About the Authors

ANN MCINTOSH was born in the Tropics, lived in the frozen north for a number of years, and now resides in sunny central Florida with her husband. She’s a proud mama to three grown children, loves tea, crafting, animals (except reptiles!), bacon and the ocean. She believes in the power of romance to heal, inspire and provide hope in our complex world.

TRACI DOUGLASS is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her stories feature sizzling heroes full of dark humour, quick wit and major attitude, and heroines who are smart, tenacious and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and she loves animals, chocolate, coffee, hot British actors and sarcasm—not necessarily in that order.

Also by Ann McIntosh

The Nurse’s Pregnancy Miracle

The Surgeon’s One Night to Forever

Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride

Also by Traci Douglass

One Night with the Army Doc

Finding Her Forever Family

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Nurse’s Christmas Temptation & A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad

Ann McIntosh and Traci Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90196-7

THE NURSE’S CHRISTMAS TEMPTATION & A MISTLETOE KISS FOR THE SINGLE DAD

The Nurse’s Christmas Temptation © 2019 Ann McIntosh A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad © 2019 Traci Douglass

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

The Nurse’s Christmas Temptation

Back Cover Text

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad

Back Cover Text

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

About the Publisher

The Nurse’s Christmas Temptation

Ann McIntosh

She didn’t plan on celebrating Christmas…

Can he change her mind?

Nurse Harmony Kinkaid grabs the chance to spend Christmas working on a remote Scottish island. Without her beloved grandmother, the season won’t be the same. But her organized world is thrown off balance by her fierce attraction to daredevil Dr. Cameron MacRurie. He’s her complete opposite—she’d be foolish to fall for him. Yet as Christmas lights begin to shine, Cam becomes a temptation impossible to ignore…

For Tom, Vanessa and Patrick,

who’ve improved my life immeasurably.

You helped me grow up more than I helped you!

CHAPTER ONE

AT HER FIRST sight of Eilean Rurie, or Rurie Island, rising like a granite fist from an angry, frothing sea, Harmony Kinkaid gave a satisfied nod.

Rugged black cliffs fronted dismal light green hills wreathed in mist, and the overcast sky was giving everything a sad gray tone. Mizzly rain pattering down on the ferry deck in fits and starts elevated the entire scene to the epitome of dreary.

After the year she’d had, it was the perfect place for her.

Set in the sheltered curve of a sea loch, Eilean Rurie was just far enough from the west coast of Scotland to give Harmony the sense of leaving everything behind. Of course, she had no idea what she was facing once she got there. Being on a somewhat remote island and not knowing anyone would be out of her comfort zone, but she was determined to be up to the task.

The job had come up suddenly, but at just the right time. And when Caitlin, a friend from nursing school, had called out of the blue, Harmony hadn’t been able to help thinking it was a sign.

“Hey, I’m in the hospital in Fort William, and I won’t be able to go back to work on Eilean Rurie. Can you take over for me until Dr. MacRurie finds a permanent replacement?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Preeclampsia. They’ve put me on bedrest for the duration, and the island’s too remote to make it feasible for us to stay there. I know you’re in between jobs, and I hoped you’d be willing to fill in for me.”

Caitlin was expecting her first child, and Harmony had heard the stress in her usually placid friend’s voice. But before she’d been able to reply, Caitlin had continued.

“It’s very different from working in London but Cam—Dr. MacRurie—is easy to work for, and there are only about two hundred and fifty people to tend to overall. It would mean being away for Christmas, though…”

Harmony’s fingers had tightened on the phone, and she’d hastily swallowed the lump in her throat and replied, “That’s all right. Of course I’ll do it. I could definitely use the money.”

And, even more importantly, it would mean not having to spend the holidays alone in a bare house that had used to be Christmas central.

Before Gran had died, and Mum had decided to take off to Yorkshire with her new man, Fred.

Oh, she wasn’t angry about Fred. He was a nice man, and Mum deserved to have a life after devoting hers to looking after Harmony and then Gran too. It had just felt horribly like a betrayal when Mum revealed her holiday plans.

“Fred’s got some time off over Christmas, and he wants to spend it with his children and grandchildren. It would be a good time for me to meet everyone, so I’ve agreed to go.”

Harmony had been so shocked and hurt she hadn’t even been able to reply.

Mum must have seen her reaction on her face, because she’d quickly added, “You’re welcome to come too.”

The worry in Mum’s tone had brought Harmony back to her senses. “No, Mum. You go and have a great time. I have a few applications out there, and I’m going to want to be on hand if anyone calls me to come in for an interview.”

Yet inside it had felt like the last straw in an awful year. First her two-year relationship with Logan had ended, and only a couple of months later Gran had passed away unexpectedly, leaving Mum and Harmony heartbroken. Her mother’s mother had lived with them since her dad had died, when Harmony was only six, and had been an integral part of their little family.

Then, as if those things weren’t enough, Harmony’s boss of six years had decided to retire. Although the staff had been assured their jobs were secure, one of the first things the new GP had done was let them all go.

When Mum had dropped her bombshell Harmony had been totally set adrift. She didn’t like change. Life had been fine the way it was, and now suddenly it was all upside down. The loss of their traditional mother/daughter Christmas in particular had left her in a tailspin.

She felt as though everyone and everything she cherished about the season was gone, and all she could anticipate was loneliness. Just thinking about it made her eyes watery.

But maybe saying to heck with Christmas and having the enforced alone time that was ahead was exactly what she needed. Getting away from the familiar to really think about where she wanted to go in life.

From all she’d heard and read about small communities like this one, she wouldn’t be surprised if it took a lot longer than she would be around for people even to warm to her. That suited her just fine. Peace and quiet were what she was looking for. Although it would be lonely living by herself for the first time, and in a new environment to boot, it would also be the best opportunity to contemplate her next move.

“Your first trip to Eilean Rurie?”

The deckhand’s voice pulled her out of her sour thoughts, and she blinked to chase away the silly tears before they fell.

“Yes,” she said, as the ferry rounded the end of the island and headed to what she assumed was the port.

“Bit drab looking right now, but it’ll be better in a few days.”

“What happens in a few days?” she asked. But he had already hurried off—no doubt to prepare for docking.

Other than a magical transportation of the island to a tropical location, Harmony couldn’t think of anything that would make it look better. The town and dock area continued the gray-on-gray theme, although she had to admit that had more to do with the overcast day than anything else. Most buildings were either whitewashed or cream-colored stone, and the overall effect was of a somewhat quaint, old-fashioned village.

The cry of sea birds and the sound of the wind along with the brisk, damp air was strangely invigorating, and Harmony felt a little surge of excitement. This peaceful place, far from the rush and noise of London, would surely be perfect for the quiet contemplation she needed to figure out her future.

The serene effect was shattered by a whoosh that was easily heard over the ferry engines, and the sight of a man rocketing up from the water. It took Harmony a couple of confused seconds to realize he was wearing a water jetpack, which had propelled him high into the air. As she watched he swooped down, then started twisting and turning close to the surface of the loch, doing stunts.

She couldn’t decide whether or not riding the contraption was crazier than going into the no doubt freezing water but, however she cut it, he was clearly out of his gourd. Horrified and fascinated all at once, she stood watching his performance as the ferry moved closer to shore.

He shot high into the air again and then, in an instant, plummeted toward the water. Harmony wanted to close her eyes, so she wouldn’t see him die, but couldn’t look away, covering her mouth to curtail the shriek of fear rising in her throat. Somehow, seemingly inches from the water, he got the spluttering jetpack back under control and rose again.

She turned away, her hands shaking, pretending to fuss with her luggage so no one would realize how scared she’d been.

Why did people do these daredevil things? Didn’t they realize how dangerous it was? That they could lose their lives doing that kind of nonsense?

Anger superseded her fear, and she mentally cursed the man who’d upset her just before she was supposed to meet her new boss. Her heart was pounding, her shoulders were up around her ears, and her stomach roiled. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax as best she could.

Taking out her compact, she slicked on a little lipstick and, noticing the stress lines between her brows, forced herself to release as much tension as possible.

A little calmer as the ferry approached the dock, she glanced down at the shore, trying to see if she could pick out Dr. MacRurie. There was one elderly man there, but Harmony was sure he wasn’t the doctor, who Caitlin had said was in his thirties. Hopefully he hadn’t forgotten she was arriving today, although no doubt she could find her own way to the surgery and the apartment above it where she was staying. The village wasn’t that big, after all.

Glancing at her watch, she realized the ferry was actually a few minutes early. The doctor was probably on his way—unless there’d been a medical emergency somewhere.

Without thought she let her gaze track back to where the man with the jetpack had been, and found him wading out onto the shingles alongside the loch. Even from a distance she could see he was in amazing shape, with the wetsuit clinging to muscular thighs, bum, and torso.

Suddenly, as though sensing her interest, he turned and looked back at the ferry. It would be impossible for him to make her out from that distance, but still she ducked away, embarrassed for no good reason. Nothing wrong or illegal about admiring a man’s backside—especially when he couldn’t see you doing it. And she did love a good backside…

Hopefully he was just a visitor to the island and she wouldn’t have to interact with him. That way she wouldn’t be tempted to tell him how crazy she thought he was, doing what he’d been doing. Besides, even if she hadn’t been turned off by his daredevil stunt, good looking men were on her no-no list right now.

Her experience with Logan had been lesson enough. She’d thought him the perfect fit for her: a handsome yet staid and sensible Certified Public Accountant with a solid head on his shoulders. At least that was what she’d thought until he’d told her he was in love with an intern at his office and was giving up his job to move to Australia with her and start an Outback tour company.

She’d been totally gobsmacked, in equal parts desperately hurt and angry.

Her mum had seemed sympathetic, but unsurprised, while her gran had said, “He’s too boring anyway.”

But Logan’s lack of excitement was one of the things she’d liked best about him. The last thing she wanted in her life was someone like Dad, whose recklessness and need for adventure had gotten him killed on a mountain that, because of his health concerns, he should never have been climbing. She wanted someone safe, reliable, who wouldn’t break her heart or leave her to struggle on her own to raise their child the way her mum had had to.

Maybe she was better off on her own long term, anyway. Loving others just brought pain as far as she could tell.

As the ferry docked, Harmony put her baleful thoughts aside to heft her tote bag onto her shoulder, then pull up the handle of her wheeled suitcase. Taking another deep breath, she set off for the gangplank, ignoring the flutters of anxiety in her stomach.

Somewhere along the line she’d come to the conclusion that life went on, and that what happened was out of her hands. All she could control was how she faced it, and this new job, in this strange place, was to be met head-on, and with a certain amount of panache, to make up for her fear of the unknown.

Pausing to let an older lady go ahead of her, Harmony ran her hand over the faux fur collar of her favorite tweed trench coat, letting the softness of the fabric soothe her jangling nerves. She’d thought about wearing more casual clothes, but dismissed the impulse. Just because her new job was on an island it didn’t mean she wanted to arrive looking as though she didn’t take it seriously. Besides, she liked nice clothes; she felt more confident when she was well dressed.

With her head determinedly high, Harmony went down the gangplank to the dock. When no one stepped forward to meet her, she kept walking toward the building marked “Dock Master’s Office” for all the world as though she knew where she was going.

Suddenly four older ladies, whom she’d thought were there to meet the woman she’d let go down the gangplank ahead of her, surrounded her, bringing her progress to a screeching halt.

“Nurse Kinkaid?” one of them asked with a smile. “You are Nurse Kinkaid, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wonderful! Isn’t it wonderful, girls?”

Unsure about what was so wonderful, Harmony made no comment, simply plastered a smile on her face as all the women seemed to be speaking at once.

“So lovely to have you!”

“Are you Scottish?”

“What a looker you are!”

“Do you craft?”

“How old are you?”

“I adore your coat!”

Stunned by the barrage, Harmony let go her suitcase and held up her hands, one of which had her umbrella in it. Three of the ladies fell silent and stepped back in unison. The fourth stood her ground, the smile on her face never faltering.

“Don’t mind those chatterboxes, Nurse Kinkaid. A bunch of magpies, they are.”

She held out her hand and Harmony instinctively took it, receiving a hearty handshake.

“I’m Eudora Moxley, but call me Dora. And these old bags are Ingrid, Sela and Kat.”

“Katherine,” the tallest of the others growled.

“Kat’s a little touchy about her name, but don’t let it worry you. It’s the English coming out in her.”

“For goodness’ sake, Eudora.” The other woman huffed. “I’ve lived here for nigh on thirty years. Don’t I merit being Scottish by now?”

