‘I’m not busy,’ she said, taking the bag out of his hand, extracting the ice cream and putting it in the freezer, then putting the bag in the fridge. ‘Tea?’
‘Lovely. I haven’t had a drink for hours.’
‘Neither have I. I’ve been in the bath and I fell asleep.’
Oh, hell, he thought. Why had she told him that? Now all he could see was her beautiful, curvy body lapped by warm water, and desire, hot, hard and far from slaked by last night’s all too brief interlude, came screaming back to life.
This was such a profoundly lousy idea, he thought, but then she put the kettle on and turned towards him, propped herself against the worktop and smiled a rueful smile and he thought, She feels the same. She wasn’t going to do this, but she wants to just as much as I do.
And there was no way he could walk away.
Libby studied him for a long moment. There was a muscle working in his jaw, and she could see the throb of his pulse just above the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. She reached into the cupboard above the kettle, took out two glasses and filled them with water, handing him one.
He tilted his head in puzzlement, taking it from her and lifting it to his lips.
‘You didn’t really want to wait for tea, did you?’ she murmured, and he choked on the water.
Laughing helplessly, she took the glass out of his hand and slapped him on the back, then as he straightened, eyes streaming, his mouth curved with self-deprecating humour, she slipped her hand into his and led him out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs. By the time she turned to face him, they were standing by her bed and all trace of the smile was gone, replaced by a burning urgency in his eyes that stole her breath away.
‘I think you’re trying to kill me,’ he said softly as she peeled off the white sweater and dropped it on the floor. She’d kicked off her shoes, unfastened her jeans and started to slide them down her hips before he moved, then he tore his shirt off over his head, buttons pinging in all directions, kicked off his shoes, shucked his trousers, boxers and socks in one movement and eased her slowly up against him.
‘Oh, that feels so good,’ he muttered, then his mouth found hers and she sighed with relief.
She’d really thought it was over, that they’d go back to being colleagues, that the weekend would be put aside as if it had never happened—but no. He kissed her as if he’d die without her, slanting his head to get a better angle, one hand threaded into her hair, his fingers splayed, cradling her head, the other hand sliding round behind her and cupping her bottom, groaning as he hauled her closer, so she felt the hard jut of his erection against her abdomen.
Then he lifted his head and stared down into her eyes, easing away fractionally, his chest heaving. ‘Libby, I—I bought condoms,’ he said gruffly. ‘I didn’t know if you were worried about it—you know, for other reasons.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I trust you, and I’ve always been really careful, so if you don’t think it’s necessary I don’t want anything between us.’
He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes then, still holding her with one arm, he dragged the quilt out of the way with the other hand and tipped her back onto the mattress and followed her down, one solid, hair-strewn leg wedged between hers, his hand finding her breast, cupping it tenderly as he brushed his lips across it with a groan.
‘You’re gorgeous, do you know that? So much woman…’
She felt the deep, slow tug of his mouth on her nipple, the ache low down intensifying, and she tunnelled her fingers through his hair and held him close, giving herself up to the slow, painstaking and very thorough appraisal he was making of her body with his hands and lips.
Her own hands and lips were busy, too, exploring the fascinating textures of his body, the smooth satin skin over corded muscle and sinew, the ripple of reaction as she stroked teasingly over his abdomen, the coarse silk of his body hair, the taste of salt, the warm, rich scent of musk.
There was no hurry now. No urgency. They both knew where this was going to end, and they were taking their time, savouring every second, every last caress.
But then he lifted his head, staring down into her eyes, his own strangely intense.
‘I need you, Libby,’ he said softly. ‘You have no idea how much I need you.’
She reached up, her hand gentle on his cheek, cradling his jaw, relishing the harsh rasp of his beard against her palm.
Her touch was sweet to him, her smile enough to break his heart.
‘I’m here,’ she murmured, and for a crazy instant, he thought it sounded like a vow…
Libby went into work the following morning walking on air and with a smile she could do nothing to hide.
