Meredith Webber - Taming Dr Tempest

Realising his thoughts had strayed into dangerous territory, he made his way carefully back to where this introspection had begun.

‘You cut your hair off so it wouldn’t smell?’

The lips he’d been trying to not look at curled into a teasing smile which, as a man who’d consigned all women to the ‘only when needed’ bin, he shouldn’t have noticed at all, let alone registered as sexy.

Belladonna sexy?

More dangerous ground?

Definitely not! Lack of sleep, that was all it was. He’d been up half the night at the hospital, finishing reports and case-notes, and, naturally enough, though he’d not been on duty, answering calls for help when emergencies came in.

‘Mostly for the smell but also the dust,’ his companion was saying. ‘Dust?’

This conversation was rapidly getting out of hand. He knew she was speaking English, so it couldn’t be that parts of it were lost in translation, but—

‘Bulldust,’ she added, as if this explained everything.

In Nick’s head it just added another level of confusion, and he was sorry he’d started the conversation, although politeness alone meant he’d had to say something to her.

‘Is that an expletive? A slightly more proper form of bull—?’ he heard himself ask.

This time she didn’t smile, she laughed.

How long since he’d laughed?

Laughed out loud in that carefree way?

Relaxed to the extent that a laugh could be carefree?

‘You’ve never been out in the bush before, have you?’

He heard this question, too, but was too distracted by the laughter—the laughing face of the woman beside him and his inner questions—to respond immediately. Besides, the captain of the flight was introducing himself and telling them when they were expected to arrive in Murrawingi, adding that the weather there was fine and warm, and he didn’t expect any turbulence on the flight.

‘Murrawingi?’ Nick found himself repeating. ‘I thought the place we were going to was called Murrawalla. That’s assuming, of course, you’re the nurse half of the hospital team.’

‘No airport at Murrawalla,’ the nurse half explained. ‘As far as I know, the pair we’re replacing will take this plane back to Brisbane, leaving us the hospital vehicle to drive to Murrawalla.’

‘Well, that’s fairly stupid!’ he muttered, annoyed he didn’t know all these things—or perhaps annoyed that she did!

Or was he more unsettled than annoyed? Unsettled?

Because he didn’t know? Control had become important to him—he did know that!

Control had kept him on track when his world had imploded, Nellie ripping out his heart as casually as she’d—

Control!

But the pain he still felt in his chest when he thought of the baby was beyond control. No wonder he didn’t laugh out loud these days.

‘It’s fairly stupid, having to drive to Murrawalla?’ the woman queried.

‘No,’ he grumbled, clamping down on the pain, dismissing his unsettling thoughts and catching up with the conversation—reminding himself that he was looking to the future, not the past—and that he was heading west to learn. ‘Calling places by nearly the same names.’

His companion smiled again.

‘It happens all the time when aboriginal names are used. Further south, there’s Muckadilla and Wallumbilla right next door to each other and both are fairly similar names so it’s hard to remember if someone comes from one or the other.’

‘Were you the geography whiz at school?’ he asked, not because he wanted to know but for some perverse reason he wanted her to keep talking.

So he didn’t have to think about the past?

Probably, but, for whatever reason, it was weird when he considered he tuned out a lot of the conversations going on around him without any problem.

Idle chatter irritated him—although had it always?

More questions buzzing in his head! No wonder he felt unsettled…

‘Just well travelled,’ Bel—no, he had to start thinking of her as Annabelle—said.

The attendant came through to ask if anyone wanted a newspaper or magazine, but although Nick said no, Annabelle took the morning paper.

‘You don’t want to talk?’ he asked, contrarily put out that she was going to ignore him. ‘I thought this might be a good time to get better acquainted.’

She turned towards him and raised dark, expressive eyebrows.

‘We’re going to be living together for the next two months, not to mention driving huge distances together and camping out together—don’t you think we’ll have enough time then to get acquainted?’

Annabelle wasn’t sure why she was being so scratchy. Was it the shock of finding out that Nick Tempest was going to be her companion for the duration of the appointment?

Or the slightly uncomfortable feeling she’d always experienced in his presence?

Not that she knew him well—more by reputation than in person. But the reputation—playboy, womaniser, ambitious workaholic—made him the last person in the world she’d want to get to know, not to mention the least likely person in the entire hospital—if not the planet—to be on this plane, heading for a two-month stint in the far Outback settlement of Murrawalla.

The thought brought its own question.

‘Why are you here anyway? When I had my briefing, Paul Watson was coming out for this term.’

Her companion—did she call him Storm or Nick? Dr Tempest?—smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile.

‘Paul’s girlfriend’s pregnant and they’ve moved the wedding forward.’

‘And you were the next bunny on the list?’ Annabelle offered, certain there was no way this particular man would have volunteered.

But his next smile suggested she was wrong. It was positively smug.

‘I volunteered.’

Annabelle just stared at him.

‘Well, didn’t you?’ he demanded.

She nodded then added, ‘But I had a reason—I wanted the extra bonus money.’

He sat further back in his seat, as if studying her from a distance might make things clearer.

‘Well, well—monetary gain not dedication and self-sacrifice? I wouldn’t have suspected that of you, Belladonna.’

‘As you don’t know me at all, you’ve no right to be making assumptions,’ Annabelle snapped, really scratchy now as the man’s arrogance shone through the sarcasm. ‘And my name is Annabelle.’

He smiled as if glad he’d riled her, adding, with smarmy insincerity, ‘Of course, that just slipped out. Annabelle! Actually, it’s quite a pretty name. Old-fashioned—’

‘Reminds you of a cow,’ Annabelle finished for him, sure he was going to add the tease she’d had to endure at high school.

But he surprised her by laughing, a low rumble of a chuckle that lit his eyes and made his rather harsh features soften.

‘Don’t be silly, we all know Christabelle’s the cow. Annabelle’s different—classy.’

Which left her with nothing to say, although maybe that didn’t matter as Nick/Storm had turned away and was looking out the window at the whiteness of the clouds through which they were now flying.

Leaving her free to turn her attention to the paper, except…

‘Why did you volunteer?’

She shouldn’t have asked, she’d known that, but, well, he’d asked her…

This time his smile, as he turned, looked as if it had been drawn on his face and there was a suggestion of wariness in his eyes.

‘Why would my reason be any different from yours?’

‘Because you drive a Porsche and I drive a beat-up fifth-hand VW?’

It was too flippant an answer and as soon as the words were out she wished them back. As if it mattered what he drove! And hadn’t she heard some story about the car?