The Rebel Doctor's Bride

‘It’s none of their business.’

Logan sighed. ‘I don’t see why you’re so reluctant to let people know that you’re a good guy.’

‘Who says I’m a good guy? If you wanted a good guy for the job then you’ve appointed the wrong man.’ Conner turned, a ghost of a smile on his face. ‘You’ll have a hard job convincing Flora, Mrs Graham and any of that lot on the ferry that there’s a single decent bone in my body.’

‘Give them time. How soon can you start?’

‘That depends on how soon you want to clear out your surgery.’ Conner unzipped his jacket. ‘I can guarantee that they won’t be queuing up to see me. I’m assuming that, by appointing me, you want to encourage your patients to deal with their ailments at home. We both know they won’t be coming to the surgery once they know who the doctor is. Which means I get to lounge around all day with my feet up while you pay my salary.’

‘That’s rubbish. You know as well as I do that the women will be forming a disorderly queue all the way to the harbour.’ Logan’s expression was serious. ‘Tell them the truth about yourself, Con. It will help them understand you.’

‘I don’t need them to understand me. That’s always been the difference between us. You are a nice guy. I’m not. You care about them. I don’t.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘Not out of love for the islanders, that’s for sure. And I’m here because…’ Conner shrugged ‘…you rang me. I came. Let’s leave it at that.’ He didn’t want to think about the rest of it. Not yet. He frowned, his attention caught by one of the photographs on the wall. ‘Isn’t that little Evanna Duncan? Are you two together?’

‘She’s Evanna MacNeil now,’ Logan’s tone was a shade cooler as he corrected him. ‘I married her a year ago and if you so much as glance in her direction you might just discover that I’m not such a nice guy after all.’

‘Seducing married women has never been on my list of vices.’ Conner turned and looked at his cousin. ‘She always adored you. Children?’

‘Evanna is due in five weeks.’ Logan hesitated. ‘And I have a daughter from a previous marriage. Kirsty. She’s two.’

‘So, you’re a regular family man.’ Conner saw the shadows in Logan’s eyes but he knew better than to ask questions. He had plenty of shadows of his own, dark corners that he kept private.

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘What about you? Wife? Children?’

‘I’ll assume that wasn’t a serious question.’

‘I was just hoping you had a reason not to wreak havoc across the female population of Glenmore over the summer. Just don’t touch the patients, it’s strictly frowned on and definitely against the rules.’ Logan rose to his feet. ‘Use the consulting room across the corridor. Do you want to shave or change before you start?’

‘And ruin the opportunity to shock everyone? I don’t think so. I’ll stay as I am.’

‘I’ve just broken the news of your arrival to Janet, our receptionist. She’s already lined up some patients. Is there anything you need to know before you start?’

‘Yes.’ Conner paused, his hand on the door. ‘If I’m not allowed to seduce the patients, how am I supposed to relieve the boredom of being trapped on Glenmore?’

‘I don’t suppose you’d consider a round of golf?’

‘No.’

‘I didn’t think you would. Well, I’m confident you’ll find something or someone to distract you.’ Logan gave a resigned laugh. ‘Just steer clear of Mrs Graham’s garden, that’s all I ask.’

She needed to talk to Logan quickly.

Flora nipped across the corridor and tapped lightly on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she walked into his consulting room and immediately collided with a tall, dark-haired man whose body seemed to be made of nothing but rock-hard muscle. She stumbled slightly but his hands came out and steadied her, his strong fingers digging into her arms as he held her.

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ she apologised breathlessly, catching her glasses before they could slide down her nose, ‘I had no idea Logan had a patient with him.’

‘Hello, Flora.’ His lazy, masculine drawl was alarmingly familiar and her eyes flew wide as she tilted her head back to take a proper look at him.

‘Oh!’ Her heart started to beat in double time and she felt decidedly faint. Her knees weakened and from a distance she heard Logan’s voice.

‘Flora, you remember my cousin Conner?’

Remember? Remember? Well, of course she remembered! She might be short-sighted, but she was still a woman! And it didn’t matter how many rules or hearts he’d broken, there wasn’t a woman alive who would forget Conner MacNeil once she’d met him.

Especially not her.

And he would have known how she’d felt because arrogance and Conner had gone hand in hand. Even as a young boy he’d known exactly what effect he had on the girls and had used it to his advantage.

But it wasn’t a boy who was standing in front of her now. It was a man. And his effect on the opposite sex had grown proportionately.

Determined not to boost his ego by revealing her thoughts, Flora screwed up her face and adopted what she hoped was a puzzled expression. ‘Conner…Conner… The name is familiar—were you below me at school? Or were you above me?’

His blue eyes glinted with wicked humour. ‘I don’t recall ever being above or below you, Flora,’ he murmured softly, ‘but that may be my defective memory.’

