Six Sexy Doctors Part 2

CHAPTER TWO

IT TOOK Meagan a couple of seconds to realise where she was when she woke up the next morning. It had been dark when Colin had dropped her off the night before and, exhausted, she had gone straight to bed. Despite her tiredness, she had lain awake, thinking about Cameron. Why had he never tried to get in touch with her? She had been so sure that he had felt the same way she had that night they had met. She had waited for him to contact her, but eventually anticipation had turned into disappointment with the realisation he was never going to. She had been badly mistaken about him and the kind of man he was. Now he was here and they’d be working together and, God, help her, he still made her feel week at the knees.

The day stretched before her to do as she pleased. Determined to make the most of it, she jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. Once she was dressed she would spend the day re-exploring the island and refamiliarising herself with her surroundings.

The cottage Colin had arranged for her was a renovated black house. Although it was tiny—with a small bedroom on one side and a kitchen/living room on the other and a bathroom in the middle—it was very cosy. There was just about enough room for her and her suitcases—if she was very organised. The sitting room had an open fire that Meagan surveyed with some trepidation. She hadn’t a clue how to go about setting and lighting a fire. Next to the fire, which had been set ready to light, was a basket of peat and some kindling. The same person had also left a basket of provisions, including, Meagan noted, coffee, milk, scones and even pancakes for her breakfast.

Meagan dressed warmly after her quick shower, surveying her appearance in the long mirror in the corner of her bedroom. She had pulled on her old but still stylish jeans, which she knew emphasised her long legs and slim figure. She straightened her hair until it fell to her shoulders in a sleek curtain and darkened her lashes with black mascara. That was all the make-up she normally wore, unless she was going out somewhere in the evening when she would add glossy red lipstick. To complete her outfit for walking the moors, she grabbed her green jacket in case the weather changed to rain, and pulled on her favourite leather boots.

Stepping out the front door, she gasped with surprise and pleasure. It had been dark when she had arrived the night before and she hadn’t been aware of how her new home was situated. She was delighted to see that the house had been built on a piece of land that projected into the sea, giving the impression that it was on its own small island. The day was glorious. Bright sunlight reflected on the water, which hugged the shore on three sides, turning it from deep blue to aquamarine where the waves lapped the shore. She listened to the sensuous sound of the waves gently washing over the rocks and a the feeling of peace wash over her.

The back of the house was sheltered from the wind by some rowan trees and had the best view. Meagan could imagine spending her evenings sitting outside, watching the wildlife as the sun went down. At the front was a rough drive leading up to the main road. A few sheep grazed, lazily turning disinterested eyes on Meagan before returning their attention to the grass. The place was perfect. Perhaps here she could at last really begin to put the past behind her.

Hearing a car’s engine, Meagan looked around and watched a battered Land Rover making its way down the track to the house. The car pulled up and a tall, elegant woman wearing faded jeans and wellingtons got out.

The woman eyed Meagan for a moment before extending a hand.

‘Hi, you must be Dr Galbraith,’ she said. ‘I’m Rachel—from Grimsay House.’ She indicated an imposing building on the top of the hill with a nod of her head.

She was one of the most beautiful women Meagan had ever seen. Long blonde hair hung to her shoulders, framing high cheekbones and sculpted lips. Violet eyes were accentuated with thick dark lashes that looked as if they owed nothing to mascara. Beside her, Meagan felt plain if not downright dowdy.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Meagan took the proffered hand, aware of the briefest pressure before her hand was relinquished.

‘I’m sorry to impose on your day off but Jessie—the cook—her daughter’s not feeling well and she wanted Cameron to have a look at her. Unfortunately he’s tied up with another patient. He asked us to ring you instead, but I thought I may as well pop down in person and give you a lift. If you’re free, that is?’ Cool eyes regarded Meagan steadily. Meagan surmised that this was a woman who expected people to do as she asked.

‘I’d be happy to see her. If you could give me a moment, I’ll get my bag.’

Uninvited, Rachel followed her inside the house.

‘Its years since I was in here,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten how tiny it is. It used to be a staff cottage.’

‘I think its lovely,’ Meagan said, collecting her bag from the sitting room. ‘Absolutely perfect.’ Inexplicably Meagan felt defensive about her new home. ‘Shall we go?’

