‘Shame.’ Her tone was a mixture of humour and weary acceptance. ‘This is one of those occasions when I need to refer to my handbook on teenagers. Stupidly, I packed it at the bottom of the suitcase. Next time it’s going in my handbag and if necessary I’ll ditch my purse. I apologise for her lack of manners.’ She flushed self-consciously and looked away. ‘You’re staring at me, Dr McKinley. You’re thinking I should have better control over my child.’

Yes, he was staring. Of course he was staring.

All the men on Glenmore were going to be staring.

Ryan realised that she was waiting for him to say something. ‘I’m thinking you can’t possibly be old enough to be that girl’s mother. Is she adopted?’ Damn. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

‘No, she’s all mine. I have sole responsibility for the behavioural problems. But it’s refreshing to hear I don’t look old enough. According to Lexi, I’m a dinosaur. And she’s probably right. I certainly feel past it—particularly right now, when I’m going to have to get firm with her in public. Oh, joy.’ The wind flipped a strand of hair across her face and she anchored it with her fingers. ‘You’re still staring, Dr McKinley. I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting.’

So was he.

He wasn’t ready to feel this. Wasn’t sure he wanted to feel this.

Mistrusting his emotions, Ryan ran a hand over his neck, wondering what had happened to his powers of speech. ‘You must have been a child bride. Either that or you have shares in Botox.’

‘Child bride.’ There was a wistful note to her voice, and something else that he couldn’t decipher. And then she lifted her eyebrows as the girl flounced off the ferry. ‘Well, that’s a first. She’s doing something I want her to do without a row. I wonder what made her co-operate. Lexi—’ she lifted her voice slightly ‘—come and meet Dr McKinley.’

A slender, moody teenager stomped towards them.

Ryan, who had never had any trouble with numbers, couldn’t work out how the girl in front of him could be this woman’s daughter. ‘Hi, there. Nice to meet you.’

Eyes exactly like her mother’s stared back at him. ‘Are you the one who gave my mum this job? You don’t look like anything like a doctor.’

Ryan wanted to say that Jenna didn’t look like the mother of a teenager, but he didn’t. ‘That’s because I didn’t have time to shave before I met the ferry.’ He rubbed his fingers over his roughened jaw. ‘I am a doctor. But I didn’t give your mother the job—that was my colleague, Dr McNeil.’