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      Bryony smiled. ‘Absolutely fantastic,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Enjoy your stroll, did you?’

      Sean grinned in appreciation. ‘Didn’t want to rush things,’ he said, lifting an eyebrow in Jack’s direction. ‘Well?’

      ‘We need a helicopter but I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that.’

      ‘You suppose correctly.’

      Jack sighed and checked the pulses on the boy’s foot again. ‘So we’d better carry them off, then. Good. I needed a workout.’

      It seemed to take ages to organise both boys onto stretchers but eventually they managed to carry them out of the ghyll and started down the mountain.

      By the time they reached the valley floor the mist had cleared and it was a sunny day.

      ‘I don’t believe this,’ Bryony muttered, tugging off her hat and shaking her hair loose. ‘What is it with our weather?’

      Both boys were loaded into the mountain rescue team ambulance and then transferred to hospital under Sean’s supervision while Jack and Bryony followed behind.

      ‘Are you working today?’ Jack glanced across at her and she nodded.

      ‘Yes. I’m on a late. Why?’

      He returned his attention to the road. ‘I thought you had a date.’

      Bryony looked at him warily. ‘That’s tomorrow, but I don’t know if I’m going because Mum has to go and visit someone in Kendal so I don’t think she can babysit.’

      ‘I’ll babysit for you.’

      Bryony stared at him. ‘You?’

      ‘Why not?’ His eyes were fixed on the road. ‘I often babysit for you. It gives me a chance to talk to my godchild. I like it.’

      Bryony looked at him suspiciously. ‘But last night …’ She broke off and bit her lip, not really wanting to bring the subject up in case it rocked the peace that had resumed between them. ‘Last night you said that you didn’t think I should be dating.’

      ‘And I’ve already apologised for that,’ he said, flicking the indicator and turning into the road that led to the hospital. ‘And to make up for it, I’ll babysit for you. What time do you want me?’

      Still feeling uneasy about the whole thing but not knowing why, Bryony gave a shrug. ‘Seven-thirty?’

      ‘Seven-thirty is perfect. There’s just one thing …’ He pulled up in the ambulance bay and yanked on the handbrake. ‘You haven’t told me who you’re going out with.’

      There was something in his smooth tones that made her glance at him warily but his handsome face was impassive.

      She paused with her hand on the door. ‘David.’

      ‘David Armstrong? The paediatrician?’ Jack’s expression didn’t change but she sensed something that made her uneasy.

      ‘Look, Jack—’

      ‘I’ll be there at seven-thirty. Now, let’s get on. I need to get antibiotics into Martyn and call the surgeons. That wound is going to need some attention.’

      And with that he sprang out of the vehicle, leaving her staring after him.

      Jack was going to babysit while she went on a date?

      It seemed harmless enough, generous even, so why did she have such a strong feeling that something wasn’t quite right?

      

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘MUMMY you look pretty.’

      ‘Do you think so?’ Bryony surveyed her reflection in the mirror, wondering whether the dress was right for the evening that David had in mind. He’d said dinner in a smart restaurant, but she never went to smart restaurants so she wasn’t that sure what to wear.

      In the end she’d settled for the little black dress that her mother had given her three Christmases ago and which she’d never worn.

      She’d fastened her hair on top of her head, found a pair of pretty, dangly earrings and dabbed perfume over her body.

      And she had to admit that she was looking forward to going out with a man.

      So much so that when the doorbell rang she opened the door with a wide smile.

      ‘Hi, Jack.’ Her face glowed and she stood to one side to let him in. ‘There’s a casserole in the oven. I assumed you wouldn’t have eaten—’

      ‘I haven’t eaten.’ His eyes slid down her body and he frowned, his expression suddenly hostile.

      Bryony felt the confidence ooze out of her. She’d thought that she looked good but, judging from the look on Jack’s face, she obviously didn’t.

      ‘Come through to the kitchen,’ she said quickly, suddenly wishing that she’d worn something different. Obviously the black dress didn’t suit her. ‘We’ve got time for a quick drink before David gets here. He was held up in clinic.’

      Jack’s mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘So he’s going to be late, then.’

      ‘Well, only because a child with asthma was admitted at the last minute,’ Bryony said mildly, tugging open the fridge and reaching for a bottle of wine. ‘You know how it is.’

      ‘Do I?’

      Instead of settling himself at her kitchen table as he usually did, he prowled round the room, his eyes constantly flickering back to her dress.

      Trying to ignore his intense scrutiny, Bryony poured two glasses of wine and handed him one. ‘Here you are. Cheers.’

      He took the wine and put it on the table, his eyes fixed on her legs.

      Bryony felt her whole body warm with embarrassment. She hardly ever showed her legs. She usually wore trousers for work because they were more practical, and when she went to the pub with the rest of the mountain rescue team she wore trousers, too.

      But tonight, for the first time in ages, she’d put on a pair of sheer, black stockings and she was beginning to wish she hadn’t.

      ‘You hate it, don’t you?’ she croaked, and his eyes lifted and welded to hers.

      ‘Hate what?’

      She swallowed. ‘The way I look. My dress. Me. You’re staring and staring.’

      Jack let out a breath. ‘That’s because I don’t think you should be going out with a man dressed like that,’ he said tightly. ‘It sends out all the wrong messages.’

      She frowned at him, totally confused. ‘What messages?’

      He tensed. ‘Well—that you’re available.’

      ‘Jack,’ she said patiently, ‘I am available. That is the message I want to send out.’

      ‘So you wear a skirt that’s up to your bottom?’ He glared at her and she stared back helplessly, totally confused by his attitude.

      She’d met some of the girls that he’d dated and they were almost all blondes with skirts up round their bottoms.

      ‘Jack, my skirt is just above the knee,’ she pointed out, glancing down at herself to check that half her dress hadn’t fallen off without her knowledge. ‘It is nowhere near my bottom.’

      ‘Well, it’s definitely too low in the front,’ he said hoarsely, reaching across the kitchen table, yanking a flower out of a vase and snapping it halfway up the stem. ‘Try this.’

      He walked up to her and slipped the flower down the neckline

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