How to Win the Surgeon's Heart

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How to Win the Surgeon's Heart Page 14

by Tina Beckett


  And when she breathed his name, he knew it was time. Reaching between them, he found that sensitive spot that he knew she liked. Stroked it, teased it, while kissing her and whispering how much he wanted her, how good it felt to be inside her. How he needed to feel her let go against him.

  He quickened his pace, their bodies tangled together in a heap that he hoped he could never unravel. He thrust harder, touched her with more urgency until she was arching against him, gasping for him not to stop. He didn’t. Drove home with all he had.

  And then he felt her give way beneath him, her hips moving frantically as she came. He could hold back no longer, pouring everything he had into her with a fury that surprised him. He buried his face against her neck and rode out wave after wave of sensation, trying to draw it out as his pumping got slower, less frantic.

  Then he was still, enjoying the feeling of being joined with her in the soft aftermath, as her hands stroked up and down his back.

  Surely she’d felt what he’d felt. He opened his mouth to say the words, but something stoppered them in the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure what it was. Or why.

  This was all happening too fast. They’d known each other what? A few weeks?

  She’d had one terrible relationship; he didn’t want to do anything that might scare her off. So maybe it was best just to let things ride. They could take it slow. He could take her to the gala as his date.

  Introduce her to his parents.

  Was he kidding? They didn’t even come into the equation when it came to Sasha.

  He felt her shift beneath him and realized a lot of his weight was on her.

  “Sorry.” He rolled off her, only to have her come onto her side, her fingers playing in the hair of his chest.

  “Don’t be. That was...delicious.”

  He laughed. Leave it to her to come up with a term that was so unexpected, and yet so perfect. It was why he lo... No. Don’t jinx it. Take it slow, remember? “It was, was it?”

  He dragged her on top of him, kissing her, then smoothing her hair back so he could look into her face. “Now, I’m hungry. So I’ll fix us something to eat. Then,” he slid his mouth down the side of her jaw, “then, once it’s good and dark, and the rest of the world is in bed, I want to take you outside and rock you to sleep in that hammock that’s sitting under the trees.”

  She bit his lip. “And if I don’t want to go to sleep?”

  “Oh, sweetheart. The sleeping won’t take place for a very long time.”

  * * *

  Sasha didn’t wake up in the hammock. But true to his word, he had rocked her to sleep out there. Her face heated at all the things they’d done out in the open air. She had no idea you could do that many things in a rocking bed. A flash of worry went through her that she quickly banished. It didn’t mean he’d learned those things with some other woman.

  The thought of him spending time in that hammock with someone else made her slightly nauseous. Maybe because of the way it molded to your body in a way that a mattress didn’t. It was close and intimate, and so very sexy.

  Don’t think about it.

  She turned her head to find him already awake, his hair wet from a recent shower. He was lying on the bed propped on his elbow watching her. And he smelled divine.

  It made her feel kind of sweaty and grimy and she wasn’t sure why.

  And when he smiled and bent down to kiss her, she ducked out of the way. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

  “I don’t care.”

  She laughed. “Well, I do. It’s not fair for you to be all clean and fresh. Let me get a shower, then we’ll talk.”

  “Okay. First I want to ask you something.”

  Something about the way he said that made her blink. “What is it?”

  “It’s about the gala.”

  She relaxed. “Can’t it wait until after I shower?” For some reason, she really needed to be on an equal footing with him.

  “Sure. I’ll get you a towel.” He got off the bed and waited until she’d scrambled off as well before moving out of the room. Now that she could actually look around without the thrill of kisses and distractions of lovemaking, she was surprised by how large the room was. It was probably twice the size of her bedroom. She wasn’t sure why that felt important, but it did.

  She fidgeted and then looked for her clothes, not finding them. “Nate?”

  He reappeared holding a thick beige towel. Her clothes were folded neatly on top of it.

  “Did you wash these?” Austin had never done anything like that. It would have never even crossed his mind. But somehow it made her feel guilty. How long had Nate been up?

  “It was no problem. There is shampoo and soap in the bathroom. Help yourself.”

  “Thank you.” She padded to the bathroom that she’d briefly seen between lovemaking sessions and closed the door behind her. The decor was in keeping with the island feel, but it was well-appointed, just like his bedroom. And the curved faucets were pricey.

  She frowned. Why does it matter, Sasha?

  Nate wasn’t pretentious. At all. In fact, the fancy decor seemed a little out of character with the Nate she’d grown accustomed to. Maybe these apartments also served to house families of patients in case the hotel filled up, like he said happened during the gala.

  That made sense. She relaxed and turned on the shower, allowing the warm water to flow over her body and soothe the slight aches of muscles that she hadn’t noticed last night. Nate was certainly...active...in his lovemaking. But, oh it had been wonderful and almost overwhelming.

  She soaped her hair and then let the water sluice over it, rinsing the suds. She smiled. She was going to smell like him.

