You are ruined, a voice whispered. You will never, ever meet another man like Sol. There is no other man like Solomon Gunn.
But she couldn’t allow herself such thoughts. That path only led to misery. And so she ejected the unwelcome voice from her head and wriggled out from under Sol, pushing him onto his back, her eyes locking with his as she knelt over him and drew him deep into her mouth.
He was big and hot, like silky steel, and she forgot that she was meant to be distracting herself from the intimacy of his mouth on her body and instead lost herself in the intimacy of her tongue swirling over and around him. She was tormenting him and pleasuring him with every second. The way she’d learned to do this past week. The way she never seemed to tire of doing. She probably never would.
She shut the errant thought down once again, concentrating on the moment. Reminding herself that this was just about sex. Only ever about sex.
There could be nothing more.
Lifting her eyes, she made herself focus on Sol. The intensity of his gaze and the unmistakeable shudder of need that took over his body made her feel powerful, and wicked. And all woman. She sucked him in deeper, wanting to lose herself inside that power, in a way she’d never enjoyed with any man before Sol.
Only Sol.
But apparently he wasn’t prepared to let things end on her terms. With a low, primal groan, he pulled himself from her mouth and flipped her onto her back as he moved his body to cover hers. His hands traced every inch of her as though she was a revelation to him. It was incredible how precious, how special, she always felt when she was in his arms. Yet she was too hot, too needy, for any more play.
As though reading her mind, Sol shifted, nestling between her legs until she could feel his blunt end dipping into her.
‘Please, Sol,’ she breathed, desperate to lose herself in the primitive sensations that might drown out the other, more dangerous emotions that tumbled in her chest.
Emotions she told herself she had no name for.
Even as she was altogether too afraid that she could name them. Every last one.
And when Sol finally thrust inside her, deep and slow and sure, his gaze holding hers, she refused to let her eyes slide from him. She held her breath, for fear the words she refused to face might fall from them.
Sol moved, pulling out of her before driving home again. Deeper, tighter, hungrier. Driving her faster and faster towards the top. When she finally catapulted over the edge, and heard herself cry out his name, his eyes still holding hers as he followed her, she knew the truth in her heart but she still wasn’t prepared to hear Sol say it out loud.
Clear and raw, as though the words had been ripped from the very depths of his soul.
‘I love you, zolotse.’
‘No,’ she choked out. Then, louder, ‘No!’
‘I’m in love with you, Anouk.’ He tried the words again, rolling them around on his tongue, still in shock.
He was in shock. He hadn’t intended to say them, much less repeat them, and yet the inexplicable thing was that the more he said them out loud, the easier it felt. The more he liked the way they tasted in his mouth, the way they sounded to his ears.
Like a melody he’d thought he would never want to hear.
‘You can’t say that.’ She was furious. ‘I won’t hear it. Take it back.’
‘Not possible,’ he managed. ‘It’s out there and it can’t be taken back.’
She stared at him as though he had physically wounded her.
‘Why are you doing this?’
Her evident confusion clawed at his heart. It wasn’t as if he understood completely himself. And yet, each time he said it, it made more sense.
Everything made more sense.
‘I swore I would never fall in love with any woman. Ever. But here I am. And I know you feel the same way about me.’
‘I don’t,’ she choked, scrambling to get off him.
Away from him.
He let her, even as he emitted a laugh at the irony of it.
He, who had spent over a decade steering clear of relationships with women who would inevitably declare themselves in love with him, was now in love.
It seemed only fitting that he should be the one saying it whilst the woman he loved didn’t want to accept it. As if it was a test of his own making. He’d never failed a damned test in his entire career, he wasn’t about to start now.
‘Our deal was sex. Pure and simple,’ she cried, spinning around searching for her clothes. ‘You’re the king of one-night stands.’
‘I was. Until you came along.’
He watched her locate her T-shirt and pull it on, then flail around for her jeans. He didn’t try to stop her, he didn’t want her to feel trapped or cornered, but he didn’t share her fluster. He just felt calm. At peace.
It was odd, the way the minute he’d admitted that he loved her, everything had seemed to start slotting into place, piece by piece. He felt somehow...whole.
‘You said it yourself—I used sex as a distraction.’ He shrugged. ‘That I just needed to meet the right person. Turns out you were right.’
‘No. No, I wasn’t.’ She shoved her feet into her jeans, first one and then the other, before yanking them up those slender legs that had spent so much of the night wrapped around him. ‘You told me that I didn’t know the first thing about you. That I was reading too much into it because I wanted you to be a better man than you really are.’
‘Turns out I was wrong.’
‘No!’ Her voice sounded mangled, wretched, and his heart actually ached for her.
‘You can deny it as many times as you like, Anouk. It won’t change it, believe me. I’ve been pretending to myself that there was nothing more than sex between us—just like you are now—but I can’t pretend any longer.’
‘Then try,’ she half choked, half bit out.
