Jennifer Taylor - A Very Special Child

‘Fine by me,’ she declared, doing her best to rise to the occasion. ‘But don’t blame me if you come off worst!’

The words were hardly out of her mouth when Robbie let loose another deluge of water. She found herself laughing quite freely as Mark splutteringly wiped foam out of his eyes. ‘You were warned!’

She quickly scooted out of the bathroom as he threatened her with a handful of suds, and was still smiling as she made her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and found eggs and bacon, a couple of tomatoes which wouldn’t have won any prizes, plus half a dozen shrivelled mushrooms, then set to work to the accompaniment of a lot of excited squealing from the bathroom. However, it was only as she was lifting the bacon out of the pan that she realised how right it felt to be doing this, how very natural.

She put the pan back on the hob and took a deep breath, but her heart was thudding so hard that she couldn’t think straight. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps thinking about why she should feel like this would do more harm than good. For one night at least she should forget about the problems, forget about the rights and wrongs, the yeses and the nos. She would take the next few hours as they came…

‘That was delicious! I don’t suppose you’d like a career change? I’m in desperate need of a chief cook and bottle-washer.…’

Mark sighed comically as Laura smilingly shook her head. The eggs and bacon had been devoured in an appreciative silence which had been like balm to her overwrought nerves. Not only had she been able to eat the meal but she’d actually enjoyed it. She had been right to let events run their own course rather than worrying, she decided as she got up to take their plates to the sink.

‘No, you did the cooking so I’ll do the washing-up. It’s only fair.’ Mark got up as well and gently but firmly pressed her back into her seat. Laura shivered as she felt the pressure of his fingers against her flesh. Suddenly she was back to square one. Obviously, it was one thing to decide to let fate dictate what happened and another to carry it through!

She scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over her stool in her haste. They had eaten at the breakfast bar, a neat little contraption which pulled out from the wall and provided seating facilities in the tiny kitchen. However, with two of them standing, one of them being exceptionally large, the room seemed to shrink even more.

She bit her lip as she tried to edge past Mark to plug in the kettle. ‘Excuse me,’ she muttered, turning bright pink as she felt her breasts rub against the solid wall of his chest. He had discarded his wet shirt in favour of a T-shirt in a washed-out shade of blue which made his eyes look like grey velvet in contrast. It was obvious that the garment was an old favourite because the cloth had that worn-thin softness about it that provided little barrier between their two bodies.

Laura felt the flush on her cheeks deepen as her nipples peaked in response to his nearness. She quickly slid past him, keeping her face averted as she filled the kettle and plugged it in. Mark didn’t say anything as he carried on clearing the table, but there was less comfort in the silence than there might have been.

Had he noticed her response just now? she wondered miserably. And had he been as shocked by it as she was? After all, they were little more than strangers so surely anyone would have been shocked to witness such blatant evidence of her…her arousal!

Her hands shook so hard as she took two cups out of the cupboard that one of them slipped through her fingers and shattered as it hit the tiled floor. Laura gasped in dismay, her eyes filling with tears as she saw what she’d done.

‘I’m sorry! I don’t know how that happened. Oh, I don’t know what to say…’ She knelt down to gather up the shards of china, wincing as she inadvertently knelt on a jagged piece.

‘Leave it! It’s only a cup, Laura. It doesn’t matter.’ Mark was beside her in an instant, his face full of concern as he saw the blood welling through her tights.

‘Hell’s teeth, you’ve cut your knee!’ he declared, drawing her upright with a firm hand under her elbow. Pulling over one of the kitchen stools, he urged her to sit down. ‘Sit there while I get the first-aid kit from the bathroom.’

‘There’s no need…’ she began, but he was already hurrying from the room. She rested her head against a cupboard and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by misery and shame. How could she have felt like that just now? How could she have responded that way to any man apart from Ian?

‘Here we go.’

Mark came back with a green plastic box and placed it on the worktop close to where she sat. He opened the lid then turned to her. ‘Can you take those tights off so that I can check there’s nothing in that cut?’

Laura’s face flamed at the thought of undressing in front of him, but before she could assure him that the injury was too minor to require any attention he added smoothly, ‘I’ll just get some water to clean it with while you do that.’

Deliberately, he turned his back on her as he went to the sink and ran water into a basin. It was obvious that he’d sensed her reluctance to comply with his request and was giving her some privacy.

Laura got up and quickly wriggled the ruined hose over her hips then tossed the small bundle into the waste bin. ‘I…I’m ready,’ she said in a quiet little voice, studiously avoiding Mark’s gaze as he looked round.

‘Good.’ He came back with the basin and knelt in front of her. Lifting her foot onto his bent knee, he carefully examined the cut. Laura bit her lip, trying not to think about how it felt to have his cool fingers skating so gently over her warm flesh, but it was impossible not to be aware of the sensations they aroused. Flashes of heat and cold raced under her skin, making her alternately shiver and burn as if with fever. When he looked up it was an effort to feign indifference as she saw the concern in his eyes.

‘It really hurts, doesn’t it? Damn!’

He seemed to blame himself for her injury, which was so unfair that she hastened to reassure him. ‘It isn’t too bad. And it was my own fault for being so clumsy. I’m not usually so careless, Mark. I’m sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter…honestly!’ He shook his head to emphasise the point so that a swathe of light brown hair fell across his forehead. Laura was instantly transported back to that morning when they’d met. In a flash she recalled how he had looked dressed in those shorts and vest, his skin gleaming with health and vitality over those perfectly toned muscles.

Her breath caught so that she had to make a conscious effort to exhale, and missed what he said. Why was she so aware of him? she wondered sickly. Why did he arouse feelings in her which no man apart from Ian had been able to do?

‘Laura?’

He touched her lightly on the hand and she flinched. He’d obviously noticed her abstraction but he made no mention of it as he quietly repeated the question. ‘Are you allergic to adhesive dressings?’

She shook her head so that the red-brown curls danced around her face. ‘I…I don’t think so,’ she muttered, barely able to think straight in her confusion.

‘Hmm, a very professional answer, Nurse Grady.’ His mocking tone was the best antidote in the world and she tried harder to concentrate.

‘Then, no, I’m not allergic to adhesive dressings or anything else, apart from strawberries,’ she declared firmly.

‘Strawberries, eh? I shall have to bear that in mind.’ He took a square of adhesive dressing out of the box and peeled off the backing then pressed it over the wound.

Laura bit her lip, refusing to let the question slip out. Asking why Mark should need to remember her allergy was a definite step in the wrong direction! After all, what difference could it make to him what she could and couldn’t eat?