like that.’ She hesitated. ‘And when I called your mother, she told me where you were working. I thought it was probably my only chance to see something of the outback and catch up with you…’
So there it was. Jake felt his gut clench even harder. She’d put it straight on the line. But letting her stay would mean his life would be turned on its head. He didn’t want it and he certainly didn’t need it. He opened his mouth to speak, but then just shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have come, Maxi.’
She gave an uneasy half-laugh. ‘Well, thanks for the unwelcome. Why shouldn’t I have come? Your mother said your workload was horrendous. I actually thought perhaps among other things, I could help out…’
He snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! You’d last a week and then you’d be screaming for the air-conditioned comfort of a city hotel.’
‘I’m tougher than I look,’ she protested, and he actually gave the semblance of a dry smile. ‘And you know we work well together.’
‘Maxi, listen,’ he said, serious now. ‘Living out here is light years from what you’re used to. And just now it’s hell on wheels. The drawbacks for you would be onerous.’
Her face had disbelief written all over it. ‘Like what?’
His heart revved. He couldn’t have her here. Not after all the hurt. Hell, did she think he was made of stone? He dragged his brain into gear. ‘Your complexion, just for starters. You’d be a sitting duck for melanoma.’ He warmed to his hastily invented excuses. ‘Believe me, I wouldn’t like to be responsible for anything as ugly as skin cancer happening to you.’
‘That’s a totally spurious argument,’ she countered in her smooth, well-modulated voice that had always played hell with his senses. ‘The actual cause of melanoma is unknown. And unlike you, Doctor, I didn’t run around with my skin exposed to harsh sunlight as a child when it’s assumed the damage is done.’
‘We lived five minutes from the beach. Everyone ran around in the sun. And I did wear sunscreen.’
She arched an expressive brow. ‘How do you explain those two lesions on your back, then? They could have turned nasty.’
‘Just as well you excised them for me,’ he dismissed with a shrug.
She felt a gentle tide of warmth wash over her skin at the memory. He’d been barely a week in her department. For a man she had been doing her level best to avoid, the intimacy of seeing him half naked while she’d operated had almost undone her.
‘And they turned out to be benign,’ he reminded her now.
‘You were lucky.’ And this was an absolutely crazy conversation. ‘Look.’ She held out her arms in front of her. ‘My skin hasn’t suffered so far. And I’ll cover up while I’m here.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re not staying. How did you get here, anyway? You weren’t on the plane.’
‘I hired a car in Sydney and drove here.’
He felt a glitch in his heartbeat. She’d driven over a thousand kilometres on some of the most isolated roads in the country just to see him again? ‘I can’t believe you did that.’
‘Oh, I took it in easy stages,’ she countered lightly. ‘It was…fun.’
He looked at her broodingly. ‘It was downright dangerous. What if you’d been targeted by a low-life?’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘Or had a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere?’
She gusted a small impatient sigh. ‘I have a mobile phone.’
‘And there was I, imagining you needed a jack to change a wheel,’ he said with a deadpan expression.
She poked a small pink tongue at him. ‘I stopped for petrol here and there. I asked the garage guys to check things. They were great.’
‘I’ll bet,’ he observed, studying the rosy mouth into which her tongue had retreated. A mouth with its tiny freckle on her bottom lip. A mouth that was made for kissing. And in a second some instinct, entirely male and protective, swamped him and locked itself around his heart.
He had no choice here. No choice at all. He couldn’t risk her turning temperamental on him and taking off into the sunset. ‘All right. You can stay for a week until the next flight out.’
‘That’s pathetic. I can’t do anything useful in a week!’
He got to his feet. ‘Well, it’s all I’m prepared to let you have.’ And, please, heaven, by then he’d have acquired the gumption to be able to handle this situation with Maxi with cool detachment.
‘Fine, then.’ Maxi shrugged and spun off her chair. But she was by no means giving up on this. ‘The pub looks pleasant enough. I’ll stay there.’
‘You’ll stay with me,’ he countered, the glint in his narrowed gaze as it skimmed over her, confirming her impression that he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight.
She bit back a smile. Well, that might work to her advantage. They still had something wildly unfinished between them whether Jake admitted it or not. She tilted her head and said innocently, ‘I appreciate you letting me stay with you. But won’t people talk?’
‘Talk, schmork,’ he dismissed. ‘Tangaratta is in the middle of a drought. Folk are too busy just trying to survive and keep food on the table to be concerned about their doctor’s living arrangements.’
‘I did notice the country looked rather parched,’ she said seriously. ‘How bad is it—really?’
‘It’s bad.’ He rolled back his shoulders as if to slough off an aching weariness. ‘Depression, exhaustion and stress everywhere. We’re already trucking water in for general use in the town.’
She nodded, moving closer to him, as if in some way to share his load. ‘So, I guess folk are pretty desperate.’
He nodded. ‘Farmers especially. Outlaying money they don’t have to plant crops that die before they’re barely out of the ground. In some cases selling up and getting nothing for their livestock. Families having to split up to go after jobs elsewhere. There certainly aren’t enough to go round locally.’
‘Suicides?’ she asked with some perception.
‘Couple.’ Jake dipped his head, the muscle in his jaw pulled tight. ‘One only recently.’ He stopped, unwilling to burden her with the harsh reality of it all. And especially he didn’t want to tell her about how it had affected him personally and made him question his worth as a rural doctor.
But Maxi, being Maxi and knowing him far better than he gave her credit for, soon sensed his need to unload his self-doubt. ‘So, tell me about it,’ she encouraged gently. ‘Was it someone you knew personally? A patient?’
He gave a hard-edged laugh. ‘Still the counsellor, I see.’
A flood of colour washed over her face. He’d made it sound almost an insult. ‘Call it debriefing, if that
