Midwife Under The Mistletoe

Somewhere across the room Iona cleared her throat and he knew her mind had ventured into the same dangerous territory as his.

Fraser drained the last of his tea. He’d become too comfortable in Iona’s company, if not her new dwelling. ‘Time to go.’

‘Thanks again for all your help.’

He struggled to clamber out of the shape-shifting cushion trying to swallow him whole, which didn’t help the growing sense of panic clawing at his chest. He had to get away from here, be somewhere safe and orderly where he wouldn’t be ambushed by the furnishings or unexpected emotions.

‘Perhaps I’ll start my purchases with a chair or two.’ Iona came to his aid, holding out her hand to hoist him out of the man trap.

‘Not on my account,’ Fraser insisted. He had no intention of coming back here and certainly not to relive those distracting feelings he kept experiencing around her. If only he’d stuck to his schedule, all of this could have been avoided. This kind of havoc was exactly what happened when he didn’t abide by his own rules.

‘You never know who’s going to drop in and, as I’ve just witnessed, not everyone’s used to slumming it on beanbags.’ Unlike his, Iona’s place was the sort people would be dropping into whenever the notion took them. She wasn’t the type to be governed by social etiquette outside work, which made her home so much more appealing than the formal invitation one would require to gain admittance to his. Fraser couldn’t remember the last time he’d even had a house guest but that isolation was part of the charm as far as he was concerned.

Fraser negotiated his way through the detritus on the floor, waved goodbye at the door, but for the entire journey home he couldn’t help worrying on Iona’s behalf about her lack of preparation for the move. Neither could he put out the thought of the contents of his own apartment sitting in storage now he had no use for them. Iona was so pleased with so little but she really deserved better, and with a small effort on his part he could provide it for her and have her think of him a tad more fondly. He didn’t know why her acceptance had suddenly become important to him but it might have had something to do with her smiling at him instead of the usual scowl he elicited.

It warmed him on the inside, reaching parts of him he’d thought frozen in time along with the contents of his family home.

Even though he was worn out after his impulsive house removal, he knew he’d be returning to that compact residence before the night was over. Whatever spell had been cast on him the minute he’d taken Iona in his arms Fraser couldn’t seem to stay away from her and that definitely didn’t fit in with his plans for a carefully organised life.

* * *

Iona sank back into her bubble bath and closed her eyes. This was just what she needed after such a fraught day. Okay, so she’d had to wait for a while for the hot water to come through but like everything else wrong in the flat she was happy to put up with it when she was now the proud owner of all she surveyed.

A secret smile played across her lips as she thought of Fraser’s reaction on seeing the place. The outright horror on his face had been comical and she’d admit to intentionally pushing his buttons by leaving everything lying around to see if he’d try to tidy her up outside work. Iona knew he preferred everything spick and span as he was forever rearranging things in the waiting room, but since he’d insisted on stepping into her personal life, this was her way of marking her territory, creating a boundary. There was a chance she’d also been trying to rile him so he would overstep the mark and criticise her so she could stop thinking of him as anything other than her tyrannical boss.

To his credit, he hadn’t risen to the bait, proving there was some restraint and positive qualities behind his fussy, bossy exterior. He’d been generous with his time and support for her tonight and, coupled with yesterday’s revelation that her urges towards him weren’t only of a violent nature, she was losing track of the reasons to give him a wide berth. At least he’d made it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to come back any time soon so she wouldn’t have to worry too much over the consequences of inviting another man into her life.

It was easy to recall the feel of Fraser’s hands, strong and capable as he’d cradled her after the fall, and imagine how they might feel on different parts of her body. Iona soaped a flannel up her arms and across her chest, startled that her thoughts of Fraser had turned so...carnal.

She let out a groan and covered her face with the cloth. It wasn’t as though she’d become a nun on leaving her abusive ex but she’d put her career ahead of any notions of settling down again after being bitten, and a relationship of any kind had been the furthest thing from her mind. As far as she’d discovered, they only brought pain and heartache to everyone involved and she’d had enough of that to know she was better off unattached.

