Recovery

by JC Harroway

  ‘You know …’ his icy stare dipped to my mouth, ‘if you wanted a quick sample, all you had to do was ask.’

  Before I could utter a single word in comeback, I was pressed against the wall. His mouth crashed to mine, a tangle of lips, teeth and tongue that knocked the air from my lungs and the objections from my mind. His body pinned me to the wall and he cradled my face in his hands while he ravaged my mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue.

  I was blindsided. Clinging desperately to his sweat-slicked shoulders, I welcomed the sensual assault with a whimper of acquiescence. My senses reeled, overwhelmed by him—the solid bulk of his shoulders under my hands, the rasp of his facial hair on my cheeks, chin and lips, and the heady scent of masculinity that rose from him on a cloud of heat.

  Tugging my hair, he tipped my head back and deepened the kiss, a feral growl emanating from his throat. I moaned, running my fingers through his damp hair, and held on as he lifted my thighs, hoisting my feet from the ground to fix me to the wall with his hips.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles, my stomach cushioning the prod of his erection.

  Bracing one arm under me, he held me up and ground his pelvis into mine, creating a heady thrill of friction that left me gasping for more. Panting hard, he released my mouth and used his teeth on the fullness of my bottom lip before trailing open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

  The ability to speak deserted me. I was suspended, breathless and so turned on, I’d forgotten my own name. All thoughts of why I’d come here had evaporated with the first shocking touch of his lips on mine.

  Over his shoulder, I caught sight of us in the window reflected from the blackness outside. I didn’t recognise the woman I saw. Her hair was wild, her swollen lips parted on a gasp and desire weighed her eyelids to half-mast.

  Nathan’s legs were spread wide as he held me imprisoned against the wall and the muscles of his back undulated as he moved his mouth over my throat. We made a captivating sight, and who knew how long we’d have continued the madness if he hadn’t spoken.

  ‘Is this what you wanted?’ He ground his erection into me once more, pulling back to mock me with the cold arrogance of his glare.

  His words registered, dousing me like ice-cold water. I let my feet fall to the ground and shoved at his shoulders, my palms slipping on his still damp skin.

  ‘Fuck you!’ I twisted from his grasp, my face aflame and my throat tight.

  He braced one arm on the wall over the space I’d vacated and followed my retreat with hooded eyes.

  I ignored the hint of vulnerability clouding his expression, bolstering my anger for a counter attack. ‘What are you talking about? You said you’d remove the photo.’

  ‘I did. Obviously it was too late.’ He pushed away from the wall and stalked to a mini fridge across the room, retrieving a bottle of water and downing it in almost one swallow. ‘I have to say I’m impressed.’ He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tipped the last of the water over his head.

  The luckiest of the drops trailed down his throat and onto his chest. Desire still buzzed in my veins, but I clenched my jaw, biting it back.

  ‘You had me convinced with all that “professional integrity” crap. If ever you want a change of career, I’m sure your acting skills could land you any role you want in Hollywood.’

  ‘You think I did this?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  Anger raised my voice to shrill. ‘You posted the photo.’

  In two strides, he was inches from me. ‘Yes, but the rest of the story was all you.’

  ‘You’re crazy. Why would I do that? I was furious at the photo alone.’ My arms were rigid at my sides as if they held me together.

  His sneer twisted his mouth. ‘Perhaps you thought better of it, saw a way to make a little cash?’ He was so close his breath gusted over my face and flecks of fire danced in his irises.

  I widened my stance, my muscles tense and ready for a fight. ‘I don’t need cash. My privacy is more important to me than anything else. I would never flaunt myself publically.’

  He backed away, shaking his head with his eyes closed, and gripping the back of his neck with one hand.

  ‘How do I know you didn’t circulate the story yourself? No publicity is bad publicity for people like you, right?’

  His bulk filled my vision as he invaded my personal space again. ‘People like me?’ His eyes blazed, scorching my already heated face.

  A wisp of fear joined the emotional cocktail swirling inside me. I’d pissed him off. ‘Yes. Image is everything, right? Chasing the success, the money, the adoring fans, the fame.’

