The Doctor Meets Her Match. Annie Claydon

eye and he was already turning to see his next patient for the evening. ‘All we can do is our best.’

      She’d spent half the night considering that rationally, and the other half beating her head against an imaginary brick wall, which might just as well have been real from the way her head was throbbing this morning. The only thing that Abby was sure of was that she’d messed up somehow and that she had to put it right.

      Something had made him act that way. He was perfectly at liberty to walk out on her as a woman and she was at liberty to hate him for it. But if a little of the past had leaked through into her attitude towards Nick last night and made him refuse medical treatment he needed, that was unforgivable. Whatever Michael had said, she had to put it right.

      Not giving herself time to change her mind, Abby got out of the car, marched quickly up the front path and pressed the doorbell. No one answered. She was about to turn and walk away when a bump from inside the house told her that Nick hadn’t gone out. She thumbed the doorbell again, this time letting it ring insistently.

      ‘Okay! Give me a minute…’ The door was flung open and Nick froze.

      ‘Hello.’ She was expecting to see him this time, but that didn’t seem to lessen the shock all that much.

      ‘Hi… Abby.’ He had the presence of mind not to say it, but his eyes demanded an answer. What are you doing here?

      ‘I came to see how you were.’ Her hands were shaking but her lips were smiling. Not too much. Professional.

      ‘You didn’t need to. I’m fine. Thanks.’ Nick was leaning on the crutches she’d given him, his loose sweatpants stretched over the bulky brace. That was something. At least he hadn’t taken it off and thrown it away as soon as he’d got home.

      ‘I think we have a little unfinished business, Nick.’

      He pressed his lips together. ‘I know. I should have called you, it was unforgivable…’

      ‘Not that.’ Abby had spent some time convincing herself that the events of six months ago were all water under the bridge, and she wasn’t going to let Nick bring it up now. ‘I mean from last night. You left before I had a chance to finish…’ She stopped, flushing. Her voice sounded like a pathetic, childish whine, as if she was begging for his attention.

      Understanding flickered in his eyes. His warmth curled around her senses and just as Abby’s knees began to liquefy her defences clicked in. This man was not going to see her vulnerable. Not again.

      ‘I left because I was done. It was nothing to do with you.’

      Abby straightened herself. ‘What was it to do with?’

      ‘It’s none of your business, Abby…’ He seemed to be about to say more but stopped himself. ‘Look, as I said, it’s really good of you to come here and I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. But you’ll have to excuse me.’

      She wasn’t giving up without a fight. The door was closing, and there were only two things that Abby could think of to do. She wasn’t quite angry enough to punch him—not yet, anyway—so she stuck her foot in the doorway, bracing herself for the blow of the door as he tried to close it.

      It didn’t come. There was nothing wrong with Nick’s reflexes and he whipped the door back open before it hit her foot. ‘Abby…’ His gaze met hers, dark and full of pain, and concern for him grated across her nerve endings. There was no point in that. Nick wasn’t the type to accept sympathy. She faced him down, and saw a flare of what might have been tenderness.

      Wordlessly he stepped back from the doorway, turned, and made his way back along the hall, leaving the door open behind him. It wasn’t the most cordial of invitations she’d ever received but Abby followed him, closing the door behind her.

      ‘Can I get you some coffee?’ He had led her through to the kitchen, a large, bright room where the house had been extended at the back. Indicating that she should sit down at the sturdy wooden table, he swung across to the counter and reached up into a cupboard for a tin of coffee beans.

      ‘Thanks.’ Abby sat down. Making coffee and drinking it would take at least ten minutes. She could use that time.

      ‘Toast?’ The room smelled of fresh bread and there was a loaf, just out of the breadmaker, on the countertop.

      ‘Thanks. I didn’t have breakfast this morning.’ Fifteen minutes. Even better. Time enough to sort this out and then get out of there.

      Nick didn’t turn to face her and Abby sat down. Without a word, he ground the coffee beans and switched the coffee machine on, then shifted awkwardly across to cut the bread, leaning one of his crutches against the sink.

      ‘Here, let me help you.’

      ‘I can manage.’

      She dropped back down into her chair. He seemed to be managing not to look at her as well. It occurred to Abby that the offer of coffee hadn’t been intended as hospitality as much as an excuse not to sit down and talk to her.

      Finally he was done. He’d made tea for himself, and Abby jumped up to ferry the cups and plates to the table, while Nick lowered himself into a chair.

      ‘We don’t need to argue about this.’ He gave her a persuasive grin. ‘We could just agree to differ and enjoy our breakfast.’

      Nick’s charm didn’t work on her any more. Much. ‘Or we could talk about why I think it’s important that you take the medication you’ve been offered. I’m here to help you. As a friend, Nick.’ ‘Friends’ was dangerous territory. But being his doctor was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, and that was the only other excuse she had to be there.

      His lips twitched. ‘And you think that I’m not helping myself?’

      ‘From where I’m sitting, that’s how it looks.’ Abby took a sip of her coffee.

      ‘I guess it might.’ The words were almost a challenge.

      ‘It does, Nick. Pain control isn’t just about making things easier for you. With an injury like this, it’s important that you give your body a chance to heal. That means being able to sleep and move around gently. You need to get some of that swelling around your knee down as well.’

      ‘I’ve been putting ice packs on it. The swelling’s down from yesterday.’

      ‘That’s better than nothing. How much sleep did you get last night?’

      Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The dark hollows beneath his eyes and the stiffness of his movements attested to how little he’d slept and how much he was hurting right now. Abby could strike the suspicion of him having decided to self-medicate from the list of possibilities.

      ‘Did you take analgesics the last time you hurt your knee?’ Abby could have looked that up on the hospital’s computer system after he’d left, but she’d baulked at that.

      He nodded. Another couple of options to strike off the list. Whatever his reason was, it must be something that had happened in the four years, since his last injury. ‘Are you saying you had an adverse reaction to one of the drugs?’

      ‘No. I’m saying that I don’t want the drugs now.’

      ‘Nick, if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is, that’s fine. But you wouldn’t let me do my best for you last night, and I can tell you now that’s not the way that I work and it’s not the way the doctor I’ve referred you to works either.’ Abby could feel the colour rising in her cheeks, and checked herself.

      Something bloomed in his eyes, which looked suspiciously like respect, and Abby ignored the answering quiver in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t need Nick’s respect, she just needed him to see the logic of what she was trying to tell him.

      ‘Since you put it that way…’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment and then jerked his head up to face her, his stare daring her