he lifted his arms and fitted her helmet, pulling the straps so taut under her chin Abby was sure she might choke, the worst part of it all was that while she suffered this brief indignation there was no place else to look than at his very flat, very brown stomach.
OK, he was sexy, Abby admitted reluctantly, in a sort of overgrown, salt-of-the-earth way.
Very sexy, she conceded, eyes level with his epicentre. Even his belly button was sexy, which up to this point Abby had been sure was an impossible feat. Belly buttons were just that—belly buttons. But Kell’s, well, the hair around it circled gently, and Abby found herself momentarily mesmerised by the strange beauty of such a normally nondescript object.
‘Third time lucky.’ Kell grinned, climbing nimbly in front of her and shouting over his shoulder as the bike sprang into life between her thighs. ‘Let’s go.’
Abby had never been on a motorbike in her life. In fact, she’d barely graduated to getting the training wheels taken off her push bike before books had beckoned, or a drop of pond water placed under her father’s antiquated microscope had held more excitement than riding around the back garden in circles. And now here she was in the middle of nowhere, roaring along a dusty red road clinging on for dear life to a man she’d only just met.
It was terrifying, exhilarating and strangely…Abby’s mind clicked over, struggling against the whipping hair around her face to find the word she was looking for.
Sexy.
There it was again.
Thousands of dollars’ worth of chrome catapulting them along the rough, unsealed road, and it would be a lie by omission not to recognise the added thrill of Kell’s snaky hips beneath her hands, her fingers coiling through the loops on his shorts, and unless she wanted to fall off the palms of her hand had nowhere else to go other than resting on his warm, bronzed skin. Abby kept her body well back, though, leaning against the back box, terrified she might be catapulted forward and forced to touch more of him.
It was over too soon, and vague memories of the waltzers at the fairground surfaced as Abby took Kell’s hand and attempted to dismount with at least a shred of dignity. Her legs felt as if they didn’t quite know what to do and the ground still seemed to be moving.
‘Sorry.’ Kell grinned. ‘I didn’t realise it was your first time, you should have told me.’
‘Why?’ Abby shrugged. ‘Would you have treated me more gently?’
Ouch! The sexual connotation had never been intended, and as Kell grinned ever wider Abby followed him up the steps of a massive house, wondering where her attempt at flirting had blown in from.
Yes, he was sexy, yes, he was a fine specimen of a man and all that, but a farm labourer with a thing about bikes certainly wasn’t on Abby’s agenda.
She was here to work.
Three months of grass roots medicine and she was out of here, and if Bruce’s plane collapsed, no matter, she’d walk if she had to.
‘Abby!’ A very pregnant, very pretty, red-headed woman came out of a fly door and stood at the top of the steps, the massive laundry basket she was carrying in no way covering up the enormous swell of the baby within her. ‘I’m Shelly, we spoke briefly on the telephone. I’m so sorry Ross isn’t here to meet you.’
‘That’s no problem.’ Abby smiled in what she hoped was a friendly fashion. ‘Kell made me very welcome.’
‘Did I?’ Kell asked with a vaguely surprised grin. ‘I wasn’t even trying.’
‘I was being polite,’ Abby muttered, as Kell’s grin widened.
‘Tell you what, come to the watering hole with me tonight and meet the locals, we’ll show you a real Tennengarrah welcome. I’ll even leave the bike at home this time.’
‘I might just give it a miss, thanks.’
Even though his offer had been imparted in his usual laid-back style, Abby couldn’t help but feel a flurry of butterflies as she said no. OK, he wasn’t exactly asking her out on a date, but it was certainly the closest Abby had come in a long time.
A very long time.
‘You should go,’ Shelly pushed happily. ‘If I wasn’t the size of a baby elephant, I’d take you there myself.’ Putting the basket down, Shelly rubbed her back and gave a weary smile. ‘Come inside. We’ll have a drink and then I’ll take you over to where you’ll be staying—it’s that one.’ She pointed over to any one of about three white houses scattered on the perimeter of the property. ‘It’s all ready for you.’
Privately all Abby wanted to do was grab the keys and head off but, not wanting to be appear rude, she smiled appreciatively and followed a rather cumbersome Shelly back up the steps, hesitating slightly as she realised Kell was joining them.
‘Kell,’ Shelly said as he followed them in. ‘You don’t have to babysit me. I’ve got Abby here now, she is a doctor.’
‘I’m not babysitting,’ Kell insisted, but Shelly shook her head.
‘So why have you spent the whole afternoon painting the baby’s nursery when Ross was going to do it at the weekend?’
‘When did Ross ever get a weekend off?’ Kell said, collapsing onto the couch and placing two massive feet onto the coffee-table before him, which had Abby cringing, though Shelly didn’t seem remotely bothered. ‘Anyway, I need the cash.’
For some reason Shelly seemed to find this hilarious and picking up a T-shirt she tossed it in Kell’s vague direction. ‘Well, if you’re staying you can at least put some clothes on.
‘Kell thought I needed a rest,’ Shelly explained to a politely smiling Abby. ‘So he decided to make lunch.’
‘You don’t have to tell everyone,’ Kell grumbled, pulling a very white T-shirt over his head, much to Abby’s relief. Now at least she’d be able to look at him without blushing. ‘Trouble is he ended up wearing a bottle of mayonnaise.’
‘It’s not my fault Ross screws the lids on so tight.’ He cast a brief look to Abby. ‘I don’t usually walk around half-naked. Sorry if I scared you.’ Fortunately, Abby was saved from answering as he turned back to Shelly. ‘Look, if you really don’t want me around I’ll head off, but I think I’ve at least earned a cup of coffee.’
Which, Abby reasoned, at the rate Shelly was moving, would probably give Bruce plenty of time to have Ross safely back home. This man took his duties seriously.
‘Abby, would you like a coffee?’
‘Thanks.’ Abby smiled. ‘If you show me where things are I’ll make it. You look as if you’re a bit busy.’
‘Just a bit,’ Shelly admitted, gesturing to the mountains of laundry adorning every available surface. ‘I’ll feel so much better when all this is done.’
Abby chose to ignore Kell’s upwardly mobile right eyebrow as she fumbled around the kitchen, watching with undisguised bemusement as Shelly proceeded to tear the wrappers off a pile of new baby clothes and bundle them into yet another laundry basket.
‘So
