He needed her.
She’d always been good at reading people. It was her special gift. And all her senses warned her that Mac Sullivan was a troubled man. She could feel the tension in him. Feel the way that he pushed people away. Shut himself off.
Josh was right about one thing, she mused as she unzipped her bag and pulled out a warm jumper. His brother was going to do everything in his power to get her to leave.
She cuddled the jumper and for a moment her eyes swung back to the sea. The winter wind whipped the waves into a foaming mass and the sky was grey and laden with the threat of more snow.
It was cruel and cold and unwelcoming.
So why did she feel she was finally home?
DOWNSTAIRS, Mac put the kettle on the Aga and called his brother. ‘I owe you a black eye. Your Christmas present just arrived.’
His brother chuckled. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous? I’ve excelled myself, haven’t I?’
Mac felt the irritation rise. ‘When I need a pimp,’ he said tightly, ‘I’ll ask for one.’
‘Hey!’ Josh’s voice was suddenly sharp. ‘Don’t speak that way about Louisa. Believe it or not, this time I’m not fixing you up. This isn’t about sex.’
Mac rolled his eyes as he waited for the water to heat. ‘With you, everything is about sex and you’ve been trying to fix me up since the day Melissa died. And frankly I just don’t need it. I don’t need another woman in my life.’
He was no good at relationships.
He was better off on his own.
An image of Louisa with snow scattered through clouds of curling dark hair filled his brain and he pushed it away. It was all part of his brother’s plan and he wasn’t falling for it. He was perfectly satisfied with his life.
‘This isn’t just about you.’ Josh sighed. ‘Mac, we’re drowning under work. We don’t have time to turn around. We need someone to help in the house and we need another nurse in the department. Louisa fits both slots. She’ll make all our lives easier. If you frighten her off, I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.’
‘She’s the nurse you were talking about?’ Momentarily preoccupied, Mac suddenly felt steam sear his wrist and stepped back with a soft curse. Functioning on automatic, he lifted the kettle off the heat and ran his arm under the cold tap, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, Josh, really I do.’ He increased the flow and frowned at the red streak appearing on his wrist. ‘But I don’t need my brother arranging my love life.’
‘No, what you need is to stop shutting people out,’ Josh said shortly, ‘and that’s why I’ve bought you Louisa.’
‘You’ve bought me Louisa?’
‘I’m paying her salary for a month. After that it’s up to you. But Louisa is the nicest person I know. A real giver. And on top of that she’s a brilliant A and E nurse. She’s going to be the answer to our prayers, bro, so stop complaining. It’s just for Christmas.’
‘If she’s so wonderful, why aren’t you sleeping with her?’
‘Truthfully?’ Josh laughed. ‘Because she wouldn’t have me. She’s too wise. But she’s one of my favourite people. Let her stick around and you’ll see why.’
Mac turned off the cold tap. ‘I have no intention of letting her stick around. If she wants to work in A and E, that’s great, heaven knows, we need the staff, but she’s not living here with us.’
He needed his space. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being closeted with someone over the Christmas period. When he wasn’t working he just wanted to be left on his own.
He wanted peace and quiet and his own company.
He didn’t want tinsel and forced jollity.
‘Fine.’ Josh’s tone was cool. ‘Then she’ll be homeless but I dare say she can sleep in a hedge. It won’t be the first time. I’ve got to go. Patients calling.’
Mac replaced the receiver and cursed under his breath. He was well aware that Josh was the reason he’d got his life back together after Melissa had died.
But, dammit, that didn’t give him the right to interfere with every aspect of his life. He was doing OK, wasn’t he? He didn’t need any help. And he certainly didn’t need to be given a woman as a Christmas present. Even if she was stunning, had impossibly long legs and smelt as good as a summer’s day.
He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to find her standing in the doorway, watching him, those coffee-brown eyes fixed on his face in silent question.
The shower had turned her cheeks pink and her dark hair hung down over her shoulders in a damp, curling mass.
She was astonishingly pretty and against his will his eyes slid to her soft mouth, noting that her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper lip. In fact, he noticed a lot of things he would rather not have noticed.
Mac ran a hand over the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. ‘I’ve been up half the night and I’m knackered. I don’t need this right now...’
Her gaze slid over the kitchen, resting on the piles of unwashed plates, the mountains of cold, half-eaten food and the empty bottles. ‘Looks to me as though this is exactly what you need,’ she said softly, a sympathetic look in her eyes as she looked back at him. ‘You know, when life gets tough, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. People should help each other. Particularly at Christmas.’
He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t need help.’
She waved a hand and glanced around her pointedly. ‘Well, you need something, Dr Sullivan. Starting with a dressing for that burn. Do you have a first-aid kit?’
He looked down at the vicious red mark on his arm. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s blistered.’ She walked across to him and took his arm, moving it slightly so that she could take a better look. ‘And if you don’t dress it, the chances are it will get infected and then it will certainly be something. First-aid kit?’
He inhaled sharply and jerked his head. ‘In that cupboard.’
Maybe if he let her dress his wound, she’d be satisfied and leave.
His eyes tracked her as she walked across the room, noting the swing of her hips and the grace of her movements. Then she reached up into the cupboard and he caught a glimpse of a perfect, rounded bottom hugged by snug jeans. Something long dormant sprang to life inside him.
‘OK.’ She delved in the cupboard and withdrew the right box. ‘Let’s hope there’s something decent in here. Most of the doctors I know aren’t great at putting together first-aid kits.’
She flipped it open, pulled out a few items and then walked towards him. ‘Sit down.’
He tensed. ‘I feel fine. I don’t need to sit down.’
She put the first-aid kit on the table. ‘But you’re at least six-two and I’m just normal-sized,’ she said patiently. ‘If you stand up, it makes it harder for me. Sit.’
He sat, telling himself that he could at least assess her dressing technique.
She worked quickly, her fingers deft and gentle as she dealt with the burn and, for some inexplicable reason, her obvious skill irritated him.
He’d wanted her to be clumsy and