CarnalHealing

by Virginia Reede

  “Sometimes,” she said. “And, like every other writer I know, I’m working on a novel. But mostly I write essays or short stories.”

  “And you make a living at that?”

  Leonore hesitated. The truth was, she wrote because she loved to. She had a trust fund that was more than sufficient for her modest lifestyle, but she’d never told a man about it.

  “I get by,” was all she said. She changed the subject. “That smells incredible. What is it?”

  “Linguini Fra Diavolo.” He grinned. “You said you like seafood, and it’s a family recipe. I’m a quarter Italian. My grandma made sure I knew how to make a decent sauce before I left home. I love to cook—it’s in the genes. But I don’t have much time to do it on a resident’s schedule.”

  Leonore just nodded, content to watch him work. She admired the efficiency of his movements as he first tossed the salad, then pulled some bread from the oven where it had been warming. The table had already been set when she arrived and he waved her away when she tried to carry the salad bowl to the dining nook near a bay window.

  She’d been right when she speculated that his home wouldn’t feel anonymous. Although it had none of the clutter that tended to accumulate with long-term residence, neither did it have the bare walls or unpacked boxes that would be understandable for someone new to the area. The prints on the walls were well mounted, and there was an abstract sculpture, made of fused bronze, marble and glass, that bespoke obvious quality.

  “Soup’s on,” said Jeff, carrying a large platter to the table. He’d spread the linguini out and covered it with an enormous pile of mixed seafood—she could see shrimp, calamari, clams in their shells and scallops—all covered by a red sauce.

  “How much do you think I can eat?” She seated herself. “This is way too much food for just the two of us.”

  “Italian food is even better heated over,” he said. “Play your cards right and you’ll even get a doggie bag to take home with you.”

  This was nice. Leonore couldn’t remember when she last had a relaxed evening like this with anyone other than one of her sisters. Had she ever?

  But there was an undercurrent to this evening that had certainly never existed between the Leonoreans, and it wasn’t just the knowledge that the night would probably lead to sex. Leonore couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it had something to do with her magic. It was usually quite simple for her to quiet it when she wasn’t using it, but it was restless around this man. Lake a caged animal, long accustomed to the bounds of its confinement, suddenly testing the bars of its enclosure.

  Jeff hummed as he spooned pasta onto a plate for Leonore, grinning.

  “Are you always this cheerful?” she asked him.

  “When I’m having dinner with a beautiful woman who I’ve successfully lured into my apartment? Absolutely.” He put down the platter and handed her a bread basket. “Also, I had an excellent day at work. I got back some test results for a patient I’ve been having a particularly hard time with, and they were just amazing. In fact, they showed so much improvement I was afraid there was some kind of mistake, and I had them run a second time. Same results.”

  “That’s great.” Leonore hid a smile, remembering that Jeff had told Lucy’s parents there would be tests yesterday afternoon, with results available this morning. “I’ll bet it’s wonderful to be able to give good news to a parent.”

  “It’s the best feeling in the world,” he agreed, “but that’s not the only reason this particular case was so important.”

  “It wasn’t?” If she seemed a little too interested, he didn’t notice.

  “No. You see, I’m researching a new treatment and although I’ve had some good results, this is by far the most dramatic case.”

  An alarm bell, faint but distinctly discordant, struck somewhere very far back in Leonore’s mind. “So Lu— I mean your patient was part of some kind of test?”

  “Yes. For a new combination of drugs and therapy that haven’t been put together quite this way before. I’m trying to qualify for a research grant, and this case may be the one that seals the deal.”

  She put down her fork, her appetite suddenly gone. “I thought grants were decided on the basis of hundreds of cases, if not thousands.”

  “Sometimes,” he agreed. “If we were talking about totally new drugs or something, that would likely be the case. But this is a new course of treatment using existing drugs. And it’s not a very big grant. I just have to have enough information to convince a panel.” He took a sip of wine and smiled brilliantly. “And with the results from this case to show them, my chances just rose exponentially.”

