After that evening with Giles, Fiona and Joanna, it seemed to Megan that he was avoiding her. Rubbish, it’s your imagination she told herself—he has no reason to avoid you. Whatever the reason, however, their paths hardly crossed at all in the following week. He only came into the casualty area when a senior opinion was needed, and even Casualty itself was strangely quiet.
“Boring, isn’t it?” said Thelma to Megan one day. “Usually I’m rushed off my feet and curse people who come in here with trivial complaints, but at the moment I’d welcome a case of sunburn!”
Megan laughed. “Welcome it? I should think we’d all be amazed by it! Particularly as it’s the end of January and we haven’t seen the sun for at least eight days!” She sighed. “Everything has been hidden by this depressing grey cloud and it just suits my mood.”
“Mine too,” said Thelma gloomily.
“What about your philosophy of always looking on the bright side?” asked Megan. “What has happened to that?”
“Gone down the plughole,” said Thelma, “along with the washing-up water.”
“You must get yourself a dishwasher then,” said Jamie Green as he breezed in, white coat flying behind him.
“Where have you been?” asked Megan. “I haven’t seen you since the Christmas show. I kept meaning to ask where you were but I forgot.”
“Just shows how unimportant I am,” said Jamie. “And there was I, thinking that Casualty couldn’t manage without me.”
“It was very difficult, dear,” said Thelma brightening. Jamie had always been one of her favourites. “How did the study leave go?” she asked. “And more importantly, how did the exam go?”
“Well, the written wasn’t too bad, but I’ve still got the horror of the vivas to survive. Still,” he added, “if all else fails I can always be an ambulance driver, or better still a train driver. That always was my original ambition!”
Megan laughed. “You won’t fail, I’m sure,” she said. For all his joking and seemingly flippant attitude, Jamie Green was an extremely serious and dedicated young doctor, and she was sure he would make it to the top.
“Better go and see the big white boss I suppose,” said Jamie. “He gave me strict instructions to report back to him after the exam, and he wants a copy of the paper.” He fished a crumpled piece of paper with printed questions on it out of his pocket.
“That’s a bit mucky,” said Megan. “If you photocopy it, at least you can give Mr. Elliott a flat copy and not one that looks as if it has been used to wrap fish and chips.”
“Probably was,” said Jamie. “I don’t remember much of last night. After the exam I went out on the town with some old mates of mine from medical school.” He laughed. “Do you know, one of them is still up in London—he can’t remember where he left his car!”
“I don’t believe you,” cried Megan and Thelma simultaneously.
“It’s true,” insisted Jamie. “He had to ring his department at Northampton and tell them he was sick. He daren’t say he was too drunk to remember where he had put the car.”
“I should think not,” said Megan severely. “That wouldn’t go down at all well with his superiors. Here, give me that,” she took the scruffy exam paper from Jamie. “I’ll pop along to the photocopier and copy it for you before you go in to see Mr. Elliott.” With the exam paper in her hand she hurried off down the corridor towards the admin block where the photocopier was located. As she passed Giles Elliott’s office the door opened and he strode out. A collision was inevitable for Megan was going down the corridor fast and Giles had his head down reading some notes. As she cannoned into him Megan knocked the file from his hand, the folder split open and the patient’s notes, records and letters spilled out everywhere on to the corridor floor.
Giles swore softly under his breath.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” muttered Megan in confusion, bending down to pick up the papers at the very moment Giles also bent down for the same reason. Their faces came to within an inch of each other and Megan could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and dared not look up. If she looked into those blue eyes of his she would be lost, she knew it.
“Let’s toss for it.” His deep voice sounded amused. “If we both try and pick them up we shall bang heads and end up being treated for concussion.”
Megan stood up, still not looking at him. “I’d better pick them up as it was really my fault,” she said, looking down at the floor.
“Nonsense, it was just as much my fault,” he answered. “I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he laughed gently.
