by Sarah Morgan
Her gaze met his and their eyes held.
The rhythm of her heart altered and the oxygen was sucked from the air. The world shrank to this one place—this one man.
Everything else was forgotten.
Mesmerised by those blue eyes, Jenna felt her body come to life, like the slow, sensual unfolding of a bud under the heat of the sun. Not the sultry, languid heat of summer sunshine but the fierce, rapacious scorch of sexual awareness. Like a volcano too long dormant after centuries of sleep, it exploded violently—blowing the lid on everything she believed herself to be. Excitement ripped through her like a consuming, ravenous fire, and in her newly sensitised state she found staring longingly at the firm lines of his mouth.
If she wanted to kiss him, she could…
She was a free woman now.
The shriek of a seagull brought her to her senses and Jenna took a step backwards.
What on earth was she thinking? If she did something crazy, like kissing him, he’d fire her from her job, Lexi would have a nervous breakdown, and she’d be more of an emotional wreck than she was already. And anyway, if she hadn’t been able to trust someone she’d known for fifteen years, what chance was there with someone she’d known for fifteen minutes?
Jenna straightened her shoulders. ‘You’re right. I worry far too much about her. I intend to work on that this summer. I’m hoping it will be easier here.’ Unfortunately her bright, businesslike tone did nothing to dissipate the strange turbulence inside her. She needed to be on her own, so that she could undo whatever she’d just done to herself by looking at him. And she was sure he was desperate to escape from her, albeit for different reasons.
‘Thanks so much for the lift, Dr McKinley. I’m sorry to hold you up.’
‘You’re not holding me up.’ Instead of leaving, as she’d expected, he walked back towards the house. ‘Do you have any caffeine?’
Pulling herself together, Jenna followed him. ‘Pardon?’
‘Caffeine. I’m feeling tired, and there’s still most of the day to get through.’ Suppressing a yawn, he walked through to the kitchen without asking for directions or permission. ‘I need coffee. Strong coffee.’
‘I thought you’d need to dash off somewhere—lunch, house-calls…’ She had thought he’d be anxious to escape from her—the desperate divorcee…
‘We try not to do too much dashing on Glenmore.’ Concentration on his face, he pulled open a cupboard and rummaged through the contents. ‘It’s bad for the heart. Which do you prefer? Tea or coffee?’
‘Either. I mean—I haven’t had time to shop.’
‘The kitchen should be stocked.’
‘Oh.’ Jenna was about to ask who could possibly have stocked the kitchen when the phone rang. She jumped. ‘Who on earth can that be?’
‘Why don’t you answer it and see? Phone’s in the hall.’
Jenna found the phone, answered it, and immediately wished she hadn’t because it was her mother. ‘Hi, Mum.’ Oh, no, she absolutely didn’t want to have this conversation with Ryan McKinley listening. Why, oh, why had she given her this number? ‘No, everything is fine—’ All her newfound tranquillity faded as her mother’s cold disapproval trickled down the line like liquid nitrogen, freezing everything in its path. ‘No, the doctors here don’t care that I’m divorced.’ She lowered her voice and turned away from the kitchen, hoping Ryan couldn’t hear her above the hum of the kettle. ‘No, the patients don’t care, either—’ She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think of Mrs Parker. ‘And I’m not trying to ruin Lexi’s life—it’s kind of you to offer, but I don’t think living with you would have been the best thing, Mum. I need to do this on my own—no, I’m not being stubborn—’
The conversation went the way it always went, with her mother stirring up every unpleasant emotion she could. Reminding herself to get caller ID, so that she could speak to her mother only when she was feeling really strong, Jenna gripped the phone. ‘Yes, I know you’re very disappointed with the way things have turned out—I’m not whispering—’
By the time the conversation ended her throat was clogged and her eyes stung. Whatever magic the cottage had created had been undone. The knot was back in her stomach.
All she wanted was moral support. Was that really too much to ask from a mother?
Knowing that she wasn’t capable of going back into the kitchen without making a fool of herself, Jenna stood for a moment in the hallway, still holding the phone to her ear. It was only when it was gently removed from her hand that she realised Ryan was standing next to her.
