Sweet Tempest Read online

  'Have you come to fetch us in to lunch, darling?'

  'Whenever you're ready,' Stephanie told him, deliberately widening her smile. 'Five minutes, okay?'

  'We'll be there,' he promised, his expression becoming faintly pensive as he watched her departure.

  Lunch was not the easiest of meals—at least, not as far as Stephanie was concerned. She was made increasingly aware of the man seated at her left, her senses heightened by some elusory magnetic pull that angered as much as it intrigued.

  On the surface, Jake Stanton was friendly, including her in the conversation whenever he deigned it necessary to acknowledge her presence. Yet there was an aloofness, almost a detached uninterest barely evident, that rankled slightly. Not, she assured herself, that she wanted him to bestow her any attention. His appearance gave every indication that he was more than any one woman could handle—at least, any woman with a grain of common sense!

  Fortunately her father refrained from giving overt praise with regard to her culinary expertise, although her efforts didn't go unnoticed and she earned an acknowledgment, pleasantly given, from their guest, and only she was aware of the faint mockery evident.

  It was a relief when the two men excused themselves from the table and left the room. With a bit of luck they would disappear into the clinic and wouldn't be seen again until it was time for dinner!

  After loading the dishwasher and dispensing with numerous pots and pans Stephanie escaped upstairs and entered her father's room with the intention of selecting sufficient of his clothes as she thought necessary, then, the chore completed, she laid them out on the bed, leaving him the final choice.

  The room Jake Stanton had been assigned was, immediately opposite, and she gave a faint grimace as she passed the closed door. Why did she suddenly have the feeling that his presence had already wrought a subtle change in the happy carefree atmosphere that had always been evident in her home? The instinctive knowledge that things would never be the same again prompted her to snatch up a sheepskin-lined jacket from her bedroom at the far end of the hall, then almost running downstairs she collected her car keys and headed for the garage.

  Oddly restless, she reversed out and headed down the drive, turning in the direction of town. There were any number of friends she could visit, and without any forethought she found herself turning into the street where Ian lived with his mother. Her arrival was scheduled, and she felt vaguely irritated by the fact that impromptu visits were considered an infringement of Mrs Bryant's privacy.

  At least Ian's response didn't lack enthusiasm, and she accepted his kiss with more warmth than usual.

  A pleasant young man, fair-haired and of medium height, he was someone she'd grown up with, and over the past year their friendship had developed into an affectionate bond.

  'Stephanie! Lovely to see you.' He gave her a hug and placed his arm about her shoulders, leading her indoors. 'I thought you'd be too busy this afternoon.'

  How could she explain the need to get out of her own home, away from the disturbing man, who, even on so short an acquaintance, gave sensual perception a depth of meaning she was loath to explore. Or to add that she had obeyed a primeval instinct to run as fast and as far as her legs would carry her!

  'Mother and I were just about to have afternoon tea,' Ian elaborated, pushing open the lounge door. 'You must join us.'

  Why did the thought of an apparently rugged young man spending his time partaking of such a traditional repast rankle? Most men of a similar age were out playing football, rugby, golf—or an equally strenuous indoor sport. Not, she decided reluctantly, that Ian's devotion to his widowed mother wasn't commendable. Except that Mrs Bryant regarded anyone, male or female, as a threat to the hold she retained on her son.

  'Look who's called in to see us,' Ian announced with a wide grin, and he missed the sudden tightening of the older woman's lips, the faint bleakness that made her pale blue eyes seem even paler.

  'Stephanie.' Her acknowledgment was perfunctory, and stiltedly polite. 'Do come in and sit down.'

  An hour was more than Stephanie could conceivably bear, and afterwards she wondered why she hadn't simply stayed at home and contacted Ian by phone. It would have been infinitely preferable to the tête-à-tête she'd had to endure!

  She arrived home just as the grandfather clock in the hall struck four, and retrieved the note propped up against the vase of flowers on the dining-room table. A hollow laugh bubbled up inside her throat. Her escape had been in vain. Her father had been called out unexpectedly and had taken Jake Stanton with him. Unless there were any unforeseen complications, they would be back in time for dinner.

