Her Hot Highland Doc

by Annie O'Neil

  Brodie took Kali on a high-speed tour of the rest of the house. An expansive kitchen, a pantry the size of her flat in Ireland, a cozy snug with a television, and, toward the rear, a more formal sitting room and a huge swirl of a staircase leading up to the bedrooms.

  He showed Kali to one of the two guestrooms his parents had had built—styled to make the guests feel like they were in a tree house—and brushed off Kali’s compliments, muttering something about seeing her down in the kitchen after she’d had a chance to settle in.

  As he walked back down to the kitchen Brodie tried to see the house though Kali’s eyes. Time had dulled the memory of just how amazing they’d all thought it was as they’d seen it coming together, stone by beam, by slate. There was no question about its appeal. But it was weighted with just about every single reason he found it hard to stay in Dunregan.

  Putting down roots. Family. Commitment. All things he was quite happy to put on hold. Indefinitely. And yet showing Kali around had tapped a pretty deep well of pride...and affection. She had a way of bringing out the positive...and it felt good. Healing.

  Kali swooped into the kitchen, layers of clothes peeled off to reveal a simple flowery button-up blouse and a swishy little skirt, her delight still wholly undisguised.

  “It’s so warm in here!”

  “My parents had the house built with under-floor heating. It keeps the place pretty cozy, even in winter.”

  “You mean spring, right?”

  “It might be spring where you’re from, darlin’—but Dunregan doesn’t acknowledge spring for at least another month. If you’re lucky.”

  “No matter how hard you try, you’re not going to convince me to see the downside of living here, Brodie.”

  “An eternal optimist, aren’t you?”

  It would’ve been so natural to reach out and tug her in close to him. Snuggle into the nook between her neck and the silky swoosh of hair cascading over her shoulder.

  “Something like that.” Kali’s green eyes flicked away for a second, then back to his. “Did your parents design this place?”

  “My mother. She was an architect and this was her third child. Her words, not mine,” he added hastily. He might have issues to spare, but no one had begrudged her the passion she’d had for their family home.

  “It’s really gorgeous.”

  Brodie stuck his head into the refrigerator, making a show of rifling through the cluster of packets to see what would go together. He could hardly bear to think of all the buildings his mother would have designed if she’d lived.

  “Guess I forget to stop and appreciate it,” he mumbled from the refrigerator, not believing his own words for a second.

  He missed her every single day. Had never understood why his father and brother hadn’t turned on him after her death. Logic dictated that squalls were tempestuous things. Sometimes one side of the island would see the crueler side of Mother Nature whilst the other side carried on none the wiser. But he knew she wouldn’t have been out there at all if it hadn’t been for him.

  Being here, living in this house, was a penance of sorts. One he’d be doing for the rest of his days, no matter where he was. Being on Dunregan in the family home minus the family just made it more...acute.

  He pulled a couple of things out of the refrigerator and followed Kali’s gaze.

  “She did all this herself?”

  “Not entirely. It is the interwoven dreamchild of my architect mother and the beautiful craftsmanship of my never-met-a-tool-I-didn’t-like father.”

  “Did the skill base skip a generation?” Kali teased gently.

  “Just a child. Callum got the handy genes,” Brodie conceded, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at the house afresh.

  Having Kali here gave him an unexpected bolstering of strength. The ability to see his family from a loving perspective rather than one tainted with the guilt and sorrow he’d hauled around all these years. It also brought back the unexpected intimacy he’d felt on That Night at the pub. As if he’d opened another door to himself he would normally have kept locked tight.

  What was it he’d felt?

  Kismet.

  Just as his parents’ relationship had been. Predestined. Two like-minded souls bucking staid ways and setting new trends on their beloved Dunregan.

  At least his mother had seen the house finished. Lived in it three years with her “flock of boys,” as she’d called them all.

  And his father! The iron rod of strength in that man was unparalleled. Only heaven knew how he’d done it, but his father had treasured that house, and his sons, every hour he’d lived. A testament to his love for his wife and family.

  “Right!” Brodie clapped his hands together and surveyed the pile of food on the kitchen counter for a moment. Enough memory lane. Time to focus on the present. “How do you feel about chicken stroganoff?”

  “Never heard of it,” Kali replied, accepting the bundle of vegetables Brodie was handing her.

  “That’s because...we are going to invent it.” He flashed her a smile. “If it’s really good we could always call it Chicken à la O’McClellan?”

  * * *

  What a difference an hour made! Between the music blaring away on the stereo, the food sizzling on the stove-top and the quips they were slinging at each other, Kali felt as if she’d entered an alternative universe. Or maybe the house was enchanted. Being here with Brodie felt like...home.

  She tried to squelch the thought instantly, for fear of jinxing it.

  “Turn it up!” Brodie called from across the broad flagstone kitchen.

  “I just did!” she shouted above the already-blaring pop tune.

  “Even more! I love this song!” he called, hands either side of his mouth, his voice barely audible above the volume. “Let’s dance!”

