSEY’S experience the family room in a hospital department was where good news and hope came to die. It was in one of these seemingly innocuous side rooms she’d learned of her mother’s fate and now she was waiting to hear of her father’s too. He was fighting for his life in the cardiac care unit down the corridor while she was staring at the wall waiting for that ominous knock at the door.

She knew how crucial the first few hours after a heart attack were and she’d spent them trying to organise a flight back to Northern Ireland from London. Even that relatively short drive from Belfast to the Silent Valley Hospital in County Down had seemed like an eternity when her father was so close to death.

Their relationship was strained to say the least, since she refused to conform to her role as the daughter of an earl, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. After watching her mother’s struggle to fit into society life, Violet had simply decided to take her own path rather than the one her father had paved for her. They’d barely spoken since.

The tap on the door still made her jump even though she’d been expecting it. This was the reckoning. Life or death. Her stomach clenched as the door opened and the harbinger of impending doom swooped in. Except this was no po-faced stranger invading the already claustrophobic space.

‘Nate?’

He was taller, broader and better groomed than she remembered but she’d recognise that dimpled smile anywhere. The hardest thing she’d ever had to do was walk away from that handsome face twelve years ago. She had no clue what he was doing here but he’d always had that knack of knowing exactly when she’d needed him.

‘Hello, Violet. Or should I say Lady Violet? It’s been a while.’ He closed the door behind him and took the seat opposite her. It was so like Nate to plonk himself in the middle of her problems without a formal invitation.

‘It has, but as I recall you were never one to stand on ceremony. Violet is just fine.’ She hoped he was teasing her rather than trying to rile her when he understood better than anyone how much she hated her title.

They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, on any terms really since she’d left without a word of explanation. Although he would have just cause to turn his back on her after what had happened, or even want a showdown to confront her about her behaviour, she was counting on him cutting her some slack in the circumstances. The old Nate would always have put her needs first and it was odd enough trying to come to terms with the fully formed man version of her childhood companion without finding out he might’ve completely changed character since their last meet too. Especially as she was just as attracted to Nate the adult.

The dark blond floppy hair had been tamed into a dapper short back and sides, the boyish face now defined with a sleek jawline and dusted with enough stubble to be fashionable and sexy. The son of Strachmore Castle’s domestic staff had apparently swapped his hard-wearing flannel shirts for more tailored, expensive attire. He could easily have moved in her family’s circle of friends now. If either of them had ever wanted that. One impulsive teenage kiss had effectively ended their friendship and sent Violet scurrying off to London before she committed to something that could never have worked.

Nate cleared his throat and she realised she’d been staring longer than an old friend ought to. The heat started to build in her cheeks as she recalled their last meet when they had ventured into new realms of their relationship.

‘So... I assume you’re here at your father’s behest? He told me he was the one who phoned for the ambulance.’ She steered the conversation, and her mind, away from dangerous territory. There was nothing like the thought of disapproving parents to pour cold water on certain heated moments that should be left in the past.

Nate leaned forward in the chair, forcing Violet to meet those hazel eyes she’d forgotten were so easy to get lost in. ‘It was Dad who found him, but that’s not why I’m here. This chat is of a more...professional nature. I’m a doctor here. Your father’s cardiologist, in fact.’

She opened her mouth to tell him to stop messing about, then closed it again when she saw how serious he was. There was a ghost of a memory of the sister in charge mentioning a Dr Taylor but she’d never imagined this scenario in her wildest dreams.

‘I didn’t even know you’d gone to medical school,’ she blurted out before she realised how bad that sounded. Cold. As though the spoilt brat with the privileged upbringing had swanned off and never looked back. That their time together had meant nothing to her.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t cared, or thought about him, over the years. Quite the opposite. She’d been afraid she’d become too interested in the life and times of Nate Taylor. For the sake of her new independent life away from her family’s estate, she’d deemed it necessary to sever all ties with the one person who could’ve convinced her to stay.

‘I mean, I keep contact with home to a bare minimum.’ She wanted to justify her ignorance of his success in her absence. Of course she wasn’t vain enough to imagine he’d spent all this time tending the grounds with his father, waiting for her return. She simply hadn’t thought of him as being so...ambitious.

