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She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready for Ryan.
Why now? Except she couldn’t really begrudge his arrival in her life, because without him there was the possibility she wouldn’t be alive. Could she trust him? Her instincts said yes, but she had been so wrong before that the person she really couldn’t trust was herself.
“I don’t know what to think about any of this.”
“What does your gut tell you?”
Her gut told her that she wanted more. More of Ryan and more of the feelings he was bringing out in her. What would be the harm in spending more time together? Indulging in the feelings he brought out in her? Her first fling, and then in less than a week they would go their separate ways. At best he would become a beautiful memory to carry with her as she carved out her new life.
At worst—well, really, what couldn’t she face after everything she had already been through …?
AMBER McKENZIE’s love of romance and all the drama a good romance entails began in her teenage years. After a lengthy university career, multiple degrees and one formal English class, she found herself happily employed as a physician and happily married to her medical school sweetheart.
She rekindled her passion for romance during her residency and began thinking of the perfect story. She quickly decided that the only thing sexier than a man in scrubs was a woman in scrubs. After finishing training and starting her practice she started writing her first novel. Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest came at a perfect time, and after a few good edits from her wildlife biologist childhood best friend the manuscript was submitted. The rest is history!
Amber currently lives in Canada with her husband. She does her best to juggle her full-time medical practice with her love of writing and reading and other pursuits—from long-distance running to domestic goddess activities like cooking and quilting. Multitasking has become an art form and a way of life.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
To all my female physician friends. Heather, Kate, Jaclyn, KP, Erin, Allison, Rebecca and Kristen, it has been amazing being your friend and colleague. Thank you for sharing your lives and friendship with me. You are all both talented and beautiful, like the perfect romance novel heroine.
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
WAS SHE RUNNING away from her problems? Yes—and who could blame her? Erin thought as she ventured farther up the hills that comprised Arthur’s Seat. Was it working? No. Her trip across the Atlantic to Edinburgh had done nothing to change her circumstances or block the thoughts and feelings that had been tormenting her. The message that had awaited her at hotel check-in had confirmed that.
She looked around her at the lush greenery of the hills, the blue of the sky and the distant sparkle of the ocean. It was breathtaking, even with the signs warning of the dangers of severe wind gusts. She wished everything in life could come with such warnings. Then maybe she would have seen the hidden danger that had been disguised as her dreams coming true.
Erin stopped to catch her breath and smiled ruefully to herself. She felt as if she spent every day running from one delivery to another as an obstetrics resident, but maybe she wasn’t as fit as she’d thought, as she took in another deep breath. She looked up the path and saw a bench and made her way toward it. Maybe this hadn’t been her best idea. She hadn’t even dressed for a hike, her gray blazer and heeled boots a poor choice for any athletic pursuit. But this hadn’t been her plan. Nothing had been her plan. But another message from her now ex-husband had pushed her into the open air before she had even set sight on her hotel room.
She felt another wave of anger pass through her just as another gust of cold wind hit. She wanted to still be angry with him. Anger, indignation, hurt, she had felt them all when the truth had first come out, but now all those emotions she had once felt toward Kevin Dufour, her newly ex-husband, had long ago burnt out and had been replaced by disappointment in herself.
She reached back into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out the printed message that had interrupted her attempt at escape.
Erin—Divorce finalized. I think we can agree that you don’t belong at Boston General. Kevin
Was he right? Was it worth having to deal with the aftermath of Kevin to stay where she loved to work? Damn, she was doing it again, letting someone else make her doubt herself. Why was she so weak? How had she been so naive?
She felt the gust as she watched the note slip from her hands and tumble down the slope. Instinctively she lunged for it, not wanting Kevin’s cruel words to sully the beauty of the landscape surrounding her.
He watched, as if in slow motion, as the woman jumped from the steep hilltop over the edge. For a split second he froze before he sprinted to the spot where he’d last seen her. In the short time before he got there he prepared himself for what he might find and felt relief at the sight of her holding onto the last small outcropping of rock before the hill’s cliff. He couldn’t make out much of her face as she hugged her body close to the almost vertical ground beneath it, but he saw her tremble with fear. “Don’t move,” he yelled down to her.
But she did move, her head tilted only slightly to look back up at him, and once again he felt shock at what he was seeing. She was both young and beautiful. Her shoulder-length dark blond hair was being flung around her face as the wind continued to battle with her. Through the wisps of hair he could make out the beautiful large eyes that stood out even more against the pallor of her complexion. He was sure that he would never forget the way this woman was looking at him right now, at this moment.
