The Temptation Test Read online

  ‘A note for you? Carpenter?’ she said, looking vaguely around.

  ‘Carla, one of the patients, was going to leave it,’ Jena explained. ‘With directions how to get to the house where she’s living.’

  ‘Oh, Noah’s house,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll tell you where it is.’

  ‘Is it close enough to walk?’ Jena asked, anxious about distance as the mechanic hadn’t finished with her car though he’d promised to deliver it to the hospital by six-thirty at the latest.

  ‘No distance at all,’ the woman said.

  She proceeded to explain, the directions so good that Jena found her way without needing the note, which had turned up under the telephone directory.

  She smiled to herself as she saw the house. Not exactly the home she’d have expected a bachelor doctor to inhabit, but ideal for a group of young people. Set on a huge block, it nestled back amid trees and shrubs, wide verandahs stretching across the front and down each side. Behind, Jena could see the high fence of a tennis court, while to one side the blue of a pool beckoned invitingly.

  Carla greeted her at the front door.

  ‘I’m the only one at home. The others aren’t back from work yet. Come on in.’

  She led Jena through a wide hall with bedrooms off each side and into a huge room which obviously ran the width of the house. It was a combination sitting and dining room, with a kitchen separated off by a high bar. Cane stools, their cushions covered with a teal and terracotta print, lined the bar while similarly covered cane armchairs nestled in a group at the far end of the room.

  In between was a dining table, cane-based and glass-topped, the chairs echoing the prints with covers of either terracotta or teal.

  Jena felt a woman’s presence in the colour scheme, and the question of Noah’s marital status occurred to her again.

  Perhaps he was separated.

  ‘We know we’re only here temporarily so we’re trying to keep the place as clean and tidy as possible,’ Carla said, ushering her through the room and out to a back verandah, where a barbecue area had been built beside the tennis court. ‘Great house, isn’t it? It’s nearly as good an inspiration for me as meeting the backpackers. This is where I’m headed. I want a house like this.’

  Jena looked around.

  ‘I think it would be more affordable in a country town than a similar property in the city.’

  Carla grinned at her.

  ‘Then I guess I’ll have to get used to living in the country.’

  They settled on casual canvas chairs grouped together under a gazebo and Jena, more to take her mind off the zillion questions about Noah this house had thrown up, spoke first.

  ‘OK. Tell me what you plan to do—what ideas you’ve had already.’

  Now Carla looked hesitant.

  ‘If only we knew!’ she sighed. ‘Seems we can’t agree on anything—well, not so much not agree as every time someone has an idea we all leap on it and forget the previous one, so all we’re getting is confused.’

  ‘What actually happens on the day?’ Jena asked.

  ‘They have a parade. Bob, who organises the work teams and drives the bus to take us out to the various farms, told us about it. It’s the Saturday before Christmas. The parade starts near the public library, goes down the main street, past the shops and ends up in the park where there’s a bit of a fair with stalls selling food, dodgem cars and merry-go-rounds for the kids—that kind of thing.’

  ‘You mentioned a float,’ Jena prompted when nothing more seemed to be forthcoming. ‘Are you going to make one?’

  Carla sighed again.

  ‘We thought about it, but none of us know the first thing about building anything and Bob pointed out we’d need a vehicle of some kind to go under a float and propel it along, so then we thought—you know how parades have clowns and things dancing along beside the floats? We thought we might do that.’

  Jena knew exactly what they meant and could picture people in costumes accompanying floats in other parades. She had a vehicle they could use and, no doubt, the carpenters could knock up a float…

  ‘The next idea was that, instead of dancing, we might do something in the park at the end of the parade. Someone suggested statues. Have you seen those buskers who pretend to be statues? They’re usually painted gold or silver and they stand very still, but occasionally change position and people look at them for ages. We thought maybe no one had done that kind of thing in Kareela.’

  Great! Jena thought. This girl thinks I can choreograph statues!

