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Six Sexy Doctors Part 1 (Mills & Boon e-Book Collections): A Doctor, A Nurse: A Little Miracle / The Children's Doctor and the Single Mum / A Wife for ... / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal

Page 69

by Carol Marinelli


  ‘I can’t stand it,’ Annie sobbed, as Nathan traced patterns up the inside of her thigh with the tip of his tongue, getting closer and closer to the very core of her that cried out in desperate need for his attention.

  ‘Yes, you can.’ His slow, deliberate, teasing caresses were sensual torture. ‘I’ve waited five years for this—endured five years of misery without you. Now I’m going to take my time and relish every second of doing all the things I’ve been yearning to do to you for far too long.’

  Every part of her was trembling and on fire for him. ‘Nathan…’

  He stole her breath away with the clever actions of his lips, teeth and tongue as he finally reached her most sensitive flesh. Her hips rose to meet him, but his hands tightened to prevent her moving, holding her where he wanted her, captive to his every desire. Time and again he took her step by step towards the moment of oblivion, only to pull back, refusing to allow her relief. She begged and pleaded until she was hoarse, sure she couldn’t survive the intensity of the pleasure. Despite the fact that her heart was racing like a mad thing, her blood felt as thick and sluggish as molasses in her veins. Her hands fisted in the bedsheet as she tried to anchor herself.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it another second Nathan slid two fingers inside her, immediately finding the hottest spot that threatened to send her straight into orbit, stroking rhythmically, slowly, deeply, and with just the right pressure to make her fear for her sanity.

  ‘It’s too much!’

  ‘It’s never too much. Come for me, sweetheart. Again.’

  He closed his mouth over her clitoris, using his lips and his tongue to send her flying over the edge into the abyss, and the onslaught of ecstasy was too much to cope with as he relentlessly extended and prolonged her climax.

  As she gradually floated back to earth, with the aftershocks of her shattering orgasm still undulating through her, Nathan rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He handed her a condom, but she set the foil packet aside, determined to have time to enjoy his body as he had enjoyed hers.

  She kissed her way over his chest, lingering to feather and swirl her tongue around each male nipple in turn, smiling at the way his hands fisted in her hair, at the groan drawn from deep within him. How could she have forgotten the joy of intimately exploring every inch of such masculine perfection? She nibbled her way across his abdomen and then down the narrow line of dark hair to play at his navel, knowing how sensitive he was there, making him toss impatiently beneath her.

  Her hands explored, fingers relearning every plane and curve and hollow of his body, finally zeroing in on his impressive erection. He was hot and hard, swelling further to her touch. She loved the feel of him…the softest skin over the steel core. Moving impatiently beneath her, he cursed as she traced his length with her tongue, savouring the musky male taste of him as she took him into her mouth.

  Nathan’s response was immediate, urging her to hurry. Just as impatient, and unable to wait any longer, she searched for the condom, opened it, and rolled it deftly on before moving to straddle him. His hands skimmed her thighs, stroking over her hips and up her stomach to her breasts. She arched into his touch, her cry mingling with his as she sank down and reunited them with one sure motion.

  The feel of him so deep and tight inside her was indescribable. She wanted to stay that way for ever, but he took back control, rolling them again in the tangled sheets until she was beneath him once more. Annie clung to him, wrapping her legs around him, never wanting this to end, scared of what would happen when reality intruded once more. Forcing the thought aside, she lost herself in the fiery magic of loving Nathan—of being loved by Nathan—giving everything with her body, heart and soul as fierce pleasure built and built again in an unstoppable swell, overtaking them, sweeping them away on a tidal wave of need and desire.

  ‘Annie…’

  As Nathan buried his face in her neck his hold on her tightened, one hand at her nape, his other arm wrapped around her hips. She closed her mouth on his shoulder, tasting the salty heat of his skin. ‘Now—please.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Crying out in unison, they crested together as her climax triggered his, plunging them into the vortex, racking them with the intensity of release. For a moment Annie thought she actually blacked out. As she slowly regained her senses, gasping for breath, her heart beating a crazy tattoo in her chest, Nathan shifted to one side to ease his weight from her, taking her with him, cradling her against him.

