by Sarah Morgan
‘No problem.’ Caroline picked up the results again and then glanced at Holly. ‘Oh, by the way, I gather we’re meeting for a drink tonight.’
Holly swallowed. Was that why she was so cheerful? Because she was going to spend an evening with Mark?
‘Yes—Greg was keen for us all to go out together,’ she murmured and Caroline gave another smile. A special, private one that hinted at secrets.
‘He’s a nice man.’
Holly’s eyes widened. Caroline thought Greg was a nice man! Maybe he was responsible for bringing about this change in her now that Mark was out of the picture. ‘He is indeed,’ she said softly, thinking that the evening at the yacht club was going to be very interesting indeed.
The pharmacist quickly dispensed the correct bandage system and Holly settled Mrs Hunter in a comfortable position.
‘It’s important that you keep your foot at right angles to your leg while I’m putting this on,’ Holly told her, picking up the wool padding which was to be the first layer. She applied it carefully, covering the Achilles tendon and bony prominences and the tendons of the forefoot and then spiralling the wool from the ankle to below the knee.
‘Oh, that does feel comfortable,’ Mrs Hunter said, and Holly smiled.
‘I’m just going to put an extra layer here,’ she told her, winding extra wool over the tibial crest to provide added protection.
She picked up the bandage and started to apply the second layer from the base of the toes, careful to maintain fifty per cent overlap and fifty per cent stretch to ensure just the right amount of pressure on the leg.
‘Goodness me, another layer?’ Mrs Hunter looked surprised as Holly picked up another bandage.
‘We do four layers in all,’ Holly told her, using a figure of eight pattern to allow the bandage to conform to the limb shape.
‘I don’t really understand how I got this wretched ulcer in the first place,’ Mrs Hunter admitted quietly, and Holly glanced up at her with a gentle smile.
‘Well, basically the valves in the veins of your legs aren’t working very well,’ she explained, ‘and they allow a backflow of blood which increases the pressure in your veins. What we’re trying to do with this pressure bandage is to improve the blood flow in your veins and reduce the stagnation in the tissues. I’d like to see your leg again tomorrow, just to check that the bandage hasn’t slipped, and then after the weekend to check that the ulcer isn’t oozing too much and that the pressure is just right. Do you want me to call on you at home?’
‘Goodness me, no!’ Mrs Hunter wiggled her foot back into the oversized slipper she’d brought with her and stood up with Holly’s help. ‘I like the excuse to come out. My daughter always drops me and picks me up.’
‘That’s fine, then.’ Holly pushed the dressing trolley to one side and washed her hands carefully. ‘Dr Logan mentioned how important it is for you to exercise. Just some walking is fine, but if you can’t manage that then just do some gentle exercises with your foot. Like this.’
She demonstrated foot extension, ankle flexion and rotation, and was satisfied that Mrs Hunter understood the importance of what she was doing.
‘The other thing to remember is that you shouldn’t stand for long periods if you can avoid it.’
Mrs Hunter nodded and picked up her handbag. ‘Dr Logan told me the same thing. He’s an excellent young man.’
Holly gave a weak smile. He was indeed.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she murmured, showing Mrs Hunter to the door. ‘Do you want me to arrange transport for you now, or is your daughter giving you a lift?’
‘She’s coming when she’s had her hair done.’ Mrs Hunter hobbled gingerly to the door and smiled at Holly. ‘Thank you, my dear. I’ll wait for her in Reception and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘That’s right.’ Holly watched her go and then turned to find Mark standing in the corridor, an odd expression on his face as he watched her. What did he want? ‘Did you want to talk about Mrs Hunter’s leg?’
‘Mrs Hunter’s leg?’ For a moment he looked blank and then he shook himself. ‘Oh, yes—what did you think?’
‘Well, it isn’t too bad.’ Holly walked back into her room and Mark followed her. ‘I think it should heal. We usually say three months maximum of compression bandage treatment and then if the ulcer hasn’t healed, refer back to the specialist.’
