‘Not if I take it very slowly and carefully,’ he said. ‘Why don’t I drive it back and you follow me in my car? Then you can wait for the assistance guys at the cottage.’
The offer sounded genuine rather than grudging, and he wasn’t sneering; so it would be sensible to accept. It meant she could have a hot shower and dry clothes and a cup of tea. ‘Thank you. I accept.’ What she really wanted was a hug, but she was pretty sure that asking Ryan for a hug would be a step too far.
Without further comment, he handed her his car keys, then drove her hire car down the track.
Georgie followed him in his car—and discovered that Ryan listened to really loud rock music when he drove. He’d seemed so closed off that she’d expected him to drive in silence, or listen to podcasts on developments in paediatric medicine. But rock music... That was something they had in common, even though she preferred the poppier end of the spectrum. Maybe that would help them connect better and make the house-share easier.
Back at the cottage, she rang the assistance company to tell them she’d moved the car. When she came downstairs from the shower, Ryan was standing by the kettle.
‘Thank you for rescuing me,’ she said.
‘No bother. Go and sit by the fire and keep Truffle company. I’ll bring you a cup of tea. How do you like it?’
Just for a moment, she was really, really aware of the curve of his mouth. How sensual it was. How soft his lips looked. Then she shook herself, realising that he was waiting for an answer. An answer about tea, not about how she liked to be kissed. Oh, for pity’s sake. She needed to get a grip. Ryan McGregor was the last person she should be fantasising about. ‘Medium strength, a bit of milk and no sugar, please.’
‘Done. Sit yourself down.’
When Georgie sat on the sofa next to the fire, Truffle curled up by her feet, as if to try and warm her up a bit. Georgie reached down to stroke the top of the dog’s head, and the dog licked her hand.
This was so far from her life in London.
And, now she was safe and warming up again, she was beginning to think that maybe there was something good about the wilds of Scotland. Something that would help to finally heal the sore spots in her heart.
Ryan busied himself making two mugs of tea.
Georgie had looked so lost, so vulnerable, when she’d got out of the car. And he’d really had to stop himself from wrapping his arms round her, holding her close and telling her that everything would be OK.
He already knew that she hated pity.
Though this wasn’t pity. It was something else. Something he didn’t want to explore too closely, because he knew there could be no future in it. Georgie was going back to London in six months’ time; and in any case he wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship. That would be the quickest way to get his heart broken again—well, not that he had much of a heart, according to Zoe, because he hadn’t been sympathetic when her biological clock had started ticking unexpectedly. He’d reminded her that they were both focused on their careers; she’d countered that people could change their minds.
He couldn’t change his. He just couldn’t see himself as a father.
And deep down he thought there was something wrong with him. Something unlovable. OK, so his mum had only left him because she’d been knocked off her bicycle by a car and hadn’t recovered from the head injury; but after she’d died her parents had rejected him, and none of his foster parents had been prepared to work with him.
The only two real constants in his life were his best friend—Clara, whom he loved dearly, but as a sister rather than as a life partner—and Truffle.
He was quite happy as he was, just him and his dog. Nobody to desert him again. He wasn’t lonely, deep down. He wasn’t.
Ryan shook himself mentally and took Georgie’s mug of tea over to her.
‘Thanks. You’ve no idea how much I fantasised about this when I was standing in the rain, staring at the hole in my tyre,’ she said.
Not as much as he’d been fantasising about what her mouth might taste like.
He pushed the inappropriate thought away. ‘What’s the news on Jasmine?’ he asked. Work at least was a safe topic.
‘She’s holding her own. Hopefully she’ll start to turn a corner now. And thank you again for your help with the case.’
‘No problem.’ He paused. ‘You’re good with parents. Reassuring.’
‘I hope so.’ She grimaced. ‘Though I let them down with the diagnosis.’
‘This was rare—it’s only the second case I’ve seen,’ he said. ‘And you came straight to me and asked for help instead of putting your patient at risk.’
‘Of course I did. Our patients should always come first,’ she said. ‘So I’d always ask someone with more experience rather than trying to muddle through and getting it wrong.’
Ryan liked her attitude.
He liked her, too. And he was going to have to squash the feelings that were starting to seep through every time he looked at her.
Thankfully they were interrupted by the roadside assistance company, who’d brought a spare wheel and sorted out the car for her. By the time she came back in, he’d got his wayward feelings firmly back under control and compartmentalised everything. And now life was just how he liked it: with no complications.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE NEXT MORNING, Georgie made coffee and bacon sandwiches for breakfast, to thank Ryan for rescuing her the previous evening.
‘I hope my dog hasn’t been pestering you,’ Ryan said, eyeing the Labrador sternly.
She had, but Georgie didn’t want to drop the dog in it. ‘I hope it was all right to give her a tiny bit
