by Lori Foster
She rolled to her side and groaned. “I know. I feel like crap.” She held out a hand. “Could you give me my phone?”
He didn’t want to. The urge to protect her was almost worse than the urge to hold her. And the urge to make love to her. “All right.” He held it out of her reach. “But don’t grovel. Don’t apologize. Give him the facts and let him deal with them any way he wants.”
She snatched the phone away from him and made the call. Axel kept close, deliberately listening in, frowning when she repeated, for the third time, that she was just plain too sick to work.
When she finally hung up, he said, “I take it he wasn’t pleased?”
“He threatened to drop in on me, to make sure I’m okay.” That made her shudder. “A first for Uncle Elwood. Then again, I’ve never called in sick before.” With a long sigh, she sank into her pillow. “Now go home so I can sleep.”
Axel had no intention of leaving just yet. He took her dirty dishes to the kitchen, refilled the humidifier, checked in with his answering service, and then made a few necessary calls. Basically, he bided his time till she woke again. Then he helped her bathe—a distinct pleasure—made her eat again, and even napped with her.
Given his history and usual preferences, it made no sense how even the mundane with her seemed special. Napping? He snorted to himself. If anyone found out, he’d never live it down. But being beside her, feeling her body snuggled in with his, filled him with contentment.
By the following day, thanks to the antibiotics and his excellent care, she felt much more human. He helped her do some studying, then rented several movies and sat with her in the bed, sharing meals, laughing a little, and just plain enjoying a woman’s company.
It was weird. It was relaxing. Axel thought it might not bode well for his bachelor status. But finally, by Sunday, he’d accepted the inevitable.
He knew he’d been caught—hook, line, and sinker. Only problem was, did she feel the same?
Chapter Seven
After the strangest weekend of her life, Monday should have been comforting, a return to the familiar. Once again Libby had her space to herself. There was no naked man to bump into, no one hovering over her or monitoring her every move. No one fretting, no one holding her, kissing her nose and forehead and ear. No one making her wish she was well so she could take advantage of the proximity of that hulking, muscular, totally male bod.
But instead, it felt odd to have the place to herself, and worse than that, she felt … empty. How had she gotten used to him so quickly?
And how would she handle it if she never got to see him again?
Pining over her circumstances was just plain dumb. Axel was still a doctor, which meant he had patients to see, women who depended on him for a lot more than she did.
And against his wishes, she had classes she couldn’t miss. Graduation was just around the bend, with plenty of exams to take between now and then.
She told herself it’d be wise to relegate the weekend as an aberration, an event never to occur again. If Axel called, and that was doubtful given what a pill she’d been, she’d be blasé about it. She’d resort to their original agreement of a fling. And flings did not include exclusivity or duty calls.
By the time she got home from school, she was again as limp as a used dishcloth, ready to nap, and determined on her course.
She checked the answering machine first thing. No messages. So … he hadn’t called.
Deflated, despite the lecture she’d given herself again and again throughout the long day, Libby pulled off her jacket, kicked off her shoes, and flopped down on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. She should eat something. Take her medicine. Maybe do some studying.
But she was still there, half asleep and in the same position where she’d landed, when a knock sounded on her door.
Startled, she sat up, and ridiculous girlish hope swelled her heart. Before she could leave the bed, a key scraped in the lock and Axel pushed the door open. Libby blinked at him in mute surprise.
“Hey.” He smiled at her, shut the door. “How do you feel?”
“Uh …”
He approached her with wary indifference, tossed a suit coat onto the back of the loveseat, and loosened his tie. “Have you eaten?”
Even for Axel, keeping her key to come and go as he pleased was outrageous. She tried to think of some way to berate him, but he looked really, really good in a tie and five o’clock shadow, and that distracted her. “No.”
“Got plans for the evening?”
She shook her head, unsure of his intent, still ripe with hopefulness. “Studying to do. That’s all.” She noticed that he dropped the key back into his pants pocket. “You planning to keep that?”
He met her gaze with a searing challenge. “Did you want it back?”
She tried to answer, but she couldn’t come up with anything intelligent. She should say yes, but her heart said, Keep it, visit whenever you want, stay a while.
Deciding to get things out in the open, Libby sighed. “I just … I don’t know what we’re doing here.”
Another smile, this one full of sensual promise, gave her half an answer. “You agreed to a torrid sex affair, remember?”
She remembered. “What does that have to do with my key?”
“You don’t want anyone to know we’re seeing each other, so coming here is safer than using my place.” He cocked a brow. “I figure sooner or later you’ll be recovered enough to appease my lust—”
She opened her mouth to agree, and he said, “But not today.” He gave her a quick once-over, then tsked. “You look wiped out.”
With him opening the top button on his dress shirt and rolling up his sleeves, her recovery seemed to be happening at an alarming rate. “It was a long day.”
“You should still be in bed.” As if by rote, he went to her kitchen and got her a tall glass of iced tea and her medicine. He carried it to her. “How about we shower, order a pizza, and then just relax?”
Shower with Axel? Now that had promise.
