Tempted by the Brooding Vet, page 5
Forgetting his discomfort, Alex fumbled through the blackness, hitting a wall before his eyes slowly adjusted to the shadows. Joining Kiki in the dark lounge, he peered out of the window. Sure enough a car waited in the lane and a shady figure walked along the path towards the old barn.
Alex stepped back from the window. ‘Stay here.’
‘Where are you going?’ Kiki asked, her eyes still on the figure outside. A floorboard creaked beneath her feet.
‘To speak to our visitor.’
He hurried to his room and grabbed his hoodie off the chair. Tugging it on, he slipped his feet into his boots. Stopping only to grab his phone, he flicked on its torch before heading down the narrow hall towards the kitchen.
‘Do you think you should?’ Kiki asked from behind him.
Alex paused and half turned, making out Kiki’s shape in the shadows. ‘Call the police and tell them you’re being broken into.’
‘But...’ She hesitated, then took a step towards him. ‘Shouldn’t I come with you?’
‘No. Make the call and stay inside.’
Alex continued down the hall. Whoever lurked outside was going to get an unexpected reception. One they weren’t going to like. Tonight would be the last time they came sneaking around Fingle Lodge.
Unlocking the back door, Alex felt the cold night air greet his bare legs with a crisp, icy caress. Edging along the stone wall, grit crunching beneath his boots, he’d reached the corner of the building when something touched him on the shoulder. Spinning round, he found himself staring into a familiar female face.
‘I’ve called the police,’ Kiki whispered, pulling her coat over her nightdress. Once again, she wore her wellies. ‘And they’re on their way.’
‘Good. Now go inside,’ he ordered.
She ignored him and pulled out a pair of woollen gloves from her coat pocket. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘I’m going to the barn and you’re going inside.’
‘The barn?’ she echoed. ‘I definitely need to go with you, then.’
Alex clamped down on his irritation. There was an unknown person loitering in the grounds of the property. Someone who thought nothing about hurting and abusing innocent animals. And she refused to listen to sense.
‘Kiki, this isn’t a pleasure excursion. The person whose dogs we’ve confiscated is about to find out they’re all missing.’
‘Rescued,’ she corrected.
Gritting his teeth, Alex demanded, ‘How do you think he’s going to react once he realises they’re gone?’
‘Might be a woman...’ she deliberated. ‘I think they’ll be very angry.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But then we’re angry, too,’ she said, moving past him. ‘Come on. Let’s show them how angry we are.’
Alex tugged her back and shoved his phone at her. ‘Take this.’
She frowned, but reached for it. ‘Why?’
‘If I need to make a grab for him—or her—I don’t want my phone broken in the scuffle.’
Together they made their way to the barn and slipped inside. The bright light from the full moon illuminated the interior, thanks to the large opening once used for lifting hay into the roof space. The smell of damp earth and stale air prickled Alex’s nose and he fought the sting of an impending sneeze, not wanting to give away their presence.
Searching the space, he made out the shape of the open door leading to the room where the dogs had been kept. Deep muttering and shuffling came from within, followed by a scraping noise as the person explored the area.
Kiki nudged Alex in the side with her elbow and leaned up to whisper in his ear. Her warm minty breath sent a trickle of awareness over his already heightened senses.
‘If I shut the door, can you jam something against it?’
Understanding, Alex touched his mouth to her forehead and nodded. He recalled seeing several planks of wood propped against the wall next to the room. ‘Good idea.’
‘On the count of three,’ she whispered. ‘One, two, three...’
Together they rushed forward and slammed the door, trapping the intruder inside. Alex wedged a large heavy wooden plank against the door handle, securing the room and blocking any way for their prisoner to escape.
‘We did it!’
Kiki threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, flattening her body against his in delight. Holding her close, Alex felt the essence of floral shampoo and soft warm woman smother his wits, awakening a strange hunger he’d never experienced before. One he wasn’t sure he liked.
‘We did.’
A police siren wailed in the distance and muffled yelling sounded from the room, but neither moved or let go. Their whole awareness centred on nothing but the feel and proximity of each other.
Pulling her closer, he tightened his arms. ‘Kiki?’
‘Yes, Alex?’ she gasped.
‘Would this be a completely inappropriate moment to kiss you?’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU’RE A DAMN FOOL, Morsi,’ Alex muttered, squeezing the bunch of keys in his hand until the jagged edges cut into his palm. What the hell had possessed him to behave like a first-class idiot with that out-of-nowhere suggestion of a kiss?
Choking on a bitter laugh, he groaned. A kiss? Really? What a Romeo. Old Ronny the cat had nothing on him in the smooth stakes.
He hadn’t needed to see Kiki’s expression to know the idea of kissing him had repelled her. The speed with which she’d scrambled out of his hold had caused enough sparks to burn down the barn and eradicate his crushed ego along with it.
A car drove by, its loud exhaust breaking into his self-recriminations. He glared after the vehicle’s disappearing rear lights, eager to redirect his bad mood somewhere other than at himself. But the shambles of this last hour was no one’s fault but his own.
