futility of his life that was growing daily. Why couldn’t he have been the one who’d been left waiting on the sidewalk when the bomb had gone off? Why had it had to be Nicole—vibrant, beautiful and only twenty-nine? She would have been his wife…the mother of his children.
Stalking restlessly from his study, Adrian headed to the kitchen and prowled there, noting the spotlessly clean worktops, meticulously swept floor and newly laundered tea towels folded neatly over the rail of the Aga—all signs that Liadan was completely professional and adept at doing her job. The job he’d hired her to do. He should feel gratified, he told himself. When he’d first seen her he’d doubted she would last a day, never mind impress him with her efficiency. And now he would do well to remember that she was only his housekeeper, not someone he could get close to, whom he might confide in—no matter how beguiling that gentle voice or how kind that beautiful face.
Tapping his fingers against the tabletop, Adrian couldn’t resist another glance down at his watch. Where the hell was she? She’d left the house over three hours ago and it was now black as tar outside. Had she been waylaid by the press and somehow persuaded to talk? Or had she simply decided to leave and not come back? Hating the idea and despising himself for dreading such a possibility, he went in search of his coat and, with a surge of energy that had so far been denied him that day, decided to find Liadan and bring her safely back home.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN he came upon the old-fashioned Morris Minor tilted sideways into a ditch at the side of a winding unmade road not far from the house, Adrian knew immediately it was Liadan’s. Climbing quickly out of his Jeep, he ran to the vehicle, his heart pounding so heavily in his chest that it made the blood roar in his ears. As he wrenched open the passenger door and called her name she turned and stared at him, her blue eyes dazed yet startled. Then he saw the blood.
For one terrible, frozen moment Adrian felt physically sick. The blood had oozed from a gash high on her forehead into her beautiful red-gold hair and her skin was quite pale in the car, reflected light from the still blazing headlamps lighting up the interior with an almost supernatural glow.
‘I hit my head, I think.’ Her smile was lopsided and apologetic. Long training forcing him to take charge even though his heart was still banging like a drum, Adrian leaned towards her in a brisk, no-nonsense kind of way that belied the turmoil going on inside him.
‘I need to get you out of there and take you straight to Casualty. Here, reach over to me carefully. Take your time, don’t rush.’
She was a warm bundle of tweed coat, bright orange scarf and tumbling strawberry-blonde hair in his arms and if he was surprised at the feeling of protectiveness that washed over him, Adrian quickly squashed the sensation in order to do what he had to do.
‘I swerved to avoid a rabbit.’ Biting her lip, Liadan stared up at him, tears washing those perfectly blue eyes like a crystal fountain flowing over sapphires.
‘A rabbit?’ Adrian’s expression was almost painfully wry as he eased her gently into the passenger seat of the Jeep. Swiftly fastening her seat belt, he pushed back her hair from her eyes to examine the wound she’d sustained. The gash was about two inches long and appeared deep. He frowned into her upturned face, torn with the need to either scold her thoroughly or kiss her senseless. Again his feelings stole a march on him and he fought hard to get them under control, inwardly raging that right now nothing in his life yielded to his control. Not one damn thing, it seemed.
‘Here.’ He produced a spotless white handkerchief from his jeans pocket and gave it to Liadan. ‘Hold this to your head until we get to the hospital. It’s about ten miles away. Think you’ll be okay?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Her voice was raspy with a slight catch in it and Adrian’s dark gaze grew even more concerned.
‘Are you hurting?’ he demanded. ‘Feeling dizzy or sick?’
‘I’m not dizzy but it—it stings.’ Wincing, Liadan gingerly pressed the clean white handkerchief to her head. ‘You probably think I’m a terrible driver, don’t you? But I really thought I’d kill that rabbit.’
‘And what if you had killed yourself, huh? Did you think of that when you were trying to do your good deed for the day?’
He sounded furious, Liadan thought a little desperately as her head throbbed. It was fortunate that Adrian had come along when he had because God knew how long she would have been stranded there in rapidly deteriorating freezing temperatures if he hadn’t—but why did it have to be him who found her in such vulnerable circumstances? She tried to swallow but the ache in her throat was almost as painful as the gash she had sustained.
‘I didn’t think about trying to do a “good deed”. I acted completely instinctively. Would you like the death of an innocent creature on your conscience?’ She knew she sounded petulant but she couldn’t help herself. Why did he always have to be so angry with her?
Staring at her as if she’d slapped him, his mouth a foreboding grim line in his suddenly pale face, Adrian nodded at her briefly before slamming the door shut at her side. Jumping into the driver’s seat, he started the engine, engaged the gears and drove off past Liadan’s stranded car without so much as a backward glance, her unfortunately significant words echoing through his brain like the sound of a blacksmith’s hammer coming down hard on an anvil. Would you like the death of an innocent creature on your conscience? she’d asked. He’d felt so bloody desolate just then that if Liadan hadn’t been his passenger, Adrian would have willingly driven his own car into a ditch. Or failing a ditch, the nearest river…
When the door opened suddenly and Adrian strode into her room, Liadan pushed herself guiltily up into a sitting position against the plumped up pillows on the bed, trying to ignore the renewed stinging of her newly stitched wound. They’d spent nearly three hours at the hospital waiting for her to be seen and her wound attended to, and by the time they’d got home it had been nearly ten in the evening. She hadn’t been able to even think about cooking him the delicious meal she’d intended, and she guessed her recently bought ingredients were still in the back seat of her stranded car.
Her brows knitting anxiously together, she glanced up at Adrian’s tall, imperious figure with a little knot of trepidation settling uncomfortably beneath her ribs. He’d been faultlessly attentive and solicitous at the hospital, regularly checking that she was comfortable enough as they waited on hard red plastic chairs in the busy emergency department. Every now and then he’d stride across the shiny floor to the little reception window and enquire how much longer it would be before Liadan was attended to. All eyes had been drawn to him. He was an imposing-looking man at the best of times and he was even more so when he took charge on Liadan’s behalf. She didn’t know whether she’d been seen more quickly than she would otherwise have been because Adrian had simply worn the receptionist down with his constant badgering, or because he had the kind of aura about him that plainly commanded attention. In any case Liadan had been grateful to have him on her side.
Now, though, she couldn’t help fretting that he must think her a complete nuisance. He needed a housekeeper, not a patient. Knowing that thought must be uppermost in his mind, Liadan resolved to get straight back to her chores in the morning, throbbing head or no throbbing head. She was determined to let Adrian know she was no wilting flower, fading at the first little setback.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, examining her closely.
‘Fine.’ She gulped, then quickly glanced away lest he see she was lying, because she didn’t feel fine. She felt bloody awful if he wanted to know the truth.
‘Liar,’
