The Seduction Challenge Page 7

  She was out of the car before he’d switched off the engine, her shiny dark hair flying around her shoulders as she raced across the playground to the front door of the school.

  Joel was hot on her heels.

  The door opened and he recognised the headmistress, Isobel Hawker. She’d been headmistress of the First School for as long as anyone could remember, and she was his father’s patient.

  Her expression was concerned as she looked at Lucy. ‘Mrs Bishop—’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Lucy looked at her with trepidation and the headmistress sighed.

  ‘He’s in the classroom, but he’s—’

  ‘I can imagine how he is.’ Not waiting around for a discussion, Lucy sped off in the direction of the classroom, and Joel followed her, barely pausing to greet Mrs Hawker.

  Lucy stopped dead in the doorway of the classroom. There was just one child left in the room and Joel saw her eyes glisten with tears as she stared at the boy.

  He was sitting on a pile of cushions, his face pale and swollen from crying, his little shoulders slumped with exhaustion. The class teacher was stroking his back gently and she looked up with an expression of relief when she saw Lucy.

  ‘Sam, here’s Mummy now! There, I told you she’d come.’

  Sam lifted his head and his face crumpled.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart…’ Lucy ran across the room and dropped to her knees, gathering his shaking body against her chest and holding him tightly.

  Joel felt his throat close.

  Damn.

  What was going on?

  Why the hell was the child so upset?

  ‘I thought—I thought…’ The words came out in between sobs and Lucy tightened her grip on the child.

  ‘I know what you thought,’ she whispered, stroking Sam’s hair gently with her free hand. ‘And I’m so, so sorry I’m late.’

  ‘You promised you’d never be late.’

  Lucy squeezed her eyes tightly shut and Joel could almost feel her guilt. ‘I know I did, but—’

  ‘You said nothing would ever make you late.’ Sam lifted his head to look at her, and even across the room Joel read the accusation in his eyes.

  ‘I know that, sweetheart, but my car wouldn’t start.’

  Unable to bear the stricken look on Lucy’s face any longer, Joel stepped forward, squatting down next to them so that his eyes were level with Sam’s.

  He didn’t know what the hell he was going to say, but he knew he had to say something.

  ‘Hi, there, Sam, I’m Joel.’ He cleared his throat and paused. What he knew about little boys could be written on a postage stamp. Unless they were sick, of course. But he remembered reading somewhere that you should always be honest with children, and he took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t your mum’s fault. She couldn’t help being late. When the weather is cold, like it is at the moment, sometimes cars just don’t start. I’m going to take a look at your mummy’s car and see if I can mend it so that this doesn’t happen again.’

  Sam stared at him for a moment, his face still pale, then he turned back to Lucy. ‘It wouldn’t start?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Lucy nodded and Joel could see just how hard she was struggling not to give way to tears. She took a deep breath. ‘We need to go home, sweetheart, and we can talk more, later.’

  The little boy was trembling now. ‘I thought you weren’t coming. I thought I’d been bad and you didn’t want me any more…’

  Joel felt as though something heavy had landed in the middle of his chest.

  Why would any child think a thing like that?

  Lucy took another deep breath and caught the little boy by the shoulders, forcing him to look at her. ‘Sam, I want you to listen to me, because there’s something you need to understand.’ Despite the dampness of her dark lashes, her voice was firm and steady as she talked to her child. ‘There is nothing, nothing, you could do that would stop me wanting you.’

  ‘But Dad…’

  Lucy’s face lost all its colour and her eyes were tortured. ‘We’re not talking about your dad, Sam,’ she said, her voice shaking slightly as she spoke. ‘We’re talking about me. I know I was late today, but you should have known I would come. I always come.’

  Joel felt an unfamiliar feeling in the back of his throat and wondered what on earth was happening to him. Offhand he couldn’t remember a single occasion in his adult life when he’d felt like crying and here he was ready to bawl his eyes out over the anguish of a little boy he didn’t even know.

  What the hell had the guy done to them?