  Stephanie crumpled the note and aimed it for the waste basket in the kitchen. It was idiotic to succumb to such a contrary mood. Normally sunny-natured and serene as she was, this sudden illogical mood-swing was something she found difficult to assimilate, and in a determined effort to dispel it she went into the kitchen, withdrew a recipe book from among its companions,. then spent time deliberating what form dessert would take for the evening meal.

  By the time the two men returned two hours later she had her wayward emotions under control, and she faced Jake Stanton across the dining-room table with admirable panache, utilising all her capabilities in the role of hostess to lead her father into revealing various amusing anecdotes relating to the clinic and its patients, so that before the men were aware of it, they had finished the delectable dessert and were being encouraged to retreat into the study for coffee.

  Thereafter it was relatively simple to pretend the need for an early night in view of her father's early departure next morning.

  Ensconced in bed with a book, she gave her watch a derisory glance and conceded that the last time she'd retired this early was while she was still at school and cramming for an exam!

  She read for an hour, then switched off the light in an attempt to covet sleep. Except that enviable escape into blissful oblivion proved elusive, and she lay awake long into the early morning hours, slipping into an uneasy somnolence that became fraught with dark dreams, so that she woke pale and heavy-eyed shortly after the new day's dawn.

  CHAPTER TWO

  'Bye, darling. Take care of yourself,' Jim Matheson bade his daughter as his flight was called over the tannoy. 'I'll ring you from the hotel in Los Angeles.' His kindly face creased with momentary concern. 'Don't worry, Stephanie. Jake is well able to cope, and Edith James will be there by the time you get home.'

  Heavens, she'd have to perk up a bit, otherwise he would develop second thoughts about going, and that wouldn't be fair. He deserved the break, his first in too many years.

  'Worry?' she arched with a grin, giving him a quick hug. 'Who's worrying? Everything will go so smoothly, I doubt your absence from the clinic will even be noticed,' she added teasingly, relieved as a smile widened his lips. 'Now, go through the barrier,' she ordered, giving him a gentle push. That was the last call.' She stood on tiptoe and kissed his weatherbeaten cheek, summoned a lopsided smile as he leant out a hand and ruffled the mass of curls framing her face, and she managed a cheery wave as he turned for the last salute before disappearing out of sight.

  Tullamarine International Airport was a hive of activity, and Stephanie moved with the crowd towards the observation deck, electing to wait until the giant Boeing 747 soared into the sky. Perhaps it was sentimentality, but she preferred to actually see her father safely airborne.

  It was almost eleven o'clock when she turned the Datsun into the driveway and brought it to a smooth halt inside the garage. There were several cars lining the parking space adjacent the clinic, and her lips formed a faint grimace. It hadn't taken long for news of a new locum to spread round the district.

  The waiting room was almost full, and she crossed to her desk and slid into her chair.

  'Jim get away okay?' asked Michael, slanting a quizzical eyebrow in silent acknowledgment of their influx of patients.

  'Yes, no problems or delays,' she said quietly, running her ey
e over the array of files lying neatly beside the typewriter. 'Any messages?'

  'Several, but only one personal one. Amy Collins has rung three times—wants you to contact her urgently.'

  A slight frown creased her forehead. 'Amy?' Recognition returned as she recalled Edith James had a daughter of that name. 'Oh, Amy. Sure, I'll make the call now.' Her fingers were already lifting the receiver, and she dialled the required digits with professional speed.

  'Thank heavens!' a sensible feminine voice greeted on the third ring. 'I'm afraid I have bad news. Mum slipped down the stairs this morning and broke her leg.'

  'Oh, that's too bad,' Stephanie responded immediately. 'I hope it's only a simple fracture. Is there anything I can do?'

  'Not a thing,' the other woman returned at once. 'Although Mum is dreadfully upset at having to leave you in the lurch.'

