Together they worked until the tablet sat at the back of the cat’s tongue. Alex firmly closed Miss Pretty’s mouth and gently stroked her throat, waiting until he saw signs that the feline had swallowed it down.

  Still keeping hold of the cat, Alex glanced at Kiki, and asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  For a moment Kiki didn’t answer, her expression for the first time since they’d met completely unreadable. Finally she said, ‘The headmistress from the local infants’...’

  Still listening, but happy that Miss Pretty had taken her medication and wasn’t showing any signs of choking on it, Alex carried the feline over to the wall of cages and placed her inside one. The instant he let go the sneaky black cat ran up his arm and onto his shoulder, where she perched for a second before leaping to the floor.

  ‘Damn,’ he cursed, grabbing for the cat too late.

  Miss Pretty spat out the tablet and raced for a low cupboard on the other side of the room.

  ‘Is this the cat Leah complained about this morning?’ Kiki asked, staring at the feline, who now sat on top of the cupboard washing her face.

  Alex sighed heavily. ‘Yes. Her owner swears she sweet-natured, but I have my doubts.’

  ‘Is he the man who came in with tons of scratches all over the backs of his hands?’ Kiki questioned, crossing her arms.

  Alex was debating whether to answer truthfully when he noticed how close Kiki was to the door and her chance of freedom. Catching and getting Miss Pretty into a cage would be easier if Kiki stayed and helped—otherwise he was on his own with a very annoyed cat.

  He decided to avoid outright lying and hedged. ‘I’m not sure...’

  Kiki huffed and glanced his way, letting him know she saw through his sudden vagueness. ‘Okay. If I go this way, you sneak round to her other side and grab her by the scruff. This kitty needs to learn some manners in acceptable cat behaviour.’

  ‘Good luck,’ he muttered.

  ‘We can do this Alex,’ Kiki insisted. ‘We’ve caught a criminal and outbid a mean farmer. What’s a half-wild cat to us? We’re professionals, remember? And she is the patient.’

  ‘I like your confidence,’ Alex mused, not sounding convinced.

  Together they crept closer to Miss Pretty, alert for any sudden movement the cat might make to avoid capture. Thankfully there were no tall cupboards in the room.

  Miss Pretty watched them, as if mentally daring them to come nearer.

  ‘Miss Pretty...’ Alex coaxed softly, taking another step closer.

  The cat ignored him and switched her attention to Kiki, her eyelids narrowing ominously over her green eyes.

  ‘Who’s a naughty cat?’ Kiki added, moving slowly towards Miss Pretty. ‘Perhaps we should try and entice her with a treat?’

  ‘Won’t work,’ Alex said. ‘According to her owner, she’s very fussy about what she eats and doesn’t really like petting much. Just be careful she doesn’t catch you with her claws.’

  Kiki took a few more steps, then lunged for the feline, giving Alex his chance to grab Miss Pretty. Fighting off vicious swipes and fierce biting, Kiki distracted the cat for several long, painful seconds before Alex caught Miss Pretty by the back of her neck and subdued her.

  Retrieving the abandoned tablet, Kiki shoved it into the cat’s mouth while Alex kept a firm hold on her furry body. After making certain the cat had definitely swallowed the pill this time, they returned Miss Pretty to her cage, blocking any second attempt at escape with both their bodies and slamming the door closed.

  ‘Goodness!’ Kiki panted. ‘That is one grumpy, unfriendly cat.’

  Alex nodded, leaning a hand against the cage. ‘Sorry, Miss Pretty, but you have to stay there until your owner collects you.’

  ‘You may want to suggest he comes and gets her from here. Save anyone else from having to deal with her bad manners.’ She grinned. ‘We make a good team, but it might be pushing our luck to mess with Miss Pretty again today.’

  Alex smiled, then reached out and touched her cheek. ‘She’s scratched you.’

  Kiki lifted a hand to her cheek and frowned when a streak of blood coated her fingertip. ‘Perhaps I should ask my boss for danger money?’

  ‘How about he cleans you up instead?’