  Neither of them spoke. Trying to calm her racing pulse and make sure her lungs were working and receiving oxygen again, Annie nuzzled against him, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath her palm. She inhaled the familiar scent of him, mixed with the heat of his body and the musky aroma of their pleasure. It made her feel heady with excitement. She relaxed, spent but exhilarated, soothed by the feel of his fingers stroking her hair, brushing the damp strands back from her flushed face.

  Annie wasn’t sure what brought her back to herself. Frowning, she realised she must have dozed off. The bedside light had been switched off, and in the dark silence of the bedroom the only sounds were Nathan’s steady pulse against her ear and his even breathing. Her head still rested on his chest, but his hold had loosened as he slept. Some of her doubts and anxieties returned as she came more awake and her fogged brain began to clear. What had she done? She needed to think—needed to decide how to explain things to Nathan, was all too aware how much they had to talk about in the cold light of day.

  Lifting her head, she was shocked to read the time displayed on the digital clock beside the bed, its figures luminous in the darkness. She’d had no idea it was so late. Due at work early in the morning, she needed to get home. Whilst she hated to leave Nathan, maybe some distance between them would be a good thing. The space would allow them to approach all that had happened—both in the past and tonight—with clearer minds.

  Slipping out of bed, already feeling bereft without Nathan’s touch, Annie turned on the light in the hallway, using its glow to gather up her discarded clothes. After putting on her boots, she found her jumper on the bedroom floor and pulled it on, unable to bear the restriction of her bra against her sensitised flesh. A blush washed her cheeks when she found her torn panties. Retracing her steps, she discovered her skirt in the living room, and she pulled it on before heading out to the hallway.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  About to open the front door, Annie gasped in surprise at the sound of Nathan’s sleepily sexy voice behind her and swung round. He looked deliciously rumpled, sated, yet with the spark of hunger still in his eyes. She was relieved he had taken time to pull on his boxer shorts. Faced with the perfection of his body in full naked glory, she wasn’t sure she would have survived temptation.

  ‘I’m on early at work, like you. I have to get home,’ she explained, wishing she sounded less nervous and awkward. ‘Will doesn’t know where I am. He’ll be worried.’

  A tense silence followed, and she saw Nathan’s expression close as he shut her off from his thoughts and emotions. Darkly brooding, he closed the distance between them.

  ‘You’re going back to him? Now? After what we’ve just shared?’ His anger was evident, and Annie suddenly realised how her words had sounded and the way they had been misconstrued. ‘I guess I know where I stand. What was this, Annie? A tumble for old times’ sake?’

  ‘No, you don’t understand!’

  ‘I understand you’re not the woman I thought you were. I’m not a plaything,’ he snapped, reaching past her to open the door, allowing in a gust of icy wind.

  Annie shivered, more from the hurt disgust and chill in his dark eyes than from the coldness of the weather. ‘It’s not like that. Please let me explain,’ she begged him, distraught at how the situation had run away with her.

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘Nathan—’

  His hand closed around her upper arm and she found herself outside before she could explain further. ‘
I’m not into sharing. I have more respect for myself. And for Will. Even if you don’t.’

  ‘Please…’

  ‘We’re done, Annie.’

  The door closed in her face and the lock snapped shut. She called his name, rang the bell and banged on the door without success. Desperate, she bent down to peer through the letterbox, in time to see Nathan’s retreating figure disappear from view. His bedroom door slammed, effectively closing her off from him.