“You got here thirty years too late for that, Kat,” one of the other women interjected, although whether it was Ingrid or Sela, Harmony had no idea. All the women except for Katherine tittered.

“That’s enough of that,” Katherine retorted. “The nurse is going to think we’re loopy.”

“Oh, but we are—and best she knows it from day one,” Dora retorted, giving Harmony’s fingers one last squeeze before finally releasing them. “We’re the Crafty Islanders, in charge of—well…almost everything here on Eilean Rurie. We wanted to be on hand to greet you and welcome you to the island.”

“Thank you,” Harmony replied weakly, still somewhat shell-shocked by what they called a greeting but felt more like a mugging. “Do you have any idea where I might find Dr. MacRurie?”

“Oh, he’ll be along any minute now. The Laird is always on time, and the ferry was early.”

“Laird?” Wasn’t that Scottish for some kind of a peer? Caitlin hadn’t mentioned anything about him being a peer.

“That’s just a nickname, dear,” Katherine said. “Although he does own most of the island, Cam’s not one to stand on ceremony. It’s not like he’s a duke or anything like that.”

“There you go. That’s why you’re not Scottish yet, Kat.” Dora smirked. “Laird is far better than Duke any day.”

“Tosh” was the testy reply. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

And they started in on each other again, leaving Harmony’s head swimming as insults and ripostes flew back and forth.

If these ladies really did run the place, how did they get anything done? Whether they would impact her ability to do her job was another question she really wanted answered too. As assisting nurse and office manager, she’d brook no interference in her work.

“Ladies,” she said, loudly enough to cut through the arguing, and was relieved when they all stopped and looked at her. “It was lovely meeting you, but if you would just point me in the right direction…?”

“No need,” Dora said, beaming at something behind her. “Here comes the Laird now.”

Instinctively Harmony turned, looked, but all she saw was the guy in the wetsuit coming up along the sea wall. No one else.

Then it struck her—hard.

Her new boss was the handsome jetpack daredevil with the nice bum.

Oh, no.

CHAPTER TWO

CAM WAS STILL buzzing with adrenaline from the jetpack as he made his way up from the beach along the path on the seawall. It had been such a rush he’d ridden it for longer than he’d planned, and had missed his chance to change before meeting the ferry. Hopefully his new nurse would be the easygoing type, and wouldn’t be fazed by meeting her new boss when he was wearing a wetsuit.

It was a shame he hadn’t been able to give Sanjit permission to offer water jetpack rides to visitors, but he’d had to nix the idea even though Sanjit had put up a good argument.

“It could be a new draw for visitors in summer, when we have our slump. Another activity to add to the website, making a trip here more attractive at times other than Christmas.”

“True, but the liability issue is one we can’t get away from.” He’d slapped the younger man on the shoulder, then reached for his towel. “It’s a lot of fun, but one major accident and the entire island would suffer the consequences.”

It was true. Because the MacRurie Trust owned most of Eilean Rurie, no matter what insurance Sanjit might purchase to cover operating a water jetpack rental, the trust—and Cam as its director—would still be considered liable should anything go wrong. One major lawsuit might break the bank, or at least severely deplete it. He considered the island to be entrusted to him for posterity, so protecting it and its inhabitants was his first order of business.

But, wow, it had been tempting to give Sanjit the go-ahead—if for no other reason than being able to ride the jetpack himself.

Approaching the dock, he saw the Crafty Islanders had beat him there, and had a well-dressed woman he assumed was his new nurse and administrator surrounded. She seemed to be fending them off with her umbrella—a sight which made Cam snort, as he tried to hold back laughter.

Not that he blamed Nurse Kinkaid in the slightest. The CIs en masse were a force to be reckoned with. There was no doubt in his mind they were peppering her with intrusive questions and firing off comments before she could even decide whether to answer or not. That was their usual modus operandi, and they could frighten the stoutest of souls.

“Please don’t scare off my lifesaver,” he muttered, picking up his pace, hoping to break up the interrogation before it got too bad.

Then the young woman looked over her shoulder, her thick, curly hair swinging away from her face as she did so. Her gaze tracked past Cam, then snapped back to him, and her eyes widened.

Cam, midstride, had to catch himself so he didn’t falter under what he could only describe as the glare she sent him.

But even with lines between her eyebrows and her lips pursed into a disapproving rosette, she was gorgeous. He had only a moment to register her high cheekboned face and skin like golden syrup mixed with cinnamon before she turned back around, but the effect lingered.

Something about the curve of her cheek and chin, the long line of her throat, gave him a jolt of adrenaline on top of the residue already keeping his nerves jangling. It had been a very long time since the sight of a woman had brought him to total awareness, filling him with curiosity and inciting the kind of physical interest he least expected, or wanted.

Since leaving his job with a refugee agency four years before, and taking over the management of Eilean Rurie, he had made the island his base. The transition to being in one place after travelling the world had been difficult, but in a strange way it had afforded him the chance to do more of the adventurous activities he enjoyed.

He had time to travel now, to climb, cave, to do whatever else he wanted, and he was having the time of his life. There was no room in his life for the kind of visceral fascination he felt with just one glimpse of this young woman.

It would be okay, he reassured himself as he finally neared the group. She wouldn’t be around for very long. He just had to get through the Christmas rush, and then he could find a permanent replacement. Ignoring this strange attraction wouldn’t be too hard.

“There you are—finally,” Dora said.

“You’ll be late for your own funeral,” Sela added.

“The later the better. But I’ll have you know I’m exactly on time,” Cam retorted, giving his watch a pointed glance before turning to the silent young woman and holding out his hand. “Nurse Kinkaid, I presume?”

“You presume correctly,” she replied, seeming to hesitate for a moment before taking his outstretched hand and giving it a brief, firm shake. “And I understand you’re Dr. MacRurie?”

Her eyes were gorgeous. Hazel, fringed with dark, tightly curled lashes, they matched her skin tone and gave her the look of a haughty lioness. Her watchful gaze, coupled with the low, husky voice made his toes curl.

Taken aback, especially by his reaction to her, all he could manage to say was “In the flesh.”

“You mean in the wetsuit, don’t you?” Ingrid asked, making all the CIs snicker.

Suddenly aware of his state of undress—which hadn’t bothered him in the slightest before—Cam frowned, making them all giggle harder. Nurse Kinkaid didn’t join in, but the little lines between her brows quickly came and went.

“Yes, well… If you’ll come with me to the Dock Master’s Office, Nurse Kinkaid, I’ll change and take you over to the surgery.”

“So, did you give Sanjit the approval to run his new business?” Katherine interjected, before he could make his escape.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Liability?” asked Ingrid, who was a retired barrister, and Cam nodded.

“Got it in one.” Before any of them could get going again, he quickly added, “Let me take your suitcase, Nurse Kinkaid, and we’ll be on our way.”

As he matched actions to words the CIs chorused their goodbyes, peppered with lovely-to-meet-yous and we’ll-catch-up-soons, all aimed at the new nurse—who, wisely, exited their orbit with just a friendly wave and the slight upturning of her lips.

“Will we see you at the planning meeting this evening, Cam?” called Dora.

“Of course,” he called back, making sure not to break stride in case they took it as an invitation.

“Wow,” the nurse said, as soon as they were out of earshot. “They’re something, aren’t they?”

“That they are,” Cam said, but was suddenly protective of the women who often drove him bonkers. “But, despite being a pain in my rear most of the time, they’re invaluable to the island. With such a small population it’s good to have people willing to get involved and organize things.”

“I’m sure. However, I hope that doesn’t apply to your practice? I find I work best with only one boss. Causes far less confusion.”

“Good Lord, no.” Cam actually laughed at the thought of the CIs butting into his real work.

He opened the door to the Dock Master’s Office, and stood back for her to enter ahead of him.

“They’re involved with practically all other aspects of life on the island, though, just so you know.”

“I can see that being the case.”

She’d stepped through the door ahead of him and Cam found himself admiring her figure, which was full and curvy. Lush hips swayed with a siren’s rhythm as she walked, mesmerizing him until he caught himself and resolutely tore his gaze away.

Even more aware of the wetsuit, and feeling silly in the face of his new, rather formal nurse, Cam said, “If you’ll wait here, Nurse Kinkaid, I’ll get changed as quickly as possible and take you to your apartment.”

“Please, call me Harmony,” she said, while looking around the office. Seemingly without conscious thought, she straightened a pile of magazines on the table beside the door. “When I hear ‘Nurse Kinkaid’ like that, I instinctively look around for my mother.”

“Sure,” he said, seeing an opening to get to know her better but unable to take advantage of it. She completely unsettled him, making him want to get away and catch his breath, not to mention get out of his wetsuit. “I’ll remember that. Be right back.”

But as he shimmied out of the wetsuit he found himself wondering what she’d look like if she truly smiled. Something told him that rather prim mouth would turn sumptuous and appealing.

Become eminently kissable.

Cam cursed to himself.

She’s definitely going to be a problem.

He just had to make sure that, no matter what happened, the problem didn’t involve him.

The interest she stirred in him wasn’t something he’d ever consider acting on. Even if getting involved with an employee wasn’t tacky—which it was—he liked his relationships short and with no strings attached. No matter how quickly her tenure on the island would be over he’d have to work with her, and the chances of it all going sideways were large.

Finally dressed in his street clothes, he grabbed his jacket and went back out into the main part of the office. Danny Smith, the Dock Master, wasn’t there, so Harmony was still alone, standing in front of one of the myriad pictures on the wall. It was a painting of one of the rescue boats that used to be launched from the island in rough seas back in the early part of the twentieth century.

“That’s my great-grandfather in the prow of that boat,” he said, going to stand beside her. “They were probably going out to help with a sea rescue after a wreck—or at least that was what the artist was portraying.”

She sent him a brief glance, and once more he felt a zing of electricity when he realized her eyes were more green than gold. Getting used to them was going to take some doing.

“Do you still have a lifeboat station here?” she asked.

“I wish,” he said.

How many times had he stood staring at this painting, imagining himself on that boat, fighting the seas, on his way to save lives?

“Now the Coast Guard handles all the rescues. In the old days almost all the islands had manned boats, because it took the authorities much longer to get to the site of a wreck. Now, once someone radios the helicopters can be in the air in a matter of minutes. The private rescue units aren’t needed anymore. I think the last one was disbanded here in the nineteen-seventies.”

“Hmm.”

It was a noncommittal sound, and he figured the conversation was over. “Shall we head over to the surgery?”

“Sure,” she said, but she stared at the painting a little longer before turning away.

He led her out through the other side of the building, which took them onto the main street through the village. This time of the afternoon, there weren’t many people around, but he knew many of the residents were peeping out from behind their curtains. Everyone knew the nurse was arriving today. Everyone was curious.

As they walked he pointed out the Post Office, the grocery store, the pub, and Sanjit’s restaurant, thinking them the most important.

“The Ladies from Hades?” she said, obviously catching sight of the pub sign, with a kilted and armed Highlander painted on it.

“It’s a play on the nickname for a famous Scottish regiment.”

“The Black Watch,” she said, surprising him. “Must have been opened by an ex-military man. And you have a curry shop here too?”

He wanted to ask how she knew about the Black Watch and their World War I nickname, but left it for another time.

“We’re actually very lucky,” he explained, speaking a little louder than usual because of the sound of her suitcase bumping along behind him over the cobbles. He’d left the sliver of sidewalk to her and her high heels, since the last thing he needed was for her to twist her ankle before she even started working. “Eilean Rurie has attracted a variety of artists, farmers, and business people over the years, making our population rather more eclectic than some of the other islands.”

“Like the owner of the curry shop?”

“Exactly. Sanjit Gopaul came here on vacation with his parents and, for whatever reason, fell in love with the island. He came back and asked if I’d be willing to let him open a restaurant, and I said sure. That was five years ago. He’s been an amazing addition to the island and shows no signs of wanting to leave. In fact, he also runs a canoe rental and tour operation during the summer, and he’s always looking for new businesses to start.”

“Including that jet thing?”

There was no mistaking the disapproval in her voice, and his look at her profile found it echoed there in her pursed lips. It made Cam’s hackles rise a bit.

“Yes, like the water jetpack. I was sad to have to tell him no. It was a lot of fun. Wouldn’t you like to have a go?”

She gave him a bland look, all censure erased from her expression. “I should say not. I’m not into that kind of thing.”

Striving for a light tone, he teased, “What kind of thing? Having fun?”

