Coming Home to Katoomba

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Coming Home to Katoomba Page 5

by Lucy Clark


  And she wasn't dating Stephen. She was currently unattached.

  Oliver tilted his head to the side as a thought struck him. 'Why didn't you tell me about Stephen sooner?' Stephanie opened her mouth to explain but he continued, answering his own question. 'You were peeved with me. I don't blame you. My behaviour was way out of line. So, to pay me back a little, you thought you'd string me along for a bit.'

  'I had no idea you had jumped to those conclusions until we were outside the health resort.'

  'Well, if you'd answered the question earlier, I wouldn't have jumped,' he countered, fatigue starting to get the better of him. It was all a storm in a teacup but he found it hard to control his reactions to this woman. She drew him in so completely he didn't know the difference between up or down. At the same time, she stirred his anger and rational thinking until it was a murky mess.

  'So it's my fault?' she asked incredulously. 'You're blaming me for not telling you my life story the instant we met?'

  Oliver exhaled harshly and raked a hand through his hair, pushing the lock back from his forehead the way he'd done when she'd met him. 'I apologise again, Stephanie. I didn't mean to imply that at all. Look, I think we both need some sleep.' And time to think things through, he added silently.

  'Agreed.' Her tone was soft.

  Still, he didn't move. He stood where he was, not moving, their gazes locked. Tension spiralled through her, her heart rate increased and her mouth went dry. Her reaction to him was immediate and by the way his eyes were darkening with desire, it was obvious he felt that same attraction. Never before had a man been able to affect her so easily and yet so powerfully as Oliver could. It scared and thrilled her at the same time.

  Her tongue came out to wet her lips and she swallowed, trying to moisten her throat. 'You do feel that, don't you?'

  Although her words were soft, his gut tightened and the urge to touch her increased. 'Yes.'

  At the single-word admission, she nodded and allowed a slow sigh to escape her parted lips. 'Thank goodness. I didn't want it to be just a figment of my imagination.'

  'It's not.'

  His deep voice washed over her and she loved the way it made her feel, all warm and feminine and mushy inside. Their gazes still seemed locked, impatient for them to move things forward, but they both knew that couldn't happen— not yet. 'What do we do about it?'

  Oliver took her hand in his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. She gasped at the contact, goose-bumps spreading up her arm and over her body. 'We get some sleep, we slow it down and we get to know each other.'

  Her smile encompassed him once more. 'Good answer.' Unwilling to break the contact straight away, she held firmly to his hand as she rose to her feet. She was buzzing on instinct as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 'Mmm, you smell so nice.'

  'So do you.' He closed his eyes for a second, savouring the moment. The feel of her lips against his roughened jaw, her scent as it entwined itself about him. He wanted to grab her to him, press his lips to hers and plunder her mouth to the very depths of her being. Instead, he continued to savour. She may be direct and forthright, it didn't mean she wasn't vulnerable beneath her happy-go-lucky exterior.

  She chuckled. 'You think so? Even after the hectic day we've had?' She shifted back and met his gaze once more, their hands still clasped between them. 'I think I'm in serious need of a shower.'

  'No. You smell...delicious.'

  'Good enough to eat, eh? Must be the vanilla essence I dabbed on this morning.'

  'Vanilla essence?'

  'Complaints?' She raised her eyebrows, happy and excited to be back in the 'flirting zone' with Oliver. She could cope in the flirting zone. She knew what the rules were and how to use them to her best advantage.

  'No. No. Not at all,' he quickly assured her, giving her hand another squeeze before he reluctantly let go. Stephanie sank down into the chair again, glad of its support as she knew there was no way her legs were going to do the trick.

  'Go and find your new home, Oliver.'

  He continued to look at her and it was ten seconds before he moved. Finally, he shifted and the bubble they'd been caught up in was broken. 'Good advice. Can I borrow your key to the office? I need my suitcase.'

  'Of course. I'd completely forgotten.' She shifted, not trusting her legs just yet, and pulled the key-card from her pocket. 'Don't worry about returning it. I'm going to finish up here and head home.'

