Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor?. Fiona McArthur
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her. ‘Your throne, madam.’
She could feel the hairs on her arms respond to his nearness. Visceral response. Pheromones. This wasn’t good. She wanted flirtation, not irreversible fascination. Please, not that sort of happy. Her eyes met his and she didn’t smile. ‘I’m your dinner partner, not your date.’
Snap. Reality bit. Harry was silent as he sat down and then picked up his fork to examine it. Carefully—while he let her words sink in. Nice fork. Silver with three tines. Not much of interest there. ‘Got it. No chairs held. And I’ll have no deep and meaningful conversations from you either,’ he joked, but there was an underlying truth in his words.
He glanced up and caught the fiercely guarded expression on her face. She was as bad as him. Funny how he’d never realised how bad he was. ‘What about car doors? Did that offend you?’ He saw her face tighten even more.
She closed her eyes and held up her hands and he could foresee the moment when she’d say she shouldn’t have come.
Panic flared in her eyes and he cursed his stupidity.
Some bloke had done a doozy on her. Oops, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He accepted the message and tapped the table so she looked at him. He tried selling his smile again. ‘I’m sorry.’
That was when he realised he didn’t know her name. Pleasant and non-threatening dinner conversation coming up. ‘I really don’t want to eat alone. But what shall I call you?’
Bonnie forced herself to calm down. Panic weakened defences and that was the last thing she wanted. Her name? Now, there was a dilemma. She had this stupid urge to make up a name, something wildly outrageous that he’d know wasn’t real, so it didn’t cause problems but would maintain distance in case she needed more space than he was willing to give.
Brain vacuum didn’t help. ‘Bonnie.’
‘So tell me, Bonnie …’ He paused and she smiled to herself because it was plain he didn’t believe that really was her name. Delicious.
‘Are you in Bali long?’ He sat back in his chair with a little smile curving his lips. Good grief, he had gorgeous lips.
She blinked. ‘A week. Then I start a new job.’
‘So what’s your new job?’ When he leaned back his shirt stretched over his chest and her mouth dried.
She tried to unobtrusively rustle up some saliva so she could answer. ‘Outreach nursing, at Ayers Rock. I’m a registered nurse and midwife and do short stints in isolated places.’
A strange expression crossed his face so fast she couldn’t guess the cause. Interesting but he didn’t explain it. Just nodded.
Blimey. Talk about danger, Harry thought. The same place as the job he’d declined. And too close to a town he wanted to forget. His wife had been a midwife, they’d met at Katherine when he’d worked for the RFDS. Fate was out to smack him apparently.
When he changed the subject she didn’t seem to notice. Thank goodness. He’d already said he only wanted a dinner partner, which apparently suited her fine.
Back to discussing her might be safer. ‘So what have you done here in paradise you wouldn’t have done at home?’
She gestured to the beach in front of them. ‘Apart from dining with a man I don’t know, you mean?’
He wasn’t silly enough to fall into the trap. ‘Hmm.’
She shrugged. ‘Nothing, really. Swam, but I did that in Darwin, shopped at markets and watched the sunset over the ocean, but we do that at Mindil on Thursdays and Sundays in Darwin too.’
He watched her think about it. Her thoughts may as well have been typed up on a screen. It was amusing how transparent she was and he found it delightfully refreshing. ‘While I’m here I’d like to see some of the countryside. The terraced rice fields and a volcano—none of those where I come from.’
He nodded. He’d found a topic. ‘So you should do the bike ride from Agung.’
He could tell she’d vaguely heard of it but couldn’t place it. ‘And that would be …?’
He gestured loosely in the direction of Kuta. ‘Up in the mountains, a couple of hours’ drive, well worth it. The bike ride’s about twenty-five kilometres long.’
‘Probably not happening, then.’ She shrugged. ‘I haven’t ridden a bike for ten years.’ She laughed at the thought. ‘That’d be a sight. I wouldn’t be able to stand up after.’
Bonnie tried not to get sucked under his spell but his smile was infecting her. Flashing like a beam over the waves when she least expected to see it in the gloom and made her think of the lighthouse again. He sat forward a little, leaning towards her in an effort to enthuse her. ‘The ride’s all downhill. Through villages, rice fields, over a river. You’d love it.’
She only had a few days left. She doubted she’d organise herself enough for that. ‘I don’t think bike riding’s on my list.’
She watched him frown. ‘Sure it is. If you’re up for it, let me know. I have great contacts.’
She’d love it but she didn’t need his help. Or his company. One night of exposure and flirtation was enough to start with and this guy was just too potent for a bruised heart like hers. ‘I’ll see what the girls say.’ They’d probably ask how many men were going. But she wasn’t debunking the myth that she had protection.
Thankfully it seemed he’d accepted she wouldn’t be pinned to a decision. ‘So what else would you like to do while on beautiful Bali?’
Well, she knew she didn’t want to talk about herself. Never had really. ‘How about you tell me what you’re going to do. How long you’re here for?’
He raised his dark brows and smiled. ‘So bossy,’ he said. She wished.
Then, as if vaguely surprised at himself, he did answer her. ‘I’m here indefinitely. There’s a house up in Ubud. My mother lived there a few months every year. I’ve been visiting for a while.’
Real watch evidently. ‘Wow. And I’m guessing you have servants and everything.’ Even she could hear the reverse snobbery in her voice. Where had that come from?
He tilted his head and she guessed he’d heard it too. ‘There’s a family that maintain the buildings, yes. Have done for fifty years. Ketut and his wife have looked after my mother and she looked after them. But like family—not servants. You have a problem with that?’
Of course she didn’t. And the idea of extra family was a sweet one. She’d be happy to have a distant aunt, let alone a Balinese family looking after her. No reason on earth why she should mind except to wonder why he wanted to waste his time with her. ‘No. I’m sorry. I keep putting my foot in it with you—not sure why. It’s not common for me.’
‘Maybe it’s because I keep you off balance.’ He grinned. ‘But, then, that’s not nice for a platonic friend so I’ll apologise too.’ He glanced down at the menu. ‘We’d better order before it’s too dark for you to see what you’re eating.’
Now her hunger seemed to have soaked into the sand under her feet and she wished she could follow it. Who was out of practice as a relaxed dinner companion? ‘What are you having?’
He put the menu back on the table. ‘I’ll do the set plate with lots of seafood and a side salad.’
She couldn’t even read the menu in the dark. ‘Sounds good.’
He sat straighter and glanced around. ‘You get a drink with it. Have you tried the local beer? It’s very light.’
She’d seen it advertised everywhere. ‘No, but bought the T-shirt.’
He grinned and signalled the waiter, who appeared like magic. ‘We’ll have two Jimbaran specials, two beers and a coconut