Tempted by the Hot Highland Doc

For a few seconds she said nothing. He’d said too much.

All his insecurities from Zoe’s desertion flooded back into his brain as if he’d just flicked a switch. Her look of disdain and disapproval. Kristie’s face didn’t look like that—hers was a mixture of panic and...disappointment? She was disappointed he’d told her he loved her?

He was a fool. He should never have said anything. He’d just been overwhelmed with how proud he was of her that he’d obviously stepped across a whole host of boundaries he hadn’t realised were there.

There was a laugh beside them and he pulled his hand back sharply.

‘Oh, the Hot Highland Doc. I’d heard you were in the school.’

Rhuaridh turned to the teacher who’d just walked up beside them. ‘What?’

The teacher just kept smiling. ‘The kids talk about you all the time.’

He shook his head, thinking he hadn’t heard correctly. ‘What did you call me?’

‘The Hot Highland Doc. It’s a great title, isn’t it? Better than the Conscientious Curator or the Star-struck Astronaut. Pity the geography is off.’

She gave a shrug and kept walking on down the corridor.

Rhuaridh tried to process the words. He spun back to face Kristie. ‘She’s joking, right?’

Kristie looked a little sheepish. ‘I... I didn’t have any say in it.’ They were the first words she’d said since he’d told her he loved her.

He stepped back and looked down at himself. ‘Hot Highland Doc? That’s how you’ve described me to the world? Of all the ridiculous descriptions...’ He shook his head again. ‘And we’re nowhere near the Highlands!’

He was overreacting. He knew that. But right now he felt like a fool.

A few things clicked in his brain, comments he’d heard people say but hadn’t really picked up on at the time. ‘I can’t believe you’d let them do that.’ Then something else crossed his mind. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t warn me.’

* * *

Kristie breathed. The air was stuck somewhere in her throat. He’d just told her he loved her, then almost snatched it back by inferring they could never work. It was like giving her a giant heart-shaped balloon then popping it with a giant pin.

Her stomach was in knots. For a few seconds there she’d thought the world was perfect and their stars had aligned, but then Rhuaridh had kept talking. Was he talking himself out of having a relationship with her? Had she only been pleasant company while the filming was going on?

It was as if every defence automatically sprang into place. ‘It’s not up to me to tell you. The TV series hasn’t exactly been a secret. Most of the island watches it. If you weren’t such a social media recluse you would have picked up on it in the first month.’

Her brain was jumbled right now. Everything felt so muddled.

‘Was any of this real for you? You tell me you love me one second, then tell me how ridiculous our relationship is in the next? Who does that? What kind of a person does that sort of thing?’ The words were just spilling out in anger. No real thought because all she could feel right now was pain. All the things she’d considered for a half a second seemed futile now. Coming to Arran? Accepting the book deal and giving up the TV job? How on earth could she leave LA? She was crazy for even considering anything like that.

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes then his jaw clenched.

The anger kept building in her chest, turning into hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

She stepped back and looked him straight in the eye. Her words were tight. ‘And...we’re done. Goodbye, Rhuaridh.’ She had to get out of there. She had to get out of there now.

Her pink coat spun out as she turned around and strode down the corridor. Her heart squeezed tight in her chest, part hurt, part anger. Why on earth had she thought for even a second that this might work?

* * *

He watched her pink coat retreating, trying to work out what the hell had just happened. He’d told her he loved her and she’d walked away.

There was a movement at the end of the corridor. A camera. Thea.

It appeared he’d just been starring in his own worse nightmare.

Fury gripped his chest. He put his hands on his hips for a few seconds, staring down as he took a few deep breaths.

This had all been for nothing. He’d been crazy to think they could ever make this work.

Then he straightened his back and walked in the opposite direction.

CHAPTER TWELVE

April

‘I QUIT.’

‘You can’t quit. The show has just been syndicated.’

‘For once, Louie, listen to what I tell you. I quit. I’m not setting foot on that island again.’

‘Your contract says you are.’

‘So sue me.’

Kristie slammed the phone down just as it buzzed. She turned it over.

Can we talk?

She stared at the name. Rhuaridh. Her hand started to shake.

NO.

She typed it in capital letters.

* * *

Last time he’d been this tired he’d been a junior doctor on a twenty-four-hour shift. He’d been delayed at both Glasgow then London airports. The heat hit him as soon as he set foot on the tarmac in Los Angeles. Most people in the UK drove cars with gears. Rhuaridh had never driven an automatic and hadn’t quite realised it

almost drove himself, meaning when he put the car into reverse in the car park at the airport, he almost took out the row of cars behind him.

He was torn between trusting the air-conditioning and just putting down the window to let some air into the car. It was dry. Scratchy dry.

He hadn’t slept a wink on the flights. He’d been too busy thinking about the way they’d left things. Once he’d calmed down he’d tried to find her, but it seemed that she and Thea had caught the first ferry off the island.

He’d spent a few days replaying everything in his head. Trying to work out why things had gone so wrong.

Rhuaridh didn’t want to call. He hadn’t really wanted to text either, he just wanted to see her. He wanted to be in the same room as her. He wanted to talk to her.

He’d only sent the text once he’d landed, when he’d had a crazy second of doubt that he’d look like some kind of madman turning up at her door uninvited.

His brain wobbled at the number of lanes on the highway. At this rate he’d be lucky to make it there at all. Being called the Hot Highland Doc at least a dozen times between Arran and Los Angeles now seemed like some kind of weird irony. For the first time in his life complete strangers had recognised him. He’d been asked for autographs and selfies. People had asked him to speak so they could hear his accent. And there had been lots of questions about Kristie.

Most people had been completely complimentary—but he was sure that was because there was a lag time of six weeks between filming and the finished episode being shown. Once they saw the next episode that was scheduled—which would surely contain their fight and Kristie walking away—he was pretty sure he’d be toast the world over.

But here was the thing. He wasn’t worried about the rest of the world. He was only worried about her.

He pulled up outside an apartment complex in the Woodland Hills area of Los Angeles. It looked smart. Safe.