She felt the heat flare in her cheeks and remembered, too late, that anyone trying to play word games with Conner was always going to lose. His brain and his tongue worked in perfect unison whereas hers had always been slightly disconnected. Without fail she thought of the perfect thing to say about two days after the opportunity to say it had passed.

‘Well, you do look vaguely familiar,’ she said quickly, stepping back and concentrating her attention on Logan to cover up how unsettled she felt. A moment ago she’d been happily existing in the present, enjoying her life. The next she’d been transported back to her childhood and it was a lonely, uncomfortable place. If this was time travel, then she wanted none of it.

She’d had such a desperate, agonising crush on Conner. A crush that had been intensified by the fact that her father had forbidden her to mix with him. ‘Sorry to disturb your reunion, but Amy Price just rang me. Heather has chickenpox.’

‘And?’ Logan frowned. ‘Tell her to buy some paracetamol and chlorpheniramine from the pharmacy.’

‘I’m not worried about Heather. I’m worried about your wife. Evanna saw the child in clinic yesterday.’

‘And the child would have been infectious.’ Understanding dawned and Logan cursed softly. ‘Has Evanna had chickenpox?’

‘I don’t think so. That’s why I thought you ought to know straight away. I remember talking about it with her a few months ago. She was telling me that her mother sent her off to play with everyone who had chickenpox, but she never caught it.’

‘Chickenpox is a disease that you don’t want to catch in the third trimester of pregnancy.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

Somehow she was managing to have a normal conversation with Logan, but her head and senses were filled with Conner. In some ways he’d changed, she mused, and yet in others he hadn’t. The muscular physique was the reward of manhood but other things—the air of supreme indifference and the ice-blue eyes—had been part of the boy.

What was he doing here, anyway? Like everyone else, she’d assumed he’d never show his face on the island again.

Logan walked to his desk. ‘I’ll call Evanna now.’

‘I’ve already done it. She’s about to start her clinic, but she’ll come and talk to you first. I thought you might want to delay your first patient or pass him across to the new doctor when he arrives.’

‘Relax. She’s probably immune.’ Conner leaned his broad shoulders against the doorframe, watching them both with an expression that could have been amusement or boredom. ‘Do a blood test and check her antibody status.’

She was wrong, Flora realised with a flash of disquiet. There was nothing of the boy left. There were more changes than she’d thought, and some were so subtle that they weren’t immediately obvious. Those ice-blue eyes were sharper and more cynical, and his arrogance had clearly developed along with his muscles. What did he know about antibody status? Or was he one of those people who watched all the medical soaps on television and then assumed they were qualified to diagnose?

To make matters worse, Logan was nodding, encouraging him. ‘Yes—yes, I’ll do that, but if she’s not immune…’

‘Then you just give her zoster immunoglobulin. What’s the matter with you?’ Conner’s brows drew into a frown as he looked at his cousin. ‘This is why I’m careful not to fall in love. It fries your brain cells and obliterates your judgement.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with 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.

CHAPTER TWO

CONNER buzzed for his first patient and braced himself for the reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed.

The first man who walked through his door took one look at him, gave a horrified gasp and immediately backed out, muttering that he’d ‘wait for the other doctor’.

Conner watched him leave, his handsome face expressionless. Clearly people had long memories and he understood all about that. He hadn’t forgotten a single minute of his time on Glenmore.

With a dismissive shrug, he buzzed for the next patient and the moment Susan Ellis walked through the door, he prepared himself for a repeat performance. If he had any supporters among the islanders—and he was beginning to doubt that he had—this lady wouldn’t be among them. She ran the shop at the harbour and she had reason to know him better than most.

‘Good morning, Mrs Ellis.’ He kept his tone suitably neutral but her face reflected her shock at seeing him.

‘Conner MacNeil! So the rumours are true, then.’ She glanced behind her, obviously wondering if she’d wandered into the wrong building, and Conner lifted an eyebrow.

‘Is there something I can help you with, Mrs Ellis?’ Perhaps this wasn’t going to work after all.

‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.’

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to think quickly because there was a queue of patients waiting but then he realised that the queue was probably dwindling by the second so a slightly longer consultation wasn’t likely to matter.

‘If you’d rather see Logan, go ahead. My feelings will remain intact.’

‘I’m not thinking about your feelings,’ she said tartly. ‘I’m thinking about my health. I assume Logan knows you’re here?’

‘You think I broke a window and climbed in? Looking for drugs, maybe?’

She gave him a reproving look. ‘Don’t give me sarcasm, Conner MacNeil. I’m not afraid to admit that you wouldn’t leap to mind as someone to turn to in times of trouble.’

Clearly recalling the details of their last encounter, Conner relented slightly. ‘I don’t blame you for that.’

She studied him from the safety of the doorway, her mouth compressed into a firm line of disapproval. ‘So you’ve mended your ways. Are you really a doctor?’

