Читать книгу The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance - Carol Marinelli, Amalie Berlin - Страница 18
ОглавлениеMIRA HAD DESERTED HIM.
With dinner behind them and the night closing in fast, Jack sat at the bar, wondering exactly how he’d gotten here. After the shock of the avalanche and subsequent rescue efforts had worn off, it would have been easy to just cancel their plans to eat at the restaurant and go back to their rooms. Alone.
And yet once they’d come off that slope and stood in the arched doorway of the lodge, the words had come out of his mouth of their own volition. “Are we still on for dinner?”
She hadn’t paused, even for a second, before saying yes.
Jack wasn’t sure why he wanted it so badly, but he did. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to be by himself. Seeing that person’s death earlier today had shaken him. Would someone grieve for the victim the way he’d grieved for Paula?
He ordered his first drink of the trip—other than that spiked hot chocolate—from the bartender and took a healthy swallow.
His wife had helped so many people. Worked tirelessly for her young patients, even when hope had seemingly been lost, to make sure they’d been cared for and comfortable all the way to the end. And he’d taken that away from her—had taken it away from those she could have helped in the future. She had been brilliant in her field. One of the best. And now she was gone.
All because he’d wanted to play doctor with a damn sports team. Lining up their specialties side by side, he’d known which one gave more value to mankind. But none of that had mattered at the time. Because he’d wanted that job. Had wanted it badly. And now none of it meant anything.
He’d seen that same special spark that Paula had possessed in Mira today. She’d been up on that mountain when the avalanche had hit. No one had known if that snow was going to shift again or not. She could have simply called in the rescue teams and waited for them to get the survivors out before she’d begun treatment.
But she hadn’t. She’d been one of the first on the scene, digging right alongside the relatives and friends of the victims. And the way she’d run toward him and that rescue worker, fire in her eyes as she’d yelled at them to pull the last man out of the snow, saying there was still hope.
Something his wife had said constantly. There’s always hope.
Until, of course, there wasn’t. Until a plane—a plane Jack had asked her to be on—had gone down in a ball of fire. Until hope had been snuffed out by reality.
Just like in Mira’s eyes when she’d looked into that hole in the snow and seen the truth. That there had been no hope.
His brain headed down familiar dark paths. He took another sip of his drink. Relished the steady burn of the alcohol as it trickled down his throat and hit his gut.
Dinner had been good, helping him relax and forget all the reasons he should be avoiding Mira like the plague. She’d made him smile time and time again, her animated expressions changing with each subject. She was passionate and beautiful, and he’d decided he could watch her talk all evening.
Only now she was on the other side of the room, talking just as passionately to her friend, the blonde.
Ellory, wasn’t it?
An argument? No, he didn’t think so. It looked more like Mira was trying to get the other woman to agree with her, palms facing up, their faces close together. In fact, it resembled some of the huddles he’d seen during games, when players had planned their next move.
Except this was hardly a play on a football field.
Break! A quick hug and a smile and then they were done.
Sometime during dinner, as he’d watched her laugh, he’d had some very bad thoughts. He’d entertained them all the way up to the last few minutes when guilt had wormed its way through him, devouring everything in its path. It happened every time he let his guard down.
Mira glanced his way and her shoulders went back, as if she’d come to some kind of decision.
What the hell?
As quickly as she’d left she was back, standing in front of him, hands on her hips, eyes on his face.
“What?” he asked, setting his glass on the bar.
“Nothing.” She stopped for a second and cleared her throat. “Just seeing if I can get up the nerve.”
“The nerve to...?”
“Ask you if you want to get out of here.”
The words were so unexpected they shoved the breath from his chest. He sat on his barstool like a lump for several seconds. Had he just walked into an alternate universe? One where his wildest imaginings suddenly became reality?
Whatever universe it was, his body decided it much preferred this one to the one he’d just been in, reacting to the innuendo with a slow unfurling of a certain flag.
He decided to make sure he wasn’t mistaken before he let his thoughts run any further ahead.
