Sweet Tempest

by Helen Bianchin

  'My God,' Stephanie breathed, 'you've got a hell of a nerve, dragging me into it!' All the pent-up rage she'd managed to suppress bubbled up inside her as the words tumbled out in a furious flow. 'Damn you! I won't be used as a convenient scapegoat!'

  'I've tried everything I can think of in an attempt to convince my charming ex-wife that a reconciliation is out of the question,' Jake said brusquely, his eyes flint-hard and implacable.

  'And I just happened to be handy in your Scheme of things,' she opined wrathfully. 'Tell me, do you always ride roughshod over everyone?'

  The look he cast her was ruthlessly formidable. 'Only when it's absolutely necessary.'

  She drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly. 'I sincerely hope your ex-wife keeps the so-called "news" to herself, otherwise the town gossips will have a field-day.'

  'With luck, she'll return to Melbourne and board a plane for the States within the next few days.'

  Stephanie gave a sigh that behoved great forbearance. 'Dare I remind you of the quotation— "Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd"?' Rather wearily she lifted a hand to her throbbing temple. 'I'm going up to bed. Goodnight.' Without looking at him she moved to the stairs, and was halfway up them when he drawled, 'Make sure you take your tablets. I wouldn't want to incur Mrs Anderson's wrath should you suffer a relapse.'

  She didn't bother responding, nor did she deign to spare him a glance. In fact, it was just as well there was considerable distance between them, otherwise she would surely have struck him!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Stephanie slept badly, and woke the next morning feeling decidedly fragile. Perhaps it was pique that persuaded her to remain in bed rather than face Jake over the breakfast table, although she preferred to think of it as an act of self-indulgence. Being a convalescent gave her licence to do as she pleased, and she elected to take full advantage of it—for today, at least.

  She should have known it wouldn't work, she thought resignedly as shortly after eight o'clock a sharp double knock on her door was immediately followed by Jake's entry into the room.

  'Don't you ever wait to be asked?' Stephanie thrust waspishly as she pulled the covers up to her chin and held them tightly in place.

  He, darn him, looked incredibly vital dressed in hip-hugging trousers and a vee-necked aran-knit jumper. His dark eyes subjected her to a rapid assessing glance before returning to rest on her stormy features.

  'My dear Stephanie,' he drawled, 'would you willingly invite me into your bedroom?'

  She tossed him a venomous glare and refused to rise to the bait.

  With easy lithe strides he crossed to stand within touching distance, and his expression bore compelling intentness.

  'Okay, let's have it, shall we?' he began imperturbably.

  'Is this an act of childish perversity, or are you genuinely feeling unwell?'

  'Both,' she snapped, daring him to pursue it further.

  Without a word he caught hold of her hand and took note of her pulse, then let his fingers trail over her forehead. 'A slightly elevated pulse, but no temperature.'

  'I'm not an animal!' she retorted indignantly, and was further enraged by his husky laugh.

  'Oh, I don't know,' he allowed musingly. 'At the moment you resemble a skittish kitten—claws unsheathed and full of spitting fury.'

  'Go away, Jake.' If he didn't she was liable to say something regrettable.

  'I'll leave a note for Mrs Anderson to bring you 'something to eat,' he declared imperturbably, and she flung back instantly, 'Don't bother. I'm getting up.' An idea occurred to her, and she voiced it without thought. 'In fact, I think I'll drive into town and spend a few hours shopping.'

  'The hell you will,' he responded succinctly. 'It's about two degrees outside, and raining heavily.'

  'Then I'll come into the clinic—if only for a while,' Stephanie insisted.

  'Tomorrow,' he allowed reluctantly, and she shook her head in defiance.

  'This afternoon. I'm tired of being cooped up like an invalid!'

  'Tomorrow,' Jake insisted silkily. 'I'll arrange for Maryanne to have the afternoon off.'

  Her eyes narrowed faintly, and she frowned as a niggling suspicion fought its way to the fore. 'Maryanne who?' There were only two local girls who bore that name, and one in particular was a striking brunette with a personality to match.

