by Sarah Morgan
He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Do you suffer from self-doubt?’
She paused with a langoustine halfway to her mouth and then dropped it back on her plate. ‘Yes. Of course I do. You try joining an established practice run by our respective parents. No matter how many times I prove myself, I’m still the child. I’m not capable of having an idea worth listening to.’
And it rankled. She knew she was a good doctor. She had ideas of her own. Ideas that she wanted to develop for the good of her patients. For the good of the whole practice.
Wondering why on earth she was telling him this when it wasn’t something she ever voiced to anyone, she scowled and reached for her glass. Then she changed her mind and lifted her water instead. It was probably the alcohol that was making her so garrulous.
‘Yes, I can imagine it must be hard. Dad hasn’t let you make any changes, has he?’ Sam wiped his fingers on a napkin. ‘He can be a stubborn old guy when he wants to be. I’m amazed you haven’t walked out before now. Spread your wings.’
‘I feel a responsibility to give something back to this place. And I love your dad and I love the practice,’ Anna said softly, turning her head and staring out across the sea. The sun had dipped behind the cliffs and streaks of scarlet shot across the sky, casting lights on the waves. On their table a candle flickered and a vase of sweet peas scented the air. For some reason Anna felt a lump building in her throat. ‘And this is my home. I’d never want to work anywhere else. I don’t know how you can bear London. Don’t you miss it here?’
‘Yes, of course I miss it.’ His tone was equally soft and his eyes were locked on hers. ‘It’s my home every bit as much as it’s your home. Yes, I miss it. But this place didn’t give me what I needed.’
‘And what was that?’
He stared into the candle, watching the breeze toy with the flame. ‘Space to make my own discoveries. Freedom to make my own mistakes.’ He shrugged and reached for his glass. ‘I didn’t want to just move into something that my father had built. That was his dream and I suppose I needed to follow my own dream. I needed something different.’
‘Bright lights and adulation.’
He looked at her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. ‘You really don’t think what I do rates very highly, do you?’
‘You truly want to know what I think?’
‘Just this once, yes, I’ll risk it.’ He put the glass down and sat back in his chair, eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me what you think, Riggs.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I think you’re an extremely talented doctor who’s wasting those talents. You could be making a real difference to people’s lives. Saving lives. You did it this morning. Don’t you miss that, Sam? That feeling of having really helped someone?’
His gaze didn’t shift from hers. ‘You don’t think I help people?’
She shrugged, wishing that he’d look at his plate or his food. There was something about those killer blue eyes that she found more than a little disconcerting. ‘I can see the job is glamorous.’
He leaned forward. ‘In the last six months we’ve had dozens of letters from people whose lives have been changed by things they’ve seen on the programme. My programme. Sometimes it’s life-saving stuff, Riggs. First-aid tips that come in useful. People remember them if they’ve seen them on television. And they use them. Sometimes it’s something far less dramatic but no less important. We tackle subjects that some people find too embarrassing to discuss with their own doctors. And sometimes that gives them the courage to see their own doctors and sort out a problem that’s limiting their lives. We make a difference.’
Anna stared at him. ‘You’re pretty passionate about it.’
‘Very. I think it’s a very useful method of patient education. These days patients want to be informed. They need to be informed.’
‘That’s all very well…’ Anna picked at a piece of bread ‘…but from where I’m sitting there’s nothing more irritating than a patient coming into the surgery clutching a magazine announcing the arrival of another wonder drug.’
‘I’m not saying that all media reporting of health stories is good,’ Sam said. ‘I’m just saying that you shouldn’t dismiss it. Watch my programme. Tell me that what we’re doing in the surgery wouldn’t make good summer viewing. There’s a lot people could learn from us.’
‘Well, I agree that the wasp message is a useful one,’ Anna conceded, and Sam nodded.
‘And what we need to do now is a piece talking about first aid for anaphylactic shock, how to recognise and deal with it. Remind people with known allergies to carry adrenaline.’
