Sarah Morgan

Summer Kisses


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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