Looking into the window of the shop they were passing, she replied, “More like stuff that’ll get you killed or maimed.”

“Ha! It’s safe as houses if you’re careful and know what you’re doing.”

The skeptical look she gave him scorched him to his toes.

“No wonder you didn’t give him permission to offer it to visitors.” Then, as if tired of the discussion, she changed the subject completely. “Your village is beautiful—although I’ll admit when I first saw the island from the ferry I thought it looked like something out of a very scary story.”

That made Cam chuckle, even though he still felt the sting of her retort about the jetpack. He knew the exact vista she was talking about.

“Eigg Point, no doubt—before you round the headland and see the village. That sheer black cliff with the sea foaming around its base does look like it belongs in a horror movie on a misty, overcast day like today. On a sunny day, though, when the hills are so startlingly green they look like they were drawn with crayon and the water is smooth and clear, it’s very different. There’s the surgery,” he added, pointing across the grassy village green to the three-story building beyond.

“That’s your surgery? It looks more like a fancy hotel!”

Cam chuckled. “My great-grandfather built it to try and attract a decent doctor to take up residence. I used to tease my grandfather that he only took up medicine so he’d be able to work in the second nicest building on the island. He didn’t deny it.”

“I don’t blame him,” she said.

The appreciation in her voice was pleasing.

“Normally I’d cut across the green to get to the surgery, but it’s pretty wet right now and your heels would sink in.”

“Thank you.”

She had a prim way of speaking he rather liked, and an intriguing way of pronouncing some words that gave unusual flavor to an otherwise very North London voice. Caitlin had mentioned that Harmony’s mother’s family had originally come from Jamaica, and he thought he could hear an echo of that migration in the nurse’s voice. It was so nice, especially with its husky tone, he was tempted to keep her talking so he could go on hearing it.

“Patients come in through either the front door or the one closest to the car park on the north side,” he told her as they approached the surgery. “But you have your own entrance on the other side.”

Cam led her around the building, and as they got to the door heard her give a little gasp.

“Oh! What’s that back there?”

She was looking up the hill through the trees, along the track he used every day.

“That’s the nicest building on the island—Rurie Manor.”

Big hazel eyes stared at him. “You live there?”

“Yeah,” he said, opening the outer door and holding it for her, once more pleased at her awestruck reaction to his home. “But only in a small part of it. Most of the Manor is a hotel now.”

Harmony turned back to stare at the Manor a moment more, before stepping through the door and into the entryway.

Cam glanced at his watch. Time to test his glucose levels.

Handing her the keys, he said, “There’s another door at the top of the stairs, and the door behind me leads into the surgery, so I sometimes come in this way, but otherwise you’ll be the only person using it. Go on up and check out your apartment, and I’ll bring up your suitcase in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

Her slightly stiff reply made him want to break the ice a little more. He was used to a relaxed atmosphere in his practice and hoped to establish that type of working relationship with her too. Even with his niggling suspicion he should actually keep her as distant as he could. Just standing in the small entryway she seemed too close, with her citrusy perfume warming the air between them and those golden eyes surveying him with solemn intensity.

“Hopefully life on the island won’t seem too tame and boring for you after living and working in London. At least Christmas should be exciting.”

His words stumbled to a halt, arrested by the flash of pain crossing her face.

“I’m looking forward to the quiet,” she said, turning toward the steps and hitching her tote bag higher. “And Christmas can pass me by and I won’t complain.”

Had he somehow put his foot in his mouth? He couldn’t see how. Everyone loved Christmas, didn’t they?

But even as he was trying to figure out what he’d said wrong he found himself staring once more at her delectable rear end, until it sashayed around the corner of the landing and disappeared.

CHAPTER THREE

HARMONY STOOD IN the middle of the apartment, not even taking in the space around her, annoyed at herself for being so curt with her new employer. Not to mention for the sarcastic comment she’d made to him earlier about the water jetpack.

It wasn’t really like her to be that way, but hearing him make light of her innate dislike of risky behavior had irked her—so, like her mother always said, she’d run her mouth, speaking before thinking.

But there was something about him that had put her on edge from the first time she’d looked him in the eyes. He was, she had to admit, a fine specimen. Handsome, in a rugged, outdoorsy kind of way, with brown hair just shy of ginger and blue-gray eyes, his looks alone made him a standout. Couple his face with a body that looked amazing even in a wetsuit, and Harmony knew he must make women’s heads turn faster than wheels on ice.

But it wasn’t his looks that were making her snarky. There was an air about him—an aura of confidence and ease that, conversely, made her tense and jumpy. And when he’d mentioned Christmas, just as she’d promised herself a hiatus from the entire season, it had brought all her pain flooding back.

For almost as long as she could remember Christmas had been a special time for Mum, Gran and Harmony. There was always a flurry of baking, both English treats and Jamaican. And a night specially planned to trim the tree while listening to a variety of holiday music or old movies.

They’d also watch Greetings from Yaad, an hour-long special filmed in Jamaica, in which people could wish their loved ones in England a Merry Christmas. Harmony had used to dislike the amateurishly filmed show, until Gran had said, “We may not know any of these people, but it makes me happy to hear the accents of my youth.”

That had always led to conversations about old times in Jamaica, and even how things had been for Gran when she’d first moved to England. She’d been part of the Windrush generation, coming from the colonies to help with the rebuilding efforts in the UK after World War II. She’d had to leave all her family behind, including Mum, but once she’d gotten herself a job and somewhere to live she’d started saving so she could send for her husband and daughter.

Grandpa had decided he didn’t want to live in England, so eventually Mum had travelled to the UK with her Uncle Shorty, Gran’s brother. Uncle Shorty, a perennial bachelor, had settled in Birmingham, but had come to visit every Christmas until he died, adding to the family fun. Harmony could still remember his plaid driving cap, his booming laugh and the way the scent of smoke and cologne clung to his clothes.

On Christmas Eve they’d have neighbors and friends in and out of the house, each one of them bringing a little gift, receiving goodies in return.

Until they’d passed away her other grandparents had come too, on Christmas morning, even after Dad hadn’t been there anymore, and all Harmony remembered was the joy and closeness. The laughter and sometimes a few shared tears too.

All that was gone now—and darn Dr. MacRurie for reminding her of what she’d lost this year.

But it wouldn’t do to start their working relationship off on a bad footing, and she wondered if it would be politic to apologize to him for her behavior.

Harmony considered that option, then dismissed it. Unless he brought it up, she wouldn’t either. Less said, soonest mended, right?

Suddenly realizing she was in danger of having the doctor come up and find her still standing there like a ninny, Harmony quickly took off her coat and shoes, stowing them in the entryway closet. Then she took a really good look around.

The apartment was a lot larger than she’d expected, with an L-shaped living and dining room and a kitchen almost as big as her mum’s. There were also not two but three good-sized bedrooms, all tastefully decorated with a combination of new and more traditional furniture. And the bathroom, with its deep soaker tub and a separate shower, made her coo.

The entire space had obviously been modernized, but whoever had done it had been careful to keep a lot of the original Victorian elements. The living room fireplace, which was lit, had the most amazing carved mantel and pillars, along with a tile surround and hearth. There were medallions on the ceiling, and intricately carved jambs around the doors. Even the door knobs were decorative, and Harmony found herself smiling as she palmed one of the floral patterned porcelain ovoids.

She staked out the bedroom she wanted, which had a sleigh bed and large windows that were letting in the last of the afternoon light. Outside was a tiny balcony, just big enough for a miniscule wrought-iron table and matching chair, and in the distance was Rurie Manor, sitting in solitary splendor on the top of a gently sloping hill.

It looked gorgeous, and she wondered if she’d get a chance to see the inside. Although if it had been turned into a hotel, she might be disappointed.

Hearing Dr. MacRurie coming up the stairs, she went back into the living area just as he came through the front door.

“Here you go,” he said, putting down her suitcase, seemingly not at all put out by her ill-mannered behavior. “Have you decided which room you want? I’ll put your case on the luggage stand for you.”

“Thank you. That one,” she said, pointing to the still open door, determined to put her best foot forward.

He wheeled the suitcase across the living area, speaking as he went. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. Caitlin and her husband had a dog, so I gave them a cottage instead—for convenience. Knowing you’d have to be here over the holidays, I figured this place is big enough that if you have someone come for Christmas they can stay with you.”

There he went with the whole Christmas thing again!

“I won’t.” It came instinctively, pain pushing the brusque words out. Drawing herself up, and not wanting to sound as churlish as she felt, she added, “But thank you.”

“Oh.” He’d put her bag in the room and was standing in the doorway, his gaze sharp. But all he said was “Well, if that changes you’ll be all set. But if not at least you won’t be bored. This time of year is nice and busy.”

“This time of year? What’s so special about it?”

Giving her a surprised glance, he said, “Caitlin didn’t tell you?” Then he answered his own question. “Of course, she had other things on her mind. Eilean Rurie is famous for its Winter Festival. Well, it used to be called the Christmas Festival until the eighties, when my grandfather changed the name. We’re called the North Pole of Scotland, and we attract hundreds of people every year.”

Oh, come on.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

He gave her one of his killer smiles, and Harmony’s stomach fluttered, making her look away in case her reaction showed.

“Did you know that celebrating Christmas—well, really it was Yule back then—was banned in Scotland in the sixteenth century? Christmas Day wasn’t made a public holiday until 1958, and Boxing Day was only recognized in the seventies. My great-grandfather decided he wanted to make the holidays a big splash, and encouraged all the islanders to do it too, once the ban was officially lifted. It evolved into the Christmas Festival, and then the Winter Festival, and it’s grown with each year.”

Plunking herself down onto the squishy sofa, Harmony only just stopped herself from putting her head in her hands in disbelief. Hundreds of people, running around singing carols and doing who knew what else?

Just shoot me now!

Yet the smile on the doctor’s face told her there was only one of them in the room who viewed the upcoming festivities with horror. The happy anticipation on his face spoke volumes, and it made Harmony pull herself together once more, even while wondering how many other times this man was going to throw her off-kilter.

“How on earth do you accommodate hundreds of people here? The village doesn’t look big enough.”

“Well, the manor has a lot of rooms, and most of the villagers offer bed and breakfast services, using their spare rooms, or even small apartments attached to their houses. Most of the temporary staff are island kids coming back for winter break, but the others who don’t have a place to stay have dormitories behind the church. A couple of really entrepreneurial souls have even put up a few tiny houses on their properties, and rent those out to visitors. We also get quite a few daytrippers, and the ferry runs more frequently to accommodate them. Most of the residents benefit in some way from the festival. If they didn’t we wouldn’t bother. It’s a lot of work.”

Harmony shook her head in disbelief, still not sure he was telling the truth. “But there’s nothing going on. No one’s putting up lights or decorating.”

“It’s too early,” he said, somewhat cryptically, then added, “Poke around downstairs tomorrow, if you like, or just rest up from your trip. The surgery is closed on Saturday afternoon, and Sunday, although everyone on the island has my number and will call if they need me. I’ve made a list of numbers and left it on the hall table for you, in case you need anything, and the CIs have stocked the fridge—although, who knows what they put in there? Ingrid’s a vegan, and Katherine’s always on some kind of diet, Dora has a sweet tooth that won’t quit, and Sela is crazy for cheese.”

By the time he’d finished his recitation Harmony found herself chuckling. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make a meal of whatever they’ve left, and I’ll bless Dora forever if there’s a chocolate something in amongst the rest.”

Cam was grinning too. “I have no doubt there is, but if you feel up to it nip over to the pub too. They do a really great Scotch pie on Saturdays.”

“Maybe I will,” she said.

“Right, well… I have to go. Final planning meeting tonight, and it will no doubt be a fractious one. When we get to this time of year they usually are, because everyone is so frazzled and behind on everything. If you need anything give me a shout. I always have my phone on me.”

He paused halfway out through the door.

“Oh, and there’s an Armistice Day ceremony at the cenotaph on Monday, starting at ten. Come along, if you’d like.”

Then he was gone, clattering down the stairs, leaving her to wonder why, when she had been so determined to stay away from Christmas, she’d landed in the North Pole of Scotland. And why, having decided to ignore men, she found her boss so damned handsome.

Cam had been right about the meeting being contentious, but he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on the grumbles and arguments going on around him. Instead he found himself thinking about his new nurse. Her sometimes curt way of speaking, juxtaposed with her delightful throaty giggle as he listed the CIs eating habits, made her a fascinating enigma. And, yes, her delicious looks.

