'Sorry,' Carrie said, groping for Dana's favourite toy, her body already lamenting the distance. Her mouth and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tingled. The buzz intensified, demanding to be sated.

'No...I'm sorry...' Charlie ran a frustrated hand through his hair. What the h.e.l.l was he doing? What the h.e.l.l had happened to his iron-clad self-control? He couldn't do this. He still had over a week before he got his test results. And she had a kid. And even if he had been stupid enough to make one exception in this whole crazy year, he didn't even have condoms with him. He deliberately didn't carry them any more, so temptation was always kept at bay. He had to get out of there. Now.

Carrie found the 'off' b.u.t.ton and the silence was suddenly deafening.

'Dana's?' he asked, automatically looking at the offending toy while his mind frantically groped for a way out.

'Yes,' she said, standing and placing it in the basket beside her bed. She could tell by the way his gaze kept sliding to the doorway that there would be no more kissing tonight. She cringed, thinking about how easy she'd been. How desperate she must have seemed. And still every cell in her body hummed with arousal and she railed against her body's betrayal.

G.o.d, what a mess. She looked so lovely, so desirable in the subdued light he wanted to push her back on the mattress and finish what he'd started. He clenched his fists to stop himself following through. 'I'm sorry...' he said, his breathing still ragged. 'I have to go. I'm sorry...things got out of hand. I can't do this.'

'It's OK, I understand,' she dismissed, injecting a briskness into her voice that required supreme effort. d.a.m.n him to h.e.l.l. Why did he have to tease her with the possibilities, and then s.n.a.t.c.h them away before she'd experienced their full potential?

Charlie drew a shaky hand through his hair. His body was still aroused and he was teetering on the edge, while she'd gone back to being Ms Pinstripe again. Ms Untouchable. For a moment there he'd had Ms Tie-Dye back, Ms Touch-Me-Everywhere, and he knew which one he preferred. How could she morph so quickly?

'I don't think you do.'

Carrie shrugged. 'It was a reality check. A lot of men don't want to get involved with single mothers.'

Was that what she thought? He opened his mouth to deny it and then shut it again. This thing between them was crazy. His life was on hold. And even if it came off hold next week, he didn't need anything heavy in his life for a very long time. Perhaps never. And what did he have to offer a single mother and her daughter? He sure as h.e.l.l didn't have any great parenting examples to draw on. Maybe it was best for her to think the worst of him?

He reached out to touch her shoulder, dropping his hand when she took a step back. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

She heard the genuine note of regret in his voice and couldn't bear it. She was frustrated and humiliated and just wanted to be alone. 'Just go.'

Carrie heard the door close a few moments later. She kicked her shoes off and threw herself down on the bed, pulling her legs up into a foetal position, trying to ease the ache between them. d.a.m.n him, d.a.m.n Charles Wentworth to h.e.l.l.

How stupid was she? Had she learnt nothing from the whole Rupert disaster? How could she fall for the attentions of another posh doc? What the h.e.l.l would he ever see in a girl from the wrong side of the tracks? No breeding. No pedigree. She'd had a child out of wedlock, for heaven's sake. It'd be Rupert all over again. OK to warm his bed at every available opportunity, but not to promise until death did them part. Not to take home to meet Mummy and Daddy.

Thank goodness for Dana's toy. If they hadn't been interrupted she had no doubt that she would have gone all the way with Charlie. What the h.e.l.l had she been thinking? She had to work with him. Probably put him out of business if the books were anything to go by. It was unprofessional. Probably unethical. Certainly it presented a complete conflict of interest.

How was she ever going to face him again?

But face him she did. In her usual no-nonsense, tackle-things-head-on, hard-headed businesswoman manner.

'Morning, Charlie,' she said briskly on Monday morning, striding into his office and standing her briefcase on his desk. 'Don't say anything. Just listen. Friday night was a mistake. We both know it. Let's just mark it down to stupidity and forget it ever happened. OK?'

Charlie blinked. Stupidity? 'OK...'

'Good.'

Carrie picked up her briefcase, pivoted on her heel and strode out of his office. It wasn't until she sank down into her chair in the staffroom that she gave her shaking legs and thundering heartbeat any attention. She took a deep breath and congratulated herself on her performance. She flipped open her laptop lid, resolutely putting Friday night behind her and ignoring the betraying tremble of her fingers as they tapped at the keyboard.

Charlie stared after Carrie for a long time. He was still staring when Joe waltzed in with two mugs of coffee.

'One week to go,' Joe said cheerily.

Charlie refocused on his friend's face. 'What?'

