Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal

by Louisa George

  *

  For God’s sake, leave.

  It made no sense to Sean that he wanted to hate Isabel Delamere, but couldn’t. She peered up at him with questions in her eyes. And he didn’t know the answers. Couldn’t tell her any more than that he was crazy with the seesawing of his head, the push-pull of attraction.

  As she reached for his coat her robe fell open a little and he looked away, not willing to glimpse something so intimate. He did not want to be intimate with her; he knew what price that came with. And it was way too high for him—long, long years of getting over her. But too late, he’d caught sight of creamy skin, a tight nipple bud. And a riot of fresh male hormones arrowed to his groin.

  He needed to get out.

  That was about as far as his thoughts went as he lowered his mouth. She gasped once she realised what he was offering. Then her lips were on his and his brain shut down.

  The kiss was slow at first, testing. A guttural mewl as his tongue pressed against her closed mouth. But when she opened to him the groan was very definitely his. The push of her tongue against his caused a rush of blood and heat away from his brain and very fast headed south. She tasted divine. She tasted of wine and sophistication. Of anger and heat. She did not taste like he remembered, a sixteen-year-old girl fresh from school. She was different, hot, hungry, and very definitely all grown woman. And he wanted to feast on her.

  ‘Oh, God, Isabel…’ Dragging his mouth from hers, he kissed a trail down to the nape of her neck, his fingers grazed the edge of the robe and he slid his hand onto the bare skin of her waist and drew her closer. She softened against him with a moan and everything finally made sense. This was what he needed. She was what he needed. The chaos swirling in his chest cemented into a stark hunger as he slid fingers over silken skin.

  She pulled back with a smile. ‘Wait a minute… I’m here wearing relatively nothing, and you’re dressed for an igloo. Too. Many. Clothes.’ She unwound his scarf and threw it to the floor, pushed his coat from his shoulders and let it fall. Her hands stalled at his shoulders; she stroked the thick fabric of his shirt, down his arms to his hands, which she clasped into hers. ‘I can’t believe…after all this time…is it what you want? Am I, what you want?’

  ‘Do you even need to ask?’ He pulled her back to him, felt her melt against his body as he plundered her sweet mouth. The smell of her drove him wild, but the taste of her pushed him close to a place he’d never been before. God, yes, he wanted her, wanted to be inside her, to hear her moan his name, to feel her around him.

  She wound her hands around his neck and pulled him closer, grinding her hips against his. He had no doubt that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and that stoked even more heat in his belly.

  Unable to resist any longer, he dragged the bathrobe from her shoulders and lay her down on the bed as she fumbled with his shirt, dragging it over his head. He kicked off shoes and socks, dragged down his jeans and then they were naked. Like all those years ago. But this was not the same. She was not the same. And he had so much more experience now—no clumsy fumblings, no teenage angst. He knew how to please a woman and he intended to please Isabel.

  Taking a moment, he gazed at her face, at the kiss-swollen lips, and misted eyes. At the soft, sexy smile that spurred him on, that made him weak-kneed. Then he looked lower, wanting to feast his gaze on a body that he hadn’t seen in seventeen years. And to learn about her. To relearn what she liked. To acquaint himself with the new dips and curves, with the smooth, silky feel of her skin. The perfect breasts, a tight belly that belied a miscarriage, that a baby had been inside her.

  His baby.

  At once he was filled with profound and gut-wrenching emotion—she’d been through too much on her own. He should have been there with her. He should have done something. He should have known—somewhere deep within himself he should have intuitively known that she was suffering, that a part of him was inside her and broken. That she’d carried that guilt around with her for all these years, too afraid to speak of it, too scarred to share it. Until he’d pushed her…that secret was theirs, only theirs.

  The emotion had a name—he didn’t want to think about it.

  Pushing a curl of hair behind her ear, he gave her a gentle kiss on her mouth. ‘Izzy, we can’t do this.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘YOU’RE FREAKING KIDDING ME, right?’ Isabel drew away from the best kiss of her entire life and took a deep breath. ‘What do you mean? You just said you wanted to…’

  ‘I do want to. I just don’t think we should. It’s late. We’re probably drunk. We have to work tomorrow. And there’s too much baggage and history that sits right here.’ He pointed to the space between them. ‘Getting in the way.’

