by Amy Andrews
The sadness in his eyes drew her like a magnet. They called to her. She wanted to erase his pain and help him forget the last few hours. Every part of her knew she shouldn’t, but he was hurting and he needed her.
His lips touched hers and she sighed into him. The potent need evident in his kiss forced a moan from deep inside her.
‘I need you tonight, Claire. Don’t leave.’
The rawness of his request as he cradled her face couldn’t be denied. She knew what it felt like to need someone to seek solace in. She stood and followed him to his bedroom.
Their love-making was different this time. The frantic, desperate, bordering-on-obsessive need to mate had lessened. Campbell felt as if they were making love underwater. Slow and languorous, their touch unhurried. More explorative than explosive.
When he entered her she gasped his name and clutched him to her. He revelled in the feeling of connection. He wanted to stay inside her for ever. At least here, sheathed inside her, he finally felt close to her. In the world outside this bed, she never let him close enough.
He moved slowly inside her. She moaned and he felt her tighten around him. He pulled out a little and slowly re-entered. The slightest of movements, the most erotic pressure. Three more agonisingly slow pulses and Campbell could feel his orgasm build. At the same time Claire was raking her nails down his back as she spasmed around him.
The contractions of her climax pushed him over the brink. Then he collapsed on top of her, waiting until their breathing had settled before rolling onto his back.
They lay staring at the ceiling for a few moments. Claire felt her eyelids growing heavy again as post-coital malaise invaded her bones.
‘Claire …’
‘Shh,’ she whispered, turning to rest her head against his shoulder. ‘Don’t talk. Just sleep.’
* * *
Claire woke a couple of hours later. She was alone. Alone with the realisation that she’d done it again. Slept with Campbell after she’d told him it wasn’t going to happen.
But lying there with only her thoughts for company she could finally be honest with herself. She’d wanted it to happen. Friday night, last night and for many more nights. She was attracted to him, even more so now she’d seen his vulnerable side. She could fight it or she could run with it and finally have a bit of fun in her life.
She turned on her side, smoothing his pillow and wishing he were there beside her. Would he agree to be her lover? She couldn’t do long term. Would he agree to that? One thing was for sure, there would be no misunderstandings this time. A relationship was possible on her terms only.
Her stomach grumbled and Claire realised she hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours. She rose and groped around in the dark for something to wear. She found the light to the en suite and squinted at the insult to her pupils. A fluffy navy gown hung on a hook near the bath. She slipped into it and was immediately surrounded by soap and aftershave. Very manly.
Leaving the bedroom, Claire went in search of Campbell. They needed to talk and she was starving. She found him sipping a glass of wine on the balcony. A toasted sandwich was in the process of being devoured.
She reached over his shoulder and grabbed one of the cut portions. She sat down opposite him, devouring it instantly.
‘Hello, sleepyhead.’ He smiled.
‘I’m so sorry I fell asleep, Campbell. I should have tried to stay awake. Some support I was!’
He pushed the plate towards her, offering her the last piece. She grabbed it before he could change his mind.
‘You helped more than you can know.’ Silence stretched between them. ‘I’ll make you another, shall I?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Drink? Wine?’
‘Coffee would be nice,’ she said, swallowing the last bite.
He rose to go, the light from the lounge framing him. He was dressed in cotton boxers, similar to the ones he’d ripped off her earlier, that clung to his muscular thighs. His unbuttoned shirt flapped in the light breeze, revealing his hard stomach and smooth chest. He truly was magnificent.
Soon the aroma of brewing coffee and toasting bread intruded on Claire’s thoughts. Her stomach growled in response and she was most grateful when he plonked a plate of toasted sandwiches in front of her. They ate in silence until the plate was empty.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, and she nodded.
‘You first,’ she invited.
‘If tonight has taught me one thing, Claire, it’s that life is short. Whether you want to admit it or not, there’s something between us that can’t be ignored.’ Campbell wanted to tell her he loved her, but couldn’t bear to make his day worse should she reject him. ‘I think we should explore it, see what happens.’
‘I agree.’
‘You do?’ Campbell should have been ecstatic but he was suspicious. It was too easy. ‘You mean you want to do more of this?’ Campbell hardly dared to breathe lest she change her mind. He couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. She’d just done a complete about-face.
‘Yes.’ Claire smiled at Campbell’s doubtful expression.
‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ Campbell needed to understand her motives. It still seemed too easy.
‘Isn’t it a woman’s prerogative?’
‘Apparently.’
Claire sighed. ‘I don’t know, Campbell. I only decided just now and I’m making it up as I go along. All I know is that you make me feel good and we’re amazing in bed. And I don’t want to give that up yet.’
‘Yet? Does that mean that a time will come when you will give it up?’
‘Yes.’
Campbell pushed back his chair and wandered over to the rail, gazing out over the river. He wanted for ever. Not just for now, or for as long as she wanted. Could he have the kind of relationship she was describing, waiting each day for the axe to fall?
‘There’s more,’ she said, and he gripped the railing tight. ‘Some ground rules. No L-word. No marriage proposals. No cohabitation.’
