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Back The Midnight Man
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Contents
  3. Copyright
  4. Praise for Caroline Mitchell
  5. Also by Caroline Mitchell
  6. Dedication
  7. Epigraph
  8. Prologue
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. About Caroline Mitchell
  70. About Embla Books

In fact, she hadn’t felt this flustered since re-reading the Christian romance series by Caroline Brookes. The doctor who had left couldn’t have been any more than thirty, and wouldn’t have looked out of place on the cover of any one of those books. It was a long time since a man had touched her, even if it was to check her heart rate. And those eyes …

She leaned forward and gulped some flavoured water. No more chocolate milk for her. She closed her eyes, gratefully accepting the cool breeze as Christian flicked on the power switch of the fan. Yesterday’s sudden attack of indigestion had been a warning. Doctor Costello’s words were grave. This wasn’t her first rodeo. She’d had heart problems in the past and she was several stones lighter back then. If she didn’t lose weight soon, her ticker would give up the ghost and she would die.

‘Why don’t I take the router and put it in my room?’ Christian said, his hand resting on the black plastic device. ‘So if there’s any problems with the signal, I can take care of it.’

‘Really?’ Elsie slammed down her empty glass. ‘I’m lying here, near on dyin’ and all you can think of is your darn Wi-Fi? I swear, Christian Abraham, if I upped and kicked the bucket here and now, you’d crawl over my body to get to that thing.’

‘Sorry, Mom, I was only thinking of you.’ Christian gave her an apologetic gaze before backing away from the bed. The only reason he didn’t pay for his own broadband was because he spent every penny on online games. Christian didn’t have any real-life friends. The only life he had was online. Some nights she would hear him, talking to people from halfway across the world. His conversations were engaging, and it was the only time she heard him laugh.

‘Will you park your ass down here?’ She pointed at the chair next to her bed as he fussed about, picking up empty sweet and crisp wrappers. He looked tired. She knew she worked him too hard. Holding down a full-time job as well as being her constant nursemaid … it was too much for him.

Clutching the empty wrappers, Christian did as he was told. Through gritted teeth, she had managed to call the doctor yesterday, as he sat upstairs oblivious, thanks to his headphones. He had lingered in the background, wringing his hands during the house call. She had refused the emergency services. She would not need to suffer the embarrassment of trying to squeeze herself into the ambulance. But something needed to be done.