  Tears coursed down Annie’s cheeks. How could everything have gone so terribly wrong in an instant? How could she have been so stupid? Instead of sorting things out she had made them worse—had stumbled and stuttered and given Nathan entirely the wrong impression. The white lie she had told in a moment of desperation that first day he had appeared back in her life had turned into a deception of mammoth proportions. And she had hurt Nathan. Badly. Again. He would never forgive her, even if she tried to explain the web of lies and misunderstandings in which she had entangled them. And why should he? She had done him wrong now, just as she had five years ago.

  Nathan thought she had used him and betrayed Will, that she had become the sort of woman who slept around and cheated. She had no one else to blame but herself. This whole situation had rapidly spiralled out of her control. She had tricked Nathan into believing her relationship with Will was a genuine one, so how could she fault him for misunderstanding, for being principled and looking at her with such distaste? She had messed up for a second time in the most awful way possible. Not only hurting him once more but destroying his respect for her and his trust in her. Not to mention any love he still felt for her.

  Brushing the tears from her face, she walked unsteadily down the path to her car. Her heart and her soul were shattered. Making love with Nathan again had made her realise how right they were together, how much she had missed him, wanted him in her life. Too late she knew the truth—she loved Nathan with every fibre of her being. She had then and she did now. More than ever. For a second time she had blown it. And thanks to her own stupidity she might never get another chance.

  All she could do was go home and try again when she saw him at work the next day, hoping he would have had time to cool down. She had to believe he would listen as she confessed to her mistakes, to her deception. She owed it to him—to them—to lay everything on the line in the hope it wasn’t too late. Whether Nathan could ever forgive her was another matter entirely.

  * * *

  Nathan sat on the bed, numb with shock, battling to re-erect his shattered defences, feeling as if all hope had been stripped from him. The pain was worse than ever, and he was furious with himself for being sucked in again, for allowing himself to believe in fairytales. After their evening making love he had thought there was more than a chance for them, that Annie had come to him wanting to put things right. He’d been a fool a second time.

  Her casual remark that she was going home to Will had cut him to the core. Nothing had ever hurt so much. How could she behave that way? His Annie would never have done anything like that. And whatever her game-plan was, whatever she thought of him, how could she treat Will so badly? He didn’t know this woman at all.

  Oppressive loneliness ate away at his insides, doubling him up. He had only himself to blame for his own idiocy, for believing all this time in a love that clearly didn’t exist. Not on Annie’s side, anyway. She had broken his heart once before and now he’d been stupid enough to let her do it again. Even after five years of pain she had drawn him like a moth to a flame. He’d come here to see her, and had known at once it had been a huge mistake because the love he felt was still there, yet he hadn’t been able to make himself leave. She’d remained unfinished business for so long, a wound that refused to heal, and now she had taken a scalpel to that wound and ripped it wide open again.

  Cursing aloud, he rose to his feet, switching off the lights as he walked through to the living room. He couldn’t stay in the bed—not when it held memories of her, smelled of her. Hell, he’d probably never sleep anyway. He curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, feeling chilled to the bone. Why did he keep torturing himself like this? Why was Annie the one woman he couldn’t get out of his head?

  It was time for him to face reality, to take off the rose-coloured blinkers. As hard and painful as it was to admit, there could be no future for him with Annie. It was finally over. He couldn’t do this any more—would never risk the shattered fragments of his broken heart again. He would have to move on, find somewhere else to start over.

  Africa?

  There was a job there for him if he wanted it. The prospect didn’t fill him with the joy and excitement it should, but he knew it was a place he was needed, somewhere he could make a difference and do something worthwhile. It was also a place where his hurt and loss would count for little compared to the suffering of people he could help. But he knew that even thousands of miles and several countries away Annie would continue to haunt him…

  Already feeling on the ragged edge after his latest disaster withAnnie the previous night, Nathan choked back emotion as he called the time of death, unable to tear his gaze away from the motionless body of their tiny patient. Tension and despair hung thickly in the atmosphere of the resus bay.