  No, not like him. Because there was no scent known to man that could smell as good as he did. Her hands trailed down her stomach, shivering as she remembered his touch. His body covering hers.

  Oh, she was getting worked up all over again. She needed to get out of here and get home. Where she could unpack everything that had happened last night.

  Finishing up, she turned the taps off and stepped out of the shower onto the thick mat. After toweling herself dry, she wrapped the towel around her hair, while she got dressed. Glancing at the bathroom vanity, she frowned again when she spied a new toothbrush wrapped in cellophane and a tiny tube of toothpaste next to it. Also new and unused.

  The thoughts of him bringing other women here slithered back into her head. For once, she wished she carried a toothbrush in her purse so she could leave those on the counter untouched. But she didn’t, so she ripped open the package and brushed her teeth as quickly as she could, rinsed her mouth. She held the toothbrush there for a minute and looked at the holder where he kept his.

  No way.

  She went over to the small stainless-steel trash can and stepped on the lever to open it. Then she tossed the brush and toothpaste into it.

  She wasn’t sure what she was getting so uneasy about. It was a nice gesture. Just like washing her clothes.

  But then she thought she’d known Austin too. Except he’d never showered her with these little touches either. She unwrapped her hair and dragged her fingers through it, arranging the curls the best she could. Thank heavens he hadn’t set out a new hairbrush, as well.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked wide-eyed and unsure of herself. She recognized that person from another time in her life and quickly turned her back on her.

  Gathering her composure, she counted to ten before opening the bathroom door and reentering the bedroom. Nate was nowhere to be seen now. Thank goodness. But she was going to have to face him sometime.

  The smell of bacon and eggs reached her nose and her stomach took a swan dive. She had no idea what was wrong with her. She had not felt like this the first time they made love. But they hadn’t been in his house, where the
trappings of luxury surrounded her. It had just been her and Nate and the ocean. And she’d felt on equal footing with him.

  She didn’t want to sit at a table with china plates and try to think of what she could say to him. But if he’d made her breakfast, she didn’t very well see how she could refuse without hurting his feelings. And really, he’d done nothing wrong. He was still the same person he’d been when he’d first come to Saint Victoria Hospital that day.

  So she moved into the living area and forced a cheerful smile on her face. “Good morning.”

  He came around from the kitchen, his feet bare, wearing dark jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. The dusting of hair on his chest narrowed and slid in a smooth trail past his waistband.

  . This man was any girl’s fantasy. And maybe he was.

  “Safe to kiss now?”

  What could she say? No? She held her face up and his lips brushed across hers, familiar and warm. Her uneasiness subsided a bit.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Fine. It’s a little later than I expected.”

  He glanced back at the stainless-steel clock over his sink. It matched the rest of the appliances. “It’s barely six.”

  “I know, but I kind of want to head home before a lot of other people are up.”

  A frown puckered his brow, but he nodded. “Of course.”

  “Oh, you wanted to ask me something about the gala. Is it about my mom? As far as I know she has everything under control. I’ll be there helping her serve, of course, along with a whole slew of other people.”

  “You’re planning on serving?”

  “Yes, why?”

  He paused as if trying to figure out a way to say something. “Does she not have enough help?”

  “I’m sure she does, but she’s my mom, and I want to pitch in.”

  The slithering thoughts about him being here with other women morphed and changed into something else. “Is there a problem with that?”

  “No. I just thought it might be nice if a member of each of our hospitals greeted the guests. I was going to ask you if you would be Saint Victoria Hospital’s representative.”

  “And who would be the clinic’s representative?”

  “I would be.”

  Memories of her time with Austin resurfaced, ugly and eerily similar. He had cared about where they went for dinner, what she wore, one time even buying her a dress to wear to an opera he wanted to go to.

  So Nate didn’t want her serving food to his rich guests? The nausea that had disappeared with his kiss resurfaced. Would the Nate wearing a tuxedo at his gala be a total stranger to her? Would he wander regally from group to group asking if they had everything they needed while her mom and the rest of her crew waited hand and foot on them?

  Suddenly she didn’t want to find out. Knew now why she’d avoided going to the gala in the past. She’d already visited in the circles of the very wealthy during her time with Austin, and in the end found out that it was nothing like its glitzy facade. What she’d seen of Austin’s world was shallow and entitled, and the people were used to having things handed to them.

  Sasha was used to working her ass off for everything she’d accomplished. Did she regret her time at Harvard? No. The school had been wonderful, and she was truly grateful for being gifted with that education. It had allowed her to do what she loved most in this world. But she couldn’t bear it if Nate turned out to be exactly like the man she’d once imagined him to be, the man she’d been avoiding for the last three years.

  “Nate, I can’t. I’m sorry. I told my mother I was going to help her, and that’s where I need to be. I’m sure the hospital administrator over at Saint Victoria Hospital, or any number of people would be happy to help you greet your guests.”

  His frown deepened. “I understand.”