  Stephanie's stomach muscles tightened fractionally as the implication of Edith James' absence began to sink in. Her fingers clutched the receiver and she endeavoured to keep her voice light. 'She mustn't worry about it, Amy. We'll be able to manage—and anyway,' she added, her mind spinning rapidly ahead, 'I'm sure I can find a replacement, and even if I can't, it won't be the end of the world.' The light on the small switchboard began to glow, signifying that there was another call waiting. 'Can you hold, Amy? Or shall I ring back?'

  'I'm on my way to the hospital. I'll check with you later in the day.'

  Stephanie depressed a switch, then flicked up another, taking the incoming call with professional courtesy. It transpired that a distraught owner needed urgent reassurance and she transferred the call to Surgery.

  'Yes?' Jake Stanton's voice sounded curt and unfamiliar, and for some reason a tiny shiver feathered its way down her spine.

  'Mrs Johnson's Tabitha has eaten three of her sutures, and nothing will stop her attacking those remaining,' she reported briskly. 'Will you speak to her?'

  'Tabitha?'

  His cynical drawl made her catch her breath, and it was all she could do not to snap back at him.

  'Not unless you possess some mystical powers in feline communication,' she answered dryly, and put through the call without waiting for him to comment.

  Mondays were usually busy, and today was no exception. So much so that it was another hour before Stephanie had an opportunity to put a call through to the town's principal employment agency to request a replacement for Edith James.

  The receptionist promised to do her best, but finding someone who was prepared to live in would be difficult.

  'You look vaguely harassed. What's up?'

  She glanced up and caught Michael's intent stare. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,' she revealed with slight disparagement. 'Do me a favour and switch lunches? I have to organise something edible for our inestimable locum.'

  One eyebrow rose quizzically. 'Don't you trust the capable Mrs James to feed him?'

  'I would, if she could,' Stephanie grimaced. 'However, she'd find that a bit difficult from a hospital bed.'

  A soft whistle left his lips. 'You're not serious?'

  'Oh, infinitely,' she sighed wearily. 'Now, will you switch?'

  'Sure. Anything to please.'

  'Your solicitude is commendable,: a sardonic voice intruded. 'If I might suggest you confine your working hours to work?'

  Stephanie closed her eyes momentarily in an effort to restrain her temper. He really was the limit! With admirable calm she rose to her feet and preferred Michael a singularly sweet smile. 'I'll be back in an hour.'

  'Going somewhere?' Jake queried idly, and she turned to face him—a mistake, for she was immediately at a disadvantage.

  Slowly she let her eyes travel up the strong column of his throat, glimpsed the firm chin, the wide sensuously moulded mouth, then reluctantly met his enigmatic gaze. He had to know some time, and it might as well be now. 'Mrs James is in hospital,' she said, evenly. 'I'm taking an early lunch-break in order to fix you something to eat.'

  His regard was startlingly level. 'Presumably you've endeavoured to find a replacement?'

  'I have—so far without any success,' she told him tartly. 'I'll make a few more calls from the house.'

  Jake's gaze narrowed, and his expression became an enigmatic mask. 'I have some business to attend to in town. I'll get something there.'

  She effected a slight shrug. 'As long as it's no inconvenience.'

  'None at all,' he said dryly, moving aside.

  Stephanie stepped past him, hating the way her pulse quickened in awareness of his close proximity. It wasn't until she was out of the clinic and walking towards the house that she began to breathe evenly. Damn him! she cursed ineffectually as she entered the side door and moved into the kitchen. She didn't know him at all, yet already she hated him. He had the oddest effect on her equilibrium, making her aware of latent sensations that were both unenviable and unwanted. It hadn't been so bad, knowing that there would be someone else in the house to act as a buffer, but now the prospect of four long weeks seemed to stretch interminably.

  The likelihood of engaging household help at such short notice didn't augur well, and after consulting three agencies she was inclined to agree that while it was possible to engage a daily woman, finding someone unencumbered by family responsibilities which would enable them to live in looked like proving a hopeless task.

