Angels In The Snow. Sarah Morgan

of her bag and attacked the ice, her fingers numb with cold as it showered over her hands. Scraping methodically, she wondered whether every Christmas was destined to be a romantic disaster for her.

      Last Christmas she’d been working and the nearest she’d got to romance had been when a ninety-year-old patient had assured her that if he’d been six decades younger he would have married her. The Christmas before that—well, she wasn’t even going to think about that one but this one didn’t promise to be too much better.

      The way the festive season was unfolding it looked as though she was going to need to stock up on comfort food.

      As she pulled her car keys from her pocket and turned to unlock the car, her feet slid from under her and she would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t caught her.

      ‘Careful. It’s icy.’ Daniel’s rough, masculine voice was next to her ear and she wrenched herself away from him.

      ‘Let me go, Dan.’ Terrified that she wasn’t going to be able to hold it together, Stella shrugged him off with as much dignity as she could and opened her car door. ‘I wish I could say it was nice bumping into you, but it wasn’t.’

      With a rough curse he turned her to face him, his hard, powerful body pressing her back against the cold metal of the car. ‘Why are you meeting men on the internet?’

      ‘Because I don’t meet any decent ones in real life!’ Her eyes clashed with his and then his hands slid into her hair and his mouth came down on hers.

      It was so sudden and unexpected that she had no time to react.

      The warmth of his mouth was such a contrast to the ice cold wind brushing her cheeks that she moaned in shock. And then she was responding to the seductive pressure of his kiss, her arms winding around his neck, her body trembling against his solid, masculine strength. His fingers tightened on her face, his kiss demanding and erotic as he created fire and flame with his mouth and tongue.

      It was an explosion of pure sensuality, a heated, unfaltering, indulgent expression of passion that neither of them was able to halt.

      And then the pub door opened behind them and the sound of laughter penetrated their sensual haze. Daniel tore his mouth from hers, swore fluently and stepped away from her. Raising his hands in a gesture of apology, he shook his head in disbelief, regret visible in his eyes. ‘Stella, I didn’t mean to—’

      ‘Oh, get away from me, Dan,’ she choked, sliding into the car and slamming the door, her body still reeling from that kiss. She didn’t know which was worse—the fact that he’d kissed her or that fact that he hadn’t meant to do it.

      Damn, damn, damn. She should have pushed him away and showed him that she wasn’t interested.

      Why hadn’t she done that?

      Why hadn’t she slapped his indecently handsome face?

      Her hands shaking, she started the engine, crunched the gears, set the wipers going, skidded the car and then swung onto the road, desperate to get away from him.

      Oh, God, she was going to have an accident if she carried on like this.

      The knowledge that it would probably be Daniel who would patch her up if she was taken to the emergency department was enough of an incentive to make her slow her speed.

      Fortunately the roads were deserted and she switched off the wipers that were moving snow across her windscreen and turned the heating as high as it would go.

      What a total disaster.

      The evening was supposed to have been the first step in her Daniel Recovery Programme, instead of which she’d slipped right back into her old habits. It was like surviving an earthquake only to be trapped in a lethal aftershock.

      It was all his fault. He was the one who had kissed her. Why couldn’t he have just left her alone? Or why hadn’t she slapped his face?

      Furious with herself and even more furious with him, Stella crunched the gears again, tears blurring her vision as she drove down the narrow, empty roads that led to Patrick’s barn.

      It had been stupid to come back to the Lake District again. It was all very well having grand ideas about dating other men but the truth was she didn’t want another man.

      She wanted Daniel. She always had. And it didn’t matter how unsuitable he was, she still wanted him. Patrick was right—love wasn’t something you could switch on and off.

      Her vision blurred and as she pulled into the courtyard of the barn, she almost crashed into the back of Patrick’s car.

      Slamming her brakes on just in time, the car slid to a halt a mere centimetre from his bumper and she switched off the engine and closed her eyes.

      What next?

      Her car door opened. ‘Are you trying to kill yourself or me?’ Patrick took one look at her frozen features and leaned across and undid her seat belt. ‘Come on. You look as though you need a drink.’

      ‘Actually, I don’t need a drink.’ Her teeth were chattering. ‘I just want to be by myself.’

      ‘No, you don’t.’ Patrick pulled her gently out of the car. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried that in your situation. It doesn’t work. Much better to have company when you’re feeling down.’

      ‘You’re the wrong company. I need to yell and say bad things about your brother.’

      ‘You can yell and say bad things about my brother. I promise not to defend him.’ Patrick locked her car and pushed her towards the stable. ‘We’ll use your place. Mrs Thornton is staying the night so there’s no guarantee of privacy in mine.’

      Stella pulled the keys to the stable out of her pocket and promptly dropped them.

      With a sigh, Patrick stooped and picked them up. ‘Thank goodness you’re not working in Resus tonight. I gather “Caring of Cumbria” wasn’t what you were hoping for. Was he ugly?’

      ‘I have no idea. He didn’t turn up.’ Stella pulled off her boots and dropped them by the door. ‘Unfortunately, Daniel did.’

      ‘Dan was at the pub?’ Patrick closed the door behind them. ‘I thought he had a date with the lawyer.’

      ‘Well, apparently he found the time to come and ruin my evening first.’ Stella filled the kettle, grateful for the cosy warmth of the stable. ‘Patrick, it’s really sweet of you to check up on me, but I’d like to be on my own.’

      Ignoring her, Patrick slid onto one of the tall stools by the breakfast bar. ‘So Daniel turned up—that’s interesting.’

      ‘It wasn’t interesting.’ Stella pulled a mug out of the cupboard. ‘It was inconvenient, thoughtless, annoying—since you’re determined not to let me have my tantrum on my own, do you want a coffee?’

      ‘Please. Black, no sugar. I need the caffeine—I have a feeling I’m going to be back at the hospital soon.’

      Stella made the coffee. ‘You work too hard.’

      ‘You sound like my ex-wife.’ Patrick gave a wry smile and lifted his hand in a gesture of apology. ‘Forget I said that—you’re nothing like my ex-wife.’

      ‘Do you hear from her?’

      ‘No, and the only reason I care is for the kids. I can’t believe she can just turn her back on her own children.’ His tone was hard. ‘Do you know what really gets to me? The fact that Alfie is OK about it. He saw so little of her that he’s hardly noticed her absence.’

      Stella handed him a mug. ‘He’s a sweet boy.’

      ‘I just hope all of this hasn’t put him off relationships. I worry that he’ll think marriage isn’t a good idea. Like Daniel.’

      ‘Alfie doesn’t seem to think that. It always amazes me how much children see. He’s pretty wise for ten