The journey took just a few minutes. There was only enough time for Rachel to point a few landmarks out to Meagan before they were at their destination.

As Rachel swung the Land Rover into the large gravel car park of Grimsay House, Meagan marvelled at the majestic building before her. To describe it as a house was rather like referring to Mount Vesuvius as a steaming kettle. Two elegant stone columns framed wide stone steps leading up to a beautiful oak door at the entrance. Honey-coloured stonework hinted at the imposing age of the building. Meagan noted gentle puffs of smoke emanating from the large gable chimneys at either end of the house, which was framed by a breathtaking tangle of trees, shrubs and wildflowers. Dragging her eyes away, Meagan gathered up her medical bag as she followed Rachel inside the house and into the flag-stoned entrance hall.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Meagan said, taking in the elegant furniture and ornate framed portraits that graced the walls.

‘I suppose,’ Rachel said dismissively. ‘Can’t say I notice it much any more. Jessie and Effie are up here.’

Meagan followed Rachel up two flights of stairs into a bedroom that led off a narrow hall. The bedroom was light and airy and pleasantly furnished. On the large bed covered with a pink quilt on which elephants and rabbits gambolled, lay a small, pale child of around seven. Sitting next to the child, holding a book, sat a woman in her twenties who Meagan took to be Effie’s mother.

‘This is Jessie and her daughter Effie. Jessie, Effie—Dr Galbraith,’ Rachel made the introductions. She then strode towards the window and looked out, turning her back on the proceedings.

Jessie stood up. ‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ Jessie said. ‘Effie’s been complaining of stomach ache since the early hours of this morning. I’ve given her paracetamol but it hasn’t helped. Now she’s being sick.’ Jessie spoke quickly, clearly anxious. She turned to her daughter, who was watching Meagan with solemn eyes. ‘Effie, Dr Galbraith is here to see if we can make you better,’ Jessie continued.

Meagan approached the bed and smiled warmly at the young girl. Crouching next to her, she reached over to stroke the large pink cuddly toy the child was clutching.

‘A girl after my own heart, I see,’ she said soothingly. ‘You know, I had a bunny rabbit just like that when I was your age.’

Effie peeked out at Meagan from behind the rabbit. ‘My tummy hurts,’ she said plaintively, ‘and I’ve been sick. Four times,’ she added proudly.

‘Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that. If you lie down flat, I’d like to feel your tummy.’

Uncertainly, Effie looked towards Jessie.

‘Go on, mo ghaol,’ Jessie encouraged.

The child responded, sliding down in bed and pulling up her pyjama top for Meagan.

Meagan examined her, gently feeling for any abdominal tenderness and looking down the child’s throat for signs of inflammation. She was unable to find any abnormality and when she checked the child’s pulse and temperature she was pleased to find both normal.

‘OK, Effie, that’s you. I don’t think there is anything to worry about, but I’m going to ask your mummy to keep you in bed for the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow. Don’t try and eat anything but take small sips of water whenever you can manage it and I’ll pop back tomorrow to see how you are.’

Turning towards Jessie, Meagan signalled to her to step outside with her.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about—probably a bug that’s going around. I’ll leave you my telephone numbers. Please, don’t hesitate to call if there’s any change in Effie’s condition. But I suspect in a day or two she’ll be as right as rain.’

Jessie sighed with relief. ‘Oh, thank goodness. I know it’s silly to worry, but she’s all I’ve got.’

‘Just keep her in bed and let her sleep,’ Meagan said. ‘I’ll be surprised if she’s not back to her usual self by tomorrow.’

As Meagan turned to go, Jessie said, ‘Do you have time for a cup of tea? I know I could do with one! I’ll just check with Rachel that she’s happy to sit with Effie for a bit,’ she said, popping her head back round the door.

Apparently reassured that her presence wasn’t needed, she led Meagan back downstairs.

‘Don’t worry about tea,’ Meagan said. ‘I’m sure you have plenty to be getting on with.’

‘I could do with a cup. I’ve been up most of the night.’ She yawned. ‘Really, you’d be doing me a favour. A chat would stop me conking out. I’ve still got Sunday lunch to prepare.’

