Breaking All Their Rules

by Sue MacKay

  You’d have a lot of great sex.

  Not necessarily. They could avoid that. It wasn’t as though they were going together-together, right?

  Tell that to someone who’ll believe you.

  The little gremlin that had flattened her car battery and made her fall asleep in the hot tub now had her saying, ‘It would have to be the first week of July.’

  *

  Zac shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets as he strolled along the Viaduct beside Olivia. At one-thirty in the morning, in the middle of winter, they were the only ones crazy enough to be out here, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Why the hell had he agreed to go to Fiji? His brain had to be fried from too many hours in Olivia’s company. No other explanation popped up. Accepting he wanted time out with her went against everything he strived for. His hands clenched at his sides. What if he liked Olivia even more by the end of the trip? He liked her too much already. Her beauty, her wit, her sense of fun, and her concern for others. He’d pushed her to go away to a place that was all about romance. Romance. A subject he knew nothing about. And didn’t want to. That would be like rubbing salt into the wound.

  Olivia would be regretting her acceptance of Paul’s generous gift. But she would never back down. Not now that others had heard her accept.

  Zac sighed unhappily. He was as bad as Olivia. Paul had challenged them both, and he’d fallen for it. Given in to the emotions that had been battering him since he’d arrived at the hotel. To have spent his entire adult life avoiding commitment only to find himself well and truly hooked didn’t bear thinking about.

  A gust of rain-laden wind slapped them. Olivia pulled her jacket tight across her breasts and folded her arms under them. Her face looked pinched—from cold or from anger at herself for agreeing, he wasn’t sure.

  Taking her elbow, Zac turned them around. She was shivering. ‘Come on. We’ll go to my apartment. The weather’s about to dump a load of wet stuff and getting soaked doesn’t appeal.’

  ‘I should go back to the hotel.’ She didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘We need to talk about what we’ve got ourselves into.’ Then he might feel happier. Might. ‘I’ve got wine in the chiller. Or there’s tea, if you’d prefer.’ He also had a huge bed, but doubted he’d get a hug for mentioning that.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Paul no?’ she asked when they were in the elevator, heading up to his apartment.

  Initially he had. ‘Maybe I want to go.’

  ‘Do you? Really?’

  While I’m standing here breathing in the floral scent that’s you, yes, really. When I see that uncertainty flick through your eyes, yes, I want to spend time with you. When I think about actually scratching my itch, definitely, yes, but if I remember why I have to move on from you, then a resounding no.

  The elevator shook to a halt and the doors glided open. He took her elbow again. ‘The idea of going to Fiji, it’s growing on me.’ His parent’s fortieth wedding anniversary was in the first week of July and they were having a party to beat all parties at one of Auckland’s top restaurants. Of course he wanted to celebrate with them. Of course he was not invited. ‘Yep, getting away has appeal.’ He tried to ignore the surprised look on her face and opened the door to his penthouse. ‘After you.’

  Olivia slipped past him, and walked through to the lounge with its floor-to-ceiling glass wall that allowed an extensive view of Auckland Harbour, the bridge, and closer in the wharves with a collection of large and small sea craft tied up.

  He followed, stood next to her, stared out seeing nothing. Why did Olivia unsettle him when no other woman ever had?

  ‘I’ve never been to the islands,’ she said, without looking his way. ‘Haven’t been anywhere since I was ten, and then it was to Australia with my parents. Mum hates flying.’

  ‘Makes for an uncomfortable trip, I imagine. You haven’t inherited that fear?’

  Her head moved slowly from side to side. ‘Not at all. In fact, I’d like to learn to fly one day.’

  ‘What’s holding you back?’ It wouldn’t be lack of brains or money.

  ‘I have a feeling it would become a passion and what with work and doing up my house there isn’t enough spare time to spend hours in the air.’ Her reflection in the window showed she was nibbling her lip again.

  He didn’t like it when she did that. It indicated distress, and he didn’t want her to feel distressed. ‘Ever thought of cutting back a few hours so you can do some of the things you like?’

  Olivia finally looked at him. ‘I spent so much time training and working my way to the top that I think I’ve forgotten there’s a whole world out there waiting to be explored, whether through travel or doing things like learning to fly.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Apart from going sailing whenever he could get a weekend away, he spent most of his time working. ‘You said you’re enjoying doing up your house. I bought this apartment because the idea of renovations and painting and all the things required to turn a house into a home seemed too huge. It’s not a job for one weekend, is it?’

  ‘No, it’s a project. But, then, most things I’ve ever done have been projects.’ She frowned. ‘That’s how I stay in control. Take the house. Next month is bathroom month. The builder’s going to gut it and then everything I’ve chosen goes in and I get to go shopping for all the little bits and pieces, matching the towels with the tile colour, the fittings with the rest of the house.’

  Sounded too organised for him. He liked a little disorder, certainly didn’t have perfectly matched towels or even dinner sets. Not that he’d gone to the second-hand shop for anything, but he hadn’t been hell-bent on getting everything looking like a show home. ‘What was last month?’

  ‘My bedroom.’ She turned away, and her voice was low as she told him, ‘It’s cream and rose pink. Very girlie, but I wasn’t allowed that when I was growing up so I’m having it now.’

  Wow, she’d just mentioned her childhood twice in a short amount of time. Very briefly, sure, but there it was. She hadn’t been allowed to pick the colours for her room. Not a big deal maybe, but it could mean there was nothing she’d been allowed to choose. ‘I’ve never seen you wear pink.’