“Stay still,” he reminded her, not wanting to be a distraction to her.
“I’m scared,” a small voice came back to him.
He wasn’t surprised. Even though he had watched her willingly throw herself from the hilltop it was normal to have last-minute regrets. He needed to keep her calm and establish trust between them. “I know. I’m going to get you out of there. What’s your name?”
“Erin.”
“Okay, Erin. My name is Ryan and I’m going to help you.”
How could he appear so calm and confident? She was literally on a ledge, facing death. Just as she had been reaching for the message a large gust of wind had blown it—and her—over the cliff. If she had thought she had hit rock bottom before, she had been wrong. This was truly it. She had let Kevin’s words literally drive her over the edge, and for what? What did it matter? What did he matter? Nothing that had come before this moment mattered except she had never wanted a second chance more than she wanted one now.
She looked up again toward the reassuring voice from above. The sun was shining brightly and she was too afraid to move any further, so all she could take in was the man’s muscular silhouetted outline. It immediately instilled confidence in her and she felt some of her fear dissipate. If anyone could help her it was this man.
She watched as he lowered himself to the ground, lying prone, hanging his head and shoulders over the cliff’s edge. He extended one long muscular arm toward her. “Erin, when you are ready I want you to reach up and take my hand.”
“I can’t.” The idea of letting go of any of her grip on the limited ground beneath her was impossible.
“Yes, you can, Erin. Trust me.”
It was an even more impossible request. She didn’t trust anyone, not even herself. “I can’t.”
“You can’t stay where you are forever. Reach up and take my hand.”
He was right. She had no options. Still, she couldn’t help but marvel at the complete lack of frustration in his voice. When was the last time someone had been patient with her? Or even acknowledged her feelings? Trust? She had sworn against that. But right now she had little more to lose so she took a deep breath and reached out her hand. The moment her arm was fully extended she felt his hand pass hers and grip strongly around her wrist; instinctively she did the same. Then, as if she weighed nothing, she was being lifted until he could grasp her under her shoulders and they both went tumbling toward the ground.
But instead of the ground, she landed on him and felt herself being raised and lowered with his breath, her body lax against his firmness. She was too dazed to move as she took in everything that had just happened. He had saved her, this man, Ryan. Ryan, who appeared to have Herculean strength. Ryan, who smelled like a combination of sunshine and sweat. Ryan, whose whole body she was in contact with.
She rolled herself to his side and for the first time got a good look at the man who had saved her. He was more impressive up close. He was tall and there was no muscle on his body that wasn’t defined. His black tech running shirt and blue shorts showed off the golden bronze of his skin. His hair was a light brown and he had a scar that extended from above his deep blue eyes toward his thick cropped hair. She could see at least one tattoo revealing itself from the short sleeve of his left arm.
“Are you okay?” His voice cut through her mental inventory of his assets.
Was she? No, but that wasn’t what she wanted to say and likely not what her hero wanted to hear. “Yes.”
“Are you disappointed?” he asked, his voice softer than before.
Disappointed? Had he sensed her evaluation? Truth be told, he was the first man she had felt attracted to in over a year and his raw sex appeal and heroism left little room for disappointment.
“No,” she answered, embarrassed.
“Good,” he replied, appearing relieved. He deftly sprang to his feet and then reached out a hand, which she took, and he helped her do the same. He was tall, her head coming up only to the top of his shoulders as she had to tilt upward to look at him.
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t saved me.” She heard her voice tremble at the end, the direness of her previous circumstance even more apparent now that she was out of it.
“I’m just happy you wanted to be saved. Now, let’s get out of here before the wind picks up.”
She was shocked when he reached out to take her hand. So shocked that she didn’t pull away, not that she could have even if she had wanted to. His grip was as tight as it had been when he had pulled her up. It was as if he was locking her beside him and didn’t want her to get away. She should have felt fear. This man, Ryan, was a stranger, but instead she felt taken care of. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time and she was in no hurry to lose it. So instead she followed his lead and walked with him toward the base of the hillside.
“You’re American.” He finally broke their silence after several minutes.
“Yes.” And she realized from his accent that he must be, too.
“What brings you to Scotland?”
“I’m running away from the disaster my life has become. You?” She almost gasped as she realized the answer that had run through her mind at high speed had also escaped from her mouth.
“Work.” He answered as though her response had been completely normal and she welcomed his tact.
“What do you do?”