'One more week,' Joe repeated, pulling up a chair, propping his feet on the desk and leaning back. 'You know. The blood test. No more pills. The end of twelve months of celibacy.'

'Oh, that.'

Joe sat up straighter. 'Yes, that. You know the HIV thing? The thing that's thrown you for a loop, put your life on hold for an entire year?'

'Mmm.' Charlie said, preoccupied by thoughts of Carrie's moan when he'd pressed his knee hard against her. Thoughts he was supposed to be putting behind him.

Joe c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. Something screwy was going on. His friend seemed very distracted this morning. 'OK, what's up?' He blew on his drink and took a swig.

Charlie realised he'd only been half listening to Joe. He sighed. 'I ended up in Carrie's bed on Friday night.'

Joe almost spat the contents of his mouth all over Charlie's desk. He coughed and spluttered as he struggled to swallow. 'h.e.l.l. I hope you've started carrying condoms again.'

Charlie shook his head. 'Nope.'

'Did you...?'

'No. We were interrupted...thank G.o.d.'

Joe whistled. 'So I guess it's going to be weird around here now?'

Charlie shook his head. 'Apparently not. She's just marched in here all prim and proper and announced that it was a mistake. That we should put it behind us and move on.'

Joe chuckled. 'Well, that's very mature of her.'

Charlie saw the amused twinkle in his friend's eyes and shook his head. 'Pain in the b.u.t.t. Both of you.'

Joe gave a full-on laugh this time. 'So it was good, huh?'

Charlie threw Joe a quelling look. 'That's not the point.'

'Come on, man. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Without it. Without any action whatsoever. It must have been sweet.'

Charlie felt his loins stir with hot memories. Sweet as sugar. 'That's not the point,' he reiterated.

Joe sobered and placed his coffee on the table. 'Look, you have to break the drought with someone when you get your tests come back negative. Why not Carrie? She's a great girl. She even wears pinstripes.'

Charlie looked at his friend with exasperation. 'What did I tell you when Veronica and I split up?'

'You were never doing the whole commitment thing again as long as you lived?'

'Right.'

'So?'

'So, Carrie has commitment written all over her. She has a four-year-old child. I don't know the first thing about being a father, a good one anyway, let alone to a child that's not my own.'

'Rubbish. You're great with kids. Just take whatever your father did and do the opposite,' Joe stated.

Charlie shot him a quelling look. 'You're not listening. She's not a drought-breaker girl. She's a hot roast dinners and slippers by the fire girl.'

Joe winked at him. 'Who just happens to look hot in pinstripes.'

'Joe! Work with me here.'

He laughed. 'Charlie, relax. I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, don't you?'

Charlie shook his head. 'No. That's the point. She has commitments, big commitments. She can't just be a quick roll in the hay. I can't think about sleeping with her without looking at the bigger picture.'

Joe shook his head. 'How the h.e.l.l you grew up to be so honourable in your family I have no idea.'

Charlie ignored him. 'I think she's been pretty messed up by her ex. And she's auditing me, for goodness' sake. She could put me out of business.'

Joe laughed. 'Ah, living on the edge. A turn-on, isn't it?'

Charlie sighed and shut his eyes, letting his head flop back. 'You're incorrigible.'

'OK, OK, no Carrie. But promise when the tests come back negative we'll have a night on the town. Like the old days. You just need to get back on the horse, man. Find an outlet for all those pent-up tadpoles.'

Charlie opened his eyes. His friend was right. It was just the abstinence making him crazy. It wasn't the memory of how good Carrie had felt, her softness pressed against him or her fiery response to his kisses. It had been a year of denying himself those base, natural male urges and throwing all of himself into his work to forget about Veronica and the divorce and offsetting the nagging worry that he might have contracted a terminal illness. A terminal illness with a really bad stigma.

'You've got a deal.' Charlie held out his hand and they shook on it.

Carrie was doing really well until lunchtime when the usual troop of teenagers interrupted her concentration. She'd ruthlessly clamped down on the memories that had played in her head all weekend like a projector reel stuck in a rut. She'd been powering through Charlie's business activity statements, determined to cut her time at the clinic as short as possible. Her face burned every time her mind drifted to Friday night. How could she have allowed him such liberties?

She looked up and caught his furtive glance as he walked through the staffroom. Their eyes locked and suddenly she was back to Friday night, pinned against her door, his heat all around her, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were tingling, her breath becoming thick and husky.

'Carrie.' He nodded.

'Charlie.' She nodded back.

