Gently she pulled the clothing away from his body until the entire front of his torso was exposed, then she dragged the head of the bloom over each nipple, teasingly brushing his belly, and the shaft of his dick, until he groaned in hungry agitation.
Helen saw by the expression in his eyes how horny and frustrated he felt, but Duncan still kept his lips clamped determinedly together, not saying a word. She was equally determined to hear him beg, to force those pleading words from his mouth. She stood astride both his legs, her thighs wide apart, and slowly eased up her skirt. Tantalising his senses with the sight of her lacy stocking tops and the pale skin of her upper thighs, she managed to arouse him even more when he saw that she wasn’t wearing panties.
Duncan stayed silent, his breathing heavy and laboured as he stared intently at the tangle of golden curls covering her pubis.
‘You have to ask,’ she prompted, running the rose over her open pussy lips, anointing her sex with the strong perfume seeping from the bruised petals.
‘And if I don’t?’ There was a stubborn expression on his handsome face, yet she knew he was enjoying every moment of this sweet torment.
‘I could deny you what you so clearly want,’ she teased, staring at his cock. ‘Or I could punish you in some way.’ She brushed the flower against his throbbing dick, making it twitch.
‘Are you sure you haven’t done this before? If not you should know that torture is definitely your forté.’ His voice sounded tight and strained, but still he didn’t move a muscle.
‘You are remarkably resilient,’ she taunted. ‘Perhaps you’ve indulged in such games before?’ Helen stroked his belly and chest with the flower head, then tossed the rose aside and leaned forwards to tweak his copper-coloured nipples, pulling at them with her fingertips until they darkened and hardened even more.
By now Duncan’s breathing had become laboured and his cock looked ready to explode. ‘I’ve always been a man of action, relished being in control. This situation is unique – I’ve never been hampered by a broken limb before. If I wasn’t, I’d lift you into my arms, carry you to the bed –’
‘And fuck me until I begged for mercy?’ she interjected, laughing softly. ‘But you’re the invalid, Duncan, and I’m the doctor, so you must do as I say.’
He watched mesmerised as she slid her fingers between her pussy lips, running them along the damp slit. Once they were liberally anointed with her juices, she stroked them across the head of his cock. Duncan uttered a faint groan, and dug his hands into the leather-covered arms of his chair, holding on as if his life depended on it. ‘This is agony.’
‘All you have to do is say please,’ Helen murmured, her fingers teasing the root of his cock, circling it slowly, but never taking hold of the shaft.
‘Please, Helen.’ Duncan exhaled loudly, his penis aching with excitement.
‘Almost there.’ She wanked him with long smooth strokes. ‘What else should you say?’
Duncan strained his pelvis upwards. ‘Please let me come inside you?’ he begged, as she felt the juices seep out of her pussy and coat her inner thighs.
However much she wanted to prolong Duncan’s agony, she knew she couldn’t wait a moment longer; she had to have him now. She crouched over his thighs, kneeling on the leather seat, as she eased her body downwards until her open quim was poised above his rearing cock. Duncan gasped as his cock head touched the moist entrance, jerking his pelvis upwards so that it slid part-way inside her. Unable to wait a moment longer, she slowly sheathed herself on to him, shafting downwards until she felt the root of his penis jam hard against her pelvic bone.
Helen paused, accustoming herself to the wonderful sensations of fullness, then she began to rock her hips.
‘So good,’ Duncan groaned, as she started to clench and release her interior muscles, exciting them both beyond awareness.
Lust overtook her completely. Placing her hands on Duncan’s wide shoulders, she lifted her hips, almost releasing her hold on his cock, before easing her body down again. The sensations were sweetly perfect as she increased the pace and pressure of her movements, until she was breathing heavily and a veil of sweat covered her brow. The thrusting pleasure, the feeling of total power over Duncan’s senses, was so overwhelming, so intense, that she almost lost control.