“Get out of here and go where?”
“Your room. My room. Take your pick.” She looked closer at his face, her brows puckering. “Unless you don’t want to.”
Nothing plainer than that. In fact, the man sitting on the next barstool looked at her so quickly that his head nearly flew off his neck. And the expression on his face? Hey, buddy, if you’re not going to take her up on it, then clear out.
Like hell!
“My room.” Better stick to his own territory. Only...
Damn. He hadn’t brought anything with him. This whole vacation had been taken under duress, he certainly hadn’t expected to have a woman invite him back to her room.
The guy on the barstool was still ogling Mira from behind. Jack sent him a scowl that told him to back off in no uncertain terms. Then he threw some bills onto the bar, got off his seat, and grabbed Mira by the hand. In the distance, her friend watched them.
So what?
He got as far as the hallway and then glanced down the length of the space to make sure they were alone. Then he moved in. Close. Chest to her breasts with just enough pressure to send a jolt of desire arcing through his gut.
His cheek slid along hers, scooping up her scent—vanilla and snow—and absorbing the soft feel of her skin. He journeyed toward her ear. Arrived.
“Now, see, Mira, you have me at a disadvantage. I want nothing more than to drag you back to my room, but unless your gift shop carries...certain items...”
“I have no idea, but it doesn’t matter.” Her head went back, and she stared at him for a second. “Ellory thinks I need to sleep with you. Get whatever...” she motioned between the two of them “...this is out of my system.”
Ellory. The friend.
So he wasn’t the only one who’d felt the sparks. Who’d experienced the chemical heat that sizzled any time they were together. “So, am I ‘in’ your system?”
“Definitely. She thinks it’s why I can’t move...” She shook her head. “I don’t normally do flings, but I think I want to make an exception in your case. So if you’re clean, I’m on the Pill.”
On the Pill.
Because she’d been sleeping with that oaf of a ski instructor?
Not fair, Jack.
Another thought came to him. “Are you trying to make your ex jealous?”
He couldn’t say for a certainty he would refuse to go with her, even if that were the case. He’d wanted this woman ever since she’d stood over him in the snow and offered him her hand.
Why? Why now?
He had no idea, unless it was because he was out of his comfort zone—away from his team. Maybe he was just tired of wallowing in a vat of grief and self-pity. Paula would be horrified to see what he’d become.
Mira shook her head. “My ex will remain my ex for evermore. But if you’re trying to get me out of the mood, it’s working.”
She started to slide out from beneath his body, and instinct had his hands going to the wall on either side of her, caging her in. “Sorry. Yes, I’m clean. And if you’re looking for a fling, I’m your man.” His lips found her jaw and skated along it. “I have to warn you, though. I wasn’t expecting company, so my room might be a mess.”
Tilting her head back as he made his way down the side of her neck, she murmured. “If you think I’m interested in looking at your...room, you’re very much mistaken.”
Part of his anatomy went haywire at the image of her reclining on his bed looking him over and putting her own special seal of approval on him. “I think I can find other things to occupy your thoughts.”
She relaxed. “Think so?”
“Pretty sure.”
He forced himself to stand upright, although all he wanted to do was take her mouth and make it his. But he could wait. He would wait.
Wrapping his fingers around her hand again, he started down the hallway toward the elevators. “Do you have to check on any of those patients from the avalanche?”
“They’ve all been taken to the hospital. The staff has my cell number, if they need to get in touch with me.”
He got into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor. Mira’s eyes widened. “You’re in one of the penthouse suites?”
“My coach, remember? I didn’t book the room.”
She leaned against the wall. “Your coach has good taste. And a hefty bankroll.”
He snagged her hips and dragged her against him. “They spared no expense.”
“They must like you an awful lot,” she murmured, looping her arms around his neck.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his coach, or how much they were or weren’t willing to fork out to get him back up to snuff. “And what about you? Do you like me?”
