Читать книгу One Night That Changed Her Life - Emily Forbes - Страница 12

CHAPTER TWO

SHE LEANT AGAINST HIM, not trusting her legs to support her, as he led her to his room. He swiped the electronic key card over the door and held it open for her.

The room was a carbon copy of hers, with the exception of the bed. She was sharing with Sarah so their room had twin beds. Xavier had a room to himself, and a king-size bed that she intended to put to good use dominated the space.

She stepped inside and somehow managed to wait until he stepped in behind her and closed the door. She turned around and his mouth was instantly on hers. His hands at her back.

She wasn’t interested in talking. She didn’t want to know anything about him. She didn’t need to know anything about him. His voice was deep and velvety smooth and it did funny things to her insides but she didn’t need to hear it.

She parted her lips and his tongue delved deeper, exploring her, tasting her.

She pulled his shirt free from his trousers and undid the buttons, running her hands over his chest. The muscles were firm and warm under her fingers and dark hair covered his skin.

She could feel wetness pooling between her thighs. She pressed against him, wanting to feel the thickness of his erection, knowing she wouldn’t be disappointed.

She closed her eyes and the room started to spin. Just a little, just enough for her to recognise she’d had more to drink than she’d realised. Drunk and emotional. That wasn’t a good combination. But she wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t know exactly where she was and what she was doing, she thought as she felt his hand slide up under her dress. She opened her eyes as his hand cupped her buttock. He lifted her off her feet and continued to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He carried her to the bed. She knelt on the edge as he opened the bedside drawer and retrieved a little foil packet. He put it on the bedside table, watching her as he let it go. His intentions were clear and Brighde knew he was asking for her acquiescence. In reply she reached up and slid his jacket and shirt from his shoulders, letting them drop to the floor. She wasn’t changing her mind now.

He kicked off his shoes as she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. Finally, the belt came loose and she undid his trousers, letting him step out of them.

She swallowed as she looked at him standing before her. He pushed his boxer shorts off his hips and his erection sprang free.

He was even more impressive than she’d imagined. Thick and proud. He was glorious.

He reached for her again and she lifted her arms above her head as he whipped her dress from her body. She wasn’t wearing a bra; she was as naked as he was save for her knickers and heels.

She stood up, brushing her breasts across his chest, and watched in fascination as his chocolate-brown eyes darkened further.

She spun him around, pushing him lightly backwards, making him sit on the edge of the bed. She needed to control this.

She stepped out of her underwear and put her legs either side of his, straddling his thighs.

She pushed him gently again, forcing him to lie back, as she climbed onto the bed and sat across him.

She plucked the foil packet from the bedside table and tore it open, sheathing him and protecting herself.

She was in a hurry now. Foreplay had been dealt with at the bar and in the lift. Silent communication and agreement had got them this far and she was ready and eager for the satisfaction she anticipated.

She put one hand on each side of his head and lifted her hips as he guided himself inside her, filling her. She closed her eyes as she concentrated on the sensations swamping her. The thickness of his shaft, the slight stretch of the muscles in her inner thighs as she spread her legs wider to take him deeper inside her.

She leant forwards as she raised and lowered her hips, sliding up and down his length. She opened her eyes and watched as his lips parted, listened to his sigh of pleasure. His hooded eyes were darker now, even more intense. She felt his hands on her skin and then his breath as he lifted his head and took one breast into his mouth.

Brighde moaned as waves of pleasure consumed her and her body came to life.

His hands were on her bottom and she could feel each individual finger against her skin. He wasn’t controlling the pace though; his hands were just following her movements, following her rhythm and pace. She was setting the tone. She was in control.

She sat up and felt her nipple peak as the cool air replaced his warm mouth. She wanted to watch him as they made love. She wanted a chance to commit it all to memory.

She reached behind her back and down between his thighs. Her fingers searching. She cupped his balls in her hand; they were hard and tight and cool in her grasp. She rolled them in her hand before circling his shaft with her fingers, following its movement to feel it disappear inside her. Deep inside her.

Her knees were shaking but the muscles in her buttocks and between her thighs were tight. She was panting quickly now, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps almost as if she were forgetting to breathe. She didn’t have enough muscle control spare to focus on breathing.

She couldn’t wait much longer. She could feel the waves of an orgasm threatening to break over her.

His hands had moved to her hips now, keeping her in place. Not that she had any plans to go anywhere. Maybe he was just holding her up.

She could barely keep her eyes open. Every cell in her body was focused on pleasure and there was nothing left for the basics. Nothing left to spare on breathing or thinking.

Brighde let herself go, giving in to the burst of light that wanted to explode in her.

‘Now,’ she begged and she felt him shudder and heard herself cry out as they climaxed together.

She collapsed, exhausted, spent and fulfilled onto his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. She’d had a few one-night stands—she considered them her only practical option as she wasn’t willing to risk having a real relationship—but she couldn’t say she’d ever found them terribly satisfying and she definitely couldn’t ever remember one as immensely gratifying as tonight.