‘I decided medicine would be a better paid, more respected profession compared to following family tradition into service.’ There was that same old chip on the shoulder that had dominated conversation between them for hours in the old boathouse. Obviously their determination to branch away from the routes their parents had chosen for them had shaped both of their lives. For the better.

‘You’ve certainly done well for yourself.’ Not that it made a difference to her. Nate was a good person at heart, no matter what salary he brought home. The very reason she’d needed to create some distance between them. He’d deserved better than getting mixed up in the hell that was society life when her main goal had been to escape it.

‘I’m sure I’ve surprised a few people round here by working my way out of a minimum-wage lifestyle. Now, I hear you’ve gone into nursing yourself so I’m sure you’ll understand the seriousness of your father’s condition.’ He was definitely pricklier than she remembered and not above shaming her by displaying greater knowledge of her achievements than she had of his.

Violet’s inner teenager with the schoolgirl crush couldn’t help but wonder if he’d specifically sought out that information about her, or if his mother had simply been bending his ear. As the housekeeper at Strachmore, Mrs Taylor liked to keep her finger on the pulse, and that extended even as far as London. Every now and then Violet fielded prying phone calls from her father’s well-meaning employee and, although she tried to keep details of her new life to a minimum, snippets of her successes and failures tended to slip through. The failures mostly related to relationships when the purpose of these communications was primarily to see if Violet had found herself a husband yet. Not in this lifetime. To her, marriage meant giving up everything you were to make another person happy and she’d seen first-hand the damage that could do. The fact she was here without her mother was proof enough it didn’t work.

‘Mental health is more my area of expertise.’ Violet had felt so powerless after her mother had taken her own life she’d wanted to train in an area where she could make a real difference. It could be a challenging role at times but one that brought its own rewards. She was doing her best to emotionally save lives, if not physically like Nate.

That little nugget apparently was news to him, as his raised eyebrows finally gave an indication he felt something more than indifference to her.

‘I guess that’s...understandable and admirable.’

The compliment was hard won. Not that Violet had chosen her profession to gain brownie points from anyone, but Nate seemed reluctant to give her credit for getting off her backside to work instead of languishing in that house. It was another reminder they’d left those summer afternoons planning their escape far behind.

‘Us kids done good.’ For old times’ sake she decided to praise them both for doing exactly what they’d said they would and breaking free from their parents’ hold.

Although, her father would’ve been appalled by her murder of the English language after paying for her elocution lessons. That was exactly why she’d relished doing it so frequently during her adolescence. Credit where it was due though, those hours spent improving her pronunciation had probably made her transition to London easier than sounding like a Northern Irish Eliza Doolittle. Perhaps she owed the old man some credit even if it had felt as if he was trying to force her to be someone she wasn’t at the time.

‘And yet here we are...’

She knew he was trying to get her to focus back on what was happening here and now but the words held a different meaning for her. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to completely separate her world from her father’s.

‘Okay, give it to me straight. Is he going to make it?’ At some point she was going to have to apologise for running out on him but that would mean having to explain why she’d done it. It wasn’t the time or place for that intense personal conversation, given the reason they were both here.

The scowl marring Nate’s brow was further indication that her father was as bad as she’d feared. ‘As you know, your father has suffered a myocardial infarction—a heart attack. He was unresponsive when the paramedics arrived and they had to resuscitate him on scene.’

It was no wonder Mr Taylor’s message had been so fragmented and frantic. Technically, her father had died. She really didn’t know how to feel about that. Since her mother had passed away Violet had resented him—for the way he’d treated her and for not being the one to have gone in her place. Now she was faced with the possibility of losing him too, things didn’t seem so clear-cut. When you stripped away the bad memories and anger, he was still her father. She was starting to understand why her mother hadn’t been able to simply walk away when the going got too rough. Sometimes having a conscience could be a terrible thing.

‘A heart attack,’ she repeated. Even though she’d heard it from others, coming from Nate somehow made it more real.

He nodded. ‘It’s been confirmed by blood tests. The increased levels of cardiac enzymes have indicated the presence of damage to the heart muscle. We’ll continue taking bloods every six to eight hours as well as running electrocardiograms, ECGs, to monitor his heart’s electrical activity and make sure there are no further complications. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be crucial. Our first line of treatment would usually be emergency angioplasty to widen the arteries and allow easier blood flow to the heart. Unfortunately your father has proved...opposed to that idea.’

