by Sarah Morgan
‘We share the clinics and the house calls. The deputising service does the on call and weekends.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And any filming or fancy stuff that you want to do takes place outside surgery time.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘Thanks for the welcome, Riggs.’
She stiffened. What did he want? Applause? ‘If you’re expecting a red carpet and a cheering crowd, you’re not going to get one here.’
‘Evidently.’
‘And I’ll sort out Glenda.’
‘Her mother is my patient.’
‘Your father’s patient.’
He shrugged. ‘Same thing. As you just said, I’m taking my father’s patients.’ He gave a humourless laugh as he realised what he’d just said. ‘Following the old man’s dream.’
‘But not your dream, thank goodness.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Why “thank goodness”?’
‘Because if you decided to take over your father’s half of the practice permanently, we’d really be in trouble.’ Frowning, Anna studied him. ‘We can make this work because it’s temporary, McKenna. Let’s both remember that. Temporary.’
‘If you think I’d want to make this a permanent arrangement then you’re even more deranged than I already think you are.’ He stifled a yawn and strolled out of the room as if he had all the time in the world, leaving her ready to punch something.
CHAPTER THREE
‘SUBSIDENCE.’
‘Sorry?’ Anna juggled several bags and her mobile phone as she tried to concentrate on what the surveyor was saying. She still had one more house call to make before she finished for the evening.
‘This cottage that you’re hoping to buy has subsidence.’ The man stepped back and angled his head. ‘Didn’t you notice that the windows are crooked?’
Anna followed his gaze, squinting against the bright evening sunshine. ‘It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with it. Crooked windows add to the character, Mike. They’re what makes it quaint.’
‘They’re what makes it dangerous and a complete no-no for your mortgage company.’ The surveyor looked at her sympathetically. ‘I hope you’re better at diagnosing patients than you are buildings, Doc. If this was an animal and you were a vet, you’d be putting it down.’
Anna groaned and dropped two of her bags. ‘Mike, no! I don’t need this. Tell me you’re joking. You have to be joking. This is my new home.’
Her dream.
Her cottage by the beach.
‘Not joking.’ He shook his head solemnly, stepping back to look at the cottage with a gloomy expression on his face. ‘It’s a bad lot, Anna, love. Let it go.’
‘Let it go? No way.’ Anna stuck out her chin at an angle that made the surveyor sigh.
‘Determination and backbone isn’t going to fix this one, I’m afraid. The only way this is going to be yours is if you put up all the cash yourself.’
Anna almost growled with frustration. ‘You know I can’t do that.’
‘Or find a rich man.’
Anna kicked a stone at the mere thought. ‘I don’t attract rich men. Rich men want useless trophy wives who’ll agree with everything they say.’
Mike laughed. ‘Not much chance of that with you. In which case, I think you’re looking at another house, Anna.’
Anna shook her head in denial and disbelief. ‘But it’s all going through. I’ve chosen the curtains…’
Mike shrugged. ‘Hang them in your next house,’ he advised, ‘but you have to give this one a miss. It’s a bundle of trouble.’
Anna closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Did nothing in her life ever go right any more?
‘It isn’t exactly that simple, is it? I sold my flat two weeks ago, Mike, on the strength of moving into this place. I’ve been lodging with the McKennas while I’ve been waiting for the sale to go through.’
And much as she loved their place, it wasn’t the same as having somewhere of her own.
‘And they’re away for the summer so they’ll be glad to have you in their house for the duration.’
‘It was just temporary.’ She ran her fingers through her dark hair in a gesture of frustration. ‘Just a couple of weeks to tide me over.’
Anna looked at the little cottage that had been part of her dreams.
Subsidence.
For a moment she let the wild, romantic side of her that she rarely acknowledged enjoy a wonderful dream about somehow finding the money and moving in, despite the subsidence. Then the practical side took over. As it always did.
