Название: Summer Fling: A Bride for Glenmore
Автор: Sarah Morgan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408937440
isbn:
Evanna was right.
It would be safer to steer clear of him.
Ethan vaulted over the fence that separated the two cottages and walked up the garden.
The doors to the kitchen were open and he could see Kyla standing in front of the stove, singing along to the radio. Her blonde curls were pinned haphazardly to the top of her head and her feet were bare. She wore a pair of faded jeans that rode low on her hips, exposing a tempting expanse of smooth, tanned abdomen. She was lean, fit and incredibly sexy, and something dangerous stirred inside him.
He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he couldn’t afford the luxury of becoming involved with this woman.
Life was about to become complicated enough without the extra dimension that a relationship would inevitably bring.
He was just working out the best way to begin what needed to be said when she glanced up and saw him. The singing stopped.
‘I have a perfectly good front door with a working doorbell.’
‘I heard you singing so I thought I’d come round the back.’ He ignored her frosty tone and strolled into the kitchen. ‘You can stop glaring at me because I’ve come to apologise.’
‘You’re saying that you were wrong?’
‘No.’ She had beautiful eyes, he decided. In fact, the whole package was beautiful. ‘I still think it doesn’t do to get too involved with patients, but I can see that it might be hard to do that on an island like this. And you’re very caring, there’s no doubt about that.’ And it was impossible not to respond to her.
Suddenly he wanted to touch her. Really touch her. He wanted to taste and feel and immerse himself in the woman she was.
‘Caring is what makes this community so special.’
‘I’m sure that’s true. But isn’t it also true that caring too much sometimes makes it difficult to do your job?’
A shadow darkened her blue eyes and her slim shoulders sagged slightly. ‘Perhaps. But it’s hard to change your personality, Ethan. You just have to work with what you’ve got. This is me. This is who I am.’ Her simple statement encompassed the differences between them and guilt gnawed at his insides.
She was open and honest. Transparent.
Whereas he …
Her quiet declaration reminded him that she knew nothing about the person he really was.
He clenched his hands into fists by his sides to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her against him. To make any sort of move would be inexcusable when he was hiding so much from her.
Cold and hard were adjectives that many women had applied to him but so far no one had thrown ‘immoral’ at him, and he didn’t intend them to start now.
‘I just think that you can do your job better if you can stay slightly detached. It makes it easier to think clearly.’
She gave a sigh and turned back to the pan on the hob. ‘You sound like Logan. He always manages to get the balance right. I’m terrible. I take everything much more personally, but I can’t help it.’
‘And that’s what makes you a nice person.’ He realised that it was true. Even during the short time he’d been on the island he could see that she gave a great deal of herself to her job and to the community. ‘What are you cooking?’
‘Soup from a can. I can hardly bear the anticipation.’ She stared at the gloopy liquid with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. ‘I’d offer you some but frankly I wouldn’t want to poison you. You’re better off with whatever you have in your own fridge.’
‘There’s nothing in my fridge apart from milk and beer and neither of those is going to make a decent meal. Is there a good pub on the island?’
‘The Stag’s Head. Down on the quay. Given that they know what you did for Doug, I doubt you’d even have to pay for your supper. You’ll probably get a hero’s welcome.’
‘I don’t mind paying but I need to eat something soon. I missed lunch.’ He leaned forward and turned off the hob. ‘Let’s go.’
She stared at him and then at the saucepan on the hob. ‘I’m eating soup.’
‘Not any more. You’re eating in the pub with me.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What if I don’t want to eat in the pub?’
‘You’d rather eat congealed soup of indeterminate origin?’ He watched her shudder and gave a smile. ‘Come on. We both know that a stranger walking into that place is going to be given the third degree. If you’re so committed to helping people in the community, the least you can do is give me some moral support.’
She looked at the soup and then back at him. ‘It isn’t that hard a choice.’
‘Good.’ He glanced down at her feet. ‘Just put some shoes on or the locals will talk.’
And he hoped she’d change out of the jeans in order to allow his blood pressure to settle.
Kyla walked into the pub ahead of Ethan and felt every pair of eyes in the room fasten themselves on her.
Let them talk, she thought cheerfully, elbowing her way to the bar through the crowd of locals. It had been a long time since anyone had had reason to gossip about her. It would do them all good. ‘Coming through,’ she sang out as she wiggled and pushed her way to the front. ‘This is a medical emergency. Starving hungry and gasping for a drink.’
The man behind the bar grinned and opened a fridge. ‘So this is for medicinal purposes?’
‘Of course, Ben. What else?’ She settled herself on a stool at the bar and rested her arms on the bar.
Ben handed her a glass of white wine. ‘We were all shocked to hear about Doug.’
‘Logan spoke to the hospital today and he’s doing all right. He’ll be home before you know it.’
‘All the same, I feel responsible.’ Ben scratched his head awkwardly and Kyla looked at him quizzically.
‘How can you possibly be responsible?’
‘He was lugging my crates around,’ Ben said roughly, and Kyla gave a soft smile.
‘And from what I heard, you were the one to take him straight to the surgery, so you did him a good turn. Stop fretting.’ Kyla glanced behind her and noticed that Ethan was hovering on the edge of the crowd. On impulse, she ordered for him and pushed her way back through to a vacant table, clutching the glasses. ‘I ordered you a pint of the local brew. Hope that’s OK. We’ll sit here.’
‘I feel like a zoo animal on display. Do they ever stop staring?’
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