‘That sounds fine by me.’ Mark strolled over to the window and stared across the car park. ‘About tonight...’
Tonight?
‘Oh, Mark!’ She smiled suddenly, remembering her earlier encounter with Caroline. ‘Caroline hinted to me earlier that she really is interested in Greg. We’ll see how she is tonight, but it seems as if you won’t be needing a fiancée for much longer.’
She saw Mark’s head move slightly but he didn’t turn to face her.
‘No, you’re probably right.’ His voice sounded strange and she walked up to him, her expression puzzled.
‘Are you OK?’
Was he really that worried about Caroline?
‘I’m fine,’ he said smoothly, ‘and I’d better get back to my patients.’
Holly watched him leave the room, puzzled and more than a little depressed. Whatever was worrying Mark, she was pretty sure that Caroline was cured. Which meant that, sooner or later, Mark would realise that his life was back to normal. And she would have to make a decision. Continue to work at the practice, knowing Mark would never feel the same way about her, or start looking for another job.
* * *
Despite Mark’s earlier bad mood, they had a surprisingly pleasant evening at the yacht club, and from the way Greg and Caroline behaved towards each other Holly was in no doubt that Mark’s problems were over.
But hers were just starting...
How had she ever let this happen? Why had she been stupid enough to fall in love with him? She should have played the part of his fiancée and then reverted to friendship when the time came without a second thought.
At the end of the evening, her heart sank when Mark invited Caroline to join them all at his house for coffee before Greg took her home. She’d been hoping to be able to escape.
Mark was quiet and thoughtful on the short drive home and once in the house Holly busied herself in the kitchen, making coffee for everyone.
Taking the tray through to the lounge, she heard laughter upstairs and realised that they must be giving Caroline a tour so she unlocked the French doors and stepped out onto the deck for a breath of air.
‘Is something wrong?’
The sound of Mark’s deep voice made her stiffen. She hadn’t realised that he’d left the others.
‘No. Just thinking.’ She stared into the darkness, avoiding his gaze, but he turned her to face him, his long fingers biting into her shoulders.
‘What about? Tell me, Holl.’
His voice sounded urgent, almost desperate, and for a wild moment she was tempted to tell him the truth, but common sense intervened. He didn’t want the truth. He’d be horrified if he found out how she really felt about him.
‘You must be very pleased about Caroline,’ she said, her voice sounding falsely bright even to her ears. ‘Your plan worked.’
His jaw tightened. ‘It seems that way.’
Holly frowned at him, bemused. He certainly didn’t look too happy about it.
‘So...’ She made a huge effort and managed a smile. ‘I suppose we’d better start planning our “break-up” soon.’
For a moment he didn’t respond and then with a muttered oath he reached for her and jerked her against his body, his strong arms locking her against him and his mouth capturing hers in a head-spinning kiss.
Once again his kiss swamped her senses, quenching common sense and stifling rational thought. Although it was only a matter of days since they’d last kissed, his mouth ravaged hers as if they’d been denied contact for months. And this kiss was different. Different from all the others. This time he touched her with more than j
ust his mouth.
His hands slid to her hips and he pulled her hard against his maleness, leaving her in no doubt about the effect she had on him. His hands blatantly traced the contours of her body and before she could anticipate his movements her blouse was undone and the cool night air lapped at her bare skin.
‘Mark!’ She gasped against his mouth and he took instant advantage, his tongue probing deeply, mimicking a more intimate act that he had undoubtedly performed many times but which she had never experienced. Because it had never felt right. Until now. Now the mere hint of what was possible between them made her knees weaken.
Without releasing her mouth, one hand slid higher and she gave a start of shock as she felt the rough scrape of his fingers against her breast, touching her intimately for the first time.
A sharp stab of desire tore through her and she wound her arms round his strong neck, urging him closer, urging him to take more. And still more—
‘Mark? Holly?’