He replaced the receiver in the cradle and curved his hand over her shoulder, his touch firm. ‘Are you all right?’
Jenna nodded vigorously, not trusting herself to speak. But the feel of his hand sent a warm glow through her body. It had been so long since anyone had touched her. She’d been divorced for months, and even during her marriage there hadn’t been that much touching. Clive had never been tactile. More often than not he’d had dinner with clients or colleagues, which had meant she was in bed and asleep long before him. Even when they had made it to bed at the same time he’d been perfunctory, fumbling, as if making love to her had been another task on his ‘to do’ list and not something to be prolonged.
She was willing to bet that Ryan McKinley had never fumbled in his life.
His broad shoulders were there, right next to her, and Jenna had a powerful urge to just lean against him for a moment and see if some of his strength could be transferred to her by touch alone.
They stepped back from each other at exactly the same time, as if each had come to the same conclusion.
Not this. Not now.
‘I found the coffee.’ His voice was rough. ‘We need scissors or a knife to open this.’
Blinking rapidly to clear the tears misting her eyes, Jenna saw that he was holding a packet of fresh coffee in his free hand. ‘Great.’ Appalled to realise how close she’d come to making a fool of herself, she took the coffee from his hand and walked back into the kitchen. Keeping her back to him, she opened the drawers one by one until she found a knife.
He followed her. ‘Does a conversation with your mother always upset you like this?’
‘How do you know it was my mother?’
‘I heard you say, “Hi, Mum”.’
‘Oh.’ If he’d heard that, then he’d heard everything—which meant that there was no point in trying to keep the messy details of her life a secret. Jenna stared down at the knives in the drawer. ‘Stupid, isn’t it? I’m thirty-three. She shouldn’t have an effect on me, but she does. She has a talent for tapping into my deep-seated fears—exposing thoughts I’m having but would never admit even to myself.’ She closed her fingers around the handle of a knife. ‘She thinks I’ve made the wrong decision, coming here.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I don’t know any more.’ The tears were back in her eyes, blurring her vision. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. But now I’m worrying that what’s right for me might be wrong for Lexi. I’ve uprooted her. I’ve dragged her away from everything familiar. We had to leave our home, but I didn’t have to come this far away—’ Taking the knife from the drawer, Jenna turned, wishing she hadn’t said so much. ‘Sorry. You wanted a cup of coffee, not a confessional. My call has held you up. If you want to change your mind and get on with your day, I quite understand.’
It was mortifying, having your life exposed in front of a stranger.
‘I’m not leaving until I’ve had my coffee. I’m not safe to drive.’ He leaned against the granite work surface, thumbs hooked in his pockets. ‘Why did you have to move?’
‘I’m divorced.’ There seemed no point in not being honest. Why keep it a secret?
It had happened. There was no going back. She had to get used to it.
The problem was that once people knew you were divorced, they inevitably wanted to know why.
Jenna stared at the coffee in her hand, trying not to think abo
ut the girl with the long legs and the blond hair who had been lying on her husband’s desk having crazy, abandoned sex. When had she ever had crazy, abandoned sex? When had she ever lost control? Been overwhelmed—?
‘Careful! You’re going to cut yourself—’ A frown on his face, Ryan removed the knife from her hand. ‘In fact you have cut yourself. Obviously this isn’t a conversation to have while you’re holding a sharp object. Let me look at that for you.’
Jenna watched as blood poured down her finger. ‘Oh!’
Ryan took her hand and held it under the tap, cleaned it and then examined the cut. ‘We need to find a plaster. Call me traditional, but I prefer milk in my coffee.’ He was cool and calm, but Jenna was thoroughly embarrassed, and she tugged her hand away from his, dried it in a towel and applied pressure.
‘Stupid of me. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘You were thinking of your ex-husband. Perhaps I should clear the knives out of the cutlery drawer.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.’
‘Obviously not, or your hand wouldn’t be bleeding now. And no one emerges from divorce completely unscathed.’