A secretary came out of the typists’ office further down the corridor. “Oh, Mr. Elliott,” she said, “what a mess you’ve got those notes in!” She bent down and proceeded to pick up the papers and put them in order.
There was no reason to stay chatting any longer and Megan felt suddenly shy. It was his eyes; she felt sure he could read every chaotic thought that was tumbling through her head.
“I’d better be about my business,” she muttered and started to walk down the corridor, acutely aware that he was standing watching her. She could feel his gaze on her back almost like a physical pressure. Thank goodness I wear tights and not seamed stockings like Thelma, she thought feverishly. At least I know I haven’t got crooked seams!
As she turned the corner into the admin block she breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t seen him for days, then all it had needed was a brief encounter for her to feel like a lovesick sixteen-year-old again. She slapped the exam paper angrily against her side. You are stupid, Megan Jones, she told herself. It’s just no good, you have got to stop caring about him. Although even as she was giving herself such good sensible advice she knew it was futile. She might just as well have been King Canute trying to hold back the waves.
She didn’t see Giles again that day. Although she knew he was in his office because she could hear his voice every time she walked past, he didn’t emerge again. As she went off duty that night Megan thought of the next two days ahead. Two whole days off, plus the weekend. Normally she looked forward to the times when she had a nice long stretch of off-duty. It didn’t happen too often as she usually worked a normal week, Monday to Friday, but every now and then, because time off had accrued, she was able to have extra leave.
This particular time, however, she viewed the forthcoming four days with anything but enthusiasm. She knew she had to fill in the hours with activity, otherwise her mind would be filled with thoughts of Giles Elliott. That wretched man, she thought angrily, but she was angry with herself, not him.
After she had changed out of her uniform and had a coffee, she suddenly made up her mind on the spur of the moment to drive back down to Devon to see her mother. Better ring her, I suppose, she thought as she flung a few things into a suitcase, knowing Mrs. Jones would appreciate some advance notice.
Her mother was delighted, if a little surprised, at the unexpected prospect of having her daughter home for four days. “It will be lovely to have you to myself, dear,” she said. “We can have a good long chat, like we used to in the old days.” She paused a moment. “There’s nothing wrong, is there, dear?”
“No, of course not,” answered Megan brightly. “I don’t come often enough. I’m just making the most of an unexpected opportunity. Is it all right if I drive down tonight?” she added.
“Tonight!” Her mother was surprised. “Well, all right, dear, if that’s what you want to do. I’ll have supper waiting for you and we’ll have it in the kitchen together in front of the old wood stove. I lit it today for a change; I must have had a premonition that you were coming!”
Megan’s face brightened at the thought of sitting in the big old kitchen in front of the stove. She had always done that as a child, only then everything had seemed so cosy and secure. No disturbing thoughts of a tall dark man to trouble her serenity in those far-off days.
The journey down was quicker than Megan had expected. The roads were almost completely traffic free and it seemed no time at all before she was sitting with her mother and sipping home-made broth in front of the warm stove.
Megan wriggled her toes comfortably towards the heat. “This is lovely,” she said. “Sitting here like this makes me think I must be mad existing in that wretched little room at the hospital. I must do something about moving out.”
“Where will you move to?” asked her mother practically.
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll try to get a small mortgage on something when this house is paid for—that’s not long now.”
Her mother snorted. “The prices they ask these days for houses is ridiculous. All you would be able to afford would be a little tiny box on an estate, and somehow I don’t think you’d like that.”
“At least I’d have a little more room,” protested Megan.
“A little, but not much,” said her mother decisively, and Megan knew she was right. She would never be able to afford anything spacious. “Anyway,” Mrs. Jones continued, “Why buy something yourself? You will probably get married one day and you can pool some of your money with your husband and buy a better house.”
Megan sighed and pushed her empty plate away on the scrubbed wood of the kitchen table. Then she stretched slowly and luxuriously in the warmth from the stove. “Mum,” she said sleepily, “if I wait until I get married, I’ll still be living in that hospital room when I’m ninety.”
