Posh Doc Claims His Bride Read online

  Suddenly Cameron bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Is it really you? I never thought I’d see you again.”

  Meagan felt time stand still. She looked into his eyes and he grinned back at her. He raised an eyebrow as if challenging her to admit she remembered him, too. She knew without a shadow of a doubt he was thinking about that night.

  “I’m surprised you remember. It was a long time ago. And,” she couldn’t help adding, “that night obviously didn’t mean much to you.”

  He frowned again and rested his hand on her shoulder. “That’s where you’d be wrong, Meagan,” he said softly. “You are not a woman a man could easily forget.”

  Dear Reader,

  This is my third Medical Romance novel for Harlequin. It is set in the Scottish Western Isles, where my parents were born and brought up. I still have loads of family there, and my husband, children and I visit as often as we can.

  The islands haven’t changed as much as the rest of Scotland. They remain unspoiled and very beautiful. Gaelic is still spoken widely and everyone really does know and help everyone else.

  My hero, Cameron, is a man with a strong sense of responsibility for the people he lives and works with. He knows what is important in life and puts aside his needs for the greater good of the community. Nevertheless, he is still very much a man’s man.

  Meagan falls in love with the islands and the people almost as soon as she arrives. She’s never been able to forget about the man she met there years before, when she was a student on holiday, and is bowled over by him the moment she meets him again.

  Cameron and Meagan were meant to be together. They’ve both suffered in the years they have been apart, and it is only when they find each other again that they can put the past behind them.

  I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Who knows, maybe you will visit the islands yourself one day and discover why the region has such a hold on people’s hearts.

  Anne Fraser

  POSH DOC CLAIMS HIS BRIDE

  Anne Fraser

  POSH DOC CLAIMS HIS BRIDE

  Gu mo theaghlach an Uibhist gu h-araid

  Lachie—tapadh leibh.

  To my family in Uist—

  especially Lachie—thank you.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER ONE

  AS MEAGAN breathed in the heady aroma of peat smoke that drifted through her car window, she felt almost happy for the first time since Charlie had died. Maybe, just maybe, she could find some measure of peace and contentment on this remote Scottish island, which would be her home for the next few weeks and perhaps longer.

  But, she thought as she glanced at her watch, she wasn’t going to make a good first impression if she were late for her meeting with Dr MacDonald and his colleague. And she was going to be late unless the stream of cars that she had followed off the ferry went a bit faster than the ten miles an hour at which they were currently travelling. Incredibly, the cars in front slowed down even further—tourists unsure of the road, Meagan assessed exasperatedly.

  Deciding to take action, she gunned her powerful four-wheel-drive into second gear and, checking there was no oncoming traffic, began overtaking. It only took a fraction of second for her to realise her mistake—the cars had slowed down because the island road was reverting from two lanes to a single lane and there was no room to manoeuvre her Land Rover past the cars in front. Meagan did the only thing she could—she pumped her brakes and swung her vehicle hard to the left towards a lay-by. Everything would have still been OK had the recent rain not made the road greasy. Horrified, Meagan realised that she had lost traction and was heading for the ditch instead. At the last moment she closed her eyes, expecting the car to bounce or even flip, but—thank God—it was made of sterner stuff. Slowly it slid gently—almost gracefully—off the road and came to a rest with the nearside wheels on the tarmac and the offside wheels in the ditch, causing the car to tilt unnervingly to the side.

  As the engine stalled, Meagan sat in stunned shock. She moved her limbs tentatively but luckily she didn’t seem to have hurt herself. Before she had time to catch her breath, the passenger door was yanked open and a dark-haired man with concerned brown eyes leant in. Still shaking, she looked open-mouthed straight into the familiar set of eyes Cameron—the man who had occupied her thoughts for a long time after their first and only encounter all those years ago and whom she had never expected to see again, and certainly not within minutes of arriving on the island of Uist.

  ‘Are you OK? Have you hurt yourself?’ he asked, his voice cutting through her fog of confusion. Perhaps I am concussed, she thought, gingerly touching her forehead. Maybe that’s why I’m seeing Cameron in front of me. I’m concussed and mixing up the past with the present.

  Pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes for a second, Meagan made herself breathe in deeply and slowly before opening her eyes again. Keep calm, you’re fine, she told herself. As she looked once more into those gorgeous brown pools, she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. It was Cameron. Apart from a narrowing of his eyes, he showed no sign that he recognised her. Could it be he had forgotten her? It had been several years and she knew she had changed. But surely not that much?

  ‘Just sit still for a moment until we check you over,’ Cameron said, reaching over the passenger seat to take a closer look.

  ‘I’m fine. Thank you. A little shaken perhaps,’ she replied, brushing his hands away. She was mortified to hear her voice tremble. ‘Did anyone else go off the road?’ she added anxiously, craning her neck to peer over his shoulder.

  Reassured that she was unhurt, Cameron’s initial concern was replaced with anger. ‘No, but no thanks to you. What the bloody hell did you think you were doing, driving like a maniac on these roads? You could have killed yourself or worse still, someone else!’