A shadow went through her eyes before it was gone. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”
At least they both knew where the other stood. Jack didn’t have to worry about Mira getting hung up on him or deciding she wanted to take things to the next level, because he couldn’t. Not now. Probably not ever. She wanted a fling. And he’d been thinking that it had been too long since he’d been with a woman. They were both on the same page. And after tonight they could turn that page and never revisit it.
* * *
Mira waited outside the door as Jack slid his keycard into the lock and listened for the familiar snick as it released. She’d been in these rooms before, of course, but never as a guest. She’d forgotten that pro football players made millions of dollars a year. But even if she’d remembered, she wouldn’t have expected Jack to make as much.
Besides, after her talk with Ellory—where Mira had grilled her about whether or not she’d told Robert about their bet—she’d wondered if her friend was right. Whether a naughty romp with the man in question would solve her problems once and for all—or if that was a plan doomed to fail. She was attracted to Jack. Very attracted. Which is why she couldn’t quite move on to the next guy.
So, Ellory’s answer? Sleep with the man. Kind of a wash-that-man-right-out-of-your-hair move that would clear him from her system. It had worked for Ellory in the past, so it should be just as easy for her.
Jack pushed the door open, and she stepped into the large marble foyer. While the downstairs portion of the lodge was a study in rustic furnishings, this room went in the other direction, its sleek, modern touches hinting at wealth rather than shouting it from the rooftops. From the white plush carpet to the glimmering stainless-steel accents, the room reflected the snowy setting outside.
He shoved the door shut with his foot. “I thought you weren’t interested in my room.” The words had a smile behind them, but she jerked around to look at him anyway.
“I’d forgotten how nice the penthouse suites were.” Where was that mess he’d mentioned? The room seemed as clean as a whistle.
He glanced around. “They are nice.” Motioning toward the tiled wet bar on the other side of the living room, he asked, “Do you want a drink?”
Yes. She did. And now that she was here she was beginning to wonder what she was thinking. She couldn’t believe she’d actually propositioned the man, something she’d never done in her life. But she hadn’t been able to think of a way to casually head him in this direction, and she had no desire to hang around the bar, hoping he’d make a move. So she’d decided to pull an Ellory and take the bull by the horns.
And now that she had him? What exactly did she do with him? Tell him to strip naked and get to work?
A drink. She’d start with that. “I’d love one. Red wine, if there’s one of those mini-bottles somewhere around.”
“I’m afraid this room doesn’t have a mini-anything. It’s all big.”
He was right on that front. Her eyes went to the man as he walked toward the bar. The room was huge, but Jack’s height and frame made it seem almost ordinary. And that butt she’d admired a week ago...
She swallowed, changing her mind about the wine. “Jack?”
“Mmm?” He walked behind the bar and retrieved two glasses from a stand beside the sink.
“Would you mind if I skipped the drink?” She twisted her hands in front of her, wishing she was better at this whole seduction gig.
He set the glasses down, and brown eyes bored into hers. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He leaned his elbows on the polished wood surface. “Come here.”
On legs that were suddenly shaking she made her way toward him, until she was on the other side of the counter. He crooked his finger. “Closer.”
She licked her lips then leaned over the surface until she was within inches of him.
“Nice.” One of his hands came up to cup the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair. He tugged her nearer until they were mouth to mouth. “Is this more along the lines of what you were thinking?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” His mouth met hers with a sweet pressure that made her want to melt against him, made her wonder if she could leap across the barrier and grab handfuls of his shirt and haul him against her. But she didn’t act on any of those thoughts. She stood there, leaning as close as she could get while his lips slid over hers time and time again. His teeth played with her lower lip, teasing it, until all she wanted was him hard against them, thrusting into her mouth like he’d done on the sleigh ride. Only tonight there was no Norm or Patsy to catch them in the act. It was just her and Jack. And this time she had no intention of stopping.
Her hands went up and caught his head when he started to move away from her mouth.
Uh-uh. That hadn’t been nearly enough. She wanted him right there.