“No you won’t,” said her mother, ever practical. “You’ll have to retire at sixty!”
Megan laughed and reached over and patted her affectionately on the knee. “I’ll be living in some retired nurses’ home then,” she said, “in an equally depressing little room.”
“Oh, Megan,” said her mother crossly, “you are silly! Of course you’ll get married.”
“Nobody has asked me yet,” pointed out Megan, “and you do need a man in the picture somewhere; it’s essential, you know.”
“There is one in the picture already,” said her mother. “Only you don’t seem to be doing much to encourage him.”
“What do you mean?” asked Megan, looking at her, her large, expressive brown eyes startled.
“I mean Giles Elliott of course,” said Mrs. Jones. “It’s quite obvious he is more than a little interested in you, but you don’t seem to help—you blow hot and cold where he is concerned.”
“I certainly don’t blow hot and cold,” said Megan quickly, “he…” She stopped. She had been about to blurt out the fact that he was the one who seemed to blow hot and cold, but then that would be admitting that she was still in love with him. “His sister-in-law, Fiona, seems to be very much in the picture,” she said calmly. “I’m afraid you have got the wrong idea where he is concerned.”
“I don’t think so,” said her mother stubbornly, “I always go by my intuition.”
“Mum,” said Megan wearily, “we have discussed him before, remember? And we ended up arguing, so don’t let’s do it again.”
Het mother looked obstinate and for a moment Megan thought she was going to pursue the subject, but then she smiled and squeezed Megan’s hand. “You’re right,” she said. “Come on, it’s late, time for bed for both of us. Of course,” she added casually, “there is one lesson to be learned from Giles Elliott.”
Megan frowned; what was she getting at? “What?” she asked.
“It’s a great mistake to marry young. I hope Richard thinks of that and gets over his crush on Joanna.”
Megan laughed. “I shouldn’t worry about Richard, he’s got his head screwed on the right way—and anyway, how do you know Giles married young?”
“He told me,” said her mother airily. “Of course, they were both students at the time and I gather she was pregnant.”
Megan stared at her. “You mean his wife?” she said.
“Of course I mean his wife,” said her mother. “Who else is Joanna’s mother?”
“Oh!” Megan choked back the feeling of resentment that rose within her. Why should she resent the fact that they had found pleasure in each other before marriage? It was none of her business, but somehow it hurt her more than she dare admit to herself. “I’m off to bed then,” she said, forcing a bright smile to her lips. “Goodnight, Mum.” She made her way up the polished oak stairs to her room before her mother could shatter her with any more revelations.
She lay in bed, miserable tears trickling down her cheeks and soaking the fine linen of the pillowcase. Stop it, you fool, she whispered to herself. You are behaving totally irrationally. It doesn’t matter what happened in his life before, it’s now that matters. That was the trouble though. Fiona was there to remind him, and he was so attractive surely, surely Giles must be drawn to her, and not only because they had a common bond in the care of Joanna. Even though they obviously did argue, Megan felt that Fiona had a hold over Giles, a power, something she couldn’t quite understand, and certainly something she would never have.
She fished out a clean handkerchief from underneath her pillow. Rather the opposite, she thought ruefully, blowing her nose vigorously. He is the one who has the hold; he holds you in the palm of his hand like a malleable piece of clay. Oh Giles, I do love you and I wish I didn’t, she murmured as at last she fell into a troubled and disturbed sleep.
Next day Megan and her mother decided to drive into Exeter and do some shopping, although Mrs. Jones did ask her daughter if she wanted to go. “You look quite peaky, dear,” she said, looking at her with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Perhaps I’ve got a cold coming,” said Megan. Her eyes did look a bit pink she knew, and a cold was a good excuse. “The fresh air will do me good.”