  He jumped and twisted his way into the middle of the room and let loose. Arms flying in the air, hair taking flight with his accelerated movements, his face a picture of pure abandon.

  Kali didn’t need to be asked twice. How often had she let herself just...be.

  She started slowly at first. Hips taking on the beat of the music, eyes closing as she let her practical self float away while her body tuned in to the rhythm. She began to lose track of time and place. It was an old pop song. One that had been popular when she was a teenager, living at home with her mum, dad and sister. When trust had been a given and fear something other people felt. It said nothing but happy to her.

  She raised her hands above her head and began to twirl as her arms took on a life of their own—obeying nothing but the rhythm of the song as it filled her, from head to toe, with joy.

  When she opened her eyes she felt Brodie’s eyes on her in an instant. There was a look in them she hadn’t seen before and she let herself be drawn in by the magnetism of the bright blue. They danced and whooped and by some sort of silent agreement their movements became more synchronized. The sway of their hips matched each other’s, their breath was coming in deep, energized huffs.

  And then without either of them seeming to notice the music changed. Their movements changed with it. Slow, sensual, instinctive. Brodie was close now. Incredibly close. She looked up into his face, felt their shoulders still gently swaying back and forth, back and forth, in a cadence that almost demanded intimacy.

  He slipped his broad hands onto her hips and tugged her in, closer to him. “May I have this dance?”

  His eyes were a bright blue, lit up by an accelerated heart rate and—she was sure of it now—a mutual attraction.

  A shower of untethered electricity lit up parts of Kali she hadn’t known existed. Her breasts were hyperaware of the satin and lace of her bra. The soft swoosh of skin just below her belly button could feel where the lace lining of her panties shifted and smoothed against her skin—almost as if Bro
die was tracing his finger just out of reach of her most sensitive areas.

  She felt one of his hands slide up her back as the other sought to weave his fingers through hers, then held her close enough to his chest that she could feel his heart beat.

  Everything about the moment felt forbidden. And inevitable. She could feel her hair shifting back and forth along her shoulders as Brodie’s hand swept down her back to her waist. The shift of his fingers over the curves between her breasts and hip elicited hypersensitive tingles, as if she were being lit up from within.

  If she had thought she knew what being touched by a man was like before, she knew for certain she had had no idea until now. Each infinitesimal movement of Brodie’s fingertips, hips, even his breath spoke to her very essence.

  He untangled their fingers and tipped her chin up as he lowered his lips to meet hers. Tentative at first. A near-chaste kiss. Then another. Longer, more inquisitive. His short beard was unbelievably soft. Kali’s fingers crept up to trace along his jawline as his hands cupped hers. Her lips parted, wanting more than anything to taste and explore his full lips.

  A soft moan passed between the pair of them—she had no idea where it had started or how it had finished—she was only capable of surrendering to the onslaught of sensations: on her skin, inside her belly, shifting and warming, further, deeper than she’d ever experienced. She felt delicate and protected in his arms. And utterly free to abandon herself to the erotic washes of heat and desire coursing through to her very core.

  Already her lips were feeling swollen. In one swift move she felt Brodie tuck his hands under her buttocks, pull her up to his waist and swing her round to the countertop. She couldn’t help it. She tipped her head back and out came a throaty, rich laugh she hardly recognized as her own.

  Brodie nuzzled into her exposed neck, kissing the length of it with the periodic flicker and tease of a nibble or lick. Kali felt empowered to give herself up to nothing other than feeling and responding, touching and being touched.

  Brodie’s fingers teased at the hem of her jumper, shifting past her singlet and touching bare skin. Never before had she understood the power of a single caress.

  As his hands slipped along her waist and on to her back she wove her fingers through his thick blond hair, tiny whimpers of pleasure escaping her throat as his thumbs skidded along the sides of her breasts.

  “Are you okay with this?” Brodie’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

  “Very,” she managed. And she meant it. This was entirely mutual.

  He cupped her chin in one of his hands and drew a long, searching kiss from her.

  “Want to see the room I grew up in?”

  She managed a nod, her brain all but short-circuiting with desire.

  Brodie took her hand as she jumped off the countertop and, laughing, she reached out to turn off the stove with the other. Dinner could wait.

  Dinner would have to wait.

  Giggling like a couple of teenagers, they ran up the stairs. The music shifted as they took the steps in twos, this time to a gentle male voice lazily singing along to the simple melody of a guitar.

  “You’re sure you’re sure?” Brodie looked over his shoulder as they hit the landing. “It won’t be weird for you or anything? Working together?”

  “If we’d listed all the things that are weird about this we probably wouldn’t have kissed in the first place,” Kali replied, more for her own reassurance than Brodie’s.

  “That, my lovely, is a very good point.” He pulled her in close to him for another long, deeply intentioned kiss.

  My lovely.

  The words trilled down her spine. She couldn’t remember a single time when she’d been called lovely before. She’d had the odd med school romance, but nothing had stuck. No one had brought her to life in the way Brodie had. And for the next few hours at least she was his—all his. Gladly. Willingly. By choice.

  And it felt amazing.