At least, not from Amy, who promptly grabbed her arm and dragged her into the office when she came up to the ward just before eight, as Libby finished the drugs round.
‘Well? I nearly went crazy yesterday! Why didn’t you ring me?’
‘I tried—you were engaged, then you were out.’
‘I wasn’t out—oh, rats, you must have rung when I was in the shower. You should have left a message, I’ve been on edge all night! So, tell all—was it fantastic?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said, the smile winning hands down. ‘It was amazing. Fabulous. Such a beautiful place, and the food was incredible.’
Amy smiled. ‘Great. And Andrew?’
Her brows went up, her head tilted, and Libby sighed inwardly. She might have known she wouldn’t get away with it! ‘We had a lovely weekend; it was a fabulous party, the dress was perfect, so thank you very much for lending it to me, and I didn’t fall out of it, which was a relief! I’ll get it cleaned.’
‘And Andrew?’ she prompted again, and Libby shrugged and tried hard not to look away.
‘He was lovely—a perfect gentleman. We had a great time, talked a lot, and I’ve got to know him a bit better, to understand what motivates him. It’ll be very useful for working with him.’
Amy’s jaw sagged. ‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it,’ she lied, determined to keep their private moments just that, but Amy looked sceptical and slightly disgusted.
‘You’re hopeless! “It’ll be very useful for working with him,’” she mimicked, making little quote marks in the air and rolling her eyes. ‘I despair of you! You go away with that hunk and that’s the best you can come up with—good grief, Libby, opportunities like that are wasted on you,’ she said, and, turning round, she almost fell over Andrew in the office doorway.
Over her head their eyes met, Libby’s bubbling over with laughter, Andrew’s slightly stunned. Lifting his hands, he stepped back, smiled and said, ‘Morning!’ and Amy went scarlet, mumbled something unintelligible and fled.
‘What was that about?’ he asked softly, frowning after her, and Libby chuckled.
‘She was getting a bit too close to the nitty-gritty. I thought—well, I didn’t know, but I imagined you didn’t want to go public,’ she said in a quiet undertone, and he nodded.
‘No. Thanks for that. I owe you.’
‘No, you don’t. I don’t want it spread all round the hospital either, and I love Amy to bits but it’s so easy to let things slip out and then someone else’ll get hold of it and it’ll be pinned on the notice-board before we know it.’
‘Sounds about right. So she thinks I’m a hunk, does she?’ he mused thoughtfully, and then Libby caught the twinkle in his eye and laughed.
‘Don’t get carried away. She’s been trying to fix me up with someone for over a year. Any single half-eligible male in the hospital is a hunk under those circumstances.’
‘So who’s she been trying to fix you up with?’ he asked, and for a moment she wondered if that really had been a flash of jealousy in his eyes.
‘Nobody. Anybody,’ she said honestly. ‘I don’t date.’
‘Why?’
Her heart thumped. Trust Andrew to get straight to the heart of it, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it, and this wasn’t the
time.
‘Oh—this and that,’ she said flippantly, but she gave a twisted little smile that tugged at his heartstrings.
‘Sounds messy,’ he murmured, searching her eyes for clues.
She shrugged, the simple gesture hiding a world of hurt. ‘A little bit. Whatever,’ she said, injecting artificial brightness into her voice. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Nothing. I was just passing, on my way back from clinics, and I thought I’d pop in, say hi.’
‘Well, hi,’ she said, smiling again with her eyes, the demons apparently banished, put back in their box. ‘Not busy today?’
‘Oh, I’m always busy, but somehow the lure was irresistible. ’ Something warm and gentle flickered in his expressive eyes, unravelling her a little. ‘In fact, how about lunch?’
‘Lunch? That would be lovely, if you’ve got time. Where? The canteen?’
He pulled a face. ‘That doesn’t really square with keeping things quiet, does it? I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I pick up some sandwiches and you come to my office for lunch? I’ve got a coffee machine in there—you know where it is, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘What time?’
‘What time can you do? Is one any good?’
‘Should be fine.’