  Alex guided her over to the sink in the corner of the ward and spent the next few minutes washing the scratch with warm water, before applying a thin coat of antiseptic cream.

  ‘All done,’ he said.

  Kiki looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. ‘No plaster or kiss to make me feel better?’

  Alex didn’t reply, instead he asked, ‘You said you needed to talk to me.’

  Kiki nodded, the playfulness leaving her eyes. ‘The headmistress of the infant school has enquired whether you might consider giving a talk to a Year Two class. I said you’re very busy, but I promised to ask.’

  Alex frowned at the request. Why would a teacher ask such a horrendous thing? Surely children preferred the chance of extra playtime over listening to someone who treated sick animals for a living.

  ‘A talk?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘About what?’ he enquired, glancing towards the wall of cages.

  Kiki frowned. ‘I’m not sure it needs to be a specific subject. Just a general chat about animals. Apparently the children’s behaviour over the school term warrants a treat and she thought of you.’

  Rubbing a finger along the collar of his denim shirt, Alex fought the urge to shudder. A talk in front of a group of children sounded as painful as sharing a cage with Miss Pretty. The shudder refused to recede. In fact, a second one joined it. Only sheer determination prevented him from showing his reaction to the woman next to him.

  ‘She wants me to give a talk in front of a classroom of children?’

  Kiki nodded, rubbing at a small scratch on the back of her hand. ‘She insists the children will love it, but I did explain that you’re busy and don’t really do talks.’

  Alex pulled her hand under the tap, determined to bring the conversation to an end and get back to work. The schoolchildren might love a visit, but he’d hate every intolerable second.

  Turning away, he shook his head and grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and a paper towel. ‘Sorry, but you’ll have to tell this woman I said no. Maybe suggest she try another practice. I’m sure she’ll find someone else willing to do it.’

  ‘Perhaps Thorne can do it?’ Kiki suggested as she rinsed her hand. ‘Once his wife is better and he returns from the Isle of Wight. He really isn’t having much luck, is he?’

  Alex doubted it, knowing the man wouldn’t be invested in the practice for much longer. He’d decided to buy out his partner’s share in the business and let Thorne move on. Alex’s solicitor was already working on the papers. He needed a partner who concentrated on his work and less on the desires of his latest mistress.

  ‘If any other schools contact us with the same request, tell them no.’

  Kiki tilted her head in his direction and bit her lower lip. ‘Don’t you like teachers, Alex? Did you have a miserable time at school?’

  He coughed, uncomfortable with both her regard and her questions. School had, in fact, offered a sanctuary from his home life.

  He wiped over the examination table. ‘I loved school. Teachers are not the problem.’

  No, but the notion of standing in front of any group of people—even one in which the participants stood miniature in height and were less likely to complain and walk out—was. He did not perform in front of strangers of any age.

  His stomach pitched at the thought, arousing appalling memories from his childhood. ‘I don’t do gatherings of children. Ever.’

  Kiki’s eyes widened at the statement. ‘Don’t you like children, Alex?’

  He shrugged, uncomfortable with the way she stared at him, as if he’d threatened to repeatedly stamp on her favourite possessions. ‘I’ve not thought about it much. No reason to as I’ll never marry.’

  Saying the words left a sour tang in his mouth, but he refused to lie to himself or Kiki. For him, a wife and family were nothing but an unachievable dream he refused to waste further time on.

  For a fleeting moment he’d hoped that Kiki and he... Well, that idea was best forgotten. Even if their attraction refused to cease, she had made it clear she wanted friendship and no more when she’d stepped out of his arms midway through their dance.

  ‘So, it’s irrelevant if I like them or not.’

  ‘Why won’t you marry?’ she demanded, moving to stand on the other side of the table.

  Because she wanted a marriage based on friendship, whereas he wanted one based on friendship, sex and love. How could he marry when the one woman he imagined loving refused to permit love into her abused soul?

  But he didn’t say any of the words in his heart. Instead, he shrugged. ‘I like my own company and enjoy the quiet.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ she scoffed. ‘We share the lodge, remember? You’re chatty all the time. And lately you only retire to your room when I go to bed. Hardly the behaviour of a recluse.’

