Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor?. Fiona McArthur

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СКАЧАТЬ but she wished he hadn’t because she didn’t need more reasons to be attracted.

      ‘I’m not judging,’ he said. ‘I remember being young.’

      In years he was nowhere near old but there was a wealth of experience, possibly not all good, behind those dazzling eyes of his. Some days she felt decrepit too but didn’t know this guy well enough to agree.

      ‘Poor you.’ Though he didn’t look poor in any sense of the word. She wondered what had happened to make him feel aged but that was probably all part of his pickup plan. He had to be somewhere between thirty and thirty-five, which put him five years older than her at least.

      Up close he was even more impressive in a gut-wrenching, tear-the-breath-from-your-throat kind of way she didn’t like to admit, but thankfully she could now call on months of training in unattainability. ‘Do I know you?’

      More smile and the look he was giving suggested he’d like to move that way. She ignored the little buzz that grew with the idea. ‘I don’t know. Do you?’ He held out one tanned hand and she looked at it. ‘Harry St Clair,’ she heard him say.

      Such beautiful hands. Long fingers, square-clipped nails, fine hairs across a strong back—and a wedding band. She hadn’t noticed that before and she didn’t know why she’d be shocked. Maybe because the way he was smiling at her had nothing to do with fidelity. It was a strange old world when people could act like this.

      Bonnie uncurled herself from the chair and stood up next to him. She was tall but he was taller by a fair margin and that only made her more annoyed. She couldn’t hide the contempt in her eyes but then, that was what happened when you smelled a rat when you expected aftershave.

      She raised her eyebrows and then her chin. ‘I don’t know you.’ She shook her head. ‘Do I know your wife?’

      His hand dropped and his other came over the ring and hid it from view. ‘I doubt that. She’s been gone for more than two years.’

      Bonnie closed her eyes. He was a widower? Hell. ‘I’m sorry.’ But it was too late now. She’d jumped to the conclusion he was just like Jeremy, Dr Sleaze, with the harem of women in the wings and their joint bank account he’d emptied.

      Infidelity brought back the memories she’d thought she’d zippered away in a sealed compartment, like she’d packed her suitcase to fly into Denpasar. But that was no excuse for accusing him.

      She could feel her fingers against her side, twitching a little as if hoping he’d put his hand out again and give her another shot. But her hand wouldn’t make the journey by itself. Her barriers were secure. That was a good thing. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go.’

      Harry wasn’t ready for that. Hadn’t expected it because it didn’t happen to him often. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been given the flick so smoothly. He followed her. ‘I didn’t catch your name.’

      She kept walking and obviously she didn’t care if he heard her or not. ‘I didn’t throw it,’ she muttered.

      So this was how it felt, Harry reminded himself. Unpleasant, but more interesting. Maybe he was a masochist? The wall around her was higher than the one around the Royal Palace in Ubud and twice as fascinating. He knew all about walls to keep people out. Suddenly it became imperative he have more than a brief chat with her about the weather.

      He took two big steps and caught up with her. ‘But you threw an insult. I’m only looking for a nice platonic dinner partner to share Jimbaran Bay with. Maybe we could talk about that?’

      At least she’d stopped. Turned to look at him. But she wasn’t saying anything. He could feel those liquid eyes assessing him, and he felt as if he were posing, like in a passport photograph, with that frozen, trying-not-to-look-like-a-psychopath expression on his face.

      It was as if she didn’t know what to say so she didn’t say anything at all. More people should try that. It was attractive. And at least it wasn’t no.

      He went on because he knew he had seconds before she disappeared. Make it count, old boy. ‘I really am Harry St Clair. They know me here. I’m reluctant to ask someone else.’ He glanced around as if there were loads of women he could ask. ‘All those candles and tables in the sand at Jimbaran are just too romantic.’ He shrugged. ‘I can tell you loathe me. I’d feel safe with you.’

      He felt like groaning. What the heck was falling out of his mouth? He was an idiot and he wouldn’t blame her if she ran away. Where had that come from?

      ‘I think you’ve tickets on yourself,’ she said, and her eyes suddenly looked as lush as the local jungle and just as dangerous. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea because this woman had weapons he wasn’t that sure he could hold out against if she used them all.

      ‘I apologise. I was insensitive about your wife.’ She looked away and he thought he heard her sigh. ‘I don’t know you enough to loathe you but I guess I could think about trying.’

      Bonnie glanced over her shoulder at the pinking horizon. Was she mad? Was it too late to squirm out? ‘The sun’s gone. Why go to Jimbaran now?’ She’d heard of the bay past the airport. ‘Everything I’ve heard’s about the sunset.’

      He slanted a quick look at her as he followed her towards the main building of the resort. ‘I enjoy eating seafood on the beach. But not alone. My treat?’

      ‘Wow. A big spender. I might choose lobster.’ Even to her it sounded like a yes. She didn’t know the man. But then, the girls had implied he wasn’t a serial killer. Most men who looked like him usually weren’t. No doubt some women would do their own dying to attract his attention.

      But there was that tiny worrying buzz that hummed somewhere near her stomach when she looked at him. The last time she’d been attracted this noticeably to a man it had ended in major disaster and she’d decided she truly enjoyed being single.

      Which would be why her friends had practically forced her onto the plane to Denpasar. Hmm. Maybe she didn’t enjoy total isolation from all men all the time. Maybe she just needed a holiday flirtation to restore her self-esteem and a sense of balance?

      ‘I’m good for the bill.’ He glanced at his watch, a flash one, and she wondered if it was real or one of the ten-dollar fakes that were sold on every corner in Kuta. It looked real but then, so did he and she didn’t believe in him. And this hotel was nice but not expensive. Not a place for watches like his. Lots of things didn’t make sense.

      He went on. ‘I’m starving. You look great. Don’t suppose you’d come as you are?’

      He was way too pushy but she was hungry now, not sure where that appetite had come from. She glanced down at the halter-necked silk dress she’d picked up at the markets. It was cool, comfortable and matched the sequined slides she’d bought with it. Why change for a man she barely knew?

      ‘I’ll leave a note under the girls’ door.’ It didn’t hurt to pretend somebody cared where she went and with whom.

      He nodded. ‘Great idea. In case we’re late.’

      Cool green eyes met blue. ‘We won’t be late.’

      Harry looked across at her and tried to figure it out. Every time he looked into her eyes he fell more deeply under her spell. And she was determined. It was her СКАЧАТЬ