“You don’t have anything more important to do?”
Her question made him defensive. “I can be as lazy and self-indulgent here with you as I can at my own place.”
“You aren’t … seeing anyone else who would be more fun?”
A new seriousness entered his gaze. “One woman at a time, Libby. And right now, I’m anticipating what we’ll do once you’ve recouped.”
Wow, he made that sound so promising. “Being sick sucks.” She washed down her antibiotic and two aspirin with one long gulp.
“I can make you feel better.”
He was such a temptation, and she hated disappointing him. “Sorry, Axel. The soul is willing, anxious even, but the energy level is just kaput.”
Axel caught both her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. You’ll be more comfortable after a shower.”
She groaned.
“I’ll do all the work.” He began backing toward her bathroom, tugging her along. “You can just stand under the spray and let me soap you.” His voice dropped. “And rinse you.”
Libby felt a wave of heat that had nothing to do with illness and everything to do with Dr. Axel Dean. “This is so unfair.”
Smiling at her flushed cheeks, he whispered, “And dry you.”
Disgruntled, she stood docile while he undressed her. “I was supposed to get a turn touching you.”
His fingers froze on the snap to her slacks. “Yeah, well, we’ll save that for when you’re 100 percent again. Today is just my time to play.”
Going to one knee, he pulled down her pants and kissed her belly. “You’ll enjoy yourself, I promise. And then you can nap while I get food together.”
Libby stroked her fingers through his dark hair. “For a selfish bastard, you’re pretty good at giving.”
Putting both hands into the back of her panties and sliding them down, he said, “In this instance, giving is also taking. Now hush.”
After he had her
naked, he stepped back and eyed her from head to toe. With one trembling hand, he cupped her right breast. “The things you do to me, woman.” He shook his head, then turned to start the shower. Libby leaned against the wall, eyes closed, legs weak.
When Axel slipped his arm around her waist, she opened her eyes again to be greeted with his now familiar nudity. “You realize this is the equivalent of tormenting a diabetic with a basketful of sweet treats?”
His smile quirked. “I’m salty, not sweet.” He pressed a warm, gentle kiss to her mouth and lifted her into the shower with him. “Now just relax.”
“I already know this is going to be torture.”
“For me, sweetheart. Never for you.”
Libby didn’t understand what he meant by that, and a few minutes later, after Axel’s slick, soapy hands had been all over her body, she no longer cared.
“Axel?” she moaned, leaning into him while his fingers slipped over and around her nipples, teasing, driving her crazy.
“Let me rinse you,” he whispered, and he turned her to face the spray, bracing her with his body at her back. The warm water washed over her, and still his hands were on her, over her breasts, her belly, and down between her legs.
“No,” she whimpered, so weak she wasn’t sure she could stay on her feet. “No more.”
“Shhh. Trust me.” He held her upright with one arm around her rib cage, just beneath her breasts. With the other, he parted her sex, stroking, delving.
Libby pressed her head back against his shoulder. Her breath stuttered, her muscles tightened.
Two thick fingers pressed into her, making her cry out with the wonderful sensation.
“You see?” he murmured in satisfaction, and then his thumb was on her clitoris, moving back and forth while his fingers pressed, retreated, pressed again. His open mouth moved along her throat and shoulder, the water cascaded over her breasts, and she felt the orgasm building, stronger and stronger.
She cried out again, her fingers clamping down on his hard thighs, her legs stiffening.
He supported her, held her, pushed her completely over the edge, and when she went limp, he eased his fingers out of her and turned her into his body. “Damn, you are so beautiful.”
Libby felt herself fading away. She’d been mush before the orgasm, but now her legs actually felt numb and staying awake seemed more trouble than it was worth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, letting the fatigue take her.
“Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”
He turned the water off and Libby was only vaguely aware of being wrapped in a towel and carried to the bed.
Over an hour later, she awoke to find Axel sitting in a chair near the bed, fully dressed, eating pizza and watching her. Her hair was still damp, spread out around her, and she sluggishly pushed up to one elbow.
As if he hadn’t been sitting there staring at her, watching her sleep, he got up and fetched a slice of pizza and a cola. He handed them to her. “Hungry?”
“Humiliated,” she replied, moving to sit up so she could eat. “I keep passing out on you.”
With an odd sort of affection that had nothing to do with sex, he ruffled her hair. “You need your rest.”
After a big bite of cold pizza, Libby eyed him. She didn’t understand him and the things he did. “And what do you need?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” He winked and picked up his suit coat. “I have rounds at the hospital early tomorrow, so I’m going to head out and get some sleep. When you finish eating, take your meds again, okay?”
“And here you told me that you didn’t see me as a patient.”
“I don’t.” He bent, stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, and kissed her. “I see you as a woman I want, and I can’t have you till you’re well. So help me out here and do what you can to recover good health, okay?”
Put that way … “I promise to follow doctor’s orders to the letter.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She caught his hand before he could leave her. “Axel?”
He raised a brow.
“You do realize that you’re ruining your reputation as a bad boy bent on his own pleasure, right?”