Following Jessie into the kitchen at the back of the house, Meagan took a seat at the large oak table that dominated the centre of the room. Black and white tiles patterned the floor and at centre stage stood a double-oven Aga. Meagan waited silently as Jessie bustled about the kitchen, spooning tea into a pot and setting cups out onto a tray. Now that anxiety no longer furrowed her face, Meagan could see that she was very pretty, her curly auburn hair framing a delicate face with large, gentle green eyes.

‘The house is gorgeous. I gather from Rachel you are the cook here.’

Jessie nodded, placing a china cup in front of Meagan and pushing the sugar bowl and milk jug towards her. ‘Effie and I love it. It’s been in the family for generations—and it’s hardly a house, more like a manor really. But the late laird never liked anyone to refer to it as such. He didn’t want the locals to think he thought himself or anyone else in his family above them. Unfortunately, when he died inheritance tax took a fair chunk of the family fortune, and it’s been a bit of a struggle for them to keep the estate running. But it’s a labour of love for Cameron and Simon, rather than a millstone around their necks.’ Her tone softened. ‘Their mother died years ago, when the children were very young, poor souls. So apart from them, there’s myself and Mrs McLeod, the housekeeper—she looks after your cottage too. The rest of the staff come in on a daily basis.’

Meagan was confused. What did Cameron have to do with Grimsay House?

Jessie continued chatting while she poured the tea and buttered some scones. ‘Grimsay House is open to visitors during the summer. It helps make ends meet and we have shooting and fishing parties coming to stay too. We also put on the odd ceilidh in the grand hall as well as an end-of-summer ball, which is actually at the end of the month. All in all it keeps me pretty busy.’

‘Er, Jessie. You mentioned Cameron. Surely you don’t mean Dr Stuart?’

Jessie looked at Meagan keenly. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ She must have seen Meagan’s look of confusion. ‘Cameron—Dr Stuart—being the eldest son, inherited the estate from his father. Our own Dr Stuart is actually Lord Grimsay of Grimsay house.’ Seeing the look of shock on Meagan’s face, she gave a low whistle. ‘You really didn’t know, did you? Well, I guess there is no reason why you should. Cameron keeps the two sides of his life pretty separate. He always wanted to be a doctor. Ever since he was a small boy. But since his father died, he has taken on the responsibilities he inherited. Somehow he manages the two roles.’

Meagan almost choked on her tea. Cameron. A lord! As if it hadn’t been a big enough shock finding out he was her colleague—now this. He hadn’t said anything about it that night, so on top of everything he hadn’t even been honest with her. Was that why he had never contacted her? What would a lord want with a student, a nobody? Hardly a long-term prospect for someone in his position. She hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours and the shocks kept coming.

Meagan’s mind whirled. ‘No, I didn’t know.’ She paused, even more confused. And where did the beautiful Rachel fit in to all of this? Aware that Jessie was looking at her with anticipation, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. ‘But isn’t it unusual for someone in his position to have a career?’

‘Not really. Not up here. The family has always lived as part of the community. Every so often they go to London, and of course they have friends up. But if you knew Cameron, you’d know he isn’t the kind of man to want an idle life. He has to be doing something. Something that really matters.’

Jessie passed Meagan a scone. Meagan bit into one, realising as she did so that she hadn’t had breakfast before Rachel had appeared and was suddenly ravenous. Munching the scone gave her a little time to absorb what Jessie had just told her.

‘These are delicious, Jessie,’ she said. ‘Someone left some pancakes for me at the cottage—were they yours?’

‘Yes. Mrs Macleod and I thought you might like some to welcome you. I bake a batch at least once a day. Apart from the visitors, there is always someone prowling around the kitchen. She stopped, cocking an ear. ‘Speaking of which, that sounds like Cameron.’

Meagan looked around, surprised. Sure enough, Jessie was right. Cameron came into the kitchen, sniffing the air appreciatively. ‘Ha, in the nick of time.’ He reached for one of the scones.

Jessie batted his hand away with a playful tap. ‘No, you don’t. I’ve only just made enough for this afternoon. I only gave Dr Galbraith one seeing as she was kind enough to give up her free morning to come and see Effie.’