  Instead of feeling frustrated, she felt a rush of affection. God love him, he was trying to do right by her. And okay, well, she had to admit there was a teeny hint of frustration there. Wriggling closer to him, she smiled, relishing the touch of hot bare skin against hers. ‘Oops, that baggage and history just got squashed under my gargantuan ar—’

  ‘Whoa, Izzy.’ His eyes lit up, the darkness she’d seen momentarily before now gone, replaced with humour and heat. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’

  ‘I’ve never felt like this before.’ It was true. Suddenly so hot, so alive and fired up, Isabel stroked down his naked chest. Abs that she’d never seen before, honed to perfection. Arms so muscled and strong that she felt featherlight and ethereal in his embrace. A sun-kissed chest she wanted to shelter against, to kiss, to lick… She’d never wanted a man so much in her whole life. Truth was, she’d never stopped wanting him.

  He was right. What a waste of all those years. Of running and hiding and trying to cover up real deep-down feelings. Of being so, so frightened of falling in love and risking her heart all over again. ‘Don’t stop. We can do this. We can do what we want. Don’t wrap me up in cotton wool, Sean. Don’t treat me any differently to any of your other—’

  ‘There are no others.’

  ‘Liar.’ She knew he was attractive to every damned woman he gave five minutes’ attention to and knew, too, through the MMU grapevine, that he had a history of breaking hearts. Couldn’t commit. Never gave a reason why.

  ‘No. Not any more.’ He frowned but his hand stroked the underside of her breast, sending shivers of desire rippling through her. How could she have lived her whole life never having him again? How could she have survived? Being in his gaze felt as if she’d come home to a warm cocoon after being out in a freezing wilderness. Sure, there were things to work out. A lot of things. But right now, in this room at this moment, it felt so right to be with him.

  ‘And Vivienne?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake. She is nothing to me.’

  ‘In that case…’ she pressed a kiss onto his creased forehead ‘…forget the past.’

  Then, she pressed a finger to his mouth to prevent him from speaking as she kissed each of his eyelids. ‘You don’t know me. Not really. You don’t know who I am, what I want, what I need.’ Her finger ran along the top of his lip; she laughed as he tried to nip it with his teeth. ‘Or what I like, Sean.’

  ‘Izzy…’ There was a warning in his voice.

  ‘This. Is. New. Everything starts from now.’ A kiss onto the tip of his nose. ‘Hi, my name is Isabel. Isabel, not Izzy. I am an obstetrician and I live in Cambridge, England. I’m here in Paris at a conference and I want to have some extracurricular fun.’

  Then she licked across his lips, hungry, greedy for his mouth. ‘I’m very, very pleased to meet you.’ Her hand stroked down his stomach towards a very-pleased-to-see-her erection. She touched the tip and enjoyed the sound his throat made as he growled her name in warning.

  ‘Isabel, you want to watch what you do with that. It’s got a mind of its own.’

  ‘How very convenient.’ She bent and licked the tip, then took him full into her mouth ignoring his protestations, and pushing him back against the duvet. She could feel he was
holding back a thrust so she sucked down his length again and again, his throaty groans spurring her on. She loved the taste of him, the hard length. She loved that she could make him feel so good.

  ‘Izzy.’ His hand grasped her hair and she stopped. ‘Isabel. You’d better stop.’

  As she paused he shifted position, edging away from her grasp and sucking a nipple into his mouth. Heat shimmied through her. She arched her back, greedy for more, for his mouth on her body, on every part. Hot and wet. His fingers now on her thigh, higher, deeper, sinking into her core. And she was kissing him again, exploring this new taste that was laced with an old memory. His smell that was different yet familiar. His touch…my God, his touch was expert now. He knew just how to take her to the edge and tease. His erection was dangerously, enticingly close, nudging against her opening.

  ‘You still like this?’ He pressed a fingertip into her rib and she screamed.