‘I still think that the cameras will put patients off coming.’
‘It won’t put them off,’ Sam predicted. ‘It will attract them like magnets. Trust me on that one. You’d be amazed at the number of people who are only too delighted to air their health problems on national TV.’
He sat across from her, talking easily, making her laugh with outrageous stories, and when she finally looked at her watch she was astonished to find it was past midnight.
‘Look at the time! I’ve got a pile of reading to do before I go to bed.’
He yawned and finished his coffee. ‘Forget the reading for once. Have a night off.’
‘I like to stay up to date and stuck down here in Cornwall in a two-man practice, I never get to conferences.’
He looked at her. ‘Reading. Conferences. What about parties? Nights on the town? Don’t you ever have doubts about devoting your life to medicine?’
She frowned and tilted her head to one side, her silken dark hair sliding over her shoulder and brushing the table. ‘I’m not devoting my life. I’m twenty eight, not a hundred. This is just my focus for now. Not for ever.’
‘Precisely. You’re twenty-eight. You should have a sex life.’
She straightened her shoulders. ‘My sex life is none of your business, McKenna, but just in case you haven’t scrutinised the electoral role lately, I ought to warn you that there’s a shortage of single, eligible men in this village. And I don’t sleep with my patients.’
‘Then spread your net wider.’
Her frown deepened. ‘I’m quite happy as I am, for now. My plan is to carry on until I feel I’ve really grasped the job. Then maybe it’ll be time for more personal stuff.’
‘Anna the planner.’ He lifted his glass and drained it, his eyes glittering slightly in the flickering candlelight. ‘And what if fate intervenes? What if Mr Right arrives before you’ve scheduled him in to your life plan?’
She grinned airily. ‘I’ll probably be too busy reading my journals to notice him.’ She waved a hand at Ken who was hovering at a nearby table, chatting to the diners. ‘We’re off, Ken. You’d better charge us for this feast while we’re still sober enough to pay.’
Sam reached into his wallet for his credit card and Anna frowned. ‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, unless you intend to spend the rest of the night in the kitchens, washing up, I was planning to pay.’
‘You’re not paying for me. We’ll go halves.’
Sam yawned. ‘For goodness’ sake, Riggs. Can’t you even let a guy buy you dinner?’
‘I can buy my own dinner and this wasn’t a date, McKenna. It was an alternative to omelette.’
Sam surveyed the pitiful remains of food on the table. ‘It was a good alternative. Especially given that there were no eggs. And I’m paying.’
‘That’s just ridiculous.’
‘No, that’s just the way it is.’ He handed his card to Ken. ‘Fantastic food, Ken. Great evening. Make that appointment to see me any time.’
‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn and opinionated?’ Anna rose to her feet and reached for her bag. ‘Just for the record, your macho, he-man act doesn’t work on me, McKenna. If you’re expecting it to make my legs go weak, it’s only fair to warn you that I’m still walking with no problems.’
‘Really?’ He pulled a face. ‘Damn. I must be losing m
y touch. Need to lift a few more weights. Practise my walk. And for the record, you’re more stubborn than me.’
They left the restaurant and walked back to the car.
‘Now, this is when I love Cornwall.’ Sam stopped and stared out across the darkened beach. The sea hissed as the waves hit the sand and behind them they could hear laughter from the restaurant. ‘I love it when the tourists leave and the beach is ours again.’
Anna stood next to him. ‘The trouble is nowadays the tourists never leave. Most of these beaches are as crowded at night as they are during the day. Once it gets dark the partying starts.’
They stared at a group of teenagers gathered at the water’s edge and Sam frowned. ‘The problem with this place is that the teenagers don’t have anywhere to go. And there’s no privacy. If one of them makes an appointment at the surgery, everyone knows.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Well, if you’re trying to be cool, or if you’re trying to hide something from your parents, then making an appointment with us is like taking out an ad in the paper.’
Anna stared at him. ‘You think that’s why teenagers don’t come?’
