Hearts On Ice

Hearts On Ice Part 3

Nate sighed loudly, beaten by the circumstances. He knew he'd be a fool to try and walk anywhere in this weather with his leg so bashed-up, so staying put was his only real option. Even though his host didn't seem entirely happy to have him here.

At least it was warm and dry.

'If you need to call someone and let them know where you are you can use my landline. Mobiles don't tend to work too well out here,' Hettie said, nodding to where her retro-style phone sat on the kitchen counter.

Her suggestion gave him a jolt of unease and he swallowed hard before replying. 'Thanks, but there's no one I need to contact.'

'Really?' She frowned at him, her interest clearly piqued.

'Yeah,' he said, aware of how curt his voice sounded but not wanting to invite further questions about his single status.

'Okay,' she said after a beat, nodding and turning away to walk back to the kitchen table, mercifully leaving him be.

He'd done enough talking about relationships with counsellors to last him a lifetime; he had absolutely no inclination to talk things over with a total stranger too.

Her shoulders looked tense now though, and he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, conscious he was probably coming across as a rude arsehole.

'Thanks for offering to put me up. I appreciate it,' he said stiffly, following her to the table and starting to sit down to take the weight off his leg.

'Wait! Don't sit there.'

He paused, mid-sit. 'Why not?'

'You'll make my cushions all dirty. I spent all of Christmas day upholstering those blighters and I'm not having you ruin them,' she said. 'Take your clothes off.'

He snapped his gaze to hers. 'I beg your pardon?' Had she really just asked him to strip?

'I'll put them through a quick wash and hang them over the Rayburn to dry while you take a bath to soothe your leg. You can't hang about in filthy, wet clothes.'

He frowned, a little thrown by her suggestion. 'Can't you put them in the dryer? I'm going to need them as soon as I come out.'

'Sorry, no dryer.'

'You don't have a tumble dryer?' he said, giving her an incredulous look.

She folded her arms. 'Do you have any idea how bad they are for the environment? How much electricity they use?'

Shaking his head in disbelief he held out his hands. 'So what am I supposed to wear once I'm out of the bath?'

Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the room, leaving him nonplussed.

Nate couldn't quite believe what he'd got himself into. All he'd wanted was a quick adrenaline rush to help obliterate the memory of the last few awful hours looking at the disappointed face of the woman he'd once cared about—cared about a lot.

His leg gave a throb of pain and he shifted his weight again to try and make himself more comfortable whilst waiting for the woman to come back.

He still didn't know her name, he realised with a start. Maybe it was better that way though. He was out of here, never to return, as soon as she deemed it safe enough to drive.

She returned a moment later and held out what looked suspiciously like a small, pink, fluffy towelling robe.

'You've got to be kidding me,' he said, staring at it in anguish.

'Nope. It's all I have that will fit you.' She was obviously having real trouble keeping her face straight. Despite the bewildering humiliation of the situation he had to admire her pluck.

'Thanks, but I think I'll pass,' he said, pushing himself upright and limping towards her, fixing what he hoped was an unruffled smile on his face. There was no way he was wearing that thing, he'd rather walk about naked. If it wasn't for the fact he was a cop and could get in some serious trouble if she claimed he was sexually harassing her, that's exactly what he would have done, just to see the look on her face.

'Suit yourself,' she said, shrugging, her mesmerising grey eyes narrowing at his challenge. 'The bathroom's the second door on the right. Leave your clothes outside and I'll put them in the wash.'

Her tone told him she wasn't going to take any more crap from him and he decided to relent. At least she was giving him shelter in this awful weather. It was a good job he hadn't started walking: judging by the weight of the snow coming down he would have been in big trouble by now.

'Thanks,' he said, trying hard not to appear worried about what the hell he was going to do after his bath.

He'd have to play it by ear.

Her bathroom was small but cosy, and he reclined gratefully in her claw-footed, cast iron tub and allowed the warm water to soothe his muscles. His whole body ached from putting that bloody shed back up.

Looking around him, he deduced she must live alone. There was only one toothbrush in the cup on the sink, and all the bathroom products had a distinctly girly look about them. At least some massive, hairy hippy wasn't going to come barging in at any moment and throw him out on his arse.

She seemed young to be living out here all on her own; at a guess he'd say she could only be in her mid to late twenties. He wondered for a moment what her story was, before dismissing the question. It wasn't any of his business. As a police officer, he knew to leave these things well alone. Getting emotionally involved was a bad idea; it could lead to all sorts of problems.

After a good, long soak that took the edge off the throb in his leg, he carefully got out of the bath and dried himself with one of the towels hooked over the rail.

Decision time.

He'd heard her collect up his clothes from outside the door so he knew there was nothing decent for him to wear. He'd even left his boxers out because the mud had seeped through to them, but he was regretting it now.

He could either loiter here until his clothes had had a bit more time to dry, or he could go out there in just a towel.

Sod it, he was going out. No way was he going to cower in here like an idiot. She'd just have to put up with him hanging about half-naked.

What harm could it do after all?