by Lucy Clark
The kiss was real. This wasn’t her dreaming. Dex’s lips were on hers. Iris wasn’t sure whether to wrap her arms about his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss, or to pull back, putting distance between them and therefore denying what she really wanted.
He’d tried to sneak a kiss once before, wanting to press his lips to hers without her consent, on that very first day they’d met. If he’d had any idea back then just how much Iris Tennant was going to plague his thoughts, he might not have attempted such a crazy stunt. Ever since that moment, he’d been working his way back here, even though he hadn’t realised it until now.
He wanted to kiss her. He’d dreamed about kissing her, about holding her as he was now, about being close, about having the opportunity to taste her. He’d known she’d be gorgeous, her mouth sweeter than any he’d ever kissed before, her lips plump and ripe and, oh, so ready for him. Yet the last time he’d dared to be this close to her, she’d recoiled and slapped him across the face. Dex stilled, unsure what was about to come, waiting to see what she’d do. Was he about to be rejected again?
When she leaned into him, the pressure, oh, so slight and imperceptible, when she shifted her weight to bring their bodies a millimetre closer, when she sighed with utter longing—only then, when he felt her acceptance of what was happening, did he allow himself to move.
She wanted him and he wanted her. Their lives were about to change and both of them knew it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DEX couldn’t believe she was accepting him.
Iris was accepting his advances and something in his heart tightened with delight. He had no idea what was happening between them and he’d never felt this way before.
Her mouth was a perfect fit to his own and he closed his eyes, concentrating on holding her close but not too close, keeping the kiss intense but not too intense, making sure she kept up with him every step of the way. He didn’t want to do anything to frighten her, to make her pull away. Nice and easy. That’s what was required with someone as special as Iris.
The warmth between them increased as his mouth moved over hers, his tongue slipping between her lips. The movements were slow, steady and incredibly seductive. She knew he’d kissed many women before but she didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to think about the scars on her body, or the fact that he was her colleague. She didn’t want to think about anything other than the way Dex was currently making her feel.
The past, the present and the future were all wiped out. At this moment in time it was only the two of them who existed. The two of them who were caught up with such a powerful need. One on one. Each giving, each receiving. She didn’t want to think about the consequences, the ‘what-ifs’ that would undoubtedly come later. She wanted to think about the way she seemed to be as attuned to him as he was to her, about how his body felt beneath her touch.
One hand was on his shoulder for support, the other was pressed to his chest. She opened her fingers, splaying them wide as she allowed her fingers the pleasure of feeling his firm, muscled torso. The cotton of his open-necked shirt was rough and a little coarse but as she moved a little lower, towards the buttons, she knew all of that would be changing soon enough.
She undid one, then two buttons, and it was enough for her to slide her hand underneath, her breath catching as she touched her fingers to his skin. Dex moaned and eased his body back just slightly to allow her more access to him. Iris couldn’t have been happier to realise she affected him. His mouth ravaged her senses, keeping the pressure light yet slow, and she trembled with mounting anticipation.
His chest was smooth, covered with a smattering of hair that only made her fingertips tingle even more as she rubbed back and forth, loving the warmth of skin against skin. It had been so incredibly long since she’d touched a man, so long since she’d been kissed as if she was a desirable woman. Dex had the ability to make her forget everything and she was grateful for that.
Being lost in Dex meant she didn’t have to face any of the plaguing emotions that often left her crying herself to sleep. There was only the two of them, nothing else. The feel, the heat, the touch, the passion. All of them were growing in intensity and she didn’t want it to stop.
‘Iris.’ He whispered her name against her lips but she wasn’t having any of it. Sliding her hand up the expanse of his chest to his neck, she cupped his cheek, her other hand urging his head to stay exactly where it was. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to feel. She hadn’t felt so much in so long and she didn’t want it to end.
The scent of him, the feel of him, the taste of him—all of it was an intoxicating cocktail and much more potent than any bartender could mix. This was Dex and he was kissing her, kissing her as though she were a desirable, beautiful and intelligent woman. Kissing her as though she were the type of woman he usually kissed. Kissing her as though he really meant it.
Right at this moment, as his mouth continued to create sweet torture with hers, his slow and sensual approach winning her over with each passing second, she didn’t care if he was only kissing her because he wanted to know what it was like to kiss a freak. To kiss a woman who was scarred, who had physical reminders of a past trauma.
His mouth was still moving against hers in such perfect synchronicity she was sure she was about to melt at his feet. Fireworks were exploding within her, tingles were spreading through her body, especially when he shifted to press his chest firmly against her own.
On and on the desire raged and Iris couldn’t believe how magnificent he was. She knew these kisses they were sharing probably didn’t mean as much to him as they did to her and in that split second a ridiculous competitive urge kicked in and she found herself deepening the kiss, wanting to take him higher.
The pressure increased, the intensity was more powerful than before, and the passion burst forth as hunger met hunger. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He’d wanted to let Iris know he wasn’t about to take advantage of her. He’d wanted to kiss her, so he had and he’d decided to keep everything light and simple, slow and sensual but this…this deep-seated passion she was sharing with him made the blood pump faster around his body.
