by Karin Baine
Once the water had turned colder than he was prepared to subject himself to, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
The en suite bathroom made his wardrobe accessible without having to compromise his modesty.
If he was spending the afternoon with Sir Pees-a-Lot, he wasn’t going to risk another good suit. He bypassed the smart shirts and trousers, reaching for the comfy, less expensive option of a well-worn pair of jeans and a sweater.
The bedroom door burst open just as he was about to unfasten the towel. A flash of brindle brown, a tug at the hem of the towel and Charles felt cold air on his naked skin.
He exclaimed in exasperation, ‘What the hell...?’
That was closely followed by Harriet’s ‘Dougal!’
As she ran into the room Charles was left cupping his hands over his privates to save both their blushes. Nothing she hadn’t seen before but the way she was staring at him made him feel more exposed than ever. He should’ve been flattered by the blatant ogling but with a rogue puppy wrestling with his towel on his bedroom floor it was downright embarrassing.
‘Well, this is awkward.’ He sidestepped towards the clothes he had laid out on his bed, wondering how he could dress without flashing her again.
Harriet blinked at him a few times before she became animated again. ‘Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, Charles. He slipped past me when I was putting the kettle on for a cup of tea. He’s as fast as lightning.’
‘It’s okay. You need eyes in the back of your head to watch this one.’ What else could he say to make this whole episode less embarrassing for both of them? This dog had a lot to answer for.
‘Dougal. Drop it. Drop it.’ Harriet attempted to retrieve the towel Charles would appreciate having back. Dougal clamped on tighter to his prize. Charles knew at first hand those little teeth were like needles.
‘Leave it. If the two of you wouldn’t mind leaving, I might salvage some of my dignity.’ An unfortunate choice of words given what he was clutching at the moment.
‘No problem. Sorry. Again.’ She reached for the dignity-destroyer, who saw this as some sort of game and dashed away every time Harriet came close. Eventually she managed to grab one end of the towel and entered into a tug of war.
It was all becoming ridiculous now. All they needed was Esme to walk in on this farce and she’d laugh herself into a coma.
‘Give. Me. The. Damn. Towel.’ Harriet gave one last yank and emerged victorious, clutching the now chewed towel. Although she did manage to land flat on her backside in the process. Dougal had bested them both.
‘I’m not sure who won that one. I’d help you up but...’ He shrugged, unable to come out of this situation as a gentleman.
She stood up and held the towel out to him. Even then he wasn’t sure how to accept it without making another show of himself.
‘You might want to close your eyes or something.’
‘Don’t be silly. We’re both adults.’ The twinkle in her eyes said she wasn’t offended, or surprised, by what she’d seen.
She wrapped the towel around his waist for him, pressing her body to his as she did so. Close enough that Charles could hear the hitch in her breath, feel her warmth on his skin, and it was torture that he couldn’t do a thing about it.
* * *
Harriet sensed his eyes on her before she saw him watching her so intently. So much for remaining emotionally detached. Now here she was standing in his bedroom with her arms wrapped around Charles’s lower half with the most recent image of what lay beneath burned on her brain.
Her skin was flushed with the heat of arousal, not embarrassment, remembering the last time she’d had her hands on his naked body. It would be easy to fall into bed with him again and forget everything except how good he could make her feel.
‘Harriet...’ That husky tone of his desire shot straight to her loins, cutting off all common sense in favour of a more basic need.
She closed her eyes against temptation, but it didn’t help her forget the softness of his lips, the memory of him kissing her fresh enough to make hers tingle.
‘Don’t.’ It was a plea for him to stop. If he made a move on her she couldn’t resist because she didn’t want to. She ached for him and to share his bed again. It was only her long-held insecurities maintaining that last defence.
Sex with Charles would only complicate her life. London had proved that. Her seduction hadn’t given her any sort of closure but instead had opened a whole new chapter between them.
He rested his chin on her head and sighed. A reflection of Harriet’s own frustration at their situation. She wanted to cry but Charles continued to hold her as though he was drawing as much comfort as she was from this embrace.
Yes, he was wearing virtually nothing, and she was aware of every taut inch of him as she pressed her cheek against his chest. Even if he’d been fully clothed in a room full of people the moment would’ve been as touching, and intimate.
They’d made mistakes and suffered as a result, but they couldn’t go back and change anything any more than they could predict what was going to happen. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had simply held her, or when she’d let them. Accepting comfort seemed like a failure to her. As though the stresses of life had defeated her. She’d learned long ago not to give in and admit she couldn’t do everything on her own. Growing up with her mother hadn’t left room for two to wallow in personal hardship. One of them had to be strong enough to carry the other and in her case, the child had become the parent.
Later, when Charles had broken her heart, she’d been in need of a shoulder to cry on. With none available she’d soldiered on lest she let melancholy consume her as it had her mother. Since then, she’d cultivated pride in her independence and in taking back control of her emotions.
