Читать книгу Maitland Maternity: Triplets, Quads and Quints - Kasey Michaels - Страница 10

There were people waiting when the elevator door opened on her floor. Briana, who’d been enjoying the kiss as much as Hunter seemed to be, was grateful she didn’t know any of them.

“Uh, out, please.” She kept her eyes lowered. She didn’t want anyone, even strangers, to see the effect of Hunter’s kiss. Her lips still tingled and she felt a surprising desire to repeat their behavior.

Hunter followed her off the elevator.

“Your room is on this floor, too?” she asked in surprise and uneasiness. She needed distance to avoid doing something unwise.

“No, I’m escorting you to your room,” he assured her.

Always a gentleman.

“Look, Hunter, I know you must be exhausted. I certainly am. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

‘It’s kind of become a habit,” he said with a charming smile, “worrying about you.”

She dug her plastic key card out of her jeans pocket where she’d put it only a few hours ago, though it seemed like a lifetime. “This is my room,” she assured him as she stopped in front of a door and inserted the key card. The small light turned from red to green and she shoved the door open.

Hunter followed her in so that when she turned to thank him for his…whatever, he was there. And his arms were around her again. And he looked as if he was about to repeat the embrace they’d shared on the elevator.

It had been an incredible kiss, one she’d felt to her very toes. Unlike any she’d ever had before. But that was probably because they’d spent so much time together, really together.

She should stop him. But curiosity, wondering if it had really been that good a kiss, welcomed him. Her arms went around his neck, her body pressed against his. Her lips, when he touched them with his, leapt to mate with him.

Three or four kisses later, Hunter, breathing heavily, managed to say “Briana.”

She thought it was a good thing he could remember her name, because his kisses had scrambled her brain. All she could think about was him…and getting closer. It wasn’t like her to respond so completely to a man’s touch. But Hunter’s touch had a magical effect on her. “Hunter,” she murmured in response.

“Sweetheart,” he muttered, “I need you.”

Instead of bothering with words, she pulled him toward the bed. They fell on it with a sigh of relief and resumed kissing. He was the most incredible kisser.

Tuxedo studs went flying as Briana’s fingers went to work. It occurred to her that later she might regret such abandon, but it felt wonderful now. As more and more of his muscular chest, with blond hairs winding their way down it, came into view, the happier she became.

Each of them removed clothing piece by piece, exposing the other. But Briana never felt awkward or uncomfortable. She was too involved in what was going on. It seemed right that, after their night of togetherness, they should be completely together.

As a lover, Hunter was as gentlemanly and considerate as he’d been all night. But there was an edge of need that made her heart beat faster. He stroked and urged her closer, his mouth consuming hers. When he entered her, she felt completely loved and cradled, protected, until an urgency began that drove her even closer.

Then there was no conscious thought, just emotions, feelings, a consuming fire that left her exhausted yet sated. Hunter fell against her as he, too, reached the zenith of feelings. She held him close.

As she sank into a drifting state of sensations, he pushed up from the bed. “Did I hurt you, Bri? Are you all right?”

“I’m wonderful, Hunter, absolutely…wonderful.” She never opened her eyes. And that was the last she remembered.

HUNTER STARED DOWN at the beautiful face. It seemed most of the time he’d had with her, her eyes had been closed. But he remembered their hazel beauty. He remembered everything about her.

He’d never experienced such emotions, such sensations in making love before. It had never been so overpowering. Briana was clearly a special woman, but there’d been so little time. He truly hadn’t intended to make love to her when he’d followed her into the room. All he’d wanted was one more kiss. The kiss in the elevator had been so special, so…he couldn’t come up with another word to describe it.

His hand cupped her soft cheek as she slept. He didn’t want to leave her, but he needed a shower and clean clothes. If he changed now, while she slept, he’d be back before she even knew he was gone. Then he’d take her to breakfast.

They had a lot to discuss. He had no intention of letting her walk away with no plans for the future. She was his to protect, to love, to cherish. That much he knew. He thought she knew it, too.

They’d plan a future. They’d compromise. Somehow they’d find a way to be together. Because Briana…he suddenly realized he didn’t even know her last name. But he’d take care of that detail. Finally he’d found the one woman in the world who made his life complete. They’d find a way to be together.

After rubbing his lips over hers, he slid from the bed and searched for his clothing. He found everything but one of the studs for the tuxedo shirt. He smiled as he remembered Briana dispensing with them recklessly. He’d loved that about her. She was an enthusiastic lover, making him feel wanted, a great aphrodisiac.

Longingly, he stared once more at her sprawled under the sheet with which he’d covered her. As tired as he was, he wanted to make love to her all over again. And he suspected he’d feel that way the rest of his life.

He whispered, “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.” Then he left her hotel room to climb the flight of stairs at the end of the corridor. He was on the next floor. Not far away. He hurried, unable to stand being away from her any longer than he had to.

THE BUZZING of an alarm awakened Briana from a deep sleep. She flailed at the noise and found the snooze button, she supposed, because the noise stopped. She drifted back to sleep.

