An Innocent Affair. KIM LAWRENCE

an emotion Hope was accustomed to and it made her feel awkward. His keen eyes were missing no details of her ravaged face. ‘It looks worse than it is.’ She spoke self-consciously.

      Though, spectacular and painful, the bruising which covered most of the left side of her body would leave no lasting damage. She wasn’t vain, but she wanted him to see her at her best, which in all modesty she knew was a pretty good best. Instead she looked like something out of a horror film. Sod’s law! she thought fatalistically.

      ‘I wouldn’t have thought it was in your best interests to admit that.’

      Confusion settled on her face. Her brain still felt a bit like cotton wool. Had she missed a complete segment of conversation here? What did he mean? Or was he implying she ought to enjoy being a patient? If that was so she could swiftly disillusion him on that score!

      ‘Don’t worry.’ He forestalled her reply. ‘I didn’t come here to discuss that.’

      ‘Discuss—?’

      He silenced her with an imperative hand. ‘I understand your position completely.’

      I wish I did! Hope’s confusion deepened; this grave comment didn’t have the ring of sympathetic empathy to it.

      ‘I wanted to see for myself how you are. There are no ulterior motives, Hope. I hope you understand that.’

      Hope managed to keep her expression neutral, but it took a phenomenal effort. The minute she’d opened her eyes and seen him standing there she’d known—and it seemed he did too. The hazy dream-like recollections of the time immediately following the accident probably told only part of the story. God knows what I did, she thought, humiliation washing over her. God knows what I said.

      ‘I didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings.’

      Hope cleared her throat, which still felt a little raw after the anaesthetic. ‘I appreciate that,’ she said. His clinical regard sharpened, grew less impersonal as he absorbed the husky catch in her voice. Hope didn’t flinch from his regard and he was the first to look away. She was glad. I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, she decided rebelliously. Falling in love was no crime, even when the recipient of those feelings was as reluctant as Alex obviously was.

      Privately she thought there was a big difference between blunt and brutal. What does he think? she wondered. That I’m going to fling myself at him and declare my undying passion? It hurt to know he wasn’t prepared to risk it.

      He hadn’t even said goodbye… The sound of her mother’s voice pulled her out of her gloomy reverie.

      ‘I’ll take them along to the nurses’ station, shall I?’ Beth Lacey repeated, with an expression of regret.

      Hope wasn’t left alone long before her brother-in-law put his head around the door; the rest of his lean body swiftly followed suit.

      ‘All set, then?’

      ‘Thankfully, yes.’

      ‘You’re a terrible patient.’

      ‘Says you,’ she replied disrespectfully.

      ‘Seen Alex lately?’

      Hope stiffened at this seemingly casual question. ‘Why should I have seen Alex?’

      Adam flicked her a curious but not unkind look. ‘You were screaming at the top of your lungs for him when you came out of the anaesthetic.’

      ‘There are a lot of Alexes in the world.’ Is there no escape from the man? I can’t even be unconscious in peace!

      ‘Thousands.’

      ‘If you mention this to anyone I’ll…’ People did things that were totally out of character when under the influence—bizarre things. Things that had no significance. Her mental protestations offered little comfort.

      ‘Don’t worry, it’s covered by patient confidentiality.’ Adam gave his stethoscope a casual twirl.

      ‘By anyone I especially mean Anna.’

      Adam grinned, but didn’t respond to this challenge. ‘Duty calls,’ he said, moving purposefully towards the door. ‘Good man, Alex Matheson. I like him.’

      If I wasn’t stuck in this damned thing, she thought, banging the sides of her wheelchair, I wouldn’t let him get away with that. Damn that man, she fumed, and it wasn’t Adam she was referring to.

      ‘We’ll postpone the trip.’

      Hope wheeled around awkwardly on the crutches. ‘Don’t you dare!’ Her parents had been planning their world cruise for over a year now, and they’d been talking about it for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t bear being the cause of them missing their dream holiday. ‘I’m quite capable of coping.’

      ‘I’d only worry about you, dear. If Anna didn’t have her hands full with the babies you could go there…’

      ‘I don’t need anyone to look after me. I’ve only got a plaster on my leg, Mum.’ It was frustrating to know she was fighting a losing battle. Once her mother made up her mind there was no unmaking it. She silently cursed overdeveloped maternal instincts.

      ‘There’s the door,’ Beth said, levering herself up from her armchair at the sound of a strident peal on the doorbell. It occurred to Hope, not for the first time in the past two weeks, that for once her mother was looking her age—she needed this holiday; she worked far too hard.

      ‘I’ll get it,’ Hope responded, gritting her teeth in a determined fashion as she did a neat three-point turn to get through the doorway. She balanced on one leg to open the front door before clutching once more at her crutches. ‘It’s you.’ She immediately flushed under the ironic stare she received in return. Of all the stupid things to say!

      ‘You’re looking well.’ The purple bruises that had decorated one side of her face, and other areas not on public display, had faded to pale yellow patches in the two weeks since the accident. His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the visible evidence of her fall.

      His deep voice did the most insane things to her metabolism. ‘I’m fine, just fine. Won’t you come in?’ She’d forgotten just how intimidating his physical presence could be. Her eyes ran furtively over the strong, muscular lines of his shoulders and she cleared her throat noisily. ‘Please come in. Nice weather, lovely day…’ She managed to stop the irritating flow of banalities.

      ‘If it’s not inconvenient.’ The only reaction he made to the parrot-like style of her conversation was a slight inclination of one darkly defined eyebrow.

      Nice weather, lovely day—inwardly she groaned as she felt the rivulets of sweat trickle down her spine. It had only stopped snowing half an hour ago, and the driving conditions were appalling. What’s wrong with me? Pull yourself together, girl!

      ‘I know you don’t want to see me.’ His dark, sombre face was impossible to read.

      ‘I don’t?’ She was treading warily. There was transference if ever she’d heard it, she thought sourly. It must be something urgent to make him voluntarily seek her out. He was probably going to warn her not to stalk him!

      ‘But my lawyer couldn’t contact your agent today, and there are a few details that need to be sorted out without delay…’

      She was totally at sea. ‘Jonathan?’

      ‘Jonathan Harkness is your agent, isn’t he?’ Impatience was evident in his tone.

      ‘Well, I’ve only got one.’ And sometimes he was more trouble than he was worth. Jonathan’s agenda for her career and her own could diverge pretty dramatically at times.

      ‘I know you don’t want to get involved personally, but—’

      ‘Can we just stop there?’ she interrupted. ‘It’s not very comfortable for me standing for too long.’ She glanced pointedly