‘Sex,’ she managed, and it was all he could do not to bend his head and lick the promise-laden word from her lips. ‘We had it. And it was...fine.’
‘Fine?’ The exclamation was out before he could stop it.
‘Good, then,’ she amended. ‘But you’re mistaken if you think that I spend my days dreaming of more.’
‘Indeed?’
Without really knowing what he was doing, Nikhil edged closer to her, ignoring the voice in his head shouting that this was the perfect way out. It allowed Isla to save face whilst giving him what he wanted—what he said he wanted—distance. It wasn’t a challenge; he shouldn’t take it as one.
‘You don’t think of it at all?’ His voice sounded odd. Not himself.
‘No.’ Her voice was insubstantial. ‘Never.’
Before he could think better of it, he dipped his head to her ear.
‘Liar,’ he murmured. ‘You want a lot more.’
‘No.’ She jerked her head a little, as though trying to shake it. ‘You’re not the only one with no-go rules about colleagues.’
‘I’m not talking about other colleagues, Isla. I’m talking about you and me.’
‘There is no you and me.’ She didn’t even sound as if she believed her own words. ‘And I don’t want there to be.’
‘Is that so?’
It took Nikhil all of his willpower not to throw her over his shoulder, carry her to her bed and prove to them both just how weak that declaration was. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
He should never have come here.
He should have gone to the gym and gone several rounds with the punchbag, or run a decent half marathon on the treadmill, or even swum a couple of miles in one of the ship’s special lap pools.
Anything to expend energy—and frustration—and to stop himself from coming here.
He should leave now—only he didn’t. He stayed rooted to the spot, pretending that he didn’t sense his renowned self-control starting to slip away.
The roar grew in Nikhil’s head the longer he stood, looking at Isla. Watching the way her pulse jumped in her elegant neck, belying the calm exterior she was so desperately trying to present. That telling, hungry darkening in her glorious eyes. The way her breathing grew as choppy as the seas could around here.
She wanted him. Every bit as much as he wanted her.
Blood pooled in his sex, telling him what it wanted in no uncertain terms. His body at war with his brain. And there was nothing more to it than sex. There couldn’t be.
He wouldn’t allow there to be.
‘What do you want from me, Nikhil?’ she cried out suddenly.
‘Nothing,’ he rasped. ‘And too much.’
Then, before either of them could analyse that any further, he pressed her up against the wall of her cabin and claimed her mouth with his. And, even as she emitted a weak moan of protest, her arms came up to loop around his neck and press her soft, warm breasts against his chest, their peaks already hard, making his palms itch.
Making every inch of him itch. And ache. And need.
She was driving him crazy.
He lifted his hands to her head, taking it gently in his palms and tilting it so that he could better kiss her. He revelled in the way her lips parted when he slicked his tongue over them, inviting him inside, making them both want more.
He kissed her thoroughly, completely, the way he’d wanted to since...for ever. He finally permitted his hands to trail over her body, reacquainting himself with all those mouth-watering curves that haunted him each and every night.
It was sheer bliss to finally give into this dark need to reach around the back of his neck and take her hands, intertwining her fingers with his as he held them against the wall above her head, making her arch into him all the more.
Then, as he encircled both her wrists with one of his hands, he moved his other hand down to relearn the lines of her face, the long sweep of her back and the indent of her waist. All so strangely familiar, as though he’d caressed them a thousand times instead of just that one night.
Or as though he knew them by instinct.
The same instinct that made him lift his hand to the underside of her breast, the sublimity of her heart as it thundered wildly beneath his palm. Betraying her. Confirming everything that he already knew.
Walking his fingers slowly higher, Nikhil allowed his thumb to graze the hard peak, evident even through the material of her uniform. Her harsh intake of breath only fuelling the fires that much more as she let her head tip back to allow his mouth access to her neck, and that sensitive hollow at her throat. And he took full advantage.
It was impossible to resist any longer. He could feel the monster inside him rattling to be let out. To take what he wanted, when what he wanted was Isla. To hell with all his rules and boundaries; she’d been breaking them all from the moment they’d met, anyway.
Sliding his hand down her belly to her abdomen, and lower, Nikhil deftly unbuttoned her crisp white trousers and slid the zip down with a shocking, thrilling sound.
‘What...are you doing?’ Each word caught deliciously.
But Nikhil didn’t have time to dwell. He felt raw, and edgy. Primal. Even as he grazed his teeth over the smooth white of her throat, his fingers buried themselves in her heat. He could barely trust himself to think, let alone speak.
‘Giving you what you want,’ he managed to grate out.
She gasped softly. ‘What about you?’
‘Definitely what I want,’ he confessed harshly.
And then he set about proving it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS AN explosion of sensation, tearing through her like the hottest, most blinding light. Everything in her pulled taut. Perfect.
‘So wet,’ Nikhil muttered, his voice almost reverent.
And Isla let the dark, greedy heat close around them both, like a fist. Her sex flooded with need as he stroked her, slowly at first, taking time to build the pace, making her mindless. The more she bucked against his hand, the lower that growl of laughter, so deep in his throat. But he didn’t stop, he didn’t even react, his fingers just kept moving exactly where she needed him most, that lazy, leisurely pace that she found so ridiculously addictive.
