Sam smiled and winked at Glenda. ‘At least I can cook.’
‘I can cook.’ Anna put her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed. How could she have wanted to kiss him? All she wanted to do at the moment was punch him for being so smug and infuriating. ‘It’s just I don’t choose to spend my time slaving over a hot stove for something that vanishes within seconds of being put on the table. It’s the ultimate waste of time.’
‘What you do to food can’t be described as cooking. Is that for me, Glenda?’ Sam leaned across the reception desk and picked up his post. ‘By the way, we’re filming the emergency clinic this morning. And then this afternoon I’m doing a piece to camera on the beach.’
‘Will you be wearing your wet suit and carrying a surfboard?’ Anna’s tone dripped sarcasm and he gave her a solemn look, one that he often used for the camera when he was addressing a serious topic.
‘No, I’m doing my caring, responsible doctor bit.’ Then he grinned and walked towards his father’s consulting room.
Glenda watched him go. ‘He’s amazing, isn’t he? Do you know that he spent the whole of yesterday evening installing gadgets in my house?’
Anna stared at her. ‘Gadgets?’
‘Yes.’ Glenda nodded and ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Smoke alarm, some fancy gas thing—and an alarm for Mum. And he shifted some furniture for me. He’s incredibly strong.’
Anna inhaled sharply. She didn’t want to think about Sam’s muscles. It brought back memories of his body pressed hard against hers. Memories she was trying extremely hard to forget.
She was still trying not to think about his muscles when Hilda Wakeman hurried in, carrying a large bag.
‘Hello, Hilda.’ Anna’s face brightened. Hilda ran the upmarket delicatessen on the quay and Anna was her most frequent customer. ‘How’s business?’
‘Brisk. I’ve been up since four-thirty, baking and cooking. It’s the only way to keep up with demand. I think tourists eat more than they used to.’ Hilda put the bags down. ‘Is Dr McKenna around?’
‘Just gone into surgery to catch up on some phone calls.’ Glenda reached for the phone. ‘I’ll buzz him
for you.’
‘No need to bother him. Just wanted to say thank you, that’s all.’ Hilda gave Anna a rueful smile. ‘He did me a good turn yesterday and I always repay a favour.’
It appeared that Sam had done everyone a good turn yesterday, Anna reflected. For a man who professed not to enjoy harbour life, he seemed to have thrown himself back into the community with a commendable amount of dedication.
But it wasn’t permanent, she reminded herself.
He was just playing at being a semi-rural GP. He’d be back to the bright lights and the glamour as soon as the summer was over and his father was back.
Sam walked out of his surgery, his face brightening when he saw Hilda. ‘My favourite cook!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘No more problems since yesterday?’
‘None.’ Hilda smiled warmly. ‘Thank goodness you were there.’ She turned to Anna. ‘Little Nancy, who works for me, cut her finger really badly. Fortunately Sam was passing and brought her up here and did the honours.’
‘She needed a couple of stitches. It was a nasty cut. Is she feeling all right today?’
‘I’ve got her working the till and taking it quietly. I did tell her to stay at home but, knowing how busy we are at the moment, she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s a good girl.’ Hilda picked up the bags. ‘Now, knowing that you’re living with Dr Riggs at the moment, I’m guessing you won’t be eating that well, so I’ve got some things for you here, Dr McKenna, so that you don’t have to worry about cooking tonight.’
Anna gritted her teeth. One of the drawbacks of living in a small village was that everyone knew everything about everyone else. Including the fact that she loathed cooking. ‘He isn’t living with me, Hilda—’
‘Well, you’re sharing a house, which amounts to the same thing,’ Hilda said briskly, peering into the bag to remind herself of the contents. ‘Marinaded olives, a delicious aubergine salad that the two of you can have as a starter, and—’
‘The two of us?’ Sam strolled towards her and hooked a finger into the bag. ‘Looks fantastic, Hilda. But who are you planning to feed?’
‘Well, you and Dr Riggs, of course. Stuck up there in that house on your own and both of you too busy to turn round, let alone cook.’ Hilda smacked the back of his hand sharply. ‘Don’t poke the food. It needs to go straight in the fridge in this heat otherwise you’ll be poisoned and blaming me. I’ve got my reputation to think of.’
Ignoring her stern expression, Sam peered into the bag and sniffed. ‘Smells fantastic. I think your reputation as the area’s best cook is still intact, Hilda.’
Glenda stood up, her eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Why don’t I pop all that in the fridge in the kitchen and you can take it home when you go? Dr Riggs will be delighted. She hates cooking, as you know, Hilda.’
‘Of course I know,’ Hilda said comfortably. ‘It’s the reason she stops by almost every night and picks up something for her dinner. But I thought I’d save you the trouble tonight. And I thought I’d make something a bit special by way of a thank you. There’s a lovely seafood pie and fresh apple crumble with clotted cream.’
Anna grunted, torn between pleasure at the anticipation of one of Hilda’s dinners and irritation at the fact that everyone was discussing her lack of culinary skills so freely. ‘I don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with the fact that I don’t cook. Does a woman always have to cook?’