  'Sylvester,' he divulged. 'Michael is definitely enamoured.'

  'And you, of course, are not,' she declared with seeming sweetness.

  'My, my,' Jake murmured quizzically. 'If I didn't know better, I'd almost suspect you were jealous!'

  That did it. Without thought she lunged out at him, missing her target as he sidestepped with ease, and she tumbled to the floor in an ignominious heap trailing the top sheet which had somehow managed to get caught up on her foot, plus part of the blankets and the coverlet.

  His deep husky chuckle only added insult to injury, and she picked up the nearest object and threw it at him.

  The slipper was fielded and tossed to the floor, and she watched in mesmerised fascination as his eyes hardened with deliberate intent, his movements studied as he slowly bent down towards her.

  Even as she scrambled to escape, his hands closed over her arms, lifting her clear of the tangle of bedclothes, and she struggled as he set her down before him.

  'Let me go, damn you!' He was dangerously close, his stance vaguely menacing, and she was suddenly conscious of her attire, the fact that her pyjama top had parted at the waist, and one button had come adrift from her exertions. With shaking fingers she attempted to pull the edges of the top together, and couldn't because his hand was already there, the warmth of his fingers creating havoc as they slid to cover her breast.

  'Don't!' It was a useless plea that went unheeded as he lowered his head and trailed his lips down the sensitive cord of her neck to the rapidly-beating pulse at the edge of her throat.

  Not content, his lips slid further, and she uttered a silent moan as they closed over one roseate peak, teasing it gently until it became a sensitised pulsing ache that sent shivers of ecstasy spiralling from the very core of her being.

  She was aware of his hands closing over her waist, pulling her close, then they moved slowly up her back holding her fast as his mouth slid up to close over hers in a kiss that made anything she had previously experienced pale into insignificance.

  The earth moved, she was sure of it—certainly she became mindless, lost and locked in a passionate arousal that knew no bounds. All that was important was that he didn't stop, and she clung to him unashamedly.

  Then suddenly she was free, and she could only look at him dazedly, her lips pink and faintly swollen as they parted in mute protest. At that precise moment she felt as if she had suffered the loss of a limb, so acute was her desolation.

  His muttered imprecation brought colour to her cheeks, and a return to sanity, as slowly she came down from the sensual plateau to the full realisation of what she had almost allowed to happen.

  'I think you'd better leave.' Was that her voice? It sounded low and husky, an almost inaudible murmur that whispered shakily into the stillness of the room, and she was powerless to stop the tears that began to well with shimmering brilliance in her eyes.

  A muscle tensed along his jaw and his eyes darkened until they resembled obsidian chips, then with an abrupt movement he turned and left the room.

  Slowly she sank down on to the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. What on earth was happening? Up until now she had thought she could remain in full control of her emotions, but what had just transpired proved how easy it was to succumb to the moment.

  How long she remained there she had no idea, and it was only when she heard the faint sounds of Mrs Anderson's arrival that she stirred, forcing her limbs to move as she stood to her feet. Like an automaton she remade her bed and tidied the room, then she collected fresh underwear and made for the bathroom.

  A leisure
ly shower did much to restore her composure, and dressed, she caught up a warm sheepskin-lined coat, slipped her feet into knee-length boots, then went downstairs.

  In the kitchen she poured herself some coffee and made some toast, exchanged pleasantries with Mrs Anderson, then despite that good woman's reservation about the advisability of going out, she collected her bag and took her leave.

  Regardless of being idle for almost a week, the Datsun sprang to life and didn't falter as Stephanie backed it out from the garage, and seconds later she sent it purring down the driveway.

  There were a number of cars lining the main street, and she parked without difficulty. With no clear indication of how to fill in the ensuing few hours she decided on a reasonably brisk walk along the main street. That at least would be beneficial after the past week's inactivity. There was a nice coffee lounge where she could indulge in a cappuccino, and there was no reason why she shouldn't embark on a shopping spree.

  Three hours later she unlocked her car and deposited a number of variously assorted carry-bags on to the rear seat, feeling satisfied with her purchases. In fact, the entire morning had been a very pleasant experience. There was nothing to compare with a successful shopping expedition to give a very necessary boost to one's morale!