Even though he wasn’t interested in relationships he was still all-male—able and willing to appreciate a beautiful face and a lovely curvy figure. As long as he remembered he could look but not touch, it was all good.

“Melanie, the theme was decided back in February. It’s not our fault if you’ve not gotten on board with it.”

At the sound of Dora’s firm rebuttal Cam pulled his thoughts away from Harmony Kinkaid and back to the battle of wills going on in front of him.

“But it’s silly. We did Love as a theme before. Why do it again?”

Melanie was as stubborn as ever, and as one of Scotland’s best-known living potters always felt her word should be law. But Dora never fell in line with that concept.

“That was nigh on twenty years ago. And what better theme could we have for the Winter Festival than that? No matter the religion, or the holiday, love is at the center of them all, isn’t it?”

Cam intervened, before things got too heated.

“Melanie, you know full well it’s too late to change the theme, so either you’ve gone with it or not. The choice was yours.”

Then Hugh Jacobson had a complaint about the decision to extend the festival hours to ten at night. “The strain on the electricity grid will increase, along with the costs. I don’t subscribe to this.”

Cam doubted that was his real reason for complaining. Hugh was probably worried that the extra noise and lights would disturb his mother, but didn’t want to come right out and say so.

“Hugh, the new wind turbine provides more than enough power to cover the additional load, and the generators were serviced last month. The increased revenue for us all will more than offset any additional costs, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“But the noise…the lights on until so late. It’s untenable.”

“I’ll buy you some blackout curtains when I go to the mainland next Wednesday,” Sela interjected, and although Hugh still looked unhappy the meeting moved on.

Afterwards Cam realized he wasn’t the only one thinking about Nurse Kinkaid—although, perhaps not in the same way.

“I thought your new nurse might have come to the meeting. She looks as though she’d be a good addition to the planning team” was Dora’s opening sally.

The last thing Cam wanted was to spend more time with Harmony Kinkaid than necessary. His unsettling reaction to her made keeping her at arm’s length a good thing. Besides, every time he’d mentioned Christmas she had withdrawn at the talk of the season.

But there was no way he was letting Dora and the rest of the nosy CIs know that. His nurse would get no peace until they’d ferreted out the reason for her aversion.

So, trying to protect her as best he could, he said, “First off, let her settle in a bit before you expect her to get into the middle of island life. And, secondly, she’s only going to be here for a short time. Why would you think she’d be interested?”

“Oh, I don’t know that she will be, but it’s always nice to have a fresh face and a new viewpoint in the proceedings. I’m hoping she’ll lend a hand once she finds her feet.”

Thankfully, before he had to think up another round of excuses as to why Harmony probably wouldn’t, Dora and the other ladies were departing with hugs and waves, according to their personal preference.

As he strode down Main Street Cam considered the unlikely friends, each so different and yet all completely devoted to the others. They were the soul and the backbone of the Winter Festival—a point Cam had to concede, despite being almost always annoyed with their attempts to interfere in his life too.

Their organizational skills alone were worth their collective weight in gold, but along with that they also contributed in so many other ways. Designing and sewing costumes, painting backdrops, deciding on the lighting for the public areas and the decoration of the green, making sure everyone who needed help got it… The list went on and on.

If they’d just accept the fact that Cam wasn’t the type to be controlled or tied down, and nor would he be guilt-tripped into things, they’d all get along much better. He’d had enough of that growing up—from his mother. The last thing he needed now was to have four more women fussing over him, trying to get him to do what they thought was best.

When he’d been diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic at the age of four, his mother’s reaction had been to coddle him, fearful of what might happen if he did any of the normal childhood activities. If it hadn’t been for his grandfather, taking him in hand at the age of eleven and teaching Cam how to control his disease, encouraging him to be more adventurous, Cam had no idea how he might have turned out.

Nearing the cemetery, Cam instinctively turned in, walking the familiar path to the spot under a gnarled and now bare oak where a number of his ancestors were interred.

“Evening, Grand-Da,” he said, reaching down to brush a couple of late-fallen leaves off his grandfather’s headstone. “Just left the planning meeting. All the usual nonsense for this time of year. I wonder if there’ll ever be a time where things run smoothly.”

The bench was cold, yet dry, and the evening breeze brisk, but Cam settled in for a little visit. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, he looked up at the sickle moon.

“Got a new temporary nurse in today and I’m hoping she’ll work out okay.”

He was hoping more than anything else that Harmony Kinkaid wouldn’t turn the relatively stable island world upside down.

Wouldn’t turn his world upside down.

As long as she did her job, he shouldn’t care about anything else. He just needed to get through the winter rush with someone he could count on to keep the surgery going and his patients taken care of, along with aiding with any injuries. After that he’d have the time and head space to find a permanent employee.

All he could hope for was a certain level of professionalism and competence from Harmony Kinkaid. If she could produce that, all would be well.

CHAPTER FOUR

DAY THREE OF her island experience and Harmony looked at the clock again, giving a huff. Thank goodness this was a temporary position, because otherwise this place would drive her to drink. She’d been waiting for Dr. MacRurie’s next patient to arrive for almost ten minutes and there was no sign of him. No call either.

She’d spent Sunday exploring the surgery, making lists of things she needed to get done. The lower floor held the waiting room, an X-ray room, the records room, two examination rooms and Dr. MacRurie’s office, along with a reception/office area for Harmony and, in the back, a kitchenette.

Climbing the steps to the second floor, she’d found a larger office, now clearly used for old records and abandoned furniture, and five bedrooms, which seemed set up to house patients. This had been confirmed when she’d located a relatively modern elevator at the back of the building—big enough to accommodate a stretcher. Having not noticed any corresponding doors downstairs, she’d ridden it down and realized it came out into what she’d assumed to be a maintenance closet behind the kitchenette.

When she’d asked the doctor about the second floor the next morning he’d explained that occasionally they’d have a patient who needed overnight observation. Or, if the weather was forecast to be terrible and he was worried about outlying elderly folks, he’d bring them in and house them there.

While Caitlin had written her up a list of duties, with notations on where to find things, in just that first go-through Harmony had been able to see areas in need of improvement. Caitlin was a fine nurse, as Harmony knew, but her administrative skills left something to be desired. At least in Harmony’s opinion.

She’d spent the first part of Monday morning trying to put the records into some semblance of order. The files weren’t stored to her preferred specifications, and she had broken a sweat moving armfuls of records back and forth. Then, and only then, had she started on a pile of notes that hadn’t been dealt with—probably from the time between when her friend had left and the present.

Luckily she was an expert in interpreting “doctor write,” because Cameron MacRurie’s penmanship was something to behold. She’d often thought that doctors wrote so poorly because their brains were going faster than their hands could follow. If that were the case, her new employer must be a genius!

They’d opened early, because of the Armistice Day ceremony, and she was down in her office before seven. But her frustration levels had risen as their eight o’clock patient had been a no-show, and the eight thirty had sauntered in almost fifteen minutes late. To add insult to injury, the woman had insisted there was no need for Harmony to do any kind of pre-examination tests.

Not that Harmony hadn’t tried to get her job done.

“Dr. MacRurie will expect me to have weighed you, taken your blood pressure and temperature, plus asked you about the reason you’re here so I can make notes.”

“Och, no,” Mrs. Campbell had rebutted, in the strongest Scottish accent Harmony had heard since arriving on Eilean Rurie. And from her steely glare Harmony had been able to tell she meant business too. “The Laird’ll do all that himself. I’ll show myself in.”

And before Harmony had been able to react the elderly lady had marched right past her and into Dr. MacRurie’s office without even a knock on the door.

Rushing after her, file in hand, Harmony had expected a reprimand from the doctor, but all he’d said was “Ah, here’s your file, Amelia. Thank you, Harmony.”

Taking it as a dismissal, and thankful not to have got a flea in her ear from him, she’d scuttled back to her desk. Yet, it had still burned when Mrs. Campbell had marched past her at five past nine without even a fare-thee-well.

She wasn’t used to patients totally dismissing her that way, and now, with their nine o’clock also a no-show, she was decidedly out of sorts.

She decided it would be best to ask how she was supposed to handle this type of situation, so she walked down to the doctor’s office and knocked.

“Come in,” he called, and Harmony pushed open the door, just in time to see him pulling up his shirt. “Is Mr. Gibson here?”

“Um…no,” she replied, surprised to realize he was injecting himself with an insulin pen. Taken off guard, she forgot why she was there and asked, “You’re a diabetic?”

“Yes. Have been since I was four.”

He said it casually, but Harmony was still taken aback. Caitlin hadn’t mentioned this, and all around the room there were pictures of him doing all kinds of dangerous stuff: mountain-climbing, caving, hang gliding, hiking through remote-looking terrain… Not that having diabetes should preclude him from doing any of those things, just as her father’s heart condition hadn’t stopped him from indulging his own daredevil spirit.

But look how that had ended.

Already in a bit of a snit because of the patients, now she found her mental comparison of Cam to her father was making her cross her arms, trying to hold in the spate of words hovering on her tongue.

Instead of letting them loose, she took a deep breath, then asked, “Did you plan to tell me?”

Cam glanced up, his eyebrows lifted. “Why would I tell you something so mundane when you’d no doubt find out about it sooner or later?”

Although his tone was even, there was an unusually cool expression in his eyes.

“Well, I’m your nurse. The only other medical practitioner on the island that I know of. What would happen if you went hypo or hyperglycemic and I wasn’t aware of your condition?”

“I’m very well versed in the monitoring and treatment of my diabetes, and I haven’t had an incident in ages. Don’t fuss, Nurse Kinkaid.”

She wanted to ask what he meant when he said, “ages,” but there was no mistaking the steel in his voice. Not to mention his reversion from calling her Harmony to Nurse Kinkaid, so she kept her mouth shut, for a change.

“Was there something you wanted?”

He was putting away his diabetes kit, and although the chill might have gone from his voice, Harmony still felt the flick of his disapproval keenly.

She adopted a formal tone in return. “What is your official policy on missed appointments?”

“Reschedule the patient.”

Really annoyed now, Harmony said, “No, I mean how do I charge them for not showing up nor even calling to say they wouldn’t be coming? Do I do it through the mail?”

Cam’s eyebrows rose again, and he stared at her for a moment, before chuckling. “Ha! Only do that if you want to have a stream of highly upset people coming in to see you. Don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s a waste of my time, and yours. Don’t you charge them at all?”

Cam got up and stretched. “Most of the time everyone keeps their appointments, but this time of year things get a little crazy.”

Distracted by the sight of his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, Harmony tried to look away, but she had a hard time forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Since Mr. Gibson hasn’t shown up I’m going to run back up to the Manor before the ceremony. After it’s over I have a quick house call to make, and then I thought I’d take you around the island and show you where the patients you’ll need to visit live. Interested?”

“Sure, that’ll be really helpful.” She’d been worried about losing her way on her rounds, so that was a relief.

“Actually, you can come with me to see Mrs. Jacobson too. She’s just a few steps away from the surgery, and I’ll be asking you to start looking in on her, as well. She’s in the final stages of liver failure—cirrhosis caused by hemochromatosis, poor soul. She moved here to be close to her son, Hugh, once she’d decided not to undergo any further treatment. I’ve had her on a bi-weekly visit, but I think it’s time to increase the frequency.”

“Do you need me to pull her file?”

“No, I have it here,” he replied, tapping the folder on his desk.

He spoke a little more about Mrs. Jacobson’s prior treatment, and what he’d prescribed to battle the ascites and hepatic encephalopathy. It was, in effect, palliative care, and Harmony wasn’t surprised he wanted to up the number of times she was seen.

“I told Hugh I’d be by at one, so maybe grab something to eat after the ceremony, and if you could be ready at a quarter to, that would be great. Oh, and do you have a pair of wellies?”

She’d been wondering why they needed fifteen minutes to go a few doors down when he asked the question and it distracted her. “I haven’t worn Wellington boots since my days in the Guides. Do I need them?”

“Some of the farmyards will be a quagmire after the rain we’ve had, so they’d be a good idea for when you go to do your rounds.”

Unimpressed with the thought of messing up her trainers, which were pretty new and had been a splurge buy, she asked, “Is there somewhere I can buy some?”

Cam shook his head. “You’d have to go to the mainland—or order online and have them delivered, which would take longer. We have a bunch of them up at the Manor. What size do you wear?”

“Seven and a half.”

“Okay.” He sent her one of his heart-stopping smiles. “I’ll hunt out a pair for you.”

