Conor hated leaving her. Covered only with the towel around his waist, he hurried downstairs, locking up his car and the house before going to the kitchen. The kittens were fine, stirring while he made the hot chocolate then settling back in their beds. He laced her drink with a splash of brandy before carrying the mug upstairs and setting it on the side cabinet. Kate hadn’t moved but she seemed less rigid and un-focused. Taking a chance, he slid into bed beside her, helping her sit up before handing her the mug. As she cradled it in trembling hands, he drew her into his arms, holding her as she slowly sipped her drink, the aroma of the chocolate mingling with the citrusy fragrance of her hair and skin.
When she had finished, he took the empty mug from her and set it aside, surprised but delighted when she snuggled closer rather than pulling away, as he had feared she would. There were so many things he needed to know but he held his tongue, rocking her gently, one hand stroking her hair as she relaxed more against him. He closed his eyes, only to open them again as all he could see in his mind was Kate—not just her beauty and how she had looked and felt, but he would never forget the terrible pain and stark trauma in her eyes back at the accident site.
Kate allowed herself to rest in the comforting circle of Conor’s arms, reality and memory returning, having shut down after the horror had become too much to bear. She had done what had needed to be done but it had taken everything out of her, brought back all her nightmares, and she could never have moved, never have functioned if Conor hadn’t taken over.
Embarrassment churned inside her at how helpless she had been, how many liberties she had granted him. And now she was in his bed, wearing nothing but a T-shirt that carried the lingering earthy scent of him. She couldn’t believe she had allowed him to undress her, wash her, care for her. He’d been amazing, though, not pressing her for answers to the questions he must have, caring for her with a gentle kindness and compassion that made her want to weep. But she couldn’t cry. Even now. If she did, she would never stop.
As her senses reawakened, she became more aware of Conor’s presence, the safety she felt in his arms, the warmth and scent of his body, the feel of his bare chest beneath her cheek—warm skin, rippling muscle, the dusting of hair. The temptation to turn her head and press her mouth to his flesh was overpowering. Despite her efforts to keep him at a distance, her body gravitated to his and she curled into him, seeking comfort, lulled and aroused at the same time. As she fought to keep the memories at bay, she knew she would have to leave Glentown, that her haven of calm was over. There would be questions, interest, intrusions she couldn’t cope with. The thought of leaving this place and these people, especially Conor, was painful, but her nightmares were worse, driving her on, keeping her moving because she wasn’t strong enough to confront them.
She snuggled closer. For tonight she could banish everything from her mind. It was wrong but for these few hours she could take what Conor offered, what she needed so badly. Just one night. Then she would have to go—to find somewhere else where she could start over, make fresh decisions about what she was going to do with her life, whether she could even carry on being a doctor if she was going to go to pieces every time something like this happened.
‘Do you want to talk?’
Conor’s words, husky and soft, drew her from her thoughts and she shook her head. ‘No,’ she murmured, feeling the thud of his heart, knowing her own pulse was speeding up at what she was thinking and doing, her breath catching in her chest.
‘Maybe you should sleep now,’ he suggested, his voice unsteady.
‘No.’ She turned into him, looking into his darkening green eyes. ‘Stay with me.’
She felt him tense, heard the longing underlying his words. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’
‘I do.’ Her hand moved, her fingertips exploring his chest.
‘Not now,’ he said, catching her hand in his. ‘I don’t want to take advantage of this.’
Ignoring his protest, she wriggled closer, pressing her mouth to the strong column of his throat, loving his taste. ‘Please, Conor, make me forget.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Everything.’ She leaned in, nibbling along his bottom lip, hearing his breath catch. ‘Just for a while, make it all go away.’
‘Kate, don’t,’ he groaned.
‘I need this…need you.’
‘Kate…’
Conor struggled to maintain his willpower. It was torture to hold back but he didn’t want to abuse her trust. She’d been distressed, she was…Dear heaven! Kate’s tongue teased the outline of his mouth. His hands moved to her sides to keep some distance between them but they tightened as her fingers returned to their exploration of his chest, his heart pounding as they brushed around and across a sensitive nipple. She smiled against his mouth at his involuntary response.
‘Please, Conor.’
As if he could deny her anything. As if he didn’t want her like a crazy person. Any chance he had of being honourable evaporated as she kissed him, teasing forgotten, and his mouth opened hotly under hers, swallowing her whimpers of encouragement. She wriggled on top of him, pressing her body against his, setting him on fire. Her T-shirt rode up so he felt peachy-soft skin under his hands. He was a flesh-and-blood man, not a bloody saint. A man pushed beyond the limit of his endurance. Wresting control from her, he rolled them over until she was beneath him, welcoming the feel of her hands on his skin. Passion flared in an instant. The kiss deepened, hot and demanding, her tongue twining with his, her fingers urgent as they roamed his body. He shuddered as she dragged her nails down his spine. Her touch, her taste, her fragrance drove him insane but he wanted more. Much more. Wrenching his mouth free, he looked into sensual brown eyes, hands unsteady as he drew off the T-shirt, tossing it aside.
‘Katy,’ he whispered. ‘You’re so beautiful.’
