Summer Kisses. Sarah Morgan
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Logan’s judgement.’ Fiercely loyal, Flora immediately flew to Logan’s defence and then wished she hadn’t because Conner switched his gaze from Logan to her and his attention was unsettling, to say the least.
Apparently unaware of the change in the atmosphere, Logan rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. ‘When you love someone, Conner,’ he said, ‘you lose perspective.’
Conner’s eyes held Flora’s. ‘I wouldn’t know. That’s one mistake I’ve never made.’
She swallowed, every bit as uncomfortable as he’d clearly intended her to be. Was he trying to shock her? He’d had women, she knew that. Probably many. Was she surprised that he’d never found love? That he considered love a mistake?
‘True love is a gift, given to few,’ she murmured, and Conner’s mouth tilted and his blue eyes glinted with sardonic humour.
‘True love is a curse, bestowed on the unlucky. Love brings weakness and vulnerability. How can that be a gift?’
Flustered, she cleared her throat and looked away. What was he doing here? Why had he returned to Glenmore with no warning, looking like the bad guy out of a Hollywood movie? His hair was dark and cropped short and his jaw was dark with stubble. He was indecently handsome and the only thing that marred the otherwise faultless symmetry of his features was the slight bump in his nose, an imperfection which she assumed to be the legacy of a fight. He looked tough and dangerous and the impression of virile manhood was further intensified by the width and power of his shoulders under the black leather jacket.
He wasn’t attractive, Flora told herself desperately. How could he possibly be attractive? He looked … rough. Rough and a little menacing. She thought of the conventional, bespectacled lawyer she’d dated for a while in Edinburgh. He’d always let her through doors first and had been completely charming. His hair had always been neat and tidy and she’d never, ever seen him anything other than clean-shaven. He’d almost always worn a suit when they’d dated and his legs hadn’t filled his trousers the way that Conner’s did. And then there had been his smile. His cheeks had dimpled slightly and his eyes had been kind. Nothing like Conner’s eyes. Conner’s eyes were fierce and hard, as if he was just waiting for someone to pick a fight so that he could work off some pent-up energy.
Her heart thudded hard against her chest. Conner MacNeil wasn’t charming or kind. He was—He was … unsuitable. Dangerous. A woman had to be mad to look twice at a man like him.
Why, she wondered helplessly, was the unsuitable and the dangerous always so much more appealing than the suitable?
‘We need to get on.’ With a huge effort of will, she broke the connection and turned her attention back to Logan. ‘We’ve a busy surgery this morning. What happened to the new doctor? Did he show up? You didn’t tell me who he is or when he or she can start.’
‘You heard the woman.’ Logan turned to Conner. ‘Go and do your job.’
Conner shrugged and a slight smile touched his mouth. ‘Prepare for chaos.’
It took Flora a moment to understand the implications of their conversation. ‘You can’t—Conner?’ Her voice cracked. ‘But Conner isn’t—’ She broke off and Conner lifted an eyebrow.
‘Don’t stop there,’ he prompted softly. ‘I’m keen to hear all the things I’m not.’
Not suitable. Not safe. Not conventional. Not responsible … She could have drawn up a never-ending list of things he was not. ‘I—You’re not a doctor. You can’t be a doctor.’
He smiled. ‘Why? Because I didn’t hand in my homework on time?’
‘You didn’t hand in your homework at all. You were hardly ever at school!’
‘I’m flattered that you noticed.’ His soft observation was a humiliating reminder that she’d always been aware of him and he’d never even noticed her.
She was probably the only girl on Glenmore who hadn’t been kissed by Conner MacNeil.
She turned away, horrified that after all this time she still cared that she’d been invisible to him. ‘You’re forgetting that my aunt was the headmistress.’
‘I’ve forgotten nothing.’ There was something in his tone that made her glance at him and speculate. There was resentment there and—anger?
He’d always seemed angry, she remembered. Angry, moody and wild.
Was that why he was back? Was he seeking revenge on the people who had disapproved and eventually despaired of him?
‘Ann runs a wonderful school.’ She felt compelled to defend her family. ‘The children all adore her and they get a fantastic education.’
‘There’s more to education than sitting in rows in a classroom with a book in front of you.’ Conner leaned nonchalantly against the table, his glance speculative. ‘Still the same Flora. Conventional. Playing everything by the rules. I presume that all your affairs are still with books?’
His comment stung. He made her feel so—so—boring. Plain, boring Flora. And that was what they’d called her at school, of course. Boring Flora. Hurt, she clawed back. ‘Rules are there for a reason and if you’re really a doctor then I hope you’ve read a few books yourself along the way, otherwise I pity your patients.’ She stopped, shocked at herself and aware that Logan was gaping at her in amazement.
‘Flora! I’ve never heard you speak to anyone like that before. Usually I have to drag a response from you. What is the matter with you?’
‘I don’t know. I—Nothing.’ Flora’s cheeks were scarlet and she blinked several times and adjusted her glasses. She didn’t know what was the matter. She didn’t know what had come over her. She didn’t know why she felt so hot and bothered. ‘Sorry. I apologise.’
She felt miserably uncomfortable and mortified that she’d embarrassed Logan. The only person who didn’t seem remotely embarrassed was Conner himself. He simply laughed.
‘Don’t apologise. I much prefer to be around people who say what they think. I’m sure most of the inhabitants of Glenmore will share your sentiments and express them far more vociferously.’ He turned to Logan. ‘I did warn you that this wouldn’t work. It isn’t too late to change your mind.’
‘Of course I’m not going to change my mind.’ Logan sounded exasperated. ‘Flora, Conner’s credentials are—’
‘Irrelevant,’ Conner interrupted smoothly, and Flora bit her lip.
She knew she ought to say something nice and welcoming, but her brain just didn’t seem to be working with its normal efficiency. Seeing Conner again without warning was shocking, confusing and—thrilling?
Horrified, she quickly dismissed that last emotion and pressed her fingers to her chest, wishing that her heart would slow down. It was not, definitely not, thrilling that he was back on the island. If she’d been asked to choose the least suitable man to be a doctor on Glenmore, it would have been Conner MacNeil.
Over the years, she’d thought of him often.
Too often.
She’d wondered where he was and what he was doing. She’d imagined him languishing in some jail, maybe in a foreign country; she’d imagined him sitting by a pool in a tax haven, having made piles of money by some unspeakably dubious means.
Never, in her most extravagant fantasies, had she imagined him training as a doctor and never, in those same dreams, had she imagined him returning to Glenmore.
One thing she knew for sure; the calm, tranquil routine of Glenmore Island was about to be overturned.
She didn’t know what sort of doctor Conner was going to prove to be, but she knew it wasn’t the sort that the islanders were used to seeing.