Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor? Read Online Free PDF Page A

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 wonderedwhy 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
    I N 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 I join you?’ His open-necked shirt exposed a strong brown throat and the buttons strained as he leaned over the table. Her poor young friends nearly swallowed their spoons. Too much testosterone this early in the morning.
    Sacha stuttered.