  ‘You don’t know me at all.’ The muscles of his jaw bunched. ‘I don’t use people. I don’t need to.’

  ‘You used me. You took my photo without asking. You invaded my privacy. I don’t need this. I have people in my life who don’t need this. They’ve been through enough.’ I plunged my hands into my hair, ready to tear it out in great handfuls.

  Turning away, he stalked to the sliding doors and pushed them open to let in the frigid night. He leaned one elbow on the doorframe, his hand clutching the hair at the back of his head as he stared into the blackness outside.

  Some of the anger deflated from me with a rush of air from my lungs. ‘Why didn’t you deny it?’

  He spoke without turning around, his voice flat. ‘I did. Lucy issued a press release as soon as she became aware of the story. Sometimes, all that does is add credibility to the lies.’ He shrugged.

  A veil of red coloured my vision. ‘Don’t you get it? This is just more publicity for you, but for me, it’s devastating.’ I covered my mouth with one hand, holding in the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to spew out onto the gym’s hardwood flooring.

  ‘As I said, anything I do now is likely to make things worse. I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced, but—’

  ‘Inconvenienced? You don’t understand. My family is vulnerable.’ I was Jess’s fire-breathing Welsh dragon, seething in a mist of fury.

  He turned, resignation dulling his eyes and weighing down his shoulders. ‘Let’s calm down. We know the truth.’ He snagged a T-shirt from the handrail of the running machine and pulled it over his head. ‘There’s nothing going on between us. What does it matter?’ He pulled the hem of the shirt down as he approached me once more.

  My fingers touched my lips, which still tingled from the crush of his mouth, his beard, his teeth. No, there was nothing between us. ‘It matters to me, because I’ve lived through this shit before. The truth isn’t important. People believe the lies.’

  He wrapped his hands around my upper arms, pulling me forward until I had to crane my neck back to maintain eye contact. ‘Explain that. What happened to you?’ His grip, like his tone, was firm, and there was no arguing with either.

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough. Just keep following the story.’ I pried one of his hands from my arm.

  His eyes gleamed with determination. ‘Tell me. I want to hear it from you.’

  I snorted. ‘Well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?’ Yanking my other arm free I barged passed him and headed for the sliding door.

  I paused, turned back to him and said, ‘Ask your assistant to dig around, search my name. It may convince you to deny the link between us more vehemently.’

  Leaving the door open, I stumbled out into the night.

  Chapter Four

  THE clinic was under siege. Two or three photographers camped out permanently in the park across the road, their telephoto lenses trained on the comings and goings through the main entrance. The phone rang constantly and Madge, the receptionist, had given up being polite to the journalists that called. I’d had to run for the staff entrance from the car park this morning, pursued by Dale from the Queenstown Gazette who was chasing an exclusive.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been hounded by journalists, and at least I didn’t have a distressed Matty with me to protect. I sighed. My life ha
d come full circle.

  I stared at the screen in front of me, bringing the ghostly outline of a hand back into sharp focus. The white skeleton stood in stark relief against the grey soft tissues, the fracture a curved black line across one of the bones. This was the third fracture of the day and the latest victim of the ski slopes.

  I double-checked my diagnosis, frustrated with my wandering mind, which was determined to dwell on the Nathan Banks debacle despite my efforts to block it out.

  ‘Jess, the man in bay three needs a buddy strap.’ I handed her the notes.

  ‘Sure. Mark wants to see you.’

  ‘Oh?’ My heart plummeted. I could guess what was coming.

  She touched my arm. ‘How you holding up?’

  I’d told Jess all about the meeting with Nathan, omitting the kiss, of course. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain my participation in that madness—I couldn’t even decipher it myself.

  ‘I’ll survive. I’m more worried about Mum, Dad and Matty.’ I’d spoken to my parents last night and whilst they’d reassured me all was well, tension had laced their voices. If the story of Nathan and I gained any more traction, it was only a matter of time before someone connected the dots to re-open my family’s old wounds.

  Jess nodded, sympathy and understanding sparkling from her pretty eyes.