  The fact that her arrival home happened to coincide with Jake's lunch break hardly daunted her at all. He could be as disapproving as he liked, she thought vengefully. It was her home, she was over twenty-one, and he had no jurisdiction whatsoever where she was concerned.

  Stephanie took her purchases upstairs and placed the packages on the spare bed, then removed her boots in favour of warm slippers, hung up her coat, and after casting her mirrored reflection a cursory glance she turned and left the room.

  Jake was already halfway through his meal when she joined him at the table, and she offered a slight smile, determined to project an air of normality.

  'Enjoy yourself?'

  Stephanie continued helping herself to some excellent stew, then replaced the ladle and picked lip her fork. 'Immensely,' she assured him, summoning enthusiasm. 'It was good to get out.'

  'Despite being told not to go,' he slanted silkily, and she returned his gaze with equanimity.

  'I didn't realise your word was law,' she responded evenly.

  'Where you're concerned, it is.'

  'Oh?' Her surprise was feigned. 'You're not my jailor. I'm free to do whatever I please.' Resolve gave her the courage to add, 'What's more, I'm coming to the clinic this afternoon.'

  'Maryanne is extremely capable. You'll be superfluous.'

  I just bet she is, Stephanie thought darkly. 'I'm sure I can find something to do,' she shrugged with seeming carelessness.

  'Afraid you're not as indispensable as you imagined?' Jake queried sardonically, and it took considerable effort to remain calm.

  'No one is indispensable,' she proffered sweetly, then added softly, 'Not even you.'

  If she wanted to make him angry, she didn't succeed.

  'Your father rang while you were out,' he told her, and her dismay was evident. 'I was able to reassure him that you're fit and well, and that everything is running smoothly.'

  'What else did he say?'

  'Simply that he's enjoying himself, and finding the lectures very informative.'

  'Nothing else?'

  'He sent you his love.'

  Stephanie felt her eyes mist with sudden tears. She missed her father, his friendly tolerance and calm unflappable manner, which combined with a quizzical sense of humour made him a very dear man.

  'There's more,' Jake continued with a cynicism that made her look at him in silent query. His expression bore a watchful scrutiny underlined with a certain hardness. 'Your father's call wasn't the only one I received this morning. It seems my charming ex-wife has been busy. A reporter from the local newspaper rang to confirm that information given them was accurate, and if so, they would like to run an article on how local vet's daughter has been caught up in a whirlwind romance with locum; engagement announcement, photos—the usual thing,' he concluded mockingly.

  'You're joking!' Her incredulity was genuine, and her eyes widened as he shook his head.

  'Unfortunately not.'

  Her fork remained poised in mid-air, her meal forgotten. 'Obviously Alana decided to call your bluff.'

  The edges of his mouth curved to form a wry smile. 'Obviously.'

  'So,' Stephanie began carefully, 'she'll soon discover the truth.'

  His gaze was remarkably direct. 'No.'

  Her eyes swept over his features with mounting disbelief. 'What do you mean—no?'

  'The reporter is due here late this afternoon, together with a photographer.'

  'Look,' she began earnestly, 'it was bad enough when it was a relatively simple deception. If the media get hold of it, the whole town will know.' Her eyes darkened with pain. 'How will it look when you leave?' A surge of anger rose to the surface. 'Or perhaps I should have guessed,' she said bitterly. 'You've already taken that into consideration. Tell me, who is going to jilt who?'

  'I don't like this any more than you do,' Jake intimated brusquely, and she flashed back.

  'But I'm expendable. A convenient "nobody" who'll do in the circumstances. Never mind that I live here, and will have to face a veritable barrage of questions afterwards. That, of course,' she said with considerable sarcasm, 'is incidental to the lies I'll have to tell. What about my father? Have you given a thought to him?' Her eyes blazed with fury. 'Or am I supposed to take him into my confidence and explain that it was all a worthless pretence?'

  'You're overreacting.'