  After a sleepless night he had come to work early, both to avoid Annie and to inform his bosses that he would not be staying in Strathlochan. He had arrived at the hospital to find A and E in chaos, with an influx of emergencies coinciding with the change-over of shifts. Before he could take care of the issue of his resignation he had been called urgently to attend to the collapsed child. Finding that her three-month-old daughter Millie had stopped breathing, Jayne Lewis, who lived two roads away, had rushed the baby in herself rather than wait for an ambulance.

  With everyone else assigned to seriously ill patients, Nathan, as the most senior doctor available, had shouldered responsibility, taking Millie to Resus while her distraught mother was comforted in a private room by a nurse. The on-call paediatric consultant had been fast-bleeped, but had been dealing with another emergency on the children’s ward and was yet to arrive in A and E. Now it was too late.

  After their fruitless attempts to revive little Millie the rest of the staff filed silently away. Whilst they might not show their emotions outwardly, Nathan knew that everyone had been affected by what had happened. One of the nurses stayed behind to clear things away, remove IV lines and disconnect the monitors. Tears clustered on her lashes as she prepared the tiny body, wrapping Millie in a clean, soft blanket so that her mother could hold her one last time. A huge lump lodged in Nathan’s throat. He still had to face Jayne Lewis to tell her the news.

  Gail, her own eyes moist and filled with sadness, gave him a hug. ‘You did everything possible, Nathan. We all did. It’s tragic and horrible, but there was really no hope from the moment Millie arrived.’

  ‘If the paediatric consultant had been here—’

  ‘She could have done nothing to change the outcome,’ Gail interrupted firmly, staunch in her support and understanding.

  Nathan nodded, holding on to his composure by a thread. In his head he knew Gail was right, but it didn’t take away the pain and helplessness of the last thirty minutes. Although showing no signs of rigidity or blood pooling, they had all known there was zero chance of saving Millie. Yet she had been intubated at once, chest compressions started. Unable to find any viable vein, Nathan had inserted a needle into a leg bone in order to rapidly deliver fluids and drugs. Nothing had worked. There had been no hope. But they had had to try—for Millie, for her mother, for themselves.

  ‘I’ll come with you to see the mother.’

  ‘Thanks, Gail.’ Unable to produce a smile, he rested a hand on her shoulder, grateful for her empathy. ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘Yes, I do. We’re in it together with this job. The good and the bad.’

  Following the standard procedure in place in this hospital, Nathan went to the room where Jayne Lewis waited with the nurse assigned t
o comfort her. Jayne’s aunt and a friend had arrived, to add their support. Breaking bad news was something that never became easier, Nathan thought, but he sat beside the shocked, sobbing woman, holding her hand as he tried to explain the unexplainable. Millie—healthy, happy and well-loved—had been a victim of sudden infant death syndrome.

  The awful task completed, Gail accompanied Jayne to see Millie while he shut himself in the office and forced himself to focus on completing the official paperwork. He had to inform the Procurator Fiscal of the death, as well as ensure that all samples and notes were properly labelled and recorded before he signed off on them. Next he arranged for photographs, should Jayne want them, then organised a bereavement counsellor and notified the GP, so that follow-up care would be offered.

  Nothing changed the outcome.

  Millie had died.

  It was the worst start possible to a dreadful day, and he didn’t even want to think what else could go wrong.

  Desperate for some space and a cup of tea, Nathan left the office and headed to the staffroom—only to run into Annie. He couldn’t deal with her now. Just looking at her hurt. Thankful that there were other people in the room, he kept his back to Annie and switched on the kettle, wishing he didn’t still want her despite everything. Why was he such a fool over this woman? He knew he had to walk away to save his own sanity, so why was it so hard to do?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NATHAN looked dreadful.

  Constrained by the presence of the others in the room, Annie bit her lip and watched in silence as he stood at the worktop and made a cup of tea. His back was ramrod-straight, his shoulders stiff—everything about his pose screamed unapproachability.

 

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