Yet it wasn’t the physical act that affected Isla the most. More, it was the knowledge that Nikhil, with his reputation for being so in control amongst his staff, seemed to consistently show her a different side to himself.
And surely it wasn’t too arrogant to think that it could only be because it was her?
But there was no time to voice it, or even consider it. His fingers were sliding over her, sending her off into spirals of pleasure. In ten years together, Bradley had never once made her feel this incredible, this on the edge, this desired.
Perhaps worse than that, however, was the fact that she didn’t think she’d ever cared. Yet right now, with Nikhil, it was all she could think about. The feel of his fingers playing with her, toying with her. And that incredible wave of sensation, swelling deep inside her, bigger, and higher, like a tsunami of lust until suddenly she realised that it was curling back around—so powerful and so fast—that she barely had time to cling hold of Nikhil before it began to crash over her.
And all she could hear were her own greedy sounds, as she was caught up in the most perfect wipe-out she thought she had ever known.
Isla had no idea how long it took her to resurface. She didn’t particularly care. All she knew was that Nikhil was still there, holding her. And that she was desperate for him to feel a fraction of the fervour that he’d just rained down upon her.
She wanted to hear him call out her name, the way he always made her cry out his. And maybe that realisation should scare her more than it did. But, right in that moment, Isla couldn’t bring herself to care.
‘Now me,’ she whispered shak
ily, one hand still clinging to his shoulder for support, as the other hand slid down his uniform to cup him where he was hard, and ready.
Just for her.
The knock at the door could hardly have been timed much worse.
The atmosphere in the room flipped in a heartbeat as Nikhil wrenched himself away from her, leaving her fighting to stay standing on her still-weak legs. But not before she’d seen the expression in his eyes harden, and she knew he’d shut her out—just as she’d been prising away those defences that he kept around him, like armour.
‘Dr Sinclair?’
Another sharp rap seemed to echo through her room.
‘Answer them,’ Nikhil commanded quietly, his fury barely restrained.
But she knew it was directed more at himself than anyone else. Not that it made the situation any less awkward.
‘And say what?’ she hissed, relieved her voice didn’t quake the way she had feared it might.
‘Buy yourself enough time to sort your uniform out, then open the door,’ and then he turned and stalked across her room towards the little seated area with the couch.
‘I...’ She faltered uncertainly, then lifted her voice as confidently as she dared. ‘One moment, please.’
Hastily, she fixed her uniform, hoping that Nikhil couldn’t see just how badly her hands were shaking. Nonsense, really, when she thought of the way he’d just made her shatter around his mere fingers.
But it didn’t matter anyway, because he still had his back to her, apparently searching for something. Her brain couldn’t even begin to deal with him right now.
Taking a step forward, she opened the door and a crew member she didn’t recognise stared back at her.
‘I’m Dr Sinclair,’ Isla offered when the girl didn’t speak.
‘I...is my friend,’ she managed at last in broken English. ‘He is...ill.’
‘If he’s ill, then you should call the medical centre.’ Isla smiled gently.
The girl looked unexpectedly horrified. ‘No...no medical centre...please.’
‘I see,’ Isla said, frowning.
Alarm bells were going off in her head. If they didn’t want the medical centre alerted, the chances were it was drug-related and they were hoping that, as the new doc on board, she was the weak link.
‘Step in, please,’ Nikhil’s voice commanded evenly, making them both jump. ‘Let’s not have this conversation in the corridor.’
Isla felt for the young girl as her face paled, and they both looked around the door to where Nikhil was sitting on her couch with a pile of papers on the coffee table in front of him, looking for all the world as though they had been conducting a meeting.
It seemed the crew member wasn’t to know that professional meetings didn’t generally take place in cabins. Or perhaps she was just too distracted with her own medical emergency to think. Either way, she began backing away from the door.
‘No...no, no doctor emergency. Mistake,’ she repeated rapidly.
Nikhil was by the door in a flash. ‘No mistake,’ he told her firmly. ‘If someone is sick, whatever the circumstances, he needs to be treated. Dr Sinclair is coming now. You will take us straight to him.’
‘No... I...’
‘Ready, Dr Sinclair?’
Grabbing her medical bag, Isla pulled the door closed behind them.
‘Ready,’ she confirmed, waiting for the now terrified girl to turn around before mouthing to Nikhil to alert the medical centre.
They both knew that if drugs were involved then he, and the ship’s security, would need to know. However, Isla couldn’t help thinking that Nikhil turning up initially would be counter-productive. With a First Officer there, the other crew members—if any of them had hung around long enough—would be more likely to clam up, and Isla feared not learning what the patient had taken.
Besides, the faster someone got to him with a full medical kit, the better. Her bag didn’t have that much in it.
She was grateful that Nikhil appeared to realise this, turning down a different corridor to head in another direction, leaving the crewmember visibly sighing with relief.