  Lucy lifted her head and looked at him, her arms still wrapped tightly around her child. ‘I need to get him home. Will—would you be able to give us a lift? I know I shouldn’t ask. You’ve done so much already.’ Her cheeks coloured slightly and she stammered slightly as she spoke, clearly embarrassed to be asking favours. ‘M-maybe I c-could call a taxi.’

  A taxi?

  Over his dead body.

  ‘I’ll give you a lift. It’s no problem, Lucy.’

  He had no intention of letting them out of his sight. Not until both of them were smiling again.

  He stood up and ran a hand over his jaw, stunned by his own reaction to her plight. Over the years he’d thought he’d experienced every emotion it was possible to feel for the opposite sex—except love, of course—but he’d never felt this overwhelming need to take care of a woman before.

  Until now.

  But with Lucy looking up at him with those huge green eyes, he suddenly understood why his brothers had been so ridiculously protective of her. There was something about her. A gentleness—a vulnerability—that made you want to hunt for a dragon just so that you could slay it.

  She scrambled to her feet and scooped Sam into her arms. Joel could see that there was no way she was going to let the boy go so he didn’t offer to help.

  He waited while she spoke to the teacher in a low voice and then followed close behind her as she walked back through the school and out to the car.

  Lucy sat with Sam on the back seat of the car, tormented with worry about what had happened and how pale he was.

  How could she have put him through that?

  For a whole year she’d been so careful, and now…

  Would it all happen again? The nightmares, the bedwetting—just when she’d thought things were improving.

  She reached for Sam’s hand and then she heard the wheeze.

  Oh, dear God, not that. Not now.

  ‘Try and calm down, Sam,’ she said, her voice shaking slightly as she soothed him. ‘I’m just going to give you your puffer.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Joel glanced into the rear-view mirror, his sharp eyes immediately taking in the situation as he looked at the boy. ‘He’s asthmatic?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lucy rummaged frantically in her bag for his inhaler, digging through loose pieces of paper, her purse, a hairbrush and assorted toys that had crept inside. ‘I can’t believe I’ve done this to him.’

  ‘I’ll pull over.’

  Joel stopped the car, released his seat belt and twisted round so that he could take a look at the child.

  Finally Lucy found the puffer buried deep in her bag and handed it to Sam with shaking hands.

  ‘I’m OK, Mum,’ the little boy mumbled, and Lucy was aware that Joel was watching the child carefully, counting his respirations and trying to judge just how serious it was.

  ‘We’ll get him back to the flat and check his peak flow,’ he said quietly, and she nodded, relieved that Joel was there.

  It had only taken a short acquaintance for her to realise what an exceptionally talented doctor he was. If Sam needed help then she was confident that Joel could give it.

  ‘Is he coming, too?’ Sam looked at Joel suspiciously as he started the engine again.

  ‘Dr Whittaker is going to give us a lift home and then check your breathing,’ Lucy explained, leaning forward to give Joel directions to her flat.

  ‘I know where you live,’
he said quietly, and in no time at all they arrived at the new development that had been built near the harbour.

  Lucy stepped out of the car and looked at him gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

  She didn’t dare think about what would have happened if he hadn’t helped her.

  ‘Let’s get him upstairs.’

  She bit her lip, knowing that she shouldn’t be leaning on this man.

  She didn’t want to lean on anyone ever again.

  ‘I—’

  He must have read her mind because suddenly his eyes were very gentle. ‘I’m a doctor, remember? I’ll check him over for you and then I’ll leave you in peace, OK?’

  She nodded slowly, knowing that she couldn’t refuse. Knowing that she wouldn’t rest unless he’d taken a look at Sam for her. Since she’d arrived in Cornwall she hadn’t even had time to register with a GP. She’d thought Sam’s asthma was pretty much under control, but after today…

  Joel locked the car and strode with her towards the entrance of the apartments.

  ‘I was forgetting that you know your way round here,’ she said, following him to the lift. ‘But your parents own it, so of course you do.’

