Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor?. Fiona McArthur

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      Bonnie gazed in awe at the confusion and choice. ‘How do you know which restaurant to eat in?’

      ‘Been before. I have my favourite and they’ll save a good table for me.’ Harry watched her drink it in. Her pleasure made him look again, inhale the smoke, hear the chatter between the competing restaurants, and recognise some of the reasons he seemed to end up here when he came down to this end of Bali.

      But most of his unusual lightness of heart seemed to be emanating from being with the woman at his side. Strange, that.

      She walked with him down the concrete passage between two vying shopfronts and he could feel her presence near his hip like a little force-field of energy reacting with him. Swirls of awareness prickled like the sprays of loose sand that flicked off their shoes as they walked.

      When they hit the beach the sun had well and truly gone, a darkening silhouette of a fishing boat glided out on the waves as the candles flared into life along the tables. Darkness fell softly, like one of those cashmere pashminas the women wore here. He heard her sigh out a little more tension from those militant shoulders and it made him feel good.

      Bonnie felt herself relax as she looked around. This was different. Time out of the real world, maybe because of the semidarkness. She could get used to eating in the dark on a beach too. It was so unlike her to come with a stranger but there were enough people to keep her safe here and she could always catch her own taxi home. And suddenly it felt fun to be out with a good-looking man for an uncomplicated dinner. Her friends would be very proud of her.

      They crunched through the sand all the way down to the water’s edge. Bonnie glanced at couples and families and noisy groups of tourists all munching and laughing in groups as they passed.

      To her delight every table had at least one person sucking milk from a coconut through a straw. The cheerful mood lifted her spirits even higher. She used to be a happy person and it was nice to glimpse a little joy again.

      Finally their waiter stopped at a table. It wasn’t quite in the water but there was no one in front to obscure the last of the glow on the horizon. She stood for a moment and just gazed out over the waves. Definitely a cool place to have dinner.

      Harry beat the waiter to her chair and pulled it out for her. ‘Your throne, madam.’

      She could feel the hairs on her arms respond to his nearness. Visceral response. Pheromones. This wasn’t good. She wanted flirtation, not irreversible fascination. Please, not that sort of happy. Her eyes met his and she didn’t smile. ‘I’m your dinner partner, not your date.’

      Snap. Reality bit. Harry was silent as he sat down and then picked up his fork to examine it. Carefully—while he let her words sink in. Nice fork. Silver with three tines. Not much of interest there. ‘Got it. No chairs held. And I’ll have no deep and meaningful conversations from you either,’ he joked, but there was an underlying truth in his words.

      He glanced up and caught the fiercely guarded expression on her face. She was as bad as him. Funny how he’d never realised how bad he was. ‘What about car doors? Did that offend you?’ He saw her face tighten even more.

      She closed her eyes and held up her hands and he could foresee the moment when she’d say she shouldn’t have come.

      Panic flared in her eyes and he cursed his stupidity.

      Some bloke had done a doozy on her. Oops, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He accepted the message and tapped the table so she looked at him. He tried selling his smile again. ‘I’m sorry.’

      That was when he realised he didn’t know her name. Pleasant and non-threatening dinner conversation coming up. ‘I really don’t want to eat alone. But what shall I call you?’

      Bonnie forced herself to calm down. Panic weakened defences and that was the last thing she wanted. Her name? Now, there was a dilemma. She had this stupid urge to make up a name, something wildly outrageous that he’d know wasn’t real, so it didn’t cause problems but would maintain distance in case she needed more space than he was willing to give.

      Brain vacuum didn’t help. ‘Bonnie.’

      ‘So tell me, Bonnie …’ He paused and she smiled to herself because it was plain he didn’t believe that really was her name. Delicious.

      ‘Are you in Bali long?’ He sat back in his chair with a little smile curving his lips. Good grief, he had gorgeous lips.

      She blinked. ‘A week. Then I start a new job.’

      ‘So what’s your new job?’ When he leaned back his shirt stretched over his chest and her mouth dried.

      She tried to unobtrusively rustle up some saliva so she could answer. ‘Outreach nursing, at Ayers Rock. I’m a registered nurse and midwife and do short stints in isolated places.’

      A strange expression crossed his face so fast she couldn’t guess the cause. Interesting but he didn’t explain it. Just nodded.

      Blimey. Talk about danger, Harry thought. The same place as the job he’d declined. And too close to a town he wanted to forget. His wife had been a midwife, they’d met at Katherine when he’d worked for the RFDS. Fate was out to smack him apparently.

      When he changed the subject she didn’t seem to notice. Thank goodness. He’d already said he only wanted a dinner partner, which apparently suited her fine.

      Back to discussing her might be safer. ‘So what have you done here in paradise you wouldn’t have done at home?’

      She gestured to the beach in front of them. ‘Apart from dining with a man I don’t know, you mean?’

      He wasn’t silly enough to fall into the trap. ‘Hmm.’

      She shrugged. ‘Nothing, really. Swam, but I did that in Darwin, shopped at markets and watched the sunset over the ocean, but we do that at Mindil on Thursdays and Sundays in Darwin too.’

      He watched her think about it. Her thoughts may as well have been typed up on a screen. It was amusing how transparent she was and he found it delightfully refreshing. ‘While I’m here I’d like to see some of the countryside. The terraced rice fields and a volcano—none of those where I come from.’

      He nodded. He’d found a topic. ‘So you should do the bike ride from Agung.’

      He could tell she’d vaguely heard of it but couldn’t place it. ‘And that would be …?’

      He gestured loosely in the direction of Kuta. ‘Up in the mountains, a couple of hours’ drive, well worth it. The bike ride’s about twenty-five kilometres long.’

      ‘Probably not happening, then.’ She shrugged. ‘I haven’t ridden a bike for ten years.’ She laughed at the thought. ‘That’d be a sight. I wouldn’t be able to stand up after.’

      Bonnie tried not to get sucked under his spell but his smile was infecting her. Flashing like a beam over the waves when she least expected to see it in the gloom and made her think of the lighthouse again. He sat forward a little, leaning towards her in an effort to enthuse her. ‘The ride’s all downhill. Through villages, rice fields, over a river. You’d love it.’

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