by Radclyffe
“Can’t. I already tried that.” Jude noted that Sax looked pretty much as she always did, unruffled and in control. It was infuriating—nothing ever seemed to faze her. “You know, I don’t think I ever remember you going to bed at night.”
“No?” Sax asked, her voice rising in quiet incredulity.
“I meant when you were here working,” Jude replied, blushing, remembering very clearly the two of them sleeping in each other’s arms. It surprised her that Sax would refer even obliquely to that night they had spent together. She had assumed that Sax would simply forget it and move on, even though she couldn’t forget it. Was she wrong in thinking that Sax had forgotten, or at least wanted to?
“Would you like a game?” Sax inquired, gesturing to the board. It wasn’t the time or the place to explain about why she was often up around the clock, and she doubted it ever would be.
“Why not?”
“Well, one good reason might be that my ego is fragile, and I can only take losing so many times,” Sax remarked dryly. “On the other hand, considering that you’re so exhausted you’re about to fall down, I’m hopeful that I’ll have an advantage.”
“I know that’s not it,” Jude said softly as she approached, remembering the almost courtly way Sax had offered her the borrowed clothes that morning at Maddy’s after her shower. It had been both touching and heartbreaking, because all she had wanted was for Sax to reach for her. She had only needed the weakest excuse to let the towel fall. Strange how she was learning to regret not the actions she had taken, but the things she’d left undone. “You’re too chivalrous to take advantage.”
As if reading Jude’s mind, Sax recalled those precarious few moments two days ago when her desire warred with caution. She blushed, and the fact that she did surprised her more than anything she could remember. As Jude crossed the room to her now, she pictured her fresh from the shower, her skin flushed a light rose from the heat and the energy between them, faint beads of water still clinging to the tips of her lashes. So desirable. She ached to touch her just as strongly now as she had that day.
“Sometimes I regret that caution,” Sax murmured, not even realizing she had spoken aloud.
“Do you?” Jude stood very close by.
“Yes,” Sax whispered, glancing up into Jude’s green eyes.
The moment held, grew—shimmering in the air around them, incandescent with silent yearning. Jude smiled wistfully and Sax smiled back, a faint curve of mouth that spoke of uncertainty and regret.
“Shall we play?” Jude asked.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
August 7, 4:59 a.m.
“Checkmate.”
“No.”
“Sorry.”
Sax pushed back in her chair with a sigh, arched her back to work out the kinks she had acquired in the last two hours, and rubbed her face vigorously with both hands. “Well, that was pathetic.”
“Not really,” Jude said sincerely. Then, fixing Sax with a pointed stare, she added, “And you know it.”
“Okay,” Sax amended with a grin, “but it would have been less pathetic if I’d won a game.”
“You came clos…uh, closer.”
“Uh-huh,” the surgeon agreed with a grimace. “Closer being the operative word. You take no prisoners, Ms. Castle.”
“I didn’t expect you’d want me to.”
“You’re right, I don’t. I want to be killed cleanly and with as little suffering beforehand as possible.”
“I’ll remember that,” Jude replied with a smile.
She glanced at the clock, already regretting that their private interlude would soon be interrupted by the morning routine. Any minute now, Sax would announce it was time for her to go to the TICU for rounds, and the quiet spell of peaceful communion would be broken. Odd, how relaxed Sax had seemed the last few hours. Of all the things Jude would call the formidable surgeon, relaxed was not one of them. It was nice, very nice, to be alone with her like this.
“Let’s get some air,” Sax suggested, reluctant to say goodbye. She didn’t need to look at a watch to know the time; in fact, she never wore one. She always knew. “The sun’s about to come up.”
Jude was too surprised at the invitation to answer with more than a quick nod as Sax jumped to her feet. Where does she get the energy? Walking quickly to keep pace, Jude resisted the urge to reach out and hold her hand. Just to touch her.
A few minutes later, they stood side by side on the rooftop wall, resting on folded arms, watching the sky threaten to burst into color. It was serene in the way those last few moments of the night can be just before morning breaks and the demands of the day begin.
“What will you do today?” Jude asked. She probably shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know where Sax went—what she did—when she changed into her jeans and walked out the door. What do you think? Who do you touch?
“After rounds?” Sax mused, staring straight ahead, caught off guard by the question. “Stop by the office, check in with Naomi. Make sure everything is under control there. If it’s not too hot later, maybe go for a run in the park.” She turned her head to study Jude. I’ll wish we were on the cycle headed for—anywhere—as long as it’s just us. As long as you lean against my back and wrap your arms around me. “How about you?”
“Mel and I will review some footage. I’ll stop by the office, check with my secretary and the production crew. Make sure everything is under control there. If it’s not too hot later, maybe go to the gym.”
Sax grinned a little ruefully. “That’s scary, you know?”
“Yes,” Jude agreed solemnly, “it is.”
“Can I buy you lunch somewhere?” Sax asked impulsively. Before there was time for an answer, the sun crowned behind Jude’s shoulder, and the light against the side of Jude’s face made her glow. Softly, without thinking, Sax murmured, “Jesus—you’re beautiful.”