Get a grip! She expelled a breath as he joined the others. Why? Why, oh, why was her body betraying her over this? Charlie Wentworth was out of her league. He'd practically run screaming from the room when the reality of Dana had intruded into their s.e.xual bubble. He could never be a part of her life. Their lives. Their lives. Hers and Dana's. Single mothers couldn't afford the luxury of thinking only about themselves.

And since when had men even factored into her life? Since Rupert anyway? The last four years had been about Dana and building a career to support her daughter, to make her daughter proud. She hadn't taken her eye off that ball once. Until Friday night. And now there was this whole other world out there. And it was lonely.

The phone rang and Carrie resolutely ignored it. Her concentration had been shot all afternoon and she had half an hour to go. It stopped ringing and she thanked Charlie silently. Angela had left a couple of hours ago and the responsibility of answering the phones fell to Charlie.

The door opened and Carrie braced herself for the impact of Charlie's presence. He picked up the wall phone, held it out to her.

'Your nanny's on the line.'

Carrie rose quickly from her seat. Something must be wrong. Susie was not a panicker. Why hadn't she rung her mobile? She flipped open her mobile to discover the battery was dead. d.a.m.n it. Had she been that distracted over the weekend that she'd forgotten to recharge it last night?

She took the receiver from him. Instantly she could hear Dana screaming in the background. 'Susie?'

'Carrie, I'm sorry to ring you at work, I tried your mobile but it kept saying it was switched off. Dana's fallen and cracked her chin on the pot plant and I think it's going to need st.i.tching.'

For a crazy second Carrie's heart stopped. Nothing, nothing had ever happened to Dana other than the odd bruise. She could hear her daughter's distress and her maternal instinct roared into overdrive. 'Is she OK? Did she hit her head? Was she knocked unconscious?'

Charlie heard the note of concern heighten Carrie's voice and quirked an eyebrow at her.

'No,' Susie said rea.s.suringly. 'She's fine. She's just worked herself up because of the blood. And I'm afraid this is one situation where nanny kisses aren't going to cut it.'

Blood? 'Is it bleeding a lot?' Carrie asked, trying not to let Dana's crying or the image of her blood oozing out everywhere affect her.

Charlie walked towards her, concern in his grey gaze. She wanted to huddle into his chest and draw strength from his tall, lean frame. She wished she was at home. What the h.e.l.l was she doing here with books that were a mess and a man who had rejected her?

She wanted to put her hand down the phone and drag her daughter to her breast. a.s.sure herself immediately that Dana was really as OK as Susie seemed to think.

'Not any more, but it did. The wound isn't very big but it's really gaping.'

Carrie's brain quickly sorted through the possibilities as she watched Charlie draw nearer. By the time she got home and they went to either the GP or the hospital it would be another hour. Susie would have to take her and she could meet them there. But it was getting close to rush-hour.

'What's wrong?' Charlie asked quietly.

Carrie put her hand over the mouthpiece, her hand trembling slightly. 'Dana needs st.i.tches in her chin.'

'Bring her here. I'll do it.'

Carrie looked at him blankly for a few moments.

'At this hour of the day your nanny will probably be able to make it here quicker. Unless you'd rather someone else did it?'

Carrie continued to look at him blankly.

'Trust me, I do a lot of st.i.tching. I st.i.tch like a pro. My father's right, I should definitely be a surgeon.'

He gave her one of his slow s.e.xy smiles and she saw that confidence in his eyes. The one from the accident scene and the overdosed drug addict. And she knew she could trust him with this. 'Bring her here, Susie. Dr Wentworth has offered to do the suturing.'

'How brave is she?' Charlie asked when Carrie had hung up the phone.

'She's pretty good. She's not one of those hysterical little girls. If we explain how important it is that she stays still, I reckon she'll be OK.'

'All right, then.' He smiled. 'I'll go and get set up.'

Carrie paced the front lounge area, the thump of music from the jukebox grating on stretched nerves. Where were they? It had been nearly half an hour.

'Mummy!'

Carrie felt her heart contract as she saw Susie, clutching a bloodied and bandaged Dana in her arms. Her daughter's T-shirt was spotted with dried blood and there was a smear of blood on her forehead. She met them on the pavement and squeezed her daughter close.

'I hurted my chin, Mummy.'

Carrie laughed. 'Well, you obviously didn't knock your noggin.' She pulled out of the embrace to inspect her daughter's injury. It was covered with a sticking plaster so the damage was hard to a.s.sess. 'Come on, let's get you inside to Charlie.'

'Charlie?' Dana's eyes lit up like light bulbs. 'From the crash?'

'Yes.' Carrie laughed. 'Charlie from the crash.'