Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts)

by Catherine George

  Kate shifted restlessly. ‘We were making love. You were running your hands through my hair—’

  ‘That figures. That wonderful hair of yours does amazing things to my libido, darling.’ He leaned over and kissed her gently, then with increased heat when her lips opened to him. When he raised his head she smiled up at him radiantly.

  ‘You’re very good for me, Alasdair Drummond.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’ve seen myself in the mirror, remember? It’s amazing you should want to come near me, let alone kiss me.’

  His eyes blazed with sudden anger. ‘I love you, Katharine Dysart. Bruised, battered, or all in one small, ravishing piece, it makes no difference. Remember that.’

  ‘I will,’ she whispered, her eyes brilliant.

  ‘If you look at me like that I’ll come in there and join you,’ he growled.

  ‘Promises, promises!’

  He laughed. ‘So when are you likely to get out of here?’

  ‘Tomorrow this contraption comes off my head and I finish my pills, and if I’m very, very good I go home the day after, according to Sister.’ Kate smiled at him. ‘So depend on it—I’ll be very good indeed.’

  Next morning Kate woke with the feeling that something momentous was in store for her. Removal of the dressing, and maybe a shampoo to follow, she thought happily, and smiled as the nurse came in with her cup of tea.

  ‘Morning, Debs. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. And so are you, by the sound of it. These are the last of your pills, so down with them. Tomorrow you could be going home.’

  ‘Which is why I’m chirpy!’

  Kate ate breakfast, bade Debs goodbye until evening, and sat waiting in a state of great anticipation until Sister arrived, followed by Michelle with a dressing tray.

  ‘Good morning, Kate,’ said Sister cheerfully. ‘Time to say goodbye to your stitches.’

  Kate sat very still while the turban and the dressings underneath were removed. And registered something wrong. Horribly wrong.

  ‘Your main problem was the blow to your forehead,’ Sister informed her. ‘It caused the bruising and swelling to your face, and contributed to the blood loss, but by some miracle your nose remained intact. There was another deep cut, high up on the back of your neck, probably due to broken glass, and I’m afraid your hair was so matted with blood and glass splinters it had to be sheared off to get at the wound.’

  Kate sat in silence, not even registering physical pain as stitches were removed. She felt totally numb. Her hair had been her one great vanity, with never more than an inch at a time trimmed from it since she was a child.

  When the session was over, Kate felt oddly light about the head. ‘I’d like to go to the bathroom please,’ she said politely.

  ‘Wait for her, Nurse,’ said Sister, then gave Kate an encouraging smile. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll soon be back to normal.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister.’

  Alone behind the closed bathroom door, Kate leaned against it for a moment. Taking her courage in both hands, she went to the sink, stared down into it for a moment, then faced herself in the mirror. After one horrified look she felt the room swim round her, and she backed away to sit on the edge of the bath, her sore, shorn head in her hands. Stop it, she ordered herself fiercely. Otherwise they’ll put you back to bed and keep you there until you can look at yourself without passing out. But all she could think about was Alasdair. Alasdair who found her hair so irresistible.

  The dream came back in full force. Only this time it was recall, pure and simple. Shaking inside, she found she could remember their day together in every detail. Choosing colours for his walls. Eating dinner. Going to bed. Making wonderful, magical love together. A good thing she remembered it so well, she thought bitterly. Now she lacked the flowing hair which made Alasdair so hot for her he was unlikely to want a repeat performance.

  Straightening, she stood at the basin again and examined her face, which was much improved. There was a light dressing on the scar on her forehead, and the bruises were fading rapidly. But the emergency haircut had left her looking like Peter Pan on a bad hair day.

  ‘Kate?’ Michelle tapped on the door. ‘Are you all right?’

  Kate opened the door, doing her best to smile. ‘Not really.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘My hair. Or sudden lack of it.’

  ‘It was long before the accident?’ said the girl with sympathy.

  ‘Silly at my age, I suppose, but, yes, it was.’ Kate’s mouth twisted. ‘My one great vanity.’