  But the results of this case don’t have anything to do with the treatment. Leonore almost spoke the words aloud.

  The alarm bell was no longer distant. It was bonging away in her brain with a volume that threatened to make her head explode. In all the times she’d been healing sick kids, it had never occurred to Leonore there might be a negative consequence.

  Something must have shown on her face, because Jeff’s brow creased in concern. “You’re not eating. Is the sauce too spicy?”

  “What?” She looked at the plate of pasta, which had been so appetizing only a moment before. She knew she couldn’t take another bite to save her life. “The sauce is perfect. It’s just that I…I suddenly felt a little faint.”

  “But you’ve barely taken a bite.” He reached for Leonore’s hand, but she moved it under the table.

  “I’m sure it’s not the food,” Leonore hedged. She noticed the glass of wine and clutched at it like a lifeline. She took a big swig, swallowing most of the glass’s contents in a single gulp. Jeff’s eyebrows rose. She stood up.

  Jeff followed suit. “Do you want to lie down?”

  Leonore shook her head firmly. “No. I’ll be all right. I just think I had better go.”

  Jeff was obviously dismayed. “But…you were fine a minute ago. If you would just rest a minute…”

  She felt a surge of annoyance, which was completely unreasonable. It wasn’t his fault. As she looked around for her handbag, he came around the table and put his hands on her hips.

  “Whoa. I’m a doctor, remember? If you’re feeling unwell, you’re better off here. With me.”

  Leonore, about to flee, hesitated. She was torn—she wanted to be alone to think about the implications of what she just learned. On the other hand, she felt oddly calmed by his touch. And, as it had every previous time he’d touched her, her magic rushed toward the point of contact, tingling with anticipation.

  “I-I think it’s passing.” She didn’t want him to start treating her like a patient. “I’m fine now, really. I’m not sure what came over me.” Except for a tsunami of self-doubt about the one thing that’s always made me feel good. To prove she wasn’t lying, she sat back down, picked up her fork and skewered a scallop, then put it into her mouth. It was delicious, and her fear that she’d be unable to eat vanished.

  “I do. You were enjoying yourself too much.” Jeff used a fork to point at her, the playful tone of his words belying their seriousness. “You were afraid you’d forget to be careful and actually tell me something about yourself.”

  “That’s not true,” Leonore protested. The reasons she generally avoided anything beyond small talk had nothing to do with fear. It just wasn’t necessary to know anything about the men she bedded.

  “Then prove it. You were telling me about your novel. What’s it about?”

  “It’s just, you know, a novel.” Leonore took another bite of the pasta and determined that her stomach was going to cooperate. Suddenly she was ravenous.

  “No, I don’t know,” said Jeff. “I read all kinds of novels, everything from horror to romance. What’s yours?”

  “You read romance novels?” Jeff nodded, and Leonore continued. “I’m surprised. Most guys wouldn’t admit it. I picked you for medical thrillers.”

  “My life is a medical thriller. People leave stuff around the doctors lou
nge, and residents work all kinds of crazy shifts. Believe me, the last thing I want to do after spending a day with medical personnel and dying kids is read about doctors and sick people. A good old, sappy romance novel is the perfect escape.”

  Leonore grinned. “Sappy?”

  “I mean that in the best possible sense. Good wins the day, the guy gets the girl…” He raised an eyebrow over a bite of food. “Does this mean your novel is a romance?”

  “No,” said Leonore. “It’s more of a…a book about an ancient quest.” She had a little more of the excellent wine. “Tish says it’s a wannabe autobiography—how I would have been if I’d lived in the sixth century.”

  “Tish?”

  “Letisha. My…friend.” Gawd, had she just mentioned another Leonorean to a virtual stranger? Leonore eyed the wine bottle to see if they’d had more than she thought. Nope, still half full.

  What is it about this guy? Her arms were still literally tingling from where he’d touched her a few minutes before. Maybe it was affecting her mind.