Cam was already heading for the door and Harmony watched him go, still stinging from his earlier set-down, and annoyed at the way her heart leapt and fluttered whenever he grinned that way.

The thought of spending time with him as he showed her around the island flustered her. Hopefully it was just because he was her boss and she wasn’t used to him yet, she mused, knowing it was more. She was attracted to him—which was another wrinkle in what was already a situation so far outside her comfort zone as to be in a different universe.

It would be a lot easier not to have a physical reaction to him if he were a little less handsome and didn’t have a gazillion-kilowatt smile. Not even the knowledge that he was a risk-taking daredevil could stop those butterflies from invading her insides whenever he entered the room or smiled her way.

But it should, she reminded herself. The very last thing she needed was to be attracted to a man like her father. The type of man who put his need for adventure before everything else—even his health, or the people who loved him.

Cam made his escape, wondering how he was going to get through the next month and half.

Harmony Kinkaid, his fussy, big-city nurse administrator, was already making him crazy.

She’d rearranged all his files, so he couldn’t find anything. She wanted to come down hard on patients who didn’t turn up for their appointments. She’d silently showed her displeasure when he’d mentioned he’d be leaving on a hiking and rock-climbing trip to Peru just after Hogmanay, even when he’d said there’d be a locum to fill in for him.

But it had been her expression when she’d realized he had type 1 diabetes that had really aggravated him. She, of all people, should know it was no reason for him not to live fully.

Thank goodness for Grand-Da, who’d shown Cam that the disease wasn’t an impediment to having a good, exciting life.

“It’s something to be managed,” Grand-Da had told him in his habitual no-nonsense way, that first summer he’d come to stay. “Once you learn how to do that anything is doable. You just have to accept you have it and be smart about it.”

Learning how to control the effects of his diabetes had given him a freedom beyond his wildest imagining. Gone had been the days when he’d only watched other boys enjoying themselves, never being allowed to join in. And at the age of thirteen Cam had embraced his new-found independence with gusto. Pitting himself against nature, or against his own limitations or fears, had brought him fully alive.

He’d seen Harmony glance at the pictures on his wall, had almost been able to hear her internal dialog regarding the pastimes he chose. As she was a nurse he was surprised at her reaction. Hell, there were type 1 diabetics playing rough professional sports. It all came down to how you took care of yourself and managed the disease.

Maybe he wouldn’t be so testy if it wasn’t so close to the opening of the Winter Festival and everyone wasn’t going bonkers. He’d had one or other of the CIs on the phone almost constantly, complaining about something or needing help with different situations. They kept trying to get him to recruit Harmony too, but so far he’d been able to still keep them at bay.

Settling into his vehicle, Cam ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

The truth of it was, for all her annoying qualities, his attraction to Harmony hadn’t abated one little bit. All morning, whenever they’d been in the same room, Cam had found himself watching her—not as a boss assessing a new hire’s abilities, but as a man admiring a beautiful woman. He’d found himself liking the way she moved, liking the scent—something floral and sweet today—that wafted around her, and her expressions with those flashes of emotion she tried so hard to hide.

And those amazing eyes were golden again today. They had him constantly checking to see whether they’d changed to green again…

Despite her trying to boss him around and compulsively rearranging things, he couldn’t get his mind off her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, as he got True Blue started and, after her usual complaints, into gear. “You only just met her. It’s just the draw of the unknown…”

But his words rang hollow in his own ears, and he was still obsessing over Harmony Kinkaid as he drove home, looking forward to spending the rest of the day with her.

And mentally kicking himself because he was.

CHAPTER FIVE

CAM STOOD WITH his head bowed as John Harris read out the list of islanders who’d served in World War I and World War II. The Armistice Day ceremony was being held at the cenotaph at the north end of the village green, and Cam was aware of Harmony standing next to him, all her attention on the elderly wheelchair-bound gentleman.

He was one of the patients she’d be checking on when she was on her rounds, and Cam had promised at least to point out those who were attending, even if he didn’t get a chance to introduce her to them all.

As the “Last Post” was played by a cadet, Cam watched in his peripheral vision as Harmony fished a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. He was always moved by the “Last Post” too—the long first call, and the trill of the bugle running and then coming back to the mournful last notes.

John Harris, ninety-eight years old and a veteran of World War II, had tears streaming down his cheeks too, and Cam knew he was probably remembering his old friend Dougal, who’d died the year before. The two men had enlisted together, served together, and had been friends all through their lives.

After two minutes of silence the National Anthem was sung, then the crowd began to disperse and Cam took Harmony over to meet John Harris and his son Martin.

From then on it was a round of introductions, which seemed to last forever, before they could break away and head back to the office.

“Oh, my…” Harmony said, almost as though she were apologizing. “Those ceremonies get to me. My father’s family are almost all military, so they always strike home, but I think Grandie would have approved of this one. He liked a nice simple observance rather than a lot of pomp and circumstance.”

“I’m glad to hear you think he’d have approved,” Cam replied. “Was your father in the military too?”

Her lips pursed as she shook her head. “No. He had a congenital heart defect which made him ineligible. He tried to sign up, to follow in his father’s, uncles’ and cousins’ footsteps, but the army turned him away.”

“That must have been hard on him.”

Cam wondered why the subject of her father had made those lines come and go between her brows. But they were at the side door of the surgery now, and he opened it so she could step through.

“I guess so,” she replied, with a touch of frost in her voice. “But he made up for his disappointment.”

Before he could figure out what to say to that, she turned toward the staircase leading to her apartment.

“I’ll see you at a quarter to one,” she continued. “I promised the CIs I’d meet up with them for lunch and I want to change before you and I go on our tour.”

“Don’t let them talk you into doing anything you don’t want to. The Winter Festival gets crazy, and they’ve already been trying to get me to recruit you to help. I’ve been valiantly staving them off.”

She paused, her hand on the railing, one foot on the lower step, and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Why?”

Self-conscious under her golden perusal, he shrugged. “You just didn’t seem too keen whenever I mentioned the festival or Christmas.”

Her lips twisted briefly to the side, then softened into a rueful little frown. “Sorry,” she muttered, and then cleared her throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, it’s just… I’m a little low on Christmas spirit this year.”

It shouldn’t matter to him why. In fact, he should be glad of it, as it meant she’d be disinclined to get too involved, giving him time to get over this unwanted attraction. Yet his curiosity was stronger than any sense of self-preservation. Harmony didn’t seem the type to open up very often, so her showing him even a little chink in that practical armor was enticing.

“How come? Just too far from home?”

“That doesn’t bother me,” she said, but he heard uncertainty in the stout declaration.

Then she sighed, and turned back to face him.

“The truth is my gran died earlier this year, and Christmas was always a special time for us to celebrate together. It just won’t be the same without her and Mum.”

“Well, you have space here. You could ask your mum to come up and spend the holidays with you.”

The cheerful note he’d tried to infuse into his voice seemed to have the opposite effect to what he’d intended as she slowly shook her head.

“Mum’s finally getting a life of her own. Her new gentleman friend has invited her to Yorkshire to meet his family, so that’s a non-starter.” Drawing herself up to her full height and tipping up her chin, she continued, “But it’s fine.”

That should have been the end of it, but he knew all too well what she was going through—the loneliness that cloaked the soul after the loss of someone pivotal in your life. The feeling that nothing would ever be the same without them, and the unsure sensation of the world being off-kilter, perhaps never to right itself.

“I get it. Really I do,” he found himself saying. “Those firsts are always the hardest. When my grand-da died I didn’t feel like facing the holidays either.”

Harmony’s lips came together in what he’d previously thought of as her disapproving expression. But now he was left wondering what it really meant, considering the pain lingering in her eyes.

“You were close to your grandfather?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. Closer to him than to my parents. I lived with him for a couple of years, and I used to come here every holiday I could to be with him. Even when I got older, if it was reading week at university, you name it, I’d be on Eilean Rurie. It was only after I started working with the aid agency that I didn’t get back as often as I’d have liked.”

“My gran had lived with us since my dad died, when I was six,” she replied. Then, as though suddenly aware of what she was saying, she added, “I’m sorry. I don’t usually have a pity party in front of my boss. I think the ceremony this morning has made me a little emotional.”

“Don’t apologize, please. I don’t mind.”

Those big golden eyes, slightly misty with tears, drew him in…had him fighting not to step forward. She was all he could see. The world had shrunk to just the woman in front of him, so valiantly battling for complete composure.

Normally he shied away from too much emotion, never trusting it to be genuine. His mother had been a master of using feigned sadness or disappointment to manipulate—until she’d realized it no longer worked on him and had turned it off like a tap.

Harmony Kinkaid was just his temporary employee—a woman he’d known for a couple of days. Why, then, was the urge to comfort her so overwhelming?

His heart was suddenly hammering, and alarm bells were going off in his head, but he paid the warning no mind. Instead he stepped closer and rested his hand on her shoulder, rather than on her cheek the way he wanted to. Her lips were soft now, full and inviting.

Begging to be kissed.

Cam exerted a Herculean effort and dragged his gaze away from her mouth to focus once more on her face.

“I’m sorry you won’t be with your family this year, and that you’ve lost someone so important to you that it doesn’t even feel worthwhile celebrating, but it’ll be okay. You just wait and see.”

And his chest grew suddenly tight as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes again. When the first one slipped free, before he could give in to the urge to wipe it away, she turned and started up the stairs, leaving him staring after her, confusion his only companion.

Cam had been right about the CIs trying to corral Harmony into helping with the festival, but she’d told them she’d only just got to Eilean Rurie and really needed more time to find her feet. While they’d grumbled about it, by the time they’d left the pub Harmony thought they’d given up on the idea.

Crossing the green to the surgery, Harmony thought again about her earlier encounter with Cam. She’d been obsessively going over it, alternately ashamed of telling him anything and grateful for his sympathy. But what totally floored her was her visceral reaction to having him so close.

When he’d touched her shoulder she’d wanted to make the tiny movement that would have been necessary to get close enough to hug him. The simmering attraction she’d felt from the first moment she’d seen him had threatened to boil over. For an instant she’d thought he was going to make the first move…kiss her. She was almost sure his gaze had dropped to her mouth. The anticipation that had fired through her had been like an electric jolt, and just remembering it brought another shock of desire.

“Get a grip, Harmony,” she admonished herself out loud, letting herself into the building, her cheeks hot, her insides fluttering as if a wild bird had invaded her stomach. “He was just being kind.”

Besides, she hardly knew him. And he was her boss. And she was off men, to boot.

It was imperative that she got herself together and got real. She was here to do a job and that was all. Not to play Santa Claus, nor to make a fool of herself because she was feeling like Scrooge. And certainly, definitely, not to lust after her gorgeous daredevil boss, who had “heartbreaker” written all over him.

The CIs had been quick to tell her that Cam was single, and she’d been thoroughly grilled on her own status. She’d had no problem telling them about her break-up earlier in the year, although not in detail, since it had got them off the subject of Christmas.

She determinedly pushed all thoughts of her conversation with Cam aside, focusing on work instead. A quick look at the time told her she had just a few minutes to run upstairs and comb her hair before he arrived—if he was on time.

His rather laissez-faire attitude toward the way his practice was run would have made her think him a little scatterbrained if he hadn’t been so clearly intelligent. But he’d frowned when she’d rearranged the filing system, and given her a blank look when she’d asked why there were over four hundred records when there were less than two hundred and fifty people on the island.

And she was still wondering why they needed fifteen minutes to go just down the road.

He did turn up at the appointed time, and Harmony’s heart-rate picked up as she watched him from her bedroom window. He got out of his vehicle to open the gate before driving around to the front of the building. She made herself walk slowly down to join him, neither giving in to nor showing any of the silly eagerness bubbling inside her.

Outside, she found him leaning on the hood of his car, as handsome and relaxed as a magazine model. Clearly he wasn’t suffering from the same reaction she had, and she was determined to meet his cool with all the calm in the world.

Cam explained the extra fifteen minutes while they were walking over to the Jacobsons’ cottage.

“Hugh is in denial about the terminal aspect of his mother’s disease, and he has a tendency to want to speak for her, saying how well she’s doing rather than letting her tell me the truth. He’s also a bit of a fusspot when it comes to time. If I get there a little early he doesn’t have the tea ready yet, so I get a few minutes to talk to Delores alone and find out exactly how she is, and if there are any new developments. I keep the more clinical aspects, like taking her temperature and blood pressure, for when he’s in the room, so he feels as though he’s in the thick of it.”