  ‘And it so happens that I live on the top floor,’ he said quietly, reaching out a hand to press the button.

  He lived here?

  Just one floor above her?

  She glanced at him, startled, but there was nothing threatening about his expression, just a kindness and a strength that unsettled her even more.

  ‘This is you, I believe.’ He held the lift door open and she dug in her coat pocket for the keys to her flat.

  Every time she opened the door she counted her blessings.

  The flat was beautiful.

  Light and airy with fabulous views over the harbour and polished wooden floors.

  Just being there made her feel better.

  ‘Do you have a peak-flow meter?’ Joel was cool and professional as he gave Sam a thorough check. ‘What’s his normal peak flow? Do you have a chart?’

  She nodded and hurried through to the bedroom, returning with the chart in her hand. She waited while he examined Sam and then handed him the chart.

  ‘He seems OK.’ Joel reassured her quietly. ‘But if he gets any worse you can nip up one floor and bang on my door. I’ll be happy to see him for you any time.’

  His blue gaze was disturbingly intense and she shifted.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Thank you for the lift and for checking him for me.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ His eyes held hers for another moment and then he made for the door, glancing casually over his shoulder as he went. ‘Bye, Sam.’

  There was a pause while Sam stared at him. ‘Bye.’

  Lucy watched the door close behind Joel and pushed away the feeling of desolation that wrapped itself around her as he disappeared.

  Bearing the responsibility of an ill child alone was a responsibility that she found awesome, and it had been soothing to have Joel’s reassuring presence. Now that he’d gone she felt more alone than ever.

  Pulling herself together, she concentrated her attention on Sam, talking to him about what had happened, satisfying herself that he understood that she would always be there. Apart from keeping a constant eye on where she was, he seemed to have recovered well and wasn’t nearly as upset as she’d first feared.

  Maybe he was starting to recover.

  ‘You came,’ he mumbled sleepily as she snuggled him under the duvet that night.

  ‘I’ll always come,’ she replied simply, bending to kiss him before turning on the little night-light he insisted on. ‘And I’ll always love you.’

  She pulled his door behind her as she left the room, leaving it open a chink so that she could check on him.

  Joel rang the bell and waited, staring at the door of Lucy’s flat.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He’d promised himself that he’d stay away from her, and here he was standing outside her door like a panting, hormonal teenager.

  Damn, he was losing it.

  And she obviously hadn’t heard the doorbell.

  Maybe she’d already gone to bed. It was only half past eight but she’d looked exhausted after all the trauma of the afternoon.

  He thrust his hands in his pockets to stop himself reaching for the bell a second time, and was just turning away when the door opened.

  Lucy stood there, clearly startled to see him. ‘Dr Whittaker, what—?’

  He said the first thing that came into his head. ‘I came to borrow some sugar.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Sugar?’

  ‘Yes.’ He rummaged in his head for something reasonable to say. ‘I need…sugar.’

  He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t fooled.

  ‘So where’s the bowl?’

  He stared at her. ‘What bowl?’

  For a moment he thought he saw the glimmer of a smile touch her full mouth. ‘The bowl for the sugar, Dr Whittaker.’

  ‘Oh…’ He stared down at his hands and then gave a helpless smile. ‘I’m a hopeless liar.’

  ‘Don’t berate yourself for that,’ she said quietly, a sad smile touching her eyes. ‘Being able to lie convincingly is not top of the list of qualities I most admire in a man.’

  She was obviously referring to Sam’s father and Joel felt his guts tighten as they always did when he thought about what had happened to her.

  ‘Look…’ His smile faded and he treated himself to a long look into her amazing green eyes. ‘The truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t be here, I know that.’

  He gave a sigh and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them she was staring at him, her gaze clear and direct.

  ‘So why are you?’

  ‘Because I needed to see you. I wanted to know that you and Sam were all right.’

  Her smile did strange things to his insides. ‘That’s kind of you. He’s asleep.’