They had a lovely morning and ended up staying for lunch at a little restaurant in an ancient building alongside the cathedral. Megan was thankful that her mother didn’t mention Giles Elliott again, and she was careful to keep the conversation well away from anything to do with the hospital. Mrs. Jones, for her part, seemed more than content to chatter on, making sure that Megan caught up with all the local gossip.
As they were leaving they bumped into an old school-friend of Megan’s. Her name was Jean and she had two small blonde children in tow, a small boy of about four and a toddler, obviously a girl as she was dressed from head to toe in pink.
“Gracious, what a long time it is since I saw you!” Jean exclaimed. “Megan, you don’t look a day older, just as glamorous.” She glanced down at her shabby clothes. “You make me feel very scruffy, but I’m afraid all our money goes on these two.” She gazed down proudly at her children.
Megan smiled. “I can see they are both the apple of your eye,” she said. “You’re very lucky, Jean, to have two such beautiful children.”
Jean beamed at the compliment. “Yes, although I admit I am rather biased—they are lovely, aren’t they?” She laughed happily.
On the way home Megan couldn’t get Jean and her two lovely children out of her thoughts. Here she was, the same age as Jean, but a childless spinster. Yes, that’s what I am she thought vehemently, a childless spinster, and that’s how I am going to end up!
“A penny for them,” said her mother, who was driving.
“What?” asked Megan, startled out of her black mood.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said her mother. “You’ve been completely silent ever since we left Exeter.”
“Have I?” said Megan. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular.” She was lying of course, but she couldn’t possibly confess what her thoughts had really been.
Although she tried hard to shake it off, Megan found the pervading sense of gloom enveloping her. The more and more she thought about it, suddenly the more she felt that she had wasted her life, that she had missed something. It was strange; she had never given such things a thought before. Nursing had been her life—it had been filled with everything she had thought necessary. She had never felt the slightest desire to be married and have a family. In fact she had always secretly felt sorry for her friends who had got married. She’d always thought of them as being tied and of herself as being free but now suddenly she wondered if perhaps it was the reverse. They were tied, it was true, but they were tied to people, to a family, to something that was a lasting entity, an on-going thing. Whereas she was tied to nothing more than a job.
Oh true, she tried to convince herself, it was a worthwhile job, but patients came and went and although she knew she helped them and that they were grateful, she very rarely ever saw them again, and it was not possible to form lasting relationships with them or even really with one’s colleagues. The hospital staff was composed of a shifting population; junior doctors had limited contracts and had to move away for their training, and nurses! She sighed; well, they either moved on, got married, or a few stayed and stayed until they retired—and if I’m not careful that will be me, thought Megan.
That night when she was sitting with her mother after dinner watching television, Megan said casually, “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“Really dear!” said her mother, the irony in her tone passing unnoticed by Megan.
“Yes,” said Megan, sitting on the settee with her knees hunched up under her chin. “I’ve got into a rut. I think it’s about time I did something about it.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Well, dear, at your tender age I would hardly say you were in a rut,” she murmured. “But never mind, tell me what you are planning.”
“I think I must move,” said Megan positively. “I must either apply for a nursing officer’s post or I must take a nursing job abroad.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Jones slowly, looking at Megan carefully. “What has made you suddenly decide this?”
“Oh, it isn’t really sudden,” answered Megan, getting up restlessly and going over to the window. Looking out into the dense blackness of the night it seemed to her for a fanciful moment that she was looking into her own soul, dense and black, completely unknown to her. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time,” she continued casually. “I can’t stay a Sister in Casualty for ever, you know.”
“Yes, but you’ll…”
Megan swung round and interrupted her mother fiercely. “Don’t say I’ll get married,” she said quickly. “That does not feature in my plans! When it does I’ll be the first to tell you.” She drew the curtains together in an irritable movement, which did not go unnoticed by her mother. “No, I’ve got to do something more positive with my life.” I’m going to start job hunting.”
Mrs. Jones patted the settee beside her. “Come and sit down and relax at least for now,” she said. “You know I’ll support you in whatever you want to do.” She smiled at Megan. “If you do get a job on the other side of the world, I’ll be able to come and visit you.”