‘OK.’ Her voice was weary and resigned. ‘So I’ll tell the solicitors that it’s all off. And I’ll start house-hunting again. In the meantime, I’ll have to find a place to rent.’
Damn, damn and double damn. With David away and her workload already ridiculously heavy, she didn’t have time for house-hunting. And anyway, she didn’t want any old house. She wanted this one. She’d coveted it for years.
‘In the summer?’ Mike snapped his briefcase shut and gave her a rueful smile. ‘Forget it, love. No chance. Why not just stay on at the McKennas’?’
Because she wanted her own home.
And because Sam was there.
Anna bit her lip.
‘I’ll find a place to rent.’ She lifted her chin in a gesture of pure determination that had Mike sighing.
Anyone who had known Anna Riggs as a child recognised that look, and it wasn’t to be messed with.
‘OK, well, good luck. And call me when you find your next place. I don’t want you ripped off.’
Anna gave him a wan smile. ‘Thanks, Mike. I think.’
It wasn’t his fault he’d had to give her bad news and she knew he had her best interests at heart.
That was another benefit of living in a small community, she mused as she watched Mike walk back up the path towards his car. People looked out for each other. Cared. There was no way that would happen in a city. Where was the goodwill among strangers?
Acknowledging that all the goodwill in the world was unlikely to find her a place to rent at the peak of the tourist season, Anna carried her bags back to her car, made her last call and drove up the coast road to the McKennas’.
Their spectacular house sat on a curve in the bay, just steps from the beach. It was the best property for miles around and it had been the McKennas’ home for ever. Usually she loved coming here. Just walking up the path and breathing in the sea air was enough to put her in a good mood.
Not today.
Today, Sam’s low, black sports car was parked outside, a blatant statement of masculine self-indulgence that irritated her beyond belief. Why couldn’t he just drive a normal family car?
Because Sam McKenna wasn’t a normal family man.
He was a stallion on the loose. A lone male who had no intention of attaching himself to anything or anybody. And he was undoubtedly not going to be pleased to discover that he’d just got himself a housemate. It would seriously cramp his style.
Anna almost smiled at the thought. If living here for a while was going to irritate Sam, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
Bracing herself for conflict, she let herself in and paused. The house was silent so she opened the French windows that led from the spacious sitting-room and walked onto the bleached wooden deck that overlooked the beach below. Squinting at the foaming waves, she could see several surfers and gave a short laugh. Undoubtedly one of them would be Sam. He obviously hadn’t wasted any time in enjoying the benefits of Cornwall. For a wild moment she was tempted to join him and then she remembered the calls she had to make and the stack of medical journals that she was determined to at least scan before tomorrow.
Feeling uncomfortably sticky from her long working day and the warm weather, Anna showered quickly and washed her hair. Then she pulled on a pair of skimpy shorts, an equally skimpy top, poured herself a cold drink and walked onto the terrace to catch up on some reading.
‘Nice to know you couldn’t stay away from me, Riggs.’<
br />
She dropped the medical journal she was reading and registered the time with a twinge of shock. It was always like that with her. She became so absorbed in what she was reading that the world outside ceased to exist.
She glanced up at Sam, at the broad shoulders clearly outlined by the wet suit, at the growth of stubble on his hard jaw. He looked wickedly handsome and the long, leisurely look he gave her irritated her in the extreme.
No matter that they couldn’t stand the sight of each other. If it was female, he still had to look. He just couldn’t help himself.
‘Stop staring, McKenna.’ She gave him a frosty stare. ‘I’m not one of your bimbos.’
He gave her a maddening grin, water dripping from his dark hair onto his wet suit. ‘You’ve got good legs, Riggs. Always have had. But fortunately for both of us the rest of you is questionable so I’m able to resist you. I prefer my women gentle and cuddly.’
‘You prefer your women brainless.’
He reached for a towel which he’d slung over the back of a chair in readiness for his return. “‘Soft” is the word I’d choose. Soft and yielding. You’re more like a cactus. A man could get injured touching you.’