  ‘I wouldn’t have asked, only Kate said you’d travelled overseas a lot and I thought you might have some good ideas.’

  ‘Let me think about it,’ Jena said. ‘What if I call in again—say, the day after tomorrow? Will you be here or will you be back at work?’

  Carla touched the dressing just above her temple.

  ‘No work for four days—doctor’s orders,’ she said. ‘I’ll be here.’

  Jena said goodbye and was pleased when Carla suggested they walk out past the pool. What she’d seen of the house had been so appealing she wanted to see more.

  The pool didn’t disappoint her, nestled like it belonged in its sandstone surrounds, bright-leaved plants around it giving it the appearance of a tropical haven.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Carla said, echoing Jena’s thoughts.

  ‘Very,’ Jena agreed, more certain than ever that Noah had either bought this place with a woman or for a woman.

  So where was she?

  Had she died?

  A recent bereavement might explain his quixotic behaviour—the mixture of kindness and anger.

  Possible reasons for Noah’s behaviour occupied her on the walk back to the hospital, although by the time she reached the car park consideration of his behaviour had taken second place to a review of his physical attributes—and why her body should find them so attractive.

  Her vehicle was there, parked in front of the hospital.

  She found the keys, and a bill for the repairs, under the front seat as promised, so she got in and drove out of the public car park and around to the staff area, parking beside Noah’s Jeep. The pristine condition of his vehicle made hers, borrowed from her brother for this sojourn in the bush, look ready for the scrapyard.

  So what, she told herself as she scribbled a note to tell him she’d gone back to the lake. At least having independent means of transport lessened the time she had to spend in his company.

  Leaning across the bonnet of the Jeep to secure the note under a windshield wiper, she was thinking of the man who owned it and why attraction worked the way it did when his voice startled her so badly she actually leapt in the air.

  ‘Pinching my windshield wipers?’ he asked.

  Jena pressed her hand to her heart, telling herself it was fright causing the rapid pulsing.

  ‘Leaving you a note,’ she managed to reply, though the quavery note in her voice was a dead give-away.

  ‘To tell me you don’t require a lift?’ he queried, his eyebrows rising with his voice.

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ Jena replied, her voice stronger now. ‘As you see, I have my car and I’m ready to leave now, whereas you won’t be going until after seven, I think you said.’

  Then, to set some rules between them if this living together thing really was going to happen, she continued, ‘And as you fed me last night, I’ll return the favour tonight, but I assume you’ll have your own supplies over at the house—enough for the couple of days you need to stay. As you noticed, I’ve limited storage space so I tend to shop every second day—just buying what I’ll need.’

  He grinned at her.

  ‘BYO food, in fact.’ The smile broadened, and even twinkled in his eyes, which, as far as Jena could remember, were usually either cool or appraising.

  Twinkling, they were mesmeric.

  ‘Plenty in both fridge and freezer and as I’ll want to check on Greg and Rose this evening I’ll bring some supplies back with me from there.
I’ve a small portable fridge that runs on gas so I won’t be taking up space in yours.’

  Jena managed to get her mind off his eyes in time to catch most of the conversation. However, she couldn’t produce much in way of a reply so she said, ‘Good!’ Which, she realised, made her sound totally inhospitable.

  Unable to think of a way to redeem things, she added, ‘Well, I’ll see you later.’ And climbed into the LandCruiser.

  ‘But I’m on my way. The meeting finished early.’

  Once again, Noah was preventing her from closing a car door. He was standing so close, just beyond the window, that the bones beneath his skin, which gave the rugged contours to his face, were very obvious. And the lips, which she looked at next as a diversion from his strong bones, seemed to be sliding towards a smile.

  ‘At least let me drive you,’ he said, his eyes—which had drawn a quick glance—repeating the entreaty. ‘I mean, it was, as you said, my own quixoticness—quixoticity, I’m not sure of the word—that got you into this. Driving you out and back would be the least I could do to repay you.’

