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Conscious of their surroundings, Meg tried to ignore the sizzle of awareness in her body. ‘We’re at work.’
‘No, we’re not. It’s our day off.’ His mouth was close to hers. ‘Stop thinking like that, Meg. Stop thinking this relationship is doomed before it starts.’
‘Right. Yes. I’m going to stop.’ Meg tried not to think about Hayden. Instead, she found herself thinking about her replacement, the gorgeous Georgina, waiting in the car, her hair smooth and sleek and her mouth a glossy red. Damn the woman. ‘I’m just going to nip to the staffroom and clean up. Then we can go and pick up Jamie and get your car.’
‘Come back to my house for the evening.’ Dino stroked her face with his fingers. ‘I’ll cook some pasta. We can open a bottle of wine.’
‘I have Jamie.’
‘He can eat my pasta. And I’ve bought a selection of DVDs for him.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Meg started to laugh. ‘You bought Ice Age?’
‘I bought every animated film that has been produced in the last ten years, just to be on the safe side. And a mountain of popcorn.’
‘Be careful. If you make it too comfortable, we’ll move in.’
Something flickered in Dino’s eyes and Meg took a step backwards, seriously shaken up by her own t
hought process. Why had she said that? What was she thinking? ‘I—I need to go and clean up. I’ll meet you in the car park.’ Without giving him time to answer, she shot into the staffroom and into the shower room.
She turned on the hot water and scrubbed her hands, soaping them to remove all traces of the dramatic rescue. Moving in? Since when had sex turned into moving in? Get a grip, Meg. It was all too fast.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to wipe out the picture of the three of them curled up on one of Dino’s huge, deep sofas, watching a movie.
He liked her, yes. And he liked Jamie. Otherwise why would he have bought an entire collection of movies he was never likely to watch on his own? And he genuinely seemed to find her attractive, even when she was dressed in her walking gear.
So why was she just waiting for it to fall apart?
Reminding herself that Dino wasn’t anything like Hayden, Meg dried her hands and opened the door of the shower room. A couple of nurses from the department were making tea and Melissa, the nurse from the observation unit, was in the middle of telling a story about some unfortunate girl whose trousers had split.
‘It would help if she ate less chocolate,’ she said bitchily, and then broke off as Meg appeared. ‘Oh—hi, Meg. Gosh, what have you been doing with your Sunday? You look a total wreck.’
A total wreck.
Angry, Meg pushed her hair away from her face. ‘I rescued a man from certain death from a cliff face,’ she said coldly. ‘What have you been doing with your Sunday, Melissa? Painting your nails?’
Flirting with doctors?
‘Apart from working, I’ve been planning what to wear for Dino Zinetti’s Christmas party.’ Melissa made herself a herbal tea and declined the offer of a biscuit from one of the other nurses. ‘No, thanks. My dress is so-o-o tight there’s barely room for me, certainly no room for a biscuit. I want to look like a woman, but not that much of a woman.’
Meg felt sick. Dino had invited Melissa to his party? A few friends, he’d said. Friends from work and members of the mountain rescue team. Since when had Melissa been a friend? He knew it was seeing Melissa that had upset her on the night of the ball.
Nina, one of the other nurses, helped herself to two biscuits. ‘So what are you wearing, Meg?’
Meg looked at her blankly. What was she wearing? What sort of a question was that? The party was two days away. Who started thinking about what to wear two days before an event? Dino had told her it was informal. She’d planned to tug open her wardrobe half an hour before she left the house and pick something.
‘Meg will wear jeans.’ Melissa fished her tea bag out of her mug. ‘Meg always wears jeans. And I don’t blame you.’ She smiled at Meg. ‘Jeans are always safe, aren’t they? And your legs are quite muscular.’
Muscular?
Meg had an overwhelming temptation to kick one of her muscular legs straight into Melissa’s glossy smile.
She wanted to say something witty that would wipe the smirk off the other girl’s face, but her mind was completely blank. No words came. Later, she knew, she’d think of something cutting. Later, when it was far too late to say anything, and then she’d spend weeks cursing herself for not thinking of the right thing to say at the right time. But for now there was nothing. So she simply muttered something non-specific and left the room, hating herself for letting them get to her.
Meg will wear jeans. Meg always wears jeans.
What was wrong with that?