Nate didn’t sugar-coat it. He didn’t need to. They both knew she preferred straight talking to well-meaning platitudes. That way she wouldn’t get hurt by hidden truths further down the line. Such as finding out her mother’s overdose hadn’t been as accidental as she’d first been led to believe.

It was a typical response from her father to ignore advice and insist he knew better than everyone. This time it could cause his own death instead of someone else’s.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, batting away those old feelings flooding back and that helplessness at not being able to shake her father into facing facts. It hadn’t worked for her mother so her chances after all this time were slim.

‘Do we know what caused it?’ She knew nothing of his lifestyle these days but she doubted his love of whiskey and cigars had diminished since she’d last seen him. He was a man who did as he pleased and sod the consequences.

‘There’s no family history of heart disease that we know of and no current health problems, I understand. We’ll know more after we run a few tests. For now, our priority is limiting the damage to the heart.’

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give the nurses any more information.’ She grimaced, imagining the low opinion the staff were already forming of the absent daughter who couldn’t give them any insight into her own father.

‘It’s all right. I understand things have been...tricky between you both. We’ve pieced together what we could in the meantime.’

No doubt the Taylors’ close relationship with her father had played a part in gathering that information. Violet didn’t begrudge the bond the families had, but it sometimes made her feel inadequate, superfluous to requirements. Indeed, no one had ever needed her until now. Even now she wasn’t sure how her presence would be received by either side of the class divide.

‘Can I see him?’ No matter how fractured their relationship had been since her mother’s death, or how frustrating he was, he was the only family she had left. Just because she wasn’t the daughter he wanted didn’t mean she’d stopped caring about him. It simply made it more difficult.

Nate bounced back up onto his feet. ‘I might be able to pull a few strings and get you a couple of minutes with him.’

The way he’d been reacting to her she was surprised he was willing to do anything other than list the facts of her father’s condition. She figured this one must be for old times’ sake—the days before things had got complicated and she’d made him despise her.

Determined to make the most of this breakthrough, she followed him into CCU, bobbing up and down like a meerkat keeping watch for predators as she tried to locate the patient. Nate strode through the ward with an air of confidence and authority she’d never seen in him before. It suited him. She had a sense of pride in him as patients and staff alike sat up straighter as he walked by. Finally people other than her had realised his worth in this world.

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

NATE 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.’

Violet flattened her lips back into a thin line with a huff. She could hear the smugness in his voice that he still knew her better than anyone even after all of this time.

They pulled up into the driveway and the sound of the handbrake meant there was no more stalling.

‘Thanks for everything. I can let myself in.’

‘No can do. I told you I’m under instruction to escort Lady Violet inside her ancestral home. Don’t forget, under different circumstances I could’ve ended up as your official errand boy.’

He was being facetious. Violet knew he would never have played the skivvy any more than she would’ve been the boss lady. Still, it conjured up more interesting images if they’d chosen different paths.

She let out a long sigh and admitted defeat. Having a surly Nate here was infinitely more bearable than having Mrs Taylor fussing around her, or setting foot back inside alone. It was one thing going home to an empty flat at night but an entirely different game coming back here where the ghosts of her past roamed the hallways.

* * *

Nate really needed to work on that keeping-at-arm’s-length ethos where relationships were concerned. He’d thought he’d built up a tolerance to all things Dempsey since his teenage heartbreak. One glimpse of those big blue eyes and he was taking on the duties of the whole domestic staff who’d once resided here—the chauffeur, the butler and housekeeper all rolled into one. He told himself his promise to light a fire and see her settled in was the only way to keep his parents at bay and Violet’s discomfort to a minimum. They meant well, their subservient role so deeply ingrained in them the very thought of Lady Violet returning to a cold, empty house brought them out in a cold sweat. He knew this would be difficult enough for her without an audience and he still had a duty of care via her father.

Despite their history, or possibly because of the one they’d had pre-kiss, he still felt an obligation to help her. Perhaps he wasn’t as far removed from his heritage as he liked to think. He’d really been the only one Violet had had to turn to when things had got rough and it would be callous for him to abandon her now for the sake of his own pride. He simply hadn’t been able to leave her for the night in that waiting room, expecting her to bed down where she stood. In a fit of madness he’d even briefly contemplated taking her back to his house rather than expect her to face this place alone.

