‘Do you two mind not talking about me as if I wasn’t here?’ Biting back an angry expletive, Hal violently reversed his wheelchair and headed back towards the kitchen.
‘Don’t mind him,’ he heard Sam say soothingly behind him to Kit. ‘As I said, he’s a bit more irritable than usual since he broke his leg, but—’
‘Don’t you dare tell her that underneath my tetchy, disagreeable exterior I’m a veritable pussycat!’ he yelled. ‘Because I’m certainly not!’
His heart thumping hard inside his chest, Hal steered the wheelchair into the kitchen and straight away moved across to the oblong glass dining table to retrieve his rapidly cooling mug of coffee. He knew he was behaving like the worst bore in the world but he couldn’t seem to help it. Tonight, before bed, he might just have to succumb to taking those sleeping pills his doctor had prescribed. Right now he’d probably take the strongest ones he could lay his hands on if they would help him get at least an hour of unbroken sleep. ‘A bear with a sore head’ didn’t come anywhere near to describing the infuriated way he felt.
‘...and you’ll need to consult with Hal’s doctor today, when you take him to the hospital for his check-up, to get some advice on how best to help him.’ Sam’s voice carried clearly as she and Kit came down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘His knee joint and muscles were damaged when he broke his femur, and there’s a certain process you have to know. Don’t worry—it’s not difficult. I think it’s called the RICE technique, which stands for—’
‘Rest, ice, compression and elevation,’ Kit cut in quietly. ‘I’ve been studying quite a comprehensive first-aid book since I was told that Mr Treverne had a broken femur. I’ve also spoken to one of my trainers at the centre where I took my first-aid courses.’
She’d been studying a first-aid book? Even though he was irritated at being discussed as though he were a recalcitrant schoolboy who’d complained about having to miss his school’s sports day because he’d contracted chicken pox, Hal owned to feeling mildly surprised that his temporary employee would go to such lengths even before she knew if she had the job or not.
‘I’m impressed.’ Sam’s voice contained the suggestion of a smile.
‘Please don’t be. My intention is simply to do a good job. It’s no more than I would normally do when the person I’ve been hired to help is either recovering from an illness or an injury, Ms Whyte.’
‘Please—call me Sam. At any rate, I’ve spoken to Hal’s consultant about talking to you, so he’s expecting you to ask.’ They came into the kitchen. ‘You can also check with the nurse who comes in once a week to visit him. Oh, and one more thing—there’s also a cleaner who comes in twice a week to give the place a good going over. Mrs Baker is her name. So you won’t have to spend too much time doing housework. My brother’s welfare is your main priority. If he wants you to spend the entire day watching films or listening to music with him, then please don’t hesitate.’
‘Are you quite finished? Only I’m beginning to feel like some expendable extra in a hospital soap opera!’ Scowling, Hal returned his mug of coffee to the table with a heavy slam, so that the now tepid beverage slopped over the lip and splashed onto his arm.
Without preamble, Kit moved across to the sink at lightning speed and grabbed the kitchen cloth that was folded over the tap. Then she hurried over to him, expertly dabbing the cloth on his exposed forearm and drying the spill. It was fortunate that he’d rolled up the sleeves of his cashmere sweater earlier, he thought wryly, because the blue was a favourite of his. But he guessed that, if required, his efficient new helper would no doubt have a handy solution for removing coffee stains from delicate fabrics too.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured when she had finished the clean-up.
‘You’re welcome.’
Her blue-eyed smile was fleeting, but with a jolt of surprise Hal straight away intuited that when she smiled properly—for instance when and if something pleased her—the gesture would light up her face and render her almost bewitching...
‘Can I make you a fresh cup of coffee, Mr Treverne?’ she asked.
Briefly catching his sister’s amused glance over her shoulder, Hal shrugged. ‘Yes—why not? I guess I’ll be even more like a bear with a sore head if I don’t have my usual quota of caffeine.’
‘How do you take it?’
‘Black with one sugar. You should make one for yourself too.’
‘Thanks—I will. By the way, what time do you need to get to the hospital for your appointment?’
‘Ten o’clock.’
‘Of course. I remember that now.’ The redhead gave him another fleeting smile. ‘That gives us some time to have a general chat about things. For instance, you’ll need to tell me what car I’m driving. Is it big enough to accommodate your wheelchair? Because if you’re not used to using your crutches yet you’re going to need it.’
Not wanting to contemplate the possibility of not being immediately expert at using crutches, Hal was terse. ‘If it should transpire that I need the wheelchair—and I very much doubt it—then no doubt the hospital will supply one for my visit. The car you’ll be driving me to my appointment in has plenty of leg room and is easy to drive...that is as long as you’re a good driver?’
Again, if he’d thought to disconcert Kit then he was disappointed. With a confident toss of her head she moved over to the coffee machine and threw over her shoulder, ‘I took my advanced driving test last year and passed with flying colours...so you can rest assured that I’m a good driver, Mr Treverne.’
‘I thought we’d agreed you could call me Hal?’
‘Do you mind if I call you Henry instead? Only using your friends’ name for you sounds a little too over-familiar.’
Seeing the lightly mocking glint in his sister’s eyes, Hal inwardly squirmed. No doubt his clever sister was thinking he’d met his match in the redoubtable Kit Blessington. But he would make it his mission to prove her wrong...see if he didn’t!
‘Well.’ Sam leant down and dropped an affectionate peck on his cheek. ‘I’ll be off now. I’ll leave you to the tender ministrations of Ms Blessington.’ Her mouth curved into a satisfied and humorous grin.
‘I’m not looking for her ministrations to be “tender”,’ he snapped. ‘A decent level of competence will be enough.’
‘A typical Hal response,’ his sister remarked cheerily, winking at the other woman as she transported a mug of fresh coffee over to her brother. ‘By the way, Kit, if you need me for anything...anything at all...you’ll find my phone numbers on the noticeboard in Hal’s study. You’ll find that just to the side of a poster of the latest scantily clad supermodel. Look after him for me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
Unable to suppress a grin at his sister’s amusing parting shot, Hal murmured, ‘Bye, sis. Go easy with those wounded patients of yours, won’t you?’
‘What a lovely woman,’ Kit remarked when Sam had departed.
‘She is.’ As he tunnelled his long fingers through hair that hadn’t seen a comb for more days than he cared to mention, Hal’s smile was unrestrained. ‘I agree. She’s certainly one in a million.’
Momentarily dazzled by the twinkling hazel eyes and curved masculine mouth before her, Kit shrugged off her heavy jacket and arranged it on the back of one of the shaker-style dining chairs positioned around the table. Then she curled a stray strand of copper hair round her ear and in a brisk but friendly tone asked, ‘Shall I help you get to grips with your walking aids now? We’ve got some spare time for you to practise before we leave for the hospital.’
Even