The Outback Doctor's Surprise Bride

by Amy Andrews

  There was a good mix at the table. Frank and his wife were there. He was sitting in for Genevieve. There was Bev, who worked as a receptionist at the nursing home, and then, interestingly, Skye’s three bachelor boys. The vet, Graham. The paramedic, Tom. The pharmacist, Brendan. And they all seemed more than a little interested in Helen. Tom in particular. Every time James glanced down the end of the table, he was watching Helen. And if he wasn’t watching her, Tom was keeping a close eye on him.

  The evening drew to a close with the team—Helen’s Heroes—staying at the top of the leader board.

  ‘I can walk you home if you like, Helen,’ Tom said as the group headed for the door.

  ‘Thanks, Tom, but I’ve got the car so Hopalong…’ she slapped James’s cast as he swung past ‘…didn’t have to walk too far.’

  ‘Hey,’ James protested, pulling up. ‘Watch it. I’m not going to be Hopalong for ever.’

  He grinned down at her and she grinned back. She’d touched up her gloss and her mouth looked very, very inviting.

  Tom glared at him and James met his hostility without flinching and then turned and headed for the car. He felt sorry for the younger man. He looked about Helen’s age and was living in a place where eligible women were as rare as hen’s teeth. No wonder he was acting like a dog protecting an exceedingly juicy bone.

  He waited in the car while she chatted with Tom. He heard her laughter and fought the urge to wind down the window and eavesdrop. It was none of his business who she talked to or what they said. Helen Franklin was none of his business, full stop.

  Helen climbed into the car a few moments later. ‘Well, you were a hit,’ she said. ‘I hope you had fun.’

  Not much of a hit with Tom. ‘I had a great evening.’ He smiled.

  She started the car and pulled away from the kerb. ‘That question about the termite mounds—we wouldn’t have got that without you. It was pretty obscure—how did you know about it?’

  ‘I travelled all around the territory on my bike last year. The termite mounds up there are pretty amazing. I went through a stage where I read everything I could on them.’

  ‘Well, thank you. Hope that head of yours is full of more useless trivia.’

  He laughed. ‘Now, there’s a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one.’

  She ignored him. ‘Because we intend to win the cup for the third year in a row.’

  He whistled. ‘A hat trick.’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  He looked at her and smiled. She smiled back. The amber flecks in her eyes glowed with zeal and her lip gloss glistened as passing streetlights accentuated the lustre. He looked away before he did something stupid. Like reach across and kiss her.

  He had to fight this attraction at all costs. She couldn’t give him what he needed—a casual affair. And he couldn’t give her what she needed—a lasting relationship.

  They pulled into the drive and Helen’s hand shook slightly as she removed the keys from the ignition. She’d had such an enjoyable time and driving home with him seemed so very intimate. She had felt his gaze on her as she’d driven and she desperately needed air.

  ‘So, you and Tom, huh?’ James asked as he manoeuvred his leg and the rest of him out of the car.

  Helen took a few gulps of cool, fresh air. ‘What? Don’t be ridiculous.’

  James raised his eyebrows at her vehement reaction. ‘Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.’

  Helen felt her heart hammering. She didn’t want to be talking about her love life with him. Again, it was too intimate. Something that people who knew each other really well did. She sighed. ‘We’re just friends. We went to school together. He’s like a brother.’

  James looked at her dubiously as he followed her into the house. ‘You can’t be that blind surely? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t look at you as a sister. He fancies you like mad. In fact, all three of them seemed pretty interested.’

  Helen was glad the darkness hid her blush. She’d been aware of the subtle competition between the men for her favour for quite a while. ‘Well, I’m not,’ she said briskly, heading to the door.

  ‘Oh, yeah? Never even been on a date with one of them?’ He hobbled along behind her.

  ‘No.’ She opened the door, flicked on the light and threw her bag down on a lounge chair.

  James watched her from the doorway. He could see a faint tinge of pink in her cheeks. ‘Have they asked?’