‘If you touched me then you’d definitely be injured.’ She angled her head and shot him a warning glance. ‘And if being a cactus keeps you away, that’s fine by me.’ Feeling unaccountably warm under his lazy gaze, she glared at him. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.’
He wandered back into the house and returned with a cold beer. ‘I know why you’re here.’ He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank deeply, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed. ‘You find me irresistible. Don’t worry about it. Women often do. You’ll learn to live with the feeling.’
Anna glanced down at the beach below them. ‘Just how far is the drop from here?’
He gave an appreciative grin and set the beer down on the table. ‘Far enough. Why?’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Do you want to give it a go?’
She gritted her teeth. ‘Don’t tempt me, McKenna. If you have any concern for your safety, you’ll drink that beer somewhere else.’
His grin widened. ‘Trouble is, this is my home, Riggs, and you’re the one sitting on my deck.’
‘It’s your parents’ deck. And, believe me, I wouldn’t be here unless there was a crisis.’
‘My parents love having you. You’re like a daughter to them.’ He reached for the beer again. ‘So what’s the crisis?’
She bit her lip. She hated even saying the words. Hadn’t got used to the idea herself yet. ‘My house purchase has fallen through.’
He frowned. ‘You sold your flat? What was wrong with it?’
‘I wanted something bigger. Somewhere nearer the sea.’
‘Yeah. You always did dream about that. Living virtually on the sand. Another one of your plans.’ His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the view from his parents’ deck. ‘And maybe I don’t blame you for that. I have to admit, it doesn’t get much better than this.’
‘It’s a perfect spot,’ Anna agreed, ‘so why are you in London?’
He lifted the beer to his lips. ‘Because there’s more to life than a good view and a swim in the surf, Riggs. So where was the house? The one that you were hoping to buy?’
‘Tub’s Creek.’
‘Old Jack Lawson’s place?’
Anna nodded. Of course Sam would remember. He’d been brought up here, just like her. ‘He died six months ago. Had a massive heart attack just after Christmas.’
‘Not surprised with all the smoking, eating and drinking he usually did.’ Sam gave a rueful smile. ‘I think we can safely say that he lived life to the full. What was wrong with the cottage? Subsidence?’
Anna’s jaw fell. ‘How do you know?’
He shrugged. ‘Common sense. It was pretty old and the windows were wonky. Had to be something.’
Anna sighed. ‘I thought wonky windows gave a place character.’
‘And major structural problems,’ Sam said dryly. ‘So now you’re homeless.’
‘I completed on the flat two weeks ago. It was that or lose the sale. I was expecting to exchange and complete in two weeks. It never occurred to me that there’d be a problem that I couldn’t cope with. I was ready to buy it regardless.’
Sam shrugged broad shoulders. ‘So buy it.’
‘With what?’ Anna shot him an impatient look. ‘I need a mortgage and unfortunately people don’t lend you money on wrecks.’
‘Find somewhere new. Somewhere with straight windows.’
‘Given the fact your father has landed me with a dud locum, I won’t have the time to trawl estate agents. I’ll rent for now.’
He ignored the dig and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Rent? You’re kidding. How do you expect to find somewhere to rent at this time of year? Every inch of available bed space is already let out to tourists. You wouldn’t even find a stable.’
‘All right, well, I’ll sleep in the surgery if I have to,’ she said irritably, and he yawned.
‘Why would you need to? You can sleep here as far as I’m concerned. With six bedrooms, the house is big enough for both of us. You’ll just have to try and resist me.’
‘Believe me, no house would ever be big enough for both of us. Your ego takes up too much space.’
‘Don’t push your luck.’ He finished the beer. ‘I’m trying to be generous and giving here. If you’re going to argue, you can sleep on the damned beach.’
‘Sorry.’ Something that she couldn’t identify made her suddenly need to apologise. She ran a hand through her hair which had dried sleek and straight. It fell past her shoulders, halfway down her back. ‘I’m just disappointed about the house. Worried about your dad. Anxious about the practice.’