  ‘Repay me for not wanting you there?’ Jena asked, but she found her own lips were answering his smile. She just hoped her eyes weren’t twinkling!

  She had to remind herself of all the reasons she didn’t want to be driving back and forth to the lake with Noah, but as he continued to hold the door for her, she couldn’t think of one which would sound reasonable said out loud. In the end, she climbed meekly out of the LandCruiser, locked the door and walked across to where he now held the passenger door of the Jeep open for her.

  ‘I’m only doing this because it seems stupid not to travel together,’ she told him as he seated himself beside her.

  ‘Heaven forbid I should take it as a craving for my company!’ he said. ‘I assume that’s what you mean?’

  Jena shrugged. It came close but more of her reluctance stemmed from her own weakness—her inability to control the way her body reacted to the man.

  Right now, the very last thing she needed in her life was a man and the complications a man’s intrusion invariably entailed.

  Even if she didn’t win the job on the challenge, she’d have to find some other new direction, and any new career would need total focus if she was to succeed. She’d tried mixing work and pleasure before, and had lost out on both the relationship and the job she’d wanted. This time she was determined to succeed, to prove, despite what people might think, she was more than just a face with the right look for the moment.

  Noah watched the way her brow grew ruffled and recognised it as an outward sign of a mind in turmoil.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked, when they were clear of town and he needed less concentration on the task of driving.

  She spun to face him, her brow even more furrowed, her eyes puzzled but no less beautiful.

  ‘Talk about what?’

  He grinned at the innocence she injected into the question.

  ‘Whatever’s troubling you. Sometimes it helps.’

  Puzzlement gave way to suspicion.

  ‘Are you in angel-mode again?’ she demanded, then she folded her arms across her breasts in a defensive he was beginning to recognise and added, ‘And even if you are, this is one thing no angel can work out. It’s personal.’

  ‘Love problems?’ he persisted, although fairly sure such prying persistence was far from angelic.

  ‘None of your business,’ his passenger snapped. Then, as if she didn’t want any doubt lingering in his mind, she followed up with an equally snappy, ‘No!’

  There was a beat of silence, then apparently whatever ire he’d stirred up couldn’t be contained for she waded on, ‘And why would you ask that question anyway? Are you assuming the only thing that could possibly be on a woman’s mind is love? Is such an assumption based on your opinion of the female sex?’

  Jena paused for breath, but not for long enough to give him time for rebuttal. ‘If you’ve been spreading it around, some woman probably murdered you. That would fit right in with the angel-in-limbo notion!’

  Noah felt his own ire building, and deeply regretted having opened his mouth.

  He shouldn’t have offered to drive her home—that had been his first mistake.

  Or did he have to go back to his rash decision to come to Kareela? Was that where all the trouble had begun?

  ‘Can we forget the angel thing?’ he pleaded, as his thoughts worsened, instead of lessening, his confusion. ‘I’m real, not much fun, according to you, and possibly quixotic, but flesh and blood nonetheless.’

  He heard a murmured comment, but doubted if she’d said what he thought she’d said. Images of flesh of the female variety—softly scented, lightly tanned, yielding—had been making incursions into his mind since he’d first met the woman, but she was a woman who could have had any man she chose, so she was unlikely to be lusting after a confused, usually angry, country doctor like him.

  He turned off the highway.

  ‘Have you spoken to the police? Are they happy with the arrangements you’ve made for Greg and Rose?’

  Noah smiled to himself. He must definitely have misheard. Here he was, thinking attraction, and she was thinking of his visitors.

  ‘I spoke to the sergeant as soon as I got to work. I’d phoned him earlier when I found Greg back at the camp site and promised to update him. He’d be remiss if he didn’t at least speak to Greg. He’ll probably suggest some kind of counselling, but there’ll be no criminal charges laid.’

  Jena caught the hint of a smile as he considered, then responded to her question. Would it have been a broader smile if he’d known what she’d been thinking? Why she’d had to drag Rose and Greg into the conversation to sidetrack her mind to safer subjects?

