‘Well, this is a pretty good place to recover,’ he said softly, reaching across the table and removing the mug from her fingers. She was gripping it so hard he was afraid she might shatter the china. ‘It will work out, Helen. Trust me.’
She gave him a brave, lopsided smile. ‘Is that your professional judgement, Dr Hunter?’
‘Absolutely.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘And first thing tomorrow I’m going to sort out your recovery programme. But for now you need sleep.’
‘I’m not that great at sleep.’
‘You will be tonight,’ he assured her. ‘Mountain air does it for everyone. Go on up, you look shattered. You?
?re in the bedroom at the front.’
She frowned at him, clearly puzzled. ‘What do you mean, I’m in the bedroom at the front?’
‘I’ll take the spare room,’ Oliver said calmly, coming to an instant decision. There was no way he was leaving her. He decided that she needed distraction. ‘Or I can sleep with you in yours if you prefer.’
Just as he’d planned, the colour flooded back into her cheeks and she gave a shocked gasp. ‘Is that another professional suggestion?’
‘Absolutely not.’ Oliver gave her a sexy wink. ‘It was an extremely unprofessional suggestion.’
She gave a hesitant laugh, but her blue eyes were suddenly wary. ‘You’re staying here? Seriously?’
‘Didn’t Bry tell you?’ Oliver’s expression was innocent and he reassured himself that the slight deception was more than justified by the circumstances. ‘I’m having some work done on my house and I needed somewhere to live.’
‘Oh…’ She looked startled. ‘What work?’
‘I…er…roof,’ Oliver said, and then kicked himself. Only an idiot would have their roof done in the middle of a freezing January. He tensed, waiting for her to see through his feeble excuse, but Helen didn’t seem at all suspicious and he reminded himself that she was used to London. When did they last see real snow in London? She probably couldn’t begin to imagine what a Lake District winter could be like. He exhaled slowly. ‘So, actually, I’ll probably be here for most of January, too.’
‘What—living here?’ She frowned slightly and he rose to his feet and scooped up both mugs.
‘Sure.’ He turned his back on her and kept his tone casual. ‘What’s wrong with that? I won’t get in your way.’ Well, not much. ‘And I don’t suppose you’ll get in mine.’
He stacked the mugs in the dishwasher, pressed the rinse button and turned to face her, his expression neutral.
‘Right.’ Her smile faltered slightly, as if she wasn’t quite sure how she should be reacting. ‘I’m not sure which bedroom is Bryony’s…’
‘I’ll show you.’
He took her upstairs and pushed open a door. ‘This is it. You should be comfy in here. You know where the bathroom is. My room is across the landing and this…’ he flung open another door ‘…is Lizzie’s room. On second thoughts, maybe I’ll sleep in here.’ He studied the room thoughtfully and Helen burst into laughter.
‘You wouldn’t fit in the bed and somehow I can’t see you sleeping surrounded by pink.’
‘Pink has always been my favourite colour,’ Oliver said solemnly, and she leaned against the wall, still laughing.
‘Don’t tell me—you can’t get to sleep without a bedroom full of stuffed toys.’
Oliver decided that he’d endure any amount of pink and stuffed toys if it meant that he could see Helen laugh. For a brief moment her eyes sparkled, a sweet dimple appeared in her cheek and she looked so adorable that he caught his breath, pierced by a sudden need to kiss that soft mouth.
Desire shot through him and he struggled to keep it under control, reminding himself that this woman was seriously on the rebound.
Not a good prospect whichever way you looked at it. ‘Oliver?’ Her smile faltered. ‘You’re looking at me oddly.’
‘Sorry.’ He made a monumental effort to pull himself together. ‘Well, I hope you sleep well. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’ Her reply was soft. ‘And thank you for everything tonight.’
He frowned slightly. ‘I didn’t do anything.’
‘You got me through the second most difficult day of my life,’ she said simply, and then stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘And I’m very grateful.’