  ‘That’s good.’ He stood awkwardly in the doorway, reminding himself that she was a single mother with a child. He didn’t mess around with single mothers. Especially not one as gentle and vulnerable as Lucy. His family were right. She really wasn’t his type. ‘And how are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said, but one look at the dark shadows under her eyes told him that she was lying.

  ‘Have you had supper?’ He couldn’t believe he’d just asked her that question. It was as if his brain and his hormones were operating separately. Get away from her, Whittaker! Leave the girl alone. ‘I’m a good cook.’

  She looked at him warily. ‘I—I’m not hungry.’

  ‘You’ve got to eat,’ he said gruffly, frowning as he saw how tired she looked. ‘Give me five minutes to scoop some stuff up from my kitchen and I’ll be down to cook you something.’

  Her gorgeous full mouth moved into a slight smile. ‘Surely you have more exciting things to do with your evening than play chef for me, Dr Whittaker?’

  ‘I’m at a loose end,’ he lied. ‘So—do you eat pasta?’

  Her head tilted to one side, and he knew instantly that she was looking for an ulterior motive for his proposal.

  ‘Just pasta,’ he said quickly, placing a hand in the middle of his chest and giving her a reassuring smile. ‘No funny business. Scout’s honour.’

  She laughed. A lovely, bubbly sound that made him want to laugh, too. ‘You’re too big to be a Scout.’ She watched him for a moment, her smile fading slowly. ‘Why on earth would you want to cook me pasta, Dr Whittaker?’

  ‘I want to show off my culinary skills,’ he said, flexing his muscles and giving her a wink. ‘Trust me. You’ll be impressed. My mother taught me.’

  She was still laughing, but he could see that she was hesitating.

  He took advantage of her indecision. ‘Go on,’ he pushed, ‘I’m offering to put a meal in front of you.’

  ‘All right,’ she said finally, her eyes slightly shy, and he grinned.

  ‘You w
on’t regret it. Give me five minutes to raid my fridge…’

  He sprinted up the stairs to his penthouse before she could change her mind, loaded the ingredients into a bag, added a bottle of wine and then made his way back to her flat.

  He tapped gently on her door and she opened it almost immediately. She’d changed out of her uniform into a pair of faded jeans, and her dark hair flowed loose over her fluffy cream jumper.

  Trying valiantly to ignore the way her jeans clung to her long legs, Joel followed her through to the kitchen.

  ‘OK.’ He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. ‘Do you mind breathing garlic over everyone tomorrow?’

  She laughed. ‘You tell me. You’re the one I’ll be breathing on.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ He peeled a few cloves and chopped them. ‘We need to ward off the germs at this time of year. So, Sam went to sleep with no problems?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, surprisingly. I was expecting problems but he seems to be all right.’

  Joel tossed garlic, olives and baby tomatoes into a pan of sizzling olive oil and cast her a searching look.

  ‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about?’ His voice was soft. ‘Why can’t you ever be late picking Sam up, Lucy? Why was he so upset?’

  Suddenly he remembered his father saying that she didn’t talk about her past and he cursed his curiosity.

  ‘Look, forget I asked,’ he said gruffly. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  She looked at him and gave a wan smile. ‘It’s all right. You have every right to ask. If it hadn’t been for your help today I would have been even later picking him up.’ She took a deep breath and her eyes were clouded with painful memories. ‘Sam’s father decided that he didn’t want to be with us any more and so he left.’ Her tone was matter-of-fact. ‘Unfortunately, he didn’t bother to tell us. He just left a note and vanished.’

  Joel turned the heat off under the sauce and put down the spoon he’d been using to stir the pan. ‘He didn’t tell you he was leaving?’

  He looked at her in disbelief and she shook her head slowly.

  ‘No, he didn’t tell anyone.’ She bit her lip. ‘And the day he chose to leave he was due to pick Sam up from school. I’d gone to stay with my mother for the night, because she wasn’t well, but I hadn’t bothered telling the school because I assumed Tim was picking Sam up.’