  But he didn’t. She could see it in his face. Sense it in the stiff formal posture he’d settled into. This was wrong. She never should have come here. Should have left things as they were with the rosy image of what they’d had that day on the beach.

  She found her sandals in the entryway and somehow managed to stuff her feet into them, even though her eyes were gritty and difficult to see through. “I really do need to get home, Nate—I’m sorry I can’t stay for breakfast.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No!” If she had to travel down that sandy path with him, she wasn’t going to make it without bursting into tears. History really did repeat itself, and Sasha was finding out just how stupid she was for believing the distance between them could be spanned. It couldn’t. Her heart was sitting there telling her it was possible, but her mind... Her mind was telling her what she’d known all along. She and Nate were on different courses. A geometry term popped into her mind and she grabbed at it.

  Asymptotes.

  They were asymptotes. He was a line and she was a curve that got closer and closer to him, but never quite reached where he was. She would never be a part of that world. Didn’t even want to.

  It was better that she found out now than later, when her emotions had become too tangled up in him.

  Weren’t they already?

  Oh, she hoped not. Couldn’t bear it if she actually fell for him.

  A whispering in her mind circled around, but she chased it away, horrified when she realized her hands had actually gone up and followed the thought.

  “Sasha, what is it?”

  His voice came through a fog, but she was shaking her head telling him she was fine, she just had some things she needed to do. Without waiting for him to say anything else, she fled out his door, hurried down the sandy path and somehow made it to her car.

  Once there, she buried her head in her arms against the steering wheel and cried until there were no more tears. Thank the Lord he hadn’t followed her. And since it was still really early, there was no one around to see her start her car, back out of the parking spot and head down the road. Away from The Island Clinic. Away from Nate.

  In her rearview mirror, the bronze likeness of Marie stared mournfully after her, arms outstretched as if pleading with her not to go. But she had to. For her own self-preservation. And to hold on to what good memories she still had of her and Nate’s time together. Because she knew deep down, there was no chance of it ever happening again. She would make sure of it.

  * * *

  Nate sat at his desk, toying with his cell phone, before finally tossing the thing into a drawer. He hadn’t seen Sasha in a week. He’d tried calling her, but he was always sent straight to voice mail. And the two times he’d driven over to Saint Victoria Hospital, he’d been told by Patty, a friend of hers, that she was in surgery and she had no idea when she would be out.

  He finally got the message. She was avoiding him. He wasn’t sure why. Unless she’d sensed that he cared for her, and she didn’t return his feelings. The look on her face when he’d asked her to stand with him to greet guests had sent a chill over him. She’d looked...stricken. That was the only word he could come up with to describe it. Was it that repugnant to her to actually be seen with him in public?

  He swallowed. Why not? His parents had pretty much avoided being seen with him once he told them he wasn’t interested in joining their practice.

  Well, damn.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been through this before. He should be well used to it by now. But Sasha had seemed so caring and understanding when he’d talked about his devastation over losing Marie, and when he’d shared from his heart about his parents and how hurt he’d been by their behavior.

  Had it all been an act?

  Again. Why not?

  She’d been quick to offer her mom’s services when she’d come to that meeting about the gala. She’d been there what, ten minutes, and then her hand went up and she asked why they didn’t use local businesses.

  But she’d slept
with him after he offered the catering to her mom. There was no way those two things could be connected. Could they?

  He didn’t think so, but his mind was so screwed up right now that he was no longer sure of anything.

  Dammit all. This was why he didn’t do relationships anymore. He had no idea what was what...what was true and what wasn’t, when it came to other people’s emotions. Or his own.

  Well, he wasn’t going to call her again. If she didn’t want to talk to him, then so be it. If she didn’t want to stand beside him, that was all well and good. To prove that point, he called Saint Victoria Hospital and got hold of Maurice, the hospital administrator—he refused to believe it was because that was who Sasha had suggested—and found the man was more than willing to help him in that endeavor. So even if she came back and offered, he’d tell her he already had it covered.

  She wouldn’t though. He knew it in his soul. When she’d walked out of his apartment, she’d done so with the intention of never coming back. And he had no idea why.

  But he hadn’t begged his parents not to turn their backs on him all those years ago, and he wasn’t going to beg Sasha not to do so now. He just didn’t have it in him. Not today. And probably not tomorrow, either.

  When he saw her at the gala tomorrow night, maybe he’d get a better sense of what was going on with her. He’d just wait and see if her attitude changed. Maybe she just needed time to process what had happened at his place.

  But something told him otherwise.

  Well, hell, he didn’t have time to worry about this. Not with the fund-raiser already on his doorstep. He took Marie’s doll down from the shelf and set her on his desk. This was what he needed to keep in front of him. This was his entire reason for coming to Saint Victoria. It hadn’t been for Sasha or his parents or anyone else. It had been because of the way a young child had touched his heart and challenged him to make a difference.

  That motivation had been enough years ago.

  And it would be enough to get him through the next day or week or year.

 

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