The Doctor’s Proposal

by Marion Lennox

  ‘I’d imagine it would,’ she said faintly. ‘All those women.’

  ‘It’s just…’ He kicked spray up before him with a sudden savage swipe that had his pants and shirt covered with spray. No problem, Kirsty thought. The unseasonable cold snap as they’d arrived had lasted a whole three minutes and it was now back to late-summer gorgeous. He’d dry before they reached the end of the beach. ‘Look, the small-town thing is dumb. It’s why I came here-because everyone cares for everyone-and this is just its downside so I shouldn’t complain.’

  ‘Why do you care what they say?’ she asked cautiously. ‘Is it so important? If someone sees you kissing someone else and sets it about that you’re having a hot affair-is that such a tragedy?’

  ‘My kids.’

  ‘It’s hardly going to affect your kids,’ she said, with more asperity than she’d intended. ‘They’re four years old. They’re hardly likely to be corrupted.’

  ‘But if the woman gets the wrong idea…’

  ‘You’re scared that touching a woman leads to immediate presumption of marriage. You know, that does seem a trifle…presumptuous.’

  ‘It does,’ he said, giving her a rueful smile. ‘It sounds conceited.’

  ‘It definitely does.’

  ‘So if I kissed you, you wouldn’t think it’d lead anywhere.’

  She thought about that. ‘I guess it couldn’t,’ she agreed cautiously. ‘On account of hubby and rug-rats back home.’

  He motioned up to the headland. There was a car park overlooking the harbour, a place Kirsty had discovered was a favourite with the locals. They drove up there at odd times in the day just to check to the state of surf, the tides, whether the fishing fleet was in sight. At any time of the day there were never less than half a dozen cars parked there, and now Kirsty could count at least ten.

  ‘You know,’ Kirsty said cautiously, ‘if you were to kiss me now, you could use it as armour for years.’

  ‘How so?’ They’d slowed, and now they stopped, ankle deep in the surf.

  ‘It’d be all over town by morning. Doctor has passionate affair with other doctor. Then nothing. Doctor goes back to New York, leaving bereft country doctor behind. You could hide behind your broken heart for ages.’

  ‘Gee, thanks.’

  ‘Just a thought,’ she said, and grinned. ‘Just offering myself in the greater good. If you need armour, what better than a broken heart? Or…’ She paused. ‘I could tell everyone you knew about hubby and the six kids. That’d work. Maybe it’d even work better.’

  ‘How would it work better?’ He was staring at her as if she’d grown antennae.

  ‘Mothers would warn their daughters about you. Don’t go near him, dear, he’s a home-wrecker.’

  ‘You’ve got it all worked out.’

  ‘Just trying to be helpful.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re miserable,’ she told him. ‘I’m a pain specialist. Fixing pain is what I do.’

  ‘What makes you think I’m in pain?’

  ‘I think you’re lonely as hell,’ she said bluntly. ‘I think your wife walking out on you has left you bewildered and hurt and scared. You want to keep you and your two little girls safe from being hurt again, and you’re using local gossip as an excuse not to let anyone close.’

  ‘That’s nonsense.’

  ‘Is it?’ She turned to face him then, head on. ‘Is it really, Jake? It’s partly what you told me. We’d hardly met before you were telling me to back off, and you know there’s a solid mutual attraction. Fictional kidlets aside, is there really a sensible reason why you’re not kissing me now? When you know we both want to?’

  ‘I…’

  She raised her brows in mock enquiry and turned away, taking a few more steps in the shallows. Was she mad? Solitude and fear over the last month had driven her to the edge, she thought, and any minute she’d be declared as crazed as Kenneth.

  And then she heard Jake splash behind her.

  She paused, not knowing whether she should be hopeful or not. But she was hopeful.

  ‘Kirsty?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s either kiss you or throttle you,’ he told her, sounding much more exasperated than passionate. ‘So turn around and be kissed.’

  He kissed her.

  He was crazy. This was dumb. She’d goaded him into it and it made all the sense in the world to walk away, but she was too…

  Too Kirsty.