She wouldn’t mind repeating it, but that wasn’t in her rule book.

One night only. With single men. And only with men she knew she wouldn’t bump into at work or in the supermarket.

But Xavier was on holiday from Scotland. Maybe she could stretch it to twice. But she was leaving tomorrow. Going back to Melbourne and back to work. She only had one night so she’d have to take her second chance tonight and surely twice in one night didn’t count.

She lay with her head on his chest and her fingers splayed across his stomach and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear. She closed her eyes and let the silence drift over her.

* * *

She woke an hour later. The hotel room curtains were open and the city lights lit up the room. Xavier’s arm was draped over her shoulder and she slid out from under it, careful not to disturb him. She needed to go.

She ducked, naked, into the bathroom but when she returned to collect her clothes he was awake. He was lying on his back watching her. The covers were off and he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was ready and willing to make love again.

Brighde forgot all about getting dressed as she let him pull her back into bed.

But this time she took care not to fall asleep afterwards. She waited until he drifted off before she dressed and snuck out in the early hours of the morning.

There was no exchange of phone numbers or even last names. She didn’t know anything about him and that was the way she wanted it. She would never see him again. She felt a tiny twinge of disappointment but even though he was magnificent she wasn’t about to break her own rule.

She didn’t do weekends. She didn’t do relationships.

One night was enough.

There was no danger of falling in love in only one night.

* * *

Brighde changed into scrubs ready for another night shift. Her fifth straight. She was exhausted; the maternity wing had been really busy. That wasn’t unusual; Parkville Private Hospital had the largest private maternity service in Melbourne and they were always busy, but the past few shifts had been ridiculous. The nurses were blaming the full moon; there was no scientific evidence to back up their suspicions but years of experience had taught them that a full moon seemed to trigger labour, not only in the women who had reached full term but also for those who were overdue as well as for plenty who were a week or two away from their due dates. The department was bursting at the seams and Brighde was looking forward to a few days off at the end of this shift. Only eight hours to go.

She tied the laces on her sneakers and headed for handover, hoping that tonight would be quiet.

‘Brighde, you can take over from Jacqui. She’s got delivery room three.’ The charge nurse distributed the patients among the new staff.

‘I’ve got Kirsty Jones,’ Jacqui told her.

Brighde remembered Kirsty from prenatal appointments. ‘First baby, husband is Matt, right?’ she clarified.

Jacqui nodded. ‘She’s been in labour for about twelve hours and in active phase for a few hours now. Seven centimetres dilated, contractions four minutes apart. She probably hasn’t got long to go. Do you want me to stay until she delivers?’

It was common for the midwives to extend their shifts if they thought their patients were close to delivering. It made for good continuity of care and the mums appreciated having one midwife throughout. But it wasn’t always possible. Lots of babies took far longer than one shift to make their appearance.

‘Is there much else happening at the moment?’ Brighde asked, meaning, Are we likely to be run off our feet?

‘No.’

‘Go home, then,’ she told Jacqui. ‘I know Kirsty. I’ve got this.’

‘Thanks. I’ve called her doctor. He’s on his way. Dr Davey is on holidays and Dr O’Donnell, the new OB/GYN is covering for him.’ Jacqui was already untying her ponytail, getting ready to leave, as she gave Brighde the final information.

‘OK, all good.’

* * *

‘Kirsty, how are you?’ Brighde stepped into delivery room three and greeted Kirsty and her husband. Kirsty looked tired and Matt didn’t look as if he was faring much better. ‘We’ve had a shift change, it’s my turn now but you won’t have any more changes after this. I promise I’ll be here when your baby is born.’

‘You’d better be,’ Kirsty panted. ‘Your shifts are eight hours, right? If this baby isn’t out by then, I’m leaving.’

Brighde smiled.

‘What?’ Kirsty asked.

‘We hear that a lot at this stage, when you’ve had enough, that’s when we know you’re getting close.’

Kirsty grimaced as she was gripped by another contraction.

‘How are you doing, Matt?’ Brighde asked as she waited for Kirsty’s contraction to ease. This stage was hard on the partners; she knew he’d be feeling useless.

‘I’m okay but isn’t there anything to do to speed this up?’ he asked.

‘Sorry, not at this point. She’s very close. We’ve just got to let things take their course. Natural is best.’

Jacqui had attached a monitor to Kirsty’s abdomen to record the contractions and Brighde checked the readout. The contractions were now two minutes apart, lasting for around sixty seconds and getting stronger.

‘I’m just going to take a look to see how your labour is progressing,’ Brighde said as she pulled a pair of gloves on.

‘Eight centimetres. You’re getting there,’ she said. ‘You’re in the transition phase now. It won’t be much longer.’

‘We haven’t even seen the doctor,’ Matt said.

‘He’s on his way. There’s nothing for him to do yet. Trust me, you don’t want the doctor in early. If things are going well you don’t need him until the end.’

