Sweet Tempest Read online

  The telephone saved her from having to comment, and it was after one o'clock when she eventually locked the outer door and a further ten minutes before she had restored the reception desk to order. By then Michael had left, and only Jake remained tidying up the surgery.

  Stephanie ran a cursory check, switched the phone over to the house, then indicated her intention to leave. 'Lunch in about thirty minutes, okay?'

  His response was curtly monosyllabic and she suppressed a grimace as she made her way towards the house. The weekend stretched ahead, and she intended to be out as much as possible. Remaining in his company for anything unrelated to necessity was unthinkable!

  As it turned out, she needn't have worried, for after lunch Jake mentioned that he would be leaving for Melbourne early the following morning and wouldn't be back until late.

  The evening was scarcely memorable, but Karen's company provided some essential light relief, and the film was excellent.

  Monday dawned with the promise of rain, added to which was a fall in temperature that whipped ice into the wind and sent Stephanie switching on the central heating both in the house and the clinic.

  Armed with a long list of required provisions, she set off into town shortly after midday, and after parking her car she moved through the automatic doors and selected a trolley..

  The supermarket was full, and Stephanie suppressed a feeling of irritation that she'd chosen this particular time to do her weekly shopping. Not that she had much choice, really, for the clinic had been unusually busy and taking time off was practically an impossibility.

  At least now they had a daily help, which ensured that the house was smoothly run. A slight, grimace creased her pleasant features. If the present influx of patients kept up, she'd have to think seriously about enlisting some part-time help in the clinic itself.

  'Stephanie, how nice to see you!'

  She came out of her reverie with a slight jolt, recognising a familiar voice. 'Mrs Bryant, how are you?' she greeted politely, summoning a faint smile, and saw the slight narrowing of the other woman's expression.

  'My dear, I've been meaning to call you—for a chat.' Her lips pursed. 'You no longer have your own dear mother to guide you, I know, but with your father absent someone should offer some advice.'

  Oh lord! Stephanie groaned. I really don't have time for this. 'Perhaps later?' she prevaricated.

  'I've only an hour in which to complete my shopping, and there are a few other things I must do before getting back to the clinic.'

  Mrs Bryant's facial muscles tightened into an uncompromising mask. 'In is quite besotted with you, but we both take a very dim view of your present predicament. It simply isn't within the bounds of decency to have that man sleeping in the same house.' .

  It said much for Stephanie's innate good manners that she didn't explode, and she endeavoured to dampen down the anger that rose to the fore, forcing herself to speak with a calmness she was far from feeling. 'I'm sure Ian has told you that every effort has been made to find a live-in housekeeper,' she managed quietly.

  'Well, something should be done,' Mrs Bryant declared with bristling righteousness. 'It isn't seemly for a young woman to be living alone with a man in the same house.'

  Careful, Stephanie cautioned. 'If you're so concerned, perhaps you can think of a solution?'

  'Why not move in with one of your girl friends until your father returns?'

  She drew a deep breath, 'Why should I impose on others when there's no need?' she parried, and watched as the other woman drew herself up to her full height.

  'No need?' Narrow lips tightened into a thin line, and pale blue eyes became cold. 'What of your reputation? Ian deserves a girl whose morals are beyond reproach.'

  'Are you suggesting mine are not?'

  'Well, my dear, who knows what temptations stand in your way in the present circumstances?'

  That did it. 'You possess a devious mind, Mrs Bryant,' Stephanie declared with sweet civility, 'which would be better employed than with something that's none of your business.' Without waiting to see the registered shock, she pushed her trolley forward and consulting her list, added to her purchases until her shopping was completed.

  The various brown paper bags stowed in the boot of her Datsun, she walked across the parking area to the street and crossed it to go into the bank. Business completed, she collected the few necessities remaining on her list, then moved back to the car.

  Driving home she became consumed with ill-concealed rage, so that by the time she parked the car she was incapable of rational speech.

  Jake walked into the kitchen just as she deposited the last of the packages on to the table, and the look she threw him would have quelled a lesser man on the spot. As it was, he raised an enquiring eyebrow and queried with cynical mockery, 'What's bitten you?'