She bit back her moans as she concentrated on her rapid, rhythmic movements. She felt the pressure building inside her, and at that very moment, Duncan let go of the chair arm and slid his fingers in the slit of her sex. Lights danced before her eyes as he took hold of her clit, pulling on it roughly so that the painful pleasure pushed her over the edge into a gut-wrenching climax.
As the intense sensations died away, she leaned limply against Duncan’s muscular chest. He kissed her tenderly while he stroked and caressed her trembling body. Helen could still smell the scent of the rose, now tinged with the sweaty odour of sex. It was the sweetest perfume she had ever known.
When Helen eventually left Duncan it was almost 2 a.m. After their sexual encounter, they had drunk, eaten, and then talked for ages. She was feeling extraordinarily happy as she walked along the almost deserted corridors of the hospital. The night staff were seated at their desks, yawning, reading or drinking coffee, while their patients slept undisturbed.
She could hear nothing, not even the sound of her own footsteps on the thickly carpeted floor, then the silence was suddenly broken by the distant sound of spinning rotor blades. As the helicopter drew closer, Helen thought it would pass on by, but the sounds grew steadily louder and she realised it must be landing in the hospital grounds. ‘Who would be arriving here in the dead of night?’ she asked herself.
She was on the ground floor, making for the rear entrance of the hospital, when she heard the noise increase again as the helicopter took off. By the time she reached the open courtyard the helicopter would be far out of sight. Helen turned into the corridor that led to the rear doors.
Helen paused as she saw tall forms through the dimpled glass, then the swing doors were pushed open. Something, she didn’t know what, told her to step back into the shadows and avoid being seen. She slipped into a small unused examination room, just off the corridor. The room was pitch black as the blinds were tightly drawn. She would be able to hide and see into the corridor as the new arrivals passed by.
There was the rattle of a trolley and the sound of gruff male voices coming closer. Illuminated in the doorway she saw the trolley. The patient, a middle-aged man with a prominent hooked nose, had a face that seemed familiar, although she had no idea who he was. He was accompanied by three bulky looking men in dark suits, and Ben Taylor, dressed casually in jeans and T-shirt.
Helen didn’t know what to think, but it did cross her mind that this might be the mysterious Mr X. Yet there were still no procedures officially scheduled for a number of days. Why was this man’s identity being kept so secret, and what was so strange about his intended operation? The staff were loyal enough to keep quiet whatever happened, even if Mr X were famous and they were to be besieged by the press, so what reason could there be?
Helen chanced a furtive peek into the corridor, just in time to see the small group turning left. Curiosity prompted her to follow them. Taking off her high-heeled shoes, she tiptoed forwards. When she reached the intersection, she saw the group piling into a newly installed lift. This lift went straight to the new maternity unit, and the West Wing annex, which was currently being refurbished. None of the new rooms were due to be finished for a month or even more.
Certain that she wouldn’t be able to relax until she learned more about the new arrival, she hurried up the stairs to the first floor. Curiously she peered through the glass panel in the stairwell door, and saw the patient being pushed through the double doors, to the right of maternity, which led into the annex and nowhere else. Rumour had it that these rooms would be even more expensive than those in the West Wing, or the Rochester Suite, but they were far from finished, certainly not ready for occupation. What the h
ell was Ben doing???? putting one of his patients in there?
Chapter Six
THE FIRST THING Helen did when coming on duty the following morning was to check the operating lists. Why wasn’t she surprised to discover nothing had been added? Frankly she had suspected as much, concluding that if Ben and Ralph Kalowski had taken so much trouble to hide the patient’s name even from hospital staff, then they were not likely to broadcast it for all to see on the surgery schedules. Nevertheless, this conclusion did make her wonder exactly how many of the staff members were in on this weird conspiracy.
On the other hand, perhaps she was being totally paranoid. There could be some perfectly reasonable explanation for concealing this patient’s identity. She tried unsuccessfully to put the puzzle to the back of her mind as she went about her work.
