A Mother's Secret (Mills & Boon Medical)

by Scarlet Wilson

  But it was fine. He was here now and it should be a good sail home.

  He climbed the steps at the harbour. Gemma was sitting waiting for him in a nearby café. Someone had obviously dropped her off after he’d phoned to say when he would be arriving. He could see her through the glass. Her long brown hair was swept back into a ponytail and she was studying the paperwork on the table in front of her intently.

  She jumped as he opened the café door. ‘Oh, Logan. I’m sorry. I should have been watching out for you.’

  He crossed the small space easily. ‘That’s okay. I’d no idea what time I’d actually get here. Sailing isn’t an exact science.’ He couldn’t help but smile as he said it. It was one of the few things in life that gave him pure pleasure.

  The feeling of freedom out on the open water. Shaking off all the usual responsibilities, with no other demands on his time. Just him, and a world of blue for as far as the eye could see. A chance to escape the world around him. And, as much as he loved them, a chance to escape his family and the reminder about how much he’d failed them in the last few weeks.

  Gemma was smiling nervously at him, her hand holding her shirt closed. He squinted at her. ‘Is something wrong?’ Her hair was looking a whole lot more dishevelled than it normally did. Of course. The helicopter. Someone had obviously given her a rubber band to pull it back from her face.

  She gave a little shrug. ‘Wardrobe malfunction. Old shirt versus shiny helicopter blades with huge wind sheer. I lost one of my buttons.’

  He couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Just as well I brought you this.’ He held up the heavy waterproof jacket. ‘Julie mentioned you hadn’t taken a jacket with you.’ He looked across the harbour. ‘And while the sun is shining out there, it’s definitely a bit colder and choppier out on the water.’

  A look of relief crossed her face. She stood up quickly, taking the jacket. Letting her shirt go to slip her arms inside the jacket, he had a quick glimpse of pink satin and lace at the little gap in her blouse. Was that the matching bra to the underwear he’d seen a few weeks ago?

  She bent and zipped up the jacket—all the way to the neck. No chance of any further glimpses. And that was probably for the best.

  ‘I thought I might have found you out at Crocodile Rock.’ He waved his hand across the harbour to the popular tourist attraction.

  Gemma gave a wide smile. The large crocodile-shaped rock was painted black, white and red, giving the appearance of a crocodile’s mouth and eyes. Over the years thousands of visitors had had their pictures taken standing on crocodile rock. It was almost an unwritten rule that every tourist who visited should stand there.

  Gemma shrugged and laughed. ‘The wardrobe malfunction wouldn’t let me risk it. I really have to bring Isla back to see this. She would love it. I didn’t even know it existed.’

  Before he could help it the words were out of his mouth. ‘Why don’t we bring her over one weekend? It won’t take long to sail over in the boat. She’d love it here.’

  What had possessed him?

  He’d spent the last two weeks avoiding her completely. Which was kind of difficult when Gemma was under his nose three days a week. But he couldn’t afford distractions. He had to concentrate all his time and energy on his sister Claire and her worsening mental health.

  Why hadn’t he noticed earlier? It seemed the decision by social services on the adoption assessment had escalated everything. And while he hated to admit it, it was obviously the right decision.

  Claire would be a wonderful parent. But right now she needed some time out and some support.

  But instead of acting rationally, her behaviour was becoming slightly manic. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t think rationally. And she certainly couldn’t take any advice from her brother.

  Although he hated doing it, he’d asked one of his other colleagues to go out and visit his sister at home. He couldn’t treat her, or prescribe anything for her. But they could. And maybe she would respond more positively to someone else. Because right now Logan felt about as much use as an inflatable dartboard.

  Gemma straightened up in the seat. ‘I’m sorry, Logan, I’d offer to buy you a coffee but I don’t have my purse. I had to borrow some money from one of the staff at the hospital.’

  He looked around. ‘Don’t be silly. Do you want something to eat before we get on the boat? I do have some supplies on board, of course.’

