Summer Fling: A Bride for Glenmore. Sarah Morgan

her head to one side, challenging him. ‘You’re missing all the positives. Like the fact that almost everyone on this island is part of an informal support network and that counts for a lot. When Fraser was in hospital with pneumonia when he was younger, everyone rallied round to help Aisla, even though she’d only just arrived on the island and knew no one.’

      He sat back in his chair, his expression watchful. ‘Go on.’

      She shrugged. ‘When Mrs Linton tripped down her stairs someone phoned us within the hour because they’d noticed that her bin hadn’t been taken in. In London she probably would have been on the floor for a week before it occurred to anyone that something might be wrong.’

      ‘Probably even longer than that,’ Ethan said dryly, finishing his drink and sitting back as their food arrived. ‘All right, you’ve convinced me. I can see that it has its advantages.’

      ‘But it isn’t somewhere that you could ever settle for good.’ The words left her mouth before she could stop them and she froze, appalled at herself for being so indiscreet.

      Why had she asked that question? What was the matter with her? It wasn’t even as if she wanted him to be there for ever. She just wanted—she wanted—

      A fling, she acknowledged finally, looking away from his searching gaze so that she didn’t reveal any more. She wanted a wild, abandoned fling with an incredible-looking, intelligent man, and Ethan Walker fitted that description.

      ‘What about you?’ His voice was even as he handed her a knife and fork and reached for his own. ‘You’re obviously an extremely skilled nurse. Have you ever considered leaving here?’

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean? That the people on the island deserve less than mainlanders?’

      ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ His tone was wry. ‘You’re very touchy. Stop jumping down my throat. I just wondered whether you might be bored.’

      ‘I trained on the mainland and that was enough for me. Here I have a great deal more autonomy than I would have on the mainland. I happen to think that anonymity is vastly overrated.’ She poked the food on her plate for a moment and then looked up. ‘I like people, Ethan. I like knowing what they’re up to. I don’t even mind the fact that they know everything that I’m doing before I even do it. I like the feeling of belonging. I like the knowledge that there is a whole community out there, pulling together, trying to improve each other’s lives. In cities all you read about is stabbings and muggings, whereas here—’ She broke off and gave an embarrassed shrug.

      ‘I sense that we’re back to caring again.’

      ‘They probably care in the city, too, it’s just that life is so fast and busy that no one has the opportunity to show it, and before you know it you don’t even recognise your neighbours.’

      ‘Is that really an excuse?’ Ethan gave a short laugh. ‘You’re not exactly kicking your heels here and you manage to know everyone.’

      ‘But we have a pretty static population except for the tourist season. Live in a city and people come and go. Here, everyone we see here is known to us. It’s different. And I love the challenge of having to work with limited back-up. It makes you more resourceful.’

      They’d both finished eating and Kyla suddenly realised that she’d been too absorbed in their conversation to even notice the food. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

      His surprised glance at his empty plate told her that he’d been similarly distracted.

      ‘Very much. The treacle tart was delicious.’

      ‘Shall I order some coffee?’

      Ethan looked at her. ‘Let’s have coffee at home. That way we can drink it without everyone watching.’

      She smiled. ‘Good plan.’

       What had possessed him to suggest coffee when what he really needed was to keep as far away from her as possible?

      Frustrated with himself, Ethan walked briskly back towards the cottages and resolved to make the coffee quick and businesslike. If he kept the conversation fairly formal, that would help.

      And he wouldn’t look at her.

      ‘Ethan? Are you OK?’ Kyla’s voice had a soft, breathy quality and he suddenly realised that not looking at her wasn’t going to make any difference at all. He could have had his eyes shut in a dark room and she still would have had the same effect on him.

      ‘I’m fine.’ He could feel her looking at him and lengthened his stride. ‘How is Doug doing anyway? Did Logan get any feedback from the hospital?’

      ‘Oh. Better, I think. Seems a bit more relaxed. It’s Leslie who’s the problem. She’s hanging over him every minute of the day, just waiting for him to collapse. I’m going round there tomorrow to see if I can help her get her head around the whole thing.’

      This was fine, Ethan told himself as they reached the cottages. This was good. Talking about work kept everything on a safe level. He could handle this. Quick coffee. Small talk. And he wasn’t going to touch her.

      His resolve lasted as long as it took to follow her into her kitchen.

      She was still wearing the jeans but she’d added a pair of sexy heels and a pretty cardigan in a shade of blue that matched her eyes.

      ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said cheerfully, reaching for mugs and coffee, ‘and we can take it down to the beach if you like. It’s lovely to sit on the sand in the dark and watch the stars.’

      He felt a sudden rush of heat through his body. ‘Here is fine,’ he said hoarsely, running a hand over the back of his neck. He didn’t need the darkness or stars. ‘The kitchen is fine.’ There was nothing romantic about fluorescent light.

      ‘All right. If that’s what you prefer.’ She shot him a curious look and spooned fresh coffee into a cafetière. ‘Do you realise that you’ve been here for two weeks and I still know hardly anything about you? We’ve been so busy we’ve hardly exchanged more than two words.’

      And that was the way he’d wanted it. ‘There’s not much to know about me.’

      ‘You mean there’s not much you want to tell.’ She poured water into the pot. ‘Where did you work last?’

      Hell? ‘Abroad.’

      She gave a soft laugh and turned to face him. ‘You don’t give anything away, do you, Ethan? Did anyone ever tell you that one-word answers don’t make a conversation?’

      ‘I’m not that great at conversation. You should have worked that out by now.’ She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and her legs looked impossibly long. ‘I ought to go …’

      She hesitated and then walked towards him, narrowing the distance that he’d carefully placed between them. ‘You haven’t drunk your coffee.’

      He wasn’t even sure who touched who first.

      He just knew that one moment he was standing there full of good intentions and then next she had her arms wrapped round his neck and his mouth was hard on hers.

      His good intentions dissolved, as did his conscience and all the other better parts of his nature that had been holding him back.

      His hands traced the soft curves that his eyes had already admired. His mouth devouring hers, he slid his hands over her hips, then over her bottom, anchoring her against him. The taste and the scent of her threatened to overwhelm him and he dragged his mouth away from hers and pressed his lips against her neck.

      ‘Ethan …’ She murmured his name and pressed closer and that movement alone was enough to snap the last of his self-control.

      His mouth found hers again and his hands moved to the hem of her top, sliding underneath, finding the smooth, tanned skin that he’d admired earlier.

      Her