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The grumpy doc. Was that what she’d nicknamed him? It wasn’t the most flattering description in the world. His stomach twisted a little. He should be worrying about his reputation. He should be worrying about what people might think of him. But, strangely, the only person’s opinion he was worried about right now was Kristie’s. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’
‘I know you don’t watch the series. But I thought I should forewarn you—in case, once the next episode hits, you start to get some press.’
‘Bad press, you mean.’
She gave him a smile. ‘Actually, no. I’ve told you. They love you. I was thinking more along the lines that you might get weird internet proposals, or your dating profile might explode.’
‘My dating profile? You honestly think I’ve got a dating profile?’
She held out her hands and gave him a mischievous smile. ‘Who knows?’
He shook his head as they started back down the beach. ‘On an island this small I pretty much know everyone. If I had a dating profile, the whole island would know it, and anyway it’s a bit hard to meet for dates when you rely on a ferry to the mainland.’
He looked at her curiously. ‘Do you have one—a dating profile?’
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘Are you joking? I was on TV for about ten seconds before I started getting weird emails. It seems that being on a TV show makes you fair game. Nope. I just try to meet guys the old-fashioned way.’
He looked down at her as they walked side by side. ‘And how’s that working out for you?’ He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious.
She gave him an oblique glance. She knew. She knew the question he was asking. She held out her hand and wiggled it. ‘Hmm...’
What did that mean?
She didn’t say anything else so he was kind of left hanging.
‘So, is everything okay for tomorrow, then?’
He nodded. ‘Sure.’ At that moment Mac ran up and decided to shake half of the Firth of Clyde all over them.
‘Whoa!’ Both of them jumped back, laughing, Kristie wiping the huge drops of water from her face and neck.
Rhuaridh took a step closer. ‘Sorry.’ He looked towards Mac. ‘Occupational hazard, I guess.’
He reached forward without thinking. Part of her mascara had smudged just under her lower eyelid. He lifted his thumb to her cheekbone and wiped it away. Her laughter stopped as she looked up, her gaze connecting with his.
His hand froze. It was like all the breath had just been sucked from his lungs. He was so conscious of the feel of her smooth skin beneath his thumb pad. He could almost swear a tiny little zing shot down his arm.
She wasn’t moving either. Her pupils dilated as he watched.
It was like every sense inside him switched on. He hadn’t been paying attention. He’d been so focused on his work he’d forgotten to see what was right beside him. When was the last time he’d actually dated? Maybe once in the ten months since he’d got here. He couldn’t even remember.
He couldn’t remember what it was like to let a woman’s scent drift around him like it was now. To look into a pair of eyes that were looking right back at him.
There was a shout behind them and both of them jumped back. It was only one of the teenagers carrying on.
But the moment was gone. Kristie looked a little embarrassed and wiped her hands down on her jeans. ‘I’d better get back,’ she said quickly. ‘Gerry and I need to chat about the filming tomorrow.’ She started to walk quickly down the beach, then turned once to look at him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
The words seem to hang between them, as if she was willing him to add something else. But he gave a quick nod. ‘Sure.’
Kristie broke into a jog back down the beach. He couldn’t help but stare at her silhouette. Mac bounded up and sat at his feet, looking up at him quizzically.
If there was mental telepathy between a human and a dog, Mac was currently calling him an idiot.
He kicked the sand at his feet. ‘I know, I know,’ he said as he shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets.
He pushed his thoughts from his head. She was from LA. She worked on a TV show. He was crazy to think she might actually be interested in some guy from Arran. His ex had been quick to tell him that Arran was a dull, boring rock in the middle of nowhere. What could it possibly have to interest some woman who was probably two minutes from Hollywood? He stared out as the sun drew even closer to the horizon, sending warming streaks across the sky. He sighed. ‘Let’s go, Mac,’ he said as he turned and headed back to the cottage.
