LITMIR.BIZ

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There’s nothing going on here.

      He came back moments later with a tray that held their drinks and a plate of millionaire’s shortbread.

      She was surprised. ‘Oh. They’re one of my favourites.’

      He looked pleased. ‘Mine too. Help yourself.’

      She focused on making her tea for a moment. Stirring the pot. Pouring the tea. Adding sugar. Adding milk. Stirring for a while longer. Stopping her hand from shaking. Then she took a sip, not sure what she was supposed to be talking about. She’d been quite rude to this man. Angry with him. Abrupt. Although, to be fair, she felt she’d had reason to be that way.

      ‘So, how long have you lived in Silverdale?’ he asked.

      I can answer that.

      ‘All my life. I grew up here. Went to the local schools. I left to go to university, but came back after I was qualified.’

      She kept her answer short. Brief. To the point. She wasn’t going to expand this. She just wanted to hear what he had to say and then she would be gone.

      ‘And you now run your own business? Did you start it from scratch?’

      ‘It was my father’s business. He was a vet, too.’

      ‘Does he still live locally?’

      ‘No. My parents moved away to be closer to the coast. They always wanted to live by the sea when they retired.’

      She paused to take another sip of tea, then realised it would be even more rude of her if she didn’t ask him a question.

      ‘What made you come to live in Silverdale?’

      ‘I grew up in a village. Loved it. Like you, I left for university, to do my medical training, and then after Anna was born I decided to look for a country posting, so that Anna could have the same sort of childhood I had.’

      She nodded, but knew he was glossing over a lot. Where was Anna’s mother? What had happened? Anna wasn’t a baby any more. She was five years old, maybe six. Was this his first country posting?

      Who am I kidding? I don’t need to know.

      Sydney gave him a polite smile and nibbled at one of the shortbreads.

      ‘My name’s Nathan, by the way.’

      Nathan. A good name. Kind. She looked him up and down, from his tousled hair to his dark clean shoes. ‘It suits you.’

      ‘Thanks. I like your name, too.’

      The compliment coupled with the eye contact was suddenly very intense and she looked away, feeling heat in her cheeks. Was it embarrassment? Was it the heat from the café’s ovens and the hot tea? She wasn’t sure. Her heart was beginning to pound, and she had a desperate desire to start running, but she couldn’t do that.

      Nor could she pretend that she was relaxed. She didn’t want to be here. She’d said yes because he’d put her on the spot. Because she hadn’t been able to say no. Best just to let him know and then she could go.

      She leaned forward, planting her elbows on the desk and crossing her arms in a defensive posture.

      ‘You know…this isn’t right. This. Meeting in a coffee shop. With you. I’ve been through a lot and you…’ she laughed nervously ‘…you make me extremely uncomfortable. When I met you yesterday, in your surgery, I was already on edge. You might have noticed that. What with your doctor’s degree and your—’ she looked up ‘—your incredible blue eyes which, quite frankly, are ridiculously much too twinkly and charming.’

      She stood, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

      ‘I’m happy to help you with your daughter’s rabbit, and I’ll be the consummate professional where that poor animal is concerned, but this?’ She shook her head. ‘This I cannot do!’

      She searched in her bag to find her purse. To lay some money on the table to pay for her tea and biscuit. Then she could get out of this place and back to work. To where she felt comfortable and in control. But before she could find her purse she became aware that Nathan had stood up next to her and leaned in, enveloping her in his gorgeous scent.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      Standing this close, with his face so near to hers, his understanding tone, his non-threatening manner, his apology… There was nothing else she could do but look into his eyes, which were a breathtaking blue up close, flecked with tones of green.

      She took a step back from his gorgeous proximity. ‘For what?’

      ‘For what I said to you. In our consultation. My remark was not intended to insult you, or the memory of your daughter, by suggesting that you could get over it with the help of…’ he swallowed ‘…warm milk. But you were my first patient, and I knew you were in a rush, and I got flustered and…’ His voice trailed off as he stared into her eyes.

      Sydney quickly looked away, aware that the other customers in the café might be watching them, sensing the tension, wondering what was going on.

      ‘Sydney?’

      She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing, before she turned back to meet his gaze. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I promised this was just coffee. We’ve had tea and shortbread which may have changed things slightly, but not greatly. So please don’t go. We’re just drinking tea and chomping on shortbread. Please relax. I’m not going to jump your bones.’

      ‘Right.’ She stared at him uncertainly, imagining him actually jumping her bones, but that was too intense an image so, giving in, she sank back into her seat and broke off a piece of shortbread and ate it.

      Her cheeks were on fire. This was embarrassing. She’d reacted oddly when all he’d expected was a drink with a normal, sane adult.

      She glanced up. He was smiling at her. She hadn’t blown it with her crazy moment. By releasing the steam from the pressure cooker that had been her brain. He was still okay with her. It was all still okay. He wasn’t about to commit her to an asylum.

      ‘I’m out of practice with this,’ she added, trying to explain her odd behaviour. ‘Could you please pretend that you’re having tea with a woman who behaves normally?’

      He picked up his drink and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘I’ll try.’

      She stared back, uncertain, and then she smiled too. She hadn’t scared him off with her mini-rant—although she supposed that was because he was a doctor, and doctors knew how to listen when people ranted, or nervously skirted around the main issue they wanted to talk about. Nathan seemed like a good guy. One who deserved a good friend. And good friends admitted when they were wrong.

      ‘I’m sorry for walking out on you like that yesterday.’

      ‘It’s not a problem.’

      ‘It is. I was rude to you because I was unsettled. I thought you were going to ask questions that I wasn’t ready to answer and I just wanted to get out of there.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because you made me nervous.’

      ‘Doctors make a lot of people nervous. It’s called White Coat Syndrome.’

      She managed a weak smile. ‘It wasn’t your white coat. You didn’t have one.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘It was you. You made me nervous.’

      He simply looked at her and smiled. He was understanding. Sympathetic. Kind. All the qualities she’d look for in a friend.

      But he was also drop-dead gorgeous.

      And she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

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