She would have been tempted to speak to Ben, if she hadn’t discovered just how close he was to Justin. There was something about Justin Masterson that made her distrust him, a suspicion that there was far more to him than met the eye. Of one thing Helen was certain, he was a manipulative bastard, who probably used everyone to his own ends. Strange, she considered; she didn’t usually make snap judgements about people, but she had with Justin.
Duncan wasn’t on her morning list, but she intended to pop in and see him after she had finished her rounds. She had enjoyed herself more than she cared to admit last night, and she was looking forward to seeing him again.
The majority of Helen’s patients were in the East Wing of the hospital, where the staff were pleasant, friendly and very approachable. Since she’d been here she’d rarely had cause to go to the West Wing. The patients there were almost exclusively attended by their respective consultants, or just admitted for rest and relaxation, with little need to see the duty registrar.
Helen had found most of the staff in the West Wing a little weird. They acted as though she was intruding on their territory, and for some reason appeared suspicious of her presence. Also, Helen had discovered that Sandra seemed to exert greater control over the West Wing than she did any other part of the hospital.
Eager to spend some time with Duncan, Helen completed her rounds as swiftly as she could. She had only one patient left to check on – Miss Zara Dawn. As she approached her room, there seemed to be an inordinate number of people milling about, none of them members of staff.
‘What’s going on, nurse Barker?’ Helen addressed the nurse who had been talking about Duncan yesterday.
‘It is a little chaotic,’ nurse Barker agreed, ‘But Miss Dawn’s consultant said it would be OK.’
‘What would be OK?’
‘Miss Dawn is scheduled to appear in a TV mini-series soon after she leaves here. Apparently it’s a historical one, and wardrobe and make-up are here, fitting her for some of the costumes. Isn’t it exciting?’
‘Perhaps a tad too exciting for some of our other patients,’ Helen said, as she saw a couple of women chatting by the nurses’ station, one of them lighting a cigarette.
Helen stormed over to them. ‘This hospital has a no smoking policy. Put that out at once.’
The heavily made-up young woman, dressed entirely in black leather, stared at Helen. ‘Says who?’
‘I do,’ Helen replied. ‘No smoking, and tell the rest of your people to be a little quieter. They mustn’t get in the way of hospital staff. If you don’t follow the rules, I’ll have you all thrown out.’
As Helen turned away she heard the woman mutter something derogatory about her under her breath. ‘Nurse Barker,’ she said. ‘If there’s any trouble call security and eject the lot of them. I’m going to get a cup of coffee and let this hubbub die down. I’ll come back later to see Miss Dawn.’
‘Yes.’ The nurse looked at her rather curiously.
‘Is something wrong?’ Helen asked her.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, doctor,’ the nurse replied hesitantly. ‘My friend told me that you dined with Duncan Paul last night.’
‘That’s correct.’ Even the mention of his name made Helen smile with secret pleasure. ‘I’ve met Duncan before as it happens. We have a close mutual acquaintance.’
‘You are so lucky,’ nurse Barker said breathlessly. ‘I’m a really big fan. I know there are rules laid down about troubling patients, purely for their protection. It stops them being harassed, but I wondered, as you know him so well –’
‘What exactly are you getting at?’
‘His autograph, personalised, maybe even saying something like “With love”?’ nurse Barker said, turning a little misty-eyed.
Helen gave a soft laugh. ‘Is that all? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I’ll mention it when I see him later.’
‘That’s so good of you, Dr Dawson,’ nurse Barker said. ‘I’d be so grateful.’
‘In the meantime, keep a close eye on these people,’ Helen said, as the leather-clad woman left Zara’s room, banging the door nosily behind her. ‘Please ensure they don’t disturb the other patients.’
‘Yes,’ nurse Barker agreed, smiling.