  ‘I’ll go see what the boss wants. Hopefully it’s not another house call for a mega celebrity.’ I pulled a mock grimace, hoping to ease her worry. ‘See you lunchtime.’

  I located Mark in the treatment room just finishing up with a patient. ‘Let’s grab a coffee, Soph.’

  We made polite, superficial conversation while we waited for our drinks to brew and then carried them to his office. When I was seated opposite him, blowing across the surface of my tea, Mark declared his hand.

  ‘I checked with Madge. You’ve got some unused holiday leave. Do you have plans to take it?’

  My stomach churned. ‘Not all of it. I was going to ask to take my last two weeks off. Jess and I were thinking of having a stopover in LA on the way home.’

  ‘Great idea.’ He rubbed at his bottom lip with his thumb. ‘Look, Soph. You’re a great doctor. We’ve loved having you here, but I think maybe you should take all of your leave.’ He looked away, finding his desk calendar fascinating.

  ‘Are you firing me?’ My chest was so tight I had to put my tea down in case I passed out and scalded my own lap.

  ‘No. Of course not. You know the score. The clinic is inundated with calls from papers and journalists. Patients have been approached leaving, asked if they were treated by you and could they confirm if you were engaged to Mr Banks.’

  My blood ran cold. ‘I know and I’m sorry, Mark. There’s no truth to those stories and I’ve discussed this with Mr Banks.’

  ‘I know, I know. I feel responsible. I sent you out to the lodge, after all. It should have been me who treated him. You know, if it hadn’t been parents’ evening at school, I’d have gone myself.’

  ‘I didn’t mind going. I wish I could do something about the stupid story. But I can’t. Mr Banks says the more we deny it, the more believable it seems.’ I dropped my head to stare at my lap.

  His silence was ominous. ‘Well, there is something you can do. Use up your leave. Travel. Go home early. Spend time with your family. We’ll miss you, of course, but I think it’s for the best.’

  This couldn’t be happening. ‘But you’ll be understaffed. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.’

  He shook his head, dismissing my concern. ‘Soph. I can’t force you. But please think about it.’ He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. ‘We’ll manage. And we won’t have to deal with complaints and journalists and the police.’

  I bit down on my lip, tasting blood. My voice cracked with the burden of responsibility. ‘I’m so sorry, Mark.’

  ‘No apologies necessary. I sent you there. I feel responsible.’ The comforting hand he laid on my shoulder did little to quell the devastation ripping me apart. With the exception of my family, my job meant everything to me. It was all I had. This was the second time in my life I found myself at the mercy of the world’s media and neither time had been from any wrongdoing on my part.

  ‘Take the rest of the day off. Go home. Book a holiday or an early flight back to the UK. Put this behind you and move on to your new job with a clean slate.’ Mark’s sympathetic eyes crushed me.

  I took his advice, gathering my belongings and leaving the clinic. When I spotted the photographer lurking in the park across the road, I feared it wouldn’t be quite so easy to achieve the clean slate Mark advised.

  ***

  I was trapped. A caged animal pacing the enclosure I’d been forced into and hissing at anyone who came too close to the bars of my prison.

  The doorbell rang with monotonous regularity throughout the following day. When Jess arrived home from work she’d found me buried under my duvet wearing headphones. Unable to take any more of my ranting and obsessive checking of the street for photographers, Jess had insisted we get out of the house for a few hours.

  We’d bundled up, pulling hats low over our heads, and made a dash for Jess’s car. After driving around for an hour to ensure we weren’t being followed we circled back to Jess’s favourite Japanese restaurant, where she promised me warm sake and some peace from the hounds hunting us.

  ‘So, What’ll you do?’ Jess sipped her sake, her cheeks pink from the kick of alcohol.

  I sighed. ‘What choice do I have? I can’t work here. I can’t sit around imprisoned in the apartment. I’ll go mad.’ I shuddered. Today had been one of the longest days of my life. No amount of exercise or housework could distract me from my lack of options. ‘This was what my teenage years were like. I hate it.’