‘One reason.’ He looked at the group on the beach. ‘We ought to start a teenage health group. Somewhere they can go, mingle and chat to a doctor if they want to.’
It was a great idea. ‘No one would turn up.’
‘They’d turn up if we made it cool.’
‘And how would we do that?’
He turned and gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I’d be the doctor.’
She grunted with exasperation. ‘You are so arrogant.’
‘What’s the teenage pregnancy rate here?’
‘It’s high, as you well know.’
‘Probably because if they go to the doctor, they broadcast the fact from the rooftops. If there was a clinic for teenagers, we could deal with all sorts of things. Drugs, eating disorders, contraception and the positive stuff, exercise, healthy eating.’
It was a fantastic idea. ‘It would never work.’
‘Let’s try it. Send invitations to all the teenagers in the area.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ She was definitely going to do it. ‘You’re afraid I’ll be proved right.’
‘You’re never right, McKenna. And all our teenagers want to do is party.’
‘Talking of parties, when is the beach barbecue to raise money for the lifeboat? Must be soon.’
Anna laughed. ‘The highlight of our social calendar. I’m amazed you remember it.’
‘It was at the beach barbecue that I finally scored with Daisy Forest,’ Sam said smugly. ‘Not likely to forget that in a hurry. What a girl.’
‘Well, it’s probably only fair to warn you that Daisy Forest is now a happily married woman with three little girls and a doting husband whose shoulder measurements exceed even yours. You might want to rethink that attachment.’
Sam winced and gave a wry smile. ‘Damn. There go my dreams.’
‘Just for my own interest and research, what was it that wrecked them? The three little girls or the dimensions of her husband?’
‘Both. I’m a man who hates competition. So when is it?’
‘The beach barbecue? Three weeks on Saturday. Usual fund-raising stuff. Ken does the food, there’s dancing, several people get drunk and make fools of themselves. We raise some money, we buy new equipment. You know the sort of thing.’
‘Sounds too good to miss.’ He stood next to her, broad-shouldered and handsome. Sexy.
Anna scooped her hair away from her face and frowned. Since when had she ever found Sam McKenna sexy?
Obviously since she’d drunk too much champagne on an empty stomach. She was hallucinating. Her judgement was failing. It was time to go home.
‘Do you want to leave the car and walk?’
He turned. ‘Unlike you, I didn’t indulge. I’m fine to drive. And I’ll need the car in the morning.’
She yawned as they walked to the car park. ‘So tomorrow filming starts in earnest?’
‘Polly has all sorts of plans, but often we just see what comes in. What looks interesting.’
He drove back slowly and Anna closed her eyes, loving the feel of the wind in her hair. ‘All right, you win. This is bliss. Not the engine, just the lack of roof.’
‘Glad I’ve finally pleased you. Remind me to give you champagne more often,’ Sam said dryly. ‘You become more human.’
‘With most people I’m human,’ she murmured. ‘It’s just you that brings out the worst in me. Always have done, McKenna. Always will do.’
‘We’ve done all right tonight.’ He pulled up outside the house and they walked inside. ‘No bloodshed. No visible wounds.’
They made their way to the kitchen and both of them reached for the light switch. Their fingers touched and suddenly she realised how close they were. She could feel the warmth of his breath near her face, feel the brush of his powerful body against hers. The lights flickered on and his gaze slid slowly to hers. Suddenly they were eye to eye and awareness shot between them like a bolt of lightning.
The breath caught in her throat and her heart bumped against her chest. ‘Do you…want coffee?’ Her voice sounded strange. Totally unlike her own. And she found herself noticing things about his eyes that she’d never noticed before. Like the fact that in this light they looked an even deeper blue. And that his lashes were thick and sinfully dark. Lashes that should have looked feminine but somehow made him more male than ever.
‘Coffee?’ His gaze slid to her mouth as if he was trying to make sense of something extremely complicated. ‘I thought you were keen to get back to those journals of yours.’
