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.’