  This time her smile reached up to her eyes. ‘What kind of supplies?’

  ‘Oh, all the kind I shouldn’t have. Chocolate. Crisps. A bit of wine. And beans, lots and lots of tins of beans.’

  She laughed. ‘What’s a “bit” of wine?’

  He shrugged. ‘The odd unfinished bottle that might have the cork back in it.’

  ‘Should you have alcohol on a boat?’

  ‘Should you question the man who’s about to see you safely home?’

  She shrugged. ‘Fair point.’

  He held out his hand towards her. ‘Let’s go.’

  Something had happened. The wall he’d erected around her had disintegrated. This was all about him. He’d been deliberately avoiding her and, if he could get away with it, ignoring her. All because of this. All because of the strange sensations of being around her.

  After a few short moments in her company it was apparent that Gemma had no problem with him. She was smiling again. That light floral scent of hers was pervading his senses again. One of these days he’d actually find out what that was.

  Her small hand slid inside his larger one. He couldn’t control his automatic reaction. He closed his hand around hers and pulled her up towards him. His pull was a little stronger than he thought—or maybe Gemma was lighter than he thought. But she ended up just under his chin. Just as well the thick jacket was in place to stop any body contact.

  She lifted her head and looked up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. His breath caught in his throat. Up close and personal. He could see the smattering of light brown freckles across the bridge of her nose. Had they been there a few weeks ago? He wasn’t sure.

  She blinked, then the corners of her mouth turned up and she whispered, ‘I think we’d better move. We’re attracting attention.’

  He looked around quickly. Gemma would probably attract attention wherever she went, but the two island doctors standing so close in the village café was bound to be a talking point. Just as well they weren’t on Arran. The knitting needles would be clacking as they breathed.

  He pulled her towards the door and then out along the harbour. There was a short ladder to get down to the landing platform and he hesitated at the top of it.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He wrinkled his nose and pointed to her skirt. ‘Sorry, I brought you a jacket but I didn’t think to bring you some trousers.’

  It was cute. A little flush appeared in her cheeks. ‘What’s the problem? I’ll go first.’ She made to turn around and put a foot on the ladder.

  His hand touched hers again, and he tried to ignore the current he was feeling. ‘Best not. The platform moves. With those shoes you’ll probably end up falling over.’

  She shot him a fake scowl. ‘Don’t be so sexist. I can take these off.’ She bent to take off her heels.

  ‘Or you can just let me go first.’ He winked at her. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.’ He swung onto the ladder, going down a few rungs and then jumping the last few to land on the platform, which bobbed under his weight.

  She leaned down towards him. ‘Who says I need catching?’ She turned to put her foot on the ladder and then stopped. ‘Wait.’

  ‘What is it?’

  She waggled a finger at him. ‘You need to look elsewhere.’

  He rolled his eyes at her. ‘Oh, come on, I’m a doctor!’ He lifted his hands from the bottom of the ladder and held them out.

  ‘And I’m a colleague who’d like to keep her dignity intact.’

  ‘I need to avert my eyes? Really?’ He w
as teasing her, he couldn’t help it. This seemed to be the natural way for them to be around each other. A bit of flirting, a bit of teasing.

  She put her first foot on the ladder, one hand holding the edge, the other still grasping her skirt.

  He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. ‘Go on—just tell me.’

  She poised in mid-air. ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘Is it a matching set?’

  The expression on her face was priceless. It took her a couple of seconds to recover. Then, as quick as a shot, she climbed down a few rungs and jumped the last few like he had, landing in front of him.

  She drew herself up to her full five feet three, squarely in front of his chest. She folded her arms across her chest, smiling but giving him a narrow gaze. ‘Well, I guess you’ll never know.’

  It was a challenge. She was throwing down the gauntlet. And it was one he was more than willing to take.

  He held out his hand to her again to lead her down towards the boat. ‘I guess we’ll need to see about that.’

  * * *

  Being in a boat was more comfortable than Gemma had expected.

