She’d vowed never again to let herself be swept away by emotion, but here she was, subsumed by so much emotion she was drowning in it. This kiss was claiming her, and it was as if...she’d come home.
Only of course she hadn’t. This was surely just an ex-boyfriend who’d messed with her past. She needed sense. Now!
She wasn’t sure whether Leo pulled away or she managed it, but somehow reality surfaced. Somehow they were inches away from each other.
That knock on the head must have been a doozy, she decided. She was staring at him in dawning horror. ‘We can’t do this.’ She clutched at shreds of dignity but they were nowhere to be found.
Back away, her head screamed. Leave.
‘Besides,’ she managed, ‘you’re my treating doctor. I’m concussed. Kissing me is unethical.’
‘It’s good, though,’ he said, and he had the temerity to grin. But the grin was short-lived.
She saw it fade and thought, He’s almost as disconcerted as I am.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘We’re both sorry.’
‘I need to leave.’
‘After you’ve taken me back to my room,’ she said, and suddenly she was panicking. He couldn’t just take her up to the battlements, kiss her senseless and abandon her. ‘I have no idea where I am. Three storeys up, two parapets across...or is that two storeys up, three parapets...’ She tried hard to make her voice light, trying to break through panic, which was only partly caused by the fact that she felt lost—in more ways than one. ‘I don’t want to inadvertently call on creepy Victoir.’
‘He really is creepy?’
‘He really is creepy.’ Somehow she fought to make her voice sound normal. ‘God’s gift to women, that’s his self-assessment. When I arrived he was already talking about the apartment idea, but it took him about two minutes to realise I wasn’t married, and I didn’t have two heads. I suspect he has the wedding already planned. Bedding me first, marrying my fortune second. Ugh.’
‘Ugh, indeed. Would you like me to stay?’
That was another breath-taker. ‘You’re kidding me, right? Reject Victoir and have you instead? I don’t think so.’
‘I’m not talking bedding,’ he said, and propelled her gently into the stairwell. What had happened between them only minutes ago was, apparently, to be forgotten.
Like it had been forgotten ten years ago?
‘I have work to do,’ he said, brusquely now. ‘But my aunt is staying with my mother tonight. I could come back and sleep somewhere close enough for you to call.’
Time to be honest? There seemed no choice. ‘Leo, if I called and I was half-asleep and you came, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised at what might happen,’ she admitted. ‘Face it, Leo, we’ve got a thing.’
‘A thing.’
‘A childish attraction we both need to get over. Thanks but, no, thanks. I’ll be fine.’
‘What if I send one of our nurses over?’ he asked. ‘Any one of them would be thrilled for a chance to stay inside the castle. I’ll tell Victoir I want observations to be continued—maybe I’m worried about your emotional state.’
‘My emotional state...’
‘Concussion’s a dangerous thing.’ They’d reached the landing leading to the passage to her wing. He turned and faced her, smiling, slightly ruefully. ‘What just happened was totally out of character, I’m sure. Probably a result of your accident.’
‘It was dumb,’ she snapped. She felt so disoriented.
‘I agree,’ he said.
And again she thought, He’s too close, too male, too... Leo?
‘I was just as dumb. But, Anna, can I send a nurse to stay with you?’
And she looked up into his face and saw concern. Real concern.
This was nonsense. Why was she suddenly blinking back tears?
‘I would appreciate...company,’ she managed, and he nodded.
‘Sensible. I’ll send Juana over as soon as I get back.’
‘You won’t be short-staffed without her?’
‘She’ll be off duty, here to sleep, but she’ll love to see this place. I suspect you might need obs for the entire time you stay here, a different nurse each time.’
‘And if I stay permanently?’
‘That really is an option?’
She took a deep breath and turned to face outward, through the deep, narrow slit that was used to light the stairwell, or, in more dangerous times, to shoot arrows on marauders threatening to storm the castle.
This castle was ages old, a vast, abiding reminder of Tovahna’s history. It was also a cache of Tovahna’s wealth, kept from the island’s residents because of the greed of a family she wanted nothing to do with.
But she was part of that family, the last surviving remnant.
She could walk away, live in luxury for twenty years and then sell to the highest bidder.
Or she could make a difference.
She turned back to Leo, this man she’d once trusted with her heart. She wouldn’t do that again. She wasn’t stupid.
But she did trust him...with everything else. This place could be a hospital? She could make a difference?
She thought fleetingly of her lovely little cottage back in England, her cosy life. To abandon everything to live in a castle...
To make a difference.
With Leo?
Dammit, just say yes.
‘Yes,’ she said, almost defiantly, and then she said it again, loudly, so her voice echoed up and down the stairwell. ‘Yes, Leo, staying is an option. In fact, from this angle, with the trustees’ consent, it looks like a certainty.’ And then her voice wobbled again. What was she doing, making a decision like this so fast?
And he got it. ‘You can’t make a decision like this tonight,’ he told her. ‘Think about it. Talk to this... Martin.’ And then he hesitated. ‘Anna, let me take you out of here for a day.’ His voice cut across her resolution and she thought... What?
‘Out where?’
