‘Thank you—though I’m not looking for another partner, either,’ she said. ‘You’re safe with me, too.’
So why was it that he didn’t feel safe in the slightest? What was it about Georgina Jones and her clear green eyes that made him feel he needed to build an extra barrier around his heart, and build it fast?
He shook himself. ‘Well. Now that’s out of the way, perhaps we can be good—’ No, friends wasn’t the right term. ‘Housemates,’ he finished.
She lifted her mug of coffee. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
Something reckless in him made him say, ‘I have a better idea if we’re drinking to something.’ He went over to the cupboard and extracted a bottle and two glasses.
‘I’m afraid I’m not really a whisky drinker,’ she said when he brought them over to the table with a small jug of water.
‘This isn’t like the stuff you get in the supermarkets,’ he said. ‘It’s a properly matured single malt. Try a sip—and then try it with a little water. It’ll be smoother and let the subtle flavours come through.’
‘Trust you, you’re a doctor?’ she asked wryly.
‘Something like that.’ He poured a small amount of the amber liquid into the two glasses, handed one to her and clinked his glass against hers. ‘To housemates.’
‘To housemates,’ she echoed, and took a tiny sip.
When she grimaced, he added a little water to her glass. ‘Try it now.’
‘Oh—that’s very different,’ she said, looking surprised. ‘It’s quite nice. I can’t believe that a little bit of water makes that much difference.’
‘I won’t bore you with the full details, but one of my housemates at university was a chemist,’ Ryan told her. ‘He wrote his dissertation on the smokiness of whisky and what affects the flavour, and he tested out his theories on the rest of the house.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ she said. ‘So did you study in Edinburgh?’
‘Yes, and I trained here, too. I assume you went to London?’
‘Yes. I followed in my brother’s footsteps,’ she said. ‘Actually, I work with him now. Technically, he’s my boss.’
‘And he was OK about your job swap?’
‘We had a bit of a fight about it,’ she admitted. ‘He thought I was making a mistake.’
‘And you don’t?’
‘No. I needed a change,’ she said. ‘Though I do feel bad about deserting him.’
‘Clara’s an excellent doctor and she gets on well with everyone. She’ll do a great job,’ Ryan said.
‘I don’t mean professionally,’ she said. ‘I’m Joshua’s back-up for Hannah—his daughter,’ she clarified. ‘He’s a single dad. He does have a nanny, but I’m there if he needs me. He lives in the same apartment block as I do, a couple of floors up.’ She bit her lip. ‘I feel guilty for being here because I’ve deserted them. But if I’d stayed in London I would’ve gone crazy.’
Yeah. He’d been there. Truffle had got him through the worst bits. The loneliness and the misery and wondering why he couldn’t be the man his wife needed. But he’d come to terms with it now. He was who he was. And if that meant being alone, so be it. ‘Sometimes you need to do what’s right for you, even if it puts someone else out.’ Which was, at the end of the day, all Clara had done, too. ‘Your brother will forgive you. Since he worked with you, he must’ve seen how all the pity was getting you down.’
‘Maybe.’ She yawned, and blushed. ‘Sorry. It’s either the whisky or all this country air. And I’m on an early tomorrow. I’m off to bed.’
Ryan had to stifle a sudden picture of her curled up under the duvet, her hair spread over a pillow. His pillow.
For pity’s sake. He was too old to start suffering from insta-lust. And he was just going to ignore the physical attraction. Nothing was going to happen between them. She was a widow. Still grieving. She’d made it very clear that she wasn’t looking for a relationship. He didn’t want one, either: he had no intention of setting himself up to fail all over again.
So he’d just have to look a bit harder to find a house that would suit him and Truffle, and put a little bit of distance between himself and Georgie as soon as he could.
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOUR NEW HOUSEMATE’S a bit on the quiet side,’ Alistair, one of the junior doctors, said to Ryan on Tuesday morning when they grabbed a cup of coffee in the staff kitchen.
‘Georgina’s all right,’ Ryan said.
‘But she’s not Clara, is she? She’s not the life and soul of the party.’
‘It’s early days. Give her a bit of time to get used to us. Anyway, the most important thing is how she is with the children,’ Ryan reminded him.
‘Aye, and their parents,’ Alistair agreed.
It made Ryan think, though, when he was back in his office, wrestling with paperwork. Being the new person in the department wasn’t much fun. He hadn’t made anywhere near enough effort at making her welcome; he hadn’t even done the welcome dinner he’d promised Clara he’d sort out. Georgina had been really kind to him yesterday, when he’d opened up about his nightmare case. It was his turn to show some kindness and include her in the department a bit more. Maybe he could organise a team night out or something.
Georgina Jones had clearly had a rough year, being a widow. So he needed to do what Clara would do, and make his new colleague feel at home. He pushed aside the thought that it wasn’t
