Hired: GP and Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal (10 page)

‘I think you’ve realised what a silly thing it was to do, haven’t you, Zac?’ said Terry. She was sure the boy was genuinely contrite about what he’d done. ‘Now, go and have some of that food the others are barbecuing—you must be very hungry.’

Zac nodded and slouched off, and Atholl sighed as they watched him. ‘Who knows? It may possibly have taught him something about being responsible for his own actions. If he’d done this in Glasgow he might never have been caught—perhaps told his mother he’d just found the jewellery or something.’

‘I think you’re right. He’s been caught twice here and he feels a fool.’

There was the sound of another vehicle drawing up, a slamming door and a hearty shout. Everyone turned round and a figure that turned out to be Pete came running towards them in the dark, waving his arms and yelling excitedly.

‘Hi, everyone. It’s a wee girl! Sally’s just given me a beautiful daughter! And they’re both absolutely fine!’

After the celebrations, toasting the new baby in beer and wine that Pete had brought back with him, Atholl, Terry and Pete strolled back from the barbecue to the barn. The boys had all turned in and the fire had been damped down. The air was warm, not a breeze stirring the trees by the loch.

‘What a day! I’m absolutely shattered. Becoming a father is extremely tiring,’ yawned Pete. ‘I’m off for some shut-eye. There’s spare sleeping bags in the cupboard, so make yourselves at home. You can have my office to sleep in, Terry—there’s a camp bed in there, and Atholl can kip with me.’

‘Thanks. I’ll be along soon,’ said Atholl.

Pete disappeared to his room and Terry lingered for a minute, smelling the balmy air of the warm night and listening to the rustlings and little sounds that were part of the surroundings. It seemed so peaceful after the excitement of the day, a time to reflect and wind down. Rather woozily she reflected that perhaps they’d all been a bit too enthusiastic in their celebration of the new baby’s birth. The result of drinking a glass or two on a relatively empty stomach had made her feel delightfully relaxed.

She was vaguely aware that Atholl had come to stand by her, looking at her profile as she dreamily watched the night sky.

‘What a lovely ending to the day—a new baby arriving!’ she murmured.

‘Yes—a lovely ending.’ His voice was very quiet.

In the silvery light her hair looked fairer, her dark eyes larger. God, she was beautiful. Atholl felt his throat catch at the sweetness of her face, the tip-tilted nose, soft lips and high cheekbones that gave a heart-shaped definition to her face. Since the morning when he’d gone to wake her up in her bedroom, he had become more and more aware as the day had gone on that Terry was everything he wanted—the kind of woman he’d dreamt about but had thought he’d never have a hope in hell of meeting.

When Zara and he had split up, yes, he’d been bruised and mortified—but mostly he’d been furious that she had duped him. If this was what happened when you thought you’d met the right person, he’d vowed he’d be very, very wary before getting involved again. And now Terry had come into his life and the picture was changing rather rapidly.

Atholl bent down, picked a stone up from the shore and skimmed it across the loch, so that it bounced three times and the circles of water rippled out, gleaming in the moonshine. He wondered how long he could go on working and living so close to Terry in a kind of teasing no-man’s land where they flirted with each other, then backed off in a tantalising dance. He had to tell her honestly what he felt—and he wanted to know how she felt about him.

‘I think I’ll turn in now,’ Terry said, starting to walk back across the shingly shore.

Atholl put out his hand and took hers, pulling her back slightly. ‘Terry…wait a moment. Don’t go yet.’

She turned round to him, slightly startled, and then the moon went behind a cloud and for a second they were plunged into almost total darkness. Terry’s foot slipped on a smooth rock as she stepped back and she stumbled, almost falling to the ground before Atholl grabbed her, slipping his arm round her waist.

‘Careful, we don’t want any more accidents today,’ he murmured.

Terry giggled, the effect of the wine beginning to kick in rather forcefully.

‘You’re making a habit of this, catching me when I fall.’ ‘That’s fine by me. I want to be there for you whenever I’m needed.’

‘That sounds rather serious,’ she said flippantly.

She leant against him for a second, thinking how heavenly it was to relax against the hard wall of his chest, feel the thud of his heart against hers.

‘You’re very strong,’ she teased, the inhibitions she’d had about getting too intimate with Atholl floating away rapidly.