‘I didn’t say I was unscathed, Dr McKinley. I said I was fine.’
‘Ryan—’ He handed her another piece of kitchen roll for her finger. ‘Call me Ryan. Round here we tend to be pretty informal. Do you always pretend everything is OK when it isn’t?’
‘I’m just starting a new job. I don’t want everyone knowing I have baggage.’ She pressed her finger hard, trying to stop the bleeding, exasperated with herself. ‘It won’t affect my work.’
‘No one is suggesting that it would. Everyone has baggage, Jenna. You don’t have to wrap it up and hide it.’
‘Yes, I do. For Lexi’s sake. I’ve seen couples let rip at each other through their kids and there is no way I’m going to let that happen. I refused to let it be acrimonious. I refuse to be a bitter ex-wife.’
‘So you grit your teeth and shed your tears in private?’ Ryan took her hand and strapped a plaster to her finger.
‘Something like that.’ She’d bottled up the humiliation, the devastation, the sense of betrayal—the sense of failure. All those years people had been waiting for her to fail. And she’d failed in spectacular style.
Feeling the familiar sickness inside her, Jenna snatched her hand away from his. ‘Sorry. I’m talking too much. If you’re sure you still want it, I’ll make you that coffee.’
‘I’ll make it. You press on that finger.’
Watching him perform that simple task with swift efficiency, Jenna couldn’t help comparing him with Clive, who had never made her a cup of coffee in all the years they’d been together. ‘Do you live far from the practice, Dr Mc— Ryan?’
‘In the old lighthouse, three bays round from this one. You can walk there in twenty minutes along the coast path.’
Jenna remembered what Mrs Parker had said about him living like a hermit. ‘The views must be fantastic. If I had a lighthouse, I’d have my bedroom right in the top so that I could look at the view.’
‘Then we think alike.’ He poured fresh coffee into two mugs. ‘Because I have a three-hundred–and-sixty-degree view from my bedroom.’
For some reason Jenna had a vision of Ryan sprawled in bed, and she felt a strange flutter behind her ribs, like butterflies trying to escape from a net.
‘Lucky you.’ Her image of leaning against his shoulder for comfort morphed into something entirely different. Different and dangerous.
She stood up quickly. ‘Why don’t we drink this in the garden?’ The fresh air would do her good, and the kitchen suddenly seemed far too small. Or maybe he seemed too big. Something was definitely out of proportion.
‘Why did you have to leave your home?’ He followed her outside and put the coffee down on the wooden table. ‘Couldn’t you have bought him out?’
‘He sold the house.’ She felt her hair lift in the breeze and breathed in deeply, smelling the sea. ‘He put it on the market without even telling me. I was living there with Lexi, and then one morning I woke up to find three estate agents on my doorstep.’
‘Did you get yourself a good lawyer?’
‘Clive is a lawyer,’ Jenna said wearily. ‘And I didn’t want Lexi seeing her parents fighting. I wanted it to be as civilised as possible.’
‘Civilised isn’t sending round estate agents with no warning.’
‘I know. But if I’d created a scene it would have been worse for Lexi. Apparently what he did was legal. I was only eighteen when we married—I didn’t check whose name the house was in. I didn’t check a lot of things.’
‘Legal, maybe—decent, definitely not.’ His tone was hard and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘Does Lexi know he made you sell?’
‘Yes. I told her the truth about that. I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do or not. She was already very angry with Clive for going off with another woman. And furious with me for choosing to relocate to Scotland.’
‘Why did you choose Scotland?’
‘Because it’s a long way from London…’ Jenna hesitated. ‘Clive doesn’t want Lexi around at the moment. He’s living the single life and he sees her as a hindrance. I thought it would damage their relationship for ever if she found out he doesn’t want her there, so I picked somewhere so far away it would be a logistical nightmare for her to spend time with him. I didn’t want her having another reason to hate him.’