Now he wanted to kick off the day, sink into bed and fall asleep. Just forget it all for a while. Since Kiki Brown had stepped into his life everything had turned into an unbalanced mess.
Slipping the key into the front door lock of his studio flat, he stepped inside. A cool chill greeted him as he bent and retrieved the blue envelope waiting on the doormat. Recognising his business partner’s printed handwriting, he shoved it into his jacket pocket. Whatever was inside could wait until tomorrow. Enough already occupied his mind tonight without adding more.
Climbing the five narrow steps to his home—little more than a functional space—he sighed and reluctantly relived the last hour’s events.
He’d not hung around after the police had arrived and carted off the intruder. Grabbing Nix and his bag, he’d made his excuses and left. Since the man was under police custody Alex had no reason to stay and risk making a bigger spectacle of himself.
At the top step he came to an abrupt stop. Even in the darkness, with just the street lights shining through the net curtains, he sensed something was off. Though in the shadows he couldn’t make out exactly what.
Stepping forward, he paused at a sound he didn’t recognise. Tilting his head, he took another step—then stopped.
Why could he hear water running?
Reaching out, he fumbled for the switch and turned on the overhead light. Artificial brightness filled the room, blinding him for a moment. After a few seconds his gaze cleared and he focused on the cheap blue carpet beneath him.
Lifting his left foot, he slowly lowered it.
Squelch.
He did the same with his right.
Squelch.
Placing Nix’s carrier down, he crouched and skimmed his palm over the short nylon pile, grimacing when his fingers came away wet.
Yep, definitely water. And a lot of it.
Confused, he moved further into the flat, coming to a halt for a second time. Broken plasterboard scattered the vintage rug in front of the television and the bookcase and a steady stream of water ran from a large hole where a big chunk of the ceiling used to be.
Walking closer, he stared up into the attic space and discovered the cause for all the mess and destruction. Water poured from the bottom of a large galvanised tank.
He stepped away from the debris and cursed. How much worse did this night intend to get? Wasn’t total humiliation enough, without adding a burst water tank and a destroyed ceiling to the dung heap of his existence?
Grabbing his mobile out of his trouser pocket, he searched for the practice plumber’s telephone number. Not caring about the lateness of the hour, he pressed the button and waited. After several unanswered rings he left a message, then threw the phone across the room to land in the middle of his desk.
Locating the mains water tap beneath the kitchen sink, Alex twisted it to the ‘off’ position and fetched a still boxed carpet cleaner—an unwanted Christmas present from his aunt—from the storage cupboard. Dumping it in the middle of the mess, he returned to the stairs.
Before he dealt with the drenched carpet, he needed to settle the rabbit in his indoor hutch and check downstairs to see if any of the practice ceilings had suffered water damage.
Ten minutes later he left the practice after checking each room. Thank heavens for concrete floors. Not one plastered ceiling showed signs of water damage. One less problem to stress over tonight, when he still had so much to do.
Back in the flat, Alex ripped open the box holding the cleaner, halting halfway through as he felt some of his anger diminish.
Sinking onto the sofa, he rested his head in his hands, digging his fingers through his hair. Heaviness seeped into every muscle of his body. Would the rest of his days be like this? Having to deal with life’s problems without the help and support of another person? Never having anyone to talk to other than his staff and the animals he treated? Sorting through daily traumas without someone close to share his concerns and worries?
His fingertips pressed further into his scalp. Was it selfish to want someone to come home to after a day’s work? Someone who understood his career and wouldn’t complain if he left in the middle of the night for an emergency? Who would welcome him home again at daybreak, with a hot cup of tea and a sleepy smile, even though he returned smelling of animals and covered in stuff best washed off and never discussed?
A special female who enjoyed his company and actually desired his kisses? A woman, in fact, who wanted more than his kisses? Who craved his touch upon her skin and screamed his name during their lovemaking? Someone to share a bath with and argue with over stupid disputes, and then make up sweet and hard? A woman who wanted him with the same passion and intensity with which he wanted her?
Someone kind, sweet...and nothing but a mirage of a hopeless dream.
Rubbing his palms along his face, he leaned forward, feeling bone-tired and so damn lonely. Why was it easy for others to get their dreams, yet he constantly struggled to attain his? Never able to grasp the joys others gained with little effort?
Closing his eyes, he drew in several deep breaths before returning his attention to the cardboard box. He didn’t have time for self-pity. His life was nice and calm. Something he’d craved as a boy and accomplished as an adult by moving away from Ireland and his parents. He should be grateful for the peace in his life.
He didn’t care that his mother’s damning prediction, pronounced in the middle of his tenth birthday party, in front of all his school friends and family members, that he would stay a bachelor for his whole life, appeared to be coming true. But then she also professed that he was the devil’s son every time they saw each other.
He stood and removed the cleaner, frowning at all the different nozzles and hoses. Flinging the instruction book to one side, he set about putting the machine together. The sooner he dealt with the water, the quicker he’d get some sleep. Rehashing his rotten childhood was best left for another night.