This warmth from his touch even without the physical attraction reminded her of everything she’d been missing in her pursuit of a self-sufficient life.
She sighed, and Charles continued to maintain the simple contact. Given their traumatic history and the break-up he’d told her he hadn’t wanted, it was possible he’d been living in emotional isolation too. Even though he mightn’t have replaced her in his affections, the thought didn’t please her. Rather, sadness settled over her as she realised what they’d both lost.
A sharp yelp reminded them Dougal was in the room and they broke apart.
‘I think someone wants your attention.’ Charles was smiling at her, but his hangdog expression was tugging at her heartstrings more than the little one nipping at her heel. The fact Charles might crave something more than her attention was something she couldn’t afford to indulge.
‘He’s due a feed.’
‘I can see that,’ Charles laughed as Dougal caught the bottom of his towel and tugged again. This time Charles was ready and managed to keep a tight hold of his modesty.
‘This time I’ll lock him in solitary confinement if I have to.’ The dog was turning out to be such an excellent guardian against her making bad decisions she might just adopt him herself.
CHAPTER SIX
‘IT’S MY WAY of saying thank you for not driving Dougal to the nearest dog pound.’
Esme plated up the dinner she’d insisted on cooking, regardless that she’d only recently finished work. She was another one who didn’t submit to a typical nine-to-five schedule but had made an effort to get home to cook this feast.
‘Really, you didn’t have to.’
Harriet would have settled for something as plain as a slice of toast. Her stomach had been somersaulting since she’d walked into Charles’s room to find him naked. The sight of him sitting opposite her at the dinner table in his casual wear hadn’t lessened the impact he’d had on her when she’d set eyes on him again.
Now, as well as the memories of rolling around in bed with him, his very presence reminde
d her of the vulnerability of being in his arms. When she’d let go of everything except the bliss she’d found in his embrace. It was unnerving that she’d lost that much control around him, yet she yearned to do it again and again. It didn’t help when the four of them—Esme, Charles, Max and herself—seemed like they were on a double date. At worst, a family meal she was intruding on or anything else she didn’t have a legitimate reason to attend.
Charles tucked into the home-cooked meal with gusto, his appetite greater than Harriet’s.
‘This is amazing.’ Max reached across to squeeze Esme’s hand in thanks and the pure love in their eyes for each other was so touching Harriet had to turn away before she started blubbing.
It was hard to believe she and Charles had ever been that oblivious to the world around them, though they must’ve been at some point. Certainly, Charles had blamed their relationship for making him blind to his father’s struggles after Nick had died. That was what had made his blunt dismissal so hard to accept when she’d still been loved up. If Max turned on Esme now it would blindside her too, Harriet was sure. Love was a painful business.
‘So, what did you guys get up to this afternoon after you left the centre?’ As innocent as it was, Esme’s question almost made Harriet choke on her dinner as a naked Charles sprang to mind.
He was smirking at her now, daring her to share their adventures in his bedroom, which, although without serious incident, were memorable all the same. It turned out to be something she’d prefer to keep private between them for more than one reason.
‘We were...er...busy trying to keep Dougal out of trouble.’ Eventually Charles jumped in with a truthful half-answer.
Harriet couldn’t help but smile at him in thanks and because of the memories of the pup running rings around them.
‘He’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. Max is going to install safety gates. You know, the ones you use for babies. They’ll come in handy in the future anyway.’ It was at the last second Esme caught what she was saying. Max too, judging by the expression of horror on his face.
‘Harriet’s pregnant,’ Esme blurted out, probably before Max keeled over thinking she was the one planning a baby in the near future.
Charles dropped his knife and fork onto his plate with a clatter. ‘For goodness’ sake. Harriet asked you to keep it yourself.’
‘Sorry,’ Esme mumbled into her chest, but Harriet would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t shared the news with Max at some point, given the close nature of their relationship.
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry. We’ve just found out we’re expecting, Max, and we’re trying to figure things out at the moment.’ She didn’t know how much of their history he was aware of but there was no reason to make anyone feel guilty about the situation. The news had to come out some time.
Max nodded sagely. ‘Sure. It’s a lot to take in. I won’t breathe a word to anyone.’
‘Thanks.’ For all Harriet knew, she’d be gone by the end of the week, with no need to put Max or Esme under pressure to keep their secret.
‘Congratulations.’ Max raised a glass to toast them and Harriet clinked her water against it.
‘You too, mate.’ He reached across the table to shake Charles’s hand.
‘Cheers.’ Charles was beaming, and the simple acceptance of the unplanned pregnancy began to make her feel part of the family. Not the best environment to nurture that sense of isolation she needed to maintain control in her life.
Heatherglen was offering that support to her child she hadn’t had growing up, but she wasn’t convinced it would be a good move for her personally. A miserable mother, as she knew, did not a happy childhood make. It would take her to get past her feelings about Charles, positive and negative, to be able to face him on a daily basis.