Helen turned, intending to go down to the staff restaurant, grab a quick coffee, and perhaps a bite to eat, but when she caught sight of Ben Taylor she changed her mind. He didn’t stop to speak to her as he strode past, after just having exited a little-used corridor which led only to maternity and the uncompleted annex.
She decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek in that direction. If Ben had been to the annex it was likely that the mysterious patient was still in residence. Helen turned and walked swiftly along the same corridor, realising almost immediately that something was different about the place. Usually there were a number of workmen around, but the area was totally deserted. It wasn’t the weekend, and she could think of no other reason why the men shouldn’t be working today.
As she reached the end of the corridor she turned sharp right, passing the stairwell she’d hidden in last night. A thick, heavy piece of plastic sheeting had been fitted across the annex entrance a few feet in front of the double entrance doors. Helen brushed impatiently past it, letting it snap back in place with a loud rustle as she caught sight of the burly, dark-suited man sitting on an upright chair just in front of the annex doors. She was almost certain that she recognised him from last night.
He uncoiled his bulk from the chair and stood up as she approached. ‘No one allowed here,’ he said in a thick foreign accent, towering menacingly over her.
Helen pretended to examine the papers on her clipboard. ‘I’m the duty registrar. According to my records I’ve a patient to see here. A gentleman who’s about to undergo surgery.’
‘No one allowed,’ the man repeated, shaking his head.
‘Get out of my way.’ Helen tried to push past him, but he grabbed hold of her, digging his thick, meaty fingers into her upper arms.
‘No!’ he growled, as Helen uttered a loud cry of indignation.
‘What’s going on?’ The accent was upper-class English, but the new arrival looked foreign; Spanish or South American. Helen didn’t recognise the man who stepped out of the annex, letting the door swing silently shut behind him. Dark complexioned, with black hair smarmed severely back from his hard face, he wore an expensive pale-grey suit, and an elegant cream silk shirt and matching tie.
‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ Helen said angrily, trying to shake off the brute who had accosted her. The swarthy stranger spoke sharply to her assailant in Spanish. He immediately let go of Helen as she added, ‘I’m a senior registrar at this hospital.’
The swarthy man raised his finely arched eyebrows. ‘Then you should have already been informed, doctor, that this part of the building is off limits to all staff.’
‘I’ve heard nothing of the kind,’ Helen responded, irritated by the man’s superiority as he stared scathingly at her. ‘On whose authority, may I ask?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘The hospital board I suppose.’ He smiled coldly. ‘This gentleman has been posted here to prevent anyone entering.’
‘There was no need for him to use such force on me,’ she complained as she rubbed her bruised arms.
‘I regret he was rather overzealous, but he was acting purely out of concern for your safety.’
‘My safety?’
‘Yes.’ The man waved his hand in the direction of the annex. ‘The architect has discovered a fault in the structural integrity of one of the rooms. It needs to be dealt with immediately. This part of the building is very old, and specialists have to be brought in to solve the problem.’
Helen knew without a doubt that he was lying, such information would have been broadcast all around the hospital by now. While this unintelligible brute wouldn’t have been posted here to stop people entering, that job would have been assigned to hospital security. This was all a lie to prevent her getting inside the annex, discovering the mysterious patient’s identity.
‘Then why are you here?’ she asked.
‘I’m a representative of one of the specialist companies,’ he lied smoothly.
‘I happen to know that there is a patient in one of the rooms,’ she countered defiantly.
‘You are mistaken, doctor.’ He stepped back a pace, so that he was standing directly in front of the doors. ‘Your information is incorrect. There are no patients in this part of the hospital. I should warn you that if you even try to enter you will be putting yourself in considerable jeopardy.’
The threatening note in his voice was obvious, and Helen knew she would never get into the annex at this point in time. ‘Then perhaps you are right, perhaps I have been misinformed,’ she agreed calmly, trying not to show how uneasy he made her feel. ‘The records I have must be wrong.’
Doctor's Orders Page 12
