Rory was huge—and that wasn’t just according to Ally. Everyone—everyone—commented on his size, because Rory was a generous touch more than the average tall guy—he literally towered over everyone. He looked more like a rugby player than a doctor—minus the cauliflower ears and broken nose, though, Ally conceded, watching as he pulled his wallet out of his shorts and paid the driver. Rory had a very nice straight nose and a wide, generous, very white-toothed smile. Minus the scruffy hair, too. Ally sighed, watching his dark, neatly cut, very straight hair gleaming in the midday sun. Apart from his height he was also incredibly well built. His massive wide shoulders meant he had to have his suits custom made, huge feet meant his shoes had taken up half the cupboard in the hallway, but somehow in the three years he’d been gone, Ally had forgotten just what an impressive sight he was. She’d even convinced herself that he was fat, that that huge frame would have gone to seed by now, but there he was, literally larger than life and twice as good-looking. A backpack was being unloaded out of the boot now, but so was a suit holder, and despite the shorts and T-shirt there was an air of authority about him she’d never truly noticed before. Rory had clearly done a lot of growing up in the last three years and here he was, about to walk back into her door.