  “So your protagonist is a woman, and she’s on a quest in the sixth century. An historical adventure, then? I’d like to read it.”

  Leonore wondered if he was just being polite, or if he was really interested.

  “I don’t generally let people read unfinished work.”

  “Except Tish?”

  Touché.

  “Tish—Letisha—is more like family than a friend. And she badgered me into it.”

  “I’m prepared to badger.” The way he said it, with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, made it sound like an indecent proposal. Leonore laughed.

  “Maybe,” she conceded.

  She realized she was completely relaxed again. The disquiet caused by his revelation about the research was still there, but another voice seemed to be telling her not to worry, that no bad could come from being with this man.

  It was a completely new sensation.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Jeff said, standing up, “I have to get out the heavy equipment for the pièce de résistance.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He moved to the kitchen island and opened a cabinet underneath. He removed a metal canister and put it on the bar with a clunk.

  “Is that a blow torch? Are you planning on welding something?”

  “It’s a chef’s torch. Probably doesn’t get hot enough for welding, but I haven’t tried it.” He turned to the refrigerator and took out two shallow white dishes and placed them on the counter next to the torch.

  “Crème brûlée,” he explained. He removed a striker from a drawer, turned a lever on the can and lit the gas coming from the nozzle. Leonore watched, fascinated.

  “It’s trickier than it looks,” he explained as he began to move the flame over the surface of the custard. “The idea is to harden the sugar on the top, browning it without burning it. You should be able to break through it easily with your spoon, but not too easily.”

  “Sort of an edible miniature skating rink,” she said. “I’m impressed. I’d probably catch my hair on fire.”

  He was doing the second dish now. “It’s easy to look like an expert after dozens of failed attempts. But now…” He turned off the torch and set it aside, then carried the two dishes to the table. “Voilà! Sweets to the sweet.”

  Leonore rolled her eyes but found she didn’t really mind the corny expression. She was about to plunge her spoon through the crust when Jeff, who had come around to sit next to her, took it from her hand.

  “Allow me.” There was an audible crunch as the spoon broke through the delicate crust, then he placed it in her mouth.

  The warm crust combined with the cool creamy custard was perfect, and Leonore’s eyes almost rolled back into her head in ecstasy. She savored it for a moment before swallowing.

  “Amazing,” she said. “Truly amazing.”

  “Have another,” he said, spoon hovering. She opened her mouth to accept the bite. Before she could swallow it, Jeff had put down the spoon and leaned forward to kiss her. Leonore, who had closed her eyes to truly appreciate the flavor of the creamy dessert, was startled at first. Then, she relaxed as his tongue slid into her mouth, capturing some of the custard.

  He pulled back and licked his lips. “Ummm. And I though kissing you tasted good before.”

  “Eat your own dessert,” she said, only pretending to be annoyed. “This one’s mine.”

  “I’ll eat my own, if you let me use you as a plate.”

  Leonore gauged his expression to see if he was serious. He was.

  “That,” she said, putting her spoon down slowly, “is a wonderful idea.” His kiss had set the magic in her buzzing. She glanced over at the sofa.

  “Oh, no,” he said, following her gaze. “Not here. We’ve had sex on a car and a desk. I told myself that if I made love to you tonight, it would be done properly. In a bed.”

  Made love?

  Before Leonore could think about what this meant, Jeff was pulling her to his feet. “Come on.” She started to stumble toward the stairs, suddenly clumsy with desire.

  “Wait!” he said, and she looked up, puzzled.

  “You’re forgetting the crème brûlée.”

  Chapter Five

  Upstairs, Jeff just managed to carefully place the dessert plates on the nightstand before reaching to pull Leonore’s blouse over her head, revealing the lacy bra that Ludmilla had bought her for her birthday—months earlier—and she was wearing for the first time. He paused for a moment, stepping back to look at her appreciatively.

  Leonore felt oddly self-conscious. Dozens of men—hundreds, really—had seen her body, at least in the brief glimpses she allowed them before getting down to business. She hadn’t minded or worried that they would find her attractive. She knew the power a lush, healthy woman’s body could hold. It was a power she’d used to her advantage many times.