‘Good. We can always pretend it’s work.’ And glancing over his shoulder, he pushed the door shut and eased her into his arms, dropping a lingering, tender kiss on her lips. ‘Just to keep you going,’ he murmured, and then with a mischievous wink, he opened the door and strolled out, hands in his pockets, leaving her heart fluttering and a smile on her face she could do nothing about.
She sucked in a deep breath, gave him a minute to get off the ward and then went out. There was lots she should be doing. Joel needed turning, Lucas probably needed stringing up and the twins were getting bored and needed a change of scenery. A little concentration on something other than Andrew would be good for her, she decided, and finding a nurse to help her, she started work.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE tapped on Andrew’s door and went in at his crisp, decisive ‘Yes!’
He looked up and blinked, as if he’d been miles away. ‘Is it really one already? Sorry, I’ve been up to my eyes, I had no idea it was so late.’
He closed the folder, got to his feet and came over to her, pushed the door shut and hugged her. ‘Sorry, it’s been a bit mad round here. I’ll make us coffee—have a look through the sandwiches and choose what you want. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.’
While he fiddled with the coffee maker, she stared at the pile of plastic containers on his desk and chuckled, poking them around with her finger so she could read the labels. ‘Is that why there are four different sorts?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ll eat them later if we don’t finish them.’
She picked out the prawn salad on wholemeal and waggled them at him. ‘Can I have these?’
‘You can have whatever you want. I like them all. Here, coffee.’
He handed her a mug, pulled up another chair to his desk and sat down beside her, ripping the lid off the chicken tikka sandwich and sinking his teeth into it. ‘Ah, that’s better. I’m starving. The bread was off, I haven’t had breakfast.’
‘How can bread be off?’
‘You know, blue hairy bits.’
She winced. ‘Sounds worse than my fridge.’
‘It is. I forgot to buy bread yesterday at the supermarket—something to do with a certain ward sister I couldn’t get out of my mind,’ he said mildly, but his eyes were teasing and she couldn’t help smiling back.
‘Is that right?’
‘It’s right.’ He chomped down on the sandwich again, demolishing it in another two bites and starting on the next packet. ‘So—good day so far?’
She dusted off her hands and picked up her mug. ‘I’d like to say yes, but actually, now you come to mention it, not really. There’s someone I’d like to talk to you about. Joel. His spirits are down.’
‘I’m not surprised. He’s going to be a long time in that halo, and having both arms in plaster isn’t good either.’
‘No. And he hates having to ask for help with all the personal stuff. I was wondering when we could get him up.’
‘Oh, probably soon. I’d like him home in a week or two. He’ll need looking after, of course, but it’s a case of time now and his fracture’s stable. I’ll get him X-rayed again and see if we think he’s ready to start mobilising. And Lucas, too—we need to think about discharging him soon. He must be driving you mad.’
‘He is, bless his heart, but I’ll miss him.’
He chuckled. ‘Liar. He’s a pain.’
‘No, he’s a good kid. Just a little reckless.’
‘Talking of which,’ he added slowly, ‘are you busy this evening? Will and Sally are staying at mine tonight. She’s got an antenatal appointment tomorrow, and they’re coming in time for supper. We were going to get a takeaway. Would you like to join us?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of gatecrashing your evening,’ she protested, but he just laughed and leant over and kissed her softly.
‘Don’t be silly. You won’t be gatecrashing. I’ve been wondering how I could slide off later and come round to your house. You’ll just save me the effort of sneaking around.’
She searched his eyes, looking for doubts, and found none. ‘He’ll know, if he sees us together,’ she murmured, and he nodded.
‘I know. But I trust him, and while I don’t want the entire hospital talking about us, I’m quite happy for my brother to know. And, anyway, I’m pretty sure he already does.’
She smiled. ‘Then, thank you, that would be lovely. You’d better give me your address—and directions, because I don’t have a sat-nav.’
He laughed softly. ‘I’ll come and get you. Sixthirty, OK?’