  ‘Hair soon grows. And they managed to treat your wounds without shaving it off, at least! The minute you’re better you can have it trimmed professionally and you’ll look great.’

  Kate spent the day sitting in a chair, half hidden by the curtain at the window. At first her instinct had been to dive into bed and hide there. Instead she spent long hours staring, unseeing, at the rooftops of Pennington while she grappled with total recall of the past, and then went on to some hard thinking about the future.

  After the lunch Kate didn’t want she decided it was time to get dressed properly.

  ‘No more lolling about in a dressing gown,’ she told Michelle.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  Kate was glad of it. By the time she was in jeans and jersey she was tired out.

  ‘How feeble can you get!’ she said scornfully.

  ‘You’re doing much better than anyone expected,’ said Michelle firmly. ‘Now, you sit back in the chair and listen to your story, or whatever. And drink some of that water before I bring tea. You need plenty of fluids.’

  Kate grew gradually more tense as the day wore on. When her parents arrived during the afternoon they did their best to hide their reaction to her hair with exclamations of pleasure that she was up and dressed and minus the turban.

  ‘You look really cute with short hair,’ said her father valiantly.

  ‘Good try, Dad,’ mocked Kate.

  Frances gave her a disapproving frown. ‘Your hair will grow again, Katharine. Just be thankful the rest of you survived.’

  Katharine! Used in full only when her mother was cross with her. ‘I know, I know,’ said Kate wearily. ‘It was just the shock. Seeing myself for the first time. I’ll get used to it. Eventually.’

  ‘You look very tired still,’ said Frances, sighing. ‘I’ll be glad to get you home tomorrow and put you to bed in your own room.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay up there on my own, Mother,’ protested Kate. ‘I want to be downstairs with you, and go out with Pan and breathe some fresh air.’

  ‘You remember Pan, then?’ said Tom, beaming.

  ‘I was wallowing so much in self-pity I forgot to tell you,’ said Kate in remorse. ‘I can remember pretty much everything now.’ She reached in her pocket for the jewellery box and took out the brooch. ‘How much did this fetch, Dad?’

  ‘Good Lord,’ he said, surprised. ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘Mr Spencer brought it the other day, just as Mother was leaving. A present from his sister, he said.’

  Frances gazed at the brooch incredulously. ‘But that’s—’

  ‘Cartier,’ agreed Kate. ‘I hadn’t a clue. I thought it was costume jewellery until Alasdair put me right.’

  ‘You’re not going to keep it, darling?’

  ‘No fear. So come clean, Dad? What did you get for it?’

  ‘Two thousand eight hundred,’ said her father, bringing an exclamation of distress from his wife.

  ‘Exactly, Mother,’ sighed Kate. ‘It’s too much to accept, whoever gave it to me. And Alasdair’s convinced Jack Spencer was just pretending it came from his sister so he could give me an expensive present.’

  ‘But why would he do that?’

  ‘Who knows?’ said Kate, shrugging. ‘Alasdair’s convinced he’s after my body. Which is a laugh. What man in his right mind would fancy someone who looks the way I do now?’

  ‘You’re feeling s
orry for yourself again,’ said Frances severely. ‘And you’re tired. So we’ll go now, because Adam’s popping in later. And no doubt Alasdair will be here this evening?’

  ‘Yes.’ Though she was dreading it.

  ‘Then get some rest. I’ll be back to collect you tomorrow, after you’ve seen the consultant, so please try to keep in one piece until I can take you home!’

  Kate got back on the bed, glad to lie down for a while before supper. But she was back in the chair, lipsticked and perfumed, by the time Adam came in.

  ‘Hi, half-pint,’ he said grinning. ‘Wow—great hair! The naughty schoolboy look. Mega-sexy.’

  Kate laughed, despite herself. ‘You sure do know how to make a girl feel good, Adam Dysart.’

  ‘I get few complaints,’ he said smugly, and perched on the window ledge. ‘So when are they letting you out of here?’

  ‘Tomorrow, if I’m good.’ Kate looked at him steadily. ‘Seriously, Adam, do I look a fright?’

