‘Are you a nurse?’
‘No, that’s just basic first aid. I should ring for an ambulance now.’
‘Don’t need an ambulance, don’t need medical attention. I got a knock on my head. It’s no big deal.’
‘Are you a doctor?’
‘You’re cheeky,’ he sighed.
‘Look, I’m going to phone the nearest neighbour for advice...she’s a retired doctor. Please try and stay awake.’ Dr Beresford, a keen craftswoman whom she had often met in Cathy’s shop, would tell her whether or not she should call the emergency services to attend to her uninvited guest, although on such a night possibly only a tractor or a snowplough would manage to get up the road.
Moving out to the hall, she dug out her mobile phone to ring the woman.
Dr Beresford cut through her apologies for disturbing her. ‘A walker?’ she prompted in astonishment.
‘Yes... I thought it was crazy in this weather too. He’s hit his head and has a bump on the back of it but no other injuries. I’m trying to warm him up and I’ll give him tea.’
‘No stimulants,’ the doctor warned her. ‘Does he seem confused?’
‘No. Aside of a headache he seems all right but he’s pretty shaky on his feet.’
‘If he’s not seriously hurt it’s unlikely that the emergency services would fly in to pick him up. I know for a fact that they’re already dealing with a motorway pile-up this evening. But I don’t like leaving you alone with a strange man either. Possibly if I were to inform the police or the mountain rescue teamtheywould make the effort to walk up from—’
‘That’s not necessary,’ Lara declared. ‘He’s not the creepy type...and I would know.’
‘Well, that’s good. I wish I could say that I could call over tomorrow but with Cathy’s road in such a state—’
‘I’ll be fine. We’ve got heat and food. Should I be keeping him awake?’
Having received her instructions, Lara finished the call and walked back into the spacious kitchen and living area. Her uninvited visitor had fallen asleep while the dogs snored at his feet. She decided to leave him in peace until she had made a pot of tea and some ham sandwiches. While the kettle boiled, she studied him. He really was quite ridiculously handsome, she mused, no longer embarrassed by her previous reaction to him. She was convinced that any woman would have found herself staring just a little too long at such perfect masculine features. Entirely symmetrical features, eyelashes long enough to trip on and a superbly shaped pale pink mouth set in an extensive black shadow of stubble. His deep voice, the angular strength of his jaw and his sheer size lent him a ferociously masculine quality and yet even when he had flirted with her just a little there had been nothing to creep her out.
And nobody knew more about creepy men than Lara did. Her mother had had several live-in boyfriends who liked very young girls: men with sleazy eyes who tracked her every move once her skinny body began to develop petite curves, men who got too friendly when her mother was absent, men whose hands strayed where they shouldn’t, men who hovered in her bedroom doorway saying, ‘Just checking on you...’
With a shiver of recollection, Lara shot out of that last frightening memory and lifted the tray to carry it over to the coffee table. Leaning forward, she gave his shoulder a slight shake to wake him as gently as possible before sitting down again.
‘Dr Beresford said to only let you sleep for small stretches. I’ll wake you up every couple of hours to check that you’re all right.’
‘Oh, joy,’ he drawled softly.
‘Yes, I’m looking forward to a night without much sleep too,’ Lara countered gently, determined not to take any nonsense. ‘It’ll be rather like having a baby in the house.’
Her visitor stared back at her in disbelief.
‘Do you take sugar and milk in your tea?’
‘Milk, yes...sugar, no. But I don’tdrinktea,’ he told her. ‘I only drink coffee... I think,’ he completed, less certainly, his voice trailing off as his brow furrowed as if something was confusing him.
‘But coffee is a stimulant and the doctor advised against that.’
‘Do we have to follow even the tiniest piece of medical advice?’
‘Yes,’ Lara confirmed. ‘As long as you’re my responsibility.’
‘I’m not sure I want to be anyone’s responsibility,’ he framed tautly.
He didn’t like being told no, didn’t like restrictions, was possibly even accustomed to his looks and charisma smoothing his path in life. Lara smiled and shrugged. She poured tea into a mug and set it close to him. ‘I made sandwiches. I don’t know if you’re hungry.’
He sipped the tea with a wince of distaste that he tried really hard to hide. He was arrogant but he had manners, she decided. She offered him the plate of sandwiches. He accepted one and she smiled again, thinking that an appetite was a healthy sign.