  'A procrastinating queen bee!' she vented waspishly, and it was only by exercising considerable restraint that she didn't actually throw the can of asparagus she held in her hand at his hatefully amused countenance.

  'My, my,' he drawled, and pulling one of the packages towards him he began to unpack its contents. 'I take it you returned the sting?'

  She threw him a wrathful glare. 'You can be sure of it!'

  'Have you had lunch?'

  'No. I haven't time—what's more, it would stick in my throat!'

  'Care to elaborate?'

  'You'd laugh.'

  His glance was remarkably steady. 'You didn't.'

  'I don't possess your sophisticated sense of humour.'

  'Maybe you should cultivate it.'

  She flashed him a wry look. 'Mrs Bryant needs the lesson, not me.'

  'Ah, I see.'

  'Do you?' she demanded sceptically.

  'Oh, yes,' Jake opined sardonically. 'Concern has been expressed at her prospective daughter-in-law sleeping unchaperoned under the same roof as an eligible man.'

  Stephanie lifted her head and regarded him levelly. 'Are you? Eligible, I mean?'

  'Question and answer time?'

  'My father obviously thought you above reproach, but he neglected to reveal any real information.'

  His mouth slanted in open mockery. 'Is it important?'

  She managed a careless shrug and began stowing the groceries on to the pantry shelves. 'Not really. In little more than three weeks you'll leave our orbit and will probably never be seen or heard of by any of us again.'

  His expression assumed an inscrutability that was impossible to penetrate. 'There's some soup left. I'll put it oh to heat.'

  She shot him a dark glance. 'I really don't want it.'

  'But you'll have it, just the same.'

  'Are you always this bossy?' she demanded crossly.

  'When I consider it necessary.'

  'I'm not a child to be ordered around! Anyway, aren't you due back at the clinic?'

  'Now who's being bossy?'

  A sigh of resignation left her lips. 'All right, I'll have the darn soup. I'll even grab a few cracker biscuits or some bread to have with it. Now, will you please get off my back?'

  He lifted his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. 'I'm on my way. Incidentally, I won't be in for dinner.'

  'A date? My goodness!' Her eyebrows lifted with amusement. 'Which particular patient's owner is the lucky woman?'

  'None,' Jake returned smoothly. 'I'll leave a number where I can be contacted in case of an emergency.' With easy lithe strides he moved towards the door, and she watched his tall frame disappear out of sight.

  The afternoon passed without mishap, and by adroit management they were able to keep their appointments on time, closing the clinic doors after the last patient at five-thirty.

  Mrs Anderson had left a meal warming in the oven, and Stephanie removed the dish, her tastebuds quivering with hunger at the delicious aroma pervading the kitchen. Jake had disappeared upstairs, presumably to shower and change, and she wasted little time in collecting cutlery and a plate for herself.

  She was halfway thro
ugh the tasty steak and kidney pie when the phone rang, and she crossed to pick up the receiver, automatically making a professional response, hoping it wasn't an emergency call.

  'Stephanie?'

  'Hello, Ian,' she murmured cautiously.

  'Would you like to visit Frank and Thelma? They're viewing a few movies on video, one of which is that film which scooped all the Oscars this year.'

  There were letters she should write, a few phone calls, but nothing that couldn't wait. Besides, she didn't fancy spending the evening alone. 'Why not?' she acquiesced lightly.

  'I'll pick you up in an hour.'

  She was ascending the stairs when she met Jake on his way down.

  'Going out?'

  'Yes, with Ian,' she told him, meeting his slightly narrowed gaze. 'I'll switch on the answerphone before I leave.'

  'I expect to be back around eleven.'

  'I'll leave the outside light on. You've got Dad's set of keys, haven't you?'

  His curt nod ended their exchange, and she reached the top of the stairs as the front door closed behind him.

  A quick shower restored her spirits, then changing into slacks and a jumper she ran a brush through her hair, applied a minimum amount of make-up, then slipped her feet into slim-heeled shoes and caught up her shoulderbag, switched off her bedroom light and moved downstairs.

