‘I can’t go right now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I need to pack, make a couple of calls, have a sleep.’ She couldn’t just go to London at the drop of a hat. Trips needed careful planning. ‘Besides don’t you need to make plane reservations?’
Daniel dropped a twenty-pound note on the table and, without waiting for his change, took Colleen’s elbow and steered her towards the door. This elbow-steering thing he had was beginning to get out of hand. She cast a desperate glance at Trish who grinned and held two thumbs up. So no help there then.
‘I have a plane. It’s waiting for us at the airport. I’ll take you home and you can pick up anything you might need. You can sleep on the plane.’
‘But..’ Her voice come out as a squeak.
Daniel held the door open and ushered her out. He stopped and stared down at her with his mesmerising eyes. ‘Look, you agreed to meet Harry. The hospital wants to discharge him on Monday, Tuesday at the latest. If I don’t take him home, they’ll transfer him to the nearest rehab unit and I’m not having that.’ He smiled tightly. ‘I promise you, I’ll have you back home tomorrow at the latest.’
He opened the car door and once again she was bundled inside. But there was no reason she could think of, apart from the ones she had raised and he’d swept aside, not to go with him. Ciaran was going to Wales with her brothers for the weekend to watch some rugby match. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask her whether she wanted to go, too. Not that she did, but it would have been nice to be asked. Come to think of it, when had she and Ciaran last done something on their own? Something on the spur of the moment, something romantic? Once more, she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
‘Okay, I’ll come, but I have to go home and collect some stuff first.’ At least Trish couldn’t accuse her of not being spontaneous this time. Truth was, it felt good. Exciting. She would text Ciaran and let him know she was going to London. Maybe that would rock him out of his complacency.
‘Good girl,’ Daniel said. ‘Where to?’
Good girl! What was she—a puppy?
Colleen gave him the address and, as the car moved away, she sent Ciaran and her mother a quick text telling them she was going to London and would call them later. Colleen usually went home for her days off, even when Ciaran wasn’t there, but wasn’t Mammy always telling her that she should stay in Dublin and enjoy herself with her friends sometimes? Why was everyone so determined to tell her to enjoy herself? It wasn’t as if she went around with a face like a camel’s behind all the time. Sheesh!
When the car pulled up outside her flat, Colleen jumped out and ran up the step, telling Daniel she’d be half an hour. To her consternation, when she stopped to open the communal door with her key, she realised that Daniel was standing behind her. The faint scent of expensive aftershave drifted up her nose and she could almost feel the energy vibrating from his body.
For some reason her hand was shaking and she struggled to get the key to work. Daniel leaned over her shoulder. ‘Let me,’ he said. The touch of his hand on hers sent that electric shock up her arm and she dropped her hand, letting him take charge of the key. Now she was enclosed by the circle of his arms and she had to concentrate hard to stop her breath coming out in gasps. Anyone would think she’d never been close to a man in her life.
‘I thought we agreed you would stay in the car,’ she said. Annoyingly, despite her efforts, she still sounded breathless.
‘Did we?’ he said, mildly. ‘I don’t remember that.’
Daniel followed her up the three flights of stairs to her flat. This time she managed to open the door first time. She turned to him. She didn’t want him inside her home. She needed some time to compose herself. ‘Thank you. I can cope fine from here.’ She thought she managed the note of sarcasm perfectly.
To her dismay he ignored her and followed her inside her studio apartment. Couldn’t the man take a hint? But she could hardly order him out of her flat without appearing rude, and she was never rude.
Spying a pair of tights lying discarded on the arm of a chair, she hurried across and scooped them up. Then, through the open door of the bathroom, she noticed her panties and a towel on the floor so she hurried over to scoop them up, too, before shoving the whole lot into the washing machine. Her coffee cup from last night and her supper dishes were still in the sink, but she’d been in a rush to get to work after being held up by a fascinating programme on the television on anteaters.
‘Nice place,’ he said drily. He picked up a magazine from the floor. The Bride. His lips twitched. ‘Interesting dress she’s wearing.’
Colleen snatched it from his hands and shoved it on top of the pile she’d still to read. It tottered there for a moment before the whole lot slid to the ground, fanning out on a heap on the floor. Knowing her face was probably beetroot, she took a deep breath. She never, ever got flustered. What the heck had got into her?
Daniel grinned at her and for a second she thought her heart had stopped beating.
‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said and sought the refuge of her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it. Look, she told herself, firmly, he’s only a man in a fancy suit, even if he does have a heartbreaking smile. God, God, God. Where had the last thought come from?
She set about packing her weekend bag, forcing herself to concentrate on remembering everything. Slippers? Check. Clothes, including clean underwear? Check. Toiletries? She’d pick them up from the bathroom on her way out. What else? Did a person need a passport to travel on a private plane?
She poked her head out of the door. Daniel had made himself comfortable on one of her chairs and was flicking through The Bride magazine, an incredulous look on his face.
‘Do I need my passport?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Er … Dublin isn’t part of the UK, if you remember?’
Colleen slammed the door shut. Now he’d think her an idiot too! By the time they got to London, he’d probably have decided to employ someone else. But why should she think that? He was interested in her for her professional skills—not interviewing her as a potential wife!
Once her bag was packed, she looked in the mirror to check her hair. She was pale with dark smudges under her eyes, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sleep was what she needed. In her feverish haste to pack her bags so that she could get Daniel out of her flat her hair had come loose from its braid and wisps were falling into her eyes. She grabbed her hair brush and redid the plait, making sure every last one of her unruly locks was contained. Then she added a slick of lipstick and she was ready. Or as ready as she’d ever be. For once she wished she had listened to Trish on one of their many futile shopping expeditions—at least as far as Trish was concerned—and had bought a dress she could have worn. Something that would give her confidence.
Daniel got to his feet when she came back out of her bedroom with the slow indolence of a lion waking up from a sleep.
‘I just have to get my wash bag and I’m ready,’ she said.
He took her overnight bag from her hand. ‘Let’s go, then.’
Daniel slid a look at Colleen as they were driven towards the airport. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected.
When she’d turned Haversham down he’d been shocked. No one had ever refused to do something for Daniel before. And the salary—one most people would have found it hard to refuse—hadn’t made the slightest difference. Her refusal had made him more determined to secure her services than he’d been before. And he’d been keen then. Especially after the ringing endorsement her old consultant at Guy’s had given her. ‘She’s a tiger,’ he’d said, ‘and she never gives up. Don’t let that innocent face fool you. What Colleen wants, she gets. Nothing and no one stands in the way of Colleen McCulloch when it comes to what is best