  Kissing and touching and exploring, and with a frantic dispensing of winter clothes, they eventually made their way to a doorway flung open with grand finesse by Brodie, before he hooked a hand onto her thigh and tugged her legs up and around his waist again.

  “Mind your head,” he cautioned—unnecessarily, as she’d lowered her lips to taste his yet again.

  There was only a deep purple singlet and a lace-edged bra between them. Brodie’s shirt had disappeared somewhere between the bottom of the stairs and the top, and his body heat was beginning to transmit directly to Kali, stoking her hunger for more.

  * * *

  “What if I were to throw you on the bed and have my wicked way with you?” Brodie pulled back, eyes crackling with anticipation.

  “Go on, then,” she dared him, hardly believing the words were coming out of her own mouth as she spoke. “Finish what you started.”

  More tigress than tabby was right.

  The sexual tension igniting between the pair of them was the most intense thing Brodie had ever felt with a woman. He loved holding Kali’s petite body, feeling the weight of her thick hair on his hands as he spread his fingers across her back. If he’d ever thought her timorous, he was being set straight now. This was alpha with alpha. Each using their personal advantages to bring the other pleasure.

  He took one hand and shifted it lower, to cup one of her buttocks, and then half threw, half laid her upon his bed. Seeing her stretching to her full length as she hit the deep blue of his duvet, he felt another surge of desire.

  “Protection?” she asked softly, pulling her ebony hair into one hand and twisting it into a spiral.

  He stood, mesmerized, like a man who was seeing a goddess for the very first time. She looked up at him, eyes heavy lidded and sexier than ever. Definitely more tigress than tabby. With a fluid whoosh of her hands she fanned her hair out across her shoulders.

  “On it.” He turned to check his chest of drawers, then whipped around. “Don’t move...I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

  Kali blinked once, as if processing the thought, and then again, as though she’d made her decision. “What are you waiting for?”

  Socks flew everywhere as Brodie searched the top drawer for the little foil packets he vaguely remembered putting in there after he’d cut yet another relationship short. All he could think of right now was Kali, and giving her the most pleasure a woman could have. His fingers struck gold and he turned round with a flourish.

  Her beauty near enough sucker punched him. He was the moth and she was the flame. Her fingers were teasing at the spaghetti straps of her singlet.

  “Stay still,” he whispered, easing himself onto the bed beside her.

  He wanted to be the one to slip the fabric up and over her head. To tease the hooks away from her bra, freeing her breasts to his touch, his kisses. He wanted to give her a night of undiluted pleasure.

  Kali obliterated his moment’s hesitation as she wriggled close to him, rucking up the soft fabric of her top as she moved. Skin against skin. Lips exploring. The tip of her tongue slowly circling the dark circle of his nipple. Her fingers and his fought with his belt buckle and won. Each move, each discovery, only increased Brodie’s desire to be with her. Tenderly. Passionately.

  He rolled on top after yanking his trousers off, his forearms holding part of his weight above her soft-as-silk body as he sought her eyes for permission to continue. There was no question now of how much he wanted her. She must feel it, too, as she pressed and shifted against the length of his erection.

  A nod and a smile were all he needed. And exactly what he received.

  Slowly. He would take his time. This was a woman worth taking his time over, and he wasn’t going to risk missing a single square inch of Kali O’Shea.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CONTENT DIDN’T EVEN begin to cover how Kali felt. This was the s
ixth...no, the seventh day she and Brodie had decided her place was too cold to stay in and she had accidentally on purpose ended up in his bed. Sure, they were both being a little coy about it during “office hours”—but here in bed? Mmm... A whole new world of trust and intimacy had woven its invisible threads, linking them in a way she hadn’t imagined possible.

  She stretched like a cat, reveling in the contrast of her skin against Brodie’s body. She felt soft and pliable whilst he... Whoo! He was all muscle and strength. A spray of fireworks went off in her belly when she remembered their night together. If she had a trophy, she’d hand it to Brodie for his skills in the art of lovemaking. She had never, ever, in her limited romantic history, felt as amazing as she had with the man who had protectively held her in his arms all night long.

  “Is that you up?” Brodie murmured.

  She pushed herself up on her elbows and gave his cheek a kiss.

  “Yup! Rise and shine—we’ve got another big day of work ahead of us!”

  “Already?” Brodie put his arm around her shoulder and tugged her back in to nestle alongside him.

  Sweet monarch of the glen, that man smells good!

  “Guess we’d better get you fed and watered, then,” he murmured after a few minutes.

  “What? Like a horse?” She whinnied and asked for coffee in her best horse voice.

  “Is that how you win everyone over?” he intoned.

  “Something like that. You should hear my duck voice.”

  “Go on, then.”

  She asked for toast with butter in her duck voice. She’d used it countless times to entertain her little sister when she’d been in the toddler indefatigable “Again!” phase.

  Kali fought with the sobering fact that her sister would be a young woman now. Completely changed.

  The shard of reality all but shattered the undiluted joy she’d been feeling over the past week. Nights of old-fashioned fun and frisson with just about the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  Okay, fine. The most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.