Marion Lennox
Storm Haven
© 1994
CHAPTER ONE
‘NIKKI RUSSELL, you’re killing yourself!’
Nikki looked up from her books. The causes of renal failure were swimming around her tired mind, and it took a moment before she could focus on her elderly housekeeper. Beattie Gilchrist stalked forward and planted a mug of hot chocolate on top of Nikki’s open text. ‘I know you asked for coffee,’ she said darkly, ‘but I’ve no intention of helping you stay awake. It’s bed you need, Dr Russell, and that’s a fact.’
Nikki smiled wearily and pushed her heavy glasses from her nose. ‘Thanks, Beattie. I’m coming to bed in a moment.’
‘I know. I know.’ Mrs Gilchrist folded her arms and glared at her employer. ‘In a few hours more like. You delivered the Raymond baby last night, you were up at six to Amy, you had a full day at the surgery today and it’s near to midnight now. Odds are you’ll be called out again tonight and then where will you be?’
‘Exhausted,’ Nikki admitted. ‘But the exam’s only three weeks away, Beattie.’
‘And old Doc Maybury told me there’s not the least need for you to be sitting the exam yet. He said most doctors wait five years from graduation before even thinking about it, and you’ve been practising less than that. You’ll drive yourself to an early grave, Nikki Russell, you mark my words!’
‘Beattie, I’m only twenty-seven.’ Nikki smiled placatingly at her housekeeper and pushed stray curls of flaming hair back from her face. ‘I’m young and fit. Hard work’s not going to kill me.’
‘It will if it’s all you do.’ Beattie sniffed. ‘It’s no life for a girl, buried here as Eurong’s solo GP. You should be out having fun while you’re still young. You’ve a little girl who’s growing up without knowing her mother can be fun and happy.’ She hesitated. ‘Honestly, Nikki, dear, it’s been five years since Scott…’
Nikki’s smile faded and her face closed. ‘What I’m doing now has nothing to do with Scott.’ She grimaced. ‘Or maybe it has. I had fun with Scott. And look where that got me.’
‘But-’
‘Thanks for the chocolate.’ Nikki’s eyes told her housekeeper to keep away from the raw spot-the aching pain that had been there for five long years. ‘Beattie, I really need to study.’
The housekeeper stared at her young employer in concern. Beattie had known Nikki Russell since childhood and was almost as fond of her as she was of her own family. Nikki’s nose was back in her text but Beattie tried one more time.
‘While this locum’s here,’ she started tentatively. ‘While he’s here, couldn’t you get away for a bit? Take Amy and have a few days right away…’
‘I’ve employed the locum so I can study,’ Nikki said shortly. She shoved her glasses higher on to her nose as she buried her face determinedly in her text. As she did, the front doorbell pealed. ‘Damn!’ she swore.
‘I’ll go,’ Beattie sighed. ‘Oh, my dear, I didn’t want you to be called tonight.’
‘Leave it, Beattie.’ Nikki echoed Beattie’s sigh, closed her book and rose. ‘You go to bed. I’ll deal with it.’
Nikki made her way swiftly through the darkened house to the front door, sending up a silent prayer that whoever was waiting for her had a minor problem. The last thing she needed tonight was major trauma-not when she was so tired.
Still, she might not have a choice. If there was a medical emergency there was only Nikki. On this bleak thought she swung the front door wide-and found herself staring into the most arresting blue eyes she had ever seen.
This was no emergency. The man was standing half turned, as if he had been soaking in the view across the moonlit valley to the sea beyond. There was no panic here.
‘Dr Russell?’ The man smiled as she frowned across the veranda at him. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Luke Marriott.’
Luke Marriott…Mechanically Nikki held out her hand and had it enveloped in a much larger one. The stranger’s grip was strong and warm, intensely masculine. He stood holding her hand and smiling down at her, and Nikki felt her secure, dull existence shift on its foundations.
She had never seen a man like this. Never. Not even Scott…
Good grief! What on earth was she thinking of? Nikki gave herself a mental shake, trying to rid herself of the overwhelming impression of-well, there was no other word for it-of masculinity!
Nikki was tall, but this man was taller by several inches. He was strongly built, with fair, unruly curls that looked in need of a good cut. His face bore two or three days’ stubble and his jeans and open-necked shirt were stained with sweat and dust. There was a smudge of dirt across the strong, wide features of his face, and the deep blue eyes laughing down at her in the porch light were creased as though constantly shielded from the sun.
‘Luke Marriott…’ Nikki said blankly.
‘Your new locum,’ the man explained patiently. ‘I know I’m not due until tomorrow but I hitched a lift on a prawn boat rather than wait for the bus.’ He grinned ruefully down at himself. ‘I hope that explains the dirt-and the smell. I’m not usually so perfumed.’
Nikki wrinkled her nose. Now that he mentioned it…ugh! There was a definite smell of old fish about him.
‘The prawn boat was down in Brisbane for a refit,’ the man explained ruefully. ‘One of the deck hands lives here so I filled his place until we arrived. What I’d thought would be a great two days’ holiday turned into a solid two nights working.’ He looked down to his grubby sports shoes. ‘I hate to think what’s on these,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll take them off before I come in. That is-’ he raised his eyebrows in mock-enquiry ‘-if you intend asking me in.’
‘I…’ Nikki shook her head as through trying to dispel a dream. Luke Marriott. She had advertised for weeks for a locum and had been so delighted when this man had rung to accept that she’d asked little further of him except his registration details. But…
‘But we’ve organised your accommodation at the hospital,’ she stammered. ‘There’s a room there.’
‘There’s not,’ he told her. ‘I’ve been there and the night sister’s apologetic, but Cook’s car’s broken down and if they want Cook on hand for breakfast she stays. They seemed to think their breakfast is more necessary than I am-and Cook won’t share.’
‘But…but you can’t stay here…’
‘Look, I only take up six feet of floor space.’ The man’s humour was beginning to slip. Clearly he’d expected a warmer welcome. ‘Lady, I’ve come almost a thousand miles to do a locum for you. Do you expect me to find a park bench?’
‘I…’
‘Your night sister said Whispering Palms had at least six bedrooms and it only held three people. Now, if I promise to rid myself of prawn bait and berley, and not indulge in rape or pillage, can Whispering Palms stretch itself to accommodate me?’ The stranger stepped back as he talked, his eyes following the long lines of generous verandas with the rows of French windows opening out to the night breeze. ‘Or do you want me to go back to Brisbane?’
Nikki pulled herself together with a visible effort. Of course there was no reason to refuse to accommodate her new locum. If only…Well, if only he weren’t so…
So…so she didn’t know what! She stood aside and held the door wider.
‘Of…of course not. Come in, Dr Marriott. Welcome to Eurong.’
‘I’m not very,’ he said, looking quizzically down at her. What he saw made his deep eyes crease in perplexity. Nikki Russell was a stunner in any man’s books. Her fabulous red-gold curls framed an elfin face with huge green eyes which refused to be disguised by her too heavy glasses. She was slender-almost too thin for good health-and