  Now, she warmed under the huger in Jeff’s gaze. “Wow,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

  “I…thank you.” Leonore didn’t know what to say. She’d heard the compliment before. She just hadn’t really paid much attention. She lowered her eyes, then focused on what was right in front of her. His crotch. With a very big bulge, not much camouflaged by the drapey fabric of his trousers. She reached for it, connecting. He groaned.

  Leonore’s tantalizing view was blocked as he again leaned forward to kiss her, his hands sliding under the bottom edge of her bra until his thumbs and forefingers found her nipples. Her magic rushed to the points of contact, tingling along breast, lips and tongue. His cock throbbed in her hands, and she fumbled for his zipper. She got it open, pulled at his underwear and, finally, it was free.

  “Let me…” she said, pulling back so she could see her prize. “Ah, yes.” She leaned forward, intent on taking it in her mouth.

  “Wait,” said Jeff. “Let’s take the rest of our clothes off. It’s high time we actually got naked together.”

  “I—” Leonore almost argued that she had something she wanted to do first, but suddenly laughed. He was right. They’d had sex twice without removing more than her panties. And she wanted to see his body. All of it. She released him, then reached behind her back to unhook her bra. She straightened to unzip the long skirt she was wearing and realized Jeff was standing stock-still.

  “You’re not undressing,” she said, as she slithered out of the skirt. “And it was your idea to get naked.”

  He broke out of his trance. “You’re right. It was. I was temporarily frozen in awe. Forgive me.” He stepped out of his trousers—when had he gotten barefoot?—and started unbuttoning his shirt. When he finally got it off, Leonore was treated to an expanse of chest that was truly worth the wait. She stared.

  Now it was Jeff’s turn to laugh. “We’re standing here staring at one another like a couple of virgin teenagers who’ve never seen a member of the opposite sex naked before.”

  Leonore felt herself blush. “I’ve seen plenty of naked men be
fore. But I’m not sure I’ve seen one quite so…” Perfect.

  “So what?” Jeff stepped closer, and Leonore felt his breath on her forehead.

  “Never mind. You’ll get a swollen head. Oops!” She grasped his cock in her hand and squeezed lightly, making him gasp. “Looks like you’ve already got one.”

  “Careful,” he breathed. “You don’t want this to be over before we even get started.”

  “Oh, I’ll be careful,” Leonore replied. “I—”

  She got no further because his mouth closed over hers. Instantly, her magic swelled like a rising tide, rushing to all points of contact as he pulled her body against his. She managed—just—to keep at it within the confines of her skin, but she tingled at every spot where they touched.

  Leonore pulled her head back, gasping, and his lips began to move over her throat. She ran her hands up the sides of his back, appreciating the feel of powerful muscles rippling under smooth skin. Maybe if I concentrate on giving pleasure, I’ll have a better chance at keeping my magic under control.

  She pushed lightly at his chest, and he looked at her, questioning.

  “Here,” she said, moving so that the two of them would rotate until the bed was at his back instead of hers. “Lie back. And give me one of those plates of crème brûlée while you’re at it.”

  “I think I see where you’re going with this,” said Jeff, spreading himself backward on the bed and reaching toward the nightstand where the desserts sat. “And I like it.”

  “Oh, you’re going to more than like it.” Leonore took the plate from Jeff and set it on the floor next to her feet, then sank to her knees and dipped a finger into the still-warm custard. She grasped his cock in her other hand and spread the creamy substance over the head and down the top of the shaft. Jeff groaned.

  “That feels—” His words were cut off as she started to slowly lick up the sweet confection. She pulled the head into her mouth, applying just a little more pressure than was needed to clean it of the last drops.

  “I think I need a little more dessert,” she said, and began dipping and applying a second helping. This time, she let her lips glide a little farther down, pulling more of his cock into her mouth and toward the back of her throat. Jeff shuddered and moaned.