  His tone made Meagan’s hackles rise. She knew she had been at fault, but who did he think he was to lecture her as if she were a child? She raised her chin and looked at him coolly. Could this angry, disdainful man really be the same one she had known before?

  ‘Point taken. I’m fine. You can get on your way now. I’ll manage,’ she said, uncomfortably aware of how reckless she had been.

  ‘Don’t be a fool, woman.’ Despite the words, Cameron’s voice had softened. ‘Come on, we’ll help you get you back on the road. Hop out and we’ll see what can be done.’

  Meagan, still a little dazed, put up no further argument and stepped out, to her horror immediately sinking up to her ankles in the boggy peat that lined the road. She looked down at her feet in dismay. The new shoes she had bought in a fit of extravagance to celebrate her new job had all but disappeared beneath the sludge. She tried to pull them out, first one then the other, almost overbalancing in the process, but her feet refused to budge. She was trapped.

  She thought that matters couldn’t get any worse until she became aware that a crowd of onlookers had gathered as the occupants of the other cars left their vehicles to watch the proceedings. She lifted her eyes and found those of her rescuer, which, although moments before had looked at her sternly, were now twinkling with merriment, and although he tried to disguise it, a smile tugged at the corners of his generous mouth.

  ‘Oh, go on, Cameron, help her out!’ someone called out.

  ‘Lend her your wellies, Cameron!’ suggested another.

  Meagan stood helplessly as Cameron, a broad grin lighting his face, stepped round to her side of the ca
r, reached over and plucked her bodily from her muddy trap. As her feet came loose, she was imprisoned for a moment against his chest. He was so tall that despite her height of five feet eight she was still forced to look up into his eyes, even with her feet dangling above the ground. Held captive, Meagan could feel the heat of his body and the hardness of his muscles through the thin fabric of his sweater. It had been a long time since a man had held her in his arms. It had been even longer since this man had held her, but suddenly it felt like yesterday. To her dismay she felt a shock of desire that made her toes curl. Confused and mortified, she pushed against his chest with her hands.

  Suddenly he bent his head and whispered in her ear, ‘Is it really you? I never thought I’d see you again.’

  Meagan felt time stand still. She looked into his eyes and he grinned back at her. He raised an eyebrow as if challenging her to admit she remembered him too. She knew without a shadow of doubt he was thinking about that night.

  ‘Would you please put me down?’ This was hardly the time or the place to reminisce about a night they had once shared. He was obviously enjoying making her look ridiculous. He held onto her for a second longer, looking into her eyes, amusement evident at her discomfort, before depositing her gently onto the road. As the audience clapped in appreciation of his gallantry, Meagan felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. This was not how she had intended to introduce herself to the local population! These people were to be her patients and she cringed at the thought that she’d be the object of discussion and amusement around a lot of kitchen tables that evening. Cheeks blazing, she lifted her head high and tried to look like the professional career-woman she was. Cameron leapt into her Land Rover and with one great spray of mud—a good bit of which landed on Meagan—had all four wheels firmly back on the road. Thankfully, most of the crowd started to make their way back to their cars, satisfied that the drama was over.

  Cameron left the engine running and walked back towards Meagan. Seeing her furiously trying to wipe some of the dirt off her suit, he laughed out loud.

  ‘Good God—did I do that? I’m really sorry. Here, can I help?’ He offered, taking a hankie from his jeans pocket. Gently tilting her chin with his fingertips, he wiped some of the mud from her face.

  Meagan found herself yet again staring into his eyes, feeling even more foolish and totally off kilter. She could feel his breath on her face and the masculine scent of his strong, lean body as he stood close to her. Once again she felt a sharp tug of sheer unadulterated lust. Damn the man. Incredibly, after all these years he still had the ability to make her feel weak at the knees. Clearly the fright had awakened some dormant hormones she had been suppressing, she thought wryly. That was all. It was a well-known fact that adrenaline had that effect on people.

  Desperate to regain her composure, she stepped back from Cameron, and managed a weak smile.

  ‘Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it. I’ve really got to go now—I’m horribly late for my appointment as it is.’ She was aware that she sounded as if she were at some afternoon tea party, but it was the best she could manage.

  ‘No problem,’ Cameron replied, his voice cooler this time, ‘but, seriously, you have to take it easy on these narrow roads. I know that’s a beast of a car you have, but brute strength in a vehicle is no substitute for a safe driver. Next time you—or some other unfortunate soul—might not be so lucky.’

  Feeling like a five-year-old who had been caught stealing biscuits, and not a little indignant, Meagan climbed back into the driver’s seat. She knew she had been at fault, but she was in no mood for a lecture from any man, no matter how helpful he had been, or how good-looking. And he was as gorgeous as she remembered, she couldn’t help admitting to herself.

  Liquid brown eyes and thick, black hair fell across his forehead, giving him an appealing air of vulnerability and sensuality that his solid frame belied. His broad shoulders were outlined in a V-neck black sweater that was thin enough for her to make out the contours of his muscular chest and a pair of faded blue jeans clung to his thighs in a most disconcerting manner. He had a stubble on his chin, as if he hadn’t shaved for a few days. His thigh-high waders were turned down to below his knees and Meagan thought he looked like a fisherman—some sort of swashbuckling pirate in another life. But that wasn’t what he had told her the night they had met.

