THE LAST TEMPTATION OF DR. DALTON by ROBIN GIANNA

Author:ROBIN GIANNA, [GIANNA,, ROBIN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ROMANCE - MEDICIAL
Publisher: HARLEQUIN
Published: 2014-03-07T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE DRIVE THROUGH farms of papaya, mangoes and acres of rubber trees brought them to the soaring Grand Cape Mount, then eventually to the shoreline. Though John Adams had offered, Charlotte insisted on driving, of course. Trent had to wonder what made the woman feel a need to be in charge all the time. Didn’t she ever want just to relax and go along for the ride?

Patience kept up a steady chatter until her father told her he’d give her a quarter if she could stay silent for five minutes. After she failed to manage that, Trent entertained her with a few simple card tricks he let her “win” that earned her the quarter after all.

They parked at the edge of the road and, as they unpacked their things from the car, Charlotte shook her head at Trent. “Is there a soul on the planet you can’t charm to death?”

“To death? Doesn’t exactly sound like you mean that in a nice way.” Trent hooked a few beach chairs over his arm and they followed John Adams and Patience, who carried their lunches and a few plastic pails and shovels.

“Okay, charm, period. Everyone in the hospital thinks you’re Mr. Wonderful.”

“Does that include the director of the hospital?”

“Of course. I’m very grateful you filled in here—twice—until we can get another doctor.”

Her voice had become polite, her smile a little stiff. Was she regretting that her rare time off had to be spent with him? Or could she be having the same problem he was having—wanting to take up where they’d left off at her house, knowing it was a hell of a bad idea?

As they approached the beach, Trent stopped to soak in the visual spectacle before him. A wide and inviting expanse of beige sand stretched as far as he could see, palm trees swaying in the ocean wind. A few houses sat off the shore, looking for all the world as though they were from the Civil War era of the deep south in the United States.

“How old do you think those houses are?” he asked Charlotte.

“Robertsport was one of the first colonies founded here by freed slaves. I think it goes back to 1829, so some of the houses here are over a hundred and fifty years old.”

“That’s incredible.” He looked back down the beach and enjoyed the picturesque lines of fishermen with their seining nets stretched from the beach down into the water, about ten of them standing three feet apart, holding the nets in their hands. Several canoes sat on the shore, obviously made from a single hand-carved tree. One was plain, but the other was splashed with multiple colors of paint in an interesting hodgepodge design.

He was surprised to see a few surfers in the water farther down the beach, not too far from a cluster of black rocks in the distance. The waves were big and powerful, but were breaking fairly far out.

“I didn’t know the people here surfed. I know Senegal is popular for surfing, but didn’t know the sport had made its way here.

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