  Helen kicked off her shoes and gave him an exasperated look. ‘And this is your business, how?’

  He grinned. ‘Want a coffee?’

  ‘If you’re making.’

  He swung past her on his crutches. ‘Make the cripple do the work,’ he teased.

  Cripple? Even slightly incapacitated, he looked more virile, more capable than any man she’d ever met. ‘I’ll supervise.’

  She followed him into the kitchen, his powerful triceps bunching and relaxing as he exerted his weight down through the crutch, his denim-clad butt taut as he supported his muscular frame on one leg.

  James put his crutches to one side as he prepared the percolator, hopping occasionally and using the cupboards for support. Helen hiked herself up on the bench and watched him, idly swinging her legs. The coffee was dripping into the pot within minutes and the whole kitchen smelled divine.

  ‘Mmm, I love that smell,’ Helen said, inhaling deeply.

  James turned and caught the very interesting expansion of her chest. ‘Mmm,’ he agreed. Almost as good as you.

  He held her gaze for a long moment. She was beautiful. Her hair loose, her shapely legs swinging lazily.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  He shrugged, breaking eye contact as he took two mugs off the mug tree. ‘I was just wondering how come one of those three eager guys hadn’t managed to snare you.’

  Because they didn’t do anything for her. Because they didn’t make her feel the way she felt when she was around him. All light-headed and giddy and like she was going to suffocate. Sure, she liked them but she wasn’t ready to settle for lukewarm. Not yet.

  She watched him pour steaming coffee into their mugs and add milk and sugar. ‘It’s difficult in a place like Skye. There’s me and Glynis from the pub. And there are only three eligible men under forty. Few of the kids that grow up here ever stay. They head for the city. The bright lights. So when your choices are limited you start to see possibilities that you wouldn’t have done if you’d had a wider choice.’

  James slid her mug over to her. ‘I don’t think you’re giving yourself much credit.’

  She stared into the murky depths of her coffee, feeling suddenly depressed. She inhaled the aroma again, hoping for an instant pick-me-up. ‘It’s just the way it is.’

  James slid his coffee along the bench too so he could stand closer to Helen. He stopped about a foot from her thigh and leaned a hip against the counter. ‘So you’re not interested in any of them?’

  Helen blew on the scalding liquid and sipped. She may have been sitting on the bench but she still had to look up into his face. ‘No. And they know that.’

  Her voice was pensive and emphatic all at once. Her jade eyes were illuminated by the flecks of amber. James had his first real insight into dating in a small town. It obviously wasn’t easy.

  They sipped at their coffees for a while. James was acutely aware of her thigh a mere arm’s length from him.

  ‘I get the feeling,’ he said after a few minutes, ‘they’re all just circling, though. Waiting for you to change your mind.’

  Helen nodded. So did she. She gently swirled the contents of her mug. ‘I probably will. Sooner or later.’

  James almost choked on his mouthful. ‘What? Why?’ he demanded.

  Helen was instantly annoyed at his tone. All right for Mr Wind-in-Your-Face, Easy-Rider. Mr Sex-on-Wheels, Girl-in-Every-Town. ‘It’s just practical,’ she said defensively.

  She had to be insane. Right? ‘Practical? How?’

  ‘I do want to marry, you know. Ha
ve children. If the right guy doesn’t come along then I guess I’ll have to take what I can get.’

  James couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Don’t you want more? A grand love? I thought that’s what every woman wanted.’

  Helen snorted. ‘I’d settle for someone who preferred me over the highway.’

  ‘What about passion?’ he pushed.

  ‘Passion is overrated.’ Her parents’ union had apparently been highly passionately but it hadn’t equipped them to cope with the day-to-day realities of life. With the sickness part of their wedding vows.

  He gaped at her. ‘Are you kidding? Passion is vital. Only someone who’s never experienced true passion would say something so naive.’

  ‘Hey,’ she said, putting down her mug, ‘just because I live in the sticks, it doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced passion. I did go to university, you know.’