Greg’s voice came from inside the house and with an exclamation that would have appalled his mother Mark lifted his head, quickly adjusting Holly’s clothing so that she was decent.
His breathing uneven, he steadied her with strong hands, his eyes locked with hers for endless seconds before he reluctantly released her.
Barely able to stand, Holly leaned against the balcony, her face shocked as she considered the implications of what had happened. Why had he done that? Why?
That hadn’t just been a kiss—that had been...
Cheeks flaming, she took some deep breaths and watched as Mark turned and strode back into the sitting room, obviously intent on distracting their guests and giving her some time to compose herself after their encounter.
She certainly needed it. Waiting for her cheeks to cool and her body to stop tingling, she stayed on the balcony, protected by the darkness. Her mind ached with confusion.
Caroline was clearly only interested in Greg now.
So why was Mark still kissing her?
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘IT HURTS when I go to the toilet.’
Holly blinked and tried to concentrate on what the young woman was telling her. All she could think about was Mark and that last kiss that they’d shared.
Why? Why had he done that?
She checked the girl’s notes for a past history of cystitis.
Was he just making sure that Caroline was in no doubt about their relationship? Was he was just keeping up the act until they could find a convincing way of ending it all?
Forcing her mind back to the job, she tested the girl’s urine, sent off a midstream specimen to the laboratory for culture and gave her general advice on managing attacks.
It was late afternoon when Tina buzzed her and said that there was an extra patient who needed to be seen.
‘It’s a young man—Steven Hall—on holiday, cut himself. Do you mind Holly? He’s slightly the worse for wear, I’m afraid, but he seems quite affable.’
Holly stiffened. ‘Slightly the worse for wear’ obviously meant he’d been drinking, which could mean—
‘Send him through.’
The moment she opened the door, she recognised him as one of the teenagers who had been drinking on the boat the day of Mark’s rescue. His hair was dishevelled and his eyes were bright.
Her throat dried and she stood to one side to let him pass. ‘You’d better sit down.’
It was either that or fall down if appearances were anything to go by.
‘Thanks, Nurse.’ He gave a gentle hiccup and plopped into the chair, gripping the sides to balance himself.
Holly relaxed slightly. Tina was right. He seemed affable enough. There was nothing to worry about.
‘So, what have you done to yourself?’ She tugged on a pair of gloves and moved closer, intending to examine his arm which was covered in a grubby towel.
‘Don’t touch it!’ He turned from affable to aggressive in less than a second and Holly stepped backwards, her heart pounding. In an instant the memories surged into her head and panic threatened to swamp common sense.
Part of her wanted to run and hide, but another part of her recognised that one day she was going to have to face up to her fears, and maybe today was the day. True, he was drunk, but that didn’t mean that anything was going to happen, she told herself firmly. He was verbally aggressive, but not physically—yet. She could handle it.
‘Steven?’ She took a deep breath and made her voice friendly and non-threatening. ‘You wanted to see someone about your arm. I can’t help you unless you let me look at it.’
He stood up and swayed slightly, obviously concentrating hard on not falling over. He smelt of alcohol and suddenly seemed to be having trouble focusing, his eyes drifting away from her as he spoke.
‘I need...’ He slurred his words and broke off and tried again. ‘I need you to sew up my arm—that’s all. I don’t need you to poke it around. And you’d better not hurt me.’
Holly felt her legs start to shake, and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing. Mark was just the other side of the corridor. He’d never let anything happen to her. She swallowed hard. But he didn’t know she needed him, did he? He wouldn’t know that she had a reason to be afraid because she’d never had the courage to face up to it all and tell him what had happened.
And now she was on her own with this man. And he was very drunk. Drunker than she’d first thought.
‘I need to examine it before I can tell you what treatment you need.’ Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her palms were clammy. ‘How did you do it, Steven?’
She tried to keep her voice crisp and professional, hoping that he wouldn’t see how scared she was.
