Colour stained her cheeks. ‘James, I…’
Too far. Too fast. He knew he needed to reassure her. ‘So, yes, Charlotte, I’d like to kiss you. Properly. Except w’re Ein your office, and I know you’d hate it if anyone came in and caught us.’
She nodded.
‘And that is the reason why I’m not planning to kiss you right this second.’ His gaze held hers. ‘Though rest assured that I’m going to kiss you properly. When you’re ready and when it’s the right time.’
He knew he’d said the right thing when she stopped holding her breath.
And he also knew that he needed to bring the subject back to work, so she’d believe that he was sincere about not rushing her. ‘Now stop talking, close your eyes and open your mouth, because I’m due in Theatre in five minutes and I haven’t got time to mess about.’
As he’d hoped, the mention of work calmed her down, and she followed his instructions. He opened the box, withdrew the chocolate and slid it into her mouth.
Her eyes opened and she stared at him. As she ate the chocolate, the wariness in her face melted. ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ she said when she’d finished.
‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘Did you like it?’
She nodded.
‘It’s called “having fun”,’ he said softly. ‘Work’s important. But it’s also important to play.’ He brushed his mouth lightly against hers, the way he usually did after lunch. ‘I’m off to Theatre. See you later.’
Charlotte watched him leave, pressing her fingertips against her mouth as she remembered what he said—and wondering.
What would it be like when James Alexander kissed her properly?
‘You know,’ Steffie said thoughtfully on Monday morning, ‘I haven’t seen you this smiley and relaxed before. A proper smile that goes all the way through you.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Charlotte said. ‘Course you have.’
‘Hmm.’ Steffie didn’t sound convinced. ‘Well, there’s something different about you. You seem…happier.’
Because she and James were—well, not seeing each other officially, but they were more than just friends.
Not that she was ready yet to admit it to anyone else.
‘I enjoy my job, I love working with you lot, and the centre’s about to open officially. Of course I’m happy,’ Charlotte said.
Though Steffie had a point. She could feel herself smiling more often. And she knew why: simply because James was around. There was something about him that made her want to smile. For all the right reasons.
On Tuesday afternoon, James said to Charlotte, ‘So you’re not in tomorrow.’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘Actually, the hospital trust has been really good. They’ve let me reschedule my hours and my patients don’t miss out because my afternoon clinics start half an hour earlier and last for an hour longer, I do my ward rounds an hour later and then I do my admin.’ She looked levelly at him. ‘Knowing the hospital grapevine, I imagine you’ve already heard what I do on Wednesdays.’
‘Something to do with a rape crisis centre.’
‘Advice and counselling. I’ve been really lucky because Nick’s letting me use a room at his practice. In return I do the odd heart health session in their well-woman clinic, and I’ve said if they want me to check anyone out while I’m there, that’s absolutely fine.’
‘That’s pretty selfless of you.’
‘It’s the point of medicine,’ Charlotte said. ‘Giving something back and making people feel better.’
‘True.’
‘And I want to make a difference.’
He nodded. ‘Well, obviously I’m not the right person to man a helpline or what have you—but if there’s anything I can do to help, give me a shout.’
‘Actually, I was thinking about sorting out a promise auction or something like that to raise funds—then we can train volunteers on the helpline and pay counsellors. The centre’s all about being a free service.’
‘Count me in to donate a promise, then. And if you want a hand organising it, I’m pretty good at that.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re good at organising?’
‘My parents excel at organisation—and I think it’s in my genes as well,’ he said with a shrug.
‘So you’d help with the centre?’
‘I respect what you’re doing and I respect you so, yes, I’d like to help.’
She gave him the sweetest smile. ‘Thank you. I might just take you up on that.’
On Wednesday, Charlotte took a call that broke her heart. A young girl who’d gone through exactly the same thing that she had. Though Libby hadn’t reported it at the time, thinking nobody would believe her, she’d been feeling worse and worse and worse. And she’d been at the point of doing something stupid when she’d seen an article about the centre.
Charlotte stayed talking to her for a long, long time. Listened. Made no judgements, just gave suggestions and advice about how to start the long journey back to feeling safe again.
And when she’d persuaded Libby to come and see a counsellor, she knew that the young girl wasn’t the only one who’d taken a step on the road to recovery. She, too, was starting to heal properly.
On Friday, James perched on Charlotte’s desk with a broad smile. ‘I’ve had the most brilliant idea.’
‘What sort of brilliant idea?’
‘You know the quiz nights—we have ten teams, right?’
‘Ye-es.’
‘Well, I was thinking, maybe we could do something a bit different. Something I did in London that made a ton of money for the hospital.’
‘Flashy stuff?’ she asked wryly.
He sighed. ‘Yes, I like glitz and glamour—and there’s nothing wrong with liking a bit of flashy stuff, before you start nagging—but I also enjoy taking the chance to raise the profile of a good cause. I used to help raise a lot of money for the hospital in London, and I’d like to do that here, too.’
She could see that he was being sincere. ‘So what did you have in mind?’