  'You don't need it to get your bag or keys? You did leave them in there, didn't you?'

  She waved his concerns away. 'I'll get Security to let me in. Connor, the security guard on tonight, will have to walk me to my car anyway. Take it and go.'

  'Glad to hear this hospital employs the correct safety protocols.'

  'My house—before it burnt down—wasn't that far from here, and on occasions the security guys used to walk me all the way home.'

  'Just like the last little piggy?' He ignored the feeling of jealousy at the thought of other men ensuring her safety. The urge to protect her himself was becoming more overwhelming with every moment he spent in her company. Which was proof that he should go... But he couldn't. He wanted to stay here, to talk with her, to find out more about her...to see her safely home himself. Surely she wouldn't be much longer. He could wait.

  Stephanie smiled. 'Yes, except, I don't go "wee, wee, wee". Go and rest. You're starting to look very tired.'

  He raised his eyebrows. 'Is that so?'

  'Yes, it is. Now go and let me finish up here.'

  'Am I distracting you, Dr Brooks?'

  'Yes, as a matter of fact, you are. Now go.' She waved her hand in the air, effectively dismissing him.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say he'd wait for her when Sophie walked over to where they were and slumped down into a chair. 'What a night.'

  'You can say that again.' Stephanie grinned. 'Not a nice initiation for poor Oliver.'

  'Poor Oliver,' he drawled as he moved away, 'has survived much worse than tonight.'

  'Get going. We're scheduled to be hitting the paperwork in your new office in a few hours' time, so go.'

  'I've survived paperwork before, too.'

  'Oh, will you just go and leave us in peace?' She laughed. 'I've never seen a doctor so reluctant to leave the hospital before.'

  'All right. I'm going, I'm going.' He smiled at both women. 'See you later today.'

  Both women watched him walk away and then turned to look at each other.

  'Mmm-mmm. He's a nice one,' Sophie said. 'I'm not one to drool over the doctors, like Lauren, but he's definitely a nice one.'

  'No argument from me.' They gave a mutual sigh then smiled. 'I'd better finish up or I'll still be here when Oliver comes back.'

  Sophie laughed. 'Then let's finish up what you need to do so you, too, can get some rest.' Half an hour later Stephanie had finished her work, showered quickly and changed into the spare clothes she kept in her locker and was being walked to her car by Connor, the security guard. He was pushing fifty, a little overweight but would certainly be able to defend her against unwanted persons if necessary.

  'You drive carefully,' he warned her. 'You look dead on your feet.'

  'It's not far but I promise I won't close my eyes until I'm tucked up in bed.'

  'Good girl.' He smiled at her before shutting her car door and waiting until she'd started the engine. As she drove carefully through the fog, she wondered whether she had the energy to make a pot of relaxing herbal tea or whether just brushing her teeth and lying down would be better.

  As usual, she headed into the small back lane behind the house, rather than heading in the front way which was off a rather busy side street. She parked her car, climbed out and locked it. She was surprised when the outside sensor light didn't come on but brushed the thought away, rationalising she'd accidentally switched it off when she'd last left the house.

  Stephanie unlocked the door and headed inside, deciding tea was first on her list. She
headed to the kitchen, switching on the light and dumping her bag, coat and scarf onto the bench before filling the kettle.

  A loud yell rang through the house and she immediately switched off the tap, trembling. What was that? Her heart was pounding wildly as she put the kettle down and walked quickly over to her bag, reaching for her cellphone. She dialled Stephen's number, her finger on the 'connect' button as she slowly walked up the corridor, flicking on lights as she went.

  As she neared the bathroom, she heard the sound of taps being switched off. Had someone broken into her house just to have a shower? It was then she realised she hadn't forgotten to switch the sensor light on. Someone else had switched it off. Her mind started racing. If whoever it was had wanted to hurt her, she doubted they'd be in the shower.

  The immediate threat she'd felt disappeared but now there was only confusion. Still, with her finger poised and ready on her cellphone, she called, 'Who's there?'

  She stood in the hallway, just outside the bathroom door and waited. 'Hello?'