It made sense, and she made a note of it for future reference. Hearing his logic also made her contemplate how different this job was going to be from her last. There everything had been regulated, and although they’d got the chance to get to know some of their patients quite well, the little personal touches like those Dr. MacRurie had just described had often been missed.

The visit went as predicted, with Hugh Jacobson greeting them at the door, rushing to the kitchen to make tea, and apologizing for it not being ready when they got there. The doctor winked conspiratorially at Harmony, making her silly stomach flutter, and he pushed open the door to the front room where his patient was.

Mrs. Jacobson was a quiet lady, who smiled when she saw Dr. MacRurie and Harmony and seemed to know the drill. Wasting no time on small-talk, she answered the doctor’s questions while her son was out of the room. But then, with a quick glance toward the open door, she grasped Cam’s wrist, stopping him midsentence.

“It won’t be long now, Cameron,” she said, in her soft brogue. “But I just want to make it through Hogmanay. I don’t want Hugh to be sad every Christmas because I died around the holiday.”

Tears stung the back of Harmony’s eyes, but Dr. MacRurie just patted Mrs. Jacobson’s shoulder and said, “We’ll do our best to see you through till then, Delores.”

“Good,” she replied, seeming to relax slightly in her chair. “I want to see the lights this year, even if I can’t get out to enjoy the festival.”

Harmony couldn’t tell this sweet lady that it wouldn’t matter to her son whether she made it through to the New Year or not. Her passing would hurt him whenever it happened, and he’d miss her every holiday thereafter.

Later, after they’d drunk tea with mother and son and were walking back to the vehicle, Cam said, “She didn’t know she had hemochromatosis until after the menopause, and it had already caused extensive liver damage. She’s not the complaining type, as you could see, and attributed the symptoms to simply aging. Hopefully we can keep her going the way she wants.”

No matter how unprofessional it was, Harmony didn’t feel able to discuss it just then. Not when seeing Mrs. Jacobson had brought all the pain of losing her gran rushing to the fore.

She made an noncommittal sound. Then quickly said, “I guess you weren’t putting me on when you said there’s a Winter Festival, although it’s hard to picture.” All she saw was a tiny village—nicer today, with the sun out, than it had been the last couple of days, but nothing special.

Cam opened the passenger door of his aged utility vehicle and Harmony tried not to wince at the metallic creak.

As she climbed in, he replied, “Wait and see. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

But she was still skeptical. After all, how fancy a show could the inhabitants of a tiny place like this put on?

CHAPTER SIX

CAM WALKED AROUND the front of the vehicle, glancing in at Harmony through the windshield. She was fussing with the seatbelt which, like most things in True Blue didn’t work as it should, and just a glimpse of her furrowed brow and pursed lips made him smile.

Cranking open the driver’s door, he levered himself into the seat just as she got the belt wrestled into submission. She was casually dressed, but the jeans, white shirt and red anorak did nothing to camouflage her lovely figure. Cam rather wished it did, so he wouldn’t find himself admiring it so much.

Firing up the engine, trying to ignore how good Harmony smelled, he dragged his thoughts back to business. “I forgot to ask, can you drive a manual?”

“Yes,” she said.

But just as he was coaxing the vehicle into gear and, and it ground its way into first, he glanced across and saw her concerned expression.

“My grandfather taught me, but although he always said if I could drive a stick shift in Jamaica I could drive anywhere, I don’t know if I can manage this beast.”

Cam chuckled. “No, I have an estate car for you to use. I’m the only one who drives True Blue. She’s very persnickety.”

“True Blue?”

There was no mistaking the laughter in her voice, and it made Cam’s grin widen. “She’s held together with baling wire and tape, but she’s never let me down anywhere I couldn’t walk home.”

The sound of her amusement filled the rattling, groaning vehicle and made Cam unaccountably happy. He realized he’d never heard her laugh that way before; not a giggle but full-on belly laughter.

What started as a quick glance at her had him staring, his gaze riveted on her face. Amusement had taken her from beautiful to stunningly gorgeous, and it was only the need to watch where he was driving that tore his attention away.

“You live on a very small island. I’m guessing you’d be able to walk home from just about anywhere—am I right?”

He cleared his throat, being careful not to look at her again. “Yes, but don’t tempt fate. We’re in this together now.”

That exchange seemed to set a good tone for the rest of the time they spent together. Harmony even relaxed slightly, so Cam asked about her grandfather, and heard the story of her grandmother travelling to England alone.

“She explained it by saying that Granddad had ‘small pond’ syndrome. He wasn’t happy with the thought of leaving a place where he was known and had a certain status to start over in a much larger pond, where he’d have to begin again at the bottom.”

Cam couldn’t really relate. As a child he’d lived in more countries than he had fingers, and before moving back to Eilean Rurie he had seen even more working for the aid agency, which had sent doctors to refugee camps and disaster zones all over the world.

Despite his desire for a stable home when he was young, if given the chance to start over somewhere new and exciting now, he’d probably take it. With his past experience, being tied to the island sometimes chafed.

Still trying to get a handle on her family, he said, “Oh, I thought at first perhaps it was your father’s father who taught you to drive?”

“No,” she said. “My dad was half English, half Scottish. No Jamaican roots.”

Something in her voice stopped him from asking anything more about her father, so he just said, “How often do you get to go to Jamaica to see your family?”

“I went most summers before I started nursing school. I haven’t been back in a while, though, and I should go soon. Granddad isn’t getting any younger, and now he’s my last grandparent left.”

“I hardly knew my mother’s parents, and my father’s mother died before I was born. I think it made the bond between Grand-Da and me all the stronger.”

“Did your mother’s parents live far away?”

Cam eased True Blue into neutral and brought her to a stop at a T-junction before he replied. “No. It was my parents who moved around all the time. My dad is an archeologist, my mother’s his archivist, and he loves working in the field—the more obscure and distant the dig, the better. The Middle East and Southeast Asia are his specialties.”

The peripatetic nature of his childhood was something he rarely, if ever, talked about, and he was glad to be able to divert Harmony.

“Okay, now, it might seem logical to think this road goes all the way around the island, but it doesn’t. If you continue along here you get to the Harris farm, and then to a dead end where we have a wind turbine installed. So you need to remember to take the turn here, rather than go straight.”

Fighting the wretched gearbox, he made it back into first and turned the corner to continue circling the island. Since he’d introduced her to most of the people she’d be seeing on her rounds, he decided to simply give her the tour and then take her back home.

The less time they spent together, the better.

They crested a slight rise in the rolling terrain and the sea came into sight in the distance.

“Oh! How lovely!” Harmony said suddenly. “Can we stop for a second? I promised Mum I’d take pictures, and I’d forgotten up until now.”

It was a glorious day, although chilly, with a cloudless sky, and he found her reaction to the vista charming. For all his wanderlust, to Cam, Eilean Rurie was the most beautiful place in the world, and he loved to see others appreciate it, as well.

As he brought the vehicle to a halt she fished her phone from her bag and then hopped out. Cam followed, noticing the way the breeze caught her curls and made them bounce.

She started snapping pictures. “I told Mum about the ferry ride, and she asked then if I’d remembered to take any pictures. I felt pretty silly telling her I hadn’t.”

“Your mum’s okay with you being so far away?”

Harmony shrugged lightly. “I don’t think she was happy with the idea, but she knew I needed a job, so now she’s taking it in her stride, I think. I’ve been keeping her updated all along the way, and I got a chance to talk to her this morning before her shift. She’s sent my other suitcase already, or I’d have asked her to put in a pair of wellies.”

“I have a pair for you. At the Manor.”

Her lips twitched. They didn’t purse, just twitched.

“Did you forget them?”

“No,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, not sure whether to be annoyed at her implication. “I washed them off and left them out to dry. We’re going to drive right past the front entrance to the Manor anyway, so we’ll stop and you can get them.”

Her eyes were shining when she turned toward him, and heat radiated up his spine as she smiled.

“Oh! Can I take a look inside? I’m so curious about what it’s like.”

“Sure,” he said, then had to clear his tight throat and get a grip on himself. What was it about her smile that made his entire system go into overdrive? “But we don’t start opening up most of the bedrooms until later this week.”

Harmony blinked at him, her eyebrows dipping briefly before she turned back to take another picture. He played back his words in his head, trying to figure out her reaction, and then suppressed a groan.

Had he really just mentioned bedrooms, as though they were what she should see? And now that he’d realized the connotations he could picture her in bed—all smooth golden-syrup-and-cinnamon skin and luscious curves, those wild curls spread across his pillow. Somehow, though he didn’t know how or why, he knew her eyes would be greener then, inviting him close, and closer yet…

His reaction to the image was visceral: a shock of heat along his spine, lust turning his blood to lava.

She still had her back to him, had made no reply, and he dragged himself from his fantasy to rush into speech, trying to salvage the conversation and his sanity.

“We only keep part of the hotel open for most of the year, since we just get dribs and drabs of visitors. But next week the entire place will be opened up and aired, and the decorating started, so you’ll get a chance to see all of it.”

“Okay.”

That was all she said, leaving him wondering if he’d gotten himself out of the suggestive hole he’d unthinkingly dug.

Harmony took a deep, silent breath, pretending total concentration on her phone, all the while trying to shake her imagined visual of Cam in bed.

Naked.

Aroused.

Making love to her.

Those chiseled lips on hers…his large, capable hands all over her body.

She was blushing. The heat caused by an intense rush of arousal had traveled from her chest into her face. So she kept her back turned to him, trying to get herself under control.

What on earth was wrong with her? She’d met handsome men before, even dated a couple, but none had affected her the way Dr. Cam MacRurie did.

Finally she got herself centered, and although her cheeks still felt warm, she thought she’d dare to turn around.

“I’ve got enough pictures,” she said, trying not to look at him. “Shall we…?”

They got back into the vehicle and he ground it into first.

“True Blue sounds like her gearbox and clutch need some help,” she commented, just to break the silence, which was weighing on her and giving her too much time to think.

“We only have a few cars on the island, since a lot of people use bicycles or scooters, so our mechanic went off to look for greener pastures. I’d have to take her over to the mainland on the car ferry to get her looked at. She’s sounded like this forever, so I’m not too worried.”

They drove through a cut in the low hills—a twisty road, with rough autumn-colored moorland punctuated by the occasional gnarled tree or low copse on each side. In the distance the hills rose, dark stone stark against the heather and grass. It was, Harmony thought, beautiful in a stern, unflinching way.

“Do you get much snow here?”

“Not really—the occasional heavy fall but usually just a light coating. Our location is pretty sheltered, and because the hills aren’t very high storms tend to pass over us quickly.”

Just then they crested a hill and there below was a small settlement and the sea again beyond. The afternoon light was wonderful, and the sun, which would set about four o’clock, hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the whitewashed buildings.

“Our fishing village,” Cam said as Harmony leaned forward to see better. “My great-grandfather moved it here after a storm destroyed the old fishing village a little way down the coast. The entire spit of land gave way, and over the years the sea has eaten most of it up. You can still see the old buildings and what remains of the rescue station when the tide is low.”

She risked a glance at him, but when heat threatened to overtake her again, looked away.

“How long has your family lived here?” she asked.

“Almost two hundred years,” he said, and she couldn’t help smiling at his obvious pride. “In 1853 my three-times great-grandfather won the island in a game of whist.”

“A game of what?”

“Whist. It’s a card game. The story is that the island’s owner at the time was a bit of a wastrel. He lost a lot of money to my ancestor, and paid with the land. Charles MacRurie took the island, which was sparsely populated at the time because it was only used as a summer retreat and hunting lodge, and turned it into his private fiefdom.”

“Clearly he wasn’t the humble type, since he named it after himself.”

Cam chuckled. “From all accounts he was not. At all.”

They continued around the coast, with Cam pausing every now and then for her to take pictures, and Harmony keeping the conversation away from the personal and on the island and work.

She was amazed to hear there was an alpaca farm, which produced hand-spun wool, an artists’ collective, and a pottery with a world-famous potter. Somehow it had never occurred to her that so small a place would have such an interesting and diverse set of artisans.

When Cam pointed out her patients’ homes, and the side roads she’d need to take to get to them, she was able to ask informed questions, since she’d already read all their files. Cam slanted her a raised-eyebrow glance, but didn’t comment beyond answering her.

As the gates of Rurie Manor came into sight he said, “The road continues on past Eigg Point, and then goes back to town, but we’ll take the back road when you’re finished looking around the Manor.”

Call it cowardice, or the effect of the heat she could already feel building in her belly and snaking out to fill her chest, but Harmony had changed her mind.

