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‘I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole! And I’m never venturing outside again without full protective clothing.’
Conner’s eyes flickered to the neck of her uniform. ‘You don’t need to overdo it. The tick that carries the bacteria likes areas where there are wild deer.’
Her heart started to beat just a little bit faster. ‘And that’s why you were so interested in where the Greggs went on holiday?’
‘The symptoms fitted. The fact that they’d been camping in a forest in warm weather made it highly possible that he’d contracted the disease. Ticks like warm weather and people wear less then so they’re more likely to be bitten.’ His eyes lifted to hers and the tension between them increased.
‘Why haven’t I heard of it?’
‘Obviously there haven’t been any cases on Glenmore. It’s sensible to take precautions if you’re walking or camping in an area where infected ticks are known to live.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth, his gaze lingering. ‘Wear long sleeves and trousers, use a tick repellent spray—all the obvious things.’
They were talking about medical matters and yet there was a sudden intimacy in the atmosphere that she didn’t understand. It circled her like a forcefield, drawing her in, and when the phone rang suddenly she gave a start.
He was between her and the desk and she waited for him to move to one side so that she could answer it, but he stayed where he was. Left with no choice, she was forced to brush past him as she reached for the receiver. ‘Yes? I mean…’ Flustered by the fact that he was standing so close to her, she stumbled over the words. ‘Nurse Harris speaking—Oh, hello, Mr Murray.’ Struggling to concentrate, she listened as the man on the other end spoke to her. ‘Well, no, I hadn’t heard of it either, but—’ She broke off and listened again before finally shaking her head. ‘You’d better speak to him yourself.’
She sighed and handed the receiver to Conner. ‘It’s Mr Murray, the pharmacist down on South Quay. He has a question about the prescription you just gave Harry.’
Relaxed and confident, Conner took the phone from her, his gaze still locked with hers. ‘MacNeil.’
Flora felt as though someone had lit a fire inside her body. She should look away. She knew she should look away but she just couldn’t help herself. There was something in his ice-blue eyes that insisted that she look.
‘That’s right, Mr Murray, the dose is large.’ He listened, his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘Yes, I do know that I’m not treating a horse.’
Flora frowned and mouthed, ‘A horse?’ But Conner merely lifted a hand and trailed a finger down her cheek with agonising slowness.
‘No, believe it or not, I’m not trying to kill him, Mr Murray,’ he drawled softly, his finger lingering near her mouth. ‘I’m treating a case of Lyme disease. If you look it up I think you’ll find that the dose I’ve given him is appropriate…Yes, even in a child.’ He brushed her lower lip with his thumb as he continued to field a tirade from the island pharmacist. ‘Yes, I do remember the incident with the firework. Yes, and the barn—No, I don’t blame you for questioning me, Mr Murray.’ His hand dropped to his side and she sensed a sudden change in him. ‘Of course, you’re just doing your job.’
Finally he replaced the receiver. ‘Apparently it isn’t just the patients who have a problem trusting my judgement.’
His tone was flat and Flora stood still, wanting to say something but not knowing what. ‘It was an unusual prescription.’
‘You don’t need to make excuses for them, Flora.’ Conner straightened and walked towards the door, his face expressionless. ‘You’d better carry on with your surgery. You have patients lining the waiting room.’
She stared after him as he left the room, wanting to stop him. She wanted to say something that would fix things because she sensed that beneath his bored, devil-may-care attitude there was a seam of pain buried so deep that no one could touch it.
The islanders were wary of him, that was true, but what did he think of them?
Remembering Logan’s words, Flora bit her lip. When had anyone given Conner MacNeil a chance? When had anyone given him the benefit of the doubt? Why should he bother with any of them when they’d never bothered with him?
It was going to take more than one or two successful consultations to fill his consulting room with patients because no one believed that Conner MacNeil could be anything but a Bad Boy.
It was going to take a miracle.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE miracle didn’t happen.
A few of the locals reluctantly agreed to see Conner, but the majority refused, choosing to wait a week to see Logan rather than be forced to consult the island rebel.
‘It’s ridiculous,’ Flora told Evanna crossly a week after Conner had arrived on Glenmore. They were sitting on a rug on the beach, watching Kirsty dig in the sand. Finally the wind had dropped and the sun shone. ‘They tell Janet it’s urgent, and then say they’d rather wait than see Conner. I mean, just how urgent can something be if it can wait a week? Frankly, it would serve them right if a bit of them dropped off.’
‘Well, to be fair to them, Conner was a bit wild and crazy,’ Evanna said mildly, picking up Kirsty’s sunhat and putting it back on her head. ‘We just need to give them time to realise that he’s changed.’
‘Time isn’t on our side. Glenmore needs another doctor. A doctor the patients will see! Your baby is due in four weeks,’ Flora reminded her. ‘If the patients don’t stop demanding to see Logan, you won’t get a look-in.’
Evanna sighed. ‘I know. He’s shattered. He used to always get home before I put Kirsty to bed. Now I’m lucky if he’s home before I’m in bed.’ She lifted her face to the sun. ‘It’s hot today.’
‘I gather from Logan that your blood result was all right.’ Flora lifted a bottle of water out of her bag and took a sip. ‘That’s a relief all round.’