“I’m in the military.”
“That explains it.” She covered her mouth with her free hand. What was wrong with her? What was it about this man that made her lose her ability to filter? She turned her focus from the path ahead to look at him and was met with a similar appraisal.
“Explains what?” He had stopped and she felt his blue eyes question her more strongly than his words had.
“I just meant that …” Was it that he was the only man with scars and a tattoo that she had ever found sexy? Or that his bravery and strength in saving her had seemed so effortless it wasn’t surprising he was a professional hero?
“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain yourself.” He began walking again and she followed, still linked with him. Time went by as they made their way toward the hill’s base and she marveled at how comfortable the silence was between them.
“It’s a beautiful country.” His words finally broke through.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, more comfortable with the neutral territory their conversation had achieved.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No, but I feel like I have. My father grew up here and when I was little he would tell me stories from his childhood or sometimes just about this faraway country with princess castles and green grass and blue ocean as far as the eye could see.”
“I’m not sure the Scottish would take well to having a strong part of their heritage referred to as ‘princess castles.’” She looked back toward him and he was smiling. If she had thought he was handsome before, now he was devastating. She was shocked by the powerful wave of attraction his smile evoked and had to check herself against those feelings. Fortunately they had reached the end of the path, a natural place to say goodbye. She let go of his hand and was surprised by the feeling of loss. All the more reason to get away now before she let her attraction make her life more complicated.
“Thank you again.”
“I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”
She wanted him to, but knew better. “Thanks. But I’m okay from here. I can find my way.”
She knew he was going to argue with her so she didn’t give him the chance. Instead she turned and headed toward her hotel and never looked back at the kindest, most handsome man she had talked to in years.
She looked nothing like Sabrina but she reminded him of her nonetheless. Both women were beautiful, but that wasn’t the similarity that was troubling him. It was the look in her eyes that brought back familiar haunting memories. At first those large round eyes that he’d later learned were a deep blue had just seemed scared, but after she had been returned to safety their depth of emotion had changed from fear to sadness. A sadness he had seen in his sister Sabrina’s eyes years ago and which had set off warning bells in his head—not that she hadn’t already rung those bells hard by leaping off the hill’s edge. What would she have done if he hadn’t been there? Would she have followed through with her intention and let go?
He physically recoiled at the thought of losing her and stopped in his tracks. How could he already feel a connection to this woman he barely knew? Most people would blame the dramatic nature of their encounter, but truthfully, to him, that drama had been minor. He was a military trained physician and for the past five years had had a decorated career as a trauma specialist. Pulling a beautiful woman to safety was a nice day at the office compared to the horrors he had witnessed.
It must be the emotional resemblance to Sabrina. The first time he’d seen that look in Sabrina he had missed it. He had been away for too long and hadn’t noticed the sadness in his little sister’s eyes. His role as a big brother had circumvented his role as a physician and he’d missed all the warning signs of depression his sister had been experiencing. She had been thinner than he’d remembered, with dark rings of fatigue under her eyes. She had rarely smiled and when he had tried to arrange activities to cheer her up, she had gotten no pleasure out of things that had previously made her happy.
Classic depression, and he, her big brother, the physician, had missed it and had just thought she’d been heartbroken and would get over it. That she had been better off. But in the end that hadn’t mattered. Instead, Sabrina had suffered for over a year before she’d hit rock bottom and he had never stopped blaming himself. He should have been there for her. He should have recognized the signs and gotten help for her earlier. He had failed her. He hadn’t protected her from the man who had broken her heart and he hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed help to be put back together.
The thought monologue snapped him back to Erin. She had thanked him for saving her. He wished that it was enough to reassure him. Hadn’t Sabrina always smiled politely through her pain? The one thing he was certain of was that this was not their last encounter. Was it a sense of responsibility he felt to her? Intrigue at the cause of her sadness? Or the fact that she smelled of wildflowers and had felt soft and right pressed against him. At this point it didn’t matter, his mind was made up. This was not the end of their story, it was merely the beginning.
CHAPTER TWO
ERIN SPOONED ANOTHER morsel of the warm decadent bread pudding into her mouth and let both the food and the ambiance overwhelm her senses. The local pub she had ventured to for dinner had been everything she’d been looking for; the noise and activity were a perfect distraction from the constant replay of her own thoughts. She had almost died today. She might have died had Ryan not saved her. The worst part was it would have been a stupid reason to die.