It took several minutes for Isla to reach her patient, even hurrying down the main motorway corridor of the crew decks. But then, finally, they rounded a corner and she saw a cluster of crew around the door to one of the tiny cabins, her fear heightening as they all scattered the moment they saw her.
‘There...’ The crew member pointed, redundantly.
Pushing her way into the tiny space, Isla finally saw her patient. He was lying on his side, his breathing extremely shallow, his body twitching now and then but otherwise unconscious. A quick measure of his pulse confirmed it was reduced, whilst a check of his eyes confirmed the pupils were constricted. At least someone had had the sense to put him into the recovery position.
Briefly, she checked his airway. Clear—that was good.
‘What did he take?’
She didn’t really need to hear it, but she asked all the same. Still, it wasn’t really a surprise when no one answered.
‘The more information I have, the better I am able to treat your friend,’ she continued conversationally, biting back her frustration. ‘Your loyalty won’t count for much if he dies.’
‘Skag,’ a male voice bit out suddenly. ‘Just a bit of Skag.’
Just a bit said it all really, Isla thought, swallowing down a sudden wave of anger. Still, at least it meant she knew the best way to treat him.
‘You can treat...yes?’ someone asked, their accent so strong that it took Isla a moment to work out the words.
‘I need more kit. You have to alert the medical centre.’
This time no one argued. Though no one moved to do anything either.
‘I’m not here to play judge and jury; I just want to help your friend.’
‘Fine...’ Another voice spoke, and Isla thought it was the same man. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Just call them.’ Isla fought to keep her voice even.
‘No need.’ There was a sudden flurry of activity by the door as Jordanna pushed her way through. ‘I’m here.’
Isla eyed the med bag, oxygen cannister and mask with relief.
‘That was fast,’ she noted.
‘Was it? Good, I felt like I went round in circles for a while, asking about a hundred people if they knew anything.’
Isla grunted. ‘No one ever wants to be seen to be associated with it. Did you bring Naloxone?’
‘Ah, that’s what it is, is it? Yeah. I have that.’
‘Great.’ Isla concentrated on getting in a cannula whilst Jordanna dealt with the oxygen mask. They would need to support respiration with a bag-valve mask before she began to administer the opioid receptor antagonist.
‘I thought it was Naltrexone?’ a male crewman asked suddenly. Tellingly, Isla thought.
‘No—’ she lifted her head ‘—Naltrexone is used to treat drug addiction by blocking opioid cravings, and alcohol cravings for that matter, but it can’t treat overdoses. Naloxone can treat the overdose but not the craving.’
The two might sound alike, but their different half-lives really made the distinction. Not that she thought the crewmen wanted that much information.
‘Okay, let’s start with nought point nought four milligrams—’ Isla prepped the syringe ‘—and see how that goes. Be ready for them.’ As soon as the medication hit the brain and began to reverse the effects of the overdose, Isla knew the patient could lash out.
Carefully, she administered the drug.
* * *
‘What happened to you?’ Gerd demanded as he walked into the medical centre a few hours later to see Jordanna on the couch with an ice pack on her eye.
‘She got belted by an ungrateful patient.’
‘Ah—’ the senior nurse nodded ‘—I heard about that.�
�
‘Already?’ Jordanna lifted the pack up and winced.
‘You know how news travels fast,’ Isla noted, carefully taking her colleague’s hand and placing the pack back down over the eye. ‘And that kind of news travels even faster.’
‘Yeah, well, he’ll be escorted off the ship as soon as we get into port, and he’ll never work for Port-Star again.’ Gerd blew out with satisfaction. ‘The security staff will be here any minute to take a statement.’
‘Ah, speak of the devil,’ Jordanna added, as they heard voices heading up the corridor.
All too familiar voices, Isla realised, as Nikhil’s rich tones infiltrated the room. She froze, part of her wanting to flee, the other part knowing she would need to give her report.
She didn’t dare look at either Jordanna or Gerd; nonetheless she waited, her heart jumping in her chest, but neither of them said anything more. Apparently, the grapevine hadn’t included anything about Nikhil having been in her cabin, and for that she was eternally grateful.
And then Nikhil and the security guard were heading through the surgery doors, and she just about had time to plaster a cheery smile on her face.
‘How’s the eye, Nurse?’ Nikhil asked at once, and Isla couldn’t help smiling as Jordanna practically glowed at the concern.
‘I’ll survive.’
‘Glad to hear it. Are you up to giving your statement?’
‘Sure.’ The ravishing American flashed a killer smile despite the black eye, but Nikhil had already turned away, leaving her with the equally tall, equally dark, but not quite as handsome security guy.
Jordanna’s smile faded for a second and Isla almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
But then Nikhil’s razor gaze turned on her, and she had to concentrate on radiating a nonchalance she simply didn’t feel.
‘Doctor—’ his tone was courteous, strictly business, and still it sent goosebumps through her ‘—I appreciate surgery has overrun, but I just need a brief word, please.’
‘Of course.’ Dipping her head slightly, Isla stood.
‘Is your consultation room free?’
The Doctor's One Night to Remember Page 10
