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you paranoid. Hemorrhagic fever ain’t pretty.” He checked his tone. Kali hadn’t said a word of judgment. She wasn’t the enemy. Just a GP doing her job. His job. Whatever.

      He started over. “Three months in protective gear, vigilant disinfections and then nothing. I’d never realized how often people sneeze on public transport before.” He tried for a nonchalant chortle and ended up coughing. Sexy. Not that he was trying to appeal to Kali on any level other than as a doctor or anything.

      “Right.” Kali took back the conversation’s reins before his thoughts went in too wayward a direction. “I take it you’ve spoken with everyone? The islanders?” she clarified.

      He swallowed. Not in so many words...

      * * *

      Kali watched Brodie’s Adam’s apple dip and surge, her eyes flicking up to his in time to see his gaze shift up to the right. So that was his tell.

      She was hoping he hadn’t felt her fingers shaking earlier when she had held his palm in hers. Countless self-defense courses hadn’t knocked the infinitesimal tremor out of her hands. But when Brodie had thrown the Ebola grenade into her lap years of medical training and logic had dictated that she’d be fine. Instinctually she knew that she had a jacked-up instinct for survival. It had never come to that, but if she needed to fight for her life she had the skills to give it her all.

      “Depends upon what you mean, exactly...by ‘spoken with.’” Brodie’s gaze returned to hers, his fingers dropping some air quotes into the space between them. As their eyes met—his such a clear blue—she wondered that anyone could doubt him. They were the most honest pair of eyes she had ever seen. She felt an unexpected hit of disappointment that she wouldn’t be here in Dunregan longer than a few weeks.

      She shook her head, reminding herself they were in the middle of a pretty important conversation.

      “So, you’ve not held a town hall meeting or anything like that?”

      Just the look on his face was enough to tell her he hadn’t.

      “Maybe you’ve had an article in the...what’s the local paper?”

      “The Dunregan Chronicle.”

      “I’m asking, not telling,” she reminded him when his tone lurched from informational to confrontational. “Have you had anything published? An article? An interview?”

      “No, I’ve been a bit busy burying my father, amongst other things,” Brodie snapped, instantly regretting it.

      Quit shooting the messenger, idiot!

      He gave Kali an apologetic glance. “I thought the ever-reliable gossip circuit on the island would cover all of my bases. Which it did. Just not in the way I’d thought.”

      “Look. If it’s all right, I’m going to stop you there,” Kali jumped in apologetically. “I’m really sorry to hear about your father. Now—not that the nuts and bolts of how this island works aren’t interesting—I really need to get a handle on how things work right here.” Kali flicked her thumb toward the front of the clinic. “If you’re happy to meet me after the clinic’s shut I’d love to hear all about it. Your work in Africa,” she qualified quickly. “It sounds fascinating.”

      “It was an unbelievable experience. I’ll never forget it.”

      Wow! The first person who’d actually seemed interested!

      “So...” She gave her shoulders a wriggle, as if to regroup.

      A wriggle inside his shirt, with more than a hint of shoulder slipping in and then out of the stretched neckline. A tug of attraction sent his thoughts careening off to a whole other part of his—er—brain? Another time, another place?

      Focus, man! The poor woman’s trying to speak with you.

      “If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t want me here either. It’s your practice! But I’m here to help, not hinder.”

      He nodded. Wise beyond her years. Those green eyes of her held untold stories. He’d been wrong to think otherwise.

      “Can we shake on it?” She thrust her hand forward, chin jutted upwards. Not in defiance, more in anticipation of a problem.

      He put his hand forward—the one he hadn’t burned—for a sound one-two shake.

      “Are we good?”

      “Yes, ma’am?” He affected an American accent and gave her a jaunty salute.

      Her eyes narrowed a bit.

      Okay, fine. He blew that one.

      “We’re good. I’ll steer clear of tea duty.”

      She furrowed her brow at him in response.

      Quit being such a jerk. Like she said, she’s here to help!

      She shifted past him in the corridor, leaving the slightest hint of jasmine in her wake. “I should probably go introduce myself up front.”

      “Yes—yeah. On you go. Caitlyn’s my niece and is about as much of a newcomer to the clinic as you are.”

      “Excellent.” Kali gave him a polite smile. “She and I can forge into unknown territory together, then. And don’t worry about the tea. I’m more of a coffee girl.”

      Her tone was bright, non-confrontational.

      “We’ve not given you much of a welcome, have we?”

      Kali rocked back on her heels with a squelch, not looking entirely sure how to respond until she saw the edges of Brodie’s lips tweak up into a slow but generous grin.

      “Ailsa’s great!” Kali shot back with her own cheeky grin. Adding, “I’ve yet to make a decision on the boss man...”

      “He’s a real piece of work.” Brodie was laughing now. “But he’s good at his job.”

      “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

      And he could see she meant it. He was a good doctor. A little shy on bedside manner, but—

      “Oh, and as for that hand of yours—you probably don’t need a bandage, but it might be a good idea to put some topical sulfonamide antibacterial cream on there. Although, as you probably know, some new studies suggest it might actually lengthen the healing time.”

      Brodie gave a grin as Kali shrugged off her own advice before tacking on, “I’m sure you know what’s best, Old Timer...” as she pushed through the swinging door into the front of the clinic.

      Kali gave as good as she got. Just as well, given his zigzagging moods.

      Brodie put his hand to the door to talk Caitlyn and Kali through their intro but stopped at his aunt’s less than subtle clearing of her throat.

      “And what can I help you with on this fine day, my dear Auntie?”

      “You’re not thinking of going in there and looming over Caitlyn, are you?”

      “No.”

      Yes.

      “Give the girl a chance. She’s only just out of school and she doesn’t need her uncle hovering over her every step of the way.”

      “What? Do you think I might accidentally breathe too much in the reception area and frighten away even more patients?”

      “Brodie McClellan.” Ailsa wagged a finger at him. “You’d best think twice about pushing so hard against the support system you have. Caitlyn’s here until she starts university in September—but after that... Only a few months for you to make your peace with everyone. Including...” she steeled her gaze at him “...Dr. O’Shea. She’s here to help, might I remind you?”

      “Help for something that’s not actually a problem?”

      “You know what I mean, Brodie. C’mon.”

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