  A moment later the door was wrenched open and she jumped back in fright. Her hand covered her mouth as she bit back a scream. Steam floated out and a man, clad only in a black towel, stood before her... wet legs, knobbly knees and all.

  Stephanie's gaze met his and her eyes widened in total shock. Her jaw went slack and for a moment she was totally incapable of speech or thought.

  'Stephanie!' Oliver's eyes were as wide as her own. He was as much in shock as she was but had found his voice first. 'What are you doing in my house?'

  ' Your house?'

  'Yes. Well, no.' He closed his eyes for a moment as though trying to shut her out. He opened them just as quickly. 'Er...the house I'm renting.'

  'You're renting this place?' She felt a prickle of uneasiness ripple over her entire body. 'Oh-h,' she groaned, her stomach churning itself into knots.

  'Yes. What's the matter? Are you ill?'

  'No.' There'd been a mix-up. Her friend who owned the house had obviously not informed the estate agency that the place was now occupied. She frowned. Or perhaps she was supposed to have done that. 'Oh-h,' she groaned again. 'I need to sit down.' She turned and walked back to the lounge room, dropping her phone onto the coffee-table. She allowed the comfortable wing-backed chair to envelop her as she brought her feet up so she could hug her knees. 'What a mess,' she whispered, her eyes closed almost in agony. Not only was she now sharing a house with Oliver Bowan, she had the electric vision of him clad only in a towel to add to her ever-increasing bank of memories. How was she supposed to fight any attraction to him when he was so close...and not even dressed?

  The thought of sliding her fingers over his broad shoulders, down his firm torso, which was covered in a fine layer of dark hair, and whipping that towel away made her almost hyperventilate.

  'Stephanie?'

  Her eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice and she worked hard to control her breathing as the man himself came into view. This time, thankfully, he was at least partly clothed, the pair of well-worn denim jeans moulded to his shape, outlining his firm thigh muscles which had previously been hidden beneath the towel. In fact, Stephanie wasn't sure what was worse. Oliver, wet and clad in only a towel, or in form-fitting denim, his torso bare. Either vision was one she was willing to ponder upon for quite some time, but how did she cope with the emotions they evoked?

  She swallowed and simply stared, losing the fight to get her shallow breathing under control, let alone her self-control. He pulled on a creased T-shirt as he bent to sit in the chair opposite her. She couldn't control the sigh that escaped her lips as his body was hidden from further view.

  'Stephanie?' She forced herself to meet his gaze and found him frowning at her. 'Are you all right?'

  She tried to nod but wasn't sure how successful she was. Thankfully, she'd managed to close her mouth so she didn't look so much like the drooling fool she was.

  'I know you've had a fright but it's OK. We can work this out.' He raked a hand through his wet hair, making it stand on end even more than before. She couldn't help the smile that touched her lips.

  'This is funny?' he asked.

  'No.' The word didn't come out too well and she cleared her throat. 'No,' she said firmly, but the smile didn't disappear. 'Your hair...' She pointed. 'It's kind of standing on end.' He quickly went to flatten it down again. 'No. It looks cute.'

  'Cute? Stephanie, we have a major dilemma here and all you can think is that I look cute?'

  Her smile increased and she raised her eyebrows. 'Something wrong with that?'

  'Stop teasing. This is serious.'

  She made a concentrated effort to pull her features into a somewhat serious expression. Oliver rolled his eyes and stood. 'Well, I'll be the serious one here. You can just make jokes.'

  Stephanie chuckled as she watched him pace, barefoot, up and down in front of her. Oh, yes, he was very cute and getting cuter by the second. 'Oliver. Sit down. It's all right. As you've legally rented this house, I'll stay here the night and then move in with Stephen until I can find somewhere else.'

  'No. Don't say that. You make me feel as though I'm turfing you out in the cold.' He paused and thought for a moment. 'You've been through your own troubles, with your house burning down and then moving here.'