Ultimately he’d done enough damage to his relationship boundaries already. She was only back in the country five minutes and he’d already landed himself firmly in the friend zone. Not a position he wanted to be in with any beautiful woman. Especially one he already had an emotional history with. One who’d dumped him without a second thought. Then there was the double blow to his ego with the whole gay thing. He knew one teenage fumble probably hadn’t made a long-lasting impact on her but he’d assumed it had been enough to define his sexuality.

Now he’d slipped back into a supporting role there was no way he was ever going to win top billing as Violet’s leading man. If he’d once imagined taking her back into his arms and replacing that inexperienced make-out session with a more confident approach to recover his male pride, he’d stuffed up the minute he’d insisted on staying to talk to her about her father. Friends or lovers—there was no in between for him when it came to the women in his life. He didn’t even want to peek inside people’s personal baggage, never mind help them unpack it, and yet that was exactly what he was doing now. The pressure was on him more than ever to save his patient and return everyone back to their normal status quo. As soon as he’d done the gentlemanly thing and seen her settled in, he could walk away with a clear conscience. He’d proved the better person by not exacting revenge.

‘You put the kettle on and I’ll get the fire started.’ He opened the heavy front door with a reverence the stately home deserved even if the current owner didn’t. It was a beautiful building, full of history and wonder. Unfortunately it also held negative connotations for those entering it tonight. While Violet had been the princess held captive in the tower, he’d very much been the lowly serf kept in his place by his master. He’d dealt with a lot of those issues through hard work and determination but he couldn’t help feeling Violet still had to face hers. Although he still had an axe of his own to grind with her, he wasn’t totally unsympathetic. It was best he try to make this as normal as possible for her. As if they were walking into any other family home and not the country pile of her ancestors. Easier said than done when there was a huge chandelier dominating the space in front of them.

‘We do have modern-day conveniences like central heating.’ She was still resisting his attempts to phase her into her surroundings gradually with his assistance, but he was used to dealing with difficult patients and bolshie family members.

She was more defensive than he remembered. He guessed years of independent living had toughened her up. A definite plus given his aversion to needy people outside the workplace.

‘And kettles?’

It amused him to watch her flounce away the way she used to when his teasing went too far. It was further proof her fiery spirit was very much alive. She was going to need it to see her through the next days, whatever they held.

‘Milk, no sugar,’ he called after her as he headed for the study.

It was the closest and smallest room on the ground floor, and easier to heat. The pale blue walls and ornate white ceiling of the entrance hall were pretty and in keeping with the period pieces dotted throughout but they didn’t make the cool atmosphere any more inviting. Okay, they had no practical need for a fire but there was something homely about a real fire. It was cosy and welcoming, something this house was sadly lacking.

He could sense the disapproving stares of past earls staring down at him from the walls as he trespassed into the inner sanctum. They all had the same stern features of Samuel Dempsey. Nate wondered if not smiling was another one of the house rules Violet had deigned to disobey. Ruling with an iron fist might have worked in the olden days but, as far as he’d seen, all it had succeeded in doing in recent times was shatter the family.

‘Is this where they found him?’

He hadn’t heard Violet enter the room as he’d knelt to set the fire in the hearth. It wasn’t until he turned around again that he understood why she’d sounded so pained.

Her father’s papers littered the mahogany and brass writing desk and spilled onto the floor, his chair toppled over in the corner of the room with a whiskey tumbler lying next to it—the contents of which had seeped into the antique rug long ago.

‘I’m so sorry, Violet. I had no idea. We can move into the drawing room and I’ll get this tidied up.’ Regardless of the painful history between them, he would never have purposely exposed her to this scene. He took the rattling cups and saucers from her shaking hands before she slopped the tea on the expensive furnishings too.

‘It’s all right. It was just a shock.’ She righted the heavy chair and Nate set down the tea things so he could help.

They both bent down to reach for the upturned glass at the same time, Violet’s bracelet clinking against it in the process. He reached for her wrist, curiosity getting the better of common sense.

‘Is this the one I bought you?’ It was only a cheap turquoise bead bracelet with a dainty seahorse charm hanging from it. So unlike the diamonds and pearls her mother had favoured on occasion. He was surprised it had stood the test of time, even more so to find she still wore it.