She looked wounded, and fragile, and even more beautiful than ever. As if finally acknowledging the truth had infused his whole world with a more vivid colour.
How had he ever thought that love was destructive? How had he failed to realise just how glorious it could be?
‘More to the point,’ he told her quietly, ‘I don’t want to pretend that it’s just sex any more.’
‘This is about the chase. You only think you love me because I’m the first woman who made you work for it. Because you had to give a little of yourself, telling me about your childhood and your hardships, in order to get closer to me.’
‘You’re wrong, Anouk.’ At one time her words would have got under his skin, clawing at him, leaving scars. All he felt now was calm acceptance. It was enough to steal his breath away.
‘You’ve confused lust for love.’
‘I’ve never confused lust for anything.’ He smiled. ‘I always welcomed it, indulged in it. I don’t love you because you are the first woman who made me work for you. I love you because you’re the only woman who has ever made me want to work for it.’
‘I don’t want this.’ She shook her head, sounding as if she was trying to swallow a sob. ‘You can’t do this to me.’
He stood with deliberate care, so as not to startle her. And despite all her protestations she froze, her eyes fixed on his body, the naked longing in them belying every word she was trying to tell him.
‘I think you do want this, Anouk.’ He reached for his own jeans, pulling them on slowly. Controlled. ‘And I think that’s what you’re most afraid of. That, and the fact that it means trusting another person for the first time in your life.’
‘I trust Saskia,’ she shot back.
‘This is different. Love is different. We both know that.’
‘I can’t offer you that.’ Stumbling to the door, she gripped the handle so tightly that her knuckles went white. ‘I can’t offer you anything. I don’t have the capacity for it.’
He watched her stop, sucking in one deep breath after another and straightening her shoulders.
When she turned to him, he could see the forged steel in her eyes. But, behind the steel, stuffed as far back as she could manage, he could also see a desperate yearning to believe.
‘You don’t know what love is, Sol. Any more than I do. You don’t care. Right now, it’s thrilling because I’ve made you feel something you’ve never felt before. But whatever it is, it isn’t love.’
‘It’s love, Anouk,’ he assured her, calmly and quietly, because he’d never been so sure of anything in his life. ‘I thought I wasn’t capable of it. It turns out I just wasn’t capable of it with anybody but you.’
‘They’re just hollow words,’ she gasped, and even as she tried to argue he knew she was struggling to stay standing. ‘I know that even if you don’t, which is why I’m leaving now. And one day, in the not too distant future, no doubt, you’ll thank me for it.’
‘I want you to do whatever it is that you need to do, Anouk. I won’t thank you for leaving, but neither will I blame you for it. Just as long as you remember you can come back.’
‘You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you? So arrogant.’ She blinked, apparently not realising she’d raised her voice until she heard it echoing back at her.
‘I’ve never apologised for who I am.’ He kept his voice even. ‘So yes, I’m willing to bet on myself. You’ll come back to me. It’s inevitable.’
‘I’ll never come back,’ she gritted out.
Then she opened the door and lurched out, leaving him where he stood.
Sol had no idea how long he stood there, not moving, barely even daring to breathe. Waiting for Anouk to walk back through the doorway.
But she didn’t. The truth was that he didn’t know if she ever would. Yet he regretted nothing. He loved her.
He had never loved any other woman. He knew he never would.
All he could do was hope that she was as strong as he thought she was. That she would be able to trust herself and admit what he already knew to be true.
Anouk loved him, too.
And he could hope that, one day, he would have the chance to prove to her that he cared. That his actions would tell her he loved her in a way that she could believe, even if she couldn’t accept his words.
Maybe it would take days, perhaps weeks. It could even take years. But he had to believe it would happen.
And when it did, he wouldn’t miss his chance.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘THIS IS ADAM. He’s eight years old and he fell approximately eight feet over the retaining wall at the bottom of his garden and onto grass below. He is normally fit and well with no allergies. He’s not on any meds and he’s up to date with all his jabs. He was playing at the bottom of the garden with his sister when the fence gave way and he fell down to the grass below, landing on his face and knocking out two teeth and there are a couple more loose in his mouth. He suffered a loss of consciousness of approximately one minute. Mum travelled in the helicopter with us, and Dad is on his way by car.’
‘You have the teeth?’
‘In some milk in there.’ The HEMS doctor indicated a plastic fruit box his colleague was carrying.
‘Okay, thank you.’ Anouk bobbed her head. ‘Okay, guys, let’s get started.’
As her colleagues worked to set up the drips and take the bloods for testing, Anouk concentrated on the young boy.
‘Adam? Can you hear me, sweetie? My name is Anouk and I’m the doctor who will be making you better. Can you tell me what happened, at all?’ She turned to her team. ‘Let’s give him two point five mil of morphine, try to make him more comfortable.’
‘Sure.’ Her colleague nodded. ‘Do you want me to get Maxillofacial?’