‘Apparently.’

‘There’s plenty on this island who will be surprised to hear that.’

‘I’m sure that’s true.’ Conner kept his tone level. ‘Are you going or staying? Because if you’re staying, you may as well sit down. Or we can carry on this consultation standing, up if that’s what you would prefer.’

‘Not very friendly, are you?’

‘I presumed you were looking for a doctor, not a date.’

Susan Ellis gave a reluctant laugh. ‘You always were a sharp one, I’ll give you that.’ After a moment’s hesitation she closed the door and sat down gingerly on the edge of the seat, as if she hadn’t quite decided whether she was going to stay or not. ‘I’m not sure if I can talk about this with you.’

Conner sighed. It was going to be a long day. ‘As I said, if you’d rather see Logan, I quite understand.’

She fiddled with the strap of her handbag and then put it on the floor in a decisive movement. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve never been one to live in the past. Times change. People change. If you’re a doctor then—I don’t suppose you’ll be able to help me anyway.’

‘Try me.’

‘It’s hard to put a finger on when it all started, but it’s been a while.’ She glanced at Conner and he sat in silence, just listening. ‘Probably been almost a year. I’m tired, you see. All the time. And I know doctors hate hearing that. You’re going to say it’s just my age, but—’

‘I haven’t said anything yet, Mrs Ellis. You speak your lines and then I’ll speak mine.’ He could have been wrong but he thought he saw her shoulders relax slightly.

‘Fair enough. Well, I feel washed out and exhausted a lot of the time. It doesn’t matter how well I sleep or how much rest I take, I’m still tired.’ She hesitated and then sighed. ‘And a little depressed, if I’m honest. But that’s probably because I just feel so…slow. If this is getting old, I want none of it.’

‘Have you gained weight?’

She stiffened. ‘Are you going to lecture me on my eating?’

‘Are you going to answer the question?’

Susan shifted self consciously, automatically pulling in her stomach and straightening her shoulders. ‘Yes, I’ve gained weight, but I suppose that’s my age as well. You just can’t eat so much when you get older and it’s hard to change old habits. Aren’t you going to make notes? Logan always keeps meticulous notes.’

‘I prefer to listen. I’ll do the writing part later.’ Conner stood up and walked towards her, his eyes concentrating on her face. ‘Your skin is dry. Is that usual for you?’

‘Didn’t used to be but it’s usual now. My hair’s the same.’ She tilted her face so that he could take a closer look. ‘Observant, aren’t you?’

‘Sometimes.’ Having looked at her skin, Conner took her hands in his and examined them carefully. Then he looked at her eyelids. ‘You have slight oedema. Can I take a look at your feet?’

‘My feet?’

‘That’s right.’ He squatted down and helped her slip her shoes off.

‘I never thought I’d have Conner MacNeil at my feet.’

‘Savour the moment, Mrs Ellis. Do they bother you?’

‘They’re aching terribly and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a bit swollen…’ She wiggled her toes. ‘I assumed it was the heat.’

Conner examined her feet and ankles. ‘From what I’ve seen, Glenmore is in the middle of a typical summer. Wind and rain. I’m not expecting any cases of heatstroke today.’ He was sure that her feet were swollen for a very different reason.

‘We had sunshine last week. You know Glenmore—the weather is always unpredictable. A bit like you.’ She looked at him, her gaze slightly puzzled. ‘You’re very gentle. I hadn’t expected that of you.’

‘I prefer not to leave marks on my victims.’ A faint smile on his face, Conner rose to his feet. ‘The swelling isn’t caused by heat, Mrs Ellis. I can tell you that much.’ He washed his hands and picked up the IV tray that Flora had left on the trolley. ‘I’m going to take some blood.’

‘Is that really necessary?’

‘No. I just want to cause you pain.’

His patient laughed out loud. ‘Revenge, Conner?’

‘Maybe. You called the police that night.’

‘Yes, I did.’ Susan stuck out her arm. ‘You were out of control. Only eight years old and helping yourself to what you wanted from my shop.’

He ran his fingers gently over her skin, searching for a vein. ‘I needed some stuff and I didn’t have the money to pay.’

‘And how often did I hear that from the children? Plenty of them did it.’ Her laughter faded and she shook her head as she watched him. ‘But I remember you. You were different. So bold. A real rebel. Even when John, our island policeman, gave you a talking to, you didn’t cry. It was as if you were used to being shouted at. As if you’d hardened yourself.’

Conner didn’t falter. ‘You have good veins. This shouldn’t be hard.’

‘You’re not going to excuse yourself, are you?’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because we found out later that there were things happening in your house.’ She spoke softly. ‘Plenty to explain why you were the way you were.’

Suddenly the room felt bitterly cold. Conner slipped a tourniquet over her wrist. ‘Everyone’s family is complicated. Mine was no different.’