  ‘Stop that! No tickling. Kiss me.’ She didn’t want to relive anything; she wanted to create new experiences, to build fresh memories. She didn’t want to look backwards. She wanted…she wanted him inside her. For a second she was serious, the most serious she’d been in a long time. Made sure she looked deep into his eyes and told him the truth. There had been too many lies between them. ‘I want you, Sean. I want you so much.’

  ‘Back at ya, kiddo.’ This new kiss was slow and hard, Sean taking his time as he stoked a fire that had smouldered over the last year, burst into roaring flames over the last week and was now burning out of control. She moved against him, feeling the pressure of him, hot and hard, against her thigh.

  ‘Condom?’ he groaned, his forehead against hers. Eyes gazing down at her, startling in their honesty.

  ‘Yes.’ She held his gaze. The last time they’d done this had ended in such heartbreak. Was it so stupid to be doing it again? To risk everything once more?

  He touched her cheek as if he could read her thoughts, his smile genuine, so loving and tender it almost cracked her heart. When had he become so thoughtful? So sexy and so within reach? When had he become so expert at knowing what a woman needed? When had he changed? Her throat filled because she knew the answer: in those wilderness years, without her.

  His voice was soft yet filled with affection that went deeper than sex. ‘It’s okay, Isabel, it won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.’

  Neither would she. ‘Of course.’ And if a baby did happen again she would tell him, she wouldn’t hide anything from him. This time she’d be honest. ‘In my…in my bag.’

  ‘In my wallet.’ He reached down, took out a foil, and slipped on the condom. Then he was pushing into her, slow and gentle, and she felt him fill her. So perfect. So complete. She wrapped her legs around his backside to feel him deeper. Harder.

  ‘Oh, my God, Isabel. You are so perfect. So beautiful.’ He began slow thrusts, his fists holding her wrists above her head, snatching greedy, playful bites at her nipples and her breasts. She felt captured, captivated, possessed by him. This man. This wondrous man whom she had broken as much as she was broken. And yet he put her back together again with this act.

  The moves changed and the air charged. He stopped the playfulness as he kissed her hot and hard and wet. Sensation after sensation pulsed through her. She was hanging on by a thin thread. His body tensed; she could feel pressure rising as she met him thrust for thrust, joining the rhythm as he picked up pace.

  His eyes didn’t leave hers. His hands didn’t release hers. And as they both shuddered to climax—releasing the tension coiled so deep between them for so long—she wished, God how she wished, she had never let him go.

  *

  ‘Well, wow.’ Sean shifted to Isabel’s side and stroked her cheek. It was the first time he’d seen her looking so bone-deep relaxed. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She shuffled into the crook of his arm, blonde hair splayed out over the pillow. ‘That was very lovely, thank you.’

  ‘Your manners are impeccable. Daddy would be proud. You sound very English all of a sudden.’ He pretended to look under the duvet. ‘Where’s my Aussie girl gone?’

  ‘I’m still here.’ She stroked fingertips gently down his chest, her voice a whisper. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘So you are.’ Something he’d never believed possible had been possible. He tipped her chin and kissed her again. She returned the kiss eagerly. It had been amazing and surprising that intensity went so deep. A dream. Something he’d imagined for years. Making love into the night, no reason to leave. Hours and hours stretched ahead of them. Days, years. A lifetime. He’d never had the chance to do this before. Time together had been so limited, snatched moments that had ended in disaster.

  He felt frustration begin to roll through him. But tried to push it back.

  He wondered when he’d be able to stop thinking about the baby. The lie. He wondered if he’d ever be able to truly move on now that he knew, and he realised that moving on was something Isabel had been trying to do when she’d moved to Cambridge. It wasn’t to get away from him; it was to restart her life.

  So lying in bed with him probably wasn’t what she’d had planned. Or him, either. In fact, this whole sex thing had pushed them across a line now and made things even less clear than they were before. And even though he’d lain awake in many other women’s beds over the years trying to work out just how to leave, he’d never felt so conflicted about his next step.

  Everything he’d said was true. She was perfect. She was beautiful. She was so much more than he’d imagined. And he’d wanted her so badly, for so long. All those years of wondering, of dating other women, of trying to put her behind him. But it had been pointless because the attraction was still there. The need. The visceral tug towards her—even though there was danger with every step.