Her hands were at the base of his neck, fingers splayed out into his hair, ensuring his head stayed exactly where it was. Her mouth was full of heat and need. The pressure was hard and firm. She was dynamic and he matched her frantic kisses stroke for stroke. They were both in this. They were both feeling the same tumultuous emotions. They both wanted this badly.
Never before had he allowed his need for a woman to drive him over the edge, but Iris was something different. She definitely wasn’t like the other women he’d dated, she was better. She was not only highly intelligent and as sexy as all get-out but she was on the same wavelength as him. She’d been hurt, she’d experienced betrayal and anguish, and whilst their circumstances had been completely different, the emotions were incredibly similar. She understood him without him needing to explain it in fancy terms.
She was wild. Evocative. Delightful…vulnerable.
The silky strands of her long hair sifted through his fingers as, unable to stop himself, he gathered her closer still, running his hands down her back. The scars were there. He could feel them through her long-sleeved cotton shirt and he wanted to see them, to kiss them, to tenderly run his finger along them. They were a part of her natural beauty and he accepted that.
He slid his hands lower, down to where her untucked shirt hung around her derrière. The need to touch her, to feel his hands on her skin as she had done with him, was becoming overwhelming. The heat, the fusion, the power. It was raw and bordering on wild, and the need for touch was too much to deny.
The heat was starting to become unbearable yet he craved it more than anything. She was delicious, attentive and hungry for more. He met that hunger, wanting to provide what she needed and at the same time take what he wanted.
He broke his mouth free from hers but only to place electrifying kisses on her face, her ear
and down her neck. Iris sucked in air as she tilted her head back, allowing him the access he sought. The power surging through them both was equally matched and she held on to those broad, firm shoulders of his, not wanting him to go anywhere.
‘Iris.’ Her name was a husky caress on his lips as he nudged the collar of her shirt aside. He wanted her badly and he needed her to want him just as much.
His name was on her trembling, parted lips. How had he been able to make her lose control, to make her want and to feel as she hadn’t in such a very long time? It was glorious to feel this way, to have his lips creating such havoc with her equilibrium. Her breathing was erratic, her body was a mass of tingles and he was kissing her. Nothing mattered. Just the feel. Just the want. Just the need that both of them shared.
His mouth slid lower at her neck, his hands slid higher at her back, the touch of his hands on her caused a powerful heat to suffuse her entire body…a powerful heat that was followed by a thousand alarm bells.
Her scars!
Iris’s eyes snapped open. His fingers were nanoseconds away from touching the scars on the bared skin of her back. Instant panic replaced the heat and passion that had enthralled her. Her breathing was still erratic but this time it was from fear rather than desire.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No!’
Scrambling to stop him, she put both hands on his shoulders and pushed hard. ‘Stop. Dex. Stop!’ She shoved at him and within the next instant they were both standing there, staring wide-eyed at each other.
‘Iris?’ Dex reached out a hand but she backed off.
‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t?’ Confusion was written all over his face as they both struggled to gain control over their breathing. ‘What’s wrong?’
She couldn’t look at him any more, couldn’t look at the pleading in his eyes as his clouded brain tried to figure out what on earth was going on. Turning away, she forced her wooden legs to move, to put even more distance between them.
‘You need to go.’ Her words were as stilted as the way she walked.
‘Iris. I don’t understand.’ When he tried to come closer, she spun on her heel and put both of her hands up in front of her.
‘Stay back.’ She shook her head as anger fought its way through to become the dominant emotion. She was angry with herself more than him. Angry that she’d allowed herself to give in to the feelings he evoked, angry that she’d let it go too far and angry that she’d shown him such a vulnerable side to herself.
‘Just tell me what’s going on.’ He stood there, bewildered, confused and looking incredibly gorgeous. Iris closed her eyes, needing to shut out the sight of him because one look into those hypnotic brown eyes of his and she knew her anger would immediately dissipate. ‘One second we’re all hot and heavy and definitely on the same page and then…’ He shrugged his shoulders.
‘What? Your ego’s dented because I’ve stopped you?’
Dex exhaled harshly. ‘This has nothing to do with my ego, Iris.’ Exasperation was written all over his face. ‘I want to know what’s going on inside you. What happened? That’s all I’m asking.’
‘So you can rationalise why a woman might reject you? I guess you’re used to women just throwing themselves at your feet. Well, I’m not one of them.’
‘Iris, this is ridiculous.’ He spread his arms wide as though he really couldn’t get a grasp on what was happening. The woman had set him on fire like no other woman had. She’d been with him, step for step, moment for moment, and then—bam! Nothing. Nothing but anger and pain.
‘You’re darned right it is.’
‘Tell me what I did. Did I do something wrong? Did I go too far too fast? If that’s the case, I’m sorry. It’s just that…’ He stopped and raked a hand through his hair.
‘What?’
How could he tell her that she was incredible? That for the first time he’d been able to kiss a woman and not have the distant memory of Catherine plaguing him in the background? The way he felt about Iris was powerful, possessive and passionate. ‘You’re…different.’
