One Life-Changing Night. Louisa Heaton
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and beyond today.’ Her voice began to wobble as she spoke and she swallowed hard, forcing back the tears of gratitude. She hated crying when she didn’t mean to, but sometimes it seemed like her body was just so overwhelmed by certain stressful situations that she couldn’t stop herself.
But she would not cry in front of him again!
He simply smiled and backed away, most likely pleased to be escaping her tumultuous existence.
Naomi went back to the spare room and sank onto the bed, looking around her. What curious twist of fate had intervened in her life today? A new job. A burglary. And a soft place to fall. At least for tonight.
Sighing, she pulled off her coat and hung it up on the back of the door. She’d run herself a bath, maybe have a bite to eat and then hopefully she’d get a good night’s sleep.
She didn’t expect she would. It had been one heck of a day! And now she was suddenly living in her boss’s home. That felt … odd. She didn’t know him and the understanding he must have of her at this point was tenuous. He obviously didn’t let people get too close. Everything about the man screamed ‘keep away!’ but he’d been generous and offered her a bed for the night when she’d had no other choice. That was good of him, right?
She was going to have to think of a way to thank him for this.
A huge thank you indeed.
Tom stood in his kitchen furiously whisking eggs for some omelettes. It felt strange knowing that he wasn’t alone. That there was someone else in his home. A woman. A beautiful woman. And a work colleague, no less.
That would get the hospital grapevine going, no doubt. Especially if they arrived for work tomorrow together in his car. Perhaps he could let her get out at an earlier point?
He shook his head. Was he really that rude? Or worried about his reputation? Of course not. Everyone knew him at work. He was dedicated, honest, hard-working. No lad-about-town, causing outrageous rumours.
Besides, they might be lucky. No one might notice.
Naomi was in Merry’s room. The room she had used as a craft room, making cards, decoupage and that other thing she’d done … quilling? Or something like that. She’d been so talented at it. Sometimes he’d gone into that room to see what she was working on and had been amazed at this beautifully constructed hummingbird or peacock or mythical creature, all made out of coloured curls of paper. He remembered her smiling face looking up at him and saying, ‘What do you think?’
And now Naomi was in there. Did she know? Could she sense it? He’d barely been able to stay in there and it had taken all his strength to redecorate it. To change it from what it had been. To take away the pain of the once pale blue walls.
They were a peach colour now. He’d not been in there since he’d painted it, except to change the bedding.
All the crafting stuff was gone, packed away. Some of it he’d given away. Instead, he’d installed a big wrought-iron bed in there along with bespoke beech furniture. It was all very plain. Simple. For guests. Not that he’d been expecting any guests. But if he gave the room a purpose, rather than it just lying empty, he could forget about his dreams for that room and what he’d once hoped it would turn out to be.
A nursery. Because one day, he and Merry would have tried to start a family. They’d talked about it anyway …
It would never be that now. And now it was Naomi’s room. For one night anyway.
He tried to focus on the eggs, on grating cheese, on slicing courgettes and mushrooms, but his brain kept on torturing him with the image of her eyes, the way she’d looked up at him when he’d caught her falling from that ladder.
This was crazy! Why should it bother him what her eyes had looked like? Or that her skin had been smooth like porcelain, that her lips had looked full and soft? They were just work colleagues. Just associates. He was helping her out.
He whisked the eggs harder, trying not to think about her. He tried to focus on all the work he needed to get through tomorrow, but he could only envision her face and the way she’d felt in his arms …
Cursing, he put down the bowl of eggs and just stood still for a moment. Perhaps what he needed was a breather. A moment of mindfulness, to get himself back on track. He thought of the patients he’d seen that day. Their cases. The injuries. The treatments. The protocols.
Yes. That was working.
The door to the guest room opened and out walked Naomi in a thigh-length robe, with her hair all scooped up in a towel.
He quickly picked up the eggs and whisked them some more. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘I’m starving.’
‘Good.’ He tried not to breathe in all the aromas that she’d somehow brought out with her. There was a hint of lavender and something else sweet, warm and clean. She perched herself on a stool at his breakfast bar and he saw long, toned legs and dainty feet with pink-painted toenails. ‘I’ll make a start, then.’
‘Can’t wait.’
He swallowed hard and turned his back.
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