“Why don’t I wait until everything is decorated?” she asked. “I’m due to check on Hillary Carstairs tomorrow, aren’t I? So I’ll take the car and drive myself back to the surgery. It’ll give me a chance to read her file more thoroughly and do any research I need to.”

“Sure, if you’d like,” Cam replied, giving her a look which she avoided, quite sure her cheeks were red again. “But it wouldn’t be a problem for you to come in now.”

She firmly refused, even though close up the Manor was so beautiful she itched to get inside and see it for herself.

Instead she put deeds to words, collecting her borrowed Wellingtons and then hightailing it out of Cameron MacRurie’s vicinity as fast as possible.

CHAPTER SEVEN

HARMONY WOKE UP to an almighty roar and clatter, which got louder and then seemed to be coming into the surgery itself. They were back to their usual nine o’clock opening schedule, and normally she would have been awake long before seven, but she’d hardly slept and had hit the snooze button a few times.

“What on earth…?”

The noise was coming around the corner of the building, and she could swear that everything in the place, including her teeth, was rattling.

Kneeling on the bed, she pulled back the curtain and saw, in the gray morning light, two large lorries and a caravan going past. As she watched someone jumped out of the first truck to open the gate leading to the Manor and the cavalcade drove through. It was only when the trucks were going up the path that she realized there were a couple of SUVs following behind, as well.

She watched until the last vehicle was through, and the gate was closed behind them, before letting the curtains swing shut again. Reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp, now wide awake, she wondered what was going on. More vehicles than she’d seen on the entire island had just passed her window.

Sliding out of bed, she reached for her bathrobe, resigned to getting an early start on the day, although she’d planned to spend another half an hour in bed. Mum was working afternoons, starting yesterday, so there was no early-morning prework call to look forward to, and no good reason to be up earlier than necessary.

Not that she could talk to her mother about the main thing on her mind—Dr. Cam MacRurie, who’d cost her sleep and had her mind and body in a tailspin. While her mother was no prude, Harmony knew the fact that her daughter seemed to be going ga-ga over a man she’d literally just met wouldn’t sit well with Delilah Kinkaid.

Heck, it didn’t sit well with Harmony either, but she couldn’t get the darn man out of her head.

Tossing and turning half the night, thinking about Cam, had left her frustrated and testy, wishing she could stay in the apartment all day and not have to face him. However, there were tasks that needed to be done in the surgery, and despite Cam telling her there was no rush she preferred to be ahead of the game, rather than stressing when a deadline loomed and she was unprepared.

Having showered and had some oatmeal, she went downstairs to the surgery and was surprised to see, through the front window, a crowd of people on the village green.

Going closer, to look out through the glass, she realized there was more than just people. There were a couple of pieces of what appeared to be farm equipment, some open-back vans, and lots of ladders, loaded pallets, coils of rope and large wooden boxes.

Harmony blinked a few times, trying to figure out if she was seeing things. There were only two hundred and fifty people on the island, give or take, and it appeared that all of them, probably plus a few more, were milling about on the green.

“What are they…?”

She almost had her nose pressed to the glass, trying to see what was happening. In the midst of it all was a figure in a Santa hat she was almost sure was Dora, who was gesticulating this way and that like a conductor on a podium.

Another figure broke from the group and came toward the surgery, and Harmony hurriedly scooted back to her desk.

She’d met the man in the pub—Broderick Thompson—and wasn’t sure she liked him very much. He was a smooth talker, a little too full of himself for her liking, and his light gray eyes had seemed to be undressing her rather than holding her gaze.

Hopefully he wasn’t on his way to the surgery, but if he was she’d rather present an air of professionalism rather than be caught gawking out of the window.

Sure enough, the door to the entryway opened a few seconds later, and the man who was the gallery owner came in, sleek smile in place, sandy blond hair ruffled by the wind, exposing his scalp.

“Harmony, beautiful lady! I saw the lights come on and came over to ask if you’d be joining us.”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Thompson,” she replied, not returning his smile. “I have work to do.”

His eyes took a break away from crawling all over her chest to glance around the empty waiting room. When he looked back at her his eyebrows were raised in exaggerated surprise.

“I can see how busy you are. So busy that I guess you wouldn’t have time for a coffee with me? But I know the surgery doesn’t officially open until nine, and Lalli’s has opened early for the workers, so I’m sure you can spare a few minutes.”

“No, I actually don’t have the time.”

She made no effort to soften the refusal, and she thought his eyes hardened, although his smile stayed in place. Unfortunately, instead of leaving, as she’d hoped, he actually had the temerity to come over and plunk his skinny bum on the corner of her desk.

“Come on, now. All work and no play makes for a less than harmonious life.”

Harmony just barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at his heavy-handed banter. “I really have to get on with my job, Mr. Thompson. Was there anything else you wanted?”

He leaned forward, almost in her space, but Harmony held her ground, clenching her teeth as his gaze dropped to the front of her shirt again.

“Well…”

He let the word trail off suggestively, and Harmony narrowed her eyes. If this twit thought she was going to put up with any of his nonsense let him try her! She was ready.

“Broderick. Not lending a hand outside?”

Cam had come in through the back so quietly neither of them heard him. Harmony jumped with surprise, and when a wave of embarrassed heat rose in her chest she berated herself for it.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Broderick Thompson got up and stretched. “Just came in for the First Aid kit. Dora sent me.”

Lying creep, Harmony thought, furious enough to want to smack him over the head with the kit once she’d fetched it from the store room. Instead she placed it on the desk, doing her best not to glare.

He picked it up, and gave her another of his smarmy smiles.

“So, what time for coffee later?”

Behind her she heard Cam’s office door open, but his footsteps stopped. She knew he was listening, and the thought of him believing she’d go out with Broderick Thompson made her more curt than perhaps she should be.

“I already told you no, Mr. Thompson, and I tried to be polite about it too. If you’d prefer I be rude, ask again.”

Broderick’s cheeks reddened, but to his credit he just shook his head as he picked up the kit and said, “Can’t blame a chap for trying. See you both later.”

She restrained the urge to make a rude noise as the door closed behind her, but it was hard not to kiss her teeth. Very aware of Cam, still standing by his door, she reached for the supply list on her desk, intent getting on with the audit she’d put at the top of her day’s to-do list. He’d explained that he usually put in a big order for a number of medical necessities just before the festival, in case they were needed, but much of it lasted the rest of the year.

“Whoa,” he said, and the amusement in his voice made her want to blush all over again. “Remind me not to rile you up.”

With her nose in the air she swept past him, on her way to the medical stores.

“I think it’s be almost inevitable that you will at some point,” she retorted, before she could stop herself.

The sound of his laughter smoothed the last of her ruffled feathers and she found herself smiling too as she set to work.

Cam was still chuckling to himself as he sat at his desk to switch on his computer.

Originally he’d come down to see if the noise of the arriving equipment had woken Harmony, and to tell her to take part of the afternoon off since she’d started so early. He truly loved this time of year, despite the stress of putting on the festival, but his excitement had shriveled on finding Broderick Thompson leaning close to Harmony, as though about to kiss her.

Her guilty start when he’d spoken had made the rest of his good humor flee, but hearing her give the other man that set-down had restored it. Clearly she had the good sense to see through that Lothario.

Even though Broderick ran a profitable business at the gallery, somehow acquiring really good artwork and having successful yearly exhibitions, he was a bit of a menace otherwise. The women on the island who had known him longest had learned of his wandering eyes over time, but to him every new arrival was fair game.

Cam wasn’t surprised he’d tried it on with Harmony, but her clear and cutting refusal had been a thing of beauty.

Would she do the same to him, should he try to kiss her?

He realized he wanted to—badly. Every movement of her lips, whether they were smiling, pursed, or speaking, made him want to taste them.

And he wanted to know what she’d feel like in his arms. Those amazing curves snuggled against him, her arms around his neck, his mouth on that long, lovely throat.

Or anywhere else on her body she’d let him get at.

Arousal hit him, heating his blood. Shifting in his seat, he tried to banish the vision of a naked Harmony from his mind, so as to not cause himself any more discomfort. For goodness’ sakes—what was he? Fifteen? Getting turned on just daydreaming over a woman he hardly knew?

Mind you, Harmony would make any red-blooded man think dirty thoughts.

And she made him completely forget what he was supposed to be doing—like actually turning on his computer instead of starting blindly at the still blank screen.

Hitting the switch, he waited for the machine to boot up.

The physical attraction would be so much easier to quell if he didn’t actually like her so much. Yes, she was fussy, and bossy, and on a couple of occasions she had reminded him of why he preferred a single life by giving him one of those “oh, really?” glances that activated his stubborn independent streak. But none of that negated his very real desire to get to know her better.

Much better.

Intimately, even.

She was his employee, though. Temporary, but on his payroll nonetheless. Professionalism dictated that he not get involved with her, no matter how short a time she was supposed to be on the island. Besides, there was an innate danger in getting too close to a woman like Harmony, even for a little while. She had the kind of forever vibe he assiduously avoided.

He might be an adrenaline junkie, but forever was one heart-stopping trip he didn’t want to go on. Not when it would mean changing the life he enjoyed so much, and having someone else to consider every time he wanted to make a decision.

His childhood, stunted by his mother’s fear over his diabetes and his own need to allay her panic, had made him recognize his need to be free of those types of entanglements. Even now, when he was speaking to his mother on the phone, he omitted telling her too much, knowing she’d be frightened to hear about his adventures. That was about enough of an emotional burden as he could manage.

The computer beeped, the cursor flashed, waiting for him to put in his password. Doing so absently, Cam found himself remembering Harmony’s sadness when she’d spoken about how much she missed her grandmother.

He understood, completely. The first Christmas after Grand-Da died had been the hardest of Cam’s life. Only the fellowship of the islanders, who missed the old man as much as Cam did, had eased the pain. It was a shame Harmony and her mother wouldn’t be together to remember the old lady and all the good times the three had shared.

Then he frowned as the first notification to pop up on his screen was an email from Dora entitled To-Do List.

“Really?” he muttered to himself. “Don’t you think that after four years I know what needs to be done?”

Yet still he opened it, and sat running through the various points until the phone rang.

Since Harmony was in the back, he called out, “I’ve got it!” and picked up the receiver.

“Cam MacRurie speaking.”

“Cam? Are you coming by today?”

“Hello, Hillary,” he said, noting the strain in the woman’s voice. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I just wondered…”

“My new nurse, Harmony, is scheduled to come out and see you, Hill,” he said gently. “Will that be okay with you?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied, and the automatic answer told him more than her words. “It’s just that I don’t know her. How will I know it’s her? And I haven’t had a chance to tidy up…”

“Don’t worry about it, Hill. I’ll come out with her and introduce her properly. That way next time you’ll know who it is. Will that suit?”

“I… I…”

She faltered, and Cam waited, guessing she was trying to gather her thoughts.

“So you’ll come, then?”

“Yes, Hill. I will.” He infused as much of a soothing tone into his voice as he could. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Thank you.” The relief in her voice was patent. “Thank you, Cam.”

After he’d hung up the phone, Harmony, who’d come to the door, asked, “Her anxiety getting the best of her?”

Cam nodded, pleased that she’d picked up on that from the file. Hillary Carstairs had been born with spina bifida, yet had lived life to the fullest, getting around with leg braces and a cane until her later years. She had two children, one of whom still lived at home and helped his father on the farm.

Now confined to a wheelchair, Hill had developed agoraphobia and an anxiety disorder, which made her increasingly isolated. He’d prescribed antianxiety medication, which she’d refused to take, and offered to refer her to a specialist, but again she’d refused—perhaps because of having to go to the mainland for appointments.

It was at times like this when Cam felt the restrictive nature of the island keenly, and chafed at not being able to provide what was necessary.

“I’ll ride out with you,” he said to Harmony. “It’ll allay some of her stress, and hopefully she’ll be okay with you coming alone the next time.”

“Okay, but it seems a shame to interrupt your day that way. No doubt you have scads of stuff to do.”

Cam happily closed the email from Dora and grinned. “It’s not an issue. Hill’s health is the most important.”

Besides, Hillary and Gavin’s farm was in one of his favorite parts of the island, and showing it to Harmony suddenly seemed like a great idea. In fact, there was nothing he’d like more—although why that was wasn’t something he wanted to think about too deeply.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE CARSTAIRS’ FARMHOUSE was filled with the evidence of Hillary’s weaving business, although Harmony had seen no sign of the alpacas when they drove up, which was disappointing.