‘To see what you’d be doing.’ His voice was strange, grim even. It was as if he was struggling between fantasy and reality as well. Was he? She didn’t know. Did she know anything?
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you need to go into this with your eyes wide open.’ He said it almost reluctantly. ‘You need to see the bigger picture. But not tomorrow,’ he told her hurriedly. ‘You need to rest. But maybe Saturday? Bruno and Freya will both be back at work by then, and there’s no clinic. I could try for a day off. I’d like to show you the real Tovahna—the people you’ll be helping if you decide to go ahead with...what you’re proposing.’
And she thought, He’s like me. He does still think it’s fantasy. ‘I think I’ve already decided,’ she said, but that wobble was still there.
‘Anna, you’ve been concussed,’ he said, gently now. ‘I can’t let you make promises now. But in a few days, when your head’s not aching... Anna, will you trust me to show you my island, to show you my people? To let you see how much these fantastic dreams could change lives? Give me a day.’
A whole day with Leo?
Oh, she felt fuzzy. She felt like she was floating in fantasy but she had enough sense to realise that what Leo was suggesting was sensible. She should make no promises tonight.
But a whole day...
Her big, warm, lovely Leo.
No. He wasn’t hers. He was a colleague, nothing else. And if he was a colleague and nothing else, then why not?
‘Saturday,’ she said, before she could change her mind. ‘It sounds like a plan to me. A nice island tour and nothing else, Leo Aretino. And now thank you very much but I need to go to bed.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
TOVAHNA’S CASTLE HAD been built and fortified to defend the island from barbarians. If I’d been leading them I might have fo
ught harder, Anna thought. This island was worth fighting for.
She was sitting in the passenger seat of Leo’s ancient Fiat. The roads were appalling, a potholed mess, but decrepit roads and old cars couldn’t detract from the beauty around her.
The coast road alone was enough to take her breath away. The sea was sapphire-blue, the cliffs were low, white stone or sandy, and there was bay after bay that screamed, Stop, paddle or swim, now.
They’d left the single row of shops that served the town, and were now on the sparsely populated far side of the island. Ancient stone cottages were set far apart, but people were still around, working in the olive groves or in veggie gardens, mending nets on the beaches, walking along the road from farm to farm. Leo’s faded red Fiat was obviously well known, because every islander waved or called as he came into view.
He waved back but he was mostly silent. Letting Anna see the place without a running commentary?
For which she was grateful. She felt ill at ease with this man but she did want to see the island. It would have felt petty to knock back his offer, especially since her alternative chauffeur was Victoir.
But she had to find words soon. It was as if he was waiting for her to take it in, waiting for her verdict.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said at last as they topped a crest and miles of olive groves and the sparkling sea beyond spread out before her. Masses of wild roses—a species apparently endemic to the island—lined the road sides, breathtakingly beautiful. ‘I can understand why you wanted to come back.’
‘Needed to come back,’ he corrected her. ‘Don’t let the beauty fool you. It disguises desperate need. Anna, would you mind if we stopped for a few moments? Dino Costa’s ninety and he’s pretty much bedbound. If I could check on him now it might save me a trip next week. There’s a cove below the house. You might like to sit on a rock and watch the water, or take a stroll.’
‘Of course,’ she said, and then said diffidently, ‘Unless you need some help.’ She thought of the elderly, housebound clients she’d treated in her years of family doctoring. Social contact was the best medicine. Sometimes an interesting visit could do more good than any medicine she could prescribe.
So say it. ‘Unless you think Dino might like to meet me,’ she added, and Leo flashed her a look of surprise.
There was a moment’s silence, and then, ‘You mean it?’
‘If you think it could help.’
And he got it. She saw his faint smile. ‘For Dino...meeting you? Not only would he love it, it’ll bring in every neighbour to hear all about it. For Dino that’d be gold.’ He hesitated. ‘He won’t be polite, though. If you can take it...’
She grinned at that. ‘Hey, I’m a family doctor. I’ve coped with plenty of abusive patients in my time. Besides, I already know what the islanders think of me. Bring it on.’
So they stopped at an ancient stone cottage set back from the cliffs, surrounded by olive trees that looked as if they hadn’t been tended for years. A mass of lemon trees crowded the back garden, loaded with unused fruit. The ground was rough and stony. Apart from the pervasive wild roses, any attempt at a garden had been abandoned long since and the little dog that emerged to greet them looked as dejected as the surroundings he obviously lived in.
But Leo obviously knew him. He knelt and fondled his ears, brushing debris from his dust-coloured coat.
‘Hey, Zitto, how’s your master today?’
The little dog wriggled his pleasure as he realised he knew this visitor. Tail now wagging, he led the way through the open back door into the house.
‘Dino? Are you open for visitors?’
‘Leo?’ It was a quavering old voice, rising in response. ‘Is that you?’
‘It definitely is,’ Leo called back. ‘Dino, I’ve brought a guest to meet you. Anna Castlavara. Is it okay to bring her in?’
‘The Castlavara? In my home? You’re telling me lies, Leo Aretino.’
‘See for yourself,’ Leo said, and ushered Anna in before him.