  Right now, he’d give anything for her to leave him in peace. Shooting her his best boss glare, he asked, ‘Don’t you have work to do?’

  She ignored his question and persisted with one of her own. ‘You don’t really believe you’ll never marry, do you? I mean, it’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I’m thirty-seven years old, Kiki, and still single.’

  ‘Hardly old, Grandad,’ she mocked. ‘I’m thirty-two. Should I order us a couple of walking frames and hearing aids in case we suddenly need them?’

  ‘Tell me—did you speak to your other bosses the way you do me?’

  ‘No...’ She smirked. ‘But you’re my housemate too, so it’s different. Look, why don’t we leave it a couple of days? You may change your mind and decide you’d like to talk to the children. Imagine them as little Turtles multiplied. Children are fun when you get to know them.’

  He already knew, seeing as he’d grown up surrounded by a town full of cousins ranging from babies to adults. As part of a large family he’d never lacked playmates to cause trouble and mischief with. It was his home life that had left him lonely.

  ‘I won’t,’ he insisted. ‘Tell the headmistress I’m not free to do the talk.’

  Kiki wrinkled her nose. ‘But she wants you, Alex.’

  ‘Well, she can’t have me, Kiki,’ he replied, furious at the old emotions and memories that had been resuscitated by her pushing. Ones he’d long ago suppressed. Why did none of his staff understand the employer/employee relationship? If he made a decision they were supposed to respect and abide by it even if they didn’t agree.

  ‘But... But...’ she stammered, her expression making it clear she intended to argue further.

  He raised his hand to stop her from saying another word. ‘No, I’m not doing it. Tell the woman to find a policeman. Or perhaps a doctor or a lollipop person. Anyone but me. I’m a vet, not a teacher. I chose to be so because animals don’t argue or answer back. I just wish my staff acted the same way.’

  Kiki’s eyes narrowed. ‘They do bite, though.’

  ‘The animals or my staff?’ he asked, his imagination immediately conjuring up all the places he’d like to bite her while sharing her bed. A different type of heat rolled through him.

  Kiki let out a loud huff. ‘And you accuse me of being stubborn? Well, Alex Morsi, you own the title for being unreasonable and unhelpful.’

  Seeing the disappointment on her face, he swallowed the unpleasant taste in his mouth. He hesitated for a second, before asking, ‘How many children are in this class?’

  Kiki shrugged. ‘No idea. Around thirty is the usual number for most classes, I think.’

  Thirty small faces staring at him. Thirty individuals waiting to find fault and ridicule. Thirty loud echoing voices laughing and yelling insults.

  No, he couldn’t do it.

  He blinked several times to clear the sudden flashing stars from his eyes, rubbing a shaky, clammy hand across his brow. ‘I’m sorry, but the answer’s still no.’

  Kiki opened her mouth to argue more, but he shook his head. When he’d left home to attend college in England he’d sworn never to perform in public again. He refused to allow anyone—even Kiki—to talk him into doing something he’d worked hard to avoid.

  ‘I don’t do talks of any type.’

  She stared at him silently from across the table, digesting his words before she said, ‘Forget the talk. I don’t want you to do it anyway. But I’m not leaving until you tell me the real reason for your refusal.’

  He didn’t know whether the soft coaxing tone of her voice or the fact she’d stopped arguing had lessened his resistance to continuing with the conversation, but for the first time in his life he wanted to unburden the secrets entombed deep inside his heart. To finally drag them out from the internal crypt he’d concealed them in long ago.

  His shoulders slumped and he raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I can’t stand talking in front of large groups. One to one is fine, but more than a handful is unsettling.’

  ‘I didn’t realise...’ she said.

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. ‘Was your mother nice?’

  ‘Yes, very.’

  He opened his eyes again, his dark gaze holding hers, each syllable waiting on his lips a repugnant ball of acid. ‘My mother isn’t. She likes to play with people’s minds and cause them to suffer. There’s something ugly and twisted inside her. A sick need to humiliate others.’

  Kiki listened without saying a word.