‘And how is Effie?’ Cameron asked. He waited until Jessie had turned to fill the kettle again before filching a scone.

‘She’s fine,’ Meagan answered. ‘Just an upset tummy. I’ve recommended a day in bed. I expect she’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

‘Rachel’s keeping her company while I look after Dr Galbraith. I’ll take over in a minute.’

Meagan noticed Cameron’s raised brow at the mention of Rachel’s name.

‘It was either that or she’d have to finish the baking.’ Jessie and Cameron shared a smile.

‘Rachel baking? Never in a month of Sundays.’ He swallowed the last of his scone. ‘I’ll pop in and see Effie, shall I?’ Cameron suggested.

‘Oh, don’t worry. If Dr Galbraith thinks she’s OK then that’s all right by me. If you go up, she’ll start to think there’s something really wrong.’

‘In that case, why don’t I show Meagan around?’

Meagan started. ‘Oh, please. Don’t put yourself to any trouble. I’m sure you have enough to do. I can look around on my own another time—if that’s all right?’ She didn’t know why, but she was loath to be alone with Cameron. She suddenly felt awkward in his presence.

Cameron ignored Meagan’s protest and glanced down at her feet with the air of an expert.

‘Those boots are no use for walking here. There’s a pair of wellingtons in the hall. They belong to Rachel. You look as if you have roughly the same size feet. I’m sure she’ll be happy for you to borrow them.’

Meagan wasn’t sure that Rachel was the kind of woman who was happy to share anything with another woman, even a pair of wellington boots, but as Cameron took hold of her elbow and gently but firmly propelled her out of the kitchen, she decided for the moment at least it was better to take the line of least resistance. There would be time later to show Cameron Stuart she wasn’t a woman who took kindly to being bossed around.

The air smelled of the sea and the sun felt warm on her face as they made their way from the back of the house and headed up the hill. She had tried on Rachel’s wellington boots, but they had proved much too small. Cameron had forced her to try on a pair of his, but just like Goldilocks she had found them much too big. Just when Meagan had thought with a sigh of relief that the walk would have to be abandoned, Cameron had triumphantly produced a pair belonging to one of the farm workers that, while a little large, would do. As Meagan clomped along beside Cameron, she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

She felt the silence between them was awkward. Should she bring up that night they had shared all those years ago? But what would she—could she—say? Perhaps he didn’t want to be reminded of it. Instead, she decided to stay on safer ground.

‘Jessie was telling me a little bit about the house and how it’s been in the family for generations. I had no idea who you were.’

Cameron narrowed his eyes as her. ‘Does it make a difference? As far as you and the locals are concerned, I’m Dr Stuart, or just Cameron. My other life—this—’ he indicated the land with a sweep of his hand ‘—has nothing to do with my medical life. I think of myself as lucky. To be able to do the job I love in a place I love.’

As they reached the top of the hill, Cameron turned to her and said, ‘Enough about me. What about you? I always wondered if you’d succeeded in becoming a doctor, although I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t let anything stand in your way. You appeared to be a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.’ He turned the full gaze of his interested brown eyes on her and gave her an appraising look. ‘I have to say it was a bit of a surprise to find you on the side of the road.’ He grinned then frowned. ‘And an even bigger shock to find out we’d be working together.’

Meagan was relieved that he had brought it up. It saved her from having to decide if, and how, to raise the topic. However, his words were a reminder of how little importance he had placed on their first meeting.

‘You hid it well, then,’ Meagan retorted. ‘Anyway, 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.’

But why did you never contact to me? Meagan wanted to ask. If it meant anything at all? But pride stilled the words. He hadn’t contacted her. She had meant nothing to him. She would never let him see how much it had hurt her.

Cameron watched as the emotions chased across Meagan’s face. He had hurt her, he knew that. She was as beautiful as he remembered but there was sadness and a reticence that hadn’t been there in the younger, passionate Meagan. Life had changed her. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew, in time, he would find out. This woman still had the ability to make his pulse race as no other woman had before or since. And there had been many women. Heaven knew, he was no saint but he had felt all those years before and still felt that there was something different about this woman.