She gasped, her body arching to him as his fingers traced the outline of her breasts, seeing the flush of arousal on her skin, dusky-rose nipples peaking in anticipation of his touch. Her hands pulled at him but he took his time, savouring her as he had longed to do, smiling at her impatience as his fingertips spiralled slowly inwards to where she most craved them. She cried out when he reached his goal, so responsive to him. One hand sank into his hair, urging his mouth down, and he gave her what she needed, what they both needed, circling her areola with his tongue tip before opening his mouth on her flesh and hungrily drawing the swollen nipple deep inside, drunk on the taste of her, the feel of her.
‘Conor!’
‘Is that good?’ he mouthed against her skin.
She writhed beneath him, struggling to get closer. ‘Yes! More…please,’ she whimpered.
He could do this for hours; would never get enough of her. He turned his attention to her other breast as her hands grazed urgently down his back and struggled to free the towel. Moving to help her, he groaned as she pulled it free and there was nothing more between them, feeling her heat as she shifted to bring them intimately into contact. If he wasn’t careful this was going to be over in five minutes and he didn’t want that. He slid lower, taking his time kissing and caressing his way down to her navel, finding her just as sensitive and responsive there, her body squirming to his as he licked, nibbled and sucked on her skin.
Kate whimpered as his fingers found the scar on her side, her body tensing as his lips whispered across the wound. Her hands fisted in his hair and he looked up, seeing the denial in her eyes.
‘Don’t.’
‘What happened?’
She shook her head and he allowed her to distract him. Deliciously. ‘No more waiting,’ she urged, her hands gliding down, driving him to the edge of reason.
Aroused beyond bearing, he gave in. Later, he promised himself. Later there would be time to love her for hours as he yearned to, to ask all his questions. Reaching out, he dragged open the bedside drawer, scrabbling inside.
‘Pray there are some condoms in here,’ he told her hoarsely, unable to remember how l
ong ago it had been since he’d needed them. ‘And that they’re not past their use-by date.’
Impatient, wanting Conor with a desperation she had never experienced before, Kate moaned with frustration. ‘Hurry,’ she begged, unable to hold on much longer.
Relieved when he found what he was looking for, she took it from him, looking into his eyes as she rolled it on, fingers lingering, feeling his response, welcoming his weight as she drew him down, mouths meeting hotly. She wanted this, needed it. Her body had known from the first; for tonight her head ceased arguing and putting obstacles in the way.
‘You’re sure?’ Conor’s voice was rough with tension, green eyes dark with passion.
‘Yes.’ Her hands moved down to encourage him, gasping as he moved into her and smoothly united them. ‘Yes!’
‘Katy,’ he groaned, one arm sliding under her hips, his free hand sinking in her hair.
She wrapped her legs around him, demanding everything, giving everything. Nothing had ever been like this. The terrible burning inside her threatened to consume her and only Conor could ease the ache, extinguish the fire. She couldn’t stand it. Moving with him, desperate for release, she clung on to him, burying her face in his shoulder, sobbing as he took her higher and higher. For what felt like an eternity she teetered on the precipice, balancing on the edge of an unimaginable abyss, until Conor, at last, allowed her to plummet over the edge, his hold tightening, keeping her safe, as they fell together into the most intense, impossible explosion of pleasure, beyond anything she had ever imagined. Incredible. Frightening. Wonderful. They collapsed together, hearts pounding, breathing laboured, bodies entwined. Kate closed her eyes, surrendering to the magic of this night with Conor, knowing she could never repeat it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CONOR struggled awake, bitter disappointment surging through him when he discovered he was alone. Frowning, concerned for Kate and worried about the future, he hugged her pillow, drawing in her lingering scent, an ache of longing leaving a hollow loss inside him. Closing his eyes, he relived the most amazing night of his life. Kate was incredible; un-inhibited, intensely sensual. Their passion had been hot and insatiable. After the first urgent coming together, they had spent hours learning each other; he had loved every inch of her, while her hands and her mouth had brought him to the edge time and again. Rather than feeling sated, he yearned for more. More of Kate. For ever wouldn’t be long enough. But she had gone.
His mobile phone beeped with an incoming text and he was both relieved and annoyed to discover it was from Kate.
I’m at the flat. I’m fine. I need time alone. Please. K.
Shit!
Conor didn’t believe for one second she was fine. Cursing, he slid from the bed, anxious about her emotional and physical state. Scared that she was backing off again, he went to shower, his heart clenching as he found her ruined outfit on the floor. The last thing Kate needed to be was on her own. He tipped his face to the water, angry with himself for giving in to temptation last night. Yes, he’d wanted her, but he had known there were unresolved issues and he had been frightened she had been reacting to circumstances and would regret it. Too late he knew he had been right. He had to be with her, knew his own feelings, but Kate kept pushing him away and he was scared he was being a fool, that he was opening himself up to heartbreak.
Back in the bedroom he sat on the bed, frowning over what to do. He wanted to go round there straight away but was worried he would make things worse if he pushed her. Whatever had affected her so deeply at the accident site—and the times she had blanked out before—was important and bad and buried inside her. Hiding her surgical skills lay at the root of her inner torment. Had some procedure gone wrong? Did she blame herself? There was so much he needed to know, but reacting the wrong way now could ruin everything. But he couldn’t do nothing. Full of uncertainty, he reached for his mobile and composed a text of his own.