‘That’s right.’ She fought the temptation to lift her fingers to her lips, but his gaze fixed on her mouth was making her tingle. ‘Journals.’
‘No coffee, then.’ His eyes lifted to hers and locked. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Presumably.’
Their fingers were still tangled together, still on the light switch, and they both pulled away at the same time, their bodies bumping together as they turned for the door.
‘Hell, Riggs…’ He hauled her against him and brought his mouth down on hers hard, one hand sliding behind her neck and holding her fast.
She fell into his kiss, drowning in the heat and the fire, a dangerous thrill curling upwards from deep inside her. It was hot and frantic and totally out of character, but for a brief moment in time she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the future and she didn’t care about the past. She just wanted now.
She grabbed the front of his shirt to press herself closer, and without lifting his head he backed her against the wall, his kiss impossibly intimate, his hands sliding with sensual purpose up the sides of her body until they rested on her breasts. She felt the cool wall against her back, felt the press of solid muscle and hard, sexy male and closed her eyes.
When he finally dragged his mouth from hers and slid hot kisses down her throat, she gasped for air and struggled to rescue the situation.
‘We should stop this.’ Her eyes stayed closed and a soft gasp escaped from her lips as he jerked the strap of her dress down and trailed kisses over the swell of her breast. ‘McKenna…’ She groaned his name. ‘I said we should stop.’
‘We probably should.’
Her head tilted back as his lips moved lower still. ‘This isn’t a good idea.’
‘Feels pretty good from where I am,’ he murmured hoarsely, straightening and returning his full attention to her swollen mouth. ‘Never thought you’d taste this good, Riggs. Incredible.’
She dragged her eyes open and tried to summon up some of the old feelings of irritation and exasperation. But all she could feel was heat.
She was in big trouble.
‘We really can’t do this. We have to stop.’
‘Good idea.’ His tongue slid into her mouth and he kissed her again. Then he lifted his mouth just enough to speak. ‘We’ll stop. Any
minute now, we’re going to stop this. God, you smell good.’ He rubbed his face over her cheek. ‘Have you always smelt this good or have I just not breathed you in before?’
She was aware of every single masculine inch of him, pumped up and virile and so devastatingly sexy that it was almost impossible for her to breathe. The wanting was so powerful that she couldn’t think straight.
‘You’re going to have to stop this, McKenna.’
His mouth played with hers. Teasing. Tantalising. ‘Not sure I can. You taste as good as you smell.’
‘Then we’ll both do it. On three. You move away. I move away.’ She felt his tongue coaxing hers and she groaned and curled her fingers into the hard muscle of his forearms. ‘I said, on three. One, two, three.’
She gave him a shove and he stepped backwards. It gave her some satisfaction to see that his breathing was decidedly unsteady. Hers was, too. If she had a patient in this state she’d be considering medication.
‘OK, well, that worked.’ She lifted the strap of her dress with shaking fingers and raked her tangled hair out of her eyes. She dreaded to think what she looked like but, judging from the look burning in his eyes, she decided it was probably better not to know. ‘I’ll just go to bed…’
He inhaled deeply. ‘Just so that there’s no misunderstanding here—on your own, I presume?’
‘Definitely on my own.’ She backed towards the door, her legs decidedly unsteady. ‘And we’re going to forget this happened.’
He raked long fingers through his already roughened hair. ‘That easy, huh?’
‘I didn’t say it was going to be easy,’ she said honestly, ‘just that that is what we’re going to do.’
‘Unless we go with Plan B.’
‘Which is?’
His eyes were on her mouth. ‘We take this to its natural conclusion.’
The air stilled and her heart skipped a beat. ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. We drive each other crazy, McKenna.’
His eyes darkened. ‘I think we’ve just proved that.’
‘You know what I mean. We don’t even like each other and I need to like a man before I take him to bed. It’s the barest minimum requirement. And we can’t even converse without annoying each other.’