  Ian arrived five minutes later, and she flipped the switch for the answerphone, then went out to meet him.

  They went straight out to the car, and during the five-minute drive he scarcely said a word, answering her light queries perfunctorily, so that she was on the verge of demanding a reason for his bearish behaviour when he brought the vehicle to a halt in Frank's driveway.

  After being led indoors, Thelma plied them with coffee while her husband set up the video recorder, then silence reigned as they gave their undivided attention to the images on screen.

  It was ten o'clock when they left, and Stephanie could sense Ian was conducting an inner struggle, undecided whether to pursue an issue undoubtedly instigated by his mother's harassed nagging.

  'You'd better get it off your chest,' she said quietly as he stopped the car adjacent the house.

  'Dammit, Stephanie,' he began explosively, 'why do you persist in staying alone with him?'

  'Do we really have to go over this all over again?' she queried hollowly, turning slightly in her seat to face him.

  'Don't my wishes count for anything?'

  'Is your opinion of me so—precarious?'

  'Allowing things to continue will only put temptation in your way,' he insisted doggedly.

  'Supposing I were to find Jake attractive?' she offered with seeming deliberation. The feeling would have to be reciprocated. Where do you imagine that would lead? Bearing in mind that our respective fathers are not only fellow associates, but also friends.'

  Ian's laugh totally lacked any semblance of humour. 'You only have to take one look at him,' he declared derisively. 'He's a womaniser, a rake. It's only a matter of time.'

  Stephanie became still. 'What's only a matter of time?'

  'Oh, come on. I don't believe you're that green!'

  Very carefully she said, 'Exactly what are you insinuating?'

  'Bed,' he elaborated bluntly. 'Yours, or his—it's all the same. One way or another, that's where you'll end up.'

  'Thanks for your trust,' she answered slowly. 'It wouldn't occur to you to shut your ears to the vindictive suggestions your mother has voiced, would it? You've known me all my life, been aware of my views on just about everything, yet suddenly I've become a scarlet woman.' She reached for the doorclasp. 'I was prepared to ignore your mother's rudeness, but coupled with yours, I find I really can't. I think it's best if we don't see each other again.'

  'I love you,' he bit out in anguish, and she slowly shook her head.

  'Not enough, it would seem.'

  'Stephanie—'

  'Goodbye, Ian.'

  'I won't let you go,' he said thickly, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. His mouth sought hers with a desperate hunger, his hands hard on her arms as he sought to enforce his strength.

  She began to struggle, evading his mouth as it moved hotly over her face. 'Leave me alone!'

  'No. I'll have you first, I swear it!'

  'At least be man enough to retain some civility,' she insisted, endeavouring to slip out of his grasp.

  'Man enough? I'll show you how much of a man I really am!'

  His hands slid beneath her jumper and clutched hold of her breasts, crushing them painfully, then his mouth was on hers, stifling the outrage that rose to her lips.

  This sort of behaviour was so alien to his character that it took a few seconds for her to assimilate his intention, and when it became clear he wasn't, about to desist she began hitting him, struggling with increasing fervour to be free of him. His strength outmatched hers, his fingers tearing at the fastening of her bra, hurting her in his effort to free her breasts of the confining silk and lace.

  With a sense of desperation she fought to be free of him, then gave a groan of despair when she realised her struggles had only aided in allowing him to pull her jumper upwards to form a makeshift restriction confining her arms. For a moment she thought she might suffocate, then she let out a muffled scream as she felt his teeth close roughly over one vulnerable nipple. Not content, he nibbled its twin, nipping painfully whenever it pleased him, then he began a similar assault beneath each roseate peak, sending shocks of pain through her body as he bruised the tender flesh.

  No matter how she twisted and turned she couldn't free her arms from his steel-like grasp, and the entire proceedings began to take on nightmarish proportion. She tried talking to him, rationalising, her voice sounding indistinct and muffled as the woollen garment hugged her face.