  James snorted and put down his mug. ‘If it was anything like my uni years, it was more clumsy fumblings and sloppy kisses.’

  ‘Yeah, well, don’t judge me by your ineptitude.’ Helen could feel her breath getting shallower, her voice getting huskier. She could see his chest rising and falling more quickly, hear the rough edge to his breathing. Suddenly the small kitchen felt positively claustrophobic.

  How dared he imply she didn’t know about passion? She’d had a six-month relationship with an ancient history student in her second year that had blown her socks off. They’d been nineteen and insatiable.

  ‘Just because you’re a lousy kisser.’ She knew she was goading him but who the hell had died and made him master of all things passionate?

  James had been called a lot of things in his life but a lousy kisser wasn’t one of them. He noted the agitated rise and fall of her chest, the catch in her breath as she spoke. This conversation was totally ridiculous and he’d never been more turned on in his life. Lousy kisser indeed. We’ll just see about that.

  He put his hand on her thigh. ‘Care to put that to the test?’

  His touch was burning a hole in her jeans and Helen realised she had moved them into dangerous territory. His turquoise eyes were blazing with something she’d never seen before. But on some base level she knew what it was. Lust. Pure and simple. At nineteen there had been desire. This was more. This was grown-up. This was virile male animal ready to pounce.

  She swallowed. Her heart tripped. ‘James, I…’

  He applied pressure through his hand and slid her petite body across the bench, easily obliterating the small space separating them. He put his hands on the bench on either side of her thighs, capturing her in one easy movement.

  Their faces were close. He could feel her breath on his cheek, smell the coffee. ‘You think I’m a lousy kisser?’ he asked softly, staring at her mouth.

  Helen swallowed again, her throat suddenly as dry as day-old toast. His mouth was so close, well and truly invading her personal space. She flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips and saw his pupils flare. ‘I—’

  His mouth descended on hers swiftly, cutting off her words. Her lips were soft and pliant and he plundered them in a brief, hard kiss.

  ‘You were saying?’ he asked, breaking away with the little willpower he had left.

  Helen was breathing heavily, dazed and reeling from the onslaught. His lips were moist and she wanted them back on hers again. She wanted them everywhere.

  ‘I—’

  He cut her off again, claimed her mouth again and her moan went straight to his groin, stoking the heat raging there another degree or two. Her arms wound around his neck and he moved his hands from the bench to cup her backside. In one swift, bold movement he pulled her forward and gave a deep satisfied groan when her legs parted to cradle his hips.

  His tongue demanded entry and she opened to him as she had opened her legs. He probed her mouth and her tongue danced with his, revelling in the taste of him. He pulled her against him harder and she could feel the ridge of his erection pressed against her.

  Without conscious thought she wound her legs around him. His groan empowered her, the squeeze of his hands at the juncture of her buttocks and thighs emboldened her. Her hand snaked up into his hair as she rubbed herself against his hardness. His swift indrawn breath was dizzying.

  Their breathing was the only sound in the room. But it was loud enough. Harsh gasps, desperate pants and flaring of nostrils sucking in much-needed oxygen. Just listening to the lack of control in his breath, the way his hand trembled as it pushed through her hair was making her hot.

  In fact, she was hot all over. Hot and needy. She didn’t want this kiss to end. She wanted to lie back on the bench, stretch out and let him kiss her all over. Afterwards she could plead temporary insanity but right now she wanted more.

  The harsh jangle of the phone split the air. Helen pulled back from the kiss as abruptly as if someone had poured cold water on them.

  ‘Leave it,’ he said, breathing hard, dropping a chain of kisses down her neck.

  She closed her eyes and felt the pull of his lips against her skin. Oh, dear God, how had they ended up here? The phone rang despite her turmoil. ‘No,’ she said in a shaky voice, pushing against his chest. ‘Let me down.’

  James drew in a ragged breath, curled his hands into his pockets and stood back to give her her freedom. His heart pounded in his chest, his head spun and his groin ached as she walked away.

