turned his head. ‘Why would you want to read me?’
‘It’s easier to deal with people if you understand them.’
A faint smile played around his firm mouth. ‘I have no particular desire to be understood,’ he said softly, ‘so you can relax.’
‘Is it too isolated from civilisation for you here? Do you hate it?’ For a long moment he didn’t reply and she was starting to wonder whether he’d even heard her question when he turned his head away and stared at the sea once more.
‘I don’t hate it.’
What sort of an answer was that? He was a man who revealed nothing about his thoughts or feelings, she thought with mounting frustration as she switched off the engine. ‘Thanks for helping me with Aisla. I’ll see you at six, Dr Walker. Enjoy your shower.’
Ethan let himself into the cottage, changed into his running gear and let himself out of the back of the house. He needed a shower, a shave and a rest, but none of those options tempted him. He didn’t want what he needed.
What he wanted was to run. Fast.
The conversation with Kyla had disturbed him and he didn’t understand why.
All he knew what that he intended to drive out the thoughts from his head with hard exercise.
Despite the sunshine, a strong wind gusted, but Ethan didn’t even notice, his expression grim and intent as he jogged to the end of the garden and down onto the beach.
As soon as his feet hit the sand he picked up speed, his long, powerful legs covering the ground in rhythmic, pounding strides as he pushing his body to its limits. His arms and legs pumped, his heart thumped and the sweat prickled between his shoulder blades, but still he ran, lengthening his stride until his pace would have been the envy of the wind. Still he pushed himself, giving himself no slack.
He ran until the sand ended and the cliff path rose upwards. He hit the slope with a fierce determination, maintaining his punishing speed through a mixture of willpower and physical fitness, his lungs and his muscles screaming a protest that he ignored.
He felt the rapid pumping of his heart as it responded to the demands of physical exertion, felt his body burn as his arms and legs pounded the earth. Felt his brain empty of everything except the need to focus on the physical task in hand.
Run, Ethan. Run.
And if he ran fast enough and hard enough, perhaps none of it would hurt any more.
Kyla stood at the bedroom window and watched.
Ethan ran like a professional athlete.
Or a man with the devil at his heels.
Even from this distance she could sense the grim determination that drove his long stride. She could almost feel the power and force of his body as he took on the elements and pushed himself with almost superhuman effort.
Kyla stared, unable to look away, captivated by the unexpected display of masculinity.
She’d only popped into the house to collect something for her afternoon clinic but then she’d happened to glance out of the window. She’d begun watching out of concern, sure that such physical exertion would cause an injury and then her gaze had turned almost greedy as she realised exactly what she was watching.
A male in his prime, at the peak of physical fitness.
This was no city boy out for a guilt-driven exercise session. This was a man who regularly pushed his body to the limit.
He ran with rhythm and surprising grace, drawing on all the strength and power of his body to meet the challenge he’d set himself.
She couldn’t see his face and yet she knew that his expression would have been set and determined. Focussed. Bleak?
Sensing that his run was more than a desire to raise his pulse rate, Kyla turned away, giving him the privacy he so clearly craved, her curiosity well and truly piqued. Her own body suddenly stirred to an uncomfortable degree.
Who was he?
His cool indifference and aloof approach to life was completely alien to her.
Who was this man who held himself slightly apart from others? And why did he affect her so strongly?
She’d spent too long cooped up on an island with people she knew too well, that was why.
Ethan Walker was a stranger. And when you lived with people who were entirely familiar, strangers were always interesting.
It was no more than that.
She gave herself a mental shake and reminded herself that she had less than ten minutes to get back to the surgery or she’d have Logan on her back.
Logan’s house was attached to the surgery and opened onto a huge garden crowded with mature apple trees.
Fresh from the shower after a busy clinic, Kyla pushed open the back gate and walked straight into the kitchen without knocking.
‘Oh!’ Evanna was standing in front of the range, stirring something in a pot. Her dark hair was caught up in a ponytail, her cheeks were pink from the heat and she was wearing a loose white dress that was summery and pretty. ‘You’re early. Can you pass me the coriander, please?’
‘Coriander?’ Kyla glanced along the work surface in confusion. ‘Is that this green, weedy-looking stuff?’ She picked it up, sniffed and handed it to Evanna. ‘If we’re early, you can blame Ethan’s car. You should see it. All black and very growly. Very high testosterone rating.’ She peered over Evanna’s shoulder into the pot. ‘Is that our dinner? It looks nice, but nothing like barbecued seafood. Did you lose the recipe?’
‘It’s chicken soup, and it’s for Kirsty who hasn’t woken up yet from her nap. Logan is hopeless with routine. He keeps waking her up for a cuddle.’ Evanna swiftly chopped the coriander, sprinkled it on the soup and glanced at her friend, a curious look in her eyes. ‘So I notice you’re calling the new doctor Ethan now? Getting friendly, are you?’
Kyla grinned. ‘No. Not yet. But I could probably be persuaded. You should have seen him running along the beach earlier. I thought my heart was going to stop. What a body! Not that you notice things like that.’
‘I’m not blind, Kyla,’ Evanna said mildly as she stirred the soup slowly. ‘I do know a handsome man when I see one, and Ethan is certainly very good looking.’
‘But?’ Kyla leaned forward and dipped a spoon in the soup, tasting it cautiously. ‘There’s a definite “but” coming. This soup is good. Can I take some for lunch tomorrow?’
‘There’s more to a man than looks, Kyla.’ Evanna gently slapped the back of her hand. ‘Leave the soup alone. It’s for Kirsty.’
‘I’m the royal taster. And there’s plenty more to Ethan than looks.’
Evanna frowned. ‘That’s what worries me. There are dark corners there. And mystery.’
‘Dark corners? Mystery?’ Kyla dropped the spoon in the sink, laughing to hide the effect that Evanna’s words had had on her. ‘You’ve been reading too many Celtic legends. Your imagination is in sprint mode. Spotted any fire-breathing dragons on your rounds?’
Evanna didn’t smile. ‘You can laugh, but I’m right. That man has secrets, Kyla.’
Kyla felt cold fingers of unease stroke her nerve endings. ‘What sort of secrets?’
‘If I knew that, they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? But I don’t think they’re good ones.’ Evanna stopped stirring and her pretty face was serious. ‘There’s something about him,’ she said softly, glancing over her shoulder to check that they were on their own. ‘Can’t you feel it? A hardness. He’s tough—a bit intimidating. I don’t know …’ She gave a shrug, obviously wishing