‘What’s left?’ His voice held a bitter edge as he braced himself for her answer. Her cool dismissal of the things he wanted most wounded like barbs tearing his flesh.
‘Sex and laughter and fun. Good times, Campbell. I don’t know how long for. Let’s just take each day as it comes. Oh … and another thing. You have to promise to let me go when the times comes.’
Claire felt dreadful, talking in such a detached manner. But she was trying to be honest. She had to lay her cards on the table now so he knew exactly where he stood. She didn’t want to start this thing under false pretences. Well, not too many anyway.
She knew she couldn’t have for ever with Campbell—she wouldn’t inflict that on anyone. But being with him had been so amazing. As long as they kept their relationship in perspective as a temporary distraction, they could have amazing for a bit longer. Maybe a lot longer.
Campbell was torn. This was a man’s dream come true. A relationship based entirely on sex and good times, with no fear of commitment. Before he’d met Claire, it was the kind of situation he would have jumped at.
Except now he wanted all the things she didn’t. Could he promise to watch her walk away? To just let her go? Why was she so determined to avoid committing herself? Why? Why? Why?
‘Why?’ he spun around, facing her. ‘Why the rules? What are you so afraid of?’
‘Don’t ask me why. I won’t tell you. My reasons are my reasons. You’re just going to have to accept that I have them.’
‘Are they good?’
‘Yes.’
He eyed her seriously. Claire could tell he was weighing up his options. His fringe flopped down in his eyes and the breeze lifted his shirt flaps aside, revealing tantalising glimpses of his firm torso.
Claire felt desperation invade her body. Now she’d made up her mind she wanted him to agree very badly. His silence was making her nervous. Worse, she was convinced he was going to turn her down as each silent second dragged on. She had to do something
to convince him. She’d never wanted anything this much.
‘What do you say, Campbell?’ Her voice trembled as she began to untie the belt of her robe, desperation making her bold. ‘Do you want me? Want this?’ she parted the robe until he could see her nakedness. ‘Even if it’s only for a little while? Or do we call it quits now?’
Campbell’s hungry gaze devoured her body. His response was instantaneous and unable to be hidden in his clinging cotton boxers. He watched her triumphant smile, and he should have resented her for it but he wanted to take her so badly now he couldn’t think straight.
He wanted to yank her up off the chair, push her against the bricks and have her against the wall. He wanted to teach her she shouldn’t tease, and punish her for closing herself off to his love.
‘Claire.’ His voice was low and husky. ‘That’s not playing fair.’
‘Say yes, Campbell. You know you want to.’
‘You think you can sway me with your body. You think I can’t resist you?’
She could see he was angry. He looked brooding and dangerous, and strangely enough it was really turning her on. Her breathing was ragged and her blood roared in her ears. ‘Why do you even want to?’
He stalked over to her chair, pulling her up into his arms, grinding her against his straining erection. He was breathing heavily, his hooded eyes piercing her with rabid lust and intense dislike. She accepted the punishing force of his mouth on hers, matching his onslaught.
They pulled apart, chests heaving. Campbell yanked the robe down and off her arms until she was completely naked in his arms. Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.
‘Not fair,’ he muttered with a brief bruising kiss. And then he picked her up. Striding into the lounge room, he threw her on the couch. He tore his clothes off, joining her on the narrow space, entering her immediately, his kiss silencing her cry of exultation.
He was so riled and so turned on it was hard to know where one emotion started and the other ended. He wanted to punish her for hurting him. He wanted her to feel his pain. He wanted to brand her so she belonged to him, despite what she thought.
Claire welcomed each thrust greedily. She lifted her hips to take him deeper, welcoming the pounding and cried his name as his mouth fastened roughly on her nipple. He sucked hard and grazed his teeth against it until she was ready to faint from the pleasure.
‘Look at me!’ he demanded.
Claire opened her eyes. Their gazes locked and held even as Campbell’s increased pounding rocked her head back and forth. She bit her lip and cried his name as her release swamped her. She fought the natural urge to shut her eyes, wanting Campbell to witness her ecstasy.
Campbell’s eyes widened at the wild abandon in hers. It was enough to take him right over the edge. He too fought the urge to close his eyes as his body shuddered and released inside her. He kept them open, sharing the tumult of his orgasm as she had shared hers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT SEEMED to take an age for their breathing to return to normal. Campbell lay spent and collapsed on top of Claire, silently berating himself for letting her goad him into such an ardent response. He pushed away, sitting up on the lounge, gathering his wits.
‘You won’t regret it,’ Claire said breathlessly.
‘I already do,’ he said. Disgust filled his voice as he stalked over to where he had discarded his clothes and put on his underpants.
The smile slipped from her face. ‘Campbell?’
‘It’s no good. I can’t do it.’ He retrieved his robe and threw it at her.
‘Do what?’ she asked quietly, catching the robe.
‘Have a relationship with you on those terms.’
‘What? Sex without commitment?’ Claire laughed incredulously, belting the robe. ‘Most men I know would jump at the chance.’
