Instead of the sharp retort she’d expected, his body relaxed. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’
‘Address from Sally, instructions from the satnav.’
‘Well, you seem to have everything under control.’ And with that he fell back to sleep.
An hour and a bit later, Brianna turned the car onto the seafront and smiled to herself. There was something about the sea and the pounding of the waves that lifted the soul. Instantly she could see why he lived out here. Doing the job he did, how better to unwind, to get away from it all, than to come to the sea? Though it was May, today the clouds were grey and the sea reflected the dull shade. Not put off, she stopped the car, let down the sunroof and sucked in a deep breath. The smell of the salt spray, the sound of the waves as they crashed ontothe shingle beach. She glanced sideways. The sexy man in her passenger seat, making her feel so very alive. It was glorious.
‘I take it we’re nearly there.’ Mitch sat up in the car and fixed his sleepy brown eyes on her.
God, she ached to kiss him so much it was driving her mad. ‘I thought the sea breeze would help wake you up,’ she replied with a grin.
‘Well, gee, thanks.’
Ignoring him, she carried on down the road and pulled up outside the address she had on her satnav. ‘Oh, what a charming house.’
Delighted, she bounded out of the car, impatient to take a closer look. When Mitch made no move to get out, she turned her back on him and walked down the front path. Did he seriously expect her to just drop him off, turn round and go back? She’d driven him all the way here, the least he could do was let her see where he lived.
* * *
Slowly Mitch eased out of the car, stretching out his legs. Wasn’t charming another word for small? He looked at his house and tried to see it through Brianna’s eyes. A Victorian building, backing on to the sea. He kept it in good order, even doing a spot of gardening when he’d run out of other chores to do, but he had no doubt hischarminghouse could fit into hers several times over.
Pulling his holdall out of the back, he tried to shrug off the chip weighing heavily on his shoulder. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ he said belatedly, catching up with her on the step. ‘I’d offer you a drink, but I’m not sure whether Edna has stocked up the supplies or not.’
‘Edna?’
‘My elderly neighbour. She insists on knowing when I’m coming home so she can turn on my heating and fill up the fridge.’
‘Well, why don’t we go in and see? And if she hasn’t I’m sure we can think of something else to do.’ She trailed off, giving him a coy, flirty grin.
Despite his tiredness and his wariness around her, Mitch couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I think we’d better hope she’s been in. I doubt I’m capable of much more than boiling the kettle.’
He opened the door and before he could say mind the step, she’d darted in. He was close behind, noting the post neatly stacked on the sideboard, a strong indication Edna had, indeed, already been in. The relaxing warmth from the radiators confirmed his suspicion.
‘Well, it looks like we’re in luck. Coffee, tea?’ he asked.
‘Tea would be great, thank you. I won’t expect herbal.’ After giving him a teasing smile she slipped off her shoes and wandered into the front room.
He filled the kettle but as he waited for it to boil he couldn’t resist craning his neck round the corner, observing her as she had a poke around. Did she notice the large patio doors opening onto the wooden sun deck? The original open fire. The state of the art flat screen television. Or did she see a worn rug and battered leather sofa. Books and magazines scattered untidily across a stained coffee table. A wetsuit thrown carelessly over the back of an old armchair.
He huffed and turned his attention back to the tea. It didn’t matter what she thought, he told himself. It was his house, his choices.
When he went to join her she was curled up on his sofa, looking for all the world like a regular visitor. He felt a dart of annoyance, but couldn’t explain why. Was it because he felt saferpigeonholing her as a stuck up rich bird, than seeing her looking so at home on his sofa?
He thrust the steaming mug of tea under her nose. ‘Sorry I couldn’t find the Royal Doulton.’
It was an ungracious comment. He knew it. So, by the look she gave him, did she. Irritated that he felt so damn awkward in his own house, he went to sit on the armchair, pushing the wetsuit onto the floor. It landed with a plonk, the sound bouncing round the otherwise silent room.
‘Do you surf?’ she asked, just as the quiet was becoming uncomfortable.
‘Occasionally.’ He was about to leave it at that, but he’d already made a big enough prat of himself. Time to show her he could be decent. When pushed he could even make polite conversation. ‘But the waves aren’t really big enough on this coast. Mostly I go windsurfing.’ He swigged at his tea, then forced a smile. ‘Look, thanks for driving me home, Brianna. If you hadn’t I’d still be on the train, probably fast asleep and having missed my change.’
‘It was my pleasure. That’s what work colleagues are for.’
None of his previous colleagues had ever sat on his sofa. Or looked so damn sexy doing it. He cleared his throat. ‘I guess this is where I should say welcome to Medic SOS. If I’m honest, I didn’t really think you’d follow through on your ideas.’
‘Oh?’ She pinned him with those green eyes. ‘Of course, you still have me down as the flighty rich girl who hasn’t done a day’s work in her life.’
He shrugged to hide his discomfort. Her words were very close to the truth. ‘You don’t exactly have to work for a living.’