Joe laughed. ‘Ah, living on the edge. A turn-on, isn’t it?’
Charlie sighed and shut his eyes, letting his head flop back. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘OK, OK, no Carrie. But promise when the tests come back negative we’ll have a night on the town. Like the old days. You just need to get back on the horse, man. Find an outlet for all those pent-up tadpoles.’
Charlie opened his eyes. His friend was right. It was just the abstinence making him crazy. It wasn’t the memory of how good Carrie had felt, her softness pressed against him or her fiery response to his kisses. It had been a year of denying himself those base, natural male urges and throwing all of himself into his work to forget about Veronica and the divorce and offsetting the nagging worry that he might have contracted a terminal illness. A terminal illness with a really bad stigma.
‘You’ve got a deal.’ Charlie held out his hand and they shook on it.
Carrie was doing really well until lunchtime when the usual troop of teenagers interrupted her concentration. She’d ruthlessly clamped down on the memories that had played in her head all weekend like a projector reel stuck in a rut. She’d been powering through Charlie’s business activity statements, determined to cut her time at the clinic as short as possible. Her face burned every time her mind drifted to Friday night. How could she have allowed him such liberties?
She looked up and caught his furtive glance as he walked through the staffroom. Their eyes locked and suddenly she was back to Friday night, pinned against her door, his heat all around her, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth. Her breasts were tingling, her breath becoming thick and husky.
‘Carrie.’ He nodded.
‘Charlie.’ She nodded back.
Get a grip! She expelled a breath as he joined the others. Why? Why, oh, why was her body betraying her over this? Charlie Wentworth was out of her league. He’d practically run screaming from the room when the reality of Dana had intruded into their sexual bubble. He could never be a part of her life. Their lives. Their lives. Hers and Dana’s. Single mothers couldn’t afford the luxury of thinking only about themselves.
And since when had men even factored into her life? Since Rupert anyway? The last four years had been about Dana and building a career to support her daughter, to make her daughter proud. She hadn’t taken her eye off that ball once. Until Friday night. And now there was this whole other world out there. And it was lonely.
The phone rang and Carrie resolutely ignored it. Her concentration had been shot all afternoon and she had half an hour to go. It stopped ringing and she thanked Charlie silently. Angela had left a couple of hours ago and the responsibility of answering the phones fell to Charlie.
The door opened and Carrie braced herself for the impact of Charlie’s presence. He picked up the wall phone, held it out to her.
‘Your nanny’s on the line.’
Carrie rose quickly from her seat. Something must be wrong. Susie was not a panicker. Why hadn’t she rung her mobile? She flipped open her mobile to discover the battery was dead. Damn it. Had she been that distracted over the weekend that she’d forgotten to recharge it last night?
She took the receiver from him. Instantly she could hear Dana screaming in the background. ‘Susie?’
‘Carrie, I’m sorry to ring you at work, I tried your mobile but it kept saying it was switched off. Dana’s fallen and cracked her chin on the pot plant and I think it’s going to need stitching.’
For a crazy second Carrie’s heart stopped. Nothing, nothing had ever happened to Dana other than the odd bruise. She could hear her daughter’s distress and her maternal instinct roared into overdrive. ‘Is she OK? Did she hit her head? Was she knocked unconscious?’
Charlie heard the note of concern heighten Carrie’s voice and quirked an eyebrow at her.
‘No,’ Susie said reassuringly. ‘She’s fine. She’s just worked herself up because of the blood. And I’m afraid this is one situation where nanny kisses aren’t going to cut it.’
Blood? ‘Is it bleeding a lot?’ Carrie asked, trying not to let Dana’s crying or the image of her blood oozing out everywhere affect her.
Charlie walked towards her, concern in his grey gaze. She wanted to huddle into his chest and draw strength from his tall, lean frame. She wished she was at home. What the hell was she doing here with books that were a mess and a man who had rejected her?
She wanted to put her hand down the phone and drag her daughter to her breast. Assure herself immediately that Dana was really as OK as Susie seemed to think.
‘Not any more, but it did. The wound isn’t very big but it’s really gaping.’