‘A ball—say, in a month from now. We can raise money from ticket sales, and we’ll run a tombola on the night.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘It’ll be a ball with a difference—dinner, and then a dance competition. Ten pairs of dancers—one from each department, and the winning couple can choose where the money goes.’
As he spoke, Charlotte grew colder and colder. ‘A dance.’
‘What do you think? Will you help me organise it?’
Her last date had been a dance. With Michael. A night that had turned out to be the worst night of her life.
But she really didn’t want to tell James about that. She didn’t want to see pity or revulsion on his face. This thing between them was so new, so fragile, she didn’t want to spoil that. Besides, she would be organising a ball, not actually dancing, so she could cope with it. And maybe facing it would help her overcome the last few hurdles.
‘Charlotte?’ he asked.
‘Sorry, wool-gathering.’ She nodded. ‘All right, I’ll help you.’
‘Good. So w’re Eon the same team this time.’
‘I suppose so.’
He smiled. ‘Excellent. So, do you know how to dance?’
‘Dance?’ He couldn’t be serious. A sick feeling rose in her stomach.
‘It’s a ball. People dance at them.’
‘But I won’t have time to dance. I’m helping you organise it.’
‘Mmm-hmm, but we can hand over the reins for five minutes while we dance—because I think we should be one of the teams. A cardio-surgery mix.’
He planned to dance…with her? Sickness turned to panic. ‘No. Look, James, I don’t dance.’
He spread his hands. ‘Don’t worry, I can teach you—I spent too much of my misspent youth dancing.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Being flashy, you might say.’
She dug her nails into her palms underneath her desk, out of his sight. ‘I can’t do it, James.’
He really hadn’t expected her
to balk at this. Or to say she wasn’t capable of doing something. The woman he’d come to know was quiet, yes, but she was hard-working and she didn’t mess about. She simply got things done. ‘Of course you can do it—besides, you’re not on your own. W’re Ea team. W’re Ea good team at work, aren’t we?’
‘Ye-es.’
‘So we’ll be a good dance team, too. Trust me.’
‘You’re a doctor?’ she capped.
He smiled, thinking all had to be well if she could be sassy with him.
‘Something like that. So, where are we going to practise—your place or mine?’
‘I…’
Why did she look so worried? ‘Charlotte, I promise not to stand on your toes and make you hobble round the hospital for the next month.’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘If we do this—and I mean if—w’re Enot doing anything flashy like a tango.’
‘No, of course not. I was thinking something like a waltz—especially as there was that Italian research showing that the waltz is one of the best ways to help regain cardiac function after a heart attack.’
Now that he’d put the subject back to medicine, she seemed to relax. ‘The one where people who danced made better progress than those on an exercise bike?’
‘They had a lower heart rate, higher lung capacity, and they also had more fun so were more likely to stick to the regime. And we can use that in the PR.’
‘PR?’ she queried.
‘We tell the press what w’re Edoing, they’ll trail it in the local paper, and we’ll get local businesses to offer prizes for the tombola. And we can double up when they contact us by asking them to donate something for your promise auction, too.’
‘You don’t hang about when you make a decision, do you?’
‘No. Right—first lesson this evening, your place?’
‘I…but you haven’t organised it yet.’
He smiled. ‘When I say I’ll do something, I do it.’
‘How are you going to book a band and food and what have you? It’s summer, James. Everywhere’s going to be booked up. You have to organise a ball months in advance—you’re never going to do it in this short a time.’
‘I like a challenge.’
The worry on her face seemed to deepen. James took a risk, squeezed her hand and let it go instantly. ‘People aren’t challenges, Charlotte. Tasks are. And I have contacts. I’ve done this sort of thing before, so it’s not as if I’m going in cold.’ Plus he could rope his parents in to help, if need be.
‘Oh.’ She looked a little less worried.
‘What time tonight?’
‘I…’
‘Twenty minutes, that’s all I’m asking,’ he said softly. ‘And that won’t take much out of your evening. It’ll still give you time to go and do whatever you normally do on a Friday night. Just tell me what time you want me to turn up—oh, and where you live.’
For a moment he thought she was going to back out. Then she nodded, still looking serious, and scribbled her address down on a piece of paper. ‘Half past six, then. Do you need directions?’
‘Thanks for the offer, but it won’t be a problem.’
‘Satnav, hmm?’
He smiled. ‘See you at half past six.’
At precisely six-thirty Charlotte’s doorbell rang. Trust James to be absolutely on time. She opened the door and discovered that he’d changed from his suit into jeans; somehow it made him feel less threatening, yet at the same time more dangerous. Touchable.
Though there was something else worrying her. ‘Did the paparazzi follow you here?’
‘No. They don’t do it all the time.’ He shrugged. ‘And, anyway, they’ve decided I must be on a health kick because I cycle practically everywhere, so at the moment I’m not very interesting.’
She pushed away the thought of how interested the press would be at the idea of James Alexander giving his colleague private dance lessons. ‘Come in. Can I get you a coffee or something cold?’
‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’
She frowned. ‘James, why are you whispering?’
