Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor?. Fiona McArthur
been devastated by her love life bombing out but she hadn’t given up her life to hide in a distant country. No. If she was honest, she’d hidden in work. Which was the reverse of what he’d done, she supposed.
He was silent for a few beats. ‘Sometimes I build things, work in the fields every now and then. And I’m studying yoga.’
The last thing she would have connected with him but then, he did occasionally give off restful vibes. ‘I can’t quite see you and yoga together.’ She thought about it some more. ‘So you’re going to be a yoga teacher? I guess both our professions are about health.’
‘No. I’m studying it for myself.’
She laughed. He amused her, he really did. ‘Selfish ‘R’ Us? Who will look after you if you don’t?’
‘That’s right.’ He sat back in his seat and smiled. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d say he was relieved by her amusement.
She couldn’t imagine not having work to take her mind off the rest. ‘So what about your parents? What do they think of you growing old on an island?’
‘They’re both dead.’
Oops. ‘I’m an orphan too. It sucks.’ She really didn’t want to talk about this and wasn’t sure why she was except she felt somehow responsible for the conversation. ‘My mum died when I was twelve. Never knew my father and my gran brought me up. She died three months ago. I nursed her at home.’ And my sleazy fiancé slept with his ex and stole all my money while I was busy. But she was getting over that. Really.
‘Tough, but special. So you normally work as a midwife?’
‘Mostly. I trained in Darwin, did a little time in ICU, but mostly a midwife. I love working remote in short stints but you miss out on the births mostly that way.’
She speared another succulent piece of fish. ‘And you, before you came here?’
‘Different things. None of them useful.’ Slam. She felt the whoosh from the shutting door. Now she wished she’d shut her mouth. She kept it closed in case something else came out that she’d regret and ate another piece of fish and left him with the silence. He’d caused it.
Harry had a pretty good idea what she was thinking. Well, what could he say? She wasn’t getting the truth. Oh, did medicine, fell in love, lost wife and child because I was stupid, now have abdicated from world.
By the time she’d finished her fish he could see she was full. Not a big eater, he gathered. In fact, she seemed a little on the thin side.
When the waiter returned he shook his head at the proffered menus. ‘I’m guessing you don’t need sweets.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Any chance of a quick stroll along the beach before we leave?’
She opened her mouth to say no but he kept talking and successfully forestalled her. Another win to him. ‘Just to let the food settle. Only as far as the tables go and it’s in plain view of everyone.’
He could see she hated the thought of giving in to him again. Her independence amused him and only made him more determined to conquer her reserve. He wanted to win! Now how long since he’d felt that?
Bonnie didn’t know where this competitiveness had come from but probably she should listen to it as a warning signal. She was her own woman. Then her mouth said, ‘Maybe for a few minutes and then I must get back to my friends.’
‘Sure.’ He stood up and despite their initial conversation he helped pull out her chair. ‘It gets a little tricky in the sand when the chairs sink in a bit.’
Bonnie felt him beside her. Her arms did that hair-waving thing again and this time the shiver went right down to her toes. To break the mood she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Are you saying I’m so heavy I bogged my chair?’
His teeth flashed as he glanced at her figure. ‘No.’
He nodded at the waiter to say they’d be back and they took the few steps to the water’s edge and began walking along towards the airport in the distance. They didn’t speak but strangely it wasn’t as awkward as she’d thought it would be.
The waves lapped politely, no big chasers in the occasional wash up like happened at home, just gentle lapping that never threatened her light slides, or her concentration at maintaining a safe distance.
The sand crunched firmly beneath their feet and the stars overhead twinkled benignly down on them. She could feel her annoyance from his refusal to discuss his life recede like the water beside her and she let it go.
It didn’t matter. Really it didn’t. She didn’t know him. Probably wouldn’t see him again and it had been a very pleasant meal.
Then he ruined it. ‘Any chance of meeting up tomorrow?’
She fought back the overreaction she wanted to make, like a full-throated scream of Yes, and impressed herself by the way her answer slid out quite lightly. ‘No.’
‘The day after?’
She wanted a flirtation, not an affair. Already she was too aware of every facial expression, every shrug of those lovely shoulders and the strength in those powerful legs that walked beside her. Sensory overload. She glanced at him. ‘Thanks for dinner. Can we go back now?’
Harry felt her pull away, even though her body didn’t move. It was a subtle stiffening and leaning to increase the distance between them. Unmistakable. Well, he’d blown that. Not something he was used to doing but he was just out of practice. Funny how he could be smooth with someone he didn’t care how it went with and a bumbling idiot with someone he wanted to impress.
Now, why was he trying to impress her? He slanted a glance at Bonnie of the determined chin and wondered why as they walked back to their table. He liked it that she was taller than most women, though she was a little frail. He could easily imagine being able to span her waist with his hands, and maybe he should insist on dessert to fatten her up.
She seemed too fragile to him. Maybe nursing her gran had really taken it out of her. He could feel the swell of empathy pulling bricks out of the walls he’d built over the last two years, snapping mortar and the solid pattern of layers like a berserk tradesman. Now, how had he left himself open to that?
His sensible side began a mental slurry of cement on the cracks and crumbles and hardened his heart. Then the words came easily.
‘I’ll pay the bill and take you home, then.’
CHAPTER THREE
IN THE early hours of the morning Harry lay on his side and gazed out over the beach. He watched the stars inch their way across the sky. He’d tried turning his back on them but he knew they were there. Laughing at him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tossed and turned over a woman. Well, he could but he didn’t want to remember that disaster.
But Bonnie was different, softer, like a calm place to sit and enjoy situations and surroundings he’d forgotten how to enjoy. And that tinge of sadness around her sat like a mist he wanted to wave away. Problem was that voice in his head had burnt him before. He squeezed his pillow again and buried his ear into the packed softness of feathers. Softness was a pain.
Next morning, he found himself standing beside her breakfast table. Just in case she’d changed her mind. ‘Good morning, Bonnie.’
Bonnie shook her head. Obviously Harry didn’t understand no. Which for an intelligent man seemed a little bizarre.
She took a careful sip of her tea, savoured the honey— Bali had lovely black tea—and ignored the little glow that wasn’t leaf-related. ‘Good morning, Harry.’
‘You must be Bonnie’s friends.’ He glanced at the girls as if to check their response to her fake name. Bonnie’s smile kicked. Now, that was gold.
‘May