  Was Noah a modern enough man to accept that women had licentious thoughts about men? Or would he have been shocked to learn of her body’s increasingly distracting reaction to his?

  She had no idea, but common sense suggested she’d be better off not knowing. Given the problems even a fleeting love affair could generate at the moment, the less she knew of the enigmatic Noah Blacklock the better.

  ‘I’ll drop you off then call over to the house to check on them,’ he said, his voice startling her out of her thoughts.

  ‘No swim tonight?’ Jena queried, as much to make conversation as for any other reason. Dusk was falling fast and she’d already crossed a swim off her immediate ‘to do’ list.

  But Noah surprised her with his reply.

  ‘Maybe later,’ he said. ‘There’ll be an almost full moon tonight so the lake will be well lit. And given it’s free of sharks, crocodiles and other predators, we’d be safe enough.’

  We’d be safe enough? The words echoed in Jena’s head. She had a feeling that swimming in a moonlit lake with this man would be so far removed from safe she shouldn’t even contemplate it.

  And the dangers she envisaged didn’t include sharks or crocodiles.

  Although she did feel hot and sticky, and a swim in the moonlight would be magical…

  He stopped the car and she hopped out, pleased to have some time to herself so she could make sure she didn’t have underwear flung about the place.

  But as she walked into the shack and saw the bag Noah had dropped earlier, the enormity of what he’d proposed really struck her. The shack had one room, with a bench in one corner where she’d set up her kitchen. On the back verandah there was a primitive bathroom with a—thankfully—functional lavatory. That’s if she tipped a bucket or two of water into the tank each day. There was also a patch of cement under a now-dead shower, where she washed—with another bucket of water.

  At least it was private, she reminded herself, looking around the main room once again.

  Old wood-framed, canvas camp-stretchers lined the walls, obviously used as somewhere to sit by day and beds at night. She was using one as a cupboard, all her clothing laid in neat piles on it. Warned by Matt, she’d brought a thin rubber mattress to sof
ten the one she slept on—slightly—but Noah wouldn’t have such a luxury.

  Apart from the beds, there was one chair, rickety, another chair, doubtful, and a table she’d taken all day to scrub before she’d put her box of food on it. She’d spread a piece of bright material she usually wore as a sarong across the rest of it to act as a tablecloth, and that was the extent of her housekeeping.

  A rumble of an engine powering through the sand told her Noah had returned, and she moved across to her ‘kitchen’ and peered into the little gas refrigerator.

  She had steaks and more steaks, even a packet of gourmet sausages. The little gas stove had a barbecue plate, and when she’d made her plans, she’d decided grilling meat on it would be the easiest way to prepare a meal.

  ‘Greg and Rose are fine,’ her visitor announced, coming into the room and looking around.

  The gathering darkness had softened its decrepitude, but Jena still understood that the whistle Noah gave wasn’t one of appreciation.

  ‘Shall I light the lamps?’ he asked, and Jena chuckled.

  ‘Lamp, singular, and, yes, you can light it. I’m always terrified I’ll break the mantle and then have to put on a new one and start all over again.’

  He lit the lamp while she started the gas burner under the barbecue plate and dug around in her cool box for the makings of a salad. When she’d tried the refrigerator before leaving home, it had frozen both lettuce and tomatoes, so bringing the cool box had seemed like a good idea, providing she remembered to put a re-frozen ice-brick into it each day.

  ‘I’ve a folding chair in the back of the Jeep—I’ll bring it in,’ Noah suggested, then he laughed and added, ‘Actually, I’ve two folding chairs. If you’ve been sitting on that ancient old thing, you’ll end up being grateful I came to stay.’

  ‘Not in this lifetime,’ Jena muttered to herself when he was safely out of earshot. Seeing him lighting the lamp and carry it across to the table threw an aura of intimacy around them. Or so her body seemed to think.

  Her mind definitely didn’t want to go there!

  ‘What do you do after dinner? Read? Play patience?’