Now she’d settled into her position here and got her foot on the property ladder, it seemed her neglected libido was making a bid for freedom too. Its untimely reappearance around a man with the uncanny knack of riling her temper was entirely inconvenient—a weakness in the armour she’d built around herself since her reinvention. This warrior queen no longer needed anyone to give her life meaning.

Iona ducked her head under the suds, letting the hot water envelop her whole body in a warm hug. It had obviously been way too long since she’d enjoyed the physical benefits of a relationship of any description when her mind was dragging her towards that riptide with the potential to pull her back under.

In her watery cocoon Iona thought she could feel a dull vibration coming from somewhere beneath the flat. She sat upright, listening to the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the tap, which almost lulled her back down into the depths of soapy luxury until the shrill ring of the doorbell and more thumping noises downstairs prompted her to action. Someone was desperate for her attention.

‘I’m coming!’ she yelled, pulling on her dressing gown with no heed to the water sluicing onto the bathroom floor. There was no time to dry or dress if she was to get to the door before they left so she simply belted the robe around her naked body to protect her modesty.

Fraser was the last person she expected to find on her doorstep.

‘What’s wrong? Did you forget something?’ She couldn’t think of any other reason that would have brought him back again so soon.

‘No. I...er...thought you could use these.’ He glanced over his shoulder towards the stack of chairs Iona hadn’t noticed currently blocking the path.

‘And they couldn’t wait until tomorrow?’ Although it was a nice gesture, it hadn’t warranted an immediate return visit tonight. The impulsive act was so out of character she was thrown by his possible motive. Was this intended to impress her or an attempt to impose his authority in all areas of her life?

Iona folded her arms and did her best to make Fraser realise she wasn’t impressed that he’d interrupted her ‘me’ time for the sake of a couple of chairs so he wouldn’t get used to the idea of dropping in at will. It did the trick as he grimaced and gave her his best game-show-host impression in trying to sell her the quality of his wares with a flick of his hands.

‘I couldn’t bear to think of you here in this empty flat when I have a load of furniture sitting in storage.’ He gestured to the vehicle behind him, having apparently exchanged the practical car he drove to work for a gas-guzzling four-by-four packed with other household goods.

‘Really? This has absolutely nothing to do with you trying to fix me? I know you, Fraser, and how much my empty apartment was probably keeping you from sleeping.’ Her cynical eyebrow took on a mind of its own as she searched for a dark ulterior motive behind the selfless offer. He’d made it obvious he had issues with her laid-back approach to her interior décor but she hadn’t realised it was to the extent he’d empty the contents of his home to spruce hers up.

‘Sorry. I was trying to do you a favour. I probably should’ve asked first.’ Fraser took a step back, shoulders slumped with such dejection Iona may as well have told him never to darken her doorstep again. It was a trick she’d seen her ex use time and again to garner her sympathy and she’d always fallen for it, believing she’d been judging him too harshly and accepting an apology for whatever misdeed he’d committed against her. Only for him to exploit that weakness, lull her back into a false sense of security and strike even harder next time around.

She was less trusting these days but she had absolutely no obligation to Fraser so if he did overstep the mark in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate in bouncing him back down the path.

‘I’m not dressed for company, or furniture delivery.’ Standing here in the cold, face to face with the subject of her recent fantasies, made her aware that she was clad only in a layer of terry towelling.

‘No problem. If you want to put some clothes on, I can bring the stuff inside for you then I’ll get out of your hair.’ There certainly didn’t appear to be any sign of anything untoward going on behind his earnest expression and she could use the items he was offering. This would be no run-of-the-mill second-hand furniture either, having probably been vacuum packed in plastic wrap to prevent it being spoiled.

‘If you insist.’ She left the door open and scarpered back upstairs to put some clothes on. Things were awkward enough without hanging around him semi-naked and partially aroused.

Iona did take her time getting ready, going as far as drying her hair before venturing out of her bedroom again. Fraser deserved a hard time for trying to organise her life for her so she let him sweat for a while. Literally.