  'Honestly, Oliver, it's not as though I have a lot of stuff to move. Stephen won't mind.' But even as she said the words, she frowned. Stephen had offered her his spare room when the fire had happened but after the first week of being with him, she'd opted out. His life was very precarious at the moment and she knew if she stayed with him longer, it might damage the relationship he was building with Nicolette. There was no way she was going to jeopardise that. Her brother's need for happiness was long overdue and she was certain Nicolette could provide it. No. She couldn't move back in with Stephen but Oliver didn't need to know that.

  'Why are you frowning?'

  She quickly changed her expression. 'Nothing. It's fine.' She put her legs on the floor and went to stand, but found that her body wasn't yet ready to follow commands. She settled back. 'I'll be gone first thing in the morning...or later today as it's just after four o'clock.'

  'No. Stop. Just wait. There's no reason for you to move. I was planning on moving soon anyway. This place was just a stopgap for a few weeks until I could find permanent housing. It'll take months until your home is rebuilt.'

  'What? Are you saying we should share?'

  Oliver shrugged. 'Why not? I've shared houses with other female colleagues before...during med school and strictly platonic,' he added.

  Stephanie nodded slowly. She, too, had been in a group house, sharing with both males and females, during med school. Of course, one of the men had been her brother but that hadn't made any difference. They'd all been coming and going at all sorts of hours and chances were, with Oliver taking over the new director's position at the hospital, he'd be the one working the longer hours. Longer hours working out those hateful rosters! She couldn't help grinning at the thought but then turned her thoughts to the issue at hand.

  'If we do decide to do this, then you shouldn't have to pay rent. The fact that I'm already in the house as a guest means that you should be here under the same conditions.'

  'I'm more than happy to pay.'

  'It's all right. My friend won't mind. He's very generous.'

  'He?' Oliver raised a questioning eyebrow, then said quickly, 'Forget it. It's none of my business.'

  Stephanie smiled. 'His name is Gregor and he and his wife bought this house when Stephen and I were about two years old. He is also our godfather so, honestly, Oliver, I doubt he'd insist on payment when he hears of the mix-up. If anything, I'm the one that should be paying to rent this house as I think it was my responsibility to notify the estate agency that I'd moved in.'

  'I guess you've had a lot on your mind.'

  She nodded. 'I guess I have.' She tried to stand again and was thankful that this time her legs seemed willing to co-operate wi
th the signals her brain was sending. 'So it's settled, then. We'll just stay here and share the house until you find a more permanent residence.'

  Oliver slowly shook his head.

  'What now?'

  'There is one other spanner I'd like to throw into the works.'

  'Oh?' Stephanie reached out and placed a hand on the arm of the chair. Was he going to mention the undeniable attraction between them again? Would they be able to fight it? They'd just have to, she rationalised. It was only for a few weeks and they'd both be busy at the hospital. She waited for him to speak, watching again as he raked his hand through his hair, a smile automatically twitching at her lips. Yes. Definitely cute.

  'It's my daughter.'

  Stephanie's eyes were once again open wide, staring at Oliver. 'You have a daughter?'

  'Yes. She's eight and she's due here on Wednesday evening.' He stopped and groaned. 'That's tomorrow. I came on ahead to try and get things organised.'

  Stephanie sank back down into the chair as her legs gave way. Oliver had a daughter! She shook her head as though the equation didn't compute.

  'My ex-wife, Nadele, hasn't played fair with the custody of Kasey since we divorced six years ago. This time, though, with me moving back to Australia, she put up all sorts of fights because I wanted to take Kasey out of the country. The fact that Nadele doesn't even want Kasey around has nothing to do with it. She just doesn't want me to have her.' He was speaking more to himself than to her and the way his eyes had darkened with pain and disgust surprised Stephanie. Up until then, she'd seen Oliver in several moods but this hadn't been one of them.

  'What does Kasey want to do?' she ventured quietly.

  'Kasey? She's only eight.'

  'So? Eight-year-olds do have minds of their own, Oliver.'

  'You don't know anything about the situation,' he remarked, brushing her words away.

  'You're right. I don't.' Stephanie tried not to be hurt at his words. It was quite true. She hardly knew anything about him and nothing at all about custody battles over eight-year-old girls. This isn't your problem, she told herself firmly, and this time forced her legs to comply as she stood.

 

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