dropped her files and bag on a chair and then a deep voice behind her made her whirl round.
‘Ah—I’m sorry about that. It’s my car taking the space. I’m afraid I didn’t realise it was the only dry spot.’
A tall man with tousled dark hair who had been lounging against the side of the desk unravelled himself and stood up. His gaze swept slowly over Kerry’s drenched figure and the dripping tendrils of hair plastered against her face, down to the soggy remnants of her shoes. Beside him, a small boy of about four years old, with a snub nose and round wire-rimmed glasses, sat on the desk, drumming his heels against the drawers.
‘You’re certainly very wet,’ he murmured.
Tell me something I don’t know, thought Kerry caustically, but she managed to disguise her irritation.
‘You must be Denovan, Frank’s brother,’ she observed. ‘I didn’t think you’d be as early as this.’ She looked at the small boy, now making little indentations with a pencil on the top of the desk. ‘And this is?’
‘This is Archie, my son,’ explained Denovan. ‘I had to bring him up with me as his nursery school closes in the afternoon and his childminder isn’t well.’ He smiled down at the child, and suddenly his stern face was softer, gentler. ‘I couldn’t leave you behind, could I, sweetheart?’
There was no mistaking the resemblance between the two—Archie was a miniature version of the man. She’d never heard Frank mention that Denovan had a child, or indeed of him having a partner. What an odd family they were. Kerry wondered where Archie’s mother was—perhaps she had a high-powered job that meant she wasn’t around in the evening?
Denovan O’Mara was taller and broader than she’d thought he’d be—in fact, the television screen didn’t do him justice. He was one hot guy, over six feet of impressive bodywork and a strong no-nonsense face—firm lips, incredibly blue bright eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit with a crisply knotted tie. No wonder he’d fitted so easily into celebrity status. Central casting couldn’t have done better!
She caught an alarming glimpse of her own appearance in the mirror over the basin—hair hanging like rats’ tails over her face, slightly blurred eye make-up … for some reason it irked her that she looked such a wreck in front of Denovan O’Mara and his smooth appearance.
She opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small towel, drying her face and hands vigorously. ‘You must have set off quite early from London,’ she said.
‘I came straight from work this morning—I told you I’d come as soon as I could,’ he said. ‘I’ve only a very limited amount of time here, but I thought I’d pop into your surgery first to tell you I’d arrived.’ He shook her hand in a firm grip, his vivid blue eyes holding hers.
‘You’ll be pleased to hear that they’ve stabilised Frank—although he’s still in ICU,’ Kerry informed him, then added with slight emphasis to ensure that Denovan realised just how ill Frank was, ‘I think it was pretty touch-and-go last night.’
He nodded. ‘Sounds as if he was lucky to get out alive. But he’s a strong man—he’ll pull through, no doubt,’ he said in an offhand way. His glance swept over her keenly, noting the dark shadows under her eyes, the strain showing on her face. ‘This can’t be easy for you,’ he observed. ‘I suppose you’re trying to organise a locum and a hundred other things as well? You look a little bushed.’
For a ‘little bushed’ read a ‘complete wreck’, she thought wryly, blinking in some surprise at his understanding of the situation. She nodded briefly—there was something about his sympathetic tone that undermined her previous impression of a self-centred man. No wonder he held thousands of women viewers under his spell—not only looks, but reasonably charming when he wanted to be, as well. In fact, she could see that some women would find his type of looks quite sexy! But again, Frank knew his brother better than she did and she could quite believe his remarks that Denovan had an inflated idea of his own importance.
The small boy put his face close to his father’s. ‘I’m hungry,’ he pronounced. ‘I need a biscuit!’
‘You wait until we get to the pub where we’re going to stay then you can have lots to eat,’ his father promised.
Archie pulled his father’s ear. ‘I can’t wait.’ He raised his voice. ‘I’m very hungry!’
‘I don’t know if Daphne’s rung up the Pear Tree yet—your room probably won’t be ready,’ said Kerry.
‘I’ve had bad news on that front.’ Daphne came into the room, catching the end of the sentence. ‘The drains can’t cope with the extra water at the bottom of the hill and the pub’s completely flooded—they’ve had to close it and there’s nowhere else to stay for miles.’
‘Oh, no!’ Kerry looked in dismay first at Daphne and then at Denovan and Archie. ‘If the pub’s flooded, what about all the other buildings down there?’ And even more urgently, she thought worriedly, where was this man and his little boy going to stay?
‘I’m really hungry, Daddy,’ growled Archie, looking angrily at his father. ‘Please can I have a biscuit, quickly? You promised before!’
Kerry couldn’t help smiling at the little boy. She could imagine where he got his impatience from! ‘Daphne, you’ve met Frank’s brother already, I think?’
Daphne dimpled at Denovan, clearly smitten. ‘Only a few minutes ago. Look, why don’t I give Archie something nice to eat from the kitchen?’ She held out her hand to Archie. ‘You come with me, pet.’
Archie slid down from the desk and ran across the room to Daphne.
Denovan smiled wryly. ‘Looks like he’s got a friend there. It’s a nuisance about the hotel. I guess I’ll have to drive back to London after I’ve seen Frank this evening.’
Kerry had a spare room in her little cottage. It was filled with junk, but it did have a bed in it, and it would only be for one night after all. It was a nuisance, but for Archie’s sake she would have to offer the arrogant Denovan and his son a room for the night.
‘You’re very welcome to stay with me,’ she said, without much enthusiasm. ‘I’ve a sleeping bag that Archie could have, and …’ she looked doubtfully at Denovan’s large frame ‘… a single bed in my spare room—it might not be very comfortable.’
There was a surprising sweetness in the smile that lifted his stern face. It made him seem younger, more approachable.
‘That’s very kind. I don’t really feel like making the journey back tonight.’ His periwinkle eyes smiled engagingly at her. They were quite startling, those eyes of his. ‘I’m sorry to impose on you. I feel I’ve put you out enough, but I promise we’ll be very quiet guests.’
‘No, that’s fine, it’s no trouble.’
‘Well, we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow anyway, but I’m very grateful to have somewhere to sleep tonight!’
‘That’s OK,’ she said brusquely. She delved in her bag and brought out her house keys, tossing them to him. ‘You might as well go there now and get settled. There’s food in the fridge for you and Archie. The house is at the top of the hill beyond the surgery—you can’t miss it, it’s