A trace of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘Yes. From the day at the aquarium.’

The day things had changed between them for ever.

‘You were fascinated by those damn seahorses.’

She’d stood for ages watching them as if she’d found her peace there and he’d wanted her to have a souvenir of that summer afternoon together. He hadn’t known it would be their last.

‘They’re just so...serene. I envy the simplicity of their life. And, of course, it’s the male who gives birth. The female seahorse has a much freer life than most women, she transfers her eggs and goes back to her own place—the onus isn’t on her to carry on the family line.’ It was a tragic narrative of Violet’s childhood when she’d been jealous of a fragile species trapped in a tank. At least now she was free of some of her burden even if it had cost Nate a piece of his heart in the process.

He flicked the charm up with his thumb so it rested on his nail. So small, so inexpensive, so evocative. If that day had meant nothing to her, if he’d meant nothing to her, why would she still be attached to it now? He felt her pulse quicken beneath him, met her eyes with his, and they were back in that bubble where nothing mattered except the chemistry.

He didn’t know who’d leaned closer to whom but suddenly they were no more than a breath away from kissing. Violet’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips were parted and waiting for him. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to give into temptation. Despite how much she’d hurt him in the past, he’d wanted to do this the minute he’d seen her again but this was typical Violet behaviour. She couldn’t drop him and pick him up when the mood took her. Not any more. Especially when she still hadn’t done him the courtesy of an apology or an explanation, never mind simply acknowledging what she’d done to him.

Unfortunately physical attraction couldn’t always override common sense. A kiss was much more than that when it was with your first love, the woman who’d broken your heart without a backward glance.

He let go of her wrist and stepped away from temptation. As he began to collect his thoughts away from her lips, the Earl’s collection of antique clocks chimed the late hour and sounded the death knell for this...whatever the hell it was.

* * *

When he didn’t swoop in and ravage her, Violet was afraid to open her eyes and face him. She’d done it again—gone with her heart instead of her head. Thank goodness one of them had been thinking clearly this time. She shuddered at how close she’d come to making another monumental mistake when she’d yet to address the last one she’d made with Nate. Her world was complicated enough now without resurrecting old emotions like zombies wandering through her life with no real purpose except causing eternal misery for everyone in their path. She needed to remember that every time she was tempted to lose herself in his embrace, that one place she was able to forget her troubles.

In her defence she’d been under a lot of pressure today and Nate had been her one source of comfort, the only familiar thing from home that didn’t make her want to run screaming. Even in his current indifferent state. She blamed her faux pas entirely on stress. Apparently making moves on hot doctors was a side effect of tangled emotions no one had warned her about. They hadn’t covered that in her course. Then again, Nate was the professional—he should’ve known he was in danger simply by being in the room with her.

In fact, he seemed to have found the best treatment for her particular case by continuing to pick up the debris around them and ignoring the latest addition to the elephant herd now parading around the room.

‘No wonder Mum was so frantic about getting this place tidied up before you set foot inside. I guess they just locked up the house once the ambulance left.’ Nate in cleaning mode was as efficient as his mother and Violet decided to follow his lead. Time and distance hadn’t made this any more feasible.

They worked quietly together, sifting her father’s correspondence into manageable piles. The quicker they got this sorted, the easier it would make it for Nate to leave. She knew him well enough to know he’d see this out until the end, when he’d fulfilled his obligation to her and his parents.

‘Violet?’ After some time he drew her attention to a stack of letters headed with bold red lettering.

‘Mmm?’

‘These are all bills. Most of them final demands.’

‘Let me see.’ She snatched a few from his grasp and confirmed it. All correspondence, most of it threatening action against him, was leading to the conclusion her father was in dire financial trouble.

She collapsed into the chair with such force she almost toppled it over again. This was too much for her to handle on top of everything else today. Somehow she was going to have to fix this. She just had no idea how.

‘You had no clue this was going on?’ Nate spoke softly, as if he was afraid of spooking her even more.

The façade her father had presented to the world all these years had duped many into thinking their fortune was never ending. She’d known differently.

