The chicken was resting and was ready to be carved, gravy made, vegetables keeping warm in the oven. He returned to the living room and saw Hallie’s lashes flicker as the door creaked open.
It wasn’t wrong, was it, to have her staying here?
But the flicker of guilt was still there, because no matter that he would never dream of acting on his feelings for her, they still existed. And if she weren’t his patient, if they were simply two friends who lived in the same village and enjoyed each other’s company . . . well, then of course at some stage he would let her know how he felt.
Luke felt his stomach muscles tighten at the thought of it. Whether Hallie would ever be interested in him in return was quite another matter, but since it was never going to happen anyway, it was irrelevant.
He was a GP and Hallie Kingsley was his patient. Apart from a single visit to his colleague Jennifer for a gynae concern, since his arrival in Carranford she’d always been seen by him. Furthermore, he knew from her mother how relieved Hallie was to no longer have to cope with Jennifer’s brusque attitude. His partner in the practice might be an excellent doctor, but her manner was unfortunate.
Anyway, that was the situation and nothing was going to change it. Luke exhaled. For the sake of all involved, he’d learned to keep his emotions absolutely in check. She would never know how much she—
‘What time is it?’ Hallie’s dark eyes were open and she was blinking, getting her bearings.
‘Nine.’
‘Wow. I was tired.’ She flexed her shoulders and sat up. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. You needed the rest. How are you feeling now?’
‘Bit better.’ She smiled. ‘Hungry.’
‘Excellent. I have food.’
‘I know, I can tell. My amazing super-powers tell me it’s roast chicken.’
He shrugged modestly. ‘My signature dish.’
‘Really?’ Her gaze was innocent. ‘I thought your signature dish was charcoal toast.’
Wow, Luke did actually know how to cook. By eleven o’clock, Hallie was finishing her second plateful of food.
‘These roast potatoes are fantastic,’ she marvelled. ‘And that’s a compliment, because I’m a connoisseur. Seriously, these are almost as good as mine.’
‘I’m honoured.’ Amused, Luke put the last potato on her plate. ‘Try this one, it might be even better.’
‘Oh God, it’s Mum again.’ Hallie’s phone was beeping with yet another message. She pulled a face; she’d diverted all calls to voicemail so the dialling tone wouldn’t give away the fact that she wasn’t in France, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. ‘I’ll have to call her back.’
She rang the number, coughing first to clear her throat and prepare to sound well.
‘There you are!’ her mum exclaimed. ‘Why didn’t you answer before? I was worried about you!’
‘Mum, everything’s fine. We were out at a bistro. Now we’re back at the hotel.’
Years of worry had fine-tuned Fay’s ears to the sound of her voice. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? You sound chesty.’
‘I’m great. Just tired. That’s why I’m in bed.’ To divert attention away from her lungs, Hallie said, ‘The hotel’s fantastic and my room’s really nice!’
Well, it had looked good on the website.
‘Oh darling, I’d love to see it! I know, why don’t we Skype? Then you can show me everything!’
Aaarrgh. ‘I’d love to, but I can’t. Bea tried earlier and there isn’t enough signal.’
‘Oh that’s a shame. But at least you can send photos! Take a picture and email it to me now!’
‘Um . . .’ Shit, shit. Hallie switched to speakerphone so Luke could hear what was going on too.
‘You can do it while you’re talking to me.’ Fay’s tone was eager. ‘Go on, sweetie, take a photo so I can see your room!’
Chapter 16
‘OK, hang on.’ Thinking fast, Hallie gazed around Luke’s living room and found a section that was safe to photograph. Switching to the camera and holding up the phone, she directed the lens at the area with the comfortable blue sofa to the left, the coffee table in front of it and the curtained window to the right. There were a couple of framed paintings on the wall. Whoops, and a medical journal was visible on the shelf next to the window. Hastily gesturing for Luke to remove it, she took the photo and emailed it to her mother. ‘Right, sent. How’s Edinburgh?’
‘Wonderful, darling. Bit rainy, but so beautiful. Pete sends his love, by the way; we’re having such fun . . . wow, the photo’s here already, that was quick. I thought there wasn’t much signal. Oh dear, you said your room was really nice!’