spite of herself, though, she found she couldn’t leave the cloakroom without washing her hands and face, and brushing her hair with the brush Melissa kept in the cabinet for when the children needed quickly sprucing up. Looping her hair back into a ponytail that was now sleek and shiny, she quickly checked herself once more and then made her way to the kitchen.
Instant coffee would have to do. She reached for the jar she had bought herself on her last visit to the house two months before, when she had babysat the children over a weekend while Melissa and Greg had gone to Paris for their wedding anniversary. She had been too shattered coping with the children to bother with the coffee-maker, and she saw now the coffee hadn’t been used since. Melissa was the original earth-mother; ‘instant’ didn’t feature in her sister’s vocabulary. It made up the main content of hers.
She had just spooned a generous amount into two china mugs festooned with poppies when the telephone rang. Snatching up the kitchen phone, she said breathlessly, ‘Yes?’
‘Blossom? It’s Greg. She’s out of Theatre, and the consultant is happy with how things went. The appendix was on the point of bursting, so it’s as well he operated immediately. She’ll be in a few days, though. Something to do with her blood.’
‘Oh, Greg.’ Blossom found she had to sit down fairly quickly on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, her ears ringing. ‘Have you spoken to her? How is she feeling?’
‘She’s out of it, will be till morning, according to the staff. In spite of that I think I’d like to hang round a bit longer, if that’s OK with you? Can you cope with the kids?’
He sounded so lost and shaken, Blossom’s heart went out to him. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You stay as long as you want. The kids are fine and they’re all asleep. Have you eaten anything?’
‘Eaten?’ he repeated vaguely. ‘Oh, yes, I think so. Some sandwiches. Look, I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning.’ And he put the phone down. Typical Greg.
‘You OK? I heard the phone. Was it the hospital?’
The quiet voice from the kitchen doorway brought Blossom’s head up. Zak was standing there, his blue eyes narrowed. It was a totally inappropriate moment to register that he had to be one of the most handsome men she had ever set eyes on. She gulped, then said, ‘That was Greg. Melissa’s out of Theatre, and everything went well. She’s sleeping off the anaesthetic.’
He nodded. ‘Good. Now I’m going to ask you what you just asked Greg—have you eaten anything?’
She stared at him. ‘It’s been too hectic.’
He nodded again. ‘You look like death warmed up,’ he said bluntly. ‘You’re not going to faint on me, are you?’
He had a nerve. Adrenalin pumped a healthy dose of anger into her wilting limbs. She knew she looked awful, he needn’t rub it in. ‘I’m perfectly all right,’ she said coldly. ‘Thank you. And I have never fainted in my life.’
It was as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘Why don’t you go and have a bath while I order some food in?’ he said in a tone which made it more of an order than a suggestion. ‘I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m starving. What do you prefer—Indian, Chinese, Italian, Thai? My treat. I insist.’
He could have grown two heads from the way Blossom was staring at him. Talk about taking charge, she thought resentfully.
It took her a few seconds before she could say, ‘I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.’ She hoped he’d take the hint.
‘You’ll be perfectly safe.’ The smoky voice now held a definite thread of dark amusement. ‘I’m not about to take advantage of the situation, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
Blossom wondered what it was about ‘I don’t think so’ that he didn’t understand. Drawing on her limited store of patience, which the day with the children had seriously depleted, she slid off the stool, saying, ‘I didn’t think that for a moment.’
It was true, she hadn’t. Zak Hamilton looked like the sort of man who chose his women for the wow factor they’d present when seen out on his arm. Even when she had her glad rags on and was all made up she wouldn’t qualify. She just didn’t want to play the part of the needy recipient in his Good Samaritan scenario, that was all, not when he had made it clear she looked pretty dire to him. Even with the temptation of Thai food. She loved Thai cooking.
‘Good. What’s it to be, then? I rather favour Thai, but I am open to suggestions.’
She had a very good suggestion for him and it wasn’t anything to do with food. ‘Look, Mr Hamilton, I don’t want to appear rude…’ she said coolly, reminding herself yet again he was Greg’s boss and the owner of the firm to boot. ‘But I have got things to do. Now, if you’d like that coffee before you go?’
Cornflower-blue eyes held her dark brown ones. ‘You’re not the easiest of females to get on with, are you?’ he observed mildly. ‘Definitely a bit prickly round the edges.’
Actually, she could get on with absolutely everyone, everybody said so. ‘I’ll tell Greg you called by to see how Melissa was,’ she said icily. So now clear off, Mr Big-Boss Hamilton!
‘Actually, I didn’t.’ He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded and expression benign. ‘Call to see how Melissa was, that is.’
‘But you said that’s why you had come.’ Hadn’t he?
‘You asked me if I’d called round to see how things were, that’s slightly different.’ He looked at her from steady eyes.
Not in her book. It was exactly the same.
‘I didn’t realise your sister was in hospital; Greg merely mentioned his wife had been taken ill with stomach trouble to my secretary when he phoned this morning. I imagined she’d eaten something that had disagreed with her, something like that. I called round to make sure Greg remembered we have an important meeting in Watford tomorrow morning.’
Blossom glared at him. ‘My sister is lying in a hospital bed after an emergency operation, and you expect him to go with you to a meeting in Watford?’ Her voice had risen with each word. What was with this man? Had he no feelings at all?
He sighed. ‘I told you, I didn’t know the circumstances,’ he said with exaggerated patience. ‘Of course I don’t expect him to accompany me now. I wouldn’t dream of it, in fact.’
Slightly mollified, Blossom tipped boiling water into the two poppy mugs. ‘Milk and sugar?’ she asked him without looking at the doorway again.
‘I take mine black.’
She had rather thought he might. And he would take ten-mile runs as a matter of course before breakfast, and drive a snazzy, top-of-the-range sportscar, and always sleep in the buff on black linen sheets. This last thought was more than a little disconcerting. Blossom took her time adding sugar and milk to her own mug, so the pink in her cheeks had subsided a little when she handed Zak his coffee, making sure their hands didn’t touch.
‘Thanks.’ He straightened up from the wall with animal grace. Her tummy did a funny little kind of hop, skip and jump.
‘Would you like a biscuit or a piece of cake
