Sarah Morgan Summer Collection

‘You want me to answer that?’

‘Don’t start, you two,’ Evanna said hastily, sending an apologetic glance towards Ethan. ‘You mustn’t mind them. It’s just brother-sister stuff. They’re always the same. They bicker and needle. You get used to it after a time. They adore each other really.’

There was no answering smile on Ethan’s face and Kyla frowned slightly as she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the tension in his broad shoulders. Oops, she thought to herself. Trouble there. There was a bleakness and a shadow in his eyes that made her wonder and want to ask questions. Did he object to humour in the workplace? Surely not.

She caught Logan’s eye and he shot her a warning look. ‘Mind your own business,’ he murmured softly in Gaelic, and she smiled and replied in the same tongue.

‘Perhaps I’m wondering whether to make him my business.’

Logan rolled his eyes and stood up, switching to English. ‘Women. I’ll never understand them.’

‘Well, that’s perfectly obvious,’ Kyla muttered, her eyes sliding to Evanna. ‘But don’t give up trying. Believe me, you need the practice.’

‘I’m practising on my daughter. Talking of which, if we’ve finished here I’m going to spend an hour with the girl in my life who should be just about waking up from her nap and ready to dress herself in her lunch. Ethan, I’d invite you to join us but you’d end up covered in puréed vegetables. Take some time to settle in. My sister will show you the cottage we’ve arranged for you. I hope it suits. It’s only a short drive from here. If you need anything, you’ve only to ask.’

Kyla watched as some of the wariness left Ethan’s handsome face. ‘Do you want me to do the house call so you can spend more time with the baby?’

‘No need.’ Logan shook his head. ‘I’ll take her with me. Helen McNair has been asking to see her.’

Kyla gave a soft smile. ‘That’s a clever idea, Logan MacNeil. Give her something else to focus on.’

‘She’s had a hard time lately. It will be good to spend some time with her. And she makes the best chocolate cake on the island.’ Logan strode across the reception area towards the door that separated the surgery from his house.

Kyla turned to Ethan with a smile. ‘Are you ready for another trip in my car?’

‘That was an exciting morning.’ Ethan unravelled himself from the car and followed Kyla down a path that led towards a pair of cottages. The sea stretched ahead of them and he breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool, salty breeze and the freshness of the air. ‘Is it always like that?’

‘Sometimes.’ She pushed open a gate and held it while he followed her through. ‘It’s often all or nothing. You were good.’

‘Was it a test?’

‘No. But if it had been, you would have passed.’ She let the gate swing shut and tilted her head to one side as she studied him. ‘Don’t be angry with me. Working on this island isn’t for everyone. We see everything here, and we’re the first line of defence. Does that worry you?’

‘No.’ What worried him was the hot flare of lust he felt whenever he looked at her. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on the view of the bay. ‘It’s spectacular. Who lives here usually?’

‘Holiday let. The cottage is usually rented out for the whole of the summer season but Nick Hillier who owns it had a bad experience last year.’ Kyla fumbled for the keys and opened the front door. ‘A group from London had a bit of a wild party and left the place wrecked. So he decided that this summer he’d let it to the locum doctor. He’s assuming that, with all those letters after your name, you’ll know how to behave yourself.’

‘I’ll do my best.’ Ethan strolled into the cottage behind her, trying to ignore her delicious scent and the incredible shine of her honey-blonde hair. ‘Who’s Nick Hillier?’

‘Our policeman. I went to school with him. He used to tie my plaits together.’

For some reason that he couldn’t identify, this piece of news simply racked up the tension inside him and Ethan drew in a breath and rolled his shoulders. He needed a swim. A run. Anything to drive the unwanted thoughts and images from his head.

He watched as she threw open doors and windows, letting in light and air. She was obviously an outdoor sort of person. ‘Did you go to school with everyone on the island?’

‘Not everyone, but most of the people of around my age who were born here. It’s a small community. Mind you, that can be a disadvantage. I sometimes think Ann Carne still sees me as the little horror who led the strike against school dinners.’ She turned and smiled and he felt a vicious kick of lust deep inside him.