The old man was seated in a rocker by the fire. The woodstove was burning fiercely, on a day when it was already hot, but Anna was accustomed to visiting houses of the very old. Heat was a medicine all on its own. He struggled to rise but she crossed quickly and stooped to take his hand.
‘Don’t get up on my account,’ she told him. ‘I’m just here as background while Dr Leo does his checks.’
‘I’ll make tea,’ the old man said, sounding distressed. ‘I should have...’
‘Dino’s accustomed to Victoir checking rent rolls,’ Leo told her. ‘He’s not accustomed to actual visits from...’
‘I’m not a Castlavaran,’ she said, quickly before he could finish. ‘Signor Costa, I may have inherited the castle but I’m Anna Raymond. Dr Anna Raymond.’ She gazed around the kitchen, thinking of the fuss involved in making tea, but of this man’s obvious need to be hospitable. Her eyes fell on an empty bottle on the table. There were similar bottles, cleaned and empty, stacked on a shelf, each with a handwritten name scrawled on the front, and there were a couple of full ones on the dresser. A home brew? Excellent.
‘Hey, it’s almost lunchtime. Could I ask...maybe a tiny limoncello? If you have it?’
It was like flicking a switch. The old man’s eyes gleamed with delight. He hauled himself to his feet, pushing away Leo’s hand as he instinctively went to help.
‘I make it myself,’ he told them. ‘All my own lemons. Our own lemons. My grandfather went to Sorrento, many, many years ago. Took a job on a fishing boat. Off he went and no one heard of him for years and then back he came with nothing but a bag full of lemon root stock. Femminello St Teresa, the best lemon in the world. “It’ll make our fortune,” he said, and of course it didn’t but maybe the best limoncello is enough.’
He was fumbling in the dresser, producing three dusty glasses—crystal. He wiped them off with a frayed dishcloth, then headed to the refrigerator. Out of the freezer came a bottle like the others—filled, though, with a clear, bright yellow liquid, and frosted over with ice.
Three tumblers full. He poured them with infinite care, struggling to keep his hand from shaking—but both Leo and Anna knew better than to offer to help. Finally he handed them over. He straightened and Anna could almost hear his back creaking with the effort.
‘To you,’ he said, and raised an unsteady arm. ‘You can’t be worse than those before you, girl.’
‘I might even be better,’ she suggested, tilting her glass in response and feeling the amazing tang of frozen lemon burst in her mouth. ‘Like your limoncello...you mix local with imported and you get a whole new flavour. Signor Costa, this is the best limoncello I’ve ever tasted. You know, this island has now imported a brand-new Castlavaran. So, like your limoncello, who knows what you’ll get from me?’
* * *
Afterwards Leo wanted to check an abscess and it was obvious her welcome didn’t extend to sharing that. So she did what Leo had suggested. She found a rock and looked out over the bay.
Leo found her there twenty minutes later. He sat down beside her and did a little bay-watching himself.
‘Thank you,’ he said at last. ‘That’ll be all over the island by yesterday—that you deigned to approve his limoncello.’
‘I’ve been trained on Mavis Donohue’s raspberry cordial,’ she told him. ‘She calls it cordial but it’s about ninety percent proof. A glass full of cordial, about a teaspoon of soda and she beams the whole time I drink it. Luckily for me—and for the rest of her visitors—she has glaucoma. She has the most amazing pot plants, which I’m sure are now about eighty percent proof themselves.’
‘So rating of Dino’s limoncello...’
‘Dino’s limoncello is a thousand times better. There was no way a pot plant was getting that.’
‘And it made his day,’ he said softly. ‘Thank you, Anna.’
‘I’m not all bad,’ she said, disconcerted by the gentleness of his tone.
‘I know that. Not even a tiny bit.’
‘Except for...’
‘Let’s not go there,’ he told her. ‘It’s too good a day. Plus there’s a bottle of limoncello for you in the car. He said...and I quote... “It’ll sweeten her up, boy, and if anything this island needs it’s a Castlavaran with a sweetened heart.”’
‘I’m not a Castlavaran!’
‘And yet you need to be. As Anna Raymond you can return to your life in England. As the Castlavaran you can do good here.’
‘But still be treated as the Castlavaran.’
‘You can’t escape it.’
‘No.’ She stared sightlessly out at the sea and let her thoughts drift. And finally she let herself say it.
‘You can’t escape it either,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do. You say you walked away because your country would have rejected you if you’d stayed with me. What about your pride?’
‘Anna...’
‘Victoir told me,’ she said. ‘I know Victoir’s a sleazebag, but he’s useful for information. He was warning me against you, or thought he was. He said, “His family is dirt poor.” He almost sneered it. “As a child he was ragged, living on charity. For him to demand entry to the castle, to try and lord it over us because he has medical qualifications... He’s a nothing. Any approach by him...be warned. He’s out for what he can get.”’
‘Did he really say that?’
‘Pretty much.’ She cheered up a little then, hauling herself back to here and now. After all, this was history they were speaking of. ‘Out for what you can get? That’s the last thing I’d think of you. But is that yet another reason you walked away—you were afraid of my fabulous wealth? Rags to riches and you chose rags?’
Second Chance with Her Island Doc Page 10