  Meantime, there was dinner to think about, and with this in mind Stephanie crossed to the refrigerator and extracted some steak from the well-stocked deepfreeze. While there she removed some beef with which to prepare a casserole for tomorrow's lunch. Somehow she imagined Jake Stanton possessed a hearty appetite—he'd certainly done justice to the three meals she had prepared so far.

  Aware that her lunch hour was almost over, she caught up a piece of bread, buttered and folded it over a piece of ham, then poured a glass of fruit juice. Not much in the way of sustenance, she grimaced wryly as she finished both, and supplemented it with a banana, tucking the fruit into her pocket, assuring herself she'd eat it during the afternoon.

  There was little time to do anything other than work during the ensuing five hours. The phone rang constantly, filling the appointment book over the following few days to such an extent that Stephanie began to wonder how many cases were actually genuine. .

  As was customary, she managed to slip away from the clinic shortly after five-thirty, and knowing there had been no emergency calls to delay dinner, she set about preparing vegetables for the evening meal.

  She heard Jake enter the house just as she was about to heat some soup from the vast quantity Edith James had prepared a few days previously, and immediately the muscles in her stomach tensed into a painful knot.

  Fool, she told herself silently. He's everything you dislike in a man, so why react like a teenage schoolgirl?

  'Any luck in acquiring a housekeeper?'

  Stephanie put down the bowl, then placed a lid on top of the saucepan. 'None,' she responded civilly. 'All three agencies assure me it will be almost impossible to engage someone to live in at such short notice. However, there's hope a daily woman can be found before the end of the week.' She spared him a glance, then wished she hadn't. His tall frame was intimidating, and there was only austere remoteness in his expression. 'Until then, I can manage,' she continued stiltedly.

  'I'm sure you can,' Jake commented dryly.

  Oh Lord, he didn't plan on making the situation any easier! A smile, or at least commiseration at their fate, would have a lightening effect. As it was, he was being a positive bear!

  Aloud, she declared, 'Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, if you want to shower or shave. There's beer in the fridge, and an assortment of spirits in the lounge cabinet. I'm sure Dad has told you to help yourself.'

  'Is that a polite way of banishing me from the kitchen?'

  She closed her eyes momentarily in an effort to remain calm. 'Why would you want to stay?' she asked simply, and saw his lips twist to form a wry smile.

  'Twenty minutes?'
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  'Yes.'

  Then he was gone, and she let out an inaudible sigh of relief. This was only the beginning. There were four weeks to get through, and even culling a wild social existence wouldn't dispose of the inevitable hours they would come in contact with each other.

  After setting the table and checking the contents in various saucepans, she removed the apron she had tied about her waist on entering the kitchen, then cast her watch a hurried glance. She had ten minutes in which to shower and change, and she moved across the hall, taking the stairs with graceful agility.

  The house was old, built of well-preserved stone and timber with large high-ceilinged rooms and wide passageways. Although it was comfortable, its design precluded modern en suite facilities, and the upstairs bedrooms were served by two bathrooms, one at each end of the hall.

  Just as she reached the top of the stairs a door opened to her left and Jake emerged from the bathroom, a towel hitched about his waist and another slung carelessly over one shoulder.

  Quickly averting her eyes, she moved towards her own room with more haste than usual, then cursed herself for being so naive. She had seen the male form adorned in far less on numerous occasions during her nursing years, and there was no reason for an expanse of tanned muscled flesh to create so much havoc within her feminine breast!

  Thoroughly cross, she caught up a change of clothes from her room, then went into her bathroom and showered with admirable speed. Dressed, she smoothed moisturiser over her face, and declined any further use of make-up. Damned if she would give him any reason to suppose she might find him attractive by taking undue care with her appearance!

  In the kitchen she deftly set about serving the food on to plates, then placed them into the oven to keep warm while they had the soup. Fresh fruit salad and cream would have to suffice as dessert.

  Jake was in the lounge, and he turned as she entered the room. He held a glass in his hand, and dark trousers topped with a casual vee-necked jumper served to accentuate his male physique.