  Images came flooding back—the feel of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his body. She closed her eyes against the memory. It didn’t matter how attractive he was, she was never going to get close to a man again—not after Charlie. Aware of the familiar ache that thinking of Charlie brought, she pushed him to the back of her mind. She was finished with men. In particular men who thought they were God’s gift to women. And Cameron clearly belonged to that camp. That night had obviously meant nothing to him—he had never tried to get in touch with her afterward. Had there been many women? Had she just been one forgettable encounter of many? Meagan felt her cheeks burn at the thought. With an attempt at a nonchalant wave to her rescuer, she drove off more sedately. Confused and shaken, she refused to think about the night she had met Cameron and instead turned her thoughts to the meeting ahead.

  Dr Colin MacDonald, or Dr Colin as she affectionately called him, and her father had been medical students together many years before and friends ever since. Dr Colin and his wife were going on an extended trip to Australia for four weeks, and when her father had told her that he was looking for a locum to help his partner while he was away, she had jumped at the chance. She had always wanted to return to Uist and hoped that some time on the peaceful and beautiful island on Scotland’s west coast would help heal whatever it was that Charlie’s death—and betrayal—seemed to have broken.

  Dr Colin had suggested that they meet at the surgery for an informal interview at six that evening. ‘It will just be Dr Stuart and myself, so it won’t be formal. Perhaps we can grab a bite to eat afterwards,’ he had suggested in his lilting Hebridean accent. ‘As you know, I’ll be leaving for Australia the next day, so unfortunately this will be the only chance the three of us will get to chat.’

  Meagan pulled into the surgery car park. She glanced at her watch. With all that had happened she was most definitely late. She took a few minutes to collect herself while studying the surgery and its surroundings. It had changed from the old croft house that she remembered from her childhood visits. Instead, brand-new premises had been built more in keeping with modern-day practice. Nevertheless Meagan felt a pang of regret for the old practice with its homely feeling.

  As she got out of the car, she glanced down at her feet. Around her ankles were matching rings of mud, like ankle-length boots. Her blouse and skirt were also spattered with brown. She’d have to sneak in, find the ladies and repair the damage before her interview. Late or not, there was no way she could present herself as an appropriate candidate for any job looking the way she did.

  Quickly she fished around in her suitcase for a clean blouse, and digging out a pair of knee-length boots she swapped them for her high heels. At least they’d cover the worst of the damage. She crept into the surgery, blouse in hand, hoping to locate the ladies before bumping into anyone.

  But it wasn’t to be. Dr Colin MacDonald was waiting for her in the reception area.

  ‘My dear girl,’ he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. ‘I was getting worried about you. I checked with the ferry company and they told me the ferry had arrived right on time. Was the traffic on the way here awful?’

  Thankfully he didn’t seem to require a reply. Meagan wasn’t sure she wanted him to know she had managed to go off the road so soon after her arrival.

  ‘I’m here now—that’s what matters,’ she said, returning his hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Dr Colin—and to be back on Uist again.’

  ‘Here,’ he said, holding her by the arms. ‘Let me get a good look at you—Dr Galbraith now, no less. The last time I saw you was at your wedding, when you were still slogging away as a junior doctor.�
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  Meagan must have looked stricken, as his voice immediately softened. Gathering her gently back into his arms, he soothed her, ‘My dear girl, I’m so sorry. Your father told me all about Charlie.’

  Meagan breathed in deeply, gently disengaging herself from his embrace.

  ‘I’m all right now, Dr Colin, really. It just hits me now and again. But I’m here and ready to start afresh! Or at least I will be in a few moments,’ she said, remembering the state of her clothes. She looked around anxiously, but there was no one else in sight. Perhaps Dr Stuart was waiting in one of the consulting rooms to start the meeting?

  ‘Dr Colin, if you don’t mind, could I nip into the ladies quickly? I don’t want to keep you and Dr Stuart waiting, but I need to freshen up.’

  Luckily Colin wasn’t the sort of man to pay much attention to a woman’s appearance. Meagan remembered his long-suffering wife Peggy complaining often that Colin would see patients in his slippers if it weren’t for her. And, right enough, Meagan couldn’t help noticing that his sweater was a bit worse for wear around the elbows. Nevertheless, Meagan knew Colin gave his patients his undivided attention and was loved in return.

  ‘You take your time, my dear,’ he said. ‘Dr Stuart’s been held up on his way back from a weekend’s fishing. He phoned me on the surgery phone just now—I can’t be doing with these portable things. Anyway, he’ll be here as soon as he can, but there’s plenty of time for you to sort yourself out and for me to show you our new premises, so don’t rush.’

  In the sanctuary of the ladies, Meagan repaired the damage as best she could. It was unfortunate, but not the end of the world, that she had been seen not looking her best. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. She had to admit she had neglected her appearance for a long time after Charlie’s death and besides working abroad, where there often hadn’t been even basic facilities to wash, it would have been impossible to be perfectly turned out, even if she’d cared to.