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She stared at him, drew breath and finally mentally reran the last few sentences. ‘Hold on.’ She lifted a hand as if to ward him off. ‘What did you mean when you said that your dad should have told me you were coming? Tell me he didn’t know you were coming. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.’
Surely David wouldn’t have done that to her.
He couldn’t …
Sam leaned impossibly broad shoulders against the wall and looked at her, a trace of amusement lighting his blue eyes. ‘He’s been nagging me for more than three months, Riggs. Finally he resorted to emotional blackmail. ‘‘I need this break, Sam, and if I can’t find a decent locum I can’t leave poor Anna.’’’
His imitation of his father was so good that if she hadn’t been so horrified, Anna would have laughed. Instead she gaped at him. ‘Locum? You’re the locum?’ Her voice cracked and all her important bodily functions like breathing and staying upright suddenly seemed threatened. It had to be a joke. ‘You have a sick sense of humour, McKenna.’
He shrugged. ‘Better a sick sense of humour than no sense of humour at all.’ He gave her a meaningful look. ‘Now, enough chatting. You can thank me later.’ He straightened and waved a hand to the cameraman who was still hovering. ‘In the meantime, we have work to do.’
She clenched her fists in her palms. He was implying that she had no sense of humour. He’d always accused her of being too uptight. Of not knowing how to relax. Of planning every detail of her life.
‘What I mean is, there is no way your dad would arrange for you to be the locum,’ she said, her teeth gritted as she spoke. ‘He knows we’d kill each other.’
‘That possibility does exist,’ Sam agreed, stifling a yawn and moving past her with a loose-limbed stride that betrayed absolutely no sense of urgency. ‘However, I reckon that if you stay in your space and I stay in mine, we should just about manage to coexist without significant injury.’
‘Wait a minute.’ She elbowed her way past the cameraman and planted herself in front of Sam again. Strands of dark hair trailed over her face and she brushed them back with an impatient hand. ‘If you’re really the locum, why are they here?’ She glared at the film crew as if they were a disease and he muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.
‘They’re here because I have a job to do,’ he said bluntly. ‘Normally I’d be in London, filming a new series. It seems I’m spending the summer in Cornwall so we’ve had to make some changes to the programme. We’ve had to adapt. You ought to try it some time.’
At that point, the woman who had been hovering at a tactful distance stepped forward. ‘It’s going to be brilliant, Dr Riggs.’ She reached out and shook Anna’s hand. ‘I’m Polly. I’m the producer of this series of Medical Matters. When Sam told us he was going to be working down here, we decided to do a whole series on summer health. It will be fantastic. We can look at taking care of yourself in the sun, first aid—everything families should know before they go on holiday.’
Warm and friendly, she listed her ideas with enthusiasm, and in normal circumstances Anna would have liked her immediately. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And she couldn’t like anyone who looked at Sam McKenna with such blatant adoration.
‘This is a busy practice,’ she said crisply. ‘We work flat out to cater to the needs of the locals and at this time of year our numbers double because of the tourist population. We don’t have time for film crews.’
‘But that’s the beauty of it,’ Polly said cheerfully, ‘Sam already knows the score. He’s used to being filmed all the time. There’ll be very little intrusion, I can assure you.’
‘The patients won’t like it.’
‘The patients will love it,’ Sam predicted dryly, lifting a hand and shielding his eyes from the sun. ‘And if they don’t, they don’t have to take part. They always have the right to refuse to be filmed. But I can tell you now that they won’t.’
‘We’re going to do a variety of different things,’ Polly explained eagerly, ‘a straightforward Medical Matters from the surgery, which is our usual format, but we’re also going to film on location, do some first-aid stuff on the beach—that sort of thing.’
‘It sounds as though you’ve got it all worked out,’ Anna said frostily, her eyes on Sam who simply shrugged. ‘We need to talk, McKenna. And we need to do it now.’
Polly glanced towards the cameraman who was still hovering. ‘Perhaps we should film you discussing it—it might be interesting.’