He grinned, his teeth white in the dark. ‘I need to be strong, with you falling about all over the place…’

His arms tightened about her and he bent his head to hers, and she felt the evening stubble of his chin prickly against her skin. His lips touched hers gently and it felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering inside her—then that puritanical voice at the back of her mind whispered that she should march away quickly at this point. With a great effort she pulled away from him, putting a few paces between them.

‘We shouldn’t do this, Atholl,’ she said, rather fuzzily, trying to enunciate carefully. ‘Let’s keep things strictly platonic, then neither of us will get hurt, like I was with Max and you with Zara.’

A moment’s silence and then he said harshly, striding forward and catching her arm, ‘That’s laughable, Terry. You’re nothing like that woman. You and she…Why, there’s no comparison. She cheated on me, told me so many lies.’

‘But everyone has baggage from the past that they might not want to reveal. Atholl, there are things about my background—’ she started to say.

Atholl put his finger on her mouth. ‘Hush. You’re perfect as you are.’ His arms tightened around her and he gazed down at her silently for a moment, then murmured, ‘There! I’ve said it! God, Terry, I know you feel something for me too. When we’re in the same room it’s like there’s no one else there—just the two of us. Sparks fly when we’re together, honey, admit it!’

He started to kiss her face, covering her brows, her mouth and neck with soft kisses, making her dizzy with delight. She put her arms round his neck and looked into his eyes.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I admit it.’ Had they reached a watershed of some kind on this soft, balmy night? She stroked his thick dark hair back from his forehead and smiled. ‘I want to forget about Max and…everything,’ she said simply. ‘I want to enjoy myself.’

He grinned. ‘I’ll try and ensure that you will, darling.’

And Terry didn’t draw back when he pulled her gently onto the soft mossy ground under the trees by the loch, where the smell was earthy and sweet. He ran his finger down her jaw and her neck, smiling as she responded with a delighted wriggle of her body.

Then he started kissing her face, her lips, trailing his warm mouth down her neck, murmuring her name. Terry felt as if she was back in her dream—Atholl holding her against his chest, his hands stroking her body gently but insistently until every erogenous zone in her body screamed for more.

She lay back on the soft earth and stretched languorously, loving the feel of Atholl’s hard muscled body, and the certain knowledge that he was as aroused as she was! Then he knelt up for a second, his legs on either side of her, looking down at her with twinkling eyes.

‘What a way to end the evening!’ And Terry laughed because it was exciting and wonderful to undress him as he did her, forget any qualms and enjoy the moment. Funny how quickly it had come to this, she thought dizzily, both of them naked against each other, warm skin against warm skin, his hands doing wonderful things to her body—just as she had dreamt.

Atholl’s lips nibbled her ear, and he said throatily, ‘You know something—I’m glad I didn’t get a man to join the practice.’

She smiled. ‘So am I, Atholl, so am I.’

Then they lost themselves in each other, both seizing their moment of happiness, limbs entwined, revelling in the waves of sweetness that swept through them. And afterwards they lay for a long time side by side, under the velvety sky, looking at each other as if almost surprised by the wonder of what they’d just done.

At last Atholl rolled over on his stomach and looked down into Terry’s eyes. ‘We’ve been and gone and done it now!’ he sighed. ‘And just how wonderful it was, my sweet princess!’

Terry looked up at him, seeing his eyes dark and intense in the moonlight, his warm breath on her cheek, and felt a flood of happiness engulf her. It was time to look forward, and she didn’t care that she still hadn’t told him her full story. She wouldn’t worry about that now!

He took her arm as they strolled back together to The Culleens in companionable silence, then he kissed her gently on the steps before she went in.

Atholl stayed outside for a minute, leaning against the wall, gazing across the dark loch with a silver path across it where the moon’s light fell. For the first time for many months he felt genuinely at peace with himself and filled with the contentment that came after making love to the most wonderful woman in the world.

He chuckled to himself. He realised that he was in love with Terry, and perhaps he had been since the moment he’d offered her a job the first day she’d come!

T
ERRY
hummed happily as she poured herself a mug of coffee and peered at the computer to see what her list was like for the morning.

Isobel was just finishing a phone call and she turned round to Terry with the slight smile that was the most levity she usually allowed herself.