Five minutes later, the noise repeated itself. This time she opened her eyes, barely, and noted the time. Eight-o-five. She sat up in bed. Her flight left La-Guardia Airport at nine-forty-five. She needed to catch a taxi by eight-thirty. She’d set the alarm last night before she ventured out of the hotel. She leapt from the bed and suddenly realized she was naked. A flood of memories held her frozen as the events of the night and, in particular, the morning hit her.

She’d made love to Hunter!

She looked around the room as if expecting him to pop out from behind the dresser. He’d left? Disappeared? Or had she dreamed the entire thing?

She really didn’t know. She was still exhausted and wasn’t thinking too clearly. She moved toward the bathroom, sure a shower would help, when she winced in pain and hopped on her left foot. Bending down, she discovered a stud for a tuxedo shirt in the carpet.

So, it hadn’t been a dream. Hunter had come in with her and they’d made love. Or maybe they’d just had sex. He certainly appeared to have made a fast exit. There was no note. Nothing.

Briana threw herself in the shower for a fast rinse-off. There was no time to wash her hair. She put on the sweater and jeans again, with fresh underwear, thrust the last few things in the bag and gathered her belongings.

In the meantime, her mind was searching for some kind of explanation for Hunter’s behavior. He’d been such a gentleman. But leaving with no word, no pretense even of a future, almost destroyed her. Did he care nothing about her? Had she been so misled by his behavior that she’d completely misread his character?

She couldn’t call his room and ask him because the only name she had was Hunter. She’d assumed that was his first name, but she didn’t know.

She stared at the phone, tempted to try anyway, but she knew she didn’t have time. She was going to have to chalk the bizarre night and even stranger morning to experience and go catch her plane.

As she stood in the doorway for a long moment, tears came to her eyes. She’d thought this morning she’d found something special. But like so many women, she’d been misled by a handsome face and broad shoulders. And a gentle touch and blue eyes to die for.

What a jerk!

HALF AN HOUR later, Hunter hurried down the stairs again. He was feeling much better, even though he still hadn’t had much sleep. But he’d showered and shaved and changed into jeans and shirt, sports shoes, comfortable again. And he was looking forward to breakfast with Briana.

He hoped she’d gotten enough rest. It was just past eight-thirty, and he didn’t want to wait too long to wake her up. His flight left at two, but he didn’t know her schedule. He wanted to spend time with her before they had to be parted for however long it took for him to arrange his schedule. To work out their lives.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started whistling as he reached her floor. It was a glorious day. When he’d arrived at the conference, he’d had a lousy attitude. He hadn’t been happy lately. Now, he was on top of the world. One of the maids had her cart in the hallway near Briana’s room, and Hunter greeted her cheerfully.

He passed her and reached Bri’s room, and began to knock on the door. He hoped he could wake her. She slept so soundly.

“No one’s there.”

He whirled around, realizing it was the maid speaking.

Smiling, he explained, “No, she’s there. She’s a sound sleeper.”

The maid shook her head. “No, they just called me from downstairs to clean the room. She checked out a few minutes ago.”

The smile on his face disappeared. “No, you’re wrong. She’s still sleeping.”

The maid shrugged her shoulders and turned away. Hunter formed a fist and beat on the door now, determined to awaken Briana.

“Here, I’ll open the door.”

He found the maid beside him, a look of sympathy on her face.

“Thanks. I’ll wake her up.”

He pushed into the room, only to find it empty. The bed with the sheets in disarray, the closet empty, nothing in the bathroom. No note.

“Where is she?” he demanded harshly, turning to the maid.

His expression must’ve frightened her because she backed up a step. “I told you. She checked out a few minutes ago.”

“No, she wouldn’t have just left! There’s some mistake.” He searched the room again for some minute piece of evidence that would tell him something—anything about Briana. But there was nothing.

“Sorry, sir.” The maid stayed pressed against the wall, trying to keep out of his way.

“Thanks,” he managed as he left the room and ran for the elevators. As soon as he reached the main floor, he hurried over to the front desk. “A woman named Briana, from room 812, just checked out?”

“Yes, sir. Miss McCallum left for the airport about twenty minutes ago.” The young man behind the desk smiled, pleased to serve a customer properly.

“McCallum? Briana McCallum?”

“Yes, sir. I helped her myself.”

Now why did that name sound familiar? McCallum. Then he remembered. Maitland Maternity Hospital, the famous maternity hospital in Austin, Texas, was opening a new wing, a state-of-the-art facility specializing in multiple births. The McCallum Wing, dedicated to the donor’s wife, who’d died in childbirth. Administered by the donor’s daughter. It had been the main gossip of the conference, heightened by questions about her competency. Most everyone figured she was a rich woman playing at being a do-gooder. He usually gave people the benefit of the doubt, but he was in too much pain.

Briana McCallum. Rich woman. Looking for a new thrill. How about a doctor? Try one for the night and then skip town if it didn’t work out?

But it did work out! He raged within himself. It did! How could she deny what had happened between them? How could she just leave?

“Sir?” The clerk said with a frown. “Is anything wrong?”

“No!” Hunter snapped. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

What could be wrong? He asked himself savagely. He knew his lover’s name now. Briana McCallum. A rich woman—who had walked away.

But she hadn’t left her name for him. She hadn’t wanted him to know. She hadn’t wanted any more than what she’d got.

He hoped she was satisfied.

He wasn’t.