Page 70 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
“Not really.” There was a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I just wanted a bit of sympathy. I was hoping you might kiss it better.”
Yes, he knew exactly what effect he had on her. “I... think the TCP will do a better job.”
She kept her head lowered over her task as she sliced open another pack of gauze and wrapped it carefully over the cut. “Just hold that in place for a minute.”
She found a roll of micropore and taped the gauze in place, then wound a bandage over it, anchoring it with a few turns around his thumb.
“There. I think it’ll be okay without stitches, if you’re careful. Try not to get it wet for a couple of days. You don’t think you should go and get a tetanus jab, just in case?”
He laughed. “You obviously haven’t been around farmers much. We always keep our shots well up to date. Accidents happen a lot on farms.”
“Oh . . .”
“Thank you.” Oh, that smile. “You make a good nurse.”
“I . . .”
He lifted his hand and touched her cheek. Did she lean in to him, or did he lean in to her? Gazing up into those mesmerising dark eyes, she felt as if she was melting inside.
Her breathing quickened as temptation flooded her mind. His head bent slowly over hers, his mouth brushed her lips, light as a butterfly’s wing. Her eyelids fluttered closed as pleasure swirled through her veins, heating her blood. Her lips parted on a soft sigh, and she could only let herself surrender to the exquisite sensations he was stirring inside her.
She had never known a kiss could be like this. She felt as if her bones had turned to liquid honey as his hand slid down the length of her spine, curving her close against his hard body. Thesubtle male scent of his skin was drugging her mind. This was what she had dreamed of...
She froze. This wasn’t supposed to be happening — it was all kinds of wrong. He was married — to a very nice woman, who she would have liked to have for a friend. He had a little boy, and another baby due in just a few weeks.
He sensed her sudden withdrawal, and let her go. She stepped back, ice-cold anger surging inside her, instantly dousing the fever in her veins. How dared he treat her like that — treat his wife like that?
But she wasn’t going to let him see how badly he affected her.Cool...“I think you’re done here,” she said, not looking at him.
He frowned, puzzled. “Done?”
Her heart was thumping painfully, but she shrugged her shoulders in casual unconcern, focussing on packing away the contents of the first-aid box.
“I don’t think...” he began, but she pulled herself out of reach.
“No, clearly you don’t.” She spoke so sharply that it wiped away the playful smile that had crept back onto his face. She turned to put the first-aid box back in the cupboard. “Have you finished with the fence?”
“Just one more piece to put in place, then I’ll be out of your way.”
“Good. I have some things to do later today. Just put the tools back in the garage when you’ve finished with them.”
“Of course. And I’ll send young Wayne over to deal with any shit deposited in your garden.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s much — they weren’t there very long. Anyway, I’ll shovel it onto the compost heap — it’ll make good fertiliser.”
“Fine.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the door.
Vicky slumped down on one of the chairs. She felt hot and dizzy, a thousand unwanted emotions churning inside her. She should never have let that happen.
And it couldn’t happen again.
Maybe it would be better if she sold the cottage and moved away after all — safer. Living right next door to him might not be good for her sanity. But she hated the thought of leaving Sturcombe — she had begun to really love the place, and already she was building a circle of friends.
Why should she let Tom Cullen ruin that?
Chapter Fourteen
Chaos.