‘Someone’s happy,’ she remarked. ‘So did you have a good weekend, then?’

Only the most wonderful, fantastic day she’d had in her life, thought Terry, a vivid picture of Atholl and her by the loch in the moonlight and the realisation that they both liked each other a lot. Maybe it wouldn’t lead to a lifetime’s commitment—after all, they’d both had fractured relationships—but suddenly the future looked very bright indeed. She was surprised how calm her voice sounded when she replied.

‘Mostly good, thank you, Isobel. On the downside, one of the boys dislocated his shoulder, but Pete’s wife gave birth to a little girl at the hospital, which was very exciting. Atholl and I took over for a while when he went to visit Sally.’

Isobel started to pin a notice on the board and didn’t speak for a moment. Then she said casually, ‘I’m glad you and Atholl get on well—it makes it easier when you work together.’

Was there the slightest emphasis on the words ‘work together’? Terry wondered if there was a hidden agenda to Isobel’s remarks.

‘Yes,’ she replied lightly, ‘I think we’re on the same wavelength when it comes to work.’

Isobel nodded. ‘Aye, it’s good to see him concentrate on the practice. As you probably know, he had a distressing time with Dr Grahame. It wasn’t a good thing for him to mix work with socialising—if you know what I mean. It can lead to all sorts of…shall we say complications? He was most unhappy.’

Was this the gypsy’s warning? A caution for her not to get too close to Isobel’s darling Atholl? Isobel might be right—work and social pleasure didn’t always work out, but if one was careful, surely it needn’t be disaster?

‘He did tell me about her,’ she admitted. ‘It was obviously horrible for him.’

Isobel gave a grunt of disgust and started to type something furiously on the computer.

‘You could say that. Aye, there were a lot of things Atholl didn’t know about that one, and when he did, it was almost too late. Thank God he found out the truth about her.’

Terry bit her lip. What on earth would Isobel say if she really knew what had happened the night before? But a little wave of happiness rippled through her. She really didn’t care what Isobel thought!

Sue and Bunty came in, taking off their jackets, and Sue sank into a chair looking her usual harassed self after a weekend looking after her family.

‘What a morning! Just try getting three quarrelling boys off to school on time with all their homework and lunch boxes—and then, just as I think I’ve got them through the gates, Jake says he’s forgotten his sports kit!’

‘Have some coffee.’ Terry grinned, handing her a cup. ‘You can relax now you’ve come in to work!’

Sue gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Relax, did you say? Baby clinic first and then all the check-ups later this morning for the over-fifties. Then this afternoon—’

She was interrupted by a small commotion in the waiting room, a child wailing and an adult’s soothing voice saying, ‘You’ll be all right now.’

‘I want my mum. I want her to make it better!’ screamed the child over the top of the adult’s voice. ‘Go and get her
now!
’

‘What on earth’s happening?’ said Isobel sternly, getting up from her chair and marching through to the waiting room. A few seconds later she appeared again, holding a small sobbing boy by the hand.

‘Look what I’ve got, Sue. I think he belongs to you!’

‘Jake!’ cried Sue in astonishment. She put down her coffee and ran towards the child, cuddling him. ‘What’s the matter? I’ve only just dropped you off at school!’

A rather flustered-looking woman appeared at the door. ‘I’m afraid Jake’s trapped his finger in a door and his nail’s gone very black—it looks most painful. I thought it best to bring him straight here, knowing you worked at the medical centre.’

‘Mrs Milnthorpe!’ Sue turned to the others. ‘This is Jake’s headmistress. Oh, thank you so much for bringing him here.’ She knelt down by her sobbing little boy, who was guarding one hand within the other one. She tried to prise it open. ‘Let’s have a look, Jake. It’s alright, darling, we’ll do something about it.’ Sue looked up at Terry. ‘What do you think? The nail’s gone black and it’s very swollen.’

Terry looked at the small finger with a purple nail on it proffered very reluctantly for their gaze by the tearful child, and grimaced.

‘Poor old Jake! It’s obviously bleeding behind the nail and there isn’t much space to bleed into, so no wonder it’s painful. But don’t worry—I’ve got a great way to make it feel a lot, lot better!’

Jake began to scream. ‘I don’t want you to touch it. Keep away!’ He pulled his hand away from Terry and protected it with his other hand again, looking at them defiantly with tear-filled eyes, then buried his head in his mother’s shoulder, squirming when she tried to extricate his arm. Sue looked back at the other women rather helplessly.