  It stunned him. She’d walked into his life and something had lit that hadn’t been lit for years-if it ever had been lit, and somehow he doubted it. He’d thought he’d been in love when he’d married, but he hadn’t felt like this.

  Like he was balancing on a knife-edge.

  She’d accused him of being scared, he thought, and she was right. Ever since he’d been left with two babies to make a future for, every decision had been carefully controlled. But Kirsty was uncontrolled. Uncontrollable.

  Kirsty.

  This was madness. This was not a sensible move at all, but she was right before him, her eyes wide with gentle, mocking enquiry. A man could drown in those eyes. A man could lose control completely. No, it wasn’t the least bit sensible but she was waiting to be kissed. The watchers on the clifftop were waiting for a man to kiss a woman. Kirsty had defied him to put on a show for their audience, and suddenly he couldn’t help himself.

  And when he took her hands in his, when he drew her to him and kissed her, softly, wonderingly on the mouth, it was like the coming together of two halves of a whole.

  She was so…right!

  He’d thought he’d known how a woman felt-of course he did-but this was different. Each curve; the soft warmth of her; every part of her moulding against him, fitting with a completeness that was as shocking as it was wonderful.

  He knew this woman, he thought numbly. He’d always known her, but he hadn’t found her until now. And then he stopped thinking anything at all as his mind shuttered down and all he felt was the kiss.

  And Kirsty…

  Kirsty had goaded him into this kiss, half laughing, but half of her desperately wanting. It was as if she’d been defying herself to find that it couldn’t be as wonderful as her subconscious was screaming that it could be. But her subconscious had been overwhelmingly, deliciously right.

  Her hands came up to cup his face, deepening the kiss, and she felt the rough beginning of stubble on his tough male skin. It was so erotic she felt her toes start to curl.

  She’d kissed men. Of course she’d kissed men.

  Nobody had caused her toes to curl as this man was doing right now.

  And she could keep kissing him. It was unbelievable that he was kissing her, that she was holding him and he wasn’t pulling away, that he was deepening the kiss, seemingly wanting her as much as she wanted him.

  Nothing had ever felt so right. Her breasts were against his chest, his hands were tugging her waist, drawing her into him, and she was arching against him. Aching. Loving. Welcoming her man to her, as a woman welcomed her man home after battle.

  Home to her heart.

  This couldn’t last. They were playing for an audience, she thought in the tiny recess of her brain still available for anything but pure, hot sensation. In a moment he’d pull away and all the reasons why he didn’t want a relationship, why she didn’t want a relationship, would surface and life would go on as before.

  This was time out for both of them but she wasn’t going to stop it. To do so would be dumb, and she didn’t feel dumb. She felt light and hot and wonderful and…loved.

  Loved?

  Maybe she was dumb after all. Her hands moved to pull him closer, tighter, to deepen the kiss as if to block out the unwanted intrusion of sanity.

  But it had happened and maybe he’d felt it, or maybe he’d had his own intrusive thoughts because suddenly he was pulling away. His hands caught hers, using them to hold her away from him. Just a little.

  His eyes were quizzical, laughing-but she was sta
rting to know this man and she could see uncertainty behind the façade of laughter.

  ‘Do you think that’s given them enough?’

  ‘No,’ she said, trying to match his laughter. But she was aware that the unsteadiness of her voice must be a give-away to the jumble of emotions within. ‘They won’t be satisfied unless you rip my clothes off and take me, right here.’

  ‘You want to do that?’ he asked, the smile still managing to stay-but both of them knew that what he was suggesting was entirely possible, given another time, another place…

  Another life.

  He released her hands and it was all she could do not to cry. Such a loss.

  ‘Maybe being known as Dolphin Bay’s town slut isn’t quite what I had in mind,’ she managed, still trying for lightness. ‘Though it’d do wonders for your reputation. Fornication in public? No mother in her right mind would let her daughter so much as come to you for a flu jab.’

  ‘Then maybe we’d better not.’

  ‘Maybe we’d better not.’