She needed to take responsibility for inadvertent actions. For her constant ability to let people, mainly her now ex-husband, manipulate her. But today it stopped. When she’d got back to her hotel room, she had torn up the new messages that awaited her and instead lounged in a hot bath and thought about what she wanted in life. She wanted to make a difference to the lives of others, just as Ryan had done for her today. The best way to do that was through her work as an obstetrician-gynecologist. So there was no way she was going to leave her training at Boston General, no matter what demands her ex made.
“Is this seat taken?” A deep voice interrupted her repetition of the earlier inner pep talk. She looked up and saw Ryan. He had changed from his running clothes and was flawless in a button-down navy collared shirt and charcoal-gray dark denim. How was it possible in a city of five hundred thousand people she would run into Ryan again? Attraction followed by fear coursed through her. She wanted to say yes and protect herself from once again being swayed by a handsome man, but how could she? Ryan had saved her life. The least she could do was agree to let him join her table.
“No, go ahead,” she agreed, gesturing to the single chair opposite her.
“Are you staying nearby?”
“Yes. You?”
“At the Glasshouse.” She felt her eyebrows rise and her eyes widen as he named her hotel. It felt as if they were being drawn together and that was a tough feeling to reconcile in the face of her newfound decision to take charge of her own life.
“How long are you going to be in Edinburgh?” Maybe he would be gone before she had to worry about her feelings toward him.
“A few days. You?”
“The same.” Of course, she thought to herself. She took a long sip of the local rhubarb cider she had nursed throughout her meal.
“So you are not running away from your life permanently?”
She looked up to meet his eyes, surprised that he had raised her impulsive comment. “No, I’m afraid that is not an option.”
“Glad to hear it.” The waitress arrived at their table and took Ryan’s order. She was a gorgeous Scottish redhead, tall with a body as luxurious as her hair. She waited for Ryan to notice but he was polite and otherwise unconcerned with the other woman. “I hope you don’t mind sticking around for a bit. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good company.”
“How do you know I’ll be good company?”
“Because you’re beautiful to look at and you speak your mind, making you interesting to talk to. It’s a rare but highly sought-after combination.”
He thought she was beautiful. When had she last heard that? She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear before finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Erin. That’s the benefit of having dinner with a stranger. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I think I owe you a lot,” she acknowledged.
“So tell me something about yourself and we’ll call it even.”
She thought of all the things she could tell him. She was a physician. She worked at the same hospital as her stepfather and ex-husband. She was recently divorced from the only man she had ever been in a serious relationship with. None of those topics she wanted to discuss. “I was born in Scotland.”
“You don’t sound Scottish.” He was smiling at her and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth from him.
“We moved when I was one. This is my first time back.”
“Your father never brought you here when you were growing up?”
“No. My father died when I was ten.”
He reached across the table and rested his hand on hers. “I’m sorry.”
This was where she normally said “That’s okay” as casually as she could muster, but something about Ryan changed her response. “Thank you.”
His hand lingered on hers until the waitress returned with his dark draft beer. “So tell me something about yourself,” she said, genuinely interested in the man before her.
“What do you want to know?”
“Am I the first woman you have ever pulled off a hillside?”
“First, and hopefully last. What else?” He leaned back in his chair and looked completely relaxed with opening his life up to her questions.
“Where are you stationed?”
“I’ve been mainly in combat zones in the Middle East for the past five years.”
“Do you like it?”
“Combat?”
“Being in the military.”
“Yes. I originally joined to help pay for school but found myself drawn to the hard work ethic and structure. When I finished school I decided to stay for the challenge.”
“You like a challenge?” She was surprised to hear her own voice almost coy, teasing him.
“I’ve found that everything in life worth having you have to work for.” The smile that followed was enough to make her heart begin to race. Was he flirting with her? A second later a horrible thought flashed through her mind and in a moment it also left her mouth.
“Are you married?” She alternated her gaze between the look in his eyes during his response and an examination of his left hand, looking for any hint of an outline of a ring.
“No, never have been.” It seemed as if he was telling the truth, but would she know if he wasn’t? He didn’t seem at all disturbed by her question. “Are you?”
She thought about her new label, hating the way it made her relive all her mistakes every time the label was used. She took another sip of her cider and rested the glass back on the table before answering. “Divorced.”
“That bothers you.”
“You’re observant,” she acknowledged.
“I’ve built my career around paying attention to the subtle clues people give me.”
“Then you’re lucky. I’m so naive that I miss even the most obvious of signs people give me.”