‘I’m leaving now, Archie.’ He reached his hand out to grab the door handle and close the door behind him.
She had one last chance to stop him.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked evenly, even as she reached up to the back of her neck, undid the clasp and let the dress drop to the floor, past the flimsy scrap of electric-blue lace, to pool around the skyscraper heels, which she suddenly didn’t remotely feel silly wearing.
She felt sexy and powerful and wicked.
But Kaspar wasn’t moving. And she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.
* * *
He couldn’t move.
Frozen to the spot, his eyes riveted to the vision in front of him, for the first time in his life Kaspar felt powerless. He should leave. Turn around and walk away. But he couldn’t bear to.
She was sublime. So completely and utterly perfect. The tasselled Latin-dance-style dress might have looked good on her, but they hadn’t flattered the sexy, voluptuous curves of her body anywhere near as generously as they should have. They should have worshipped her...the way he ached to do right at this moment.
The pictures were still on the wall, a mere few feet away, but he couldn’t reconcile the kid in those photos with the woman standing in front him. This one was a siren.
From the long line of her neck, down to glorious breasts, which he hungered to cup, caress, kiss, down to the indent of her waist and the belly button around which he could imagine swirling patterns with his tongue. His eyes dropped lower, appreciative and unhurried, to take in the soft swell of her belly and the sensational flare of her hips, and then the incredible V of her legs where the scrap of blue lace, barely concealing her modesty, only seemed all the more titillating.
‘Tell me you don’t want me, Kasper,’ she murmured. The faintest hint of a quiver in her voice, a moment of uncertainty, only making her all the more irresistible.
His entire body pulled taut. Unequivocal male approbation. God, how he wanted to be where that lace was. With his fingers, his mouth, his sex. He couldn’t recall ever having ached to be with a woman before. Not like this.
‘You know I want you,’ he rasped, unable to keep the admission from spilling from his lips.
‘Then claim me,’ she breathed, offering herself to him.
But now it was about more than just sex. Perhaps it always had been. Perhaps a part of him had known he knew her, even if he hadn’t recognised her. It certainly explained the connection he felt.
And that in itself posed the greatest threat. Archie knew him in a way no one else did. Not the press, and not his previous lovers. And that made her dangerous. Hadn’t she already told him that she knew the playboy image wasn’t really him?
She saw too much. She knew him too well. And that enabled her to slip under his skin every time he wasn’t paying full attention. He certainly couldn’t afford to spend the night with her.
He hadn’t turned himself into the press’s idea of the Surgeon Prince of Persia because he’d wanted to be a playboy. He’d turned himself into that two-dimensional version of himself because, ultimately, it was all he deserved. Because his bad-boy image was the only thing that stopped them painting him out as some kind of surgeon hero. And he wasn’t a hero.
Just ask the family of that kid whose life he’d changed that night in the bar. But the press had never run with that story. They, like the judge, had vindicated him, Kaspar, of all blame. No matter that he had been the one able to walk out of the hospital that night while the other kid hadn’t.
It was why he’d deserved his bad-boy reputation all these years. It was why Archie should stay away from him. And it was why he should walk out of her door now.
But, then, who in their right mind could walk away from someone like her?
Not just because she looked quite like...that. But because there was something more than just the physical, more than the undeniable sexual attraction that crackled between them. There was a connection. He’d felt it on the plane, although it had taken him until now to recognise it for what it was.
Archie knew him in a way that no one else did.
Despite the media’s potted history of his less-than-enviable childhood, pushed and pulled between two parents who had seen him more as a pawn in their sick game than as a flesh-and-blood boy who either of them loved or wanted, it had nevertheless always been somewhat sanitised and glamorised. Entertainment channels ran specials on his actress mother and himself but they had never, ever even come close to how miserable it had actually been.
In many ways he was grateful for that. But Archie wouldn’t be fooled by it. Her father had been the one to save him. She had been there through enough of his childhood to know the truth. Not all of it. No one but him knew all of it. But certainly closer to the truth than anyone else ever could. Or would.
And that was the problem.
He allowed people to paint him as the cad, the womaniser, because that ensured that no one really knew him, understood him, could get close to him. And if they couldn’t do that then they couldn’t get under his skin. He couldn’t bear the idea that anyone could break through his mental armour and make him feel...something...anything because then he’d have to feel all those terrible childhood emotions all over again.
It wasn’t just that he was a danger to Archie...she was a danger to him. To his sanity. And yet he still stood motionless. Powerless to resist her.
‘Come and claim me, Kaspar,’ she repeated, her voice cracking through the command.
He was sure it was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard.
Logic and sense flooded from his brain, something far more base and primal flooding the rest of his body.
‘This can’t lead anywhere, Archie. I fly back to the States next week. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’
‘So you’d better make this the best night of your stay, hadn’t you?’
So damn sassy. So damn sexy.
He heard the deep growl that seemed to come from the vicinity of his throat, was barely conscious of kicking the door closed behind him with an accurate jab of his foot, and found himself striding across the room towards her.
Towards Archie.
