“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.
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.