Proposing to the Children's Doctor. Joanna Neil
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from falling over with the other.
‘I’ve got it,’ Angie said, coming to help, and between them they managed to gently ease him down into a chair.
Rebecca looked back at the pile of books and stifled a sigh. Even the boisterous children on the paediatric recovery ward at the hospital didn’t cause this much chaos.
Another sound stopped her in her tracks as she began to pick up the fallen items and replace them on the shelves. ‘Did you hear that?’ she asked Angie.
Angie shook her head. ‘Can’t hear anything above this din. I thought you turned the sound down a little while ago.’
‘I did.’ Someone had obviously decided that had been a bad move on her part, though, because now the noise was as loud as ever and she could barely hear herself think. Still, underneath it all she could just about make out a knocking sound. Rebecca frowned, trying to make out where the noise was coming from. ‘Someone’s at the door,’ she murmured.
It was probably one of the neighbours, coming to complain, and she steeled herself to go and pacify whoever it was. She had always got along well with the people next door, but there was a limit to what they could be expected to cope with.
Pulling open the door to the flat, an apology was already forming on her lips, but it faded rapidly as she looked out to see the man from the top-floor flat standing in the hallway.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I thought it might be someone else.’
He shook his head. ‘Did you? I’ve been banging to get your attention for a while, but I’m glad that it was you who opened the door. I was hoping that I would be able to catch up with you some time today.’
‘Were you?’ Puzzled, Rebecca pulled the door almost closed behind her in an effort to shut out some of the noise. She studied him guardedly. Why would he be trying to catch up with her? She didn’t know him, or anything about him, except what she had managed to glean last night in the few moments when their paths had crossed. ‘You’re not here to complain about the noise, then? I’ve been trying to keep it down.’
‘Have you?’ His mouth made a wry twist. ‘I suppose it all depends how you interpret keeping it down.’
She slowly absorbed the implied criticism and pushed it into the background. ‘You know how it is… People get to drinking and then they want to dance, and before you know it they’re tuned in to the beat and it all gets a bit crazy.’
‘Yes. Anyway, that’s not actually what I’m here about.’
‘Oh…I see.’ She frowned. Why on earth would he be seeking her out? He was a stranger to her. The only thing they had in common was that they both kept late hours.
Perhaps he read her thoughts because he said, ‘I’m Craig, by the way. Craig Braemar.’
‘I’m Rebecca.’ She acknowledged the introduction with a faint inclination of her head. When all was said and done, she didn’t want to appear unfriendly, even if he was there to complain about something else. It wasn’t her way, no matter how distracted she might be. ‘Of course, you could always join us, if you’d like to?’ After all, it could be a better move to pull in the opposition rather than have him create problems for her.
‘Thanks, it’s tempting, but I actually need to grab some more sleep and I want to keep a clear head for the morning. I’m expecting a call.’
‘That’s OK. It was just a thought. I wouldn’t like you to feel that we were leaving you out.’
She studied him surreptitiously. Maybe he’d been out on the town last night and was still recovering. Whatever the circumstances, he was definitely more presentable today than he had appeared to her then, and she had to admit to herself that his voice surprised her, too. There was a vibrant, deep quality to it, and it somehow managed to wrap itself around her senses in a most unexpected way.
Today he was clean-shaven, and the clothes he was wearing were considerably more respectable than those of the night before, a fresh dove-grey cotton shirt beneath a black leather jacket and black denims that followed the line of long, strong-looking legs. His hair was a crisp, midnight black, cut in a short, cropped style, and his jaw was square, as though he brooked no nonsense from anyone. His eyes were a subtle mix of blue and grey, and right now his gaze homed in on her, returning her stare with laser-like precision, making her shift uneasily.
His glance shimmered over her, taking in the feminine curves outlined by the soft fabric of the strapless dress that clung where it touched and ended in a swirl of silk that draped itself around her knees.
His gaze was dark and brooding. She had no idea what he was thinking and for some reason that she couldn’t define, that bothered her. Was he dismissing her as a feckless airhead who went in for wild shindigs and a chaotic lifestyle?
Why should his impression of her rankle, anyway? He was nothing to her, and she didn’t want to acknowledge that he had tweaked her interest in any way. She was off men. They were trouble, big time, and most likely he would prove to be no exception.
Even so, she kept up an appearance of civility. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked. ‘I know it can’t be easy moving into a new place. If there’s anything I can do to help, you only have to ask.’
‘It’s nothing like that, but thanks all the same.’ His tone was faintly dismissive, and she stiffened, returning his look with a questioning, watchful expression.
‘It’s about a phone message that was left for you just after you went out this morning,’ he said. ‘It was obviously someone who doesn’t know you too well, because she rang the number of the communal phone. It was only by chance that I heard it as I was crossing the lobby.’
Rebecca’s eyes widened a fraction. Who would be calling her here? All her friends and family had her mobile number. Unless something had happened to—
‘It was someone who lives near to your aunt, I believe,’ he murmured. ‘At least, she said she was a neighbour, Margaret, and she told me that your aunt was unwell. Nothing too serious, she thinks, but she’s not quite herself, and she’s been feeling a little dizzy lately. She said she would keep an eye on her over the next week or so, but she wondered if you might manage to get over there to see her some time soon.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Rebecca tried to absorb the information that confirmed her worst fears. Aunt Heather was ill? That was deeply distressing news, all the more so because her aunt had been like a mother to her. She had taken Rebecca and her sister under her wing and given them all the love and care that it had been possible for her to give through a good part of their young lives. It was unthinkable that she should be virtually alone in her island home while her family was so far away.
She glanced up at the man. ‘Well, thank you for letting me know. That’s a message I definitely needed to get.’
He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. It’s difficult when elderly relatives are left to fend for themselves.’
Was that a hint of censure she detected in his voice? Rebecca drew herself up, a spark of resentment flaring to life in her smoke-grey eyes. What did he know about the way she lived her life? Who was he to stand in judgement of her?
She opened her mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut as he went on, ‘Actually, there was something else—I found a letter addressed to you this morning.’ He reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out an envelope, holding it out to her. ‘This is you, right—Rebecca McIntyre?’
Rebecca nodded, and he said shortly, ‘I thought so. I heard your flatmate calling out after you, this morning as you left the house. I would have given it to her to pass on to you, but I was having a bit of a lie-in, and after that I was out for some of the day, so I haven’t had the chance to catch up with either of you.’
Her glance flicked over him. Nice that he was able to grab a leisurely day for himself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to do that. Her