Dare She Date the Dreamy Doc?

Dare She Date the Dreamy Doc? Sarah Morgan Dare She Date the Dreamy Doc? Sarah Morgan www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Table of Contents Cover Page (#u2baafde4-a626-5776-b048-3e194c37d976) Title Page (#uc321cdab-956d-5b97-9a14-32e3318a3b2c) About the Author (#u08199a2a-eaf0-55ed-96ac-6dd478ca150c) Dedication (#u8a840c7f-a6d7-55ed-995b-8e42a16334b8) Dear Reader (#u1a2142da-0c92-5808-807f-69e1a0212d05) Chapter One (#u405e683b-7d7a-580c-9b6e-538f4869e6a5) Chapter Two (#u7da95339-09a6-5349-b91e-e6d225465a6f) Chapter Three (#u0b5e7246-6318-501b-99bf-eb2147e1dabd) Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) SARAH MORGAN is a British writer who regularly tops the bestseller lists with her lively stories for both Mills & Boon Medical and Modern . As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer, and although she took a few interesting detours on the way she is now living that dream. She firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic, and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times. RT Book Reviews has described her writing as ‘action-packed and sexy’. Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or nagging about homework Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors. To all the readers who asked me to write another book set on Glenmore. Dear Reader Four years ago I wrote two books based on the fictitious Scottish island of Glenmore. I enjoyed writing them so much and had such enthusiastic feedback from readers that I wrote a third—THE REBEL DOCTOR’S BRIDE. This summer I decided to return there again. Jenna is a single mother who moves to Glenmore intent on building a new life for herself and her teenage daughter. Bruised and still in shock after discovering her husband’s infidelities, the last thing she is looking for is love. Dr Ryan McKinley isn’t looking for love either. But the people who live in the tight-knit community of Glenmore have other ideas, and Jenna discovers once again that life doesn’t always turn out according to plan. Like all mothers she has to juggle numerous demands on her time and her emotional energy. She is so used to putting herself second that she has never really allowed herself to consider her own needs. Until now. Glenmore and its inhabitants are so familiar to me that setting a story there is like returning to a beloved holiday destination. Writing this book allowed me to explore so many aspects of living and working in a small island community. I loved giving Jenna her much deserved happy ending, and I hope you enjoy reading her story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love hearing from my readers. Your kind, generous and enthusiastic feedback is what keeps my hands on my keyboard! You can contact me via my website at www.sarahmorgan.com, and find me on Facebook and Twitter. Warmest wishes Sarah xx Chapter One ‘I CAN’T believe you’ve dragged me to the middle of nowhere. You must really hate me.’ The girl slumped against the rail of the ferry, sullen and defiant, every muscle in her slender teenage frame straining with injured martyrdom and simmering rebellion. Jenna dragged her gaze from the misty beauty of the approaching island and focused on her daughter. ‘I don’t hate you, Lexi,’ she said quietly. ‘I love you. Very much.’ ‘If you loved me, we’d still be in London.’ Guilt mingled with stress and tension until the whole indigestible mix sat like a hard ball behind her ribs. ‘I thought this was the best thing.’ ‘Best for you, maybe. Not me.’ ‘It’s a fresh start. A new life.’ As far away from her old life as possible. Far away from everything that reminded her of her marriage. Far away from the pitying glances of people she’d used to think were her friends. ‘I liked my old life!’ So had she. Until she’d discovered that her life had been a lie. They always said you didn’t know what was going on in someone else’s marriage—she hadn’t known what was going on in her own. Jenna blinked rapidly, holding herself together through will-power alone, frightened by how bad she felt. Not for the first time, she wondered whether eventually she was going to crack. People said that time healed, but how much time? Five years? Ten years? Certainly not a year. She didn’t feel any better now than she had when it had first happened. She was starting to wonder whether some things just didn’t heal—whether she’d have to put on the ‘everything is OK’ act for the rest of her life. She must have been doing a reasonably good job of convincing everyone she was all right because Lexi was glaring at her, apparently oblivious to her mother’s own personal struggle. ‘You had a perfectly good job in London. We could have stayed there.’ ‘London is expensive.’ ‘So? Make Dad pay maintenance or something. He’s the one who walked out.’ The comment was like a slap in the face. ‘I don’t want to live off your father. I’d rather be independent.’ Which was just as well, Jenna thought bleakly, given Clive’s reluctance to part with any money for his daughter. ‘Up here there are no travel costs, you can go to the local school, and they give me a cottage with the job.’ That was the best part. A cottage. Somewhere that was their own. She wasn’t going to wake up one morning and find it had been taken away from them. ‘How can you be so calm and civilised about all this?’ Lexi looked at her in exasperation. ‘You should be angry. I tell you now, if a man ever treats me the way Dad treated you I’ll punch his teeth down his throat and then I’ll take a knife to his—’ ‘Lexi!’ ‘Well, I would!’ Jenna took a slow deep breath. ‘Of course I’ve felt angry. And upset. But what’s happened has happened, and we have to get on with it.’ Step by step. Day by day. ‘So Dad’s left living in luxury with his new woman and we’re exiled to a remote island that doesn’t even have electricity? Great.’ ‘Glenmore is a wonderful place. Keep an open mind. I loved it when I was your age and I came with my grandparents.’ ‘People choose to come here?’ Lexi glared at the rocky shore, as if hoping to scare the island into vanishing. ‘Is this seriously where you came on holiday? That’s totally tragic. You should have sued them for cruelty.’ ‘I loved it. It was a proper holiday. The sort where we spent time together—’ Memories swamped her and suddenly Jenna was a child again, excited at the prospect of a holiday with her grandparents. Here—and perhaps only here—she’d felt loved and accepted for who she was. ‘We used to make sandcastles and hunt for shells on the beach—’ ‘Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t die of excitement.’ Faced with the sting of teenage sarcasm, Jenna blinked. Suddenly she wished she were a child again, with no worries. No one depending on her. Oh, for crying out loud—she pushed her hair away from her eyes and reminded herself that she was thirty-three, not twelve. ‘It is exciting here. Lexi, this island was occupied by Celts and Vikings—it’s full of history. There’s an archaeological dig going on this summer and they had a small number of places for interested teenagers. I’ve booked you on it.’ ‘You what?’ Appalled, Lexi lost her look of martyred boredom and shot upright in full defensive mode. ‘I am not an interested teenager so you can count me out!’ ‘Try it, Lexi,’ Jenna urged, wondering with a lurch of horror what she was going to do if Lexi refused to co-operate. ‘You used to love history when you were younger, and—’ ‘I’m not a kid any more, Mum! This is my summer holiday. I’m supposed to have a rest from school. I don’t want to be taught history!’ Forcing herself to stay calm, Jenna took a slow, deep breath; one of the many she’d taken since her daughter had morphed from sweet child to scary teen. When you read the pregnancy books, why didn’t it warn you that the pain of being a mother didn’t end with labour? Across the ferry she caught sight of a family, gathered together by the rail. Mother, father, two children—they were laughing and talking, and Jenna looked away quickly because she’d discovered that nothing was more painful than being around happy families when your own was in trouble. Swallowing hard, she reminded herself that not every modern family had perfect symmetry. Single-parent families, stepfamilies—they came in different shapes. Yes, her family had been broken, but breakages could be mended. They might heal in a different shape, but they could still be sturdy. ‘I thought maybe we could go fishing.’ It was up to her to be the glue. It was up to her to knit her family together again in a new shape. ‘There’s nothing quite like eating a fish you’ve caught yourself.’ Lexi rolled her eyes and exhaled dramatically. ‘Call me boring, but gutting a fish with my mother is so not my idea of fun. Stop trying so hard, Mum. Just admit that the situation is crap.’ ‘Don’t swear, Alexandra.’ ‘Why not? Grandma isn’t around to hear and it is crap. If you want my honest opinion, I hope Dad and his shiny new girlfriend drown in their stupid hot tub.’ Relieved that no one was standing near them, Jenna rubbed her fingers over her forehead, reminding herself that this was not the time to get into an argument. ‘Let’s talk about us for a moment, not Dad. There are six weeks of summer holiday left before term starts. I’m going to be working, and I’m not leaving you on your own all day. That’s why I thought archaeology camp would be fun.’ ‘About as much fun as pulling my toenails out one by one. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fifteen.’ And you’re still a child, Jenna thought wistfully. Underneath that moody, sullen exterior lurked a terrified girl. And she knew all about being terrified, because she was too. She felt like a plant that had been growing happily in one spot for years, only to be dug up and tossed on the compost heap. The only difference between her and Lexi was that she had to hide it. She was the grown-up. She had to look confident and in control. Not terrified, insecure and needy. Now that it was just the two of them, Lexi needed her to be strong. But the truth was she didn’t feel strong. When she was lying in bed staring into the darkness she had moments of utter panic, wondering whether she could actually do this on her own. Had she been crazy to move so far away? Should she have gone and stayed with her parents? At least that would have eased the financial pressure, and her mother would have been able to watch out for Lexi while she worked. Imagining her mother’s tight-lipped disapproval, Jenna shuddered. There were two sins her mother couldn’t forgive and she’d committed both of them. No, they were better on their own. Anger? Oh, yes, she felt anger. Not just for herself, but for Lexi. What had happened to the man who had cradled his daughter when she’d cried and spent weeks choosing exactly the right dolls’ house? Jenna grabbed hold of the anger and held it tightly, knowing that it was much easier to live with than misery. Anger drove her forward. Misery left her inert. She needed anger if she was going to make this work. And she was going to make it work. She had to. ‘We’re going to be OK. I promise, Lexi.’ Jenna stroked a hand over the teenager’s rigid shoulder, relieved when her touch wasn’t instantly rejected. ‘We’ll have some fun.’ ‘Fun is seeing my friends. Fun is my bedroom at home and my computer—’ Jenna didn’t point out that they didn’t have a home any more. Clive had sold it—the beautiful old Victorian house that she’d tended so lovingly for the past thirteen years. When they’d first married money had been tight, so she’d decorated every room herself… The enormity of what she’d lost engulfed her again and Jenna drew in a jerky breath, utterly daunted at the prospect of creating a new life from scratch. By herself. Lexi dug her hand in her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. ‘No signal. Mum, there’s no signal!’ Panic mingled with disgust as she waved her phone in different directions, trying to make it work. ‘I swear, if there’s no signal in this place I’m swimming home. It’s bad enough not seeing my friends, but not talking to them either is going to be the end.’ Not by herself, Jenna thought. With her daughter. Somehow they needed to rediscover the bond they’d shared before the stability of their family had been blown apart. ‘This is a great opportunity to try a few different things. Develop some new interests.’ Lexi gave her a pitying look. ‘I already have interests, Mum. Boys, my friends, hanging out, and did I say boys? Chatting on my phone—boys. Normal stuff, you know? No, I’m sure you don’t know—you’re too old.’ She huffed moodily. ‘You met Dad when you were sixteen, don’t forget.’ Jenna flinched. She had just managed to put Clive out of her mind and Lexi had stuffed him back in her face. And she wasn’t allowed to say that she’d had no judgement at sixteen. She couldn’t say that the whole thing had been a mistake, because then Lexi would think she was a mistake and that wasn’t true. ‘All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind while you’re here, Lexi. You’ll make new friends.’ ‘Anyone who chooses to spend their life in a place like this is seriously tragic and no friend of mine. Face it, Mum, basically I’m going to have a miserable, lonely summer and it’s all your fault.’ Lexi scowled furiously at the phone. ‘There’s still no signal. I hate this place.’ ‘It’s probably something to do with the rocky coastline. It will be fine once we land on the island.’ ‘It is not going to be fine! Nothing about this place is fine.’ Lexi stuffed the phone moodily back in her pocket. ‘Why didn’t you let me spend the summer with Dad? At least I could have seen my friends.’ Banking down the hurt, Jenna fished for a tactful answer. ‘Dad is working,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound too robotic. ‘He was worried you’d be on your own too much.’ Well, what was she supposed to say? Sorry, Lexi, your dad is selfish and wants to forget he has responsibilities so he can spend his summer having sex with his new girlfriend. ‘I wouldn’t have cared if Dad was working. I could have hung around the house. I get on all right with Suzie. As long as I block out the fact that my Dad is hooked up with someone barely older than me.’ Jenna kept her expression neutral. ‘People have relationships, Lexi. It’s part of life.’ Not part of her life, but she wasn’t going to think about that now. For now her priorities were remembering to breathe in and out, get up in the morning, go to work, earn a living. Settling into her job, giving her daughter roots and security—that was what mattered. ‘When you’re young, yes. But he’s old enough to know better. They should be banned for everyone over twenty-one.’ Lexi shuddered. ‘Thank goodness you have more sense. It’s a relief you’re past all that.’ Jenna blinked. She was thirty-three. Was thirty-three really past it? Perhaps it was. By thirty-three you’d discovered that fairy tales were for children, that men didn’t ride up with swords to rescue you; they were more likely to run you down while looking at the pretty girl standing behind you. Resolutely she blocked that train of thought. She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t going to generalise and blame the entire male race for Clive’s shortcomings. She wasn’t going to grow old bitter and twisted, giving Lexi the impression that all men were selfish losers. It wasn’t men who had hurt her; it was Clive. One man—not all men. It was Clive who had chosen to have a rampant affair with a trainee lawyer barely out of college. It was Clive who had chosen to have sex on his desk without bothering to lock the door. There were moments when Jenna wondered if he’d done it on purpose, in the hope of being caught so he could prove how virile he was. She frowned. Virile? If she’d been asked for a word to describe Clive, it certainly wouldn’t have been virile. That would have been like describing herself as sexy, and she would never in a million years describe herself as sexy. When had she ever had wild sex with a man while still wearing all her clothes? No one had ever been that desperate for her, had they? Not even Clive. Certainly not Clive. When Clive had come home from the office they’d talked about household accounts, mending the leaking tap, whether or not they should have his mother for the weekend. Never had he walked through the door and grabbed her, overwhelmed by lust. And she wouldn’t have wanted him to, Jenna admitted to herself. If he had grabbed her she would have been thinking about all the jobs she still had to do before she could go to bed. Blissfully unaware that her mother was thinking about sex, Lexi scuffed her trainer on the ground. ‘There would have been loads for me to do in London. Cool stuff, not digging up bits of pot from muddy ground. I could have done my own thing.’ ‘There will be lots of things to do here.’ ‘On my own. Great.’ ‘You’ll make friends, Lex.’ ‘What if I don’t? What if everyone hates me?’ Seeing the insecurity in her daughter’s eyes, Jenna hugged her, not confessing that she felt exactly the same way. Still, at least the people here wouldn’t be gossiping about her disastrous marriage. ‘They won’t hate you. You make friends easily, and everyone on this island is friendly.’ Please let them be friendly. ‘That’s why we’re here.’ Lexi leaned on the rail and stared at the island mournfully. ‘Change is the pits.’ ‘Change often feels difficult, but it can turn out to be exciting.’ Jenna parroted the words, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. ‘Life is full of possibilities.’ ‘Not stuck here, it isn’t. Face it, Mum. It’s crap.’ Ryan McKinley stood with his legs braced and his arms folded. His eyes stung from lack of sleep, he’d had no time to shave, and his mind was preoccupied by thoughts of the little girl with asthma he’d seen during the night. He dug his mobile out of his pocket and checked for missed calls and messages but for once there were none—which meant that the child was probably still sleeping peacefully. Which was what he would have been doing, given the choice. As the ferry approached the quay, he slipped the phone back into his pocket, trying not to think of the extra hour he could have spent in bed. Why had Evanna insisted that he be the one to meet the new practice nurse? If he hadn’t known that the woman had a teenage daughter, he would have suspected Evanna of matchmaking. He’d even thought of mentioning his suspicions to Logan McNeil, his colleague and the senior partner in the Glenmore Medical Centre. If she was planning something, Logan would probably know, given that Evanna was his wife. Wife, mother, midwife and—Ryan sighed—friend. She was a loyal, caring friend. In the two years he’d been living on the island she’d done everything she could to end his hermit-like existence. It had been Evanna who had dragged him into island life, and Evanna who had insisted that he help out when the second island doctor had left a year earlier. He hadn’t been planning to work, but the work had proved a distraction from his thoughts, as she’d guessed it would. And it was different enough from his old job to ensure that there were no difficult memories. Different had proved to be good. The shift in pace and pressure just what he’d needed. But, as grateful as he was to his colleague’s wife for forcing him out of his life of self-imposed isolation, he refused to go along with her need to see him in a relationship. There were some things that wouldn’t change. ‘Hi, Dr McKinley. You’re up early—’ A pretty girl strolled over to him, her hair swinging over her shoulders, her adoring gaze hopeful. ‘Last night was fun, wasn’t it?’ ‘It was a good night, Zoe.’ Confronted with the realities of living as part of a small island community, Ryan chose his words carefully. This was the drawback of living and working in the same place, he mused. He was her doctor. He knew about her depression and the battle she’d had to get herself to this point. ‘You looked as though you were enjoying yourself. It was good to see you out. I’m glad you’re feeling better.’ He’d spent the evening trying to keep the girl at a safe distance without hurting her feelings in front of her friends. Aware that her emotions were fragile, he hadn’t wanted to be the cause of any more damage—but he knew only too well how important it was to keep that distance. ‘I wasn’t drinking alcohol. You told me not to with those tablets.’ ‘Probably wise.’ ‘I—’ She pushed her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans, slightly awkward. ‘You know—if you ever wanted to go out some time—’ She broke off and her face turned scarlet. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Millions of girls want to go out with you, I know. Sorry. Why would someone like you pick a screwball like me?’ ‘You’re not a screwball.’ Ryan wondered why the most difficult conversations always happened at the most awkward times. The ferry was docking and he was doing a consultation on the quay, within earshot of a hundred disembarking passengers. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she was trying to step over a line he never allowed a patient to cross. ‘You’re suffering from depression, Zoe, and that’s an illness like any other.’ ‘Yes, I know. You made me see that.’ Painfully awkward, she rubbed her toe on the hard concrete of the quay. ‘You’ve been great, Dr McKinley. Really great. I feel better about everything, now. More able to cope, you know? And I just wondered if—’ Ryan cut her off before she went too far and said something that couldn’t be unsaid. ‘Apart from the fact I’m your doctor, and I’d be struck off if I said yes, I’m way too old for you.’ Too old. Too cynical. ‘But I’m pleased you feel like dating. That’s good, Zoe. And, judging from the way the men of Glenmore were flocking around you last night, you’re not short of admirers, so I think you should go for it. Pick someone you like and get yourself out there.’ Her wistful glance told him exactly who was top of her list, and she gazed at him for a moment before giving a short laugh. ‘You’re refusing me.’ ‘Yes.’ Ryan spoke firmly, not wanting there to be any mistake. ‘I am. But in the nicest possible way.’ Zoe was looking at him anxiously. ‘I’ve embarrassed you—’ ‘I’m not embarrassed.’ Ryan searched for the right thing to say, knowing that the correct response was crucial both for her self-esteem and their future relationship. ‘We’ve talked a lot over the past two months, Zoe. You’ve trusted me with things you probably haven’t told other people. It’s not unusual for that type of confidence to make you feel a bit confused about your own feelings. If it would help, you can change doctors.’ ‘I’m not confused, Dr McKinley. And I don’t want to change doctors. You’ve got such a way with words, and I’ve never known a man listen like you—I suppose that’s why I—’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I will date one of those guys.’ She smiled up at him. ‘That archaeologist who’s hanging around this summer is pretty cool.’ ‘Interesting guy,’ Ryan agreed, relieved that she didn’t appear to be too heartbroken by his rejection. ‘What about you, Dr McKinley? Why are you waiting for the ferry? Are you meeting a woman?’ ‘In a manner of speaking. Our new practice nurse is arriving today. Reinforcements.’ And he had a favour to ask her. He just hoped that Jennifer Richards was a big-hearted woman. ‘A new nurse?’ There was a wistful note to Zoe’s voice. ‘Well, I know Nurse Evanna needs the help. So what’s this new nurse like? Is she young?’ ‘She’s coming with her teenage daughter.’ Why had Evanna wanted him to meet her? That question played on his mind as he watched the ferry dock. It could have been an innocent request, but he also knew that his colleague was obsessed with matching people up. She wanted a happy ending. Ryan felt the tension spread across his shoulders. He knew life didn’t often offer up happy endings. Zoe’s face brightened. ‘If she has a teenage daughter, she must be forty at least. Maybe even older.’ She dismissed the competition. ‘Well, the ferry is on time, so you’re about to meet your nurse.’ Shaking the sleep out of his brain, Ryan watched as a patchwork of people flowed off the ferry. Businessmen in suits, families clutching bulging beach bags, toddlers in pushchairs. A slightly overweight, middle-aged woman puffed her way towards him carrying a suitcase. He didn’t know whether to be relieved that Evanna clearly hadn’t been matchmaking or disappointed that their new practice nurse didn’t look fit enough to work a hard day at the surgery. ‘Jennifer?’ He extended a hand. ‘I’m Dr McKinley. Ryan McKinley. Welcome to Glenmore Island.’ The woman looked startled. ‘Thank you, but I’m Caroline, not Jennifer. I’m just here for a week with my husband.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards a sweating, balding man, who was struggling with a beach umbrella and an assortment of bags, one of which popped open, spilling the contents onto the quay. ‘Oops. Let me help you—’ A slim girl put down her own suitcase, stepped forward and deftly rescued the contents of the bag, her pink mouth curving into a friendly smile as she stuffed everything back inside and snapped the bag firmly shut. Ryan’s gaze lingered on that mouth for a full five seconds before shifting to her snaky dark curls. The clip at the back of her head suggested that at one time her hair had been fastened, but it had obviously made an escape bid during the ferry journey and was now tumbling unrestrained around her narrow shoulders. She was pale, and there were dark rings under her eyes—as if she hadn’t had a decent sleep in months. As if life had closed its jaws and taken a bite out of her. He recognised the look because for months he’d seen it in his own reflection when he’d looked in the mirror. Or maybe he was imagining things. Plenty of people looked tired when they first arrived on the island. It took time to relax and unwind, but by the time they caught the ferry back to the mainland they had colour in their cheeks and the dark circles had gone. Doubtless this girl had worked all winter in some grey, smog-filled city, saving up her holiday for a couple of bracing weeks on a remote Scottish island. Eyeing the jumper looped around her shoulders, Ryan realised that she obviously knew that summer weather on Glenmore could be unpredictable. He watched her for a full minute, surprised by the kindness she showed to a stranger. With no fuss, she helped rearrange his possessions into a manageable load, making small talk about the problems of packing for a holiday in a destination where the weather was unpredictable. Having helped the couple, the girl stood for a moment, just breathing in the sea air, as if she hadn’t stood still for ages while the man and his wife carted themselves and their luggage towards the two island taxis. ‘The brochures promise you a welcome,’ the woman panted, her voice carrying across the quay, ‘but I didn’t imagine that the island doctor would meet everyone personally. He even shook my hand! That is good service.’ A faint smile on his lips, Ryan watched them pile into a taxi. Then he stared at the ferry, resisting the temptation to take another look at the girl. He hoped the nurse and her daughter hadn’t missed the boat. A hand touched his arm. ‘Did I hear you say that you’re Dr McKinley?’ The girl with the tumbling black hair was beside him, cases by her feet, her voice smoky soft and her eyes sharp and intelligent. ‘I’m Jenna.’ Ryan looked into her eyes and thought of the sea. Shades of aquamarine, green and blue blended into a shade that was uniquely hers. He opened his mouth and closed it again—tried to look away and found that he couldn’t. So he just carried on staring, and he saw something blossom in the depths of those eyes. Awareness. A connection. As if each recognised something in the other. Something gripped him hard—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Shocked by the chemistry, Ryan inhaled sharply and prepared himself to put up barriers, but she got there first. Panic flickered across her face and she took a step backwards, clearly rejecting what had happened between them. And that was fine with him, because he was rejecting it too. He didn’t even know why she’d introduced herself. Was every passenger going to shake his hand this morning? Ryan knew he needed to say something casual and dismissive, but his eyes were fixed on the sweet lines of her profile and his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. She wasn’t a girl, he realised. She was a woman. A young woman. Mid-twenties? And she looked bone tired—as if she was ready to collapse into a big comfortable bed and sleep for a month. ‘Sorry. I must have misheard—’ Flustered, she adjusted the bag that hung from her shoulder. ‘I thought I heard you say that you’re Dr McKinley.’ ‘I did.’ ‘Oh.’ Her tone suggested that news was unwelcome. Then she stuck out her hand. ‘Right, well, I’m Jennifer Richards. Jenna.’ She left her hand hovering in the space between them for a moment, and then slowly withdrew it as he simply stared at her. ‘What’s wrong? Have I arrived on the wrong day? You look a bit…stunned to see me.’ Jennifer Richards? Stunned didn’t begin to describe his reaction. Ryan cleared his throat and shook her hand, noticing that her fingers were slim and cool. ‘Right day.’ Wrong description. ‘It’s just that—my partner fed me false information. I was expecting a woman and her teenage daughter.’ Someone about twenty years older. Someone who wasn’t going to make his hormones surge. ‘Ah—’ She glanced towards the ferry, her smile tired. ‘Well, I’m the woman, but the teenage daughter is still on the boat, I’m afraid. That’s her, hanging over the side glaring at me. She’s refusing to get off, and I’m still trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation without ruining my reputation before I even take my first clinic. I don’t suppose you have any experience in handling moody teenagers, Dr McKinley?’ He cleared his throat. ‘None.’ ‘Shame.’ Her tone was a mixture of humour and weary acceptance. ‘This is one of those occasions when I need to refer to my handbook on teenagers. Stupidly, I packed it at the bottom of the suitcase. Next time it’s going in my handbag and if necessary I’ll ditch my purse. I apologise for her lack of manners.’ She flushed self-consciously and looked away. ‘You’re staring at me, Dr McKinley. You’re thinking I should have better control over my child.’ Yes, he was staring. Of course he was staring. All the men on Glenmore were going to be staring. Ryan realised that she was waiting for him to say something. ‘I’m thinking you can’t possibly be old enough to be that girl’s mother. Is she adopted?’ Damn. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. ‘No, she’s all mine. I have sole responsibility for the behavioural problems. But it’s refreshing to hear I don’t look old enough. According to Lexi, I’m a dinosaur. And she’s probably right. I certainly feel past it—particularly right now, when I’m going to have to get firm with her in public. Oh, joy.’ The wind flipped a strand of hair across her face and she anchored it with her fingers. ‘You’re still staring, Dr McKinley. I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting.’ So was he. He wasn’t ready to feel this. Wasn’t sure he wanted to feel this. Mistrusting his emotions, Ryan ran a hand over his neck, wondering what had happened to his powers of speech. ‘You must have been a child bride. Either that or you have shares in Botox.’ ‘Child bride.’ There was a wistful note to her voice, and something else that he couldn’t decipher. And then she lifted her eyebrows as the girl flounced off the ferry. ‘Well, that’s a first. She’s doing something I want her to do without a row. I wonder what made her co-operate. Lexi—’ she lifted her voice slightly ‘—come and meet Dr McKinley.’ A slender, moody teenager stomped towards them. Ryan, who had never had any trouble with numbers, couldn’t work out how the girl in front of him could be this woman’s daughter. ‘Hi, there. Nice to meet you.’ Eyes exactly like her mother’s stared back at him. ‘Are you the one who gave my mum this job? You don’t look like anything like a doctor.’ Ryan wanted to say that Jenna didn’t look like the mother of a teenager, but he didn’t. ‘That’s because I didn’t have time to shave before I met the ferry.’ He rubbed his fingers over his roughened jaw. ‘I am a doctor. But I didn’t give your mother the job—that was my colleague, Dr McNeil.’ ‘Well, whatever you do, don’t put her in charge of family planning. As you can probably tell from looking at me, contraception is so not her specialist subject.’ ‘Lexi!’ Jenna sounded mortified and the girl flushed. ‘Sorry. It’s just—oh, never mind. Being in this place is really doing my head in.’ Close to tears, the teenager flipped her hair away from her face and stared across the quay. ‘Is there an internet caf? or something? Any way of contacting the outside world? Or are we using Morse code and smoke signals? Or, better still, can we just go home, Mum?’ Ryan was still watching Jenna. He saw the pain in her eyes, the exasperation and the sheer grit and determination. She looked like someone who was fighting her way through a storm, knowing that there was no shelter. Interesting, he mused, that Glenmore so often provided a bolthole for the wounded. He wondered what these two were escaping. Sensing that Jenna was hideously embarrassed, he knew he ought to say something—but what did he know about handling teenagers? Nothing. And he knew even less about what to say to soften the blow of teenage rudeness. Assuming that something along the lines of she’ll be leaving home in another four years wouldn’t go down well, Ryan opted to keep his mouth shut. He’d never raised a child, had he? Never been given that option. Anger thudded through him and he stilled, acknowledging that the feelings hadn’t gone away. He’d buried them, but they were still there. Taking an audible breath, Jenna picked up their bags. ‘We’re renting a cottage at West Beach. Is there a bus that goes that way?’ ‘No bus. There are taxis, but before you think about that I have a favour to ask.’ ‘What favour can I possibly do you already?’ Ryan gently prised the suitcases from her cold fingers, sensing the vulnerability hidden beneath layers of poise and dignity. ‘I know you’re not supposed to officially start until tomorrow, but we’re snowed under at the surgery. I’m supposed to exert my charm to persuade you to start early, only I was up three times in the night so I’m not feeling that charming. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack and say yes.’ ‘You do house-calls?’ ‘Is that surprising?’ ‘The doctors I worked with rarely did their own house-calls. It was the one thing—’ She broke off and smiled at him, obviously deciding that she’d said too much. ‘On Glenmore we can’t delegate. We don’t have an out-of-hours service or a local hospital—it’s just the three of us.’ He looked at her pointedly. ‘Four now. You’re one of the team.’ And he still wasn’t sure what he thought about that. ‘Are you sure you still want me? You’re sure you don’t want to rethink my appointment after what Lexi just said?’ Her tone was light, but there was vulnerability in her eyes that told him she was worrying about her daughter’s comments. Ryan was surprised that she was so sensitive to what others might be thinking. Out of the blue, his mind drifted to Connie. Connie hadn’t given a damn what other people thought. She’d been so monumentally selfish and self-absorbed that it had driven him mad. ‘Your qualifications are really impressive. We’re delighted to have you here. And the sooner you can start the better.’ ‘I spoke to Evanna McNeil on the phone.’ She turned her head and checked on her daughter. ‘She’s arranged for us to pick up the keys to the cottage this morning. I was going to spend the day settling in and start work tomorrow.’ ‘The cottage isn’t far from here. And I know you were supposed to have today to settle in, but if there is any way I can persuade you to start work this morning that would be fantastic. There’s a clinic starting at eight-thirty, and the girl who helps Evanna with the kids is off sick so she has to look after the children. I’d cancel it, but we’re already overrun because we’ve been down a nurse for a few months.’ ‘But if the clinic starts at eight-thirty that’s just half an hour from now.’ Jenna glanced at her watch, flustered by his request, working out the implications. ‘I want to help, of course. Normally I’d say yes instantly, but—well, I haven’t made any arrangements for Lexi.’ ‘I’m not six, Mum. I’ll stay on my own.’ The girl looked round with a despairing look on her face. ‘I’m hardly likely to get into danger here.’ Ryan had a feeling that the child would be capable of getting into trouble in an empty room, and Jenna was clearly of the same opinion because she looked doubtful. ‘I’m not leaving you on your own until we’ve both settled in and found our feet. It’s going to be OK, Lex.’ Her gaze was fixed on her daughter’s face and Ryan wanted to ask what was going to be OK. What had given her dark rings around her eyes? What was keeping her awake at night? Why had she taken a job on a remote Scottish Island? It didn’t take a genius to sense that there was a great deal more going on than was revealed by their spoken communication. And he couldn’t help noticing that no man had followed her off the ferry. If there was a Mr Richards, then he was keeping his distance. With customary practicality, Ryan searched for a solution. ‘Lexi can come too. The surgery is attached to the house. She can hang out with Evanna and the children. Evanna would be glad of the help, and it will give Lexi a chance to find out something about the island. And I can drive you over to the cottage at lunchtime. I’ll even help you unpack to speed things up.’ ‘Mum!’ Lexi spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I’m not spending the morning looking after a couple of babies! I’d rather go to broken pottery camp, or whatever it’s called!’ Ryan struggled to think like a teenager. ‘Evanna has internet access, and the mobile signal is great from her house.’ Lexi gave a wide smile that transformed her face from sullen to stunning. ‘Then what are we waiting for? Lead me to civilisation. Otherwise known as wireless broadband.’ Chapter Two ‘I NORMALLY see Nurse Evanna,’ the old lady said, settling herself into the chair. ‘She knows exactly what to do with my leg.’ Could today get any worse? Feeling mentally exhausted, Jenna scanned the notes on the screen. Not only did her daughter not want her to be here, the patients didn’t appear to want her either. And doubtless Dr McKinley was also regretting her appointment after that embarrassing scenario on the quay. And to top it all, having not thought about sex for what seemed like the whole of her twenties, she’d looked into Ryan McKinley’s cool blue eyes and suddenly started thinking about nothing but sex. She’d been so mesmerised by an alien flash of chemistry that she’d almost embarrassed herself. Jenna cringed at the memory of just how long she’d stared at him. Who was she kidding? She had embarrassed herself. There was no almost about it. And she’d embarrassed him. Why else would he have been staring at her? What must he have thought? That she was a sad, desperate single mother who hadn’t had sex for a lifetime. He’d made all those polite noises about her looking too young to have a teenage daughter, but Jenna knew it was nonsense. People said that, didn’t they? People said You don’t look thirty, while secretly thinking you looked closer to forty. She shuddered, appalled at the thought that he might be sitting in his consulting room right now, formulating a strategy for keeping her at a distance. She needed to make sure he knew she didn’t have designs on him—that a relationship with a man was right at the bottom of her wish list. She was just trying to survive. Rebuild her life. Knowing she couldn’t afford to think about that now, Jenna concentrated on her patient. ‘I understand that it’s unsettling to have someone new, Mrs Parker, but Evanna has left detailed notes. If you see me doing anything differently, or anything that makes you feel worried, you can tell me.’ ‘You’ve a teenage daughter, I hear?’ Mrs Parker dropped her bag onto the floor and slipped off her shoe. Her tights were the colour of stewed tea and twisted slightly around her ankles. Jenna searched through the choice of dressings available to her, unsure what the surgery stocked. ‘I only stepped off the ferry half an hour ago. Word travels fast.’ ‘Hard to have secrets on Glenmore. We’re a close community.’ ‘That’s why I chose to come here, Mrs Parker.’ That and the fact she hadn’t had much choice. She helped the woman onto the trolley. ‘And I don’t have any secrets.’ ‘Will your husband be joining you later?’ ‘I’m no longer married, Mrs Parker.’ Jenna swiftly removed the old dressing, wondering why saying those words made her feel such a failure. As if to reinforce those feelings, Mrs Parker pressed her lips together in disapproval. ‘I was married for fifty-two years. In those days we sorted out our differences. We didn’t give up.’ Great. Just what she needed. A lecture. Still, she was used to those from her mother. She’d grown up seeing her failings highlighted in neon lights. ‘I admire you, Mrs Parker. I’m just going to check your blood pressure.’ Mrs Parker sniffed her disapproval. ‘I’m here to have the dressing changed.’ ‘I know that. And I’ve already picked out what I’m going to use.’ Reminding herself that building relationships was essential to the smooth running of the practice, Jenna was patient. ‘But it’s important to check your blood pressure every six months or so, and I can see from your notes that it hasn’t been done for a while.’ ‘I don’t see what my blood pressure has to do with the ulcer on my leg.’ ‘Sometimes ulcers can be caused by bad circulation rather than venous problems. I want to do an ankle blood pressure as well as taking it on your arm.’ Mrs Parker relaxed slightly. ‘You obviously know what you’re doing. All right. But I haven’t got all day.’ Jenna checked her blood pressure, reminding herself that she’d always known this move wouldn’t be easy. Not for her, nor Lexi. ‘So you fell pregnant when you were still in school, by the looks of you.’ Mrs Parker’s lips pursed. ‘Still, everyone makes mistakes.’ Jenna carefully recorded the blood pressure readings before she replied. ‘I don’t consider my daughter to be a mistake, Mrs Parker.’ There was a moment of silence and then the old lady gave a chuckle. ‘Capable of standing up for yourself, are you? I like that. You’re obviously a bright girl. Why have you moved all the way up here? You could be in some leading city practice. Or are you running away?’ Jenna sensed that whatever she told this woman would be all over the island by lunchtime, so she delivered an edited version of the truth. ‘My marriage ended. I needed a change. And this place has a good reputation. Logan McNeil has built a good practice.’ She didn’t add that she would have taken the job regardless, because it was as far from Clive and her parents as it was possible to get without leaving the country. ‘Logan is a good doctor. So’s Ryan McKinley, of course. But we all know he won’t be around for long. He’s a real high-flier. Used to work as one of those emergency doctors.’ Emergency doctor? Confused, Jenna paused. ‘How long has he lived here?’ ‘Came here two years ago and bought the old abandoned lighthouse that Ewan Kinaird had given up hope of selling. Too isolated for everyone. But not for Dr McKinley. Apparently isolation was what he wanted, and he paid a fair price for it. Didn’t see him for most of that first year. Turned up occasionally in the village to buy supplies. Kept himself to himself. Never smiled. Some thought he was antisocial. Others thought he was recovering from some trauma or other. Certainly looked grim-faced whenever I glimpsed him.’ Jenna felt guilty for listening. Part of her wanted to cover her ears but she didn’t want to be rude. And she was intrigued by Ryan McKinley. When she’d met him he hadn’t seemed antisocial. Nor had he shown signs of trauma. He’d talked. Smiled. But she knew a smile often hid a secret. ‘So how does he come to be working as a GP?’ ‘That was Evanna’s doing. Won’t let anyone be, that girl—especially not if they’re in trouble. She coaxed him into helping out after the last locum left them in the lurch. She had baby Charlie, and Logan was managing the practice on his own. When he was needed, Ryan stepped up. But we all know he won’t stick. He’ll be off to some high-flying job before the tide has turned.’ Mrs Parker took a closer look at her leg. ‘What’s your professional opinion of this, then?’ ‘I’m just taking a look now.’ Jenna wondered what trauma had made a doctor qualified in emergency medicine buy a secluded lighthouse on an isolated island. ‘How did you find out he was a doctor?’ ‘Oh, he kept it quiet.’ Mrs Parker peered at her leg. ‘But Fiona Grange crashed her car into a ditch in the middle of a storm and he happened to be passing when it happened. Some say he’s the reason she’s alive. Bones smashed, she was unconscious, and the air ambulance couldn’t take off. And there was Dr McKinley, cool as a Glenmore winter, stopping the bleeding, extracting her from the car—shocked everyone, he did. Went from hermit to hero in the blink of an eye. But there was no hiding his profession after that. And he’s been a good doctor, although he’s private. Keeps himself to himself. Some think he’s unfriendly. A bit cold.’ Unfriendly? Jenna thought about the man who had met her at the quay. He hadn’t been unfriendly. Tired, definitely. Guarded, maybe. She would have described him as cool, but not cold. ‘I’m going to take a proper look at your leg now.’ Trying not to think about Ryan McKinley, Jenna washed her hands and opened the dressing pack. ‘Your blood pressure is fine. How long have you had this problem, Mrs Parker?’ ‘I had it last summer and it went away. But then it came back.’ ‘Did you wear your compression stockings?’ She glanced down at the tan stockings that had been placed neatly on the chair. ‘Not as much as I’m supposed to.’ ‘They’re not that comfortable, I know.’ Jenna cleaned the wound and dressed it. ‘That does look sore, you poor thing. Are you in a lot of pain?’ Mrs Parker relaxed slightly. ‘I’m old. I’m always in pain. My bones ache every morning. The Glenmore winter is bitter. Like having your leg in the jaws of a shark.’ ‘I’ve only ever been here in the summer. My grandparents used to bring me. Tell me if this feels too tight.’ Jenna bandaged the leg, applying most pressure to the ankle and gradually less towards the knee and thigh. ‘Try and keep your leg up before you come and have that dressing changed next week. Have you tried putting a couple of pillows under your mattress? The aim is to let gravity pull the fluid and blood towards the heart. It will reduce the swelling. Can you move your ankle?’ ‘Yes. You’ve done a good job,’ Mrs Parker said grudgingly. She stood up and put her stockings back on with Jenna’s help. Then she reached for her bag. ‘That dressing feels very comfortable, actually. But tell Evanna I’m sorry to have missed her.’ ‘I’ll do that.’ Jenna watched as Mrs Parker walked slowly down the corridor, and then returned to the computer to type up the notes, sinking into the chair, exhausted. This was a huge mistake. She should have just bought a new flat in London, then she could have stayed in her job and Lexi could have stayed in her school. Instead she’d chosen a small island where strangers were viewed with suspicion and where her life was going to be lived under a microscope. She was an idiot. Forcing herself to take several deep breaths, Jenna reminded herself that it was natural for the islanders to be wary of a new nurse. She just had to earn their trust. Or maybe she should just buy another ferry ticket and get off this island as fast as possible. She sank her head into her hands, and then sat up quickly as she heard a rap on the door. Ryan walked in. ‘I owe you an apology. I had no idea Mrs Parker was your first patient. Talk about baptism of fire.’ Somewhere between meeting her on the quay and starting his surgery he’d shaved and changed. The faded jeans had been replaced by smart trousers and the comfortable tee shirt by a tailored shirt. In the confines of her consulting room he seemed taller. And broader. Suddenly she had no trouble imagining him as a high-powered consultant in a busy emergency department. Her throat suddenly felt dry. ‘Yes, she was my first patient.’ ‘You’re still alive?’ Oh, yes. She knew she was alive because she could feel her heart banging hard against her chest. ‘We did OK.’ ‘But now you want to resign?’ His voice was dry. ‘You’re about to buy a return ferry ticket and run back to London?’ Jenna sat rigid, terrified that he’d guessed how bad she felt. ‘No.’ Her voice was bright. ‘I’m not even remotely tempted to run away.’ His smile faded and his gaze sharpened. ‘I was joking.’ ‘Oh.’ She turned scarlet. ‘Of course you were joking. Sorry. I’m a bit tired after the journey.’ ‘The last nurse we appointed lasted three days. Didn’t Evanna tell you?’ ‘She did mention something. Don’t worry, Dr McKinley. I’m not a quitter.’ Jenna said it firmly, reminding herself of that fact. ‘And Mrs Parker was fine.’ ‘I know Mrs Parker, so you must be lying.’ Yes, she was and it seemed that these days she spent her life lying. Even her smile was a lie. ‘Mrs Parker was wary at seeing someone new, and that’s normal—especially at her age. She doesn’t like change. I understand that.’ Jenna concentrated on the computer, thinking that she was finding change terrifying and she was several decades younger than Mrs Parker. ‘That leg of hers is slow to heal.’ Jenna thought about the old lady—remembered how much had been said in a short time. ‘I don’t know her, but at a guess I’d say she doesn’t really want it to heal. She’s lonely. Her leg gives her a reason to come up here and interact with people.’ ‘That’s possible.’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Despite your college-girl looks, you’re obviously very sharp.’ Accustomed to thinking of herself as ‘past it’, his compliment made her feel strange. Or maybe it hadn’t been a compliment. ‘I’m interested in people. I like looking for the reasons they do things. It’s why I do the job.’ Even as she said the words she realised the flaw in that theory. If she was so interested in why people did what they did, why hadn’t she spotted the signs that her husband was cheating on her? Maybe she wasn’t so observant after all. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to see what was under her nose. Feeling the tension erupt inside her, Jenna hit a button on the computer and exited Mrs Parker’s file, wishing she could control her thinking. She had to stop asking ‘what if?’ She had to move on. That was what she was doing here, wasn’t it? She was wiping out the past. ‘Why do you do the job, Dr McKinley?’ Would he tell her that he was an emergency specialist in hiding? He was leaning against the wall, his broad shoulders threatening the safety of the asthma poster stuck to the wall. ‘At the moment I can’t remember. You’d better ask me that question again when I haven’t been up for half the night doing calls. I’m always in a snarly mood when I get less than three hours’ sleep.’ ‘That’s understandable. Could you sneak off and sleep at some point today?’ ‘Unfortunately, no. Like I said to you on the quay—it’s just the four of us. When we’re busy, we’re busy. We can’t hand it over.’ ‘Who called you out last night? Locals or tourists?’ ‘One tourist with chest pains, a toddler with a febrile convulsion, and one of our own with a very nasty asthma attack.’ He frowned. ‘I called the mother a few moments ago to check on her and she told me the child is still asleep, but I’m going to call in later. I didn’t like the look of her in the night. I gather you have an interest in asthma?’ ‘Yes. I ran a clinic in London.’ Jenna was interested. ‘Was there an obvious trigger? Did she have an infection or something?’ ‘They’d got themselves a dog from the rescue centre. I’m assuming it was that.’ ‘They didn’t know that animal fur was a trigger?’ Jenna pulled a face, understanding the ramifications of that statement. ‘So is the dog being returned?’ ‘It’s a strong possibility. They’re thinking about it, but obviously the child will be upset.’ ‘It would be wonderful to have a dog,’ Jenna said wistfully, and then sat up straight, slightly shocked by herself. A dog? Where had that thought come from? Why on earth would she want a dog? ‘Maybe you could give this one a home?’ Jenna automatically shook her head. ‘We can’t have a dog. Cl—’ She was about to say that Clive hated animals, but then she remembered that she wasn’t married to Clive any more. His opinion didn’t matter. Glancing down at her left hand, she stared at the pale line on her finger that was the only remaining evidence that she’d once worn a ring. It still felt strange, seeing the finger bare. And it still brought a sting to the back of her throat. ‘Something wrong?’ His question made her jump. ‘No. I was just thinking about your little asthma patient and the dog.’ ‘Right.’ His gaze locked onto hers and she looked away quickly, thinking that Ryan McKinley was nothing like the men she usually met during her working day. For a start he was about two decades younger than the GPs she’d worked with in her last practice. She tried to imagine any of them extracting a seriously injured girl from the wreck of a car during a storm without the help of paramedics—and failed. Ryan McKinley was a different breed of doctor. And then there was the fact that he was indecently good-looking. Sexy. A different breed of man. ‘You look really stressed out.’ Ryan spoke quietly. ‘Is that Mrs Parker’s doing? Or is it being thrown in at the deep end?’ ‘No! Not at all.’ Oh, God, he’d noticed that she was stressed. And the one thing she absolutely couldn’t afford to do was put a foot wrong in this job. ‘I love being thrown in at the deep end. Anyway, I didn’t ask why you were here. Did you want to talk to me? Is there something I can help you with, Dr McKinley?’ Please don’t let him say he’d changed his mind about hiring her. ‘I wondered if you could take some bloods for me.’ Ryan handed her a form, his eyes still on her face. ‘Callum is fifteen and he’s showing all the signs of glandular fever. I know you already have a full clinic, but I really need these results as soon as possible.’ ‘Of course you do.’ As she took the form from him, Jenna’s fingers brushed against his. She immediately snatched her hand away, feeling as though she’d touched a live wire. ‘I’ll do them straight away.’ Without thinking, she rubbed her fingers, wondering whether she was doomed to overreact around this man. ‘He’s in the waiting room with his mum.’ Ryan was looking at her fingers, and Jenna swallowed and dropped her hands into her lap. ‘Fine. Great. I’ll call him.’ ‘I appreciate it.’ There was a tension about him that hadn’t been there before. ‘Your bikes have been delivered, by the way. I had them taken straight to the cottage. They’ll be safe enough outside your front door.’ ‘Bikes?’ Jenna had to force herself to concentrate. ‘Bikes. Yes, of course. Evanna told me about this place that hires them for the summer, so I rang them. I thought it would be good for both of us to cycle.’ ‘I’m impressed. It’s a good example to set to the patients.’ ‘So you’ll try not to knock me off my bike when you’re accelerating past in your Porsche?’ He gave a faint smile as he strolled towards the door. ‘Are you accusing me of speeding or being a couch potato?’ ‘Neither. I’m sure you’re very fit.’ Her eyes slid to the hard muscle of his shoulders, clearly outlined by the smooth fabric of his casual shirt. Damn, she shouldn’t have used the word fit. Wasn’t that the word Lexi used when she found a boy attractive? ‘I mean, you’re obviously athletic—I mean, health-conscious—sorry, just ignore me…’ Jenna had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her, but when she looked at him his expression was unreadable. ‘Why would I want to ignore you?’ ‘Because I’m talking nonsense—’ And he was super-cool, hyper-intelligent and nothing like the men she usually dealt with. She had no trouble believing Mrs Parker’s assertion that he was a top doctor. He had an air of authority and command that she found mildly intimidating. ‘The bikes will be great.’ ‘Does Lexi know you’ve ordered bikes?’ ‘Not yet.’ She didn’t know which impressed her more, the fact that he’d remembered her daughter’s name or his uncannily accurate assessment of her character. ‘Light the touch paper and stand well back. Which reminds me; I owe you an apology for her behaviour earlier.’ ‘What do you have to apologise for?’ ‘Lexi. She—’ Jenna didn’t want to reveal personal details, but she was unable to bear the thought he might think badly of her daughter. ‘She’s very mixed up at the moment. She didn’t want to move from our home in London. It’s been hard on her.’ He was silent for a moment, considering her words. She had a nasty feeling that he knew just how close to the edge she was. ‘Glenmore has a very calming effect on people. It’s a good place to escape.’ ‘Lexi didn’t want to leave London.’ ‘Perhaps your needs are greater than hers at the moment,’ he said gently. ‘Does Lexi know you’re living in a cottage on the beach?’ ‘No. There’s only so much bad news that she can take at one time. She’s going to hate me for not renting a house in the village.’ ‘That’s not exactly a hub for entertainment, either.’ He opened the door. ‘When you’ve finished your clinic, knock on my door. I’ll take you and your luggage over there.’ ‘I don’t expect you to do that. If you have any spare time, you need to sleep.’ ‘I’ll give you a lift.’ He hesitated, his hand on the door. ‘Give it a few weeks before you buy that ferry ticket. I predict that in no time this place will feel like home.’ He knew. He knew how bad she felt. She’d done a lousy job at hiding her feelings. He knew she was panicking and having second thoughts. Horrified that he was clearly aware of how close she was to breaking, Jenna just sat there, not trusting herself to speak. Their eyes held, and then he gave a brief nod. ‘Welcome to Glenmore, Jenna. We’re very pleased to have you here.’ Ryan stood in front of his colleague, legs spread, hands dug in his back pockets. ‘Tell me about Jenna.’ ‘Jenna?’ Logan McNeil signed a prescription and glanced up, his expression interested. ‘Why? Was it love at first sight? Your eyes met across a crowded ferry ramp?’ Remembering the flash of chemistry, Ryan rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. ‘Just give me the facts, Logan.’ Logan put his pen down. ‘She’s been working as a practice nurse in England for the past six years, but I’m not holding that against her. Why are you asking? Has she killed a patient or something?’ ‘I’m worried about her.’ ‘Isn’t that a little premature? She’s been here for five minutes.’ And he’d been worried about her within thirty seconds of meeting her. She’d looked fragile and battered, as though she’d emerged from a terrible storm. ‘Evanna asked me to meet her, remember? She looks as though she’s holding it together by a thread.’ Suddenly Logan wasn’t smiling. ‘You’re worried about her ability to do the job?’ ‘No. She handled Mrs Parker, which proves she’s more than capable of doing the job. I’m worried about her!’ Ryan shot him an impatient look. ‘What do you know about her personal circumstances?’ With a sigh, Logan opened his drawer and pulled out a file. Scanning the papers, he paused. ‘Divorced with a teenage daughter. That’s all it says.’ Divorced. Ryan prowled to the window of Logan’s consulting room and stared across the fields. Remembering the white circle on her ring finger, he was willing to bet the divorce was recent. Was that why she was so pale and drawn? Divorce did that to people, didn’t it? Was that why she jumped when a man touched her? ‘Was her ex-husband abusive?’ ‘I have absolutely no idea. This is her CV, not a police statement. Are you sure you’re not going a little over the top here? You seem very concerned about someone you only met a few hours ago.’ Ryan turned. ‘She’s a colleague,’ he said evenly. ‘It’s in our interest to make sure she’s happy here.’ ‘And that’s all that’s going on here?’ Logan closed the file. ‘You seem very interested in her.’ ‘I didn’t say I was interested. I said it was in our interest to make sure she’s happy.’ ‘Good. Then I’ll leave it to you to make sure she is.’ Logan pushed the file back in the drawer. ‘Plenty of people get divorced, Ryan. It’s a fact of life in our society. It doesn’t mean she has problems. You could be barking up the wrong tree. Has she seen the cottage yet?’ ‘I’m taking her at the end of morning surgery.’ ‘Let’s just hope she likes isolation, otherwise we’ll be looking for a new practice nurse. Ted Walker has a flat vacant in the village if you think that would be better.’ ‘I know she’s going to like the cottage.’ He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. She was running—wounded—looking for a place to hide and recover. And the cottage was the perfect place for her. Whether her teenager daughter would survive the isolation was another matter. Chapter Three IT WAS the prettiest house she’d ever seen—one of four fishermen’s cottages facing the sea, their front gardens leading straight down to a sandy beach. The iron gate was rusty and creaked as she pushed it open, but Jenna felt a sudden feeling of calm and contentment. No more endless traffic jams and road rage. No more rush hour. No more litter on the streets and graffiti on the walls. Just open space, fresh air, and the sound of the sea. It was perfect. Lexi gave a whimper of horror. ‘This is it? It’s the smallest house I’ve ever seen.’ Jenna felt the tension return to her stomach. ‘Small, yes, but it’s ours.’As long as she kept the job. The house came with the job. They had a home again. And it would be cheap to run. Lexi was gaping at the tiny cottage. ‘A whole summer here?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You can’t swing a cat.’ ‘We don’t have a cat.’ But they might have a dog. She’d been thinking about it ever since Ryan McKinley had mentioned the idea. Lexi closed her eyes. ‘Just kill me now,’ she muttered, and Jenna searched for something to say that would cheer her up. ‘Don’t you think this is better than London?’ ‘Tell me that isn’t a serious question—’ Jenna sighed. They’d come this far. They had to keep moving forward. She walked up the path to the front door, her eyes scanning the pretty garden. She noticed a few weeds and her hands itched. It would be fun, she mused, to have a proper garden. Lexi stared desperately at the house and then at the beach. ‘Where’s the nearest shop?’ ‘Walk straight down the road and you reach the harbour. If it’s low tide you can walk along the beach.’ Ryan strode up the path behind them, carrying both suitcases. He deposited them on the ground, gently removed the key from Jenna’s hand and opened the door of the cottage. ‘Sorry—I was miles away.’ Jenna gave a smile of apology. ‘It’s so long since I had a garden. Our house in London just had a courtyard. I’m not used to so much outdoor space.’ Enchanted, she stooped and touched some of the pretty pink flowers that clustered by the door. ‘Armeria maritima.’ Ryan raised his eyebrows, apparently amused. ‘You’re quoting the Latin names of plants at me?’ ‘My mother was a botanist. I grew up hearing Latin names. Some of them stuck.’ She touched the flower with the tip of her finger. ‘Sea pinks. They grow well in this climate, by the coast.’ Lexi rolled her eyes. ‘Gosh, Mum, gripping stuff.’ Jenna flushed and stood up. ‘Sorry. It’s just so wonderful to have a garden.’ Despite the knot in her stomach she felt better, and she was in no hurry to go indoors. Instead she breathed in the sea air and watched the plants waving in the breeze. The grass needed cutting, and there were weeds in the borders, but somehow that just added to the charm. She imagined herself lying on a rug on a warm Sunday morning, listening to the gulls and reading the paper. When had she ever done that? Sundays were normally so busy, what with making a traditional Sunday roast for Clive and his mother, and then being expected to produce tea for the cricket club… Aware that Ryan was watching her, Jenna flushed. She felt as though he could read her every thought, and that was disturbing because some of the thoughts she’d been having about him were definitely best kept private. ‘When Evanna told me that the job came with a house, I never imagined it would be anywhere as perfect as this. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave here. Who owns it?’ ‘Kyla—Logan’s sister. Her husband, Ethan, was offered a job in the States. They’ll be back at some point.’ But not soon. Please don’t let it be soon. A warm feeling spread through her, and for the first time since she’d left London Jenna felt a flicker of hope. Excitement. As if this might be the right decision after all. She felt as if she belonged. She felt at home. It’s—so peaceful.’ A gull shrieked above her and she laughed as she caught Ryan’s eye. ‘Well, not peaceful, perhaps, but the noises are different. Good noises. No car horns and revving engines. And everything is slow. I’m looking forward to just being still.’ Realising that she probably sounded ridiculous, Jenna shrugged awkwardly. ‘In London everything moves so fast. You get swept along with it so that sometimes you can’t even take a breath—I hate the pace of it.’ ‘That’s because you’re so old, Mum.’ Lexi fiddled with her phone. ‘London was exciting. And our house was lovely.’ ‘London was noisy and smelly and our house was far too big for the two of us.’ It was what she’d told herself when she’d realised that their house had been sold and she and Lexi no longer had a home. It was the only way she had coped. Pushing away that thought, Jenna stepped into the hallway of the cottage. They had a home now, and she loved it. Light reflected off the polished wooden floor, and through an open door she could see a bright, cheerful kitchen. ‘We lived right next to an underground station and every three minutes the house shook.’ ‘Yeah, it was so cool.’ Lexi tossed her hair away from her face, her eyes still on her mobile phone. ‘I was never more than ten minutes from the shops.’ But Jenna wasn’t thinking about shopping. It seemed far away. And so did Clive and the whole sordid mess she’d left behind. ‘This place is wonderful. We can have our breakfast outside on that little table.’ She turned to look at the pretty garden, eyes slightly misty, imagination running free. ‘Lexi, you can go for a swim, or a run on the beach.’ How could this be a mistake? Maybe she hadn’t done the wrong thing. They could be happy here—she felt it. Lexi shot her a look of incredulous disbelief and checked her mobile phone. ‘No signal again. How do people function around here?’ ‘You can usually get a signal if you walk up the hill towards the castle.’ Ryan lifted their suitcases into the hallway and Lexi gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Fine. If the only place I can use my phone is at the top of a hill then I’m going to have to walk up it!’ Making a frustrated sound in her throat, she stalked away. Jenna opened her mouth to say be careful and then closed it again, leaving the words unspoken. She knew from experience that too much maternal anxiety was counterproductive. But the guilt was back, eating away at her like acid, corroding her insides. She might have fallen in love with the cottage, but she knew this wasn’t what Lexi wanted. ‘It must be hard, letting them grow up.’ Ryan was standing in the doorway, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his trousers, a speculative look in his blue eyes as he watched her. ‘You have no idea.’ Keeping her tone light, Jenna walked past him into the garden, her gaze on Lexi as her daughter sauntered across the road and started up the hill. A dozen nightmare scenarios sped through her overactive maternal brain. To control them, she used black humour. Say it aloud and it might not happen. ‘Are there any scary, dangerous individuals at large on Glenmore at the moment?’ ‘Well, you’ve already met Mrs Parker—they don’t come much scarier or more dangerous than her. She’s wanted in five counties.’ His arm brushed against hers and Jenna felt her whole body tingle. She stepped away from him, keeping her distance as she would from an electric fence. ‘I was thinking more of axe-wielding murderers and rapists.’ ‘We had dozens of those last summer, but Mrs Parker saw them off. It’s hard to commit a crime in a community that knows what you’re planning to eat for supper.’ As Lexi’s figure grew smaller, and then vanished from sight, Jenna felt a moment of panic. Catching his eye, she gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Yes, I know—I’m overreacting. It’s hard to forget this isn’t London. You must think I’m crazy. I think I’m crazy!’ ‘That isn’t what I’m thinking.’ ‘It would be if you knew what was going through my mind. It’s taking all my will-power not to charge after her and follow her up that hill.’ His gaze shifted from her face to where Lexi had disappeared. ‘I don’t know much about teenagers, but at a guess I’d say that probably isn’t the best idea.’ ‘Well, I’d have to be discreet, of course.’ She made a joke of it. ‘I’d probably start by sprinting up the hill and then drop to my stomach and crawl so that she couldn’t see me.’ ‘You’re going to have a hell of a job beating off an axe-wielding murderer if you’re crawling on your stomach.’ ‘Never underestimate a mother protecting her young.’ ‘I’ll remember that.’ He had a deep voice. Deep and male, with a slightly husky timbre that made her think things she hadn’t thought for a long time. Jenna breathed in slowly and stared at the ridge, trying not to think about his voice. ‘I can’t believe she made it up there so quickly. Lexi isn’t really into exercise. It’s amazing what the lure of a mobile phone signal can do to cure teenage lethargy. I hope she’ll be OK.’ Ryan turned to her, and she noticed that the passing hours had darkened his jaw again. ‘She’s crossed the only road and she’s still alive. She’ll be fine. I’m not so sure about you.’ Her gaze met his and their eyes held. The rhythm of her heart altered and the oxygen was sucked from the air. The world shrank to this one place—this one man. Everything else was forgotten. Mesmerised by those blue eyes, Jenna felt her body come to life, like the slow, sensual unfolding of a bud under the heat of the sun. Not the sultry, languid heat of summer sunshine but the fierce, rapacious scorch of sexual awareness. Like a volcano too long dormant after centuries of sleep, it exploded violently—blowing the lid on everything she believed herself to be. Excitement ripped through her like a consuming, ravenous fire, and in her newly sensitised state she found staring longingly at the firm lines of his mouth. If she wanted to kiss him, she could… She was a free woman now. The shriek of a seagull brought her to her senses and Jenna took a step backwards. What on earth was she thinking? If she did something crazy, like kissing him, he’d fire her from her job, Lexi would have a nervous breakdown, and she’d be more of an emotional wreck than she was already. And anyway, if she hadn’t been able to trust someone she’d known for fifteen years, what chance was there with someone she’d known for fifteen minutes? Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/sarah-morgan/dare-she-date-the-dreamy-doc/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.