She eased him back to her mouth, and this time she opened, hoping to tempt him into sticking around for a while. With a low sound his hand tightened in her hair and the kiss morphed into something else. Harder. More demanding. His tongue pushed past her lips with a quick thrust that made her gasp. He filled her, head turning sideways so he could reach even deeper.
A moan worked its way up from inside her as he released the pressure, only to surge forward again. When he finally lifted his head she dragged in deep breaths, trying to clear her fuzzy brain.
“You’re still too far away,” he murmured. Taking her hand, he led her around the bar until she was at the spot he’d been standing seconds earlier. “Better.”
He proceeded to drug her with several long, wet kisses that had her insides quivering with need. His hands slid down her sides, until he came to her waist, which he gripped. “When I say three, jump.”
Her breathing still erratic, she somehow managed to spring up when he hit the number, finding herself perched on the glossy wood bar, looking down at him. When she frowned, wondering what he was doing, he backed up with a smile and then yanked his dark shirt up and over his head.
Ooh, she liked that. Her glance skated over his bare torso. Strong and muscular without being bulky, his tanned skin had obviously been kissed many times by the sun.
Surfer dude...football doc. That’s right.
A smattering of dark hair started at his chest and flowed downward, narrowing until it was just a slim, fascinating line that disappeared beneath the waistband of snug black jeans. When her eyes finally came back up, she found him watching her. Her teeth gnawed her bottom lip when he came forward, his warm palms landing on her thighs just above her knees and slowly smoothing along the surface of her legs. Her mouth went dry the higher he got, his thumbs grazing the sensitive area just inside her thighs.
Oh, man.
Then his hands were on her hips, and he jerked her forward until she was balanced on the very edge of the high bar, her thighs parting on either side of his chest. She felt open and exposed and the slow smile he gave her said that’s exactly how he wanted her.
“Remind me to thank whoever put this bar in my room.”
Since that was probably her dad, there was no way she was reminding him of anything.
He moved deeper between her legs and leaned over to plant a kiss on her stomach, sliding his hands beneath her shirt and pushing it up, until his lips grazed bare skin rather than her white tee shirt. His tongue dragged up her stomach, her muscles rippling in the wake of his touch.
Almost against her will, her eyes fluttered closed and her fingers went to his shoulders as he continued to kiss his way across her belly. When he reached the hip that lay just above the top edge of her jeans, he nipped at the bone, sending a quiver of electricity arcing right down to the parting of her legs. She ached for some type of pressure, but there was only air between her and his chest with no way of inching any closer. Not unless she wanted to fall off the bar. And there was no way she wanted to distract him from his current task.
His fingers went to the button on her jeans and had it open within a second, the zipper following soon afterwards. For once she was glad she’d put on feminine lacy panties and not her utilitarian black cotton undies.
As if reading her thoughts, his growled “Nice” hit her ears, making her smile.
The smile disappeared when he looked up the length of her body. “I’m going to need your help for a second. You lift, and I’ll slide.”
Why that raised a decadent picture, she had no idea, but the image of her hips coming up while he slid home swamped her brain, making it difficult to obey his command.
Lift. He said lift.
Bracing her hands on either side of her hips, she lifted up while Jack tugged her jeans down her thighs and then her legs as she returned to her seated position.
His fingers trailed around the top band of elastic on her panties and slid under the lace ties at the sides. “I am going to enjoy undoing these. But first let’s take care of that shirt.”
He stepped back, making her frown.
What?
Wasn’t he going to help her with that as well? When his arms went over his chest she had her answer.
It was either put up or shut up. And she was definitely aiming for the “put up” side of the equation. As in...grabbing the bottom of her shirt, raising her arms and dragging it over her head. She then let it drop onto the floor behind the bar.
Her bra matched her panties, both peek-a-boo pieces of lingerie that did a whole lot more peeking than anything else. She found her courage from somewhere. “Bra?”
“Not yet.” Stepping forward again, he planted his hands on her knees and slowly pushed them apart until he was back between them.