Some madness had taken hold of him, he was sure of it. And then Kaspar wasn’t thinking of anything any more. He was dragging her into his arms, moulding her mouth-watering, practically naked body to his, and plundering her too temptingly carnal mouth. And his seductive siren wasn’t remotely shy in her sudden state of undress.
Archie wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself so tightly against him he could almost imagine there wasn’t a barrier of clothes between them at all, and lifted her legs to wrap around his body as he willingly cupped her firm, neat backside.
He kissed her mouth, her neck, every trembling inch of her collarbone, and she matched him. Kissing his jaw, tugging at his ear lobe and rocking her body against his sex until he feared he might not be able to hold on much longer.
‘Which way?’ he managed gruffly, scarcely ripping his mouth from hers.
Her reply wasn’t much clearer.
‘Behind me.’
Obligingly, Kaspar navigated his way to the door, shouldering it open and carrying Archie into the room, smiling at the queen-size bed with its overabundance of scatter cushions.
He lowered her down, less gently than he might have liked, holding himself still while she reached for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them with painstaking care, kissing her way over his chest and abdomen with each new section of bare flesh she exposed. It felt like an eternity before she finally undid the last button and he could shuck off the shirt, but it seemed Archie wasn’t done. She reached for his belt, the crack of leather reverberating around the room as she unbuckled the clasp, followed by the unmistakeable sound of the zip opening.
Kaspar circled her wrist with his fingers and pulled away from her as she pro
tested. He couldn’t afford to let this go any further. He’d never felt such a lack of control, as if he might explode like a hormone-ravaged teenager. This was as much about Archie’s pleasure as his.
He pressed her lightly back onto the bed and covered her body with his, bracing himself as he looked down at her, drinking her in. Marvelling. Every inch of his skin was on fire as Archie ran her fingertips over him, tracing the muscles on his shoulders and down his body.
Heady, and exhilarating, and addictive.
When he cupped her breast, his thumb grazing deliberately against one straining nipple, she gasped, her back arching slightly. Repeating it offered the same glorious result. Then Kaspar lowered his mouth and tasted her as he had in the car, his tongue tracing out an intricate whorl as Archie slid her fingers in his hair and gave herself over to pleasure. He took his time learning every last contour of her breasts, then her abdomen and her hips. Slowly. Thoroughly. Ignoring the almost painful, needy ache of his sex.
Finally, when her soft moans became more urgent, he laid a trail of hot kisses from her navel straight down over her belly and over the top of the flimsiest blue lace panties, which he pulled off in one swift movement. Then he dropped back down to press his mouth to the hottest, slickest, sweetest part of her, making her cry out.
She tasted of fire, and honey, and need. Her hips were moving, dancing with him, as he licked his way into her. Her hands cradled his head, the most beautiful, wanton sounds escaping her mouth almost against her will. It spoke to something utterly primal inside Kaspar. As if he would never get enough.
He kissed, licked, sucked until her hands slid from his hair to clutch the cover of the bed, her hips moving erratically, trying to jerk away.
‘Please, Kaspar...’ She reached for him, but despite the hunger in her voice he had no intention of taking his pleasure yet. This was about Archie.
‘There’s no rush,’ he murmured. ‘We’ve got all night.’
Then, slipping one hand underneath her to hold her in place, he lowered his mouth back down to her intoxicating heat and slid his finger inside her, deep and sure.
Archie shattered, crying out his name as she arched her back and fragmented all around him like some victory he couldn’t identify. He kept it going long after she would have pulled away, making her shudder over and over, murmuring against her and making her come apart again.
And when she finally begged him to release her, he let her go, a satisfaction he couldn’t explain seeping through to his very bones. As well as a slow, deep ache.
* * *
‘That was...’ She floundered for the words to describe the incredible way she felt. Like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Not even close. ‘I feel... You were...’
‘We’re not done yet.’
His voice was gravelly, raw, and still it felt to Archie as though she was taking a lifetime to refocus. Her body felt exhausted, contented. She struggled to lift herself up onto her elbows.
‘We aren’t?’
‘Not by a long stretch.’
She wasn’t sure if it was an avowal or a warning, but the sight of Kaspar standing up, shedding himself of the rest of his clothes until he was naked before her, stole her breath away all over again. His solid physique and utterly male beauty, waiting there just for her, went beyond even her wildest fantasies. Archie let her eyes drop to take in his length, straight and flat against his lower abdomen, as taut and unyielding as a steel blade. Though she would have thought it impossible a moment before, her body gave a fresh kick of lust.
How could it be, after all that, that she wanted him again so instantly?
‘That’s a relief,’ she tried to tease him, but the quake in her voice betrayed her. ‘I was beginning to think that was all you had. After talking yourself up earlier tonight, I was expecting a lot more.’
‘Is that so?’ He arched one eyebrow and she couldn’t contain the gurgle of laughter that rumbled in her chest.
‘It was a...concern.’
Then he was moving back over her, nestling himself between her legs as his hands moved under her shoulders and he rested on his forearms above her.