  ‘Rose pink.’ Her smile was unexpectedly shy. ‘There’s a difference. And, no, I can’t imagine what patients would think if their surgeon turned up dressed in pink.’

  ‘They’d probably love it.’ Taking a step back before he walked into that smile filling him with a longing for something special, he brought everything back to reality. ‘Tea or champagne?’

  ‘Have you got camomile?’ Her smile had widened into that of a cheeky girl.

  He told her, ‘Yes, I have,’ and laughed at her surprise. ‘My mother drinks it.’ On the rare times she’s visited.

  ‘For some reason I didn’t think you were close.’ She followed him to the kitchen, where she perched on a bar stool at the counter. Crossing her legs showed off a length of thigh where that golden creation that was supposedly a dress rode high.

  ‘We’re not.’ Mum at least tried to accept he was still her son, while Dad… Forget it.

  ‘You mentioned one brother.’ Was that longing in her voice? Hard to tell from her face.

  ‘Mark. He’s married with two kids. I only get to see them at Christmas and birthdays.’

  Olivia picked at an invisible spot on the counter. ‘That’s incredibly sad.’

  ‘Yep.’ He made himself busy getting mugs from the cupboard and teabags from the pantry.

  She lifted her head and locked her blue eyes on him, suddenly back to being in control. ‘Think I’ll head back to the hotel. I don’t really want tea. Or anything.’ She slipped off the stool and turned towards the doorway. ‘Good night, Zac.’

  With little thought he reached for her, caught her wrist and gently tugged her close. With a finger under her chin he tilted her head back so he could gaze down into her eyes. And felt his head spinning with wanting her.

  Olivia’s eyes widened and
her chin rose further as her mouth opened slightly.

  Zac was lost. Any resistance or logical thinking disappeared as he leaned closer to place his mouth over hers. As he tasted her, the heat and need he’d kept tamped down most of the night exploded into a rainbow of hot colours. Olivia. She was in his arms, her mouth on his, her tongue dancing with his. Olivia.

  Slim arms wound around his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He felt her rise onto tiptoe, knew the moment when her hips pressed against his obvious desire. Those breasts he’d been fantasising about all night flattened against his chest, turning him into a molten pool of need. His hands spread around her waist to lift her onto the stool, where she immediately wrapped her legs around his thighs.

  This is what I’ve missed so damned much. We are fire on fire. Feeding each other. Consuming the oxygen.

  She tasted wonderful, bringing more erotic memories back to him. Making new ones.

  Lifting his mouth, he began trailing kisses over her jaw, down her neckline, on towards her deep cleavage. When she whimpered he continued while lifting his gaze to her face, where he recognised the same fiery awakening racing along his veins.

  Her fingers kneaded his scalp as she pushed her breasts higher to give him more access with his tongue. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Of course she wasn’t. That dress had clung to every curve and outlined her shape perfectly; including her breasts, those peaks now hard against his mouth and hand.

  Zac growled as he licked her, tasted her skin, her nipple. A gentle bite had her arching her back and tipping her head so that her hair fell like a waterfall behind her. And he lost himself, tasting, touching, rubbing.

  ‘It’s been so long,’ she murmured in a low voice that spelt sex. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, finally pushed it open, and then her palms were on his skin, smoothing and teasing as only Olivia could do.

  The memories that he’d lived on for all those long months apart rapidly became reality. He hadn’t enhanced any of them. This was how it had been between them. Then his belt was loose, the zip being tugged downward, and… Oh, hell. Her soft hand was wrapped around him, sliding down, up, and down again. Oh, hell. There was nothing quite like making out with this woman. She knew the buttons to push, remembered what he most enjoyed, and if she wasn’t careful would have him coming long before he’d pleasured her.

  That wasn’t happening. Zac wrapped his arms around her and carried her quickly down the hall to his bedroom and the super-king-sized bed she had yet to try out. Toeing his shoes off, he knelt on the bed and leaned forward with Olivia still in his arms so that he was covering her before she could move. ‘Your turn.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ she croaked.

  ‘I haven’t touched you yet.’ But, then, often he hadn’t had to. All part of that explosiveness that had been them.

  ‘Don’t, if you want this to last more than the next three seconds.’

  Now, there was a challenge. Pushing her dress up over her thighs, Zac slipped down to find her core with his tongue. The moment he tasted her she jolted like she’d been zapped with an electrical current.

  Her hands gripped his head, holding him there. Not that he’d been going anywhere else until he had her rocking against him.

  ‘Zac!’ she cried when he licked her. ‘Zachary…’ As he pushed a finger inside.

  Her hips lifted, her fingers pressed into his scalp, and she was crying out his name. Over and over as her body convulsed under him.

  Reaching for the top drawer of his bedside table, he grabbed a condom and tore the packet open with his teeth. A small, warm hand whipped the condom from his fingers. ‘Let me.’

  Then he was lying on his back, unsure how she’d managed to flip him so effortlessly. She straddled his thighs and, achingly slowly, slid the condom onto his erection.

  Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her over him and lowered her to cover him, took him inside to her moist, hot centre.

  ‘Zac!’ She screamed his name.

  He hadn’t forgotten she was a screamer but it still hit him hard, stirred him and had him pushing further into her.

  It was never going to take long, he was that hot for her, had been wanting this from the moment he’d seen her leaning against that counter in the hotel reception. When she put her hand behind to squeeze him he was gone. Over. Finished. One final thrust and Olivia cried out and fell over his chest, gasping for air, her skin slick with sweat and her body trembling against his.

  As she lay sprawled across him, he spread his hands across her