‘The place has been leaking money for years but I didn’t know things were this bad.’ Her father’s spending and refusal to admit they were in trouble had been the source of many an argument in the house before her mother died. The worry and uncertainty about the future had certainly contributed to her mother’s fragile state of mind but he hadn’t taken any responsibility then and he wasn’t likely to do so now.

‘What? There’s no magical pot of gold hidden under the floorboards?’ Nate pretended to be surprised the place didn’t run by reputation and superiority complexes alone.

‘Unfortunately not.’ She lifted the stack of bills and slammed them back down on the table. This wasn’t his problem. Hell, it wasn’t even hers.

Whatever happened to her father, Violet knew she was going to have to be the one to sort this out. She should have known better than to come back. It had been inevitable that she’d get sucked back into her father’s delusions of grandeur and the repercussions of stark reality. Perhaps she should have done as she was told at seventeen and agreed to marry Lord Montgomery’s son. At least she might’ve been in a position now to help financially, possibly with her mother still around too.

This new discovery threatened to undo all the progress she’d made in her new life. Nothing had changed in her absence, she’d simply avoided dealing with it. She was back to being that frightened girl, lonely and overwhelmed by the burden her father had put upon her.

She wanted to confront him, scream and cry, and walk away for ever. Now she could do none of those things. She was stuck here. Again.

‘I’ll worry about these tomorrow, as soon as I know he’s made it through the night. Then I might go up there and kill him myself.’

Nate arched an eyebrow at her with a smirk. ‘Now, I know you don’t mean that. I told you, there’s help available. It’s a shame you Dempseys are too damn stubborn for your own good. You don’t have to do this on your own.’

Deep down she knew he was talking about his parents or some other official source of financial advice but it gave her more comfort to imagine he was still in her corner. ‘You’re the only person who was ever there for me, you know.’

Reuniting with Nate was the only light in this darkness and she wanted to run towards the safety she knew was there. For a little while she didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. He could help her forget, take her to that happy place away from all of this mess. What was one more mistake when her life was crumbling around her? All she had to do was convince him, and herself, this wasn’t the big deal it had been when they were teenagers.

Suddenly she was tired of being strong, of bearing the weight of Strachmore on her shoulders alone.

‘Stay with me tonight, Nate.’

Nate’s body reacted to the invitation before his brain kicked in and listed all the reasons this was a bad idea. He ignored all parts of him straining to make the decision for him, knowing Violet would regret this in the morning, as he would. For altogether different reasons. This was his chance to exorcise that painful rejection for good, but he knew her well enough to understand what this was really about. Her way of dealing with difficult matters had always been to divert her attention elsewhere, put off tackling the hard stuff for as long as possible. Violet was the Queen of Procrastination and he’d always been the Fool, keeping her entertained and distracting her from the hardships within the castle walls.

Not any more. He’d made certain he was King of his own castle since those days.

‘I think it would be better if I went home.’

She’d let him know he wasn’t good enough for her before and he wasn’t going to be the consolation prize now.

She stood up so she was close enough to invade his personal space and trailed a fingertip down the front of his shirt. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this, about us—’

She didn’t need to say any more. He was already picturing them together in bed, giving into that chemistry he’d never been able to forget.

He took a deep breath to purify his thoughts and make sense of hers. She’d taken an emotional battering today and he’d never take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable. Lord knew he wanted her and it was an ego boost to know it was reciprocated this time but it didn’t change circumstances. Friend or lover? He reminded himself he couldn’t be both and remain sane. He’d breached the professional boundary long ago and only friendship had remained before he’d ended up in no-man’s land—a minefield he had to tiptoe through, full of the sort of explosive situations he’d happily avoided since he was nineteen.

‘We’re both adults, single, with no illusions this would be anything more than sex. I need the distraction.’ It was confirmation of exactly where he stood with her and that wasn’t any place of importance. She might as well have been hiring an escort for the evening for all the emotional significance she afforded him.

Normally that kind of detachment wasn’t a problem. In fact he welcomed it. It stopped things becoming too messy. However Violet wasn’t a faceless one-night stand. Uncomplicated sex should never involve the woman whose rejection had made you so cynical about relationships in the first place.

‘Unfortunately, sharing a bed is not the modern-day equivalent of hanging out in the boathouse pretending real life isn’t happening around us.’ His heavy dose of honesty transformed Violet’s coquettish eye-fluttering into a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, I’ve-just-been-slapped-in-the-face expression.