‘Good idea,’ she agreed. ‘Give them a shout. Okay, let’s get this little boy comfortable so that we can get him for a CT scan and check what’s going on in his head.’
Even as she spoke, the monitors began to bleep, and her colleagues around the boy simultaneously declared the patient was becoming breathless.
‘He’s going tachycardic,’ Anouk warned. ‘Let’s bag him.’
‘Do you want to intubate?’
Anouk frowned. Adam’s airway was at risk because if one of those loose teeth dislodged and he inhaled it, it could potentially block off his airway.
‘He hasn’t stopped breathing,’ she confirmed. ‘Let’s see if we can’t give OMS a chance to see him first.’
And the sooner she could get the little boy to the scanner to check his brain, the better.
* * *
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
Anouk jumped at the quiet voice by her shoulder. She didn’t look up from the screen but she could no longer see a single word or image that was now swimming in front of her eyes.
‘No,’ she tried to deny it. ‘I’ve just been...busy.’
It was partially true. She had been busy. Mostly she’d been busy trying not to relive his declaration to her, because she honestly didn’t know how she felt about it.
She was supposed to not believe in love. She had spent years telling herself what love looked like and it had been an ugly, selfish, cruel image that she’d painted in her own head.
But the minute those very same words had come out of Sol’s mouth, they had erased all of it, leaving something so beautiful, and precious, almost ethereal in their stead. Almost too perfect to be real.
So how could she trust it?
‘I don’t regret saying it,’ he announced softly, as though he could read her thoughts.
The worst thing about it was that she so wanted to believe him.
‘I’m sorry... I can’t.’ She shook her head, her words almost lost between her voice box and her ears. ‘They’re just words. They don’t prove anything.’
‘You need to come with me.’
‘I’m working.’
‘The place is quiet. In an hour it probably won’t be, but, for now, you have half an hour. Come with me.’
She didn’t need to hear him move to sense that he was leaving without her. She ought to let him.
Rising from her stool, with just another quick glance around to check that all was okay, Anouk followed him out of Resus.
‘Where are we going?’
The winding nature of the old part of the hospital seemed to conspire with Sol to add to the sense of suspense today.
It had been a good day. Even her young patient, Adam, had defied the odds to avoid any serious injuries.
‘You’ll see.’ Sol didn’t slow his pace.
She tried not to dwell on the fact that he sounded so serious and intent. It was just her second-guessing herself. Not wanting to give away the fact that she’d realised she was doing something as wholly and utterly stupid as falling for the man.
She’d have to be an idiot to forget who she was dealing with.
And the worst thing about it was that she seemed to be exactly that idiot.
Where was Sol leading?
‘We’re going to the cafeteria?’ she guessed, as she stretched out her stride trying to keep up with him.
He seemed sharper, edgier than usual.
‘Yes.’
‘Sol, it’s been a long shift. I don’t want to eat here. I’d rather just finish my shift and go home.’
‘You’re not eating here.’ He stopped, taking her chin in his hands and tilting her head up to his.
The look he shot her was altogether too hot, and she shivered at the naughty thoughts that he could stir up with just a glance.
&nbs
p; Her breath caught in her chest. Almost painful as it lodged there.
‘What’s going on, Sol?’
He turned her so that she was looking in through the internal cafeteria window.
‘Can you see that woman sitting at the table over there? Sixties to seventies? Red coat on the back of the chair?’
Anouk scanned the room, focussing on the area where he was pointing. There was no reason in the world for her heart to thump. But it did.
‘Why? Who is she?’
‘That’s your grandmother, Anouk. Your father’s mother. Mal found her.’
Something dark, and angry, and...panicky rolled through her.
‘Malachi did?’ She could hear things crashing around her. It took a moment to realise it was in her head. ‘You had your brother track her down?’
How could Sol have contacted her grandmother behind her back? How could he have brought her here? How could he have ambushed her like this?
Anouk didn’t know how long she stood there. Probably only a few seconds but it felt like days. Her hands were clenched so tightly that her fingernails scored marks deep into her palms. And then she was spinning around, plunging back across the room, knocking chairs flying outside a consultation room, but wholly unable to stop, or turn, or pick them back up.
Sol caught up with her as she tore along the corridor away from the dining area.
‘Anouk, stop. Stop. Don’t run away.’
‘Don’t run away?’ she snapped, her voice just about managing to work again. ‘Don’t run away?’
This time it was louder. She felt Sol’s hands on her shoulders and she shrugged them off with a violence she would never have thought she possessed.
‘Anouk—’
‘How dare you do that to me?’ she roared, because it was either that or give into this thing spiralling inside her that would make her crumple and fold.
She was dimly aware of Sol checking up and down the corridor as staff moved curiously through, before he tested a few doors and then pulled her into a consultation room. She didn’t know whose. She didn’t care.
Unwrapping the Neurosurgeon's Heart Page 15