“The air must be thinner up here on the roof,” Jude whispered, watching Sax’s gaze flicker over her face, down her body. “Because it seems to do something to your judgment. As in, it disappears.”
“Just mine?” Sax asked, the long supple fingers of one hand tracing the edge of Jude’s jaw, ending with a fingertip against the corner of her mouth. “Or does that include you, too?”
“It definitely includes me,” Jude said huskily, turning her head to catch Sax’s finger between her lips. Gently, she bit it.
“Then I...think,” Sax gasped, “we’ll be safe, if...we...stick together.”
“You, Dr. Sinclair,” Jude stated ominously, stepping close and placing both hands on the back of Sax’s neck, “are absolutely anything...but...safe.”
Their lips were too close for anything but the kiss that began hungry and rapidly became more. Their bodies fused along every sinewy plane, and their embrace pulled flesh to flesh in a perfectly matched eruption of desire. Jude moaned, or it might have been Sax, as their hands lifted shirts to slide under—stroking skin—and their hips thrust slowly—stoking fire.
“You make me crazy,” Sax breathed into Jude’s ear. “Like nobody ever. Do you know that?”
“Am I supposed to apologize?” Jude murmured, running her tongue lightly over Sax’s neck. “Because I don’t intend to.” She was having trouble keeping her balance because her thighs were trembling, and some part of her brain registered a dangerous rush of blood into a very concentrated spot between her legs. Her ears began buzzing as Sax’s hand slipped upward to cup her breast. With the last fragment of her reasoning mind, she choked out, “You can’t do that to me here.”
“Why not?” Sax growled against her mouth. “Just give me a minute.”
Jude rocked back, her eyes hazy. “Because it won’t take a minute.”
“Even better.”
“Sax,” Jude warned, stilling Sax’s hand with her own, “if you keep it up, you’ll have to carry me down the stairs. I’ll never be able to walk.”
<
br /> “I can’t now,” Sax murmured, watching Jude’s lips and imagining them on her flesh, easing her torment with knowing strokes. “I’m already too hot, too swollen, and—”
Jude pressed her fingers to Sax’s lips. “Stop. Right. There.” She felt Sax’s smile curve under her fingertips. “Hold that thought...”
“Which one?”
“The one that just made your eyes go purple,” Jude breathed.
“That would be the one where your mouth was on me and—”
“Enough,” Jude groaned. “I mean it. I’ll have a stroke.”
“That’s okay. I’m a doctor.”
“I want you,” Jude said very clearly, her gaze locked on Sax’s. “I want you so much I can’t think. But even if it’s quick, it won’t be enough. I won’t be able to stop if we start.”
“When?” Sax asked urgently. “This morning, this afternoon? Forget lunch, we’ll...”
“Sax,” Jude said softly, regretfully, “I can’t today. Tonight...”
Sax’s eyes darkened with something that might have been disappointment, but before Jude could explain, the code beeper blared.
“Son of a bitch,” Sax cursed, already moving away, and Jude knew that when she caught up to her, there would be no time for explanations.
The day had dawned with a vengeance.
August 7, 11:47 a.m.
Jude stood naked by the bed, toweling her wet hair as the door to the on-call room opened.
“Oops, sorry,” Melissa said, quickly backing away, pulling the door closed.
“It’s okay,” Jude called. “I’m getting dressed right now.”
Slowly, Melissa stepped back inside, grinning sheepishly. “I didn’t know, you know.”
“And if you had?” Jude snapped crossly. “Aren’t we both a bit beyond adolescent peek and grope games, for God’s sake?”
Melissa gaped, at a loss for words. There was fury in those green eyes.
Jude threw the towel on the floor and reached for her clothes, pulling on her underwear before glancing at Mel again. When she saw her friend’s stricken expression, she stopped, one leg in her jeans, the other still bare. “I’m sorry, Mel. Damn, I really am.”
Melissa sat down on the end of the other bed. “You want to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been upset since you got here yesterday morning, but this—I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Are Sinclair and Deb still in the operating room with that gunshot wound?”
“Yes, and you’re changing the subject. Or avoiding the question. One of those.”
“Not really.” Jude smiled reluctantly. “I’m angry because I have a luncheon date with Lori, and I wanted to see Sax before I left, and now I won’t be able to.”
“Do you want me to give her a message?”
“Yeah.” Jude pulled on her shirt. “Tell her I’m crazy about her, and I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get my hands on her soon.”
Melissa stared, astounded. Jude’s statement was so out of character she couldn’t even feel jealous. “Um...which one am I giving that message to? Lori or Sinclair?”
For a long moment Jude was silent, the words she had spoken echoing in her head. Then, knowing with irrefutable clarity that she had meant every one, she sighed with something very close to peace.
“Sax.”
“Whoa.”
“Uh-huh, that about sums it up,” Jude agreed. She crossed the room to sit next to Melissa on the bed.
“How much have I missed?” Mel asked. “Like when, where, and how in the hell did you pull this off?”
“Two days ago, a motel, and I have no idea.”
“Oh my God. You are my queen.” Mel’s voice held a touch of awe.
