Cameron left the engine running and walked back towards Meagan. Seeing her furiously trying to wipe some of the dirt off her suit, he laughed out loud.
‘Good God—did I do that? I’m really sorry. Here, can I help?’ He offered, taking a hankie from his jeans pocket. Gently tilting her chin with his fingertips, he wiped some of the mud from her face.
Meagan found herself yet again staring into his eyes, feeling even more foolish and totally off kilter. She could feel his breath on her face and the masculine scent of his strong, lean body as he stood close to her. Once again she felt a sharp tug of sheer unadulterated lust. Damn the man. Incredibly, after all these years he still had the ability to make her feel weak at the knees. Clearly the fright had awakened some dormant hormones she had been suppressing, she thought wryly. That was all. It was a well-known fact that adrenaline had that effect on people.
Desperate to regain her composure, she stepped back from Cameron, and managed a weak smile.
‘Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it. I’ve really got to go now—I’m horribly late for my appointment as it is.’ She was aware that she sounded as if she were at some afternoon tea party, but it was the best she could manage.
‘No problem,’ Cameron replied, his voice cooler this time, ‘but, seriously, you have to take it easy on these narrow roads. I know that’s a beast of a car you have, but brute strength in a vehicle is no substitute for a safe driver. Next time you—or some other unfortunate soul—might not be so lucky.’
Feeling like a five-year-old who had been caught stealing biscuits, and not a little indignant, Meagan climbed back into the driver’s seat. She knew she had been at fault, but she was in no mood for a lecture from any man, no matter how helpful he had been, or how good-looking. And he was as gorgeous as she remembered, she couldn’t help admitting to herself.
Liquid brown eyes and thick, black hair fell across his forehead, giving him an appealing air of vulnerability and sensuality that his solid frame belied. His broad shoulders were outlined in a V-neck black sweater that was thin enough for her to make out the contours of his muscular chest and a pair of faded blue jeans clung to his thighs in a most disconcerting manner. He had a stubble on his chin, as if he hadn’t shaved for a few days. His thigh-high waders were turned down to below his knees and Meagan thought he looked like a fisherman—some sort of swashbuckling pirate in another life. But that wasn’t what he had told her the night they had met.
Images came flooding back—the feel of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his body. She closed her eyes against the memory. It didn’t matter how attractive he was, she was never going to get close to a man again—not after Charlie. Aware of the familiar ache that thinking of Charlie brought, she pushed him to the back of her mind. She was finished with men. In particular men who thought they were God’s gift to women. And Cameron clearly belonged to that camp. That night had obviously meant nothing to him—he had never tried to get in touch with her afterward. Had there been many women? Had she just been one forgettable encounter of many? Meagan felt her cheeks burn at the thought. With an attempt at a nonchalant wave to her rescuer, she drove off more sedately. Confused and shaken, she refused to think about the night she had met Cameron and instead turned her thoughts to the meeting ahead.
Dr Colin MacDonald, or Dr Colin as she affectionately called him, and her father had been medical students together many years before and friends ever since. Dr Colin and his wife were going on an extended trip to Australia for four weeks, and when her father had told her that he was looking for a locum to help his partner while he was away, she had jumped at the chance. She had always wanted to return to Uist and hoped that some time on the peaceful and beautiful island on Scotland’s west coast would help heal whatever it was that Charlie’s death—and betrayal—seemed to have broken.
Dr Colin had suggested that they meet at the surgery for an informal interview at six that evening. ‘It will just be Dr Stuart and myself, so it won’t be formal. Perhaps we can grab a bite to eat afterwards,’ he had suggested in his lilting Hebridean accent. ‘As you know, I’ll be leaving for Australia the next day, so unfortunately this will be the only chance the three of us will get to chat.’
Meagan pulled into the surgery car park. She glanced at her watch. With all that had happened she was most definitely late. She took a few minutes to collect herself while studying the surgery and its surroundings. It had changed from the old croft house that she remembered from her childhood visits. Instead, brand-new premises had been built more in keeping with modern-day practice. Nevertheless Meagan felt a pang of regret for the old practice with its homely feeling.
As she got out of the car, she glanced down at her feet. Around her ankles were matching rings of mud, like ankle-length boots. Her blouse and skirt were also spattered with brown. She’d have to sneak in, find the ladies and repair the damage before her interview. Late or not, there was no way she could present herself as an appropriate candidate for any job looking the way she did.
Quickly she fished around in her suitcase for a clean blouse, and digging out a pair of knee-length boots she swapped them for her high heels. At least they’d cover the worst of the damage. She crept into the surgery, blouse in hand, hoping to locate the ladies before bumping into anyone.
But it wasn’t to be. Dr Colin MacDonald was waiting for her in the reception area.
‘My dear girl,’ he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. ‘I was getting worried about you. I checked with the ferry company and they told me the ferry had arrived right on time. Was the traffic on the way here awful?’
Thankfully he didn’t seem to require a reply. Meagan wasn’t sure she wanted him to know she had managed to go off the road so soon after her arrival.
‘I’m here now—that’s what matters,’ she said, returning his hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Dr Colin—and to be back on Uist again.’
‘Here,’ he said, holding her by the arms. ‘Let me get a good look at you—Dr Galbraith now, no less. The last time I saw you was at your wedding, when you were still slogging away as a junior doctor.’
Meagan must have looked stricken, as his voice immediately softened. Gathering her gently back into his arms, he soothed her, ‘My dear girl, I’m so sorry. Your father told me all about Charlie.’
Meagan breathed in deeply, gently disengaging herself from his embrace.
‘I’m all right now, Dr Colin, really. It just hits me now and again. But I’m here and ready to start afresh! Or at least I will be in a few moments,’ she said, remembering the state of her clothes. She looked around anxiously, but there was no one else in sight. Perhaps Dr Stuart was waiting in one of the consulting rooms to start the meeting?
‘Dr Colin, if you don’t mind, could I nip into the ladies quickly? I don’t want to keep you and Dr Stuart waiting, but I need to freshen up.’
Luckily Colin wasn’t the sort of man to pay much attention to a woman’s appearance. Meagan remembered his long-suffering wife Peggy complaining often that Colin would see patients in his slippers if it weren’t for her. And, right enough, Meagan couldn’t help noticing that his sweater was a bit worse for wear around the elbows. Nevertheless, Meagan knew Colin gave his patients his undivided attention and was loved in return.
‘You take your time, my dear,’ he said. ‘Dr Stuart’s been held up on his way back from