‘Well, unless you want to film something which needs a warning for bad language and violence, I suggest you switch off the camera and go and have a cream tea in the village,’ Anna said sweetly, her eyes still blazing into Sam’s. ‘You and me. Inside. Now.’
Without waiting for the sharp comment that she knew would come, she turned and strode to the front door, unlocking it and letting herself in. Functioning on automatic, she switched off the alarm and picked up the post, aware that he was behind her.
‘Don’t you have a receptionist any more? What happened to Glenda?’ He peered behind the empty reception area with a frown and she gritted her teeth.
She didn’t need his comments on the way the surgery ran.
‘Glenda is sometimes a bit late,’ she muttered, dropping the post behind Reception, ready for Glenda to sort out when she arrived. ‘She’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Late?’ He frowned, his expression suddenly thoughtful. ‘But she used to be the most punctual person in the world. Really dedicated. Why would Glenda be late?’
Anna bit her lip. She’d asked herself the same question a few times lately and she was steeling herself to address the matter with Glenda. But there was no way she was discussing this with Sam McKenna.
‘It’s really none of your business,’ she said coldly, and he gave a dismissive shrug.
‘Fair enough. Just didn’t sound much like the Glenda I used to know, that’s all.’
‘Well, you haven’t exactly been spending much time around here lately and people do change,’ Anna said tartly.
He ran a hand over his jaw, his expression thoughtful. ‘Have you tackled her?’
She gave an impatient sigh. ‘No. No, actually, I haven’t. If you must know, I haven’t had time to breathe or eat in the last few months, let alone sit down and get cosy with the staff.’
His eyes narrowed and his gaze swept her face. ‘That bad, huh?’
She gritted her teeth again and cursed herself for showing emotion in front of Sam. He would waste no time throwing it back at her. ‘Not bad. Just busy. And if it’s all right by you, I’d like to drop the subject now. When I need your advice, I’ll ask for it.’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ He hooked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and lounged against the reception desk. He had a lean, athletic physique, honed to perfection by his obsession with dangerous sports. ‘You wouldn’t ask my advice if you were hanging off a cliff by your fingernails. You’re so crazily independent, Riggs, that you’d drown rather than ask someone to throw you a lifebelt.’
‘Then it’s a good job I’m not drowning,’ she said coldly, walking through to the reception area and automatically picking up some scattered toys and returning them to the basket. ‘And for your information, I’d take the lifebelt as long as you weren’t the one throwing it. Now, are we going to sort this problem out?’
He shrugged and stifled a yawn. ‘What’s there to sort out? You need a locum. I’m here.’
She straightened one of the chairs. ‘As far as I’m concerned, those two statements are not linked.’
He drew a breath and she lifted a hand to indicate that she hadn’t finished. ‘What I need, McKenna, is a serious doctor willing to do some serious work. What I don’t need is some image-hungry film-star medic with an over-inflated ego which is going to get in my way every time I try and see a patient.’
To her surprise and immense irritation, he smiled. An all-male, sexy smile that tugged something deep in her pelvis.
Damn, he irritated her.
Completely aware of that fact, he straightened up and strolled towards her, a dangerous gleam in his blue eyes as they swept her face. ‘Oh, boy, oh, boy, I really do unsettle you, don’t I, Riggs? Why is that, I wonder?’
‘Do you want a list?’ She backed away, trying to maintain her personal space. ‘And I can’t imagine this is exactly your idea of heaven either. Why did you agree to it?’
His blue eyes glittered. ‘I told you. Emotional blackmail on the part of my father. He was ill. He needed a holiday. He couldn’t find anyone else. That kind of thing. Tugs at the heart.’
‘You don’t have a heart.’
He grinned. ‘Ouch. Been reading my press cuttings again, Riggs?’
‘Hardly.’ Her glance was impatient. ‘The way you run your love life—or should I say sex life—is your business. But the practice is my business. Your dad certainly never mentioned to me that he was having trouble finding anyone.’
Sam gave a careless shrug. ‘Well, the fact is I’m here now. Make the most of me.’
