The Rebel Doctor's Bride

‘I’m trying to apologise. I didn’t mean to be rude. It was just that…’ She gave an awkward shrug. ‘Anyway, I really am sorry.’

‘Never apologise, Flora.’

‘If I’m wrong, then I apologise,’ she said firmly. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I don’t know.’ Enjoying himself, he smiled. ‘I’ve never been wrong.’

Derailed by the banter, she backed away slightly and then stopped. ‘I’m apologising for assuming that you weren’t qualified for the job. For thinking that you being here would just cause trouble.’

‘It will cause trouble,’ Conner drawled softly, ‘so you weren’t wrong.’

‘You knew it would cause trouble?’

‘Of course.’

His answer brought a puzzled frown to her face. ‘If you knew that, why did you come back?’

‘I thrive on trouble, Flora. Trouble is the fuel the drives my engine.’

This time, instead of backing away, she looked at him. Properly. Her eyes focused on his, as if she was searching for something. ‘You’re angry with us, aren’t you? Is that why you’re here?’ She fiddled with her glasses again, as if she wasn’t used to having them on her nose. ‘To level a score?’

‘You think I became a doctor so that I could return to my roots and exterminate the inhabitants of Glenmore, one by one?’

‘Of course not. But I know you’re angry. I can feel it.’

Then she was more intuitive than he’d thought. Raising his guard, Conner watched her. ‘I’m not angry. If people would rather wait a week to see Logan, that’s fine by me.’

‘But it must hurt your feelings.’

‘I don’t have feelings, Flora. Providing I still get paid, I don’t care whether the patients see me or not. It’s Logan’s problem.’ He could tell she didn’t like his answer because she frowned and shook her head slightly.

‘I can’t believe that you’re not at all sensitive about the way people react to you.’

‘That’s because you’re a woman and women think differently to men.’ This time his smile was genuine. ‘Do I look sensitive?’ He watched as her eyes drifted to his shoulders and then lifted to his jaw line.

‘No.’Her voice was hoarse. ‘You don’t.’ And then her eyes lifted to his and the atmosphere snapped taut.

Conner felt his body stir.

Well, well, he thought. How interesting. Sexual chemistry with a woman who probably didn’t know the meaning of the phrase. His gaze lowered to her mouth and he saw that her lips were soft and bare of make-up. He had a sudden impulse to be unforgivably shocking and kiss her.

‘Well, if you’re sure you’re fine…’ She was flustered. He could tell she was flustered.

Normally he had no qualms about making a woman flustered but somehow with Flora it seemed unsporting. She might be older but she obviously wasn’t any more experienced. With an inner sigh and lingering regret, he backed off. ‘I’m fine,’ he said gently. ‘But thank you for asking.’

He wondered idly if she’d ever had sex.

A boyfriend?

‘My consulting room is next door.’ Apparently unaware of what had just happened between them, she suddenly became brisk and efficient. ‘Evanna is still doing a morning clinic, but if you need a nurse to do a home visit then ask me because she’s too pregnant to be dashing around the island. You know your way around, so that shouldn’t be a problem. If there’s anything you’re not sure of, ask.’

‘I’ll do that.’

If she had a boyfriend, it was someone tame and safe, he decided. Someone who hadn’t taught her the meaning of passion.

‘Well—I’ve held you up long enough. Morning surgery can be a long one.’ Her gaze slid to his legs, encased in black leather. ‘You know, people might feel more comfortable with you if you changed.’

‘I am who I am, Flora.’

‘I meant your clothes.’ She pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. ‘You could change your clothes.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘Because the patients expect a doctor to look like a doctor.’

‘Flora.’ He failed to keep the amusement out of his voice. ‘It wouldn’t matter whether I was wearing a set of theatre scrubs or a white coat, the inhabitants of Glenmore would still struggle to believe that Bad Conner is a doctor. Just as you’re struggling.’

‘I’m not. Not any more. But I don’t see why you should confirm their prejudices by dressing like a biker.’ She flushed. ‘Do you always have to antagonise people? Break the rules?’

‘Yes. I think I probably do.’ Conner watched her. ‘Just as you always like to please people and do everything that is expected of you. In our own ways we’re the same, you and I. We’re both working hard to meet society’s expectations of us.’

She looked at him, her dark eyes reproachful. ‘There’s nothing wrong in being part of a community.’

‘True. But neither is there anything wrong with not being part of it,’ he said gently. ‘Do you really think the way I’m dressed is going to compromise my ability as a doctor?’

‘No. Of course not. It’s just that you look—’ She broke off and he knew he shouldn’t follow up on that comment but he couldn’t help himself.

‘How do I look, Flora? Tell me. I want to know what you think of the way I look.’

She looked hot and flustered. ‘I-intimidating,’ she stammered, eventually. ‘I wouldn’t want to bump into you on a dark night.’

‘Is that right?’ Conner gave a slow smile and gave up trying to subdue his wicked streak. ‘In that case, we’ll have to make sure that we leave the lights on, angel.’

He was impossible and she was never going to be able to work with him.

Flora tried to concentrate on the dressing and not reveal how shaken she was by her encounter with Conner. He’d played with her, toyed with her carelessly, like a predator having fun with its prey before a kill. And as usual she hadn’t been able to think of the right thing to say because she’d been trying to sort out surgery business and he’d been—well, he’d been Conner. Selfish, indifferent and supremely cool. Just the thought of him seeing patients—or not seeing patients—in the room next door unsettled her.

She shook her head and studied the skin around the leg ulcer. ‘You still have a degree of varicose eczema, Mrs Parker. Are you using the cream Dr MacNeil gave you?’

‘The steroid cream? No, I forget.’

Flora studied the skin, checking for infection. ‘Is this tender when I press?’

‘No more than usual.’

‘There’s no erythema and your temperature is fine.’ Talking to herself, Flora made a judgement. ‘We’ll leave it for now but do me a favour and try the cream, would you? If it isn’t looking better in a week or so, I’m going to ask one of the doctors to look at it.’

‘As long as it’s Logan.’ Mrs Parker’s mouth clamped in a thin line of disapproval. ‘I’m not afraid to say that I almost fainted dead away when I saw Conner MacNeil stroll into the surgery this morning. Bold as brass. Not even trying to hide his face.’