  Jess tilted her head to the side, flashing me a weak smile and urging me to continue.

  ‘Matty and I were just kids. We didn’t know anything. But it didn’t stop them chasing us, asking if we’d known our father had stolen that money. Sticking cameras in our faces as we struggled to get on the school bus.’

  Jess knew my situation. I’d once told her I was the daughter of Paul King, disgraced politician and cheating love-rat. ‘I couldn’t protect Matty. He’d get upset. In the end, my parents moved him to a special school two hours away from home.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Soph. It must have been hard on you. But you know it wasn’t your job to protect Matty—you were just a kid, too.’ She’d remembered the stories from the news at the time—how my father had started an affair with a woman who’d gone on to embezzle money from the party coffers.

  I shrugged. ‘Helps you find out who your real friends are. I didn’t have that many, as it turned out.’ I tore at a paper napkin, my mind drifting back to the years of loneliness, bullying and name-calling.

  Jess reached for my hand, stilling my restless fingers. ‘How are things at home?’

  ‘Pretty bad.’ I winced. My father had never quite forgiven himself for the indiscretion he’d committed, which had thrown our family into turmoil. This latest reminder, all these years later, weighed heavily on him. ‘I’m worried about his angina but Mum tried to reassure me.’

  ‘Did you look at flights back?’

  ‘Yes. The earliest one available is Sunday. I’m on the cancellation list, but everything is full until then.’

  What a mess. Jess and I had come here for a life experience—a chance to live and work in this beautiful part of the world. Now I was leaving my friend and my job. All because of Nathan Banks.

  I followed Jess’s gaze to the pile of shredded paper napkin in front of me and shrugged, pushing the pieces aside. ‘We could still go to LA if you want? I’ll meet you there.’ Guilt forced my thumbnail between my teeth.

  ‘Yeah, great. Listen, fuck Nathan Banks! Let’s enjoy your last few days in New Zealand.’ She topped up my sake and raised a toast. ‘To us. To new adventures and holidays in LA.’

  ‘Cheers!’

  By the time our food arrived, we
were giggly drunk and Jess flirted shamelessly with the waiter. With a full stomach and nice little buzz running through me, I sat back and glanced out at the lights twinkling on the water’s edge. For the first time in days I felt relaxed, hopeful even. With any luck, this time next week I’d be back home, all of the drama would be over and stitching up Nathan Banks would be a vague memory.

  The buzz of moments ago fizzled out only to return again like a forest fire as I recalled the angry kiss we’d shared at the lodge. I longed to blame him—to claim I was a victim of his arrogant belief that all women wanted him. But my fingers remembered the grasp they’d had on the silky strands of his hair, and I could still feel the imprint of his rigid flank muscles on my inner thighs where I’d locked my legs around his hips.

  When I peeked at Jess, she grinned at me. ‘You’ve got to admit though, he’s seriously hot.’

  I busied myself with straightening my chopsticks to hide the flush creeping up my neck. ‘Who?’

  ‘Nathan Banks. I mean, if you’re going to be falsely associated with a celebrity, he’s the ultimate prize, isn’t he?’

  I pushed my plate aside. ‘Jess …’

  ‘Too soon to joke about it?’

  How could I deny her? My lips twitched. She was right—Nathan was the ultimate. The memory of him shirtless and sweat-slicked from running would live with me forever.

  ‘Did you see him in his last movie? Wow, that body.’ She rolled her eyes, her dreamy expression revealing the track her thoughts took. ‘What a shame you’re being accused but you’ve never even sampled the goods.’

  If not for the sake, I’d have kept my mouth shut, but the memory of his lips ravaging mine as he took his revenge was so fresh, I blurted the words before I could screen them. ‘Well, actually …’

  ‘What?’ Jess sat upright, knocking the table and rattling the glassware. ‘Are you kidding me?’ She reached for my hand, squeezing my fingers with bruising force. ‘When?’

  I was such a lightweight when it came to alcohol—two drinks and I’d blab anything to my inquisitive friend. ‘Don’t get excited.’ I leaned forward. ‘It was just a kiss.’