The Nurse's Christmas Temptation / A Mistletoe Kiss For The Single Dad. Ann McIntoshЧитать онлайн книгу.
certainly, definitely, not to lust after her gorgeous daredevil boss, who had “heartbreaker” written all over him.
The CIs had been quick to tell her that Cam was single, and she’d been thoroughly grilled on her own status. She’d had no problem telling them about her break-up earlier in the year, although not in detail, since it had got them off the subject of Christmas.
She determinedly pushed all thoughts of her conversation with Cam aside, focusing on work instead. A quick look at the time told her she had just a few minutes to run upstairs and comb her hair before he arrived—if he was on time.
His rather laissez-faire attitude toward the way his practice was run would have made her think him a little scatterbrained if he hadn’t been so clearly intelligent. But he’d frowned when she’d rearranged the filing system, and given her a blank look when she’d asked why there were over four hundred records when there were less than two hundred and fifty people on the island.
And she was still wondering why they needed fifteen minutes to go just down the road.
He did turn up at the appointed time, and Harmony’s heart-rate picked up as she watched him from her bedroom window. He got out of his vehicle to open the gate before driving around to the front of the building. She made herself walk slowly down to join him, neither giving in to nor showing any of the silly eagerness bubbling inside her.
Outside, she found him leaning on the hood of his car, as handsome and relaxed as a magazine model. Clearly he wasn’t suffering from the same reaction she had, and she was determined to meet his cool with all the calm in the world.
Cam explained the extra fifteen minutes while they were walking over to the Jacobsons’ cottage.
“Hugh is in denial about the terminal aspect of his mother’s disease, and he has a tendency to want to speak for her, saying how well she’s doing rather than letting her tell me the truth. He’s also a bit of a fusspot when it comes to time. If I get there a little early he doesn’t have the tea ready yet, so I get a few minutes to talk to Delores alone and find out exactly how she is, and if there are any new developments. I keep the more clinical aspects, like taking her temperature and blood pressure, for when he’s in the room, so he feels as though he’s in the thick of it.”
It made sense, and she made a note of it for future reference. Hearing his logic also made her contemplate how different this job was going to be from her last. There everything had been regulated, and although they’d got the chance to get to know some of their patients quite well, the little personal touches like those Dr. MacRurie had just described had often been missed.
The visit went as predicted, with Hugh Jacobson greeting them at the door, rushing to the kitchen to make tea, and apologizing for it not being ready when they got there. The doctor winked conspiratorially at Harmony, making her silly stomach flutter, and he pushed open the door to the front room where his patient was.
Mrs. Jacobson was a quiet lady, who smiled when she saw Dr. MacRurie and Harmony and seemed to know the drill. Wasting no time on small-talk, she answered the doctor’s questions while her son was out of the room. But then, with a quick glance toward the open door, she grasped Cam’s wrist, stopping him midsentence.
“It won’t be long now, Cameron,” she said, in her soft brogue. “But I just want to make it through Hogmanay. I don’t want Hugh to be sad every Christmas because I died around the holiday.”
Tears stung the back of Harmony’s eyes, but Dr. MacRurie just patted Mrs. Jacobson’s shoulder and said, “We’ll do our best to see you through till then, Delores.”
“Good,” she replied, seeming to relax slightly in her chair. “I want to see the lights this year, even if I can’t get out to enjoy the festival.”
Harmony couldn’t tell this sweet lady that it wouldn’t matter to her son whether she made it through to the New Year or not. Her passing would hurt him whenever it happened, and he’d miss her every holiday thereafter.
Later, after they’d drunk tea with mother and son and were walking back to the vehicle, Cam said, “She didn’t know she had hemochromatosis until after the menopause, and it had already caused extensive liver damage. She’s not the complaining type, as you could see, and attributed the symptoms to simply aging. Hopefully we can keep her going the way she wants.”
No matter how unprofessional it was, Harmony didn’t feel able to discuss it just then. Not when seeing Mrs. Jacobson had brought all the pain of losing her gran rushing to the fore.
She made an noncommittal sound. Then quickly said, “I guess you weren’t putting me on when you said there’s a Winter Festival, although it’s hard to picture.” All she saw was a tiny village—nicer today, with the sun out, than it had been the last couple of days, but nothing special.
Cam opened the passenger door of his aged utility vehicle and Harmony tried not to wince at the metallic creak.
As she climbed in, he replied, “Wait and see. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
But she was still skeptical. After all, how fancy a show could the inhabitants of a tiny place like this put on?
CAM WALKED AROUND the front of the vehicle, glancing in at Harmony through the windshield. She was fussing with the seatbelt which, like most things in True Blue didn’t work as it should, and just a glimpse of her furrowed brow and pursed lips made him smile.
Cranking open the driver’s door, he levered himself into the seat just as she got the belt wrestled into submission. She was casually dressed, but the jeans, white shirt and red anorak did nothing to camouflage her lovely figure. Cam rather wished it did, so he wouldn’t find himself admiring it so much.
Firing up the engine, trying to ignore how good Harmony smelled, he dragged his thoughts back to business. “I forgot to ask, can you drive a manual?”
“Yes,” she said.
But just as he was coaxing the vehicle into gear and, and it ground its way into first, he glanced across and saw her concerned expression.
“My grandfather taught me, but although he always said if I could drive a stick shift in Jamaica I could drive anywhere, I don’t know if I can manage this beast.”
Cam chuckled. “No, I have an estate car for you to use. I’m the only one who drives True Blue. She’s very persnickety.”
“True Blue?”
There was no mistaking the laughter in her voice, and it made Cam’s grin widen. “She’s held together with baling wire and tape, but she’s never let me down anywhere I couldn’t walk home.”
The sound of her amusement filled the rattling, groaning vehicle and made Cam unaccountably happy. He realized he’d never heard her laugh that way before; not a giggle but full-on belly laughter.
What started as a quick glance at her had him staring, his gaze riveted on her face. Amusement had taken her from beautiful to stunningly gorgeous, and it was only the need to watch where he was driving that tore his attention away.
“You live on a very small island. I’m guessing you’d be able to walk home from just about anywhere—am I right?”
He cleared his throat, being careful not to look at her again. “Yes, but don’t tempt fate. We’re in this together now.”
That exchange seemed to set a good tone for the rest of the time they spent together. Harmony even relaxed slightly, so Cam asked about her grandfather, and heard the story of her grandmother travelling to England alone.
“She explained it by saying that Granddad had ‘small pond’ syndrome. He wasn’t happy with the thought of leaving a place where he was known and had a certain status to start over in a much larger pond, where he’d have to begin