‘Because you told me your cat is nervous of men with loud voices, and I don’t want to worry her.’ He produced a small ball with a bell in it. ‘I have to admit, I don’t know much about cats, but the woman in the pet shop says they like these.’
‘James, you really don’t have to buy my cat a present—but thank you.’ She led him into the living room. Pandora was sitting on the back of the sofa, her tail swishing; Charlotte picked up the cat and held her close. ‘Pandora, this is James. He’s a friend. It’s OK,’ she soothed, her voice calm and soft.
‘As I said, don’t know much about cats, but I’ll work on the same principle as dogs—you don’t crowd them and you let them come to check you out when they’re ready,’ James said.
She remembered what Melinda said about telling people’s characters through their reactions to animals. James was giving the cat space, which meant he was likely to give her space, too. When the muscles between her shoulder blades eased, she realised just how tense she’d been.
‘Now, are we going to do our routine to classical or pop?’
She grimaced. ‘Sorry, I really hadn’t even begun to think about this. I haven’t done this sort of thing.’ She’d made perfectly sure she was working on the night of the hospital ball, in the past, and people who’d wanted to go had been more than happy to exchange duties with her.
‘Then humour me on this. I think we’ll do classical.’
‘So are you planning to have a huge orchestra?’
‘A string quartet and a pop band,’ he explained. ‘I know a couple who owe me a favour, so it won’t be a problem booking them.’
‘I still can’t believe you’re going to organise this whole thing in less than a month.’
‘We are,’ he corrected. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll run the posters by you.’
He was planning to see her tomorrow?
‘I’ll call you,’ he amended, clearly reading the surprise in her face. ‘I’ll read it through to you if you’re busy.’
‘OK.’
‘Now, your first dance lesson. The waltz has just three steps—natural turn, reverse turn and change steps.’ He demonstrated them for her. ‘It’s just a matter of following the beat and following my lead. Don’t worry if you stand on my toes. I won’t break.’ He fished his mobile phone out of his pocket. ‘Can I put this on the mantelpiece? It has a music player.’
It was one of the latest and most exclusive mobile phones around. It was odd, Charlotte thought, that this incredibly rich guy who mixed with the rich and famous would be slumming it in her little terrace in a Cornish seaside town. Then again, he was also James Alexander, children’s heart surgeon, a man whose judgement she trusted at work. The only man she’d allowed to kiss her since Michael. So maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.
And then he manoeuvred her into the hold.
‘James, isn’t this a bit close?’
‘That’s the other reason I chose it. Because it means you’re going to be close to me,’ he said.
She dragged in a breath. ‘I…’
‘Charlotte, I’m not going to hurt you. Just dance with you. Relax,’ he said softly. ‘If I’m going too fast, we’ll skip the music and do just the steps, until you get the hang of it.’
‘Sorry.’ She almost—almost—told him about Michael, but at the last moment she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want James to look at her with pity or revulsion. So instead she concentrated on following his lead, trying not to stumble.
‘We’ll do one more track and then stop,’ James said.
She could still feel her heart racing, but he walked her through a three-minute waltz track, and this time it wasn’t quite as hard.
‘That’s enough for today,’ he said as the music stopped. He released one of her hands—but instead of taking a step backwards, he cupped her face. Bent his head to hers.
The fingers of her other hand were still tan
gled with his. And instead of pulling away from his kiss, she found herself responding.
And, to her mingled shock and delight, it was good.
When he broke the kiss, his pupils were huge and his colour had heightened. ‘Charlotte. I wasn’t expecting…’ He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.
And he was the one to step back. To give her space.
‘I said I’d take twenty minutes of your evening. Sorry, I’ve already gone past that. I’ll leave now and let you get on.’
He really wasn’t going to crowd her.
And she appreciated that. Enough to make a gesture of her own. ‘If you’re really not doing anything this evening, you can stay and have something to eat if you like. Nothing fancy, just baked salmon and new potatoes and salad.’
‘If you’re sure, I’d love that.’ He smiled at her. ‘Tell me where the nearest off-licence is, and I’ll go and get some wine to go with it.’
‘No need. I’ve got a couple of bottles in the rack; I can stick one in the fridge.’ She paused. ‘Did you cycle over?’
‘No, I drove. So maybe I’ll take a rain check on the wine.’ He gave her a naughty little boy grin. ‘Want to come and see my car?’
‘Your James Bond car?’ Something about the mischief in his eyes warmed her. ‘You were kidding me, weren’t you? It’s a complete rust-bucket.’
‘Come and see.’
She did.
And it wasn’t.
It really was a shiny, gleaming, silver Aston Martin.
‘James Bond.’ She bit her lip. ‘Are you sure you want to leave your car there?’
‘Apart from the fact this is hardly a rough area, it’s just a car. A box on four wheels.’
Er, no. It was a seriously expensive sports car, and you had to be on a waiting list to get one.
He gave her a sidelong look. ‘Or there’s another option.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’ll take you about thirty minutes to cook salmon and new potatoes, yes?’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 4 Page 41