‘On a bottle, and—’ he swayed towards her slightly ‘—I’ve told you what treatment I need. I need stitches.’
Trying to control her breathing, Holly backed away from him, battling with the panic that gnawed away at her insides. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it. She needed Mark.
‘I’ll ask one of the doctors to come in.’
‘I don’t want a doctor.’ He stumbled slightly and grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past him, dragging her back in front of him. ‘You’ll do fine. You’re really, really pretty. Better looking than any doctor. And anyway, women are more gentle.’
‘Let me go!’ She tugged at her arm, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the alcohol fumes hit her in the face. His fingers tightened on her and she struggled to free herself, really afraid now. In a rush of terror she was transported back to that dreadful day, to the sudden tearing pain, the awful violence—‘No!’
The door opened suddenly and Mark paused briefly, his eyes darkening in anger as he took in the scene in front of him. With a low curse he strode across the room, dragging the youth away from her in one powerful movement.
Her heart pounding, Holly wrapped her arms round her waist, her legs shaking as she watched Mark lift the young drunk, pinning him against the wall with a frightening show of strength.
Holly flinched. She’d seen Mark angry before, of course. When they were young he’d always been a bit too quick with his fists for the liking of the teachers, but she’d never seen anything like the cold fury she saw in his eyes now.
‘Don’t you ever, ever lay a finger on anyone in this practice again,’ he growled, easily resisting the teenager’s feeble attempt to escape.
‘Let me go! I’ll sue you for this.’ The drunk struggled again and Mark’s grip tightened.
‘Go ahead.’ His voice was soft and so loaded with menace that Holly wasn’t surprised to see the younger man pale. ‘Just don’t ever touch my fiancée again. Or I’ll give you plenty to sue me for.’
‘He—he didn’t really touch me,’ Holly muttered, but Mark’s mouth set in a grim line.
‘From where I was standing it looked as though he was touching you.’
‘Your fiancée—?’ The young man tried to focus and then gave a drunken grin. ‘I
didn’t know she was your fiancée.’
‘Well, you know now.’ Mark’s tone was icy cold but Holly could see that he was back in control again. Just.
He released the boy suddenly and flexed his fingers, disgust in his eyes as he looked at the swaying figure in front of him.
‘Are you sure he didn’t hurt you, Holl?’
‘He didn’t hurt me.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper and Mark gave her a quick glance, his face darkening as he scanned her pale features.
He turned back to the youth, his expression contemptuous. ‘Sit down before you fall down.’
Steven sat without question, looking at Mark with some trepidation.
‘So are you going to sew up my arm, or what?’
‘I’ll sew up your arm.’ Mark walked across to Holly and pulled her towards him, slipping his car keys into her hand as he spoke to her in a calm, quiet voice. ‘I want you to go and sit in my car and wait for me.’
Holly didn’t argue. She didn’t want to argue. She was just happy for him to take charge.
She walked quickly through Reception, ignoring the inquisitive looks she received. Once in the car park she found Mark’s car, unlocked the door and sank down into the comfortable leather seats with her eyes closed.
Mark joined her less than fifteen minutes later, fine lines of tension visible around his dark eyes.
‘That must have been a rush job,’ Holly said, running her tongue along dry lips and forcing a smile. ‘You didn’t give the local anaesthetic time to work.’
‘I didn’t use local anaesthetic,’ Mark said roughly. ‘He was too drunk to notice what I was doing. Unfortunately. A bit of pain might have brought him to his senses.’
‘Maybe.’ Holly gave a wan smile and he turned to look at her, his dark eyes concerned.
‘You’re still shaking. Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ Holly clenched her hands together in her lap, her knuckles white. ‘It wasn’t his fault, Mark. He didn’t really do anything. It was me. I just panicked.’
‘But he touched you, which he shouldn’t have done, and that was enough to frighten you to death. And what I want to know,’ Mark said softly, ‘is why?’