  'The hell I am!' She replaced her fork with care. The desire to throw it down, or preferably, at the hatefully calm countenance of the man seated opposite was a temptation almost too difficult to resist. With unhurried movements she stood to her feet. 'I should never have let you implicate me in the first place. But it stops here, now.'

  Jake viewed her with an indolence that only served to increase her resolve. 'Sit down, Stephanie,' he commanded softly. 'I'm not all through yet.'

  'Well, I am!'

  'At least listen to my proposition before you discount its possibilities.'

  'There's nothing you can say that will make any sense out of this,' she returned heatedly.

  'Sit down, there's a good girl,' he said placatingly, ignoring her venomous glare.

  'Oh,' she hissed, 'don't patronise me! I'm not a naive teenager prepared to fall in with your slightest whim for the promise of a smile and a furtive kiss or two.'

  'Furtive?' he drawled. 'I had the distinct impression that each particular occasion was entirely spontaneous—and mutually enjoyable.'

  There had been several times over the past two weeks when she had been convinced she hated him, but none compared with now. 'Did I give that impression?' The desire for revenge was paramount, and she took it without hesitation. 'You do possess a certain machismo,' she offered sweetly, tilting her head to view him with detached appraisal. 'Your physique is passable, I suppose, if you like an abundance of sinew and muscle.' Her gaze didn't falter. 'As a lover, one can only imagine you're adequate.' She summoned a careless shrug. 'Quite frankly, you don't turn me on at all.'

  A deep rumbling laugh rose from his throat, and the dark speculative gleam in his eyes made her blush.

  'Are you throwing down the gauntlet, Stephanie?'

  'Don't be ridiculous,' she choked. 'You'd be the last man I'd want to know—'

  'In the biblical sense?' Jake slanted quizzically, and with the minimum of movement he reached out and caught hold of her hand. 'Don't run away just yet. We need to discuss how we're going to handle this afternoon's session with the local reporter.'

  Any attempt to wrench her hand from his grasp only met with dismal failure, and short of resorting to a struggle she had little option but to remain where she was.

  'What do you have in mind? A tête-à-tête where we sit holding hands and project a tissue of lies as to how we've both falle
n wildly in love?' She felt close to screaming with pent-up rage. 'Even if I could bring myself to say the words, my expression would portray instant denial. The thought of gazing at you adoringly makes me sick!'

  'Oh, I think you could manage it,' Jake murmured mockingly. 'You can pretend to be overwhelmingly shy, rest your head into the curve of my shoulder, and leave all the talking to me.'

  'No!'

  'When it's time for me to leave,' he continued as if she hadn't spoken, 'we'll let everyone assume I'm busy locating a new practice, after which you'll visit Melbourne, supposedly to check out the accommodation I've- bought, arrange the redecoration, that sort of thing. A week or two later you return home,' he drawled cynically, 'minus engagement ring, and so very thankful you've found out in time what a lucky escape you've had.' He gave a lazy shrug. 'I'm quite prepared to be the villain of the piece. You can attack me with suitable malediction to convince everyone you had just cause.' His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'As compensation, you get to keep the ring, your so-called sojourn in Melbourne will involve an all-expenses-paid holiday, and I'll escort you wherever you want to go; theatres, nightclubs—whatever you choose.'

  'You think everything has a price, don't you?' she derided bitterly.

  'Doesn't it?'

  'I think what angers me more than anything else is the fact that you expect me to comply,' Stephanie managed quietly, stung by his acerbic, tone.

  'Yet if I ask, you'd refuse,' he mocked. 'It's easier this way.'

  'You're forgetting something,' she returned with matching mockery. 'I've already refused.'

  'You'll look foolish if you back out now,' he pointed out silkily. 'It's gone too far.'

  'And you imagine that gives you licence to—'

  'Take your name in vain?'

  'Yes—damn you!'

  Ignoring her, he slid back his sleeve-cuff and gave a slight grimace as he glimpsed the time. 'I'm due back at the clinic. I'll have Maryanne ring through to the house when the reporter arrives.' He was already on his feet, his movements unhurried as he pushed in his chair.