LITMIR.BIZ

      ISBN: 978 1 472 03084 9

      IN MCGILLIVRAY’S BED

      © 2004 Anne McAllister

      First Published in Great Britain in 2004

       Harlequin (UK) Limited

       1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF

      All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

      This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

      This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l.

      ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

       www.millsandboon.co.uk Version: 2020-08-18

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      For James, with love

      In memory of Belle,

      always the best

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ONE

      IT WASN’T exactly heaven.

      It sure as heck wasn’t Iowa.

      But it was as close as he was ever likely to get to perfection, Hugh McGillivray decided as he lounged back in the chair on his gently rocking boat, playing out his hand line, hoping for one last catch as he lazed away the end of the day in the setting Caribbean sun.

      At the stern another rod bobbed in its holder, increasing his odds. But even if he didn’t get any more fish, Hugh didn’t care. It had still been a perfect day. The sort of idyllic day he remembered from childhood—where anything could happen or nothing could—and each was equally welcome.

      They were the days he’d dreamed about during his years as a Navy pilot when rules and regulations and spit and polish had ruled his every waking hour. They were the days he’d been determined to enjoy again. They were the reason he’d left the Navy five years ago and come home to start up Fly Guy, his island charter business on tiny laid-back Pelican Cay.

      Most days flying passengers and cargo kept him busy moving among the islands and to the coastal cities of the States. Most days he was delighted to do it—enjoying the variety of people he met and places he went and jobs he took.

      “Never a dull moment,” he’d told his brother Lachlan cheerfully last week.

      But that wasn’t precisely true.

      Some days—some wonderful days—no one wanted to go anywhere, no one wanted to send anything, things were dull as ditch water. And Hugh loved those days even more because on those days he was totally free.

      Like today, he thought, smiling and flexing his shoulders, then jiggling his hand line just a bit, wiggling his toes and relishing the beauty of the sunset and the soft sea breeze that ruffled his hair.

      Of course, he could have been back at the shop helping his sister, Molly, work on the chopper engine or he could have been doing his paperwork or sending out his bills.

      But the papers and the bills would be there tomorrow. So would Molly.

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