  Then suddenly Ian stilled, and in that moment she was able to wrench her hands free, letting her arms down and mercifully removing the claustrophobic jumper from her face.

  For a split second Stephanie thought her pleadings had finally reached him, then she became aware of an illumination as car lights drew increasingly nearer in the distance.

  It could only be Jake returning home, and she acted on impulse, reaching for the doorclasp, and moving with fear-induced speed. If she could get indoors before Jake garaged his car, she could be upstairs and safely into her room before he entered the house.

  She was free, out of the car and running, aware that Ian had started the engine and was as intent on leaving the scene with equal rapidity, judging from the faint squeal of tyres as they spun on the loose-metalled driveway.

  Her fingers were shaky as they opened her bag and searched fruitlessly for the key, then finally they recognised the hard metal object, and she extracted it with a prayer of thankfulness just as the Lamborghini swept to a halt before the closed garage doors.

  She'd make it with only seconds to spare, and even as she closed the front door behind her she heard the solid muffled thud as the garage door shut, then without waiting she flew up the stairs.

  In her room she leaned back against the closed door and drew in great gulping breaths in an attempt to bring some semblance of calm to her ragged nerves. Slowly she closed her eyes, then reopened them as the events of the past half hour flooded through her brain in horrifying kaleidoscopic sequence.

  Stephanie had no idea how long she remained leaning against the door. It could have been scant minutes, or more than twenty—she really had no recollection. Slowly a sense of normality began to return, and with it came anger. Her skin felt unclean—her whole body, and she moved about the room collecting her nightwear and dressing-gown. The need to remove every trace of Ian's lust-induced mouth and hands was all-consuming, and in the bathroom she eyed the bath with favour, electing to fill the capacious tub almost to the brim. Scented foam covered its entire surface, and she quickly stepped in and lay down until only her head was visible.

  Slowly the heated water began to have a relaxing effect, soothing her
body, although her thoughts were far removed from tranquillity! Even now she found it difficult to assimilate Ian's horrific mood-swing. She'd known him all through schooldays, played tennis and squash with him at the local clubs, attended social functions, and for the past year they had developed a deeper friendship to a point where both accepted their relationship might lead to something permanent. Suddenly she shivered. To have imagined Ian might possess a dark side to his character was something she hadn't even contemplated.

  A sudden double knock almost succeeded in jack-knifing her from the bath, and of their own volition her arms crossed protectively across her breasts.

  'Stephanie, have you fallen asleep?' Jake demanded brusquely. 'You've been in there almost an hour!'

  'I'm fine,' she assured him in a faintly strangled voice, standing to her feet at once. Reaching out, she grasped hold of a towel and wrapped it round her, then pulled the plug, releasing the water.

  'I'm reassured to hear it,' he drawled, cynicism uppermost.

  Oh, he really was the limit! 'I frequently take long baths late at night,' she managed with evident sarcasm.

  'Perhaps you could curtail the habit—at least while I'm in residence? I couldn't bear to be held responsible for your drowning,' he added sardonically, and she was moved to retort, 'I'll pen a note exonerating you of any blame should such a catastrophe occur!'

  'Goodnight, Stephanie,' he declared mockingly, and she didn't bother returning his salutation.

  Towelled dry, she donned her pyjamas and shrugged her arms into the warm wrap, then caught up her clothes and made her way back to the bedroom.

  There was a thin thread of light showing beneath Jake's door, and she silently wished him as sleepless a night as he deserved! Then she suddenly sobered as realisation dawned. If it hadn't been for his timely arrival… A deep shudder shook her slim body. It didn't pay to think about what the consequences might have been.

  With considerable fortitude she entered her room and closed the door, switched off the light and slid into bed.

  Sleep refused to grant its blissful oblivion, and she tossed and turned, plumped her pillow more times than she cared to count until finally she slid out from beneath the covers in angry desperation. Her nerves were as taut as a tightly-stretched wire, and her head felt as if tiny hammers were banging away in strident discord. There had to be something to help her sleep—Paracetamol, Disprin; even something stronger.