‘Fine. I’ll look forward to it. What should I wear?’
‘Oh, nothing smart. Jeans?’
‘Jeans it is,’ she said with a relieved smile, and sipped her coffee. ‘How’s Jacob, by the way? I take it he’s no worse, since you haven’t mentioned him. Or was it him you were running around after all morning?’
‘No, fortunately not, that was just following up after the weekend and doing my clinic. He’s doing well. We’re really hopeful. I’ve just come from a multi-disciplinary team meeting in PICU, and they’re talking about cutting back on the sedation, see how he does. The swelling on his brain’s subsiding and he’s looking good.’
‘Fantastic. I’ll keep my fingers crossed. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.’ She smiled wryly and got to her feet. ‘I’d better get on. I’ve promised Lucas he can go down to the coffee shop with his mum for lunch, and he’s talked about nothing but basketball since you mentioned it, apparently! I feel sorry for Amy. She’s going to have to get him up and running again double-quick!’
He chuckled, threw their sandwich wrappers in the bin and dropped another of those teasing, lingering kisses on her lips. ‘Talking of which, I have to get on, too. I’ll see you later,’ he murmured, then with a slow, lazy wink, he opened the door for her, waggled his fingers in farewell and went the other way towards the clinics, whistling softly and leaving her to head back to the ward, her heart singing.
She was seeing him tonight, at his home, with his brother. Going public, albeit in a private sort of way. That had to be good—didn’t it? Progress?
She was shocked at how much she hoped so.
He picked her up at six thirty-two, by which time she’d showered, changed and changed again. Twice.
Still just jeans, but different jeans, and the cream jumper she’d had on the night before, but then she went back to the original top, not as warm but prettier. And then changed back again into the jumper, just as the doorbell rang. Pretty be damned. She wasn’t going to be cold, and there was a bitter nip to the air this evening, to remind them all that it was only April and frosts were not yet a thing of the past.
‘We could always skip supper,’ he s
aid, sliding his arms round her and nuzzling her neck. ‘You smell gorgeous. Apples and cinnamon—like apple pie.’
She laughed a little breathlessly. ‘That’s apple shampoo and a spicy scent Amy gave me for Christmas.’
‘Good for Amy—nice choice,’ he said, releasing her reluctantly and standing back. ‘Ready to go? Where’s your overnight bag?’
She hesitated. ‘Is that a good idea? Then I’ll have to rely on you for transport tomorrow. That’s going to be a bit obvious when we arrive for work.’
He nodded. ‘You’re right.’
‘You could always stay here, though,’ she suggested tentatively.
‘Or you could follow me in your car, with your things. That way we can all see more of each other and I’ll have time to talk to Will in the morning. I’ve got some things I need to discuss with him before I go to work, and I don’t need to start tomorrow until eight-thirty, but you can shoot off when you’re ready.’
‘Oh.’ She felt a flicker of doubt. The weekend at his parents’ house was one thing. This, inviting her round to join him for the night while Will and Sally were there, was quite another, for a man who’d said he didn’t want a relationship. ‘Are you sure you want me to come?’
‘Absolutely sure. I told you that earlier. Get your things. I’ll draw you a map in case you lose me.’
‘Don’t lose me,’ she said, and he smiled as if he understood.
‘I won’t,’ he promised.
She stuck to him like glue.
His first stop was to the Indian takeaway on the corner near the hospital, and then he headed out into the country.
Not far, just a couple of miles, but far enough that they left the lights behind them and turned onto a narrow, winding little lane. He swept onto a gently shelving drive, triggering security lights, and came to a halt in front of a sprawling single-storey barn conversion, and she parked beside him and looked around.
It was impressive, but not overly so—not outrageously ostentatious like Ashenden, just tasteful and well groomed, the gravel free of weeds, the low beds of ground cover neatly tended, the house itself welcoming, with big, heavy pots of clipped bay each side of the entrance, formal and yet understated. She couldn’t wait to see the inside.
The Surgeon's Miracle / Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell Page 9