Her pretty smile faded and was replaced by something entirely different as they stared at each other.

Back off, Ethan, he warned himself grimly. Not now. And not this woman.

That wasn’t why he was there.

‘You led a strike against school dinners?’ He saw from the slightly questioning look in her eyes that she’d picked up on the rough tone of his voice.

‘I was a fussy eater. I protested loudly about everything they put in front of me and I expected everyone else to protest, too. I told all the other children to fold their arms and refuse to eat until they produced something decent.’

He could imagine her doing it. Imagine her with those sapphire-blue eyes flashing and that chin lifted in defiance. ‘And how old were you?’

‘Five.’ She smiled without a trace of apology. ‘My mother said she’d never been so embarrassed. They called her down to the school. I was given such a talking-to.’

Ethan found himself smiling, too. ‘And did you eat your dinner after that?’

‘No. I used to scrape it into my napkin and then hide the evidence.’

‘And they never found out?’

‘Sadly, they did.’ Kyla opened a door and walked ahead of him into a beautiful glass-fronted living room, her feet echoing on the pale wooden floor. ‘But only because I was stupid enough to slide it into Miss Carne’s handbag on one occasion. I think it was lasagne or something really sloppy. Vile. I’m surprised I wasn’t expelled. After that, they watched me eat.’

‘I don’t blame them.’ He glanced around him in surprise. ‘This is nice.’

‘You should have seen it two years ago. Complete wreck. It had been lived in by the same man for about ninety years. After he bought it, Nick spent every weekend doing it up. We all helped.’ She walked over to the window and stared out across the sea. ‘He was lucky to get it. There was a lot of competition because this is one of the best spots on the island.’

‘So why didn’t you try and buy it?’

‘I didn’t need to.’ She turned to look at him, amusement in her eyes. ‘I own the place next door. You might want to remember that before you run naked into the waves for your morning swim, Dr Walker. Or are you southerners too wimpy to take a plunge into the Atlantic?’

Was she challenging him? He held her gaze with his own. ‘I swim well.’

Her eyes slid to his shoulders, as if she were assessing the truth of his quiet statement and suddenly the tension in the air snapped as tight as a bow and Ethan felt something dangerous stir inside him.

‘So this place is mine for the duration of my stay?’ His voice was hoarse and he cursed himself. Could she feel it, too? Was she aware of the sudden change in the atmosphere?

‘It’s yours for as long as you want it. When you leave it will be winter and no one but the locals brave this island come November.’ She watched him for a moment and then walked over to the French doors, her movements as smooth and graceful as those of a dancer. But then she lifted a hand to touch a switch and he saw that her fingers were shaking. ‘Flick this to the right and the doors open. The garden leads down to the beach. Just make sure you close the doors if there’s a storm or you’ll be sweeping the sand from your living room for weeks.’

‘Storm?’ Ethan fixed his gaze on the perfect blue sky. He needed to stay away from her. Far, far away.

‘Jim, the ferryman, mentioned storms. It’s pretty calm today. Hard to imagine the place in a storm.’

‘You won’t have to imagine it because you’re going to see it soon enough.’ Kyla gave a soft laugh. ‘I hope you like your weather wild, Dr Walker, and I hope you’re not afraid of storms. Because anything you’ve seen up until now will be nothing compared to this island in the grip of a seething temper.’

‘I don’t scare easily.’ He turned, unable to be in the same room and not look at her. ‘How about you, Kyla MacNeil? Do you scare easily? Do you take risks?’ He was playing with fire. Testing her. He saw from the fierce glint in her blue eyes that she knew it.

‘Life is there to be lived to the full. I was born on this island and it’s part of who I am. Nothing about it frightens me. Not the storms. Not the isolation.’ And not you, her eyes said, and he felt a flicker of envy.

What would it be like, Ethan wondered bleakly, to be so sure of everything? To live somewhere that felt like home?

The letter was still in his pocket and suddenly he wanted to read it again. To try and understand.