When she walked back into the living room he was breathing heavily, the sleeves of his once pristine shirt now rolled up and her flat looking as though someone actually lived in it.

Not only had he carted all the heavy furniture up a flight of stairs single-handed, he’d arranged it all and tidied up the mess she’d left on the floor earlier.

‘You really didn’t have to do this,’ Iona protested, tightening her grip on that theory Fraser was only doing it to exert some control over her. Yet, amongst the seats and the table he’d set up, there was also a small electric fire and a television solely provided for her comfort and not any obvious ulterior motive. Perhaps he deserved some credit for his thoughtfulness but that meant accepting she’d been on his mind tonight too and she certainly didn’t want to contemplate the implications of that.

‘I wanted to,’ Fraser said simply, and continued unpacking a bag onto her kitchen worktop.

‘What are you doing?’ As far as she was aware, she was the only one named on the mortgage and she hadn’t advertised for a lodger but here he was, making himself at home.

‘I didn’t think you’d had time to do a shop so I picked up a few essentials for you on the way over.’

Bread, bacon, butter, eggs, milk and a huge chocolate bar lined the counter as though he knew her shopping list off by heart. Although he was providing the means to christen her new home with all her favourites, Iona didn’t want him to think she was a pushover, someone who could be trained with titbits of chocolate. She was in charge of her life now and didn’t need anyone making decisions on her behalf. It would be easy to take all his efforts at face value, and as much as she wanted to believe he only had the purest of intentions at heart she had to protect herself by assuming the worst. Andy had made it impossible for her to trust anyone, especially handsome men who seemed too good to be true.

‘You really didn’t have to. I’m quite capable of going to the shop myself, thank you.’

‘I know. I just thought—I wanted you to feel more at home. Sorry.’ He started to pack the groceries back into the bag and the waver in his confidence about being there had guilt gnawing at Iona’s insides that she’d got him wrong. Perhaps Fraser was simply trying to do something nice for her after all. Learning to trust new people was a long and difficult journey every time, no matter how hard she wanted to speed up the process.

‘No, it’s okay. Leave them.’ Iona reached out and touched his hand to get him to stop and show him the gifts were appreciated. His sharp intake of breath and her reluctance to move back out of his personal space drew them back into that fizzing awareness of attraction to one another.

This thing between them was nothing either of them could control but she knew Fraser didn’t want to act on it any more than she did. They were complete opposites; they’d drive each other crazy.

Every nerve ending in her body was drawing Iona closer, telling her to submit once and for all. Yet, with Fraser refusing to succumb too, she held her ground. A rejection now would be humiliating every day for the rest of her working life here. If he declined her advances now, it would give him the perfect excuse to undermine her the next time they clashed at the clinic, blaming her hurt feelings for her next bout of stubbornness. A risk she wasn’t willing to take if it could jeopardise any future decisions regarding her patients’ welfare.

Eventually Iona forced herself to return to the less dangerous task of putting the groceries away in the cupboards.

‘How did you come to have so much spare furniture?’ She kept her tone casual, even though her heart was pounding with as much adrenaline and arousal as if they had kissed because she’d imagined it so vividly.

There were a few beats before she heard Fraser move away. As though it had taken him that time to shake himself out of the daze too. ‘My dad died a couple of years ago and I inherited the family home. I sold my apartment and moved back but I haven’t decided if it’s what I want on a permanent basis.’

Keeping hold of the contents of his place if he’d sold it didn’t make much sense to Iona, but she understood the death of a parent was such an emotional upheaval it brought about huge life changes. It had been her mother’s death that had prompted her to strike out on her own regardless of not having anywhere to go or anyone to help her.

‘Sorry for your loss.’ It was a sentiment she’d heard so often herself yet seemed so inadequate when it passed from her own lips. Those four words could never hope to comfort someone who’d suffered such a devastating event. She’d never known how to respond to it either. It wasn’t the done thing to burst into tears or go off on a rant about how unfair it was so she’d learned to graciously nod and thank people for their condolences.