Snowfire. Anne Mather

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      Tears sprang to her eyes as the wind swept a sudden gust of sleet into her face. Oh, great, she thought bitterly, as the frozen flakes stung her cheeks. This was all she needed: soaking to the skin!

      Afterwards, she was never sure how it happened—whether her leg had simply given out on her, or her foot had slipped on a thread of ice. But, whatever the cause, she found herself falling, hitting the pavement heavily, and scraping her gloved palms.

      It was so humiliating. She had never considered herself a particularly graceful creature, but she had never been as clumsy as she was now. Landing on her bottom, she felt a jarring sensation all up her spine, but she knew she should be grateful she hadn’t fallen on her leg.

      Blinking back the hot tears that never seemed far away these days, she was making an ungainly effort to get to her feet when strong hands gripped her arms. ‘Steady,’ said a husky male voice, holding her where she was without much effort. ‘Take it easy, ma’am. You’ve had quite a shock.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      HE WAS beside her, not yet able to see her face, and Olivia wished the ground would just open up and swallow her. If she had had any doubts about his identity before, the soft southern drawl had dispelled them. There couldn’t be another man who looked like Conor in Paget, not with the same transatlantic accent.

      ’I’m—fine,’ she muttered shortly, shaking off his hands, and keeping her face averted. She was aware that the other woman had come to join them. She had heard the hurried tap of her heels, with the impatient, ‘Is she all right?’ enquiry, which put Olivia squarely into the category of being a nuisance.

      ’She says she is,’ replied Conor, ignoring the young woman’s tone and squatting down on his heels. Even though she couldn’t see them, Olivia was aware of his eyes appraising her bent head. ‘Are you?’

      Olivia sighed. And, with a sense of resignation, she accepted there was no way she was going to be able to avoid the inevitable. Much against her better judgement, she lifted her head, and Conor sucked in his breath with an audible gulp.

      ’Aunt ‘Livia!’ he exclaimed, and Olivia thought how typical it was that he should make her feel even older than she did already.

      ’Hello, Conor,’ she responded, taking advantage of his stunned expression to clamber stiffly to her feet. Using the fence of a nearby garden for support, she endeavoured to hide the throbbing pain in her femur, and was inordinately glad she was wearing trousers to hide her leg’s wasted appearance. ‘I didn’t know you were back in England.’

      ’No.’

      Conor seemed to be having some difficulty in adjusting to her appearance, and Olivia lifted a nervous hand to her hair, wondering if she looked as distraught as she felt. It had obviously been a shock for him, seeing her like this, and she guessed he was dismayed at how she’d aged.

      ’Conor …’ The young woman touched his arm as he got dazedly to his feet, and he looked at her almost without recognition. ‘Conor,’ she said again, ‘I didn’t know you had relatives in England. Is this your mother’s sister or something?’

      ’No!’ The denial he made was vehement, and she widened her big blue eyes in faint alarm.

      ’But you called—–’

      ’—her Aunt ‘Livia. I know,’ agreed Conor shortly. He looked at Olivia as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes, and then added, half impatiently, ‘It was a token form of address, that’s all.’

      ’Then, who is—–?’

      ’I lived next door to Conor and his parents, many years ago,’ said Olivia stiffly, glancing down at her coat, and noticing that it had suffered somewhat from the impact. Much like herself, she thought frustratedly. She tested her weight on her injured leg and drew back instantly. Oh, God, it wasn’t going to stand her walking on it.

      ’Oh, I see.’ The girl was evidently losing interest in the affair. She jogged Conor’s arm, and gestured back across the street. ‘Con, I’ve really got to be going. I told Marie I’d be in at eleven.’

      Conor dragged his thoughts back to the present with obvious difficulty. ‘Then go,’ he said, the indifference in his voice audible to anyone’s ears. The relief Olivia had felt when he had been obliged to look away from her was tempered by his evident irritation, and the younger woman’s lips tightened with resentment.

      ’Well, aren’t you coming?’ she exclaimed. ‘I thought you had an appointment at the clinic.’

      ’I do.’ Conor’s expression hardened, and for a moment Olivia was reminded of the boy he had once been. But then her brain made the connection between the girl’s words and his response, and she wondered with sudden concern why he should be attending a clinic.

      The young woman looked at Olivia without liking. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us first?’ she protested, and Olivia knew that wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was just another attempt to extricate Conor from the situation, without leaving him alone with her. Though why she should feel the need to do so, Olivia couldn’t imagine.

      If only she could leave, she thought. If only she could make some casual excuse for being there, and saunter off along Gull Rise. But every minute she delayed accentuated her growing weakness. She was going to have to get a taxi. Even if it meant knocking on a stranger’s door.

      ’Sharon Holmes; Olivia—Perry,’ Conor said now, after a moment’s hesitation, and it took a second for Olivia to register that he had used her married name. But before she could wonder how he had found out that she had been married, he had bent, and was running exploring hands over her injured leg.

      ’Don’t do that!’ Olivia’s horrified objection almost drowned out Sharon’s angry, ‘Con!’ Both women reacted unfavourably to his outrageous interference, and Olivia shuddered visibly when his hands massaged her calf.

      Conor straightened without haste. ‘You were standing there like a stork,’ he said, his eyes going directly to Olivia’s wavering gaze. ‘I thought you must have hurt your leg when you fell, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? I guess you’d better come inside while I make a proper examination.’

      Olivia gasped. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ’I said—–’

      ’I heard what you said,’ she retorted, wrapping the folds of the mud-stained cashmere coat closer about her slim figure. ‘But I don’t want you to give me an examination. You—can call me a taxi, if you like. I admit I don’t think I’m up to walking back to my hotel. But that’s all, thank you. Just a cab.’

      Conor glanced at Sharon, who was staring at him with undisguised irritation, but he chose not to obey the warning in her gaze. ‘I’ll give you a lift back to where you’re staying after you’ve told me what happened,’ he retorted briefly. ‘Now, can you walk across to the house or shall I carry you?’

      Olivia wished she could tell him what to do with his assistance, but she couldn’t. The truth was that she felt as if she were rooted to the spot. The very idea of putting any weight at all on her injured leg was anathema to her. If only she had brought her walking-stick, instead of pretending she didn’t need it.

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