  Helen strode into the lounge room. It was nearly eleven o’clock. The caller ID alerted her it was Elsie calling. Good timing, Elsie. She picked up the phone with shaking fingers.

  ‘Elsie?’

  There was silence at the other end but Helen was still a little distracted from the kiss.

  ‘Elsie?’

  Helen thought she heard some noise. A bit like heavy breathing. A prickle of alarm shot up her back, dissipating the sexual energy.

  ‘Is that you, Elsie? Is everything all right?’

  Still nothing. She hung up the phone and picked up her bag.

  ‘What’s up?’ James asked, swinging into the room.

  She glanced up at him and then wished she hadn’t. His hair looked all tousled from where she had run her fingers through it and his gaze still smouldered with turquoise heat.

  ‘Not sure,’ she said briskly, searching around the bottom of her handbag for her keys. ‘That was Elsie’s number but when I answered there was silence.’

  He frowned. ‘Could it be a prank call?’

  ‘Hardly. She’s in her eighties.’ She located her keys and slipped her shoes back on.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To Elsie’s,’ she said, heading to the door.

  ‘It’s eleven o’clock.’

  ‘Exactly. Something’s up.’

  ‘There can’t be too much up if she was able to dial your number.’

  ‘I’m on speed dial, she’d only need to hit one button.’

  ‘Call an ambulance, then,’ he said, following her.

  Helen stopped, her hand on the doorknob. ‘I’m not going to get Tom out of bed until I know if he’s required. If an ambulance pulled up only to find that Elsie’s accidentally knocked the phone off the hook she’d be mortified to have wasted poor Tom’s time and precious resources. I’ll check on her first.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, following her outside.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked as she realised he was right behind her.

  ‘With you.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not letting you go out in your car on the highway by yourself in the dead of night.’

  Helen laughed. ‘Well, thanks for being all proprietorial, but this is Skye.’

  He shrugged. ‘If something’s happened, you’ll need a doctor anyway, right?’

  Helen weighed the pros and cons quickly. Having him in close confines after what they’d just shared was going to be awkward, but what if Elsie needed a doctor? She couldn’t take the risk to save herself ten minutes of strained conversation wit
h a man who had just kissed her senseless.

  ‘Right.’

  She climbed into the car and started the engine, pulling away as soon as James had shut his door. The silence built between them and Helen searched for an inane topic. But her head was too full of a hundred dire possibilities over Elsie and a blow-by-blow rerun of the kiss.

  James cleared his throat. ‘About before…’

  Right. Yes. Good idea. Clear the air. Get in before he gave her the it-was-great-but-it-didn’t-mean-anything spiel. ‘It was a mistake. I know.’

  It was. It definitely was. He’d made enough in his life to know. OK, usually they didn’t make him feel this good but there was a first time for everything. ‘Yes,’ he said absently, trying to grapple with his buzzing body.

  ‘You’re here for four months. I’m a lifer. It doesn’t matter how good it was—’

  James turned to her. ‘It was good, wasn’t it?’

  Oh, man, it had been incredible! She rolled her eyes. ‘That’s not the point.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No,’ she said, shooting him an exasperated look. James had forgotten the point. ‘What was the point?’

  ‘I believe it was to prove that you weren’t a lousy kisser.’

  He chuckled. ‘That’s right. So?’

  As her face flamed she refused to look at him. ‘Look, I don’t make out on kitchen benches. This isn’t me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe you should.’ He grinned. ‘You’re really good at it.’

  Her toes curled traitorously in her shoes at his hearty compliment.

  ‘That’s not the—’

  ‘Point,’ he interrupted.

  ‘You’re leaving. That is the point. And I’m not going there.’

  He sighed. She was right. He didn’t do serious relationships. The only serious relationship he’d ever been exposed to had been his parents’ and that had been enough to put him off for life. It was imperative he didn’t let a mind-blowing kiss and a woman he barely knew negate hundreds of painful reminders.

  ‘You’re right, of course. And I will drop it. But only if you admit I’m a terrific kisser.’