  ‘Just because you’ve got short hair?’ he said with scorn. ‘Remember the time Jess had hers hacked off for Leo’s wedding? It didn’t put Lorenzo off much, did it?’

  ‘True. But it’s not Lorenzo I’m worried about.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry about Alasdair either.’

  Kate wasn’t so sure. By the time Alasdair arrived that night, later than expected, she was in a state of nerves which would have won Sister’s deep disapproval.

  When Alasdair came in at last he sucked in a breath as he saw the empty bed, then Kate said his name and he spun round, his relief so intense she relaxed a little as he strode across the room.

  ‘You keep frightening the hell out of me,’ he said fiercely, and bent to kiss her.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, her heart taking a nosedive when she saw the shock in his eyes as he straightened.

  ‘Your turban’s gone,’ he said, after a pause which lasted a heartbeat too long.

  ‘And most of my hair along with it,’ she said flippantly. ‘It’s the latest thing. Peter Pan, wired.’

  ‘Why was it cut off?’

  ‘I’ve got a gash on the back of my neck. They couldn’t get at it so they cut my hair off. With a blunt instrument, by the look of it. When I can I’ll get it trimmed, but in the meantime—’

  ‘In the meantime you can thank your lucky stars you survived,’ he said forcibly, and clenched his teeth on a shiver. ‘When I think of what could have happened I get nightmares.’

  ‘I hope I don’t.’ She smiled a little. ‘By the way, my memory’s resumed normal service. One look at the new me in the mirror this morning and that was it. Total recall’

  He shot a look at her. ‘So you remember what happened between us that night?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ Kate held his eyes relentlessly. ‘Also something that didn’t happen. Which is all to the good, Alasdair. Because deep down you really can’t cope with my new look, can you?’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘THAT’S not true,’ Alasdair retorted, but Kate shook her head in reproof.

  ‘You’re lying. Very gallantly, but lying just the same. Just as you’ve done ever since I got here,’ she added. ‘As I said, I remember every detail of our evening now—the meal, the lovemaking, most of the drive home, even—but one piece of the puzzle is missing. We didn’t get engaged.’

  Alasdair’s face set. ‘No, we didn’t. But the only way I could get in to see you here at first was by saying I was your fiancé. Your parents heard about it before I could explain, and afterwards they were so kind to me about it I hadn’t the heart to say it was a mistake.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Kate said kindly. ‘I’ll tell them for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’ Alasdair produced a box from his pocket and snapped it open. ‘I’ve bought you a ring.’

  Kate stared blankly at the large solitaire diamond.

  ‘Try it on,’ he ordered.

  ‘No way,’ she said flatly. ‘I may be the one with the dodgy memory, but it’s you who’s forgetting something. I’m supposed to say yes, Alasdair, before you buy me a ring. Not only that,’ she added, ‘I’m sure that part of the reason you’re doing this is because Jack Spencer bought me the famous brooch.’

  Alasdair’s eyes narrowed to chips of ice. He flipped the box shut and thrust it in his pocket. ‘You’re entitled to think what you please. But I bought the ring in good faith, Kate, because I thought we had something good together. Our minds have been in tune from the beginning. Intellectually we have a lot more in common than most people, plus blazingly good sex. People get married with a lot less reason to succeed than that—’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ she interrupted. ‘Marriage?’

  ‘It usually follows on from getting engaged,’ he said, the hint of Scots very pronounced. ‘But in the circumstances I can only apologise for taking too much for granted. Again.’

  Kate looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You know. Alasdair, I’m pretty certain that if I’d still been full of the old slavering puppy love when we met up again none of this would ever have happened. But straight on top of your rejection by what’s-her-name—’

  ‘Amy.’

  ‘Right. Amy. She gave your ego the first knock, then it took another when my welcome was a bit lukewarm.’

  ‘It was hot enough—eventually—when I took you to bed,’ he reminded her angrily.

  ‘No doubt about it,’ she agreed. ‘I had no idea sex could be like that.’

  His face set. ‘I thought we were making love.’