‘I know what I said back then. And I meant it,’ Cameron said softly. ‘I was going to contact you. But then…well, I guess you could say life got in the way.’ He looked into the distance, his eyes bleak. Then it was as if a shutter came down. Almost absent-mindedly he reached for her arm, stroking the soft flesh of her inner arm with his roughened thumb. ‘I never thought I would see you again. Tell me about yourself. You’re married now.’ He paused, almost as if he didn’t want to ask the next question. ‘Are you happy?’ he asked softly.

At his touch Meagan felt a shiver of desire go through her—there was still something about this man that set her nerve endings on fire. He made her feel wanted and attractive again. As if the shock of Charlie’s death in a car accident hadn’t been enough, finding out that he had been killed with his mistress beside him had almost destroyed her. She had known that their marriage had not been happy for some time, but she had never suspected that he was being unfaithful to her. The knowledge had made her lose confidence, not just in her ability to trust people but in herself and her own femininity. Now, for the first time in the two years since Charlie had died, she was aware of herself once more as a desirable woman. Meagan had to admit to herself that it felt good—but it was all wrong. She didn’t want to feel anything for another man ever again. Least of all this one. She seemed destined to fall for the wrong men. Well, she was older and wiser now. She knew better than to give her heart to any man.

In her confusion, Meagan jerked away from him and, catching her foot on a rock, stumbled. Cameron caught her just before she fell and pulled her against him. She could smell the faint tang of his aftershave and feel the rough wool of his sweater against her cheek. For a moment she let herself rest against him, feeling safe for the first time in two years.

‘What is it?’ he asked, tipping her chin up with one finger so he could see more clearly into her eyes.

The kindness of his voice along with the memories of Charlie caused her eyes to fill and he traced the track of a tear down her cheek with his thumb.

Pulling away, Meagan blinked away the tears. ‘I was married—but he died. In a car accident.’

‘Oh, Meagan. I am so sorry,’ Cameron said. ‘Colin didn’t tell me very much about the new locum. All he told me was that you were the daughter of a close friend. He never said much more and I never asked.’

‘I asked him not to say anything. I’ve had enough of people’s pity. Part of the attraction about coming here was that people wouldn’t know anything about me. I wanted it to be a new start…’ She tailed off.

‘Hey, hey,’ he said softly. ‘It’s OK. I won’t tell anyone. We doctors are used to keeping other people’s secrets. Although—’ he shook his head and smiled ruefully ‘—you’ll find out soon enough it’s almost impossible to keep a secret on this island. The locals have a habit of finding things out. And as for us…um…meeting before, I think that’s also best kept in the past and between us, don’t you?’

As Meagan looked into his eyes her thoughts flashed back to their ‘meeting’, as he had put it.

She remembered every detail. She had wondered for years about the man she had known simply as Cameron. Then she had met Charlie and buried her memories. Now, with Cameron here in front of her once more, she let the memories come flooding back.

She had been in her final year of medicine, spending her last free summer sailing around the Western Isles. It had been the last night of the crew’s stay on Uist before they were due to sail home. By chance they had discovered that there was to be a beach barbeque at Coola Bay—a fabulous stretch of golden, sandy beach on the north side of the island.

By the time they arrived at the barbeque, the sun was beginning to sink, turning the sky pink and purple. A large crowd had already assembled and several groups stood around fires, laughing and chatting. Meagan sniffed the air appreciatively as the smell of sizzling sausages and chicken scented the sea air.

Meagan left her circle of friends, wanting to savour her last sunset on the island. As the sun melted into the sea, her attention was drawn to a young man who stood in a group of lively partygoers. It wasn’t simply that he was tall, topping everyone else by a good couple of inches, or good-looking—although he was both—there was something in his manner that made him stand out from the crowd. He seemed to radiate confidence and self-assurance.

Meagan watched him surreptitiously from beneath her lashes. He had thick black hair worn slightly too long so that it flopped over one eye. As he laughed and joked with his friends Meagan could see dimples in both cheeks which appeared, disappeared and reappeared again.