‘Then let me put your mind at ease. We have a long, long night ahead of us.’
Whatever witty response she might have come out with was chased from her head as he nudged against her hot, wet core. It was too much, and at the same time not enough. She sucked in a deep breath, her legs parting slightly further as his amused eyes caught hers.
‘You were saying?’
She shook her head and bit her lip, unable to speak. And then he thrust into her. Hard and strong and deep, stretching her in a way that felt more delicious than uncomfortable. As though she’d been made for him; they’d been made for each other. She shifted instinctively and he groaned, making her feel sexy and powerful all over again. Archie watched him in fascination, his face pulled tight as though he was trying to control himself, as though she made him feel unrestrained.
She couldn’t help it, this wanton side of her that seemed to be taking over tonight. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist, locking her heels at his back, drawing him even deeper into her slick, welcoming heat. He groaned again and it pulled at something low in her, and then his eyes caught hers, smoky and strong, the colour of richest brandy, his intent undisguised. Archie’s breath hitched somewhere in her chest. All she could do was dig into his arms, his shoulders, as he began to move. A dance as old as time and a pace equally as steady. Her body was helpless to do anything but match it, stroke after stroke, thrust after thrust, his eyes never leaving hers.
She had no idea how long they moved together. A lifetime. Maybe longer. As though she had never been meant to be anywhere else but here. With Kaspar. Better than any of her dreams if only for the simple fact that this was real.
At some point he swept his hand down her side, her already sensitive body shivering at the feather-light touch, and then he was touching her at the centre of her need and there was nothing feather-light about it at all. He knew exactly what he was doing. And how much pressure he needed to exert.
Archie gasped and arched her back, her hips, her neck. She wanted to tell him to slow down, not because she didn’t want this but because a tiny part of her couldn’t stand the thought that he might leave as soon as this was all over, but her tongue refused to work. At least as far as talking was concerned. Instead, she slid her hands down his back, her nails leaving their own exquisite trail, and he shuddered and growled, plunging into her more deeply. So desperate and demanding and right. It threw her straight back over the cliff edge until she was tumbling and tumbling, and she didn’t care where she landed so long as it was with Kaspar.
And as she called out his name, surrendering herself completely to him, this time Kaspar followed.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘FOURTEEN HOURS OF surgery and it all comes down to this.’ Kaspar grinned with satisfaction at his team. A reconstruction and rehabilitation procedure on a patient who had lost almost all of his upper jaw and teeth almost a decade earlier, following oral cancer surgery.
‘Yeah, rebuilding a man’s jaw and bone palate using advanced osteointegration and three-dimensional computerised design. It’s awesome.’
Kaspar glanced at the young surgeon. Rich, arrogant, the son of a renowned surgeon, he came across entitled and lacking in empathy, but he was a solid surgeon, if only Kaspar could find a way to steer him.
‘More than the medical kudos, it’s going to be life-changing for our patient. He’d become almost hermit-like, unable to venture out without people pointing and staring.’
‘I guess. But, still, we’re, like, in ground-breaking territory here.’
Normally, today’s surgery was exactly the kind of challenge on which Kaspar thrived. Had always thrived.
But despite his triumph, Kaspar was preoccupied. He had been ever since that stolen t
ime with Archie almost five months ago.
Five months in which he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. The way she sounded, smelt, tasted. Night after night his body ached for her, in a way it never had for any other woman. He told himself it was just the sex, that he didn’t recall the walks, the laughter, the shared memories with such clarity. He refused to admit to whatever alchemy went on in his hollow, astringent chest. Even so, one night hadn’t been enough. He’d had to eke out the weekend, then an extra day. Even that hadn’t sated the yearning he had for her.
Yearning.
Him.
Every day had been a battle not to contact her. Even whether or not to send her flowers when he’d seen the date a couple of months earlier and had realised it was her birthday. Every day he’d prayed for challenges like this one to walk into his consultation room, if only to have somewhere else to pin his focus.
But it always came back to Archie. And whether, if he took up the offer to return to the UK next month, he should contact her or not.
‘I mean, think of it this way,’ the younger man enthused, pulling Kaspar back to the present, ‘using implant bone to live and grow around a titanium plate, being able to create the bone and tissue to support an implant of a whole new set of teeth. Traditionally we’d have had to use plates and grafts and cadavers.’
‘And our patient,’ Kaspar continued firmly. ‘Being able to speak and be understood, or to eat food or have a drink without fluid spilling from his sinuses and mouth.’
But the young surgeon was only interested in the surgery, and Kaspar didn’t have the inclination to lecture as he might otherwise have done. His head was too full of Archie.
He’d told himself he was too damaged. Too selfish. Too destructive. Especially for someone as bright and vibrant as Archie Coates was. He’d kept an ocean between them with the excuse that he was protecting her. But the truth was that he was concerned about her. The longer they’d spent together, the more he’d noticed that she’d seemed to have lost a little of the special lustre he remembered about her. As though life had somehow scratched at her when it shouldn’t have. Her father’s death, the idiot husband she’d mentioned, maybe even Robbie emigrating.
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