‘I want more.’ His voice was quiet but emphatic.
Claire could feel him slipping away. She’d obviously underestimated his moral fortitude. Now she’d made up her mind, she didn’t want him to walk away, but it was important that she was clear with him.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t give you more.’ She took a step towards him but he held up his hands and she stopped.
‘I can’t live by your stupid rules.’
‘That’s just your pride talking,’ she stated, swallowing a lump.
‘No. It’s self-respect. You’ve led me a merry dance, Claire, but enough is enough. We either agree to an equal relationship on mutual terms or …’
‘Or what?’ she asked quietly.
‘We’re finished.’
Campbell left the room and stood in the cool night air on the deck. He clutched the railing, begging the fates to make her see sense. He was taking a gamble. He knew that. But for the first time she’d admitted to wanting a relationship with him—but did she want it as badly as he did?
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to let her toy with him any longer. Sure, being her plaything would, no doubt, be a thoroughly enjoyable and unforgettable experience, but he loved her and he needed her to give him more of an emotional investment. He’d rather lose her than be with her every day and not be able to tell her how he felt.
Anger and frustration and desperation chased around and around in his head and weighed heavily in his heart. What was taking her so long? The suspense was killing him. He was about to storm back inside and demand a response when he heard the front door open and then click shut. He had his answer.
* * *
Days came and went. Weeks passed. Claire hardly noticed. She felt as if she was living in a movie scene where the main character walked along obliviously as the scenery changed behind her, indicating the passage of time.
When she’d left Campbell’s apartment that fateful night, it had been with the decision not to look back. Dwelling on what had been or could have been was a recipe for disaster. They’d had some good times. She chose to think of them instead of what she was missing.
Ten years ago, when her mother had been first diagnosed, it would have been easy to fall apart and wallow in self-pity, but she’d chosen not to, focusing on her career instead. She’d decided right from the outset that she wasn’t going to let the disease define her, as her mother had done.
No way had she been going to sit around and wait for her genetic lottery ticket to come up. Life was there to be lived, so she’d lived it. She’d travelled and she’d back-packed and she’d nursed in remote locations and had steadily built a career to be proud of. Work had been her salvation. And so it was again.
Irritatingly, Claire found herself once more at the centre of St Jude’s rumour mill. She weathered the curious looks and the whispered conversations with polite silence and years of practice, despite its outrageous content. Give the grapevine a juicy titbit and the details, no matter how fanciful, were made up as it went along.
Claire contemplated posting a memo on the notice-board in the foyer, stating that nothing had happened between her and Campbell and that they were only colleagues. Anything to stop the Chinese whispers.
It was difficult enough just being in the same hospital as Campbell. St Jude’s was big, but it wasn’t that big. Inevitably they ran into each other. At those times they behaved professionally, treating each other with politeness and respect. It was formal and a little strained, but it worked.
They were very careful not to get too close. In fact, Claire was aware of Campbell actually physically distancing himself when necessity required them to be closer than a safe distance. Claire knew she should, too, but was amazed at the degree of difficulty of such a simple task.
Just as hard was having to talk to him about a patient or a related matter while her mind was elsewhere. Like in bed with him naked and inside her. It was cold comfort but Claire knew she had done the right thing. The only thing. He wanted long term and she could only give short term. As much as her body yearned for him, she was a time bomb he couldn’t handle.
And then there was the gossip about all the dating
he’d been doing. Apparently leopards didn’t change their spots, and Campbell had returned to his old ways.
Claire didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. After all, he was a free agent. Besides, she knew that listening to gossip or, worse, actually believing it was stupid. It had, no doubt, been blown completely out of proportion. However, the rumours persisted.
* * *
In an effort to scrub Claire from his mind, Campbell also threw himself into his work. Still, even one month on, it was difficult to forget when everywhere he went and everything he did at St Jude’s reminded him of Claire.
His ultimatum and her subsequent rejection still felt like a raw, gaping wound. His mind kept on replaying it like an old movie projector stuck in a rut.
He was moody and distracted and even snappy on a couple of occasions. It wasn’t anybody’s fault but he was taking it out on whoever was unfortunate enough to cross his path. It was so unlike him yet he didn’t seem to be able to stop.
His concentration was shot, particularly in the operating theatre, which made him annoyed. Consequently he was demanding and picky and ruining his status among the theatre staff who were already jaded from one too many prima donna surgeons.
Trying to distract himself with a bevy of beautiful, available women wasn’t working either. His heart and mind really weren’t in it, and that wasn’t fair to them. He made up his mind to cease all such behaviour forthwith! There was only one woman he wanted.
He just hadn’t bargained on how hard it would be to act normally around her. So hard, in fact, he avoided it like the plague. But when you worked in the same building and your professional lives crossed paths frequently, coming face to face was inevitable.
Campbell had to actually physically move back in her presence. She was too tempting when they were unavoidably thrown together. Her scent was so familiar to him, so addictive he had to suppress the urge to lean in and inhale along the curve of her neck where he knew she smelt the sweetest.