Dating The Millionaire Doctor(4)

When the fires had ripped through here, almost fifty percent of  properties on the ridge had been destroyed. The loss of life and  property had been so massive there'd been international television  coverage. Horrified, he'd contacted Rob to see how he could help.

'The lodge and the winery are okay,' Rob told him. 'We're almost ten  miles from where the fire front turned back on itself, so apart from  smoke on the grapes there's little damage. I've been asked if we can  provide emergency accommodation, if it's okay with you. And the  farmhouse on the ridge …  There's an animal-welfare place wanting  headquarters. When the wind shifted, pushing the fire back on itself,  your place was spared. Just. There's still feed around it, and the house  itself is basically okay, but your tenants are moving off the mountain.  They can't cope with the mess and the smell, and they're going to her  mother's. Can the animal-welfare people use it for six months or so?'

'Of course,' he'd said, so it was now a hospital-of sorts.

But as he looked around he thought he wouldn't have minded seeing it as  it once was-a gracious family home. And he wouldn't have minded seeing  the bushland around here as it was either. The fire had burned to within  fifty yards of the house and then turned. Beyond that demarcation, the  bush was black and skeletal. Green tinges were showing through the ash  now, alleviating the blackness, but six months ago it must have been a  nightmare.

He stared out the window until Tori bustled back into the room, carrying  a bucket of steaming, soapy water. She looked like a woman who didn't  stay still for long, he thought. Busy. Clinically efficient. Cute?

Definitely still cute. She was in ancient jeans, an even more ancient  T-shirt and a white clinical coat with a torn pocket. Her curls were  again scraped back into a ponytail. Last night she'd pulled them back  with a ribbon. Today they were tied with an elastic band. She  looked … workmanlike.

But workmanlike or not, he thought, nothing could hide her inherent  sexiness. Why had he wasted time last night thinking she was dowdy?

When she left the room she'd looked confused. Now, however, she looked  relieved, as if she'd spent her bucket-filling time figuring things out  as well.

'I know now why you're here,' she told him. 'You're Old Doc's son. Jake.  I loved your father.' She hesitated as if she wanted to say something  else, but then thought better of it.

'So you're here to put this farm on the market,' she continued briskly.  'That's fine, but first I need to thank you.' She abandoned her bucket,  put her hands out and grasped his, holding them in the same strong grip  of the night before, a grip that made him wonder how he'd ever thought  her a mouse. The connection felt strangely … right.

But Tori wasn't noticing connections. She was moving right on.

'I can't tell you how grateful we've been,' she said. 'It's been  fabulous-and Barb said you won't take any rent. It's been truly  lifesaving.' She looked across at the little koala in her cage, and her  business-like tone faltered a little. 'And now you'll sell. That's fine.  We don't need it any more. As soon as this one goes … '

'She's the only one here now?'

'We release as soon as we can,' she said, efficient again. 'Wild animals  respond to captivity with stress. There's a few that are too damaged to  survive on their own, but we've relocated them all now to bigger animal  shelters. Places where they can have as close to a normal life as  possible. So yes, there's only this little one here now. And me.'

He frowned. 'You're living here?'

'I …  Yes. I hope you don't mind. It's easier.'

'You're on twenty-four-hour call?'

'Not many of my patients buzz me. It's not as hard as it sounds.' She  was opening the door onto the verandah and ushering him out, almost  before he was aware of what she was doing.         

     



 

There was a small dog lying on an ancient settee by the door. He'd seen  him as he arrived. He was some sort of terrier, a nondescript  brown-and-white mutt who hadn't bothered checking Jake out when he  arrived. Too old to care? He glanced up now, gave a feeble wag of his  tail and then went back to what he was doing.

Which wasn't sleeping, Jake realised. He was staring down the valley, as if he was waiting for someone.

Tori touched the dog's ears, and the dog nosed her palm and went right back to looking. Waiting to go home?

'You'll be looking forwards to going home,'he ventured, and saw a flash  of pain, hidden fast. Uh-oh, he thought. Stupid. If she was staying  here …  She'd be one of the hundreds burned out.

