Annie Claydon - Re-Awakening His Shy Nurse

‘It’s too good to hide. They’ve been repointed and I had a clear sealant put on there …’ Luke regarded the walls thoughtfully. ‘Turned out more expensive than just covering them up with plasterboard, but I think it’s worth it.’

‘Definitely. It looks fantastic.’ Katya walked to the middle of the space, turning full circle to see everything. ‘What are you going to use this for?’

‘This is the public part of the building. It’s for small exhibitions, lectures, children’s activities.’ He jerked his thumb towards the hallway. ‘The office space is through there, and my veterinary practice is going to be housed downstairs, where Peter is now.’

His enthusiasm for the project was obvious in every line of his face and those long, strong limbs. If it was at all possible, he seemed to stand taller here, his shoulders even squarer, proud of the vast amount of work that had already been done, and ready for the amount needed to complete the project. There had been a time when Katya had been that immersed in her work, and the sudden feeling of loss almost made her choke.

‘Would you like to see the office space?’ His voice was suddenly tender, as if he could see the crushing sadness that had just dumped itself on her shoulders. ‘It’s not finished yet, but …’

‘Yes.’ Katya gave him a bright, brittle smile. Maybe, one day, she’d find something she could put her heart into, where there was no danger of her messing up. Until then, she’d keep making coffee and smiling.

Luke wasn’t quite sure what he’d said or done to set the ghosts swirling in her eyes. Perhaps it would have been better to stay with Peter, but the temptation to show her the project that was so close to his heart had overwhelmed him, and now that he’d brought her up here, he couldn’t take her back downstairs again without at least showing her around quickly.

She didn’t seem in that much of a hurry, though. If anything, she lingered over the half-finished office space, inspecting the kitchen and tiny shower room and pacing the full length and breadth of the main area.

‘It’s a huge space.’

‘Yeah. I’m going to have demountable partitions made so it can be split up into thirds later on, if necessary. For now, I prefer open-plan.’ He was watching her carefully, trying to see the place through her eyes. The value that she put on it had suddenly become un-realistically important.

‘Yes. The views are beautiful, too.’ She was leaning on one of the windowsills, looking out at the rolling green countryside. ‘It’ll be better still once you get those prefabs down.’

For the first time Luke saw the two, low, prefabricated units that had been home sweet home for the last two years through someone else’s eyes. ‘They’ll be staying for a while.’

‘But surely once you get your new offices and surgery …?’

He shifted uncomfortably. ‘That’s where I live.’

She reddened slightly. ‘Oh! I thought …’ Suspicion flickered in her eyes and hardened suddenly. ‘I thought that the coffee shop was on your way to work.’

‘It is. My surgery’s still down in the village. I pick up my coffee on the way there from here.’ He shrugged. ‘In a few weeks’ time I’ll be giving up the lease on my practice premises and moving it over here. It’s all part of a five-year plan.’

‘I see.’ She thought for a moment then nodded, obviously finding his answer acceptable. ‘So when do you get somewhere permanent to live?’

‘That’s not at the top of my list of priorities right now. I bought this land two years ago, and I’ve ploughed every penny I have into getting this place set up. I’ve got planning permission for a house down by the road there, but it’ll have to wait.’ He indicated the spot where the house would eventually stand, shaded by trees and currently overrun with brambles. ‘In the meantime, I have no shortage of fresh blackberries.’

‘Pretty long-term project.’ She was craning to see the spot he had indicated, and then her gaze swept back to the temporary buildings. ‘Doesn’t it get cold in there in the winter?’

Cold, unwelcoming, utilitarian. He didn’t spend a lot of time there anyway, and up until this moment he had neither wanted nor needed anything else. The word ‘home’ had seemed overrated. ‘Depends how many pairs of socks I wear.’

She smiled. Really smiled. A smile like that could make anywhere a home. ‘This is an amazing place, Luke. It’ll be worth it when it’s finished.’

He wanted to hug her. No—that was hardly substantial or long-lasting enough. He wanted to hold her. But the last time he’d come too close to her, he’d seen fear in her eyes and she had shrunk back from him. If that happened again, it would shatter everything that Luke had ever believed about himself. A man that a woman feared was no kind of man at all. He turned quickly, cannoning into a workbench, and put his hand out to steady himself.

The blade sliced into his thumb like a hot knife through butter. In the moment before he felt any pain he jerked his hand away from the workman’s knife, which had been left out on the bench, and saw blood plume over his fingers.

‘Dammit.’ Some blood drops had skittered across to a gap in the plastic covering the newly laid flooring and were beginning to soak into the untreated wood. Luke held his injured hand over an empty paint can and bent to repair the damage.

He felt her hands on his, something wrapped around the gash and pressure at the base of his thumb. ‘Don’t worry about that.’

‘It’ll stain the wood.’ Luke hissed out a curse as the plastic slipped under his feet and more blood spilled onto the floor.

‘And you’re just making it worse.’ Her voice was calm but brooked no argument. ‘What’s done is done. Come here and we’ll sort that out later.’ She pulled him away, her green eyes flashing dangerously when he made to resist.

‘Hey, that’s my fabric sample …’ Somehow she’d managed to locate the only clean piece of fabric in the whole place and wrap it around his hand, in the space of time it had taken Luke to half assess the damage to the flooring.

‘You’re using that colour in here?’ She raised one eyebrow. Whatever hesitation she might have displayed in the past was gone now. She was direct, calm and unmistakably in charge. Capital letters, In Charge.

‘No. When I got it back here, I thought something a little lighter would be better.’

‘Good. You’ll not be needing it, then.’ She rolled her eyes as Luke tried to move her fingers to inspect his thumb. ‘Stop that and come here.’

She hustled him down the stairs and thrust him into a battered armchair that the workmen used during their coffee breaks. ‘Peter.’ Peter was immersed in trying to disentangle a set of claws from his pullover and Katya’s voice increased in intensity if not volume. ‘Peter, will you take my keys and go and get the red bag from the back of my car, please?’

Luke took his chance. When she wore her vulnerability like armour, he could do nothing else but treat her gently. But now it was as if her true self had emerged, fearless and capable. He was the one who was at a disadvantage now, and he could afford to flex his muscles a little with her.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I need to see if I can get those bloodspots off the flooring before it stains.’

She dismissed him with a flip of her eyelashes and Luke grinned. ‘It’s already stained. You might be able to get it off with vinegar. If that doesn’t work, try a little bleach.’

‘I’d better go and see …’ He broke off as she wiggled the thumb of her free hand at him.

‘See this?’

‘Yep. I cut my hand, not cracked my skull.’

‘It’s an opposable thumb.’ She grinned at him. ‘You of all people should know how tricky things get without it.’