He was pretty sure he’d worn that same look once before and he took no satisfaction in being the one to cause it this time.

‘You’re right. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.’

He could see the shame clouding her eyes already. That wasn’t what he wanted either.

‘There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than taking you to bed right now, but I think it would be a mistake. For both of us. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He knew she didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t intend falling into that old pattern of being at her beck and call again. He’d invested too much in that before and paid the consequences.

‘You always were the sensible one.’ She gave him a wobbly smile and Nate knew he had to get out of here before the tears really did fall. When she finally did give into the real emotions she was trying to hide from, he knew he’d never be able to leave her.

‘And you always were the impulsive one.’ He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to talk her out of doing something stupid—like running away or sabotaging her father’s dinner parties with laxatives. It was probably the reason she hadn’t confided in him about moving to London. She hadn’t wanted to be talked out of it.

This proposition was most likely a cry for help rather than an unyielding need to have him in her bed, but it didn’t make it any easier to resist.

‘Goodnight, Violet.’

He wondered if she’d ever regretted walking away as much as he did now.

CHAPTER THREE

THE TROUBLE WITH the countryside was the quiet. There was no traffic noise to drown out Violet’s thoughts and nowhere to go to escape her shame. She’d spent most of the night replaying the moment she’d made a complete fool of herself with Nate. Lord knew what he thought of her throwing herself at him like some nympho desperate for a quick lay. She shuddered, the cringe factor at an all-time high as she recalled the look of disgust on his face as he rejected her advances. All he’d done was show her some kindness, more than she deserved, and she’d implied she was only interested in his body. Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, okay, his body had been on her mind since she’d first seen him suited and booted but she’d needed him for so much more than that. She’d tried to use sex to get him to stay when she was really yearning for his company.

After one bombshell too many, her common sense had been blown to pieces. There was no other logical explanation for her behaviour last night. These past years of being so strong, so independent had skewed her idea of friendship until she’d seen it as a weakness. Until yesterday, when Nate had reminded her how good it was to have someone in your corner fighting your battles with you. In her messed-up head, sleeping with Nate had seemed like the only way to recapture that fantasy world they’d had when they were young but he’d called her on it. She had no right to expect anything from him when she’d been the one to burst that bubble in the first place. What had been the point of walking away then if she was simply going to drag him back into all Strachmore’s problems now?

In the cold light of day Nate’s refusal to stay had probably been the most sensible option but her ego was still a little bruised. Clearly he’d done what she’d ultimately wanted for him at the time and moved on from her. She should be happy about it. Not wondering what, apart from her badly executed proposition, had turned him off her. That one kiss had been so full of love and passion for her she hated to think she’d killed it stone dead with her actions, even though she’d acted in what she’d thought was in both of their interests.

At least not sleeping with Nate meant minimal embarrassment when she would inevitably run into him again. The good news this morning was that her father had made it through the night and was as well as could be expected for a man determined to be in control of his own destiny at any cost.

Now that the sun was up she was keen to get to the hospital and see him but her thoughts were as muddled as ever when it came to her father. Last night she’d been afraid for him, and herself, as far as his health and finances were concerned. Yet there was also that lingering resentment that he’d brought her back here, unintentionally or not. These rose-covered walls and four-poster bed might be the stuff of little girls’ dreams but to her this had always been a prison, a place that had robbed her of her freedom. Even as an adult she was still trapped here.

She tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the thick wool carpet reminding her she wasn’t in Kansas any more. The wooden floors throughout her flat served a dual purpose—minimum cleaning and a stand against her old-fashioned upbringing.

She wandered down the halls trying to find the beauty in her opulent surroundings and failing. The shiny, gilded trinkets and ornate antiquities were exquisite but at what cost? She would’ve taken a childhood in a one-bedroom council flat if it had meant she could’ve had her mother back. Not so her father. Even when his wife had begged him to downsize to stem their outgoings, he’d refused to part with the family silver or make any concessions to give her peace of mind. If anything, he’d become more extravagant, throwing lavish parties to prevent the rumour mill churning with stories about the depleted family coffers. Her mother had been expected to be compliant in the façade, playing the glamorous, gracious hostess while quashing her anxiety with a cocktail of drugs.