‘It’s not easy when you’re related to the patient,’ she said wryly.

‘Normally the patient isn’t using you as a shield!’ remarked Terry, squatting down by the little boy and attempting to pull him round to face her. ‘Just let me see your poorly finger for a minute, sweetheart. I promise it won’t hurt,’ she said.

A muffled bellow was all she got in reply.

‘Well, well, now—is somebody in trouble here?’ said a familiar deep voice.

Atholl’s tall figure was looming at the door. He looked around at everyone clustered round the little boy, his eyes holding Terry’s for a second of intimate scrutiny so that her pulse bounded into overdrive. Then, quickly assessing the situation, he strode over to the little boy and bent down beside him. He prised the child away from his mother gently but firmly, taking no notice of the child’s resistance or the increasing volume of his screams.

‘Come on, wee lad,’ he said coaxingly, a mixture of understanding and rallying in his voice. ‘You’re a brave boy, I know.’

He held the frightened child close to him, patting his back, letting the little boy calm down as naturally as if it had been his own son, thought Terry. She sighed, remembering how tender her father had been to her when she had been little, always on her side, always there for her when she’d needed him.

Atholl was still speaking to the little boy. ‘Let Dr Terry and I get rid of that pain for you.’ He looked up at Terry with a wink. ‘We make a magical team, you know!’

Terry leapt back into the present, pushing the flashback away. Atholl delved into his jacket pocket and brought out a tiny model car, waving it in front of Jake.

‘See this, Jake. Look, when I push it along the floor the headlamps light up—can you see them?’

There was a moment’s silence as the little boy’s interest was caught, following the toy with his eyes as it raced along until stopped by a chair leg.

‘Would you like that, Jake?’ The child nodded silently. ‘Well, just let Dr Terry look at that finger for a minute, then it’s all yours.’

‘Right—has anyone got a match?’ asked Terry. ‘I’ve got the rest of the equipment in my bag. Here it is…a pin and a pair of tweezers!’

Isobel came forward with a box of matches and everyone watched goggled-eyed as Terry gripped the pin in the tweezers and then held the tip in the flame of the match. Atholl had a firm arm round Jake and he swivelled the child round so that he was pointing towards the window, and at the same time held the little boy’s hand out towards Terry.

‘Look, Jake,’ he said urgently. ‘Can you see that squirrel running up the tree outside? He’s just stolen some nuts from the bird table out there…’

During the time that Jake’s attention was diverted, Terry took his finger and pressed the glowing pin tip firmly into the injured nail. There was a faint hiss as the hot metal burnt a hole in the nail and blood started to ooze out through the freshly made aperture.

‘Oh,’ breathed Bunty, impressed. ‘That was neatly done! How amazing!’

Terry laughed. ‘Not to be done at home, but it worked because Mrs Milnthorpe got Jake here before the blood began to clot.’

Jake twisted round and looked at his finger doubtfully, then back at the adults round him. ‘It’s not hurting now!’ he said wonderingly.

‘I told you that Dr Terry and I are good when we get together!’ Atholl’s mischievous eyes met Terry’s, and she looked away hastily. Did he want the whole room to know about them?

‘I think brave boys deserve a chocolate biscuit and some milk,’ she said quickly. ‘And then you can go back to school—that finger won’t give you any trouble now!’

‘I’ll take you back,’ said Mrs Milnthorpe. ‘You will have a lot to tell your friends, won’t you? Quite a hero!’

After a farewell hug from his mother, Jake trotted off quite happily, clutching the little car, and Sue sank back into a chair, blowing out her cheeks.

‘That child—he’s always getting into scrapes,’ she sighed. ‘Thank you so much, both of you, for that procedure! By the way, Atholl, do you carry a stock of those little cars?’

‘It’s like a toy shop in my pockets.’ He grinned. ‘Anything else we can do for you?’

Sue’s eyes twinkled. ‘Well, I hate to mention it…but as a matter of fact I thought one of you was going to clear some rubbish from your room this weekend so that I could transfer some of
my
rubbish in the space you’d made! There’s still only just enough space in my room for one thin patient and me at the moment!’

