Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse (23 page)

BOOK: Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse

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‘Er … OK.’ I set the mug aside.

Suddenly I was on my back, looking up into mesmerising blue eyes and feeling his weight spread over me. ‘Carl!’

‘Seems everyone that meets you falls in love with you …’ He paused. ‘Including me.’

‘Carl, I …’

‘Which leaves me with one question.’ He touched his lips to mine. ‘Do you think you could ever fall in love with me?’

Fears and hopes tumbled together, the desire to protect my vulnerable heart as strong as the need to set it free. Could I deny the truth? Was I going to allow myself to be exposed to potential hurt again and fall in love with Carl? It was a risk, a big risk.

But I knew the answer to his question. It was actually pretty easy. A decision that had made itself. ‘I think I’m already falling in love with you,’ I said. I looked deep into his eyes and then kissed him.

He kissed me back with a hunger I could happily live with forever. ‘I won’t let you down,’ he whispered. ‘I promise.’

‘Good, I’m trusting you. I haven’t trusted anyone in a very long time.’

‘I know, and I will treasure that trust and treat it with great care. I’ll wrap it in cotton wool and put it in a secure box, look after it very carefully and help it grow strong again.’

I sighed and held him tight, loving having another person in my arms, my bed and my life. Someone who understood me, even if they didn’t know every little thing about me. And someone who I got, whose layers were open and honest, even if there were some I was yet to have the pleasure of discovering.

‘So we’re really going to do this?’ he said, kissing across my cheek and sliding his hand over my right breast.

‘Yes.’

‘And I can tell people that you’re my girl.’ He travelled his kisses down my neck.

‘If you really want to start that rumour off.’

He ducked to gently flick his tongue over my nipple. ‘But it’s not a rumour, it’s true.’

I smiled and stroked his hair. ‘Yes, and I’m more than happy that it’s true. Let’s shout it from the highest hill and scratch it onto the rocks of the deepest valley.’

And I was happy. With my financial fortunes turned, Iceberg gone and a new, seriously sexy man in my life, I suddenly had a vibrant, alive future to look forward to, one that seemed all the brighter for having been in a dark, lonely place for such a long time.

But would I stay nocturnal?

Yes, probably, for a while at least. There was always so much more fun to be had in the still of the night. When the corners were shadowy, the frantic buzz of the day asleep like a fractious monster waiting to wake, and the patients prepared to reach out for what they really needed.

That was my world, the night time; it was where I belonged and where I was happy doing what I did best, nursing. Though now any mischievous shenanigans in linen cupboards or on-call rooms would only involve Carl, the man who’d not only diagnosed my broken heart but had also been the rather delicious cure. Who said medicine didn’t taste good? Mine was truly scrumptious!

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Copyright

This novella is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollins
Publishers

77–85 Fulham Palace Road,

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.mischiefbooks.com

Lily Harlem asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Version 1

FIRST EDITION

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