Megan looked at her. Although her mother hadn’t said so, she knew she would miss her terribly if she went to some far off place; and what was more, in spite of all her brave words Megan knew she would miss England terribly. Perhaps I should try for a nursing officer’s post, she thought, but she knew whatever she did it would have to be somewhere other than the County General. She just couldn’t go on working in a place where she was likely to run into Giles Elliott any moment of the day.
“Don’t worry, Mum,” she said hugging her, “I don’t think I could bear to move too far away from Devon. I’m a country girl at heart.”
“You must do what you think is right for you,” said her mother, knitting vigorously. “Just as long as you are happy.”
“Oh Mum,” Megan flung her arms around her, “I wish I could be calm like you.”
“Megan,” grumbled Mrs. Jones, “you’ve made me drop a stitch.” Then she added slowly as she carefully retrieved the dropped stitch, “My calmness hasn’t come easily to me you know; it comes from years of practice.”
Megan laughed. “Yes, I can believe that,” she said. “I think I’d better start practising now. In the meantime,” she got up and went across to the sideboard, “how about us both having a nice glass of sherry?”
“Good idea,” said her mother, “there’s plenty left over from Christmas. Giles was so generous I’ve got enough drink left to last me the rest of the year.”
At the mention of Giles’ name, Megan paused momentarily, sherry bottle in her hand. The image of his darkly handsome face flashed up in front of her. Why is it there is always something to remind me of him? she thought as she poured the clear golden liquid into the cut-glass sherry glasses.
“I’ll go and buy the Nursing Mirror tomorrow,” she said, handing her mother the glass of sherry. “It’s the beginning of a new year, a good time to make a new start.”
“Yes, dear,” said her mother, quietly sipping the sherry. From the tone of her voice Megan knew she was not convinced that it was a good idea!
The days passed quickly. Megan went for long walks along the beach she loved and knew so well. The biting fresh air did her good and she felt strengthened in her resolve to make a move from the County General. It seemed that she had only just arrived when Sunday morning came, and after lunch she would have to pack up and drive back to the hospital.
“Are you going for your morning constitutional?” asked her mother.
Megan laughed. “You make me sound as if I’m about ninety! That’s what old people do, take their morning constitutional!”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” smiled Mrs. Jones. “You know what I mean. I’ll cook lunch and you go for a walk along the beach, I know you love it there.”
So Megan did; she strode along the beach, the keen sea air bringing a delicate colour to her cheeks, her long dark hair streaming out in the wind behind her. Once again, as she had done so many times before, she thought how beautiful was the scene before her. The wide stretch of the waters of the estuary, today whipped up by the wind, foaming white horses tipping the tops of the waves. The patchwork of the countryside across the water appearing mistily through the fine haze thrown up by the foam, like a delicate water-colour.
The gulls swooped and dived, their plaintive screams torn to shreds by the wind and tossed to the elements. Megan felt exhilarated and she began to run, flinging her arms up to the sky. There was no one there to see her, the beach was deserted. At least she thought so, until she suddenly saw the tall figure of a man making his way down the sand dunes that sloped steeply at the back of the beach. He was some distance away, but near enough for Megan to know that he must have seen her running like a child; her arms thrown wide to the winds. She stopped dead in her tracks, embarrassed, hoping it wasn’t someone she knew.
Then her heart stopped and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The distinctive long stride, the height, the dark hair… It couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, but she knew it was. It was Giles Elliott making his way along the beach towards her.
If this was a film, though Megan almost hysterically, we would be running towards each other gracefully with our arms outstretched, and it would all be in slow motion. We’d have ecstatic expressions on our faces as we were running, and when we met we would wrap our arms around each other and kiss passionately! However, as it was, she stood uncertainly not knowing what to do, drawing a pattern in the firm sand with the toe of her shoe. She could hear his voice now, calling, “Megan!” It sounded plaintive as it mingled with the calls of the gulls. Slowly she began to walk towards him. Why ever was he here? Was something wrong?