Terry clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘Oh, God—so sorry, Sue! Er…I’m afraid it just went out of my head completely. You know we had The Culleens outward bound course yesterday and then Pete’s baby arrived…and one thing and another…’

‘I know, I know.’ Sue smiled good-naturedly. ‘I’m sure your mind was on plenty of things other than The Sycamores!’

How right she was, thought Terry wryly, almost able to feel the mischievous grin that played across Atholl’s face! She averted her gaze quickly—all these double entendres were getting embarrassing!

‘I promise I’ll do it this evening—honest,’ she said.

‘Would you like me to help you sort things out?’ asked Sue.

‘No, I’ll be fine. I’ve got to be really ruthless—there seem to be loads of ancient files stacked in a corner which I’m sure are completely out of date. Atholl’s uncle obviously doesn’t like throwing things out!’ She turned to go to her room. ‘Right, I’ll get on with some of the BP checks now—would you bring the blood test results and post when you’ve got them, Bunty?’

Janet Rathbone was her first patient that day, small, slight and softly spoken, in complete contrast to her husband, thought Terry with amusement. He had obviously managed to persuade her to come in for a bloodpressure check. She had a large bruise on her cheek below her eye, and resembled a little bird, looking at Terry with her head cocked on one side.

‘That bruise looks painful,’ Terry observed, as she prepared to take the woman’s blood pressure.

‘I walked into the glass door of the hotel dining room,’ explained Mrs Rathbone. ‘Very clumsy of me—I was deep in thought.’ She smiled pleasantly at Terry. ‘I hope you’re enjoying life here, Dr Younger. I believe you’ve taken over from Dr Brodie’s uncle?’

‘That’s right. And, yes, I love it here on Scuola. Now, if I could just ask you a few questions about your general health to update our records?’

‘If you wish—but I’m very lucky,’ replied Janet. ‘Some people, like my poor husband, seem to have to visit the doctor a lot. I’ve been blessed with a very strong constitution.’

Was there a twinkle in her eyes as she said this? wondered Terry. She knew her husband better than anyone and was well aware of his worries over his health. Janet herself did indeed look healthy—no tremors, a good colour, strong nails and, listening to her heart through her stethoscope, a good, regular beat.

‘That’s great. I suppose you keep up with dental checks, eye examinations, and so?’

The slightest hesitation made Terry look up at the woman questioningly.

‘I will make sure I do,’ Mrs Rathbone assured her quickly. ‘I have been meaning to have my eyes checked.’

A glimmer of an idea occurred to Terry and she opened a drawer and pulled out an eye chart. She hooked it up on the wall behind the desk.

‘Can you read me those lines as far down as you can go?’ she asked.

There was a silence, and then very slowly the woman began to read the first line, petering out after a few letters. ‘I…I’m sorry. It does seem a little blurred.’

‘Do you wear glasses for distance, Mrs Rathbone?’

‘No, no, my sight’s always been fine.’

‘What about reading glasses?’

‘Oh, I’ve never needed them…’

Terry reached into a drawer and pulled out the
Scuola Recorder
that Bunty had given her a few days ago, showing Mrs Rathbone the large photo on the front page.

‘By the way, have you seen this?’ she asked. ‘See anyone you know?’

The woman peered at it, screwing her eyes up, then said at last. ‘It’s not a very clear photograph…Is it Dr Atholl? It’s a bit like him…’

Terry leant back in her chair and smiled across at Mrs Rathbone, pretty sure that she knew what was causing Mrs Rathbone’s clumsiness.

‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but I have to say I think you really do need glasses. Your sight has probably deteriorated since you last had an eye test—quite normal for everyone to get changes in their sight as they get older.’

‘To be honest, I’ve never actually
had
an eye test, although I did begin to wonder why things didn’t seem to

be as clear as they were. In fact,’ Janet admitted, ‘I really don’t do any reading now—no time, I suppose. Frankly, I don’t really hold with all this worrying about health and testing all the time.’

‘Well, while you’re here, let me just have a quick look at your eyes,’ said Terry, taking her ophthalmoscope out of a drawer. ‘I’m by no means an expert on eyes, of course, but I can get a general idea of their health.’

Through the instrument Terry could see the entire area of the retina, the head of the optic nerve and the retinal arteries, all being illuminated by a perforated angled mirror.