Too late, she realized what he was planning when his lips pressed against the skin of her rib cage, just below her bra, and moved on a slowly winding path that headed south. He reached her belly button, dipping inside for a second, then the tip of his tongue toyed with the upper edge of her panties.
“Jack.”
Plea? Or protest?
She wasn’t sure. Only knew that he’d finagled things so she couldn’t clamp her legs closed, and all the parts that mattered were well aware of that fact, pulsing with a heavy need she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
His fingers came up and found the ends of the ties on either side of her underwear. “Do you want me to stop?”
If she said yes, it would be all over. He hadn’t said it, but she knew herself well enough to know it was true. She’d be too embarrassed to continue. And in truth she didn’t want him to quit. Wanted him to show her exactly what he wanted from her.
And she had a feeling she wouldn’t be sorry.
“No. Please, don’t stop.”
His eyes closed for a beat or two, hiding those gorgeous brown irises. Then they opened back up. “I’m going to make you say those words again in a very short while.”
She gulped as a wave of awareness swamped her just as he tugged those ties and released the knots. Her underwear fell away, the front and back panels dropping to the bar. Jack wrapped his arms around her butt and pulled her hard against his chest, until that center part connected with his bare skin.
“Ah.” She wanted nothing more than to grind against him in a frenzy but, as suddenly as he’d made contact, he pulled away again, the cool air flowing against her and making her squirm with need.
Lord. What was he doing to her?
“Take me to the bedroom.” She was more than ready to have him right there, inside her, giving her the relief her body was starving for.
He kissed her stomach. “Soon.” The warmth of his breath rolled across her skin. “Do you remember what I said up on that mountain?”
He wanted her to remember...words? At a time like this? With the heat his body was putting out? “No.”
His hands were back at the tops of her thighs, thumbs pressing just enough to let her know he was there. “That’s a shame. Because this would be such a great demonstration of that gentleman’s rule.”
Ladies first. That’s what he’d said.
As his lips lowered to the top of her right thigh and kissed it, a shudder rolled across her. “That’s not necessary. Let’s just go to bed. I—I want to.”
“Oh, sweetheart. So do I. More than you can possibly know.” He kissed the inner surface, teeth nipping at the tender flesh. “But I can’t. Not yet.”
He pushed her legs wider as his lips ventured closer to a very dangerous area. “Intoxicating. Your scent. The taste of your skin.” The words muttered against her sent fire rushing through her veins and anticipation clenching through her stomach. Then he was there, and the shock of his tongue making gentle inroads made her go completely still. She had to prop herself up on her elbows to keep from falling backwards at the rush of sensation as he slid up and around, avoiding that one tiny part that craved his attention more than anything.
“Please. Jack. Oh, God.”
He pulled her closer, until everything came into contact with his mouth all at once and her legs draped over his shoulders as he finally gave her what she wanted. Her back arched, and she couldn’t stop herself from using the soles of her feet to push closer to that incredible source of pleasure. He didn’t disappoint, his lips surrounding her and sucking gently—tongue rubbing against her.
That was all it took. She grabbed a breath and then let go with a loud moan, pumping herself against him as her body flashed red-hot, the lights in the room fading to almost nothing. Again and again her inner walls clamped, finding nothing to grab onto, and yet the ecstasy was still stronger than anything she’d experienced in her life.
She lay there for a few seconds, mouth open, eyes closed, her lungs snatching for air and still feeling deprived.
When random thoughts finally started trickling back into her brain, she was stunned. Winded. Unnerved. Then she looked down to find his eyes on her, his mouth still poised between her legs.
She couldn’t believe she’d let him do that to her. On a hotel-room bar, of all things. But she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
“You’re bad,” she said, unable to come up with a more sophisticated expression at the moment. “Very, very bad.”
He laughed and stood, reaching behind her—to help her down, she thought. She was wrong. Snap went the clasp on her bra, and he eased her upright, removing the garment before he finally gave her a response.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea just how bad I can be.”
