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‘Clothes?’
‘Yes, Logan,’ she snapped. ‘My clothes! They’re in a pile on the floor outside the bathroom door. Get a grip! Did you leave your brain behind at work?’
In all the years he’d known her, he’d never heard Evanna irritable before. She was the most tolerant, patient person he’d ever met but suddenly she was behaving as though he’d done something grievously wrong.
‘Evanna.’ He tried to keep his tone mild. Tried to sound indifferent. ‘There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’ve known you all my life.’
And he’d obviously been walking around with his eyes shut!
‘Well, that doesn’t mean I want to stand in front of you stark naked! My clothes, Logan! They’re in the bag by your feet. And don’t you dare ever breathe a word of this to anyone. If I am on the receiving end of a single knowing wink when I walk into the pub, you’ll be finding yourself a new practice nurse.’
Logan dutifully found the bag and handed it to her. She virtually dragged it from his hand and closed the bathroom door firmly in his face.
Logan stared at the wood. He could have told her that it didn’t make any difference, hiding behind a door or a towel. He could have told her that the image of her lush, naked body was now firmly fixed on his extremely over-heated brain. But he thought that in her current mood she just might hit him so he stayed silent and tensed slightly when she dragged open the door and faced him.
She was wearing skimpy shorts and an ancient T-shirt in a washed-out, faded blue and her long, damp hair was caught up in a ponytail.
She looked like the old Evanna. Except that she didn’t. Because now he knew.
He knew what was underneath the clothes.
‘I’m dressed,’ she said through gritted teeth, thrusting the damp towel into his hands, ‘so you can stop standing there, gawping.’
‘Evanna—’
‘Oh, grow up!’ Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and she scurried into Kirsty’s room, leaving Logan staring after her.
Aware that he needed to pull himself together, he drew in a deep breath and tried to think about something boring and inconsequential.
Anything that would take his mind off the vivid image of Evanna’s naked body. Since Catherine’s death he hadn’t thought about a woman—hadn’t wanted a woman.
Until now.
Frustrated and taken aback by the strength of his own reaction, he suddenly knew that he had to get out of the house before he did something that would embarrass both of them. This was Evanna. They were friends, for goodness’ sake. Somehow he had to erase that image from his mind and go back to the way he’d seen her previously—as a colleague and a lifelong friend. The best friend he had. Thoughts of sex had never intruded on their relationship before and he couldn’t let it now.
If she knew just how much she’d affected him, she’d feel awkward. Their entire relationship would change. They wouldn’t be able to work together properly. They.
Swearing softly, he retreated back downstairs, pushed open the door that connected his house to the surgery and walked back to his consulting room without any hope of being able to concentrate.
Evanna held her head in her hands and tried not to scream.
How could she have been so stupid?
Wasn’t it perfectly obvious that he’d come home the minute she’d chosen to take a shower in his bathroom? Wasn’t life always like that?
Tortured by embarrassment, Evanna resisted the temptation to hide under Kirsty’s cot and never come out again.
The little girl was wide awake, lying on her back, hugging her blanket and sucking her thumb, oblivious to the turmoil that Evanna was suffering.
Why hadn’t she at least remembered to take a towel into the bathroom with her?
What had possessed her to walk out of the bathroom, naked?
And why hadn’t he just done the gentlemanly thing and looked away? Why hadn’t he given her one of his cheeky smiles and covered his eyes?
It didn’t even help to tell herself that he’d seen her in a swimming costume a million times because never, when he’d seen her on the beach, had he ever reacted with such stunned amazement.
Did she really look that awful?