  He wanted to think there could be a future, but he couldn’t get past the fact that she’d treated his heart with so little respect before—would she do the same again? Did he even want to give her the chance? Had it, in the end, just been sex for old times’ sake?

  Like he was even going to ask that dumb question. He didn’t want to contemplate what her answer might be.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Her voice brought him back to the now.

  ‘That you, missy, have a very important presentation in a few hours and you need to get rested up before it.’ He started to pull the sheet back ready to make his leave. They both needed time to get their heads around this whole new complication. Well, he did, that was for sure. What did he actually want now? Other than a rerun of ten minutes ago.

  But before he could stand up her fingers slowly tiptoed across his thigh. She spoke, her words punctuated by soft kisses down his chest. ‘For some reason…I’m just not…sleepy.’ Her fingers connected with his now growing erection. Because he was, after all, just a red-blooded man with the most beautiful woman in the entire universe lying naked next to him. Oh, and a whole host of emotions swimming across his chest. Yeah, his body still wanted her, regardless of the past. It was his head that was causing trouble.

  Her voice was a warm breeze over his skin, tender yet filled with a promise. ‘Don’t know about you, Seany Boy, but exercise always makes me sleep so much better. And short of going downstairs to the hotel gym, I can only think of one kind of exercise we could do at this time of night. You?’

  ‘Isabel—’ He turned, then, with gargantuan effort, to tell her. To put some distance between his feelings and his needs. But the trill of her mobile phone jolted her upright.

  ‘Oh. Who could that be at this time?’ Wrapping a sheet round her, she grabbed her bag from the floor next to the bed and pulled out her phone. ‘It’s Isla. What would she—? Oh? The baby? D’you think?’ Throwing Sean an apologetic look, she pointed to the phone. ‘I’m so sorry…but I’ve just got to get this. I won’t be long.’

  And so he was surplus to requirement. It was a decent enough excuse to regroup and rethink. To get the hell out, and work out what to do nex
t.

  *

  Isabel watched the door close behind Sean and blew out a deep breath. Getting her head around whatever the hell had just happened would have to be banked until after she’d spoken to Isla. But she got the feeling he hadn’t been able to get away quickly enough. Maybe he was having second thoughts, too? ‘Isla? Isla, are you okay?’

  ‘Isabel. Oh, my God, Isabel.’ The line was crackly but she could still hear her sister’s voice filled with wonder. ‘He’s beautiful. Perfect. I can’t believe. Oh…’

  ‘You’ve had the baby?’ Isabel’s heart swelled and she fought back tears. Her sister was a mother. She hadn’t been there for her. Her mouth crumpled as she forced words out. ‘Oh, sweetie. How was it? Are you okay? Is he okay? A name? What happened—aren’t you early? Was Alessi there?’

  Clearly having a better handle on things than Isabel, her sister drew a sharp intake of breath and began, ‘Okay, I can’t remember which question was first. You have a nephew. A gorgeous, gorgeous nephew, all fingers and toes accounted for and lots of dark hair like his daddy. Born three hours ago.’

  ‘Oh, wow. Three hours? You were going to phone me when you went into labour.’ Isabel stopped short. Three hours ago she was busy. With Sean. Speaking to her sister wouldn’t have been the best thing to happen. But maybe if they had been interrupted she wouldn’t now have these weird mixed emotions whirling through her chest. What they’d done had made things more complicated, not less. ‘Oh, wow, I’m so happy for you. Mega congratulations, little sis.’

  ‘It was all so quick, and I couldn’t remember the time difference with my scrambled mummy brain—and the labour drugs—and your last email said you were going to Paris? So I wasn’t sure—’

  ‘Yes. I am. Je suis ici—in Paris.’ Having sex with my ex. And now I want to talk about it, but I can’t. Bad timing. All round. ‘So, what was your labour like? Textbook? Knowing you it was probably textbook.’

  ‘Quit schmoozing. It was okay. No, actually it hurt like hell…’ There was a pause. ‘Iz, are you okay with me talking to you about this? I mean…you know…because of before?’