She angled her head and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Excuse me? I’m supposed to be honoured that you’ve graced us with your presence? Let me tell you something, Dr Charm, I’m not at all convinced you’ll know a real patient when you see one. You see, here in real life surgery land, the problems aren’t staged.’
His gaze didn’t flicker. ‘Is that so?’
‘What happens when you deal with something that doesn’t make good television? Are you going to pass them through to me? Or do you grab a textbook?’
He examined his fingernails thoughtfully. ‘You really aren’t going to make this easy, are you, Riggs?’
She bit her lip. Somehow he made her feel small, childish. ‘It’s just that this practice is busy,’ she said wearily, sweeping her dark hair away from her face and risking eye contact. ‘I need proper help. Heavy-duty help.’
Sharp blue eyes searched hers. ‘My dad hasn’t been pulling his weight, has he?’
She didn’t trust herself not to give too much away so her own eyes slid from his, away from that penetrating gaze that saw too much. ‘Your dad is a good doctor. The best.’
‘But he hasn’t got the stamina that he used to,’ Sam said softly, running a hand over the back of his neck and giving a frustrated sigh. ‘Damn. It’s hard, watching your parents grow older. You have this vision of how they are and you never want it to change. I always knew this moment would come, but that doesn’t make it any easier.’
She frowned. ‘What moment?’
His hand dropped to his side and his glance was ironic. ‘The moment when I have to decide whether to go into the family business.’
‘You mean, take your father’s place?’ She stared at him in horror. ‘You can’t possibly be serious! You don’t need me to remind you that you couldn’t wait to leave Cornwall at the earliest opportunity. Even if we go along with your dad’s plan, it’s only short term. No one suggested it was for ever. He’s coming back …’
Sam looked at her. ‘And when he does, he’ll retire and spend his days fishing.’
Anna shook her head. ‘He won’t retire.’
Sam gave a sigh and stabbed long fingers through his dark hair. ‘He has to. We both know that. And you being stubborn about it isn’t going to change that fact.’ He paced over to the reception area. ‘But while he’s working out how to break the news to you that this is all too much for him and he doesn’t want to do it any more, we’ll get the place in order. And work out a plan. Things are going to have to change around here.’
Anna felt as though she’d been doused in cold water.
She didn’t want things to change. She loved the way the practice was now. She loved working with David. They understood each other.
Was Sam right? Was David really planning to tell her that he was going to retire from the practice?
She sank onto the nearest chair, her legs suddenly wobbly. It was a moment before she realised that Sam was pressing a glass of water into her hand.
‘Drink something,’ he said roughly. ‘You’ve obviously been working too hard. You look done in. You’re pale and you’ve got black rings under your eyes. You always were too stubborn to ask for help. I’m going to get rid of the film crew for now and then come back and we can work out what’s to be done.’
Anna took a sip of water and found her voice. ‘Whatever’s to be done,’ she muttered, ‘I really, really don’t want to do it with you, McKenna.’
He was the last person in the world that she could imagine developing a good working relationship with.
He laughed and rose to his feet in a fluid movement. ‘Likewise. But seeing as that is what fate has decreed, I’d say we’re both in for an interesting summer. Looks like we’re going to be meeting at dawn. Swords or pistols?’
CHAPTER TWO
SHE hadn’t changed a bit.
Sam strode out of the reception area and paused in the foyer, trying to get his emotions back under control before he faced the camera crew. Anna Riggs always did that to him. Drove him so mad that he needed to pump iron for a week in order to burn off the frustration coursing around his body. Thanks to some nifty avoidance tactics on both their parts, they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of years, but she was still the same hard-nosed, bossy control freak she’d always been. Not at all his kind of woman. He liked his women soft and gentle. Anna Riggs was about as soft as steel. And the fact that she had a pair of legs that stopped a man in his tracks didn’t do anything to change his opinion of her.
And he’d allowed himself to be manipulated into spending the summer with her.