Jude burst out laughing. “Trust me—you don’t want me in charge the way I’m feeling right now.”
“Which is?”
“Totally unlike myself. Thoroughly irrational, insane—all my nerve endings are raw. I can’t think.”
Well, it’s about fucking time. Melissa chose her words carefully, because the one thing she cared about most was Jude’s feelings. “What does Sinclair say to all of this?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Melissa asked incredulously. “You two haven’t talked about it?”
“Not exactly, no,” Jude replied. “Well, exactly no, really. It happened out of the blue, and then we were both—I don’t know—afraid of it, maybe? I know I was thrown by how...strongly I felt. How incredibly, unbelievably, ama—”
“I got the picture, Jude,” Melissa interrupted dryly.
“I’m sorry, Mel. I don’t know how to explain because I’ve never experienced anything quite so...so...disorienting and unexpected.”
Love, Jude. That’s love.
Melissa got up and began to pace, working to separate her own underlying disappointment from her desire to be a friend. She’d always known, deep inside, that nothing would ever come of her unrequited passion for Jude, but seeing her now, hearing her talk about Sinclair, she felt the loss just the same.
Refocusing, she asked, “And you’re meeting Lori today?”
Jude glanced at her watch and began gathering her things to leave. “In exactly twenty-seven minutes.”
“What are you going to say?” Melissa queried.
“The truth, I hope, as soon as I figure out what that is.”
*
Lori put down her fork and signaled the waiter.
“Check, please,” she said when he drew near. As she counted out bills, she spoke to Jude without looking up. “Let’s walk, and you can tell me what you want to tell me.”
Jude set her silverware aside. “Lori—”
“You called and said you wanted to talk,” Lori pointed out reasonably as she put the check and the money on the table. “I can tell you’re not interested in lunch. It’s also the second meal in a row where you haven’t eaten, and I’m going to start taking it personally. Let’s get out of here.”
Jude could only agree, so she followed Lori outside into the midday sun. “We’d better at least find some shade in the park,” she suggested as they crossed the street in front of the Plaza Hotel and walked toward Central Park.
“Good idea. So,” Lori asked, “what is it?”
Jude intended to tell her as much as she knew herself, and she didn’t know any other way except to say it directly. “I’ve met a woman. We’re not involved exactly, but we’ve slept together.” She glanced at Lori’s face, not knowing what to expect.
“Go ahead,” Lori said softly, her expression serious.
“I...I want to see more of her,” Jude continued, her feelings becoming clearer as she spoke. She laughed deprecatingly. “I’m not good at juggling two relationships. Hell, I’m not good with one. I needed you to know about this.”
“Why don’t we sit down over here.” Lori indicated a wooden bench under the shade of a maple as Jude took a deep breath. She stretched an arm along the back of the bench and regarded Jude contemplatively. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going.”
“I know it’s...sudden. If I’d had any warning—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lori said. “I’m glad you’re telling me. I’m just concerned about why.”
Jude stared, thoroughly confused.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen someone else since we’ve been dating?” Lori asked.
“Yes.”
“We never said we’d be monogamous. I’ve seen other women on occasion the last few months. Not steadily, but now and then. When you’ve been away or just...busy. I assumed you were doing the same when I didn’t see you for a while.”
“No, I just didn’t,” Jude said with a shrug. “Honestly, I really was busy, and what we had was fine.”
“So, what’s changed? Why can’t we still see each other? I don’t care if you’re seeing someone else.” Lori laughed briefly and amended, “Well, I care some...but if I had expected monogamy, I would have talked to you about it. I
love your company, and you know I love you in bed. We don’t need to change that.”
Jude nodded, because everything Lori said made sense and she understood it perfectly. But she knew—no, she felt—that what had previously been enough wasn’t now. “This may sound completely ridiculous, because I enjoy seeing you, too, and it’s always been...good...between us physically, but I...I just can’t. I can’t seem to keep her out of my mind.”
“Ah.” Lori heard the tremor in Jude’s voice and knew what she’d left unsaid. “This is serious.”
“I don’t know,” Jude confessed. “Maybe not for her, but it certainly is for me. I need to know what’s happening. I don’t think I’ll feel comfortable dating you until I do.”
“I can’t say I don’t care,” Lori admitted, resting her fingers on Jude’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Jude. If it turns out differently than you expect, if things...don’t go anywhere, will you call me? We have something that works. I’d like to keep it if we can.”
“I’m sorry, if I’ve hurt you.”
Lori shook her head. “I never asked you for more than what we had because I wanted to keep things uncomplicated between us. That was my choice.” She paused, thinking about what she had just said, wondering if she’d been totally honest with herself. “If you’ve found something that you can’t let go of, don’t. Don’t give it up.”
Touched by the faint sadness in her smile, Jude leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
August 7, 5:47 p.m.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that number.”
“Look”—Jude attempted valiantly to contain her temper while reminding herself that it was not Naomi Riley’s fault that she couldn’t find Sax—“it’s important that I talk to her. If you can’t give me her number, how about this—could you page her and ask her to return my call?”
“Yes, I can do that. But I have to warn you, it’s very possible she’s left the city and won’t respond.”