Unsettled.
‘Scared about the future.’ Sam’s gaze fixed on hers. ‘Safe Anna. Careful Anna. Anna the planner. So ballsy on the outside but on the inside you crave security.’
She bit her lip, hating the fact that he knew her so well.
‘Spare me the amateur psychology. Anyway, what’s wrong with planning? And what’s wrong with enjoying life and wanting it to stay the same?’
‘Nothing. But think what you could be missing.’
She frowned. ‘There’s nothing missing in my life.’
‘Apart from a social life.’
‘I have a perfectly satisfactory social life, thank you.’
He leaned against the balcony, the wet suit lovingly displaying every muscular curve of his body. ‘Bingo on a Friday, lobster night at the Dog and Duck. The beach barbecue. Take-away seafood from Hilda’s Kitchen. Wow.’
‘Never underestimate Hilda’s seafood.’ Anna clamped her jaw shut to prevent herself from rising to the bait. It was true that her social life was pathetically limited but that was as much because she was exhausted all the time as to lack of opportunity. By the time she finished work all she had the energy for was a date with a good book. But that was fine for now. She was busy establishing herself as a GP. Time for the rest later. It was all part of her life plan.
She leaned back in her chair and pretended to enjoy the view. ‘At least my social life doesn’t make the newspapers. Face it, McKenna, you just can’t settle down with one woman, can you?’
Every time she saw a picture of him, he had a different woman on his arm. Usually blonde. Usually extremely curvaceous. None of them looked like the marrying type.
‘Why would I want to?’
‘Your mother is waiting for grandchildren.’
He threw his head back and laughed, a rich masculine sound that triggered an answering feminine response deep inside her. ‘I hope she’s a slow knitter.’
Suddenly Anna found herself noticing the tiny creases around his eyes and the way his jaw flexed when he smiled.
Disturbed by such unusually intimate observations, she rose to her feet and walked towards the house. His voice stopped her in the doorway.
‘So, what are we eating tonight, Riggs?�
��
She turned back to face him, one brow arched in question. ‘How would I know?’
‘Perhaps because you’ve been living here for a few weeks? Presumably you’ve filled the fridge? Planned a few meals? Surprise me.’
She smiled sweetly. ‘You’ve been reading fairy tales again. I’m not Little Red Riding Hood and you’re every bit as capable of making a meal as I am. Probably more. You know where the fridge is, McKenna. If you want to eat, eat. Don’t involve me in it.’
She hated to cook, even for herself. There was no way she’d be cooking for Sam. Unless she was aiming to poison him.
‘Well, presumably you have to eat at some point, too.’
She leaned against the door-frame, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her legs long and lightly tanned. ‘I don’t see why my eating habits are of any interest to you.’
‘It’s just that if you’re cooking, it’s as easy to cook for two as one.’
‘If you’re hoping I’m going to cook for you then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.’
Those blue eyes flashed a challenge. ‘Eating is supposed to be an opportunity for social interaction between people.’
‘People who like each other, McKenna. We don’t. All the more reason for us to eat alone.’
He straightened up, his body lithe and powerful, stretching his shoulders to relieve the tension. ‘All right. You never did quite have the woman thing sorted. So it looks as though I’m cooking.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Despite her vow not to rise to the bait, she couldn’t stay silent. ‘I’ve had enough of your digs for one night. What do you mean, I never did quite have the woman thing sorted?’
He hooked the empty beer bottle with his finger, his movements slow and casual. ‘You just don’t do woman stuff, do you? Never have.’
‘Woman stuff? What woman stuff? You want me to dress in pink?’
He grinned. ‘Can’t see you in pink somehow.’
She made a mental note to buy something pink at the earliest opportunity. ‘So what exactly do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘You don’t cook. You don’t play house. You just don’t do girly stuff.’