Tender Touch. Caroline AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
image, sprawled here as he had been last night, his long body, relaxed in jeans and a sweatshirt, looking comfortably familiar. Ridiculous, of course, because she didn’t know him and he wasn’t in the least familiar, but she couldn’t shake this feeling that in some way she knew him, was connected to him, and that this house was where she was meant to be.
It was so silly, because the last thing she needed was a relationship, and Gavin was the last person she would think of in that context.
He just wasn’t that sort of person, not one of the overtly sexy young doctors that seemed to cruise around hospitals in an aura of testosterone and sexual arrogance.
The thought made her chuckle. She just couldn’t imagine Gavin coming on strong to anyone. Not that he was unattractive—far from it. He had beautifully even features if one discounted the slightly crooked nose, probably a legacy of some lethal ‘sport’ like rugby, and his firm, full lips parted when he smiled to reveal perfect white teeth—well, almost perfect. One had a slight chip on the corner—the same accident? Possibly.
His shoulders weren’t enormous by any means but they were quite respectable, and there was no weight on him. If anything he was too thin, she thought critically, and vowed to cook him some decent, rib-sticking meals to fill him out. Still, his legs were solid enough. She remembered how he had looked in his jeans, and realised with a start that he probably was a very attractive man—if men attracted one.
After what had happened to her, Laura would find it hard to be attracted to any man. The consequences were just too awful, the price too high.
She got up, out of his chair that reminded her so unsettlingly of him, and put her cup back in the kitchen. She needed to change and get back to the hospital, give Gavin his cheque for the first month and be on duty by twelve-thirty. It was already after eleven. Running upstairs, she flung her jeans and jumper onto the chair, tugged her dress over her head, zipped up the front and pulled the stretchy red belt round her waist. Her tights wouldn’t go on straight, her shoelaces got in a knot and it was ages before she ran out of the door.
By the time she got to the hospital she was beginning to worry. Would she find him in time? She was getting anxious about owing him the money, and she didn’t want to upset him so early on in their relationship.
The word brought her up with a start. Did they have a relationship?
She hated that word. Business arrangement, then. Friendship. Anything but relationship. The word was too emotive.
She needn’t have worried. He was there on the ward, looking rumpled and very familiar in theatre pyjamas. She thought with a little shiver of shock that he was actually bigger than she’d realised, taller, heavier, more—masculine? Her heart thumped, and she had the sudden, terrifying feeling that she had made a dreadful mistake.
Then he turned towards her, his blue eyes lighting up as he saw her, and his face creased in a smile of friendly greeting. ‘Hi. Everything all right? Did you manage OK?’ he asked softly, and her fears dissipated like mist in the morning sun.
She handed him the cheque. ‘Fine,’ she told him, and she realised it was true.
The afternoon was busy. Gavin was around, quietly busy, tending to Oliver Henderson’s patients who had had operations the day before. She met Sue Radley, Oliver’s senior registrar and Tom Russell’s counterpart on the other firm, and found her pleasant if a little withdrawn.
That suited Laura. She didn’t want cosy little chats—not that there was time.
Ruth was going to be more of a problem. Married for six months, blissfully happy despite her promise to live with Gavin if he crooked his little finger, she was warm, nosy and a definite threat to Laura’s peace of mind.
They were working together on a drowsy post-op patient, turning her and settling her down again, and Ruth was chatting happily about her new house and her husband Bob, a paramedic with the ambulance service.
‘So, how about you?’ she asked as she switched the bag of saline to the drip stand on the other side of the bed. ‘Single? Divorced? Widowed?’
‘Single,’ she said economically. It wasn’t really a lie. She was single now. Anything deeper she wasn’t prepared to go into. She wondered why Ruth had left out ‘married’, but she didn’t have long to wait. The bongo drums had clearly been hard at work already.
‘I hear you’re moving in with Gavin, you lucky old thing.’
‘Hardly moving in,’ Laura protested softly. ‘He’s got two cottages. I’m having one.’
‘But they’re joined, and you have to share bathroom and kitchen, don’t you?’
Did she know everything? Laura wondered in despair. ‘I’m sure we can manage not to get in each other’s way. Anyway, with the shifts we both work, I imagine we’ll hardly see each other.’
Ruth snorted. ‘If I had a chance like that, trust me, I’d take it. That man is something else. You can take him superficially, laughing and joking all the time, but underneath he runs deep. He’s solid gold, through and through.’
Laura was uncomfortable. ‘He’s been very kind,’ she said, to fill the silence.
She smoothed the covers over their sleeping patient and checked that the drip was hanging straight before moving away. Ruth went with her. ‘He is kind—too kind for his own good. He gets very tired, because he’s so conscientious. Oliver thinks very highly of him, but one of the downsides of that is the responsibility he gives him, and Gavin takes it very seriously.’
He would. Even after such a short acquaintance, Laura knew that. Lighthearted though he might seem to be, there was nothing superficial about Gavin Jones.
One of the patients rang his bell, and Laura hurried over to him, glad to get away from Ruth and her talk of Gavin. He was beginning to intrude far too much into her thoughts already …
Late that afternoon Evie Peacey came back to the ward from ITU. She was stable enough to move, and they needed the ITU bed, but it did mean she needed to be ‘specialled’—supervised and monitored by one particular nurse every minute. The job fell to Laura, and she was glad, because specialling patients was something she loved to do.
Evie was a little drowsy still with her sedation, but even so she managed the odd witticism which made Laura smile.
‘One way of losing weight, eh?’ she whispered hoarsely, her face creased in a pain-filled smile.
Laura patted her tummy, definitely her weakest point, and grinned back at Evie. ‘Perhaps I should try it. I’ll get Gavin to open me up and whip out a bit of this, shall I?’
Evie shook her head disapprovingly. ‘You’ve got a lovely figure, Laura—can I call you Laura?’
‘Of course you can—and you’re too nice about it. I’m overweight.’
‘No, you’re a woman. There’s a difference. Women should be soft, not all hard and bony like men. It’s all very well looking at these skinny things, but you ask a man what he’d like to snuggle up to!’
Behind her back, Laura heard a chuckle and with a sinking feeling she turned to see Gavin standing in the doorway of the little single room, a broad grin on his face.
The next second his arm was round her, hugging her up against his side in a harmless, platonic and somehow extraordinarily disturbing embrace. ‘Absolutely right, Evie,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Who wants to snuggle up to a stick insect?’
Evie wheezed and moaned, and Gavin’s face instantly registered regret. He released Laura and went over, taking Evie’s hand in his. ‘Hey, you aren’t supposed to laugh at my jokes, only your own. How are you after the move?’
‘I’ll do,’ she mumbled, clearly tired.
‘Are you very sore still?’
‘Only what I’d expect. It’s all right till I have to move for any reason.’