He smashed a fist against the wall and inhaled deeply. Damn, she was right. They were going to kill each other. What had his father been thinking of, arranging for them to work together when he knew that there was so much animosity between them? When he knew that they were just so different? It was all very well saying that they didn’t need to see much of each other, but they were running a small practice. They were the only two doctors. How could they not see each other?
And how was he going to cope with Anna being confrontational and prickly with a camera stuck in his face all day?
He gritted his teeth and applied his brain to the problem.
The first thing was that the cameras certainly couldn’t be allowed free access, otherwise they could find themselves filming bloodshed. He’d have to stage each shoot carefully, making sure that Anna wasn’t within firing distance.
And the second thing was that he was going to work as independently as possible. Surely he could just see his patients and she could see hers? Did they really need to talk much?
And he wasn’t going to involve himself in the practice. He was going to do the job and then see what happened. And if his father decided to retire, he’d find him the best possible replacement. And it wasn’t going to be him. Hadn’t his parents always accepted that this wasn’t the practice for him? His life was in London. He’d chosen a different path. He didn’t want to work here permanently any more than Anna wanted him to.
Satisfied that, given sufficient thought, it would be possible to minimise the contact between them, he finally pushed open the glass door of the surgery and walked into the car park.
Glenda turned up, breathless and apologetic, five minutes before surgery started. She dropped her bag behind the reception desk and smoothed her hair, clearly flustered.
‘Are you OK?’ Anna frowned in concern and Glenda gave a bright smile.
‘I’m fine. Sorry I’m a bit late. I was caught up.’
Caught up with what? Anna wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time with a busy surgery about to start and Sam strolling across the reception area as if he’d worked here all his life.
How could he be so relaxed?
‘Hi, Glenda.’ He gave the receptionist a big hug and for some reason that she couldn’t quite identify Anna felt her tension rise.
It was just her that he needled and goaded. With everyone else he was capable of being extremely civilised. Warm. People in the village had always adored Sam McKenna and now he was a major TV personality they never stopped talking about him.
Glenda’s face softened. ‘Oh—Dr McKenna. How lovely to see you.’ She pulled away and tried to straighten her hair, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. ‘I suppose you’ll be helping our Anna. Good thing, too. She needs some help around here. She’s been struggling for far too long.’
Anna’s frown deepened. Glenda knew that she and Sam didn’t see eye to eye on anything. Why would she think it was a good thing that he’d arrived? Had she known that David had appointed him as locum?
Or was it just that she wasn’t concentrating because she had something else on her mind?
She hated to admit that Sam was right about anything, but suddenly Anna decided that a conversation with the receptionist was becoming a priority.
‘Busy surgery.’ Glenda flicked on the computer and checked the appointments, seeming more flustered than usual. ‘Open those doors and let the battle commence.’
Resolving to tackle Glenda in private later, Anna turned to Sam. ‘I know that this is throwing you in at the deep end, but can you take your father’s surgery? I expect you’ll know some of the patients anyway, and if you need to know anything that isn’t in the notes you can buzz through to me. Press 4 on your phone. Or I’m just next door.’
Sam lifted an eyebrow, his expression mocking. ‘Sure you don’t want to sit in with me, just to be sure that I don’t kill anyone?’
She gritted her teeth. ‘I don’t think you’re about to kill anyone.’
‘No.’ His voice was dry. ‘You just think my clinical skills are rustier than an old garden fork.’
‘I’m just aware that it’s probably a long time since you did a consultation that wasn’t staged. The way our surgeries run at the moment, there’s not a lot of time to look in a textbook between cases. And you only get the one take.’ Anna sucked in a breath. ‘I was trying to be helpful. Next time I won’t bother.’
‘Good idea. You worry about your own patients. I’ll worry about mine.’ Without giving her time to respond, Sam strode down the corridor towards his father’s consulting room.
‘I’m going to kill him.’ For the first time since she was five years old, Anna found herself wanting to stamp her foot. With an enormous effort of will she managed to restrict herself to an inward growl of frustration. ‘Well, at least we don’t need to change the name on his door,’ she muttered, and then turned to Glenda who was watching open-mouthed. ‘Don’t look like that.’
