‘Is Luke okay?’
‘He’s fine. I asked Cassie to do his dressing.’
‘Was he upset?’
‘Upset?’
‘Because I told him he should be taking his own blood sugars?’
‘He just took it.’
‘Oh.’
Ross frowned, and then he shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Do you think you’re here to be told off?’
‘I told him he was acting like a baby.’
‘I’ve told him the same,’ Ross said. ‘Many times. You were fine in there—would you please stop doubting yourself all the time?’
‘I’ll try.’
‘How come you’re finishing early?’
‘I worked through lunch; I’m going home at three.’ She let out a breath. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘That offer’s still there.’ He saw her slight frown. ‘To talk.’
‘Thank you.’
And when she didn’t walk off, neither did Ross.
‘Do you want to come riding?’ There was an argument raging in his head—he was going away soon, they had promised to keep things on ice till he returned, and yet he couldn’t just leave her like this.
‘Riding?’
‘At the farm.’
‘I’ve never ridden.’
‘It’s the best thing in the world after a tough day,’ Ross said. ‘You’ll love it.’
‘How do you know?’ Annika said.
‘I just know.’ He watched her cheeks darken further. ‘Annika, I will not lay a finger on you. It’s just a chance to get away …’
‘I don’t like talking like this when I’m on duty.’
‘Then give me half an hour to call in a favour and I’ll meet you in the canteen.’
She wasn’t going back to the farm with him. Her hand was shaking as she opened her locker, and then she picked up her phone and turned it on. She saw missed calls from her mother, her family’s agent, her brother Iosef, a couple from Annie and four from Aleksi. She turned it off. Right now she was finding it very hard to breathe.
She didn’t want to go home.
Didn’t want to give a comment.
Didn’t want a spin doctor or a night out at some posh restaurant with her family just to prove they were united.
Which was why she turned left for the canteen.
He drove; she followed in her own car. He had a small flat near the hospital, Ross had explained, for nights on call, but home was further away, and by the time they got there it was coming up for five. As they slid into his long driveway, she saw the tumbled old house and sprawling grounds. For the first time since she had been awoken by a journalist at five a.m., asking her to offer a comment, Annika didn’t have to remember to breathe.
It just happened.
And when she stepped out of the car she saw all the flowers waving in the breeze—the same kind of flowers he had brought for her.
Ross had picked them.
The inside was scruffy, but nice: boots in the hallway, massive couches, and a very tidy kitchen, thanks to the cleaner who was just leaving.
‘Hungry?’ Ross asked, and she gave a small shrug.
‘A bit.’
‘I’ll pack a picnic.’
‘Am I to learn to ride in my uniform?’
He laughed and found her some jodhpurs that he said belonged to one of his sisters, some boots that belonged to someone else, though he wasn’t sure who, and an old T-shirt of his.
Annika didn’t know what she was doing here.
But it was like a retreat and she was grateful for it.
She was grateful too for familiarity in the strangest of places. There were pictures of Iosef there with Ross, from twenty years old to the present day. They grew up before her eyes as she walked along the hallway—and, though she had never really discussed the Detsky Dom with her brother, somehow with Ross she could.
‘I expected them to be more miserable,’ Annika said, staring at a photo of some grinning, pimply-faced teenagers, with Ross and Iosef beaming in the middle. It was a Iosef she had never seen.
‘Our soccer team had just won!’ Ross grinned at the memory. ‘It’s not all doom and gloom.’
‘I know,’ Annika said, glad that now she did, because there were so many questions she felt she couldn’t ask her brothers.
‘There’s an awful lot of love there,’ Ross said, ‘there’s just not enough to go around. The staff are wonderful …’
And she was glad to hear that.
She was glad too when she walked back into the kitchen. They had had very little conversation—she was too tired and confused and brain-weary to talk—but he got one essential thing out of the way.
He held her.
It was as if he had been waiting for her, and she stepped so easily into his arms. She never cried, and she certainly wouldn’t now, but it had been a horrible day, a rotten day, and although Iosef, Annie, Aleksi, her friends, would all do their best to offer comfort—she was sure of that—Ross was far nicer. He didn’t ask, or make her explain, he just held her, and the attraction that had always been there needed no explanation or discussion. It just was. It just is, Annika thought.
His chest smelt as she remembered. He was, she decided as she rested in his arms, an absolute contradiction, because he both relaxed and excited her. She could feel herself unwind. She felt the hammer of his heart in her ear and looked up.
‘One kiss,’ she said.
‘Look where that got us last time.’
‘Just one,’ Annika said, ‘to chase away the day.’
So he kissed her. His lovely mouth kissed hers and her wretched day disappeared. He tasted as unique as he had the first time he’d kissed her, as if blended just for her. His mouth made hers an expert. They moved as if they were reuniting, tongues blending and chasing. His body was taut, and made hers do bold things like press a little into him. Her fingers wanted to hook into the loop of his belt and pull him in harder, and so she did. Their breathing was ragged and close and vital, and when he pulled back he gave her that delicious smile.
‘Come on.’
He gave her his oldest, slowest, most trustworthy horse to ride, and helped her climb on, but even as the horse moved a couple of steps she felt as if the ground was giving way and let out a nervous call.
‘Sit back in the saddle.’ Ross grinned. ‘Just relax back into it.’
She felt as if she would fall backwards, or slide off, every muscle in her body tense as they clopped at a snail’s pace out of the stables.
‘Keep your heels down,’ Ross said, as if it were that easy. Every few steps she lost a stirrup, but the horse, along with Ross, was so endlessly patient that soon they were walking. Annika concentrated on not leaning forward and keeping her heels down, and there was freedom, the freedom of thinking about nothing other than somehow staying on. After a little