The concern must have shown on her face because he said with a laugh, as soon as he reached her, “Don’t look so perturbed, there’s nothing sinister in my being here.”
“But why are you here?” demanded Megan. “You’re the very last person I expected to run into here.”
“Run into being the operative word,” he smiled. “I saw you running as if you hadn’t a care in the world.”
“Perhaps I was running away from my cares,” said Megan soberly. “But that doesn’t answer my question—why are you here?”
“I had a free day and I thought about this lovely part of the country, and on impulse I decided to come down and take your mother out to lunch.” He grinned ruefully. “Of course, acting in a typically masculine fashion, I didn’t think to ring and ask first whether or not it would be convenient.” He took Megan’s arm. “However, your mother being the splendid woman she is, has taken it all in her stride and invited me to lunch.”
Megan wanted to take her arm away from his. The simple intimate gesture of drawing her arm to link with his hurt so much, for it meant nothing to him she knew; being so close to him was a physical pain for her.
“Where are Fiona and Joanna?” she asked as calmly as her turbulent emotions would allow.
“Spending the weekend together. Fiona returns to the States tomorrow and on Wednesday Joanna starts at her new school.” He smiled at her, a smile that made her feel as if suddenly it was summer. “Thanks to you, I can start to settle down at last,” he said. “As soon as Joanna starts school I shall begin house-hunting. I was going to ask you to help me, but your mother tells me you are thinking of moving on.”
Megan wondered what else her mother had said. She hoped she hadn’t tried her hand at matchmaking. But no, whatever, she might think, Megan knew she could rely on her to be tactful.
“Is it true?” asked Giles. “Are you really going to leave the County General?”
“I’ve got to find another job first,” answered Megan, avoiding his searching blue eyes. “I shall be around for a little while yet, unless of course I’m very lucky and the right job turns up suddenly.”
“This is all a bit sudden, isn’t it?” asked Giles. “You seemed content before with the work at the County General. What has changed to make you alter your mind?”
“Nothing,” lied Megan miserably. How could she say, You’ve changed everything for me? “Of course,” she made her voice sound as matter of fact as possible, “I shall be looking for a job with a higher salary.”
Giles stopped suddenly and, pulling on her arm, turned her round to face him. “You’re not short of money, are you?” he asked. “For your brother and mother I mean; because if you are you know I would be only too willing to help.”
Megan flushed brick red with embarrassment. “No, it’s not that,” she mumbled uncomfortably. “I just think it’s about time I moved on, that’s all.” His generous gesture touched and embarrassed her. “It’s kind of you to offer to help though,” she said softly. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness to my family.”
“I…” he hesitated, then said, “Well, that’s all right then, but just remember, if you ever do need help, don’t hesitate to come to me.”
“I’ll remember,” said Megan, still not daring to look at him.
“You wouldn’t come to me though, would you?” he said. Although he said it almost as a statement rather than a question.
Megan hung her head. “I’d find it difficult,” she admitted. Then almost defiantly she faced him squarely. “But then I’d find it difficult to ask favours from anyone.”
“You shouldn’t find it difficult to ask friends favours,” he said. “I asked you a favour, and you’ve done me a tremendous service where Joanna is concerned. You’ve no idea of the burden you’ve lifted from my shoulders now that I know she can stay here and everything is amicably settled. You helped to make things easier for me with Fiona.”
Hot prickles of resentment crept along Megan’s spine at his mention of Fiona. It seemed she would always come between them.
“I know Fiona may seem a bit hard on the surface,” continued Giles, “but for all her faults she does love Joanna, and I know she is happy to leave Joanna here knowing that someone like you is in the background. Someone a young girl can turn to if she needs anyone. So you see,” he drew Megan close, “I want you to stay at the County General for Joanna’s sake.”
