Her eyes widened. That brought back memories. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Cool.’

But he’d moved on. Back to business. ‘You know, I really would like to know what your sign means,’ he told her. ‘We seem to be going the long way round here. You know what I do. You know about my crazy mother’s addiction to romance. You know I cook my toast on a wood stove.’ His voice lowered, and suddenly the laughter was gone. ‘So now it’s your turn. Are you going to tell me why on earth there is a blue sign half written on the building next door to mine saying “Dr A. J. Westruther”?’

She gulped. Dr A. J. Westruther. She’d agonised over whether to use the ‘Doctor’ bit. But she was entitled, and if it meant more clients…

This was a small country town and massage would be a new experience for most. If the label ‘Doctor’ made the locals feel more comfortable-and scared away those for whom massage meant something totally inappropriate-why shouldn’t she use it?

‘Dr Westruther’s me,’ she told him.

This conversation had been frivolous up to now. But suddenly it wasn’t. She wiped her hands on the sides of her paint-stained overalls and thought, Uh-oh. Here goes.

‘You’re Dr Westruther?’

‘Ally,’ she told him and put out her hand.

He didn’t take it.

‘No one’s employing you to paint a sign?’

‘No.’

‘You’re saying that you’re a doctor?’

‘Yep.’

His brows hiked in disbelief. ‘You’re a doctor-and you’re setting up in opposition to me?’

‘Oh, come on.’ She tried to smile but there was something about the sudden shadowing of this man’s eyes that made her smile fade before it formed. ‘You think I’d do that? It’d be crazy to set up in opposition.’

‘You’re a…dentist, then?’ His eyes raked hers, and she saw disbelief that she could be anything so sensible. So mature.

This was hardly the way she’d wanted to meet this man, she thought. If this worked out, she hoped that maybe he could send work her way. That was why she’d rented this place so close to the doctor’s surgery. But when she’d visited the town two weeks ago to organise a rental, a locum had been working in Dr Darcy Rochester’s rooms. The gangly locum who’d been filling in for him had said that he’d tell…Darcy about her, but maybe he hadn’t.