He cupped her face and kissed her again. “Maybe it’s time I got a new reputation.”
He left before Libby could question him on that.
Axel thought he’d figured out a very nice plan of attack. For the fourth day in a row, he’d taken care of her, tending her health, her body, and her sexual needs.
He’d confused her, no doubt about that. But his goal was to get her addicted to him, so slowly that she might not even notice.
He’d enjoyed himself, but he didn’t think he could take too much more. She was so cute when she felt helpless, so surly in her struggle for complete independence—and so sensually honest in her physical satisfaction.
He liked everything about her, even her purple toenails and her tendency to insult him. He especially liked the way she came, how she made those sexy, carnal sounds deep in her throat and how she clutched at him—as if she never wanted to let him go.
The weekend was fast approaching again and he wanted to spend it in bed, making love to Libby. She no longer had any fever, and other than the dragging fatigue typical of pneumonia, she seemed her old self again.
Not that he really knew her old self since each and every day he learned something new about her. Eventually, he wanted to know all her secrets.
“Daydreaming again?” Cary asked.
Axel looked up from his desk. He’d finished his paperwork an hour ago. “You here for Nora?”
“Actually, Nora left a while ago. She’s going shopping with Frances.”
Frances was his sister-in-law, the woman who’d made his brother Booker a very happy man. “I didn’t hear her leave.”
“I know. Like I said, you were daydreaming.” Cary folded his arms and leaned in the doorway. Since his office was in the same building complex as Axel’s, they often met up after work. “Want to have a drink or something?”
Axel glanced at his watch and pushed back his chair. “If we make it quick. Libby should be getting home in about an hour.”
“Home?”
“Her place.” Axel removed his white coat and hung it on the peg behind him. “Can’t take her to my place because she still doesn’t want anyone to know she’s seeing me.”
They walked out together, pausing for Axel to lock up.
“Now there’s a twist,” Cary remarked. “Usually you’re the one dodging things, trying to make certain it doesn’t get too serious.”
“She’s not dodging.” God, he hoped she wasn’t. Axel hated to think he’d be falling for a woman who didn’t want him. “It’s her uncle. He gives her a hard time over everything.”
“So you’re … what? Just keeping it quiet until it—whatever it is—runs its course?”
“No.” Axel frowned. “I’m … I don’t know yet. Things got out of whack with her being sick and everything. I’m sort of feeling my way right now.”
“But it will run its course, right?”
Axel snorted. “What’s with the it talk?”
“Okay.” Cary stopped as they reached their cars. “You name it.”
Axel stared at him, blank-brained. “Why does it need a name, damn it? We’re involved. End of story.”
“Secretly involved.”
“So?”
Cary held up both hands. “So nothing. It’s just unusual for you to get involved, secretly or otherwise.”
Axel had the awful suspicion that it was more unusual for Libby. “She’s different.”
“I know. Everything you claimed not to want.”
Was Cary deliberately baiting him? Axel slanted him an evil look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Young?” Cary held up one finger after another. “Sweet. Serious. Not really all that … stacked.”
“Get your hand out of my face.” Axel unlocked his BMW and opened the door. Behind him, he could practically feel
Cary snickering. “She’s young, no denying that. But she’s also mature. And if you think she’s sweet, then you haven’t heard her insulting me with inexhaustible energy.”
“She insults you, huh? Well then, that’s another for the list.”
“And yeah,” Axel said, taking an aggressive stance. “She’s serious, but she’s also damn funny. And just because she’s not top heavy doesn’t mean I can’t be attracted to her.”
Again, Cary held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Hey, I think she’s really cute. And she has great legs.”
Axel’s hair damn near stood on end with that jibe. “Just when in the hell were you looking at her legs?”
This time, Cary laughed outright. He took in Axel’s deadly frown and laughed some more. Slapping him on the back, he said, “Damn Axel, you’ve got it bad. I remember a time—not that long ago, mind you—when you’d have been listing the attributes of any conquest. But this time, I’m not supposed to notice that the girl has legs? Whipped. That’s what you are. Totally whipped.”
Axel took a mean step toward him, but Cary defused his temper with a smile. “Go home to the girl. Profess undying love. But do me a favor, okay? Try not to hurt her. Whether she insults you or not, she’s still sweet and I’d hate to think of her ever crying over you.”
Feeling lost at sea, Axel watched as his best friend strode away whistling, a married man without a care. Maybe marriage did that for you, put everything in perspective because, really, if you had the right woman waiting for you, what else mattered?
It was a question Axel had asked himself a few times since his brother and his best friend had both hitched up. But never before had he wondered in such a personal way, as if his own happiness hinged on the answer.
No, he would never make Libby cry, and he’d punch out any guy who did, maybe even including her uncle. He was jealous. And possessive. And making love to her was the most exciting thing he’d ever experienced, but he also enjoyed just plain being with her.
He considered the ramifications of his situation all the way to her apartment. Unfortunately for her, he’d worked himself into quite a state by the time he arrived, and she was there in the kitchen making dinner.