Marion Lennox - Second Chance With Her Island Doc

‘Of course.’ Leo’s voice was smooth, unfussed, as if the name meant nothing to him. Had he known she’d be in the country? He must have, she thought. For Tovahna this must have been big news.

It had been big news to her. Her cousin’s death. An inheritance so huge she could hardly take it in.

Leo.

‘Anna and I have met before.’ Leo still sounded calm. Professional. Like she was one of the scores of patients he saw each day. She was a fellow student he’d had a casual fling with ten years ago. No more.

A fellow student who’d inherited most of his country?

‘Anna.’ His voice gentled and he spoke in English. ‘Are you with us?’

‘I’m with you.’ She couldn’t keep ten years of resentment from her voice. ‘Unfortunately.’

‘Can you open your eyes?’

‘I can but I don’t want to.’

‘Because the light hurts?’

‘Because I don’t want to see you.’

And the man had the temerity to chuckle.

‘Still the firebrand I remember, then, Anna? Okay, keep those eyes closed and I’ll check out the rest.’

His hand was on her wrist and the touch made her...what? She should want to pull away.

She didn’t do that either.

He didn’t touch the pad on her head. He was doing an overall assessment, she thought, checking the IV line, blood pressure, the paramedic notes. Taking in the whole picture.

He was a fine doctor. She remembered that comment at their graduation ceremony. Leo hadn’t been there. As soon as his last exam was behind him he’d left to do a fast track course in surgery before heading home. To Tovahna. But at the graduation his name had been read out with pride by the head of the medical faculty. ‘Dr Leo Aretino has topped almost every class during his time here and he intends returning to serve his country. He’s a doctor we can be proud of, now and into the future.’

So she was in good hands. Leo’s hands.

She hurt.

‘Is it just your head?’ The laughter was gone now—he was all doctor—and that gentle voice she remembered so well was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. ‘Anna, have you hurt anything else?’

‘Just m-my head,’ she managed, and was ashamed it came out as a stammered whisper.

‘Do you remember what happened?’

‘There was a cavern with ancient pottery urns. I bent to see and then stood up.’ She managed to dredge up a bit of indignation but it was directed at herself. ‘Victoir said it was dangerous and I didn’t listen.’

‘The notes said you lost consciousness.’

‘Victoir said I was out of it for a few seconds, but all I can remember is bang and then feeling dizzy.’

Leo would be thinking of internal bleeding, she thought. Did they have the facilities to treat that here?

She’d read about Tovahna over the years—of course she had.

Still almost a feudal economy, with one family controlling much of the wealth. Most of the population pay rent to the Castlavaran family, and little is put back into infrastructure. Schools, hospitals, public services are minimal, to say the least.

Tourist sites reported on the medical facilities, too.

Travellers are advised to carry extra health insurance to cover transport to a neighbouring country. Medical services are basic. Complex medical situations often mean either evacuation or a less than satisfactory outcome.

A less than satisfactory outcome. Death?

‘If I did lose consciousness it was only for seconds,’ she said, more surely now. Wanting to reassure herself as well as him. ‘You know split heads bleed enough to make people think you’re at death’s door.’

‘Blood running down faces does seem to frighten onlookers,’ he agreed, and she heard the hint of humour return. It was the laughter she’d fallen for. Oh, Leo... ‘We’ll take X-rays to be sure, though.’

‘You have facilities?’

‘Amazingly, we have.’ The laughter was still there, but underneath...the trace of bitterness she’d heard only once but would remember for ever. Old accusations flooded back. ‘Your family has sucked our country dry...’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...’

‘Let’s take a look,’ he said, gentle again, and he moved the padded windcheater aside.

The paramedics had moved it to do a fast check but they’d replaced it and bound it fast, thinking it was best not to disturb things until they had a doctor’s back-up. Now the bleeding had stopped, and it had become sticky. She felt the windcheater tug on the dried blood in her hair.

She had no choice. Finally she opened her eyes.

Leo was right there, leaning over her. His face was maybe two hand widths from hers. This was a Leo who was older, his face creased a little, with age, with weather, his eyes seemingly deeper set.

But he was the same Leo. Those gorgeous brown eyes. The deep black, crinkly hair, a bit unkempt. The laughter lines. His mouth...

It was as if he was about to kiss...

Um...not. He was looking at her head, not into her eyes.

Oh, but those eyes...

She needed to get over herself.

She’d never intended seeing him. Once she’d got over the shock of her inheritance, her intention had been to come here fast, put the organisation of the estate firmly back into the hands of her cousin’s agent and then retreat. She knew the country was impoverished and she had no intention of making it more so. Her uncle and then her cousin had squirrelled away rents and profits. She needed to figure a way to channel them into charities, and then go home.

Home was in England, where she worked as a family doctor in a village a couple of hours south of London. The community was lovely and she loved her job. She had two beloved springer spaniels, dopy but fun. She’d recently broken up with a rather nice lawyer but they were still friends. She had lots of friends. Life was good.

This inheritance had been like a bombshell. Now, looking up into Leo’s face, it seemed even more so.

For the reason things had never progressed with her ‘rather nice lawyer’ was right here. After all this time, to have this memory messing with her life...

This memory? Leo.

But Leo wasn’t looking at her. His fingers—oh, she remembered those fingers—were carefully untangling the matted hair so he could see what he was dealing with.

‘This was some thump,’ he told her. ‘You’ll need stitches and a thorough check. Sorry, Anna, but we need to shave some of your hair.’

‘Nothing a scarf won’t hide,’ she said, trying for lightness. ‘It was my own fault.’

‘But you were down in the underground labyrinth.’

‘Just checking.’

‘Checking your inheritance.’

‘That’s right.’ How hard was that to say lightly?

‘I’m sorry about your cousin.’

‘Really?’ She was trying not to wince at the feel of his fingers. Not from pain, though. He was being gentle.

He always had been gentle.

‘Yanni’s death was unexpected,’ he told her, still carefully probing. ‘Although with the lifestyle he led...’

‘Eating and hoarding money,’ she said. ‘I’ve been told. My mother said his father—Mum’s brother—was the same.’

‘And he died of a heart attack as well,’ Leo said. ‘Twenty years apart, both their deaths almost instant. Your cousin was only thirty-eight, but with the lifestyle he led and his family history... There was nothing we could do.’

‘Hey, I’m not blaming you.’ She sighed. Her head really did hurt. ‘Leo, could you find someone else to stitch my head? To be honest, having you treating me is making me feel a whole lot worse. You don’t like anything about me and my family, right?’

‘I treated your cousin,’ he said, without answering her question. ‘Or I tried to. He refused to listen to concerns about cholesterol or weight. But I did my best. I’ll do my best with you.’