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the thought aside and reminded herself there was plenty of time until Christmas.

      Fifteen minutes later she was in the car park of the pub, her heart thumping so hard she felt dizzy.

      What if she knew someone in the pub?

      She’d intentionally picked somewhere she didn’t usually go, but this part of the Lake District was a relatively small community.

      What if Alfie was right and Mr ‘Caring of Cumbria’ was a creep?

      Feeling like turning round and driving straight home, it took all of her willpower to step out of the protective cocoon of her little car and walk across the icy car park to the small village pub.

      What was the matter with her? It was just a drink, for goodness’ sake. A drink and a meal. If it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t see him again.

      As she pushed open the heavy door the warmth hit her and she felt daunted by the throng of people standing shoulder to shoulder at the crowded bar.

      Deciding that she’d wait for it to calm down a bit before trying to buy herself a drink, Stella made her way to an empty table by the fire and slid discreetly onto the chair. Aware that everyone in the pub was staring at her, she wished she’d bought herself a drink. At least then she would have had something to do with her hands.

      Feeling self-conscious, she removed her coat, but left her scarf round her neck. Staring at the fire, she found herself thinking of Daniel. Then she realised that she didn’t want to think about Daniel and gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t allowed to think about Daniel. The whole idea of this exercise was not to think about Daniel.

      The door to the pub opened, letting in a rush of cold air and a flurry of snow. A short man in a pinstripe suit walked cautiously into the pub, snow clinging to his polished shoes. Hovering on the edges of a group of men dressed in thick cable knit jumpers and sturdy boots, he looked as out of place as a ballerina on Mount Everest.

      Stella fought a sudden desire to whip off the red scarf she was wearing and slide under the table out of sight. She couldn’t do that, could she? It would be rude. After agreeing to meet, the least she could do was have a drink with him.

      But the thought of spending an evening with him made her feel so intensely gloomy that she contemplated texting Ellie and asking her to bring her emergency call forward by an hour.

      Watching his tentative attempts to reach the bar, Stella couldn’t help comparing him to Daniel.

      Would this man be bold enough and strong enough to rescue a vulnerable child from a snowy ravine? Would he be cool and decisive enough to make life-and-death decisions, as Daniel did every day in the emergency department?

      She turned her head away and stared at the fire, wondering why all the comparisons she was making were against Daniel’s good points. Why couldn’t she focus on his bad points? The man hovering nervously at the bar probably wouldn’t propose to a woman one day and then change his mind a few hours later. The man at the bar was probably extremely patient with people less intelligent than him. He wanted children, and Daniel had made it clear that he had no intention of ever becoming a father. Those were the things she should be thinking about.

      So why, knowing all that, was she still thinking of Daniel when she looked at the man at the bar?

      The whole situation felt so hopeless that a lump formed in her throat. Getting over someone wasn’t as easy as just finding someone else. It didn’t work like that.

      Stella slid her phone out of her pocket, intending to text Ellie and ask her to bring her call forward. But then a girl emerged from the crush at the bar and kissed the man on the cheek.

      Feeling impossibly relieved, Stella put the phone back in her pocket.

      All that worry and anxiety and it wasn’t even him. But now she had a new worry.

       What if he didn’t turn up?

      The door opened again and she glanced up expectantly.

      Daniel stood in the doorway, flakes of snow clinging to his dark hair and broad shoulders, a dangerous look in his eyes.

      ‘Dan.’ The barman called out a greeting and Stella frowned slightly because she hadn’t realised that he frequented this pub.

      He said something that she didn’t catch and glanced around the noisy pub.

      Stella slid down in her seat and tried to be inconspicuous, but she knew it was hopeless. There was no way he could fail to spot her. He was going to want to know what she was doing here and she was going to have to confess that she was meeting a stranger. How sad was that? Not only had she had to resort to the internet to meet a man, but he hadn’t turned up. Her confidence in herself suddenly evaporated.

      She was unattractive and she was never going to meet anyone.

      ‘Stella?’

      Accepting the inevitable, she looked up at him.

      Flakes of snow clung to his sleek dark hair and his jaw was dark with stubble. With the bulk of his shoulders and those long, strong legs, he looked strong, tough and imposing. A man who was afraid of nothing.

      Nothing except commitment, Stella reminded herself wearily, producing what she hoped was a decent imitation of a smile. ‘Hi, Daniel. This is a surprise. I thought you had a date with your lawyer at eight. You’re going to be late. Will she sue you?’

      He didn’t laugh. In fact, he seemed a long way from laughing. ‘What are you doing here on your own?’ His ice-blue eyes glittered in the firelight and he pulled out a chair and sat down, nodding his thanks as the landlord discreetly placed a drink in front of him.

      Stella fiddled with her scarf. ‘They give you free drinks here?’

      ‘His daughter fell in a climbing accident last summer. Nasty head injury. Tricky evacuation.’

      ‘And you rescued her?’

      ‘I was part of the team.’

      Despite his concise, factual answer, Stella knew instinctively that he would have been the one to rescue the girl and manage the head injury. ‘Have you had many callouts lately?’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about the mountain rescue team.’ Daniel’s eyes were fixed on her face. ‘Tell me why you’re here.’

      That was the other thing about Daniel. He came straight to the point.

      ‘I—I fancied a drink.’

      ‘On your own?’

      ‘No, not on my own. I was supposed to be meeting someone but he’s been …’ She licked her lips. ‘He’s been delayed.’

      ‘Who are you supposed to be meeting? Your new boyfriend?’

      Something in his tone made her look at him closely and she saw the tightness of his mouth and the deadly gleam of his eyes under the veil of thick, dark lashes. ‘Why does it matter to you?’

      ‘Because I don’t think you should meet strange men in pubs.’ His tone abrupt and gritty, Daniel lifted his drink and Stella sensed that he knew.

      He knew she was seeing someone she’d met on the internet.

      Stella wondered why that felt so humiliating. ‘Who told you?’

      ‘That doesn’t matter.’ He put his drink down on the table with a thump. ‘What matters is that you’ve arranged to meet a guy you don’t know. Have you no sense of self-preservation?’

      Startled by the anger in his voice, Stella looked at him. ‘I’m in a crowded pub,’ she said reasonably. ‘What’s going to happen?’

      ‘He’ll invite you back to his place and—’ Daniel broke off, his eyes on her neckline.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You’re wearing your red dress.’

      ‘What’s

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