  ‘Whatever it was, it was wonderful, Alasdair.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Strange, really. Even when my memory was on the blink I knew you were connected to me in some way the moment you came through the door. I couldn’t put a name to your face, but even though everyone else knew you were my fiancé I couldn’t quite believe it. I wanted to. I liked being engaged to you—’

  ‘Then why the hell,’ he said with sudden violence, ‘won’t you accept my ring?’

  ‘The same reason as before, Alasdair. I’m not in love with you any more.’

  He sprang up to lean over her, imprisoning her with his hands on the arms of the chair either side of her. ‘I could make you love me—’

  ‘You can’t make people fall in love with you,’ She smiled bleakly. ‘I tried that myself, remember? It doesn’t work.’

  ‘Are you telling me you feel nothing at all for me?’ he demanded.

  ‘Of course not. I like you enormously, and physically you’re the only man I’ve ever responded to—’

  ‘But you can’t face commitment to me?’

  ‘No, Alasdair, I can’t. Nor,’ she added, ‘will your life be ruined because I’ve turned you down. Will you please move away? You’re crowding me.’

  He straightened, every line of his body stiff with offence, and turned away to stare blindly through the window. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘We let people know we’re not engaged after all.’

  ‘And what reason do we give?’ He breathed in deeply. ‘I know exactly what everyone will assume.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Alasdair turned, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Think, Kate. Use that under-extended brainpower of yours for a change.’

  She stared at him resentfully, then enlightenment dawned. ‘Oh, I see. They’ll think that you took one look at the new, unappealing me and ran for your life. Though why you hadn’t done so already, when I looked far worse, will be a bit hard to explain.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ll have to think of something else. Nothing for it— I’ll just have to jilt you.’

  ‘And who’s going to believe that?’ he said scornfully.

  ‘My, my, put your ego away.’ she mocked, then looked down at her clasped hands. ‘There is a reason I could give. But you may not like it.’

  ‘I don’t like any of this,’ he said heavily. ‘But go on.’

  ‘My memory is doing reasonably well, but I remember nothing about the crash. Only what happened before it. My phone rang. Was it you?’

&nbs
p; Alasdair was suddenly very still. ‘I did ring you, yes,’ he said tonelessly. ‘Time was getting on, and I was anxious. It was such a filthy night I wanted to know you’d arrived home safely. It was around midnight.’

  ‘I thought so.’ she said, almost inaudibly, then raised her head to look at him. ‘The phone had fallen on the floor of the car. When I reached for it I lost control of the wheel. That’s the last thing I remember.’

  He stood very still, his eyes locked with hers. ‘So I’m to blame,’ he said at last.

  She shook her head. ‘No, you’re not, Alasdair. It was an accident.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘But if I hadn’t rung at the wrong moment it wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘No one else knows that. But if you prefer me to use that as a reason for ending our fictitious engagement I can. I can be mean and horrible and say I can’t forgive you for it.’ She smiled at him. ‘Though until I saw your reaction to my hair I was going to suggest a passionate relationship of some kind, since we’re so compatible in bed.’

  He stared at her in disbelief. ‘You mean the occasional session in the sack whenever your free time coincides with mine? Thank you so much. I’ve never proposed marriage to anyone before—’

  ‘You haven’t now,’ Kate pointed out.

  Alasdair paused. ‘A mistake I’ll rectify right now. Will you marry me, Katharine Dysart?’

  ‘Thank you for asking, but no, Alasdair Drummond, I won’t.’ She smiled crookedly. ‘If ever I do have a husband I’d prefer someone who didn’t go pale at the sight of me.’

  ‘That was just shock! It won’t happen again.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Kate. ‘It won’t. I’m going home tomorrow, so you don’t have to visit me any more.’

  Alasdair’s hands clenched into fists. ‘I didn’t have to visit you any other time. Can’t you get it through your head that I was out of my mind with anxiety, Kate?’

  ‘I know you were. Because you suspected you were to blame.’ She patted one of his fists. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry about it any more. I’ll soon be fighting fit, and back in Foychurch with my little darlings.’

  ‘A prospect infinitely preferable to marriage with me,’ said Alasdair bitterly.