The Stranger's Secret. Maggie Kingsley

believe her if she said he’d simply been smelling Greensay’s fresh sea breezes.

      ‘I…I didn’t want to offend you when you’d obviously gone to so much trouble—’

      ‘You don’t like my cooking?’

      ‘No—I mean, yes, it was fine, great,’ she floundered. ‘I just felt a little queasy at lunchtime. Probably a side effect from the anaesthetic Will gave me last night.’

      His eyes narrowed, and she could almost see his professional instincts working as he stared at the bruise on her forehead. ‘And do you feel sick now—headachy, dizzy?’

      ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’

      ‘Then you’ll eat,’ he said firmly.

      And she did, though he very much doubted whether she knew what she was eating.

      Hell, but she looked awful. Half-asleep on her feet, her face chalk white with fatigue and pain. She couldn’t go on like this, and somehow he had to make her see it.

      ‘Jess.’

      He’d spoken softly but her eyes flew open at once. ‘I’m not asleep. Just resting my eyes.’

      ‘Resting them, be damned. Jess, this arrangement we’ve got—it isn’t working.’

      ‘Of course it’s working,’ she exclaimed, panic plain on her face. ‘OK, so maybe we need to iron out one or two creases—’

      ‘You’re going to kill yourself if you go on like this,’ he said bluntly. ‘You’re not taking your painkillers—’

      ‘I am!’ she protested. ‘Just because you haven’t seen me—’

      ‘Jess, I know exactly how many you’ve taken,’ he interrupted, pulling her bottle of pills out of his pocket and waving them under her nose. ‘Two, that’s all, and you took those last night.’

      She bit her lip. ‘I can’t take too many—you know I can’t. They fuddle your brains, make you sleepy.’

      ‘Jess—’

      ‘I know what you’re going to say—that I should close the surgery until I can get a locum—but the agency can’t get me anyone for five weeks—’

      ‘Five weeks!’ he repeated in horror, and she groaned inwardly.

      She’d meant to break the news to him gently, not spring it on him like this, but it was too late now.

      ‘It’s an awful lot longer than I expected, too,’ she said, ‘but I can’t—and won’t—ask my patients to travel to the mainland, so I have to keep on working—can’t you see that?’

      He could, and the trouble was he could also see an obvious solution to her problem, but it was a solution he didn’t want to suggest. A year ago he’d vowed never to set foot in any medical establishment again unless he was a patient. Hell, that was why he’d come to Greensay, for anonymity, and yet…

      Look at her, his mind urged. Hell, the girl’s in pain. It’s your fault, and if you can do even a little to help, you have to.

      He cleared his throat, knowing he was undoubtedly going to regret what he was about to say, but seeing no other alternative.

      ‘Jess, I can’t offer to do your home visits and night calls—I wouldn’t feel comfortable, not knowing any of your patients’ medical histories—but would it help if I shared your surgeries until your locum arrives?’

      She stared at him in amazement. Would it help? It was an offer to die for.

      ‘I—I don’t know what to say,’ she stammered.

      ‘How about “Yes, please, Ezra” and “Thank you?”’ he replied, forcing a smile to his lips.

      ‘Yes, for sure, but a mere thank you…’ She shook her head. ‘Ezra, I know this isn’t how you planned on spending your holiday. You probably came here to paint, or to write, or something.’ She paused, giving him the chance to explain, but he didn’t. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is how very grateful I am, and…’ To her dismay tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away quickly. ‘I’ll be forever in your debt.’

      Ezra groaned inwardly as he saw the tears. Jess was a spunky, stroppy, irritating lady, and the last thing he wanted was to see she could be vulnerable, too.

      Vulnerable meant him noticing how soft and husky her voice became when she was deeply moved. Vulnerable meant him seeing the way her green eyes darkened, throwing the whiteness and translucency of her skin into sharp relief. And he didn’t want to see these things. Seeing them meant he was in danger of forgetting why he was here, and that the last thing he needed in his life was a relationship.

      ‘You ought to be in bed,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re almost asleep on your feet.’

      ‘Does this mean you’ll be moving back to your own cottage?’

      His heart lifted at the prospect, only to plummet down again as he thought it through. ‘I can’t. You’re obviously not fit enough yet to be left on your own. No, don’t try to argue with me, Jess,’ he continued as she opened her mouth to do just that. ‘If I say you’re not fit, you’re not fit. Just accept that you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.’

      And he was stuck, too, he realised when she smiled up at him—a small, wobbly smile which touched him more than he could say. Stuck with a job he didn’t want, in the company of a girl who somehow seemed to be unaccountably growing more and more attractive by the hour.

      He groaned inwardly again.