  He caught her hand again, simply, girl to boy, swinging her around so they were side by side, facing the cliff. It was a simple gesture, but the feel of his fingers entwined in hers moved her unutterably. She glanced up at the line of cars, trying to take her mind off the feel of his hand. By the time they reached the car park their audience would have completely dispersed, she decided. The town gossip network was about to move into meltdown.

  ‘You think what we’ve just done will keep me safe from matchmaking?’ Jake murmured, and the lightness had suddenly gone from his voice. His fingers were gripping hers with force as well as with warmth.

  ‘For the next few weeks they’ll bracket us together,’ she whispered. ‘Everyone knows we’ve been sleeping in the same castle. The local gossip lines will all but self-destruct. Then when I go you can be heartbroken all over again, just as you were when your wife left. Getting over your wife has given you years of grace. The town is only starting to gear up seriously to matchmake. And now you’ve another lost love.’

  ‘You’re my lost love,’ he said, sounding startled.

  ‘I make a good one, don’t you think?’

  ‘Um…sure.’

  ‘There you go, then.’ She was working so hard on keeping it light that something inside her was threatening to break. She was so close to tears…

  There was a ring from his shirt pocket and she thought, Thank heaven for cell phones. Anything to break this moment. Anything to give her space. She walked away a little, and she could almost hear the collective sigh of disappointment from the clifftop.

  Could she stand living here as the local doctor and being watched every day?

  Maybe not. Not unless…

  Don’t go there, she told herself. She shrugged and hiked up the beach, and by the time Jake reached her she was sitting on the sand, pulling her sandals back on. Their time of make-believe was over.

  ‘They were lovely fish and chips,’ she told him, trying to sound polite and dismissive. ‘It was a very nice walk and a very nice kiss. Thank you very much, Doctor.’

  His lips twitched. ‘Just like that? Consultation over?’

  ‘I’d be guessing you have places to go, people to see.’

  ‘Emily Cannon has croup.’

  ‘There you go, then. I’ll see you back at home.’ Hardly, she thought. Jake and his twins were sleeping in a guest suite on the first floor near Angus, about as far from her as it was possible to be. ‘Unless you need help with croup,’ she added, trying not to sound hopeful.

  ‘Croup hardly needs a specialist anaesthetist.’

  ‘I still remember croup training.’

  ‘I don’t need you.’

  You couldn’t get more of a dismissal than that. Right.

  ‘Goodnight, then, Dr Cameron,’ she told him.

  ‘Goodnight, Dr McMahon.’

  ‘I’d shake hands but our audience seems to have disappeared,’ she said, motioning to the deserted car park. ‘It’d be a waste of human contact, don’t you think?’

  But she didn’t wait to find out whether he agreed or not. She turned and stalked back to her car with all the dignity a woman could muster.

  Which wasn’t very much at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WAS a long night. Kirsty lay awake and wondered what on earth she’d done. She’d tossed her dignity aside and behaved like a twit. She’d thrown herself at the man.

  ‘I had fun,’ she told herself, trying desperately to lighten what had happened in her head. ‘And he had fun, too. We were a mature man and woman play-acting for the local gossips.

  ‘That might be what Jake was doing, but it was far more than play-acting for you, and you know it.’

  Sleep wouldn’t come. She rose and padded softly into Susie’s room, as she’d done so often over the last week, and she found her sister staring at the ceiling as well.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked, and Susie turned and smiled at her in the moonlight.

  ‘Nothing’s up, stoopid. That’s the problem.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I was woken by Rory junior practising his gridiron,’ she said. ‘Then I had to get up for a pee for the fourth time tonight. And now…I’ve just been lying here thinking that life suddenly seems hopeful again. Just a little bit,’ she said hastily, as if her sister might read too much into her confession. ‘But these last days…it’s been like slivers of light breaking through fog. Just glimpses, but they’re getting longer.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Kirsty said warmly, perched on her twin’s bed. ‘Depression is such a ghastly illness. I’ve been so frightened for you.’ She lifted her sister’s hand and squeezed. ‘I guess I still am.’