Ryan watched her for a long moment. ‘No wonder you’re exhausted. Lexi’s a lucky girl, having a mother who cares as much as you do.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I care too much. Maybe I’m protecting her too much. Or maybe I’m protecting myself. I don’t want to admit that the man I was married to for fifteen years can behave like that. Anyway, this is a very boring for you.’ Tormented by guilt, and depressed after the conversation with her mother, Jenna took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. I’m lousy company, I know. Take no notice. I’m just tired after the journey. I’m sure you’re really busy.’
‘Why didn’t your mother want you to come here?’
Jenna watched the sunlight spread across the pretty garden. ‘She wanted us to move in with her. She said it would save money.’
‘Save money, but not your sanity. I gather you resisted?’
‘Yes. I thought we’d be better off having a fresh start, away from everyone. Clive has another woman. Actually, it turned out he had several women throughout our marriage…’ Her face was scarlet. ‘I was the last person to know. That’s another reason I wanted to get away. That and the fact that the girl he’s started seeing is twenty-two. It was really difficult for Lexi.’
‘And you, I should imagine.’
She didn’t even want to think about how she’d felt. ‘The hardest thing was seeing Lexi so hurt. I thought if we moved here we’d be right away from it. I thought it would be good—but at the moment she just hates me for dragging her away from her friends. She’s worried no one here will speak to her. And I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.’
‘Because I asked. And don’t worry about no one speaking to her. This is Glenmore,’ Ryan said dryly. ‘There aren’t enough people here for anyone to be ignored. It’s a small community.’
‘I hope she doesn’t get into any trouble.’ Jenna stared over her shoulder towards the grassy hill where Lexi had disappeared. ‘I think she’s very vulnerable at the moment.’
‘If it’s any consolation, there are not a lot of places to find trouble here. Mrs Parker aside, the crime rate on Glenmore is very low. When we do have trouble it’s almost always tourists and nothing serious. Nick Hillier, the island policeman, has a pretty boring job. If there’s a group of tourists drunk on the beach then it’s an exciting day for him. You have nothing to worry about.’
‘I’m a mother. Worrying yourself to death is part of the package. It never changes. From the moment they’re born, you’re worrying. When they sleep you check them every five
minutes to see if they’re breathing. Once I even woke Lexi up in the night just to check she was alive. Can you believe that?’
His eyes amused, Ryan reached for his coffee. ‘Our new mothers’ group will love you. They talk about that sort of stuff all the time and I just nod sagely and say it’s all normal.’
‘But you’re secretly thinking they’re a bit odd?’
‘Waking a sleeping baby? I have mothers tearing their hair out because the baby doesn’t sleep, so, yes, it seems a bit odd to hear mothers worrying when the baby does sleep.’
‘Once you have children you worry about everything, from sharp knives to global warming. And it doesn’t stop.’ Jenna shook her head, finding it a relief to talk to someone. He was a good listener. ‘Will they fall off that bike they’re riding? Will they remember to look both ways when they cross the road? You want them to be polite to people, and then you’re worried they’ll be too polite and might go off with some stranger because they don’t want to give offence–’
‘Jenna, relax! You’re going to give yourself a nervous breakdown and you haven’t even unpacked yet. You need to learn to chill.’
‘Chill? What’s that?’ Jenna rolled her eyes in self-mockery. ‘I don’t know how to chill. But at work I’m sane, I promise. You must be wondering why on earth you gave me a lift. And a job.’
‘Your job is safe. I can promise you that.’
‘There’s no such thing as safe.’ She rubbed her finger over the table, following the grain of the wood. ‘A year ago I had a husband, a home and a job. I lost all three.’
He was silent for a long moment. ‘And now you have a home and a job again.’
There was something in his voice that made her look at him—made her wonder what personal trauma had driven him to this island.
‘What I want is for Lexi to be happy.’ Feeling calmer than she’d felt for ages, Jenna slipped off her shoes and curled her toes into the grass. ‘I’m hoping that this will be a fresh start. I want it to feel like home.’
‘If you need any help turning it into a home, give me a shout.’ Ryan checked his watch and rose to his feet. ‘I’m pretty good with a toolbox. Do you want any help unpacking? Is any of your furniture coming over?’