interest, but he’d picked up the latest copy of a medical journal and was flicking through the pages, apparently oblivious to the effect that his endearment had had on her friend.
Shaking her head with frustration, Kyla resisted the temptation to hit him over the head with a blunt object. Didn’t the entire Island population praise Logan for his amazing sensitivity? Didn’t everyone think her brother knew everything about everything and everyone?
Well, there were some things that he was totally dense about, Kyla thought wearily as she tucked a set of notes back into the cabinet. It had been almost a year since Catherine had died. Long enough. Sooner or later she was going to have to interfere.
Looking at the wistful expression in Evanna’s kind eyes, Kyla decided that it might just be sooner. ‘I had a visit from Ann Carne this morning.’ Dragging her mind back to the job in hand, she handed a set of results to her brother.
‘Did you, now?’ Logan leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. ‘And how was our favourite headmistress?’
‘Still in denial. If she doesn’t learn to use those inhalers, she’s going to find herself in trouble.’
Logan nodded thoughtfully. ‘And did you speak to her about it?’
Kyla lifted an eyebrow. ‘What am I—stupid?’
‘You want me to answer that?’
‘Don’t start, you two,’ Evanna said hastily, sending an apologetic glance towards Ethan. ‘You mustn’t mind them. It’s just brother-sister stuff. They’re always the same. They bicker and needle. You get used to it after a time. They adore each other really.’
There was no answering smile on Ethan’s face and Kyla frowned slightly as she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the tension in his broad shoulders. Oops, she thought to herself. Trouble there. There was a bleakness and a shadow in his eyes that made her wonder and want to ask questions. Did he object to humour in the workplace? Surely not.
She caught Logan’s eye and he shot her a warning look. ‘Mind your own business,’ he murmured softly in Gaelic, and she smiled and replied in the same tongue.
‘Perhaps I’m wondering whether to make him my business.’
Logan rolled his eyes and stood up, switching to English. ‘Women. I’ll never understand them.’
‘Well, that’s perfectly obvious,’ Kyla muttered, her eyes sliding to Evanna. ‘But don’t give up trying. Believe me, you need the practice.’
‘I’m practising on my daughter. Talking of which, if we’ve finished here I’m going to spend an hour with the girl in my life who should be just about waking up from her nap and ready to dress herself in her lunch. Ethan, I’d invite you to join us but you’d end up covered in puréed vegetables. Take some time to settle in. My sister will show you the cottage we’ve arranged for you. I hope it suits. It’s only a short drive from here. If you need anything, you’ve only to ask.’
Kyla watched as some of the wariness left Ethan’s handsome face. ‘Do you want me to do the house call so you can spend more time with the baby?’
‘No need.’ Logan shook his head. ‘I’ll take her with me. Helen McNair has been asking to see her.’
Kyla gave a soft smile. ‘That’s a clever idea, Logan MacNeil. Give her something else to focus on.’
‘She’s had a hard time lately. It will be good to spend some time with her. And she makes the best chocolate cake on the island.’ Logan strode across the reception area towards the door that separated the surgery from his house.
Kyla turned to Ethan with a smile. ‘Are you ready for another trip in my car?’
‘That was an exciting morning.’ Ethan unravelled himself from the car and followed Kyla down a path that led towards a pair of cottages. The sea stretched ahead of them and he breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool, salty breeze and the freshness of the air. ‘Is it always like that?’
‘Sometimes.’ She pushed open a gate and held it while he followed her through. ‘It’s often all or nothing. You were good.’
‘Was it a test?’
‘No. But if it had been, you would have passed.’ She let the gate swing shut and tilted her head to one side as she studied him. ‘Don’t be angry with me. Working on this island isn’t for everyone. We see everything here, and we’re the first line of defence. Does that worry you?’
‘No.’ What worried him was the hot flare of lust he felt whenever he looked at her. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on the view of the bay. ‘It’s spectacular. Who lives here usually?’
‘Holiday let. The cottage is usually rented out for the whole of the summer season but Nick Hillier who owns it had a bad experience last year.’ Kyla fumbled for the keys and opened the front door. ‘A group from London had a bit of a wild party and left the place wrecked. So he decided that this summer he’d let it to the locum doctor. He’s assuming that, with all those letters after your name, you’ll know how to behave yourself.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Ethan strolled into the cottage behind her, trying to ignore her delicious scent and the incredible shine of her honey-blonde hair. ‘Who’s Nick Hillier?’
‘Our policeman. I went to school with him. He used to tie my plaits together.’
For some reason that he couldn’t identify, this piece of news simply racked up the tension inside him and Ethan drew in a breath and rolled his shoulders. He needed a swim. A run. Anything to drive the unwanted thoughts and images from his head.
He watched as she threw open doors and windows, letting in light and air. She was obviously an outdoor sort of person. ‘Did you go to school with everyone on the island?’
‘Not everyone, but most of the people of around my age who were born here. It’s a small community. Mind you, that can be a disadvantage. I sometimes think Ann Carne still sees me as the little horror who led the strike against school dinners.’ She turned and smiled and he felt a vicious kick of lust deep inside him.
Her pretty smile faded and was replaced by something entirely different as they stared at each other.
Back off, Ethan, he warned himself grimly. Not now. And not this woman.
That wasn’t why he was there.
‘You led a strike against school dinners?’ He saw from the slightly questioning look in her eyes that she’d picked up on the rough tone of his voice.
‘I was a fussy eater. I protested loudly about everything they put in front of me and I expected everyone else to protest, too. I told all the other children to fold their arms and refuse to eat until they produced something decent.’
He could imagine her doing it. Imagine her with those sapphire-blue eyes flashing and that chin lifted in defiance. ‘And how old were you?’
‘Five.’ She smiled without a trace of apology. ‘My mother said she’d never been so embarrassed. They called her down to the school. I was given such a talking-to.’
Ethan