At least he had one less thing to worry over. After his behaviour tonight, no way would Kiki Brown accept his job offer. Saving him the embarrassment of ever seeing the beautiful, frustrating woman again.
* * *
The following morning Kiki stared at the practice entrance, not certain she wasn’t making a huge mistake. Yet another mammoth one that she might end up regretting.
Did anyone know the correct protocol for accepting a job after the boss had asked to kiss you? And then done a runner before she could explain why she’d stepped out of his hold before he could attempt to carry out his request.
She wrinkled her nose at the memory, feeling a fresh surge of guilt hitting her hard in the chest. The poor embarrassed man, whom she’d only met several hours before, and most of them had been far from normal or pleasant, had asked to kiss her and she’d reacted as though he carried a foul and infectious disease. Hardly surprising he’d left the house in a whirl of discomfort and excuses, taking his pet rabbit along with him.
A bashful teenager acted with more tact and finesse than she did. No wonder the man had scarpered before the blue lights on the police car had stopped flashing. He’d probably never met a woman more sexually inept and incapable. A true uptight virgin, as her ex had often accused her of being all those times she’d fought out of his pushy hold and reminded him of their mutual decision to wait until after the wedding to consummate their relationship.
She sighed and studied the Tarmac. Was it really a surprise the man had cheated on her? What thirty-two-year-old woman hadn’t notched up at least one or two sexual partners at her age? Oh, she’d received offers from men over the years, and had occasionally been tempted by them, but something had always prevented her from taking the final step of peeling off her clothes and giving herself to a man. Trusting him with both her heart and body. Putting herself completely in his control.
For her, men were always a great disappointment. Her father’s callous treatment of her mother when he’d left the marriage for a younger woman and his appalling behaviour throughout the unpleasant divorce was just one of many examples during Kiki’s childhood that had confirmed to her that all men were dishonest, unreliable and incapable of being faithful.
Not wanting to linger further on unpleasant past memories, she returned her focus to Alex Morsi. A man who sent her every sensible thought and doubt reeling far into the ether. Remembering last night and his whispered question sent a fierce but delightful shiver through her body. Because, despite the way she’d drawn out of his embrace, she’d actually wanted to cling to him like a bee on a foxglove and kiss him until he passed out at her feet. Not only to steal his breath away, but selfishly to keep it, too.
And that realisation upset her far more than the man’s request or behaviour. She, Kiki Brown, supposedly distraught from the chaos of a recently failed engagement, had desperately longed to plant her lips on Alex Morsi’s and kiss him into erotic submission. A man she didn’t even like much had made her want to give herself to him completely, without a care or rational thought for the consequences.
She groaned, rubbing her forehead to ease the thumping headache which had plagued her all night, taking with it a decent night’s sleep. Instead she’d drifted between consciousness and wonderful fantasies. Fantasies that confirmed she was a wicked female of questionable morals who deserved to be shunned for the wantonness of her desires.
For surely no decent female on the rebound from calling off her wedding to another man complicated her life by fantasising over a stranger? No matter how much she’d liked being in his arms and enjoyed the way the hard contours of his mostly naked form had melded against her own.
It should make no difference if his strong arms wrapped around her had made her feel delicate and safe for the first time in her life. Or if his warm breath whispering against her ear had set off a million quivers and raised her heart-rate to bell-clanging top heights.
No, none of that mattered—because she was sensible and practical Kiki Brown. She’d devoured all the books on moving on after a break-up, and kissing a different man mere weeks after leaving a long-term relationship—even a terrible one—sat at the top of the ‘Must Not Do’ list. She needed to concentrate on herself—discover her own needs and how important they were to her well-being.
Kiki couldn’t recall the exact wording, but the general gist of those books had judged that any new relationship she embarked on should be a long time in the future. The trouble was she wasn’t distraught or heartbroken from her failed engagement. How could she be when she had never given her heart to any man—not even her ex-fiancé?
Her mobile vibrating in her coat pocket distracted her wayward thoughts. Retrieving it, she was surprised to see it was a text from a friend in Alaska. She’d meant to call the woman yesterday, to catch up, but with the dogs and everything she’d plain forgotten.
Kiki smiled as she started to read the text, her happiness at this unexpected contact falling away as she stared at the words. She read the text through fast, then more slowly. She read it for a third time, convinced it must be a joke.
Unfortunately, she knew her friend didn’t possess much of a sense of humour—which meant the words on the small screen were true.
Her ex had actually married the woman Kiki had caught him with. Her next-door neighbour, who fashioned herself with all the subtleness of a performing drag artist but without any sense of style.
Kiki slipped the phone into her pocket, swallowing hard. Oh, God—what if her friend sent her some wedding photos? Kiki wouldn’t put it past the woman to do so without thinking.
She retrieved the phone and sent off a reply, telling her friend in clear terms never to mention the couple again, nor send any evidence of their marriage. Her ex and their relationship belonged in the past. It was a miscalculation she wanted to leave far behind. A mistake of judgement she’d eventually—thankfully—extricated herself from.