  ‘All my childhood she enjoyed nothing more than to embarrass and torment me. She got a real kick out of it. Her favourite torture involved forcing me to stand with my toes on a set mouse trap, dressed in my underwear, and recite poetry in front of a crowd of her actor friends. The first time I was four. I wet myself when they laughed at my mispronunciation of “impediments”, afraid that at any second my toes were going to be crushed by the metal trap.’

  ‘A mouse trap?’

  ‘Yes—the kind that snaps shut at the slightest touch. I didn’t learn until years later that it was useless and broken and wouldn’t have done me any physical harm. I was petrified, and that was all my mother wanted.’

  Kiki didn’t speak.

  ‘I can recite Byron and Shakespeare with ease. Though I always fight the urge to vomit whenever I say or hear the words.’

  Even now, all these years later, if he heard the first line of Shakespeare’s Sonnet Eighteen the memory of warm urine running down his leg overcame him. Not something he would ever forget.

  Kiki finally spoke. ‘I prefer Anne Bradstreet myself. How often did she make you do it?’

  Clearing his throat, Alex lifted the bottle of disinfectant from the table. ‘Every time her friends visited the house she’d drag me out of bed in the middle of the night and stand me in the centre of the room while they all stood around laughing and mocking. Torture for a shy, chubby child happier to be alone reading than forced into the company of unfamiliar adults. Most of them were high or drunk and ready to ridicule me over everything from my accent to my weight. If I made a mistake, or forgot the words, she used a scrubbing brush on me. The one used to clean the floors. The bristles were stiff and vicious upon my skin when it was used as a form of punishment.’

  Tears filled Kiki’s eyes. ‘And your father?’

  Alex shrugged, not acknowledging the deep pain of his father’s indifference and lack of help. ‘Too busy drowning his sorrows in the local pub to care about what happened at home. Though I do recall one time when he returned during a particularly horrendous gathering.’

  ‘What did he do?’ she asked softly.

  Alex hated to destroy the small thread of hope he heard in her voice, but his father had been no help or hero. Not that night or any other.

  ‘He slouched drunkenly in the doorway, watched for several moments, then staggered up the stairs to his bedroom. Though he did tell me about the mouse trap being useless the following day.’

  ‘Oh, Alex...’ Kiki rounded the table and reached for his hands. Grasping them tightly, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think when I asked. I just—’

  ‘Assumed I was being awkward for the sake of it?’

  She nodded, regret in her eyes.

  ‘I swore when I left Ireland never to allow another person to control me again. Or to put myself in a situation like that.’

  Kiki shook her head in disbelief. ‘Your parents’ mindless callousness and selfishness has robbed them of loving a wonderful son. You’re the kindest and gentlest man I know. Don’t allow their cruelty to hurt you any longer.’

  ‘Not only a duck-defender, but a vet champion, too?’ he said, attempting a joke.

  He looked down at her, seeing the compassion in her eyes. How he wanted to pull her into his arms and slowly lick the tears from each corner of her eyes, where they sat like two transparent beads. To melt away her unhappiness and kiss her until they forgot about the past and the future and celebrated the now. To lose his long-hated memories in the velvety beauty of her sweet, tantalising body.

  But he didn’t reach for her. Instead he gripped her hands and whispered, ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do the talk. I just can’t.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  KIKI PLACED HER phone on the wooden table and stared across the staffroom. The smell of coffee wafting from the mug beside her barely registered as she tried to filter the news she’d just received. The ten-minute conversation with her godmother—normally an enjoyable event—had instead left Kiki wanting to curl her lip and snarl like a rage-possessed she-wolf.

  Resisting the urge, she shoved her chair back, its rear legs scraping against the tiled floor in a horrendous screech, and stood. The twisting sickness in her stomach had taken away any appetite for the lunch waiting in her shoulder bag.

  How could he? How could he do this to her? How dared Alex use their friendship to approach her godmother with an offer to buy Fingle Lodge? Sneaking in with a proposal while she still resided there? Couldn’t he wait a few months for her to finish updating the building before he tried to evict her? Was he so eager to push her out of his life that he would go behind her back and do this?

 

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