  Being in an enclosed space with Logan Scott? Definitely not.

  She knew none of the intricacies of sailing but for Logan the boat seemed like his second home. It was larger than she’d expected, and although the sea was a little choppy in places it wasn’t as rough as she’d feared.

  Being sick over the side of a boat with a colleague could never be a good look.

  After he’d navigated out of Millport harbour and set them well on their way he invited her down into the galley. It was cosy but certainly big enough for two people and a few kitchen appliances. He put the kettle on straight away.

  ‘You’re making me tea? I thought you promised me wine?’

  ‘Yeah, about that. Can’t get you drunk the first time you’re on my boat. I haven’t found out if you’re a good sailor yet.’ The kettle was already boiling and he was pulling teabags from a cupboard.

  First time on the boat. Did that mean there would be a second? And, more importantly, would she want there to be?

  ‘How long do you think it will take to get back?’

  ‘A couple of hours. I’ve checked all the tide tables. We shouldn’t have any problems. Oh, and I phoned my mum to let her know what had happened. She’s happy to keep Isla until we get back.’

  ‘Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would do without your mum. She’s been a massive help.’

  Logan shrugged as he poured the boiling water into the cups. ‘She likes it. She and Isla are good company for each other. I think she’d been getting a little bored lately. Isla’s given her the spark of life that she needed.’

  Gemma paused for a second. ‘I met your sister the other day.’

  He almost knocked over the cups. ‘What?’

  ‘Your sister Claire. She was at your mum’s house when I dropped Isla off.’

  He hesitated, lifting a cup and handing it to her. ‘How did you find her?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She looked up. She hadn’t been paying attention. It was clear from the expression on his face that he was choosing his words carefully.

  ‘Did she seem okay with you?’

  What should she say? Was there really any point in tiptoeing around the edges? She took a deep breath. ‘I liked her. She’s a nice girl. But she did seem a little sad.’

  Logan nodded slowly. ‘Anything else?’

  Gemma shook her head. ‘Not really. She mentioned the fact she’d like a family and it hasn’t happened. We didn’t go into details. She invited me to join her book group.’

  ‘She did?’ He seemed surprised. His eyes fixed on the water outside. ‘That’s good. Claire hasn’t been very sociable lately.’

  Gemma shrugged. ‘She was okay when I was there, but that’s the first time she’s met me.’ She hesitated. ‘And she seemed to like Isla. I was glad. I didn’t want her to feel put out that her mum was watching my little girl.’

  Logan gave a half-smile. ‘I’d been a little worried about that too. But it seems to be fine.’

  Gemma leaned back in her seat. ‘They are good company for each other, aren’t they?’ Should she mention the one thing that bothered her? Now was as good a time as any. ‘The thing is, Logan, your mum, she won’t let me give her much for minding Isla. I’m not paying her the rate I would elsewhere. Could you persuade her to let me pay her some more?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Seriously? You have met my mother, haven’t you?’ He shook his head firmly. ‘She won’t take any more and if you keep on about it, you’ll only offend her—so don’t.’

  Gemma shifted in her chair. ‘I feel a little as if I’m taking advantage.’

  Logan handed her a cup of tea and sat down next to her. ‘Like I’m taking advantage of you?’

  They were close together. If she turned her head any more their noses would almost touch. She could feel her cheeks start to flush. What did that mean? Was this about the flirting?

  After a few awkward seconds he broke in, obviously seeing that her mind was racing. ‘I mean, with the surgery and everything.’

  Of course. Idiot.

  ‘Yeah, the surgery.’ She rested her tea in her lap. ‘You were pretty pushy about that.’

  ‘I was desperate.’

  ‘Obviously. But thanks for that.’

  He lifted his hand, ‘No. No. I didn’t mean it like that.’ Then he caught the expression on her face and realised she was teasing him again. ‘Oh, stop it.’ He rested his shoulders back. The bench seat they were sitting in was snug. With his shoulders back like that, she would almost be more comfortable in his lap. He grinned at her. ‘Obviously I was desperate. Within two minutes of meeting you I’d glimpsed your underwear and started unpacking your daughter’s clothes for you. I can assure you that’s not a normal day for me on Arran.’