He must have become aware of her staring because all at once he turned his gaze on her and slowly let his left eyelid droop in a wink. She had never seen anything quite as sexy and was mortified to feel her cheeks go pink. Clearly amused by her discomfort, his smile broadened into a grin, emphasising his dimples. After holding her gaze for a moment, he let his eyes travel slowly over her slim body, resting on her breasts before continuing down her shapely legs and back up to her eyes. Despite her annoyance at his blatant evaluation, Meagan felt herself unable to move under his scrutiny. Then with a quip to his friends that made them laugh, he began to make his way over to her with long easy strides.

Hot with confusion, Meagan turned on her heel, seeking the relative safety of her friends, but before she had taken more than a couple of steps she felt a strong grip on her upper arm.

‘Not thinking of leaving, are you?’ murmured a soft, deep voice in her ear. Taking a gulp of air to steady her breathing, Meagan turned towards him, but to her consternation found herself so close she could smell the soap on his skin and the sea in his hair.

‘Don’t go’ was all he said.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Meagan. Cameron didn’t leave her side, giving her his undivided attention and flirting outrageously, demanding that she dance only with him to the swirling tunes that were played by guests who had brought instruments with them.

Eventually the tempo of the music slowed and he pulled Meagan close, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling hers in return as he trickled his fingers along her back. Powerless to resist, Meagan let her body melt into his and raised her face, staring into his eyes, which reflected the flickering light of the bonfires around them.

With a muttered cry of something in Gaelic, he bent his head to hers and claimed her lips with kisses that were gentle at first but, as she responded, grew increasingly demanding.

She could feel his body grow hard with his desire and her own body responded as if she had no control over it as she clung to him, seeking more and more of him until finally, with a groan, he pulled away from her and, taking her by the hand, said softly, ‘Come with me.’

There was something about him that made Meagan feel less than her nineteen years. It wasn’t just that he was older—four or five years older than her, she guessed. Perhaps it was because he seemed to have a confidence in his own sexuality that few, if any, men of her acquaintance had.

Meagan had been pursued by many men in her life. She knew men found her attractive with her coal-black hair, which she had inherited from her Italian mother, along with her willowy frame and wide mouth. On the other hand, she had inherited her pale complexion, height and arresting green eyes from her Scottish father. It all added up to a combination that drew looks wherever Meagan went, and judging by the admiring looks she was getting from her companion he also found the combination to his liking. But although Meagan was conscious of the effect she had on men, she had little time for love affairs. She had her future mapped out and nothing and no one was going to stand in the way of her achieving her dreams.

But until that night no other man had made her feel as if she wanted to give herself up, to lose herself in their arms in the way that he did, despite having just met him. He made her feel that the rest of the world had ceased to exist, as if the future was unimportant, that it was only the here and now that mattered.

And so she went with him along the edge of the shore where the waves lapped at their feet, until they found a place deep in the dunes and hidden from view, where he lowered her gently to the ground. He kissed her eyelids, her ear lobes, and then down to her neck before finding her mouth, kissing her with a hunger that took Meagan’s breath away.

Never before had Meagan felt her body respond in such a manner. Almost against her will she arched her body to his, needing to feel the length of his body hard against hers. Suddenly he pulled away.

‘You’ve never made love to a man before, have you?’ he said, his voice full of wonder.

Meagan was mortified. Was her lack of experience so obvious? But it was true. She had never, before that night, found a man she wanted to give herself to. She knew when she did finally lose her virginity she wanted it to mean something. She wanted it to be special. And it wasn’t as if she’d had many boyfriends. Her studies and her sailing had kept her too busy.

‘Its ridiculous, isn’t it? A nineteen-year-old virgin in this day and age?’ She sat up and hugged her knees.

‘Not ridiculous,’ he said. ‘Kind of wonderful.’ He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. ‘You’re kind of wonderful,’ he said, ‘but I think we should get to know one another before we go any further. There will be a right time for us, but it’s not yet.’ He pulled her back into his arms, and they lay there for the rest of the evening with the feel of the gentle night breeze on their skin. As she told him about her dreams and the sacrifices she’d had to make, he held her and listened. He hadn’t said much, only that he too had studied medicine. That he worked in London and was completing his higher training. She never even found out his last name.

And all too soon she had had to leave. The sun was just beginning to make the sky pink and she and her companions were sailing on the high tide.

He held her tightly, kissing her hair and murmuring endearments.