Hired: GP and Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal Read Online Free

bike leaning frighteningly at an angle when they turned corners. There was probably no need to worry about the job, she decided resignedly. She’d be killed on this bike before she got to the surgery.
    They pulled up sharply in the drive of a graciouslooking stone-built house covered with scaffolding. Terry dismounted carefully, wondering if Atholl had deliberately driven the blessed machine at the speed of light to test her nerve or if it just seemed that way.
    ‘You OK?’ he asked.
    ‘Of course. I found it exhilarating,’ Terry retorted as she removed her helmet. She was damned if she’d let him believe she was a wimp!
    She turned to look around at the view—or as much as she could see in the driving rain. It was spectacular, dramatic and gloomy with black clouds looming over the Sound of Scuola. The mainland over the water was just a dark line on the horizon at the moment.
    ‘When the sky’s clear and there’s sunshine it’s a completely different picture—the sea is as blue as a periwinkle. And believe me,’ he added with a grin, ‘it does stop raining sometimes! Now, come in and get dry and perhaps we can discuss arrangements over coffee and some biscuits.’
    It was warm inside—the large hall did duty as a waiting room, and another room with half the wall cut out formed the reception area, with a severe-looking grey-haired woman behind the desk. She looked up as they came in.
    ‘You’ve taken your time, Atholl,’ she remarked sternly. ‘You’ve several calls to do before we finish tonight.’ She peered at his face. ‘And what have you done to your chin—fallen off your bike? I told you that machine was lethal…and your uncle hates you riding it.’
    ‘Nothing to do with the bike—just a fall, Isobel,’ he said lightly.
    ‘And what about this Dr Younger—where is he? You said you were going to meet him.’
    He put his hand behind Terry’s shoulder and drew her forward, saying drily, ‘This is Dr Younger—she just travelled up from London today. Terry, this is Isobel Nash, one of our receptionists.’
    Isobel stared back at Terry with surprise, taking in her bedraggled appearance wearing a leather jacket several sizes too big for her, and said bluntly, ‘But she’s a woman. We thought from the name that they were sending a man.’
    Terry sighed and looked from Atholl to Isobel. There seemed to be a general prejudice against females here!
    Atholl saw her expression and explained, ‘Apart from having to deal with the teenage lads I told you about, I thought a man might fit more easily into this job for, er, various reasons.’
    His glance flicked across to Isobel, who looked grimmer than ever and pursed her lips, saying, ‘It’s not only that—where’s the poor lass to sleep?’
    Terry put down her dripping rucksack. ‘Look, I’m sorry I’m not who you both thought I was, but do you mind if I get dry while you discuss this?’
    ‘Ah, yes, of course…’ Atholl’s expression was faintly embarrassed, as if he realised how rude he’d been. ‘Isobel, can you rustle up some tea and biscuits for us? We’ll go into my room, Terry, and you can dry out a bit. I’ll take the leather jacket.’
    Terry followed him feeling slightly deflated, her excitement in coming to the island rather dashed by the mixed welcome she’d received. It had been a long day’s journey from London and coupled with the drama at the quayside she felt emotionally drained and now worried that she’d come all this way for nothing. How easy would it be to work with someone who had been expecting to engage a man? She gave an inward shrug. She’d just have to show him that she was as good if not better than anyone else would have been.
    She took off the damp cardigan she’d been wearing under the borrowed coat, and handed it to Atholl, who draped it over a radiator. She rubbed her hair with the towel he offered and while she was drying herself he walked over to a filing cabinet, took out a file and started to