‘Harriet and I are going to take a trip into the village tomorrow.’ Charles dropped the next bombshell into the middle of their meal.
‘We are?’
‘You are?’ Esme echoed Harriet’s surprise at the announcement when he hadn’t consulted either of them.
He carried on eating without missing a beat. ‘I thought I could show you around. The shops should be open again and I expect you’ll need to get a few things.’
‘I do.’ The trip would take them away from the patients, family and four-legged friends who’d provided a necessary buffer between them today, leaving them alone. A dangerous position as this afternoon had demonstrated. Yet the gesture proved he had been thinking about her, about spending time with her, and anticipating her needs for her unexpected extended stay. She couldn’t turn him down even if she wanted to.
Out of the corner of her eye Harriet could see Esme shaking her head.
‘What?’ Charles demanded to know why she disapproved of his plan. Harriet too wondered why such a thoughtful gesture should warrant the negative response.
‘You never take time off. Yesterday was Christmas Day and you spent most of it at the clinic. It’s so unlike you, bro.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe I have different priorities now.’
Harriet snapped her head up at that.
‘Already? Wow. Fatherhood must be agreeing with you.’ His sister teased him, their back and forth relationship dizzying, but it showed how close they were. Only two people who loved each other could generate such strong and varying degrees of emotion. One minute they were at each other’s throats, gently joshing the next. If Harriet had had a sibling, she would’ve had someone on her side supporting her through the ups and downs. She might not have shut down emotionally over the years if she’d had someone giving her a kick up the backside when she’d required it. Annoying her when she hadn’t.
It was a nice idea that her little one might have that family support but it made her consider what sort of relationship she had with Charles. Their lives had already been turned upside down without future family planning too. They weren’t even together. In case she’d forgotten it, she was supposed to be putting him off the idea of her hanging around so she could return to London. It was ridiculous to go down the road of believing they could have a family together when their circumstances were so unstable.
Yet he was making an effort to convince her and Esme he was going to change and manage his time at Heatherglen so he could devote himself to her and the baby. This wasn’t the Charles she’d anticipated finding at the castle, Laird of all he surveyed and unwilling to give up anything for anyone. Now every little thing he did for her, every concession was going to make it harder for her to walk away when the time came.
* * *
‘Ready?’ Charles waited for her to belt herself in, his hand on the ignition key as though he was giving her the opportunity to bale out. This venture was about more than replenishing her wardrobe. He was showing her he would prioritise her when he had to. The significance wasn’t lost on Harriet, but anyone could make a promise. It was being true to your word that counted. Only with time and a history of seeing things through could she be convinced he meant what he said.
She couldn’t expect Charles to drop work to take her on a shopping jaunt when the mood struck, neither would she want him to. It wasn’t the commitment to his patients she had an issue with. Raising a child necessitated making small compromises on a regular basis for school runs, holidays or illness. Children didn’t run to a schedule and Harriet would rather manage it all on her own than have him complain every time he had to make alternative work arrangements.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ she sighed, and buckled up for the bumpy ride they were about to undertake.
‘The roads have turned icy overnight so I’ll take it easy. I’m carrying a precious load after all.’
She didn’t know if he was talking about her or the baby as he negotiated the frosty lanes with his foot hovering on the brake. They came as a package now but that would change, physically, in about seven months’ time.
If s
he decided not to move and he wanted their child at weekends and holidays it was going to be difficult. Should she have other work commitments, or Charles no longer thought of her as part of the equation, the separation was bound to be stressful. She was already fitting in here way too easily, with everyone being so accommodating. In some ways it was like being a child again, only with people who were taking her feelings into consideration along with their own.
‘It’s like a scene from a Christmas film where they’ve thrown in every cliché they could think of to make it look festive here.’ In the city, snow was a cold, slushy nuisance, causing accidents and slowing traffic to a standstill. Here in the country she was able to take the time to appreciate the beauty in the weather. The white undisturbed fields, glistening invitingly, made Harriet want to roll around and make her mark where no one else had.
As they approached the village, the cosy fairy-tale cottages coughed wisps of smoke into the freezing air and told of the families inside sitting around the fire.
‘Different from London?’ Charles would take this vista for granted when he had it on his doorstep. Gaudy lights, over-decorated trees and throngs of harassed shoppers would be as much of a novelty to him as this was to her. It was only the potential hazards of the season that linked the vastly different locations.
They stopped at a junction just outside the village to check for oncoming traffic, only for the car to continue travelling out onto the road after Charles had applied the handbrake.
‘We must’ve hit a patch of black ice.’ Very experienced in driving in these kinds of conditions, he did his best to control the vehicle, steering into the skid instead of fighting against it.
The car eventually slid to a halt and Harriet sent fervent thanks to the heavens that they were alone on the road. They would’ve been helpless should anyone else have been coming towards them. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around her belly, that mama bear already fully formed and protective of her cub.