Kate, I’m worried about you. I’ll give you space today if that’s what you want but I’m always here for you if you need anything at all. Please call me. Any time. Love, Cx.
They needed to talk. Most of all Kate needed to release whatever was causing her so much pain. How much did Fred know? Anxious not to leave the house in case Kate returned or called him, he paced away the day, worrying and thinking, even the antics and company of Smoky and Willow failing to cheer him. He spoke briefly to Kyle and to Nic about what had happened, his anxieties over Kate and his feelings, then phoned Fred to give him basic details of the accident the previous evening, hearing his partner’s genuine distress.
‘Did you know Kate has surgical skills?’ he asked, trying to keep any accusation and resentment from his tone.
‘I knew she had done some training on James’s team; he said she could have been a good surgeon but her heart was in general practice. She had some crisis of confidence, through no fault of her own, but I don’t know more than that, Conor. Truly. How is she?’ the older man added after a short pause, concern in his voice.
‘Not good.’
‘You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?’
Conor closed his eyes, feeling as if his heart was cracking. ‘Yes, Fred, I have. And I’m going to do everything I can to help her. Can we shelter her from this at the surgery?’
‘Of course. There’s bound to be interest—what Kate did was amazing, especially as everyone believes she is just a normal GP—but I’ll speak to all the staff today and make sure no one questions her,’ he promised.
‘Thanks.’
‘What are you going to do?’
He ran a hand through his hair, an idea forming in his mind. ‘I’ll see how Kate is tomorrow, but I might need a day or two off.’
‘No problem, Conor. Whatever you have to do for Kate. Any news of the boy?’
‘I rang the hospital. He’s come through the operation and is stable but critical in Intensive Care,’ Conor replied, knowing Russ only had this chance thanks to Kate’s actions.
After a sleepless night Conor arrived at the surgery on Monday morning to find a worried Aileen waiting for him.
‘Fred told me yesterday. You look terrible,’ she fretted, her grey eyes anxious.
Conor manufactured a wry smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘We’ll look after Kate, pet, don’t worry,’ Aileen reassured him.
‘I’m fielding all calls. We’ve had a couple of press queries.’
‘I was afraid of that. Let’s keep Kate out of it if we can. Put anything through to me…or Fred if I’m not here.’ His gaze strayed down the corridor. ‘Is Kate in yet?’
‘She is.’
Nervous tension made him feel sick. ‘I need a few minutes to talk to her.’
‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,’ the perceptive woman offered, her smile understanding.
‘There is one thing…’
After outlining his plan and gaining Aileen’s enthusiastic support, Conor went to Kate’s consulting room, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. He stepped inside, his throat closing as he saw her pallor, the dark circles under her eyes. Her gaze slid from his as she clasped tremulous hands together on her desk. Uncertain, he sat down, wondering how to get through to her.
‘No one is going to be bothering you about Saturday,’ he began, wishing she would look at him. ‘Aileen is monitoring the calls and if there are any questions, Fred or I will deal with them.’
‘Thanks.’ The word whispered out, husky and raw.
‘There are bound to be questions, but we’ll do all we can to field them…if that’s what you want.’
‘Yes.’
‘Kate, we need to talk.’
She shook her head, her hair falling to shield her face. ‘There’s nothing to say.’
‘Please, don’t do this,’ he begged, fear making him edgy.
‘It was just a night, Conor,’ she insisted, voice shaky. ‘I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. It didn’t mean anything.’
Conor stared in disb
elief. This was worse than he’d expected. ‘I don’t believe that and I don’t think you do either. What we have is special, Kate.’
‘It can’t be.’
The panic in her voice tore at his heart and he rose to his feet, rounding the desk to crouch beside her, taking one cool, trembling hand in his. ‘I know you’re scared about something. Hurting. Let me help you. Please.’
‘You can’t,’ she insisted, withdrawing her hand from his.
Frustrated, concerned, confused, he wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her, shake her, demand answers, anything to break through her emotional barriers, but he returned to his chair to stop himself doing something dumb. It was time to change tactics and put his plan into action. No matter how Kate tried to deny it, he knew what they had was amazing and he wasn’t going to give up until she faced whatever inner torment was keeping them apart. It hurt that she couldn’t trust him and he was scared she was going to run, so he had to act now if he hoped to help her and give them any chance for a future together.
‘I know this isn’t the best time, Kate, but would you do me a favour?’
She glanced at him for the first time, wariness in her eyes. ‘What kind of favour?’
‘I have to go away for a few days and—’
‘You’re going away?’ she interrupted, with a mix of shock, relief and alarm.
‘Not for long.’ He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, even for a short time, but it was essential. ‘Would you look after Willow and Smoky for me?’
‘Of course.’ She frowned, wrong-footed by his request. ‘When?’
Conor hid his relief, hoping the kittens would be his insurance policy and that she cared too much to abandon them and run while he was gone. ‘I’ll bring them and their things over at lunchtime.’
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