Kirsty’s labour seemed to be progressing as expected and Brighde thought they wouldn’t really need the doctor at all but she also knew that at Parkville Private the patients paid for, and expected to see, the doctor.

Kirsty cried out as another contraction took over. She was getting restless. ‘God, it hurts.’

‘If you think you can manage to get onto all fours that might ease the pressure on your back,’ Brighde told her. ‘Matt, you could run a flannel under hot water and give Kirsty’s back a rub.’ That would hopefully distract Kirsty, ease her discomfort and give Matt something useful to do. ‘You’ll meet your baby soon.’

Matt had followed her suggestion and returned from the en suite bathroom with a warm flannel. Brighde let him look after Kirsty while she checked the equipment, making sure she had everything she needed for the delivery at arm’s reach. As she worked she listened to Matt as he tried to reassure Kirsty. She could hear the love and affection in his voice, along with concern, and it made her wish that she had someone to share her life with. Someone who would love and support her. But she knew that would be asking a lot. She’d vowed long ago that she wouldn’t put someone through what she’d been through. She’d made a pact with herself that she would stay single. She wanted to be loved but she wouldn’t risk it.

Thinking about being in love led her to thinking about her brother. After all the pledges they’d made, the promise not to get tested, Nick had fallen in love with Imogen and everything had changed. The pact she and Nick had made years before, agreeing not to have genetic testing, had ended when Nick had fallen in love. He wanted to start a family and he needed answers. Brighde couldn’t blame him for that. But now she knew her decision to stay single and free was justified. She had watched her mother’s life disintegrate and she’d vowed not to put herself or loved ones in that same position. Which meant not allowing herself to fall in love. That was the only way to avoid the heartache. To avoid the risk. She had to stick to her plan. As much as she’d like to share her life with someone, she couldn’t commit to anything more than one night.

The last night she’d spent with someone had been with Xavier. She wondered how he was. Whether he was back in Scotland. Whether he ever thought about her. She couldn’t deny she’d been thinking about him. A lot. In the maternity suites she’d found herself comparing all the partners to Xavier. Wondering what he would be like in the same situation. Would he be the bossy, know-it-all expectant father who’d read all the books? Or would he be the kind, gentle, supportive partner who was only concerned about his wife. Not that it mattered. Her silent imaginings were a waste of time. Xavier was gone.

She had to stick to her plan and even if she wanted to change her mind Xavier wasn’t around. That boat had sailed. That was why she’d let her hormones carry her away that night. Because she’d known she’d never see him again. But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head, despite the fact that the night she’d spent with him was now almost eight weeks ago. She really needed to get him out of her system.

She’d expected the sex to be good—the sparks she’d felt between them had been too huge to ignore—but she hadn’t expected it to be the best sex of her life. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have better. Xavier might have become her new benchmark but that didn’t mean someone else out there couldn’t match up or even improve on him.

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe she just needed to have sex with someone else. She needed to erase the memory of him. Something about Xavier had got under her skin but she couldn’t afford to get fixated on someone she’d never see again. That had been the whole point. Anonymous sex was the only way to go. She didn’t get involved. She didn’t do relationships and she really didn’t have time to spend thinking about him. She needed to get this baby delivered, and however many others decided to be born tonight, and then she’d go home, get a good eight hours sleep and tomorrow she’d start to wipe all traces of Xavier from her mind. She’d go back to the old, independent Brighde. She didn’t need a man; she was fine.

She didn’t want a man she told herself as she prepared to check Kirsty’s progress again.

She was now nine centimetres dilated and Brighde could see the baby’s head. She wondered how far away the doctor was. If he wasn’t already here he was likely to miss the delivery altogether.

‘Almost there, Kirsty. You’re doing really well. Not long now.’ She stood and pulled off her gloves. ‘I’ll fetch the doctor.’

Brighde stepped out of the delivery room and was surprised to find Sarah just outside the door. She was working a late shift too but she was working in the nursery. Maybe she was collecting a baby. But she grabbed Brighde’s arm.

‘Good, I’m glad I found you.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ her friend said as she dragged her towards the nurses’ station.

‘What is it?’ Brighde had no idea what could be so urgent. ‘I’m in the middle of a delivery.’

‘I know,’ Sarah said, ‘but this is important. Dr O’Donnell—the doctor covering for Dr Davey—you’re looking for him, aren’t you?’

Brighde nodded.

‘That’s him.’ Sarah tilted her head to her left a few times in quick succession, nodding towards the nurses’ station.

Brighde frowned. ‘Who is?’

‘Dr O’Donnell. It’s him. From the conference.’

Brighde saw the back of a head. Her eyes took in the thick, dark, slightly curly hair. The tall, broad, masculine shoulders. Her stomach flipped as recognition slapped her. He wasn’t someone she knew from staff but he wasn’t a complete stranger either.

He turned, maybe a sixth sense alerting him to the fact he was being scrutinised, and their eyes locked.

Brighde took a deep breath and held it. The man she’d shared the best sex of her life with was standing six feet away.