  ‘You’re thinking the clouds will re-form,’ Susie whispered. ‘I’m afraid they might, too. It’s great that I’m having this…this little bit of happiness but then I remember that Rory isn’t here to share it with me. He won’t see his baby. Then I think I’ve got no right to go on.’

  Kirsty had left the door open. Angus left a nightlight on-actually a night chandelier-and now a shadow crossed the door. Susie’s eyes flew to see who it was, and she smiled a welcome.

  ‘Jake.’

  Jake paused in the doorway. Boris was by his side, wagging his tail in greeting. He’d obviously been waiting in the hall for Jake to return and now his tail was sweeping his pleasure.

  ‘Susie.’ Jake’s voice was warm and caring. ‘Is anything wrong?’ Then he saw Kirsty, and his voice changed. ‘Sorry. You have your personal physician in attendance already. I’m on my way to bed. Come on, Boris.’

  ‘Come in and join us,’ Susie called.

  Kirsty thought, Rats. But it was callous to say rats so she calmly moved up the bed a bit so Jake could come in and sit down.

  He came instead to stand, looking searchingly down at Susie.

  Ignoring Kirsty.

  ‘You really are all right?’

  ‘I really am,’ Susie told him. ‘And tomorrow Angus and I have organised to see the physiotherapist you told me about.’

  That was a huge step forward, Kirsty acknowledged. Up until now Susie had resisted all attempts to get her moving. But Jake had talked about the physiotherapist who visited town once a week. He’d told Angus Susie would benefit, but she wouldn’t go by herself-and then he’d told Susie that physiotherapy could prolong Angus’s life but he wouldn’t go by himself either. Hey, presto, problem fixed. Together they’d go. Country doctor doing what he did best. Sorting out a multitude of problems with interlacing solutions.

  Up until now Boris had been standing by Susie’s bed. But Kirsty had made room for Jake; the spot was vacant and a dog could only stand temptation for so long. He leapt up, realised how comfortable it was and wriggled forward on his stomach until he was near enough to give Susie a long, slurpy kiss.

  ‘Urk,’ Susie said-and giggled.

  It was the best sound, Kirsty thought. It was an amazing sound. No matter what sort of emotional mess this man was making of h
er head, she forgave him all because he’d made her sister giggle.

  It had to continue, she thought desperately. But would it? After the baby’s birth, hormonal changes could propel her further downward, postnatal depression mingling with an existing diagnosis.

  ‘Susie’s feeling guilty that she’s started to have glimmers of enjoyment,’ she told Jake, jumping in feet first. ‘Rory’s not here to share it. She’s feeling dreadful that she’s here and he’s not, and she’s scared the depression’s going to descend again.’

  ‘It’s an awful feeling,’ Jake said softly. ‘I know when my sister died, that was one of the hardest things to come to terms with.’

  ‘Your sister died?’ Susie asked. Kirsty didn’t say anything. It was like he poleaxed her every time he opened his mouth.

  ‘Car accident when she was sixteen,’ he said briefly. ‘The first time I forgot…my friends dragged me out to a movie and it was a silly, dopey movie where we all ended up drunk on laughter and life and sheer teenage silliness. And I came out into the night and thought, Elly’s never going to see that movie. It was so gut-wrenching that I threw up. My body reacted to mental anguish by physical revolt.’

  ‘Your friends wouldn’t have understood,’ Susie whispered.

  ‘I told them I had a stomach upset,’ he told them. ‘Maybe they believed me. They probably did, come to think of it, as how can you know what loss feels like until you’ve experienced it? What followed then was months of pseudo-stomach upsets, and even now I have moments. But I’ve learned…’ He hesitated, glancing at Kirsty as if unsure that he should reveal himself so completely in her presence. ‘But I’ve learned that I can’t not see movies. Or go to the beach, or have my twenty-first birthday or get married and have kids just to stop my gut wrenching. Because it doesn’t help. Grief and loss twists your gut into such a knot that every now and then you just have to let go, let it all out, sob or vomit or kick inanimate objects or whatever you find helps-but you have to do it. If you don’t you stay permanently twisted inside.’

  ‘I guess that’s what I have been,’ Susie whispered. ‘Twisted inside.’