‘Maybe.’ He glanced towards her. ‘Or maybe we’ll both get some surprises. Life does that to you sometimes. Just when you think you’ve got it all worked out, the unexpected happens.’
He could say that again.
‘You coming back to Cornwall is certainly unexpected,’ she agreed, frowning as he handed her a glass. ‘What’s this?’
‘An extremely good Sancerre. Excellent for hot weather and it will go well with my stir-fry. It might also soften your mood.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my mood.’
He shot her a look. ‘Just try it.’
She did and had to stop herself moaning out loud with sheer pleasure. It was cool and sharp and the alcohol oozed into her tired bones with immediate effect.
‘It’s good.’
‘A lot of the things I do are good, Riggs. You ought to try a few more of them.’
She ignored the dig, set the glass down on the table and picked up the pen. ‘I thought I could start by running you through some of the clinics that we do. You can tell me what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want you working outside your comfort zone.’
‘You’re questioning my abilities as a doctor again, Riggs.’ He scraped the pan viciously to loosen the stir-fry. ‘And it’s only fair to tell you that it really ticks me off.’
She cursed men and their egos.
‘You’re being ridiculously sensitive,’ she said stiffly. ‘You haven’t worked as a proper doctor for so long it’s only natural that there are going to be areas that you’re less experienced in. Obstetrics, for example. We have a ridiculous number of teenage pregnancies here. And emergencies. You know how far it is to the local hospital and how many accidents we get on the beach every day in the summer. Our surgeries are crammed with them.’
‘You should run an emergency surgery for the tourists. It would save them traipsing miles to the hospital or filling up surgery time with minor accidents. I’ve suggested it to Dad before.’
So had she, on numerous occasions, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.
‘What we do now works perfectly well.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe. And maybe it would work even better if you designated some time to doing an emergency surgery. You should have done it ages ago.’
He was completely right. ‘We’ll end up encouraging the tourists to come and see us with every bump and bruise.’
‘That’s my father talking.’ His gaze flickered to hers, challenging. ‘You don’t really believe that.’
It was completely true. She didn’t believe that. She thought it was a great idea. Always had. ‘We’ll see. It’s only the start of the summer.’
‘Fine. But it’s the best plan.’
Anna frowned and tapped her pen on the pad. ‘Let’s look at practicalities. What this job is going to mean for you. It must be a while since you stitched a patient.’
‘I think if I rack my brains it will all come back to me. I don’t need tuition.’ He lifted the wok and divided the contents between two plates. ‘Here. Stop organising for one minute and eat.’
‘Organisation is what keeps this show running.’ But Anna pushed the pad to one side and reached for her wine. ‘So when did you learn to cook?’
He handed her a plate piled high with food and a fork. ‘I learned to cook when I decided that I liked eating decent food.’
‘I’m surprised you don’t just call on one of your women to cook whenever you’re hungry.’ She picked up her fork and stabbed some chicken and vegetables. ‘Isn’t that what primitive caveman is supposed to do?’
‘This particular caveman can find plenty of other occupations for his women.’ His eyes glittered slightly as he surveyed her over the rim of his glass. ‘I don’t want them wasting their energy in the kitchen.’
‘You’re a complete Neanderthal.’ She felt the colour rise in her face and hated herself for being so sensitive to his com
ments. Particularly as she knew they were designed to wind her up. ‘And I still think you should brush up on your emergency medicine.’
He topped up his glass. ‘If we ran an emergency clinic it would make great television. The type of medical problems you’re likely to encounter on your average beach holiday.’