Violet slid her hand over the smooth mahogany bannister leading down the staircase. It took her to a happier period when the house was her playground and this was her slide taking her from one floor to another. With few friends outside her preparatory school, she’d had to make her own entertainment when she’d been waiting for Nate to finish working in the grounds with his father. At least with him she’d never had to pretend to be something she wasn’t. She shouldn’t have tried to do that last night by making out she was some sort of good-time girl.

Perhaps he’d seen right through her façade the way he’d always been able to and realised she’d simply been acting out of fear. That thought was preferable to the one where he didn’t find her attractive any more and enough to spur her on to get dressed and face the day ahead.

* * *

So many elements of what happened last night had been playing on Nate’s mind. The most persistent one being Violet’s indecent proposal and why he’d turned her down. He doubted she felt any more for him now than she had back then and surmised she’d been trying to use him as a sticking plaster over the wound coming back here had reopened. He knew he’d ultimately made the right decision. Going down that path again would only have led to that same dead end it had taken him years to navigate his way out of.

In hindsight her flight to London rather than take the next step with him had probably been for the best. Nothing had changed since then. Except they were no longer best friends and self-preservation was a higher priority for him now.

The discovery of the Earl’s debts had added to his disturbed sleep; he was worried not only for Violet but for his family too. Regardless of his own thoughts on Strachmore, or the people who resided there, his parents were very much a part of it. Any financial problems would affect them too when it was their livelihood, and their affiliation was the only thing keeping a roof over their heads. The cottage was the only perk of the job as far as he could see and one that would certainly vanish along with the Dempseys. Strachmore’s problems were also his now. He couldn’t stand by and watch his parents lose their home simply because he and Violet had unresolved issues. They were all going to have to work together to find a solution. The future was going to have to be more important than the past.

He’d made Samuel Dempsey his first port of call on the ward rounds this morning to follow his progress. All had been quiet since the last dramatic intervention to restart his heart so Nate hoped this was the start of his recovery. There was no associated arrhythmia, with the heart beating too quickly, too slowly, or irregularly, which could sometimes occur after a heart attack. It would take a while to assess the full damage done to the heart and how much tissue would be able to recover but, for now, he was stable.

That was more than could be said for another one of his elderly patients, who’d suffered severe heart failure and had undergone stenting of his coronary arteries yesterday. The balloon catheter supposed to inflate/ deflate timed by the patient’s heartbeat and support the circulation hadn’t been beneficial in this case. After examining him, Nate had had to concede that a large part of the heart muscle had died and nothing more could be done. A younger patient might have been a candidate for further surgery but it had been decided at the morning multi-disciplinary meeting not to pursue any further investigation. Already weak, the patient wouldn’t have survived another round of intrusive surgery. It wasn’t the outcome he wanted for any of his patients, no matter what their age or circumstance. He absorbed every loss as though it were personal, his failing. If anything happened to the Earl he’d never forgive himself for letting Violet or his parents down.

After seeing in-patients, outpatients and performing a pacemaker insertion, he’d come full circle back to CCU. Deep down he’d known Violet would be here.

* * *

‘Hey, Dad.’ Violet was glad to see he was a bit more with it and his pallor was a lot less grey today. She’d been sitting around for hours waiting for all the tests and scans to be completed before she got to see him. Making her own way to the hospital this morning had seemed like a better plan than car-sharing with the man who didn’t want to sleep with her but it also meant no string-pulling visitor privileges.

‘Violet? What are you doing here?’ His eyes were flickering open and shut as though he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe what he was seeing. It was no wonder when she’d spent so long out of the country, and his life.

‘The doctors have told you what happened, right?’ She didn’t want the responsibility of breaking the news to him; he wasn’t invincible. He’d probably call her a liar if she tried.

‘A heart attack.’ He nodded and closed his eyes again. She couldn’t tell if he was tired, zoned out on drugs or annoyed she was here. Probably all three. She was the last person he’d want to see him weak and out of control.

‘I wanted to make sure you were all right.’ It was weird saying that when she’d barely let him enter her thoughts until recently. He’d been out of sight, out of mind, to enable her to move forward. Until one phone call had forced her to acknowledge he was still part of her life whether she liked it or not.

She stood by the bed, arms folded and doing her best to sound strong, as if admitting she’d been scared for him would somehow give him power back over her.

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