  She started laughing. ‘Really? You seemed such a natural.’

  He looked a little startled. ‘At seeing women’s underwear?’

  She shook her head. The temperature in this confined space was definitely rising. Or maybe it was just the sparks flying between them.

  This wasn’t the first time they’d experienced them. But this was the first time they hadn’t been surrounded by other distractions. There was nowhere else to go here.

  ‘No,’ she said quietly. His blue eyes were staring straight into hers. And even though her brain was telling her to look away, she just couldn’t do it. ‘At unpacking.’

  His hand brushed against hers.

  Her first instinct was to move it. But she wasn’t going to. Instead, she gave him a wary smile. Was there a chance she was reading this all wrong? It had been so long there was every possibility.

  ‘So, Logan. Other than with professional duties, how often do you glimpse women’s underwear?’

  Talk about a loaded question. But she had to ask. She had to know if he was the local Romeo. Someone who should clearly be avoided. Her throat felt instantly dry and she willed herself not to go red from her toes to her forehead.

  Playing cool, calm and collected was difficult for her. Mild flirtation she could handle easily. Being one to one on a boat in the middle of the sea? Not so much.

  A lazy smile spread across his face, along with the glimmer in his eye that showed he knew exactly what she was getting at. ‘Now, Dr Halliday, is that a question you should ask your colleague?’

  Had he just moved a little closer? Or was she imagining it?

  And he certainly hadn’t wasted any time in asking her if she was a single parent. She ran her tongue along her dry lips. She could play this game. She might be out of practice but she could pick up the skills with the best of them. ‘Probably not, Dr Scott. But then again I’m not normally marooned at sea with a close colleague.’

  The little lines appeared around the edges of his eyes as his smile grew wider. ‘How close a colleague would that be?’

  His hips turned towards hers and his hand settled
on her hip. Her reaction was automatic, her hips turning a little, edging round to face his. She wanted to put her tea down, but anything that was going to make them break this stare or positioning was a definite no-no.

  The air around them was practically sizzling. All of a sudden the thick, waterproof coat felt as if it was stifling her. Her lips were dry again. This time when she wet them with her tongue she was aware that he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

  ‘How close a colleague does he want to be?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.

  He took the cup from her, setting it down then reached up his hand and ran a finger down her cheek lightly. ‘This close?’

  She could barely swallow. She shook her head. ‘Closer.’

  He moved forward, his lips brushing against her ear. ‘This close?’

  She shook her head again, her hand reaching up and catching his.

  His head moved, his lips hovering just above hers. ‘How about this close?’ he whispered.

  ‘I think so,’ she whispered, as her lips reached up to meet his.

  Wow. No nudging of lips or gentle persuasion. This was a very definite full-on kiss. Logan was obviously a take-charge kind of guy, kissing her so thoroughly she was breathless. Then, as his lips finally released hers, he didn’t hesitate. He moved on to her neck, right at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. How did he know just where to kiss her? Just where would drive her absolutely crazy?

  One hand unzipped her thick jacket. It was a relief. The temperature was rising considerably in this compact cabin and she managed to shrug the jacket off without breaking contact.

  Her hands were itching to touch his skin. Her eyes were itching to see his skin. He might have had the pleasure of seeing glimpses of her that he shouldn’t, but she’d never had the same luck.

  His jacket was already in a heap on the floor. He wasn’t wearing his usual work garb, he must have changed before he’d come to collect her. It made it so much easier for her to slide her hands underneath his T-shirt onto his bare skin and up over the planes of his chest.

  She could feel the muscles rippling beneath her fingertips, feel the curly hair on his broad chest. His fingers were moving in return, unbuttoning her more sedate blouse—or at least the buttons that were left. He smiled as he pushed it open and looked at her pale pink satin and lace bra. ‘Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes.’