She hesitated and he knew he was right, but it was too late to retrieve  the situation. 'I guess I must be,' she said slowly before he could  think what else to say, and she shrugged. 'No, of course I am. It's time  I moved on.'

'Is that what you were doing last night-moving on?'

'What I was doing last night was being conned by my friend. I gather you  were conned as well. So when do you need me to move out?'

'I don't-'

'It'll be soon. You'll need to clean the place up before you put it on  the market. There's a lot of smoke damage. Do you want to look through  now?' She glanced at her watch. 'I have a teleconference in five minutes  with our local shelter staffers, but you could look around yourself.'

'I'd be happier if you could show me personally.'

Why had he said that? Surely he could see what he needed from here. What  point was there doing a detailed inspection, and why did he need a  personal tour from Tori?

She had him fascinated. There was something about the way her hand had  shaken his, brisk, efficient, but also … there was something vulnerable  about her. Something he couldn't figure out.

She wasn't sounding vulnerable, though. She was organising. 'I can show  you,' she said, 'but if you want the personal tour it'll have to be  later in the day. But tomorrow would be better.'

'Is nine in the morning all right?'

'Sure. When are you going back to the States?'

'Monday.' Six days away.

Suddenly six days seemed okay. If he kept the resort there was only this  place to organise. He could be here again tomorrow and be shown over  the property by Tori. Those jeans …  He'd never seen jeans look this good  on a woman.

'I do need to get in to my teleconference,' she said, a bit sharply, and  he pulled himself together. What was he thinking? This woman was a  country mouse-a vet who lived on the other side of the world to him. If  she hadn't stood him up on a five-minute date …

Was that what this was? Bruised ego?

'Thank you very much for saving my koala,' she said, starting to edge away.

'What's she called?'

'I don't name them. You get attached if you name them.'

'You don't get attached?'

'I try hard not to. Now if you'll excuse me … '

'Of course,' he said, but he was still surprised when she stepped back inside the house and closed the door sharply behind her.

She wasn't a time waster, then, Dr. Nicholls. He didn't waste time  either-but he couldn't help feeling piqued. Most women reacted to him  differently to the way this woman had.

What was he thinking?

Nothing. There was nothing to think about. He gave himself a mental  swipe to the side of the head and headed back to his rental car. He  should get back to the States fast if he thought shabby little country  vets were cute. If he thought shabby little country vets were  fascinating.



He wasn't to know that one shabby little country vet watched him until he was out of sight.

Boy, was she hopeless. She twitched the smoke-stained drapes back into  place and glowered at nothing in particular. One gorgeous male, and here  she was, feeling … weird. Which was dumb. The last thing she needed in  her life was another man.

So why had she let Barb talk her into five-minute dating?

Because, with the leaving of the army of volunteers, she'd become so lonely she was starting to talk to walls.

Dad. Micki.

Don't go there.

There weren't even enough animals left to talk to. She returned to the  makeshift surgery and stooped to check the little koala. She was barely  conscious. So small. So battered.

Maybe it had been a mistake to keep on trying.

'Live,' she whispered, almost fiercely. 'You must get better. You must start living again.'

She knew she must, too.

She glanced out the window to the west and flinched like she always did.  She could just see the chimney stack which was all that was left of the  house she'd lived in forever.         

     



 

Her dad. Her sister.

'Move on,' she whispered. 'Get yourself a nice little town house in the  city. You can be a pet vet. Take care of allergies, dew claws,  vaccinations.'

Maybe she would. It was just … she didn't feel ready yet.

In a couple of weeks this little koala should be ready to move on to a  wildlife refuge and this place would be sold to be a home again. But not  her home. She'd sheltered here for long enough. It was time to face the  world again.

She knew she could. She'd schooled herself to be independent.



So why was the thought of Jake Hunter walking away so disturbing?

'So what's the story with Tori?' he asked Rob.

It was after dark. There were only two guests staying at Manwillinbah  Lodge right now, and both had gone to bed early. Rob had organised a  theatre night-an old showing of Casablanca. He'd set up a themed dinner,  decorated the sitting room with black-and-white posters, even worn a  hat-but both his guests were weary and just wanted their own beds.