Her eyes widened at his words and a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment swamped her. She knew she was different. She was covered in scars and she knew it. What she didn’t need was him pointing it out. She indicated to the door. ‘Get. Out.’
‘What?’ If he’d been confused before, it was nothing compared to now. Why was she angry? His mind searched for an answer, a reason as to how she could have misconstrued his words. ‘You’re different, Iris, because you make me feel so much more than any oth—’
Iris didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear whatever lame-brained excuse he could come up with to try and fix the situation. She was a challenge to him, she could see that now. Make love to the elephant woman. Well, there’d be none of that. Not now. Not ever. If he wasn’t going to leave, she’d do the next best thing. She’d make him go. She stalked to the bedroom, went in and slammed the door behind her, leaning against it to stop him from coming in.
‘Iris.’ His voice was muffled. ‘Is it because of the scars? I don’t care about your scars and when I said you were different, that wasn’t what I meant.’
Iris put her hands over her ears as she slid to the floor. She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear the excuses, the rationalisations, the lies. She just wanted him to go, to leave her alone. For ever.
*
On Tuesday, Iris returned from her first outing as part of the house-call team. She and Melissa had done what they’d termed ‘the baby run’. They’d visited farms, driving to some and going via helicopter to others simply because there were so many women to review and so little time. Lots of pregnant women, lots of newborn babes and lots of children everywhere they went.
‘That’s been one of the best days I’ve had since arriving in Didja,’ Iris declared as Melissa parked the ute next to the apartment block. She wondered whether that was because it had simply been herself and her friend or the fact that she hadn’t had to worry about bumping into Dex.
‘It was a great girly day,’ Lis agreed. ‘And now I think we deserve a treat.’
‘Yeah?’ Iris was interested. ‘What might that be?’
‘A nice cool drink at the pub and then delicious food at Stiggie’s.’
‘That does sound great.’ The enthusiasm fell from Iris’s voice but she smiled to encourage her friend. No doubt Melissa would want to catch up with Joss. After all, the man was her fiancé. If that was the case, the chance of Dex tagging along or being in one of the places Melissa was planning to visit would mean that it would end up being the four of them.
How was Iris supposed to keep her distance from Dex when he was not only Melissa’s brother but Joss’s best friend? She supposed she could plead an excuse and head indoors, holing up in her apartment for the night, but she’d done that too much recently and, besides, she wouldn’t mind having a bit of time to unwind and relax with her friend.
If Dex joined them, well, she’d deal with it. She would be polite. She would be all ease and friendliness. She would not focus on the fact that she wished for his lips to be pressed to hers once more. She would not dwell on the way his hands had felt as they’d caressed her hair, her neck, her body and how, even though she was ugly and scarred, he’d wanted more.
She would not even dwell on the fact that she wished to be in a relationship again. That she longed to be special to someone as she’d been with Tim. Her body was scarred, it was horrible and twisted, and whilst she hated the sight of her flesh, Dex had openly declared that her scars didn’t bother him.
Of course, she knew he’d had to be sweet-talking her but, still, it had been nice to actually hear those words. Unfortunately, those words had given her hope and she knew that one day that hope would come crashing down around her, hurting her once more. Hadn’t she been hurt enough? Why couldn’t she wish for a fairy-tale? One where a knight in shining armour galloped in on his white steed and swept her into his arms, returning them to his castle where h
e would take his time making slow and sweet love to the woman of his dreams.
Life wasn’t fair.
‘So?’ Melissa was looking expectantly at her.
‘Huh? Sorry. I was miles away.’
Lis smiled. ‘I noticed. You had a far-off dreamy look on your face.’ Lis nudged Iris. ‘Not thinking about anyone in particular, eh? Someone like…my brother?’
‘Dex? What? No way. He’s too much a player for the likes of me. Playboys and scarred women don’t mix.’
‘How do you know until you try?’ Melissa smiled and then continued. ‘So? The pub?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’ll just go put the medical bags and the files inside. See you in five minutes?’
‘Sounds great.’ Iris was pleased to have a few minutes alone. Too many thoughts. Too many thoughts of Dex, she corrected. Every time she heard his voice around the clinic, it made her warm with delight. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, whether it was smiling, laughing or pensive, it made her stomach flip-flop with excitement. Every time he looked at her as though he simply wanted to climb across the meeting-room desk and kiss her senseless her heart pounded with longing.
Why did she have to be attracted to him? Why him? What was it about Dex that held so much appeal when she knew he was so incredibly wrong for her? He was a playboy. He knew how to turn on the charm, to make her feel a certain way, to stick in her mind so she never stopped thinking about him.
Iris shook her head, not wanting to dwell on Dex right now. She was going to meet her good friend and cap off a brilliant day with a drink at the pub and a mouth-watering meal. With that, thoughts of Dexter Crawford were relegated to the back of her mind and shoved into a very small corner.
She met Melissa and the two of them set off for the pub. It was full to bursting when they arrived, the February day having been one of the hottest they’d experienced that year. Iris wasn’t surprised to see Dex there, talking to two blonde girls. A pain of rejection and jealousy shot through her and she tried to look away.