Hillary Carstairs was stressed and apologetic, but Harmony was adept at handling patients with anxiety disorders, and had her calmed down in a fairly short time. Hillary even agreed to allow Harmony to do her examination and change her catheter.

“Everything looks good,” Harmony told the older lady as she helped her back into her wheelchair. “But I see from your chart that you’ve refused treatment for your anxiety disorder and agoraphobia. May I ask why?”

Hillary’s eyes shifted away and she knotted her fingers together. For a moment Harmony thought she didn’t intend to answer. When she finally spoke there was an air of surrender in the words.

“I’ve been poked and prodded and I’ve taken medication my entire life. Why would I add even more? Besides, going anywhere in this contraption takes so much effort. It’s not fair to Gav.”

Harmony tweaked the ends of Hillary’s skirt so it lay flat, thinking through her answer before saying, “You realize what an anomaly you are, right?”

Hillary frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve lived to be in your sixties with spina bifida. Had two children and a full life. It’s only in the last few decades that spina bifida has been considered something other than a childhood disorder, since people diagnosed with it weren’t expected to live very long. Why give up now?”

Hillary shrugged, but she was obviously listening, her gaze steady on Harmony’s face, so she continued speaking.

“You already have some limitations placed on you by your disorder. Why not deal with what you can, so you can continue enjoying your life to its fullest?”

There was no reply, but as Harmony packed up her kit she left it at that, hoping she’d given her patient some food for thought.

They left the bedroom and found Cam and Gavin, Hillary’s husband, in the large farmhouse kitchen, leaning on the counter, sipping from teacups.

Gavin was a short, stocky redhead with an infectious grin, who asked, “All right, then, love?”

“Yes,” Hillary said, smiling back at him. “Everything is fine.”

But Harmony found herself the recipient of a piercing interrogatory glance from Gavin, who only visibly relaxed when Harmony nodded her agreement.

“Good, good… Want a cup of tea, ladies?”

At their affirmative responses he set about pouring cups for them from the pot, while a black-and-white collie came over to say hello to Harmony. She bent to pet it, getting a lovely cold nose in her neck and a couple of licks before the dog slunk off in typical collie style to flop down on a cushion in front of the fireplace.

Gavin said, “I was just telling Cam that I’ve moved the flock up to the old croft, which is why they weren’t hanging over the fence watching to see who was arriving.”

“They’re a nosy lot,” Hillary said. “I miss seeing them when I look out the window.”

“I was hoping to get a glimpse of them when we arrived,” Harmony said, adding a murmur of thanks as she took the cup from Gavin.

“Cam can take you up to get a look,” he replied, turning to Cam as he continued. “Take the four-wheeler.”

“I will,” said Cam.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Harmony said, at the same time.

Cam laughed. “I think it’s a grand idea. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to show her Ada Tor.”

“Go right ahead,” Gavin replied, resting his hand on his wife’s shoulder as he passed. “I don’t need the UTV again until later this evening.”

Everyone else looked pleased as punch at this idea, and Harmony realized she’d look churlish and ungrateful by refusing, so she plastered a smile on her face. But she wondered what kind of vehicle it was they’d be taking, what kind of terrain they’d be traversing, and if any of this was safe.

She got her answer after they’d finished their tea. While she stowed her bag in True Blue, Cam and Gavin went into the barn. After a short time there was the clatter of an engine, which sounded like a large lawn mower, and a small four-wheeled vehicle came stuttering out. It had two seats, a flatbed in the back, no doors, and it bumped across the farmyard as though it had a complete lack of shocks.

Filled with trepidation, she cautiously approached as Cam brought it to a halt nearby.

At least it probably couldn’t go very fast, she thought as she got in.

But with the way Cam drove it over the rutted tracks it might as well have been a race car. Even terrified half out of her wits, and hanging on for dear life, Harmony had to admit he handled the little vehicle well, with the kind of casual capability she couldn’t help but admire.

When they got to a gate she got out rather shakily to open it, and then closed it behind the UTV once he’d driven it through.

“All right, there?” he asked with a grin as she got back in, before setting off again after her curt nod.

The land undulated, but Harmony got the sense they were going more uphill than down—a supposition that was proved as they went around a rise and she looked back to see the farmhouse below them. Ahead in the distance was a stone building, and even farther away what looked like a jumble of boulders all piled up together.

At the sound of the UTV, the alpacas came moseying out, and Harmony couldn’t stop her little squeak of pleasure on seeing their cute, curious faces. Cam brought the vehicle to a halt and Harmony got out for a closer look.

The alpacas kept their distance, with the one in the front eyeing her suspiciously. As she got closer to the fence it huffed, and she stopped.

Cam came up beside her and pointed. “That’s Sandro—the male. He’s pretty protective of his flock. Not much of a spitter, according to Gav, but I wouldn’t chance going much closer when his ears are flat like that.”

“I was hoping to pet one,” Harmony replied. “They look so soft…”

“Got their winter coats on,” he replied, and she saw him looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “You really like animals, don’t you?”

“I do. Gran had a little scruffy dog for years, and he and I were best buds. She didn’t want to get another after Hobo died, and I was so busy I didn’t think I’d have enough time to care for an animal myself, but recently I’ve really been thinking about getting a pet soon.” It was her turn to look at him, now, wanting to see what his expression told her as she asked, “Don’t you like animals?”

“Love them,” he said, which came as no surprise to her, really. He seemed the type.

“So how come you don’t have a dog or three?”

Cam shook his head. “Maybe one day I will, but right now a pet would tie me down too much. Every time I want to go away I’d have to find someone to look after it.”

Unable to decide whether that was a smart or a selfish way to be, Harmony made no comment. Instead she made soft, hopefully enticing sounds to the alpacas, trying to coax them closer, but they weren’t interested and, after a short time, they turned and started back toward the building.

“That was where Gavin’s parents lived,” Cam said. “He and his four siblings were born and grew up in that crofter’s cottage. Gav built the farmhouse for himself and Hillary when they married, and after his parents had passed away, and none of the children wanted to come back here to live, he converted it into a supplementary barn.”

“Wow. Seven people in that little building? Must have been cramped,” he said as they were heading back to the vehicle.

“I think they were used to it,” he said, as they got back in. “And they spent enough time outdoors to make it doable. They all had to help on the farm when they weren’t at school, and with sheep—which is all Gav’s father had back then—there’s always something needs doing.”

Further conversation was curtailed by the racket of the motor starting up. Then they were off again, heading for the up-thrust of boulders, which she discovered was far larger and higher than she’d first thought.

Cam left the path and bumped across the field, straight for it. Harmony was hanging on, wanting to tell him to slow down but finding the words caught in her throat. He finally slowed, then stopped within a couple of yards of the rocks. When he turned off the vehicle the sudden silence rang in her ears.

There was a wild, stark beauty to the landscape: gray rocks interspersed with autumn-colored ground cover and a few bare-limbed trees. In the sky a raptor of some type circled, and the whisper of the wind was the only sound. When Cam spoke it was in a low tone, as though he didn’t want to break the spell of quietude.

“Come on. Let me show you the best view in all Eilean Rurie.”

They got out, and Harmony followed Cam to the boulders. But when he started to climb she hung back, shaking her head.

“I’m not going up there,” she said, trying not to show her instinctive fear. “I don’t know how to climb.”

Looking back at her, he said, “This isn’t climbing, really. Just a little scramble. It’s perfectly safe, and if you’re not feeling confident go ahead of me and I’ll guide you.”

Oh, how she regretted not wearing the Wellington boots, which would have given her a solid reason not even to attempt the climb. But she’d worn her trainers instead, and with Cam’s eager expression and outstretched hand she was completely torn.

Anything to do with climbing—even what he called a scramble up some boulders—filled her with terror.

“Scared?” he asked, his eyebrows going up. “Are you afraid of heights?”

Was there a condescending note in his question? Whether there was or wasn’t, it got Harmony’s dander up and she lifted her chin.

“No, I’m not,” she said, gathering her courage and stepping up on the first rock. “Lead the way.”

Cam climbed with the ease of familiarity, but made sure to look back often and make sure Harmony wasn’t having any difficulties.

They didn’t talk, except when he warned her of a longer step, or a spot where there was a crack to watch out for. She was obviously inexperienced, hesitating in places, searching for a good hand or foothold in areas where, to him, it was obvious. But he had to admit she was game, and she grew even higher in his estimation.

He’d been sure she’d refuse to go to the top of Ada Tor. In fact, he would swear she’d been petrified when he’d suggested it. Yet here she was, more than halfway to the top, soldiering on. Hard not to admire her grit.

When he got to the top he reached back to help her up the last little bit, but she ignored his hand and scrambled up by herself. As she stood beside him, dusting her hands off on her jeans, he watched her look around, and he saw the dawning pleasure on her face at the vista laid out before her.

The land fell away in dips and swirls, the contours and colors reminding him of a Van Gogh painting, and in the distance lay the sea, a smooth blue expanse so far away. Just visible to the southeast were the roofs of the town, and to the west the little crescent of buildings making up the fishing village. Sheep and a few horses dotted the fields, but it was the quality of the air and the perfect height of the sun that really brought out the island’s splendor.

“How lovely…” she breathed, turning to look back toward where the mainland was just a smudge on the horizon above the trees along the northern coast.

“I told you it was the best view,” he said, and found himself taking in the familiar sight and appreciating it even more than usual. Something in her awestruck expression made him see it through fresh eyes.

“Is this rock formation natural?” she asked, still turning slowly to see everything all over again.

“I think it is,” he replied. “Although there isn’t another like it on the island. Legend has it that there’s a Celtic princess buried under it, but I don’t think it’s true.”

“Hence the name Ada Tor?”

“Yes.”

He sat down on a handy rock, still gazing out. After a moment she joined him, and he shuffled over to give her more room. Her fresh, sweet scent wafted over him and stirred something deep inside.

In the distance a truck rumbled along the road, and she pointed to it briefly. “I can’t get used to seeing so many vehicles here all of a sudden. It’s surprising after hardly seeing any at all.”

“They’re probably delivering Christmas trees to Angus’s farm. He always gets his early because he has so much work to do. The rest will come later in the week.”

Harmony sighed quietly, and he somehow knew she was thinking of her family and all she’d miss this year.

“Will you tell me what you used to do with your gran and your mum for Christmas? I’m curious to know about some of your customs.”

She gave him a sideways glance, before staring out at where the truck had disappeared into a dip in the land.

“It wasn’t much different from other English families, I guess,” she said, but then proceeded to prove herself wrong.

It was as if a dam had broken, and Cam could only listen as she listed all the things she’d be missing this year. There were things he’d never heard of—what on earth was a gizzada, or jonkanoo?—but other things he completely understood. Lots of poinsettias, since they were such a popular tradition in the Caribbean. Watching favorite movies, listening to beloved songs. Decorating the tree together and inviting everyone they knew to come by to exchange gifts and have drinks.

It wasn’t so different from what happened here, he thought as she fell silent. Some different cultural traditions, of course, but the picture she painted of family and friends, of a community sharing laughter and joy, labor and company, was the same.

Without thought he looped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. When she stiffened he almost let his arm drop, but then she turned her face to look at him and he froze, captivated and enticed by her solemn eyes, her soft lips.

The wind had died, and their faces were so close together her breath rushed warm across his mouth. Cam inhaled, wanting to take it into his lungs, hold on to it just for a moment.

Want spiked through his veins, so strong it wrapped around his chest, making it tight. It was there in her eyes too, he thought, the same anticipation and curiosity that was heating him through.

Then she blinked, color flooding her cheeks with a rose-toned blush, and Cam finally heeded the danger signs flashing in his head as they pulled away simultaneously.

The sensation of having her warm, soft body against his side lingered, though, reminding him of what was so close and yet should be ignored.

He cleared his throat, searching for a memory of what they’d been talking about so as to bring them back from the sensual ledge they’d stepped out on. “Christmas at your house sounds wonderful. I’m sorry you won’t have that this year.”

She turned her face away from his, but not before he saw that her eyes were misty.

“I just have to accept it’ll never be that way again,” she said quietly, a little quaver in her voice. Abruptly she rose and turned back toward where they’d climbed up. “Let’s get down now. I have work to do.”

He followed her lead without comment, but inside he was wondering what, if anything he could do to make the season ahead better for her.

Despite knowing it was ridiculous, his heart had ached on hearing her pour out her pain. And he certainly shouldn’t want to hold her, comfort her, kiss her the way he was drawn to do.

Yet that was exactly how he felt.

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