Heart Surgeon in Portugal Read Online Free PDF Page B

won’t need to bother unpacking your bikini,’ his hand gestured at her body, an up and down movement that had a startled Ellie looking down at her front. The pink cotton dress was soaked and transparent, and so was her wet bra and little cotton thong. ‘Not now I’ve seen the lot,’ said Mr Harland cheerfully, donning his Raybans and stretching out in the sun.
    With a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a groan Ellie made a dash for her bedroom, tripping over the sill yet again while behind her Rafe Harland chuckled with unkind satisfaction.
    Behind her the French doors slammed to with such force that the glass rattled in its wooden frame. She tore off her wet clothes and with trembling fingers unzipped the big wheeled case, pulling clothes out helter-skelter and flinging them on the floor as she searched for something big and enveloping in which to hide her humiliated person. First to hand was an old striped shirt of Jon’s which had acted as a swimwear cover-up on many a Breton beach in her teenage years. At least it came down to mid-thigh and could be buttoned right up to the throat. Ellie shrugged it on, did up every button and flung herself onto the bed where she lay and composed in her head the letter she was going to have to send home - and pronto.
    ‘Mum and Dad and Jon - I am SO sorry to have to tell you this. Harland is hateful. I have nicknamed him Mr Big and oh boy is that apt. He’s got such a high opinion of himself that to him I’m just a pigmy, an ant, something to be squashed underfoot, to be trampled upon …
    Ellie’s stomach gave a loud rumble. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime. And there was the little matter of breakfast. Well! If Mr Big thought Ellie Robey was going to lift a finger to do anything for him, he could think again. ‘He is utterly selfish and self-absorbed,’ Ellie wrote in her imaginary letter… She liked that. Self-absorbed. Good choice of words. ‘He has no compassion. Cares nothing for the fact that I’ve been so ill.’ Yes, that should make them sit up back home.
    She lay back on the pillows, hands clasped behind her head, picturing the heart-rending scene when her parents got this letter. ‘I’m sorry but I cannot stay a moment longer. As soon as I can book a return flight I-’
    There was a sharp tap on the door and Mr Big poked his head in. ‘Good grief, what happened in here?’
    ‘I’m unpacking,’ said Ellie sulking, staying right where she was. Damn! she shouldn’t have said that. Now he’d think she was here for good.
    ‘What about breakfast? You should be in the kitchen.’
    ‘Don’t know where the kitchen is.’ She folded her arms and stared up at the ceiling…
    ‘Get up then and I will show you,’ he said calmly.
    Ellie didn’t move. ‘I’ll carry you,’ he warned.
    ‘Oh for goodness’ sake,’ Ellie sighed. Since she was going home, there was no need to be nice to the man. She rolled off the bed and stood up in all her striped-shirt buttoned-to-the-neck glory. ‘Lovely,’ commented Mr Big sarcastically. The glint of amusement in his dark eyes wasn’t lost on Ellie but she really didn’t care what impression she was making. She followed him to the kitchen. ‘Giovana has very kindly brought us a fresh loaf and left butter and so on in the fridge. I like to eat outside, OK?’
    Ellie nodded dumbly. There was a big earthenware bowl on the kitchen table, piled high with oranges and lemons. She picked up a lemon and rolled it in her fingers. It was still warm from the sun. ‘I’ve just picked those. One of the pleasures of being out here.’ Mr Big smiled at her and that rare smile was so engaging, who could fail to smile back? Ellie simply couldn’t help herself. Damn!
    ‘Later on I’ll show you how to make fresh lemonade. It’s very simple. Now, I’m going to be working outside. Do you think you can manage?’
    ‘Yes Mr Harland.’
    Ellie did a quick rethink and jettisoned the letter home. What was the point