“Even if I move from the County General,” stammered Megan, her lips trembling at his closeness, “I won’t be at the other end of the earth. I could never go very far away from Devon so Joanna would always be able to find me.”
“And would I be able to find you too?” asked Giles softly, bending slowly towards her. Megan inclined her face to meet his mouth as his lips came down on hers with a lingering passion. Her hands instinctively flew up to his shoulders, clasping them, drawing him closer to her. The drumming of her own pulses in her ears deafened her, her mouth trembled beneath his as she felt her whole body go limp with desire.
Giles drew back from the kiss slowly, his strong mouth curved in a gentle smile. “I want you so much, Megan,” he whispered, “and it’s not only for Joanna’s sake.”
As if in a dream Megan locked her hands behind his head, tangling her fingers in his thick dark hair. “Giles, I want you too,” she whispered, “but I thought you weren’t interested.”
“How could you think that?” He smiled as his lips traced a blazing trail along the outline of her jaw. “Your skin is as soft as silk,” he murmured when he reached the pulsating hollow of her throat.
Megan trembled and tears of exquisite joy wet her long silky lashes; this was everything she had dreamed of and more. One moment she had been alone on the beach, the next moment she was in Giles’ arms and he was saying everything she had ever longed to hear.
“Megan, don’t leave the County General,” he said, his warm lips nibbling her ear lobe. “Stay there, so that I can see you as often as I like.”
A painful doubt began to flood Megan’s heart. She had been on the point of revealing that she loved him, but something had held it back. Now she was glad. He had only said he wanted her, nothing about loving her, and now he implied that all he wanted was for her to be available, to stay at the County General so that he could see her whenever he liked. Whenever he liked; to make use of her, in other words. Not the kind of relationship Megan had in mind with Giles Elliott or any other man.
She drew back, pushing him away with hands that only a few moments before had been pulling him closer so eagerly. “I can’t let sentiment for any man get in the way of my career,” she said sharply. She knew she was over-reacting, but she couldn’t help it, her emotions were a raw mixture of love, hate and jealousy.
Love, because try as she might she had to acknowledge that she loved him, but hate and jealousy too, even though she despised herself for letting such stupid irrational emotions overwhelm her. She put up a barrier between herself and her seething emotions, between herself and Giles Elliott.
Giles looked at her when she spoke with something akin to astonishment on his face. “I thought you said just now that you wanted me?” he said, a note of incredulous anger creeping into his voice.
“I did,” said Megan, disengaging herself completely from his embrace, “but as I said before, I’m not going to let emotion get in the way of my career.”
“But the way you kissed me!” said Giles.
“A momentary lapse,” insisted Megan airily, her voice sounding surprisingly firm in her ears. “Suddenly you were there, you kissed me and I responded. A perfectly natural reaction, I’m sure you would agree!” She started to walk briskly back along the sand towards the house. “Come on, unless you want to get cut off by the tide.”
“I think I already have been,” muttered Giles. “I don’t understand you, Megan, I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you,” said Megan, “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to change my job.”
Angrily Giles pulled her back, preventing her from walking on. “Why doesn’t it?” he demanded. “Why can’t you stay where you can be near me?”
“I was not put on this earth for your convenience,” snapped Megan, beginning to get angry at his persistence. “If our paths cross that will be nice, but as I said before I can’t let sentiment stand in my way.”
“I’ve made a mistake about you,” muttered Giles under his breath. “I didn’t realise you were so hard.”
“Just as well you found out in time then,” said Megan curtly and began walking again. This time Giles didn’t try to stop her but just strode along in silence beside her. Megan had difficulty in keeping back the stinging tears that threatened to come. Pretending to be a hard woman was difficult, but she was determined not to let him see how much he had hurt her by just asking her to be around.
No, damn it, she thought defiantly, every female instinct to the fore as she strode ahead, her dark hair blowing behind her like a defiant banner in the wind—I shall keep my pride intact, if nothing else!