Or compassion, Jessie guessed, as she slowly rose to a standing position. Niall Mountmarche’s face was flint hard, repellent with anger.

Even as she found her feet and stood before him, he still made her feel tiny.

And scared stiff.

The man’s hands were gripping his gun as though he’d love to use it. He wasn’t pointing the thing at her-but it didn’t make it one whit less threatening.

‘G-good morning,’ she stammered.

The Ogre of Barega was looking at the girl before him as though she was a repugnant form of insect life. Jessie flushed in mortification. His look was nothing short of contemptuous.

Well, Niall Mountmarche wasn’t to know that Jessie was the island’s vet. She hardly looked professional, she thought grimly. The young vet was wearing shorts and sneakers; her knees were dust-caked from crawling along the furrowed ground and her face was probably the same. Her shoulder-length curls had caught on briars and were tangled and wild.

Niall Mountmarche didn’t know why Jess was on his land. Maybe he was right to look like this-when she was so clearly trespassing.

Jess pushed her tangled curls back with a defiant flourish-and felt more dirt streak down her cheek as Niall Mountmarche finally spoke.

‘What the hell are you doing on my land?’ The man’s voice was deep and resonant with a trace of an accent she couldn’t quite place-and more than a trace of anger.

It was hardly a promising start.

Jessie bit her lip and forced herself to hold out her hand in an attempt at greeting.

‘Hi,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I’m…I’m Jessica Harvey…’

‘I’m not the least bit interested in who you are,’ the man snapped. His dark eyes flashed his displeasure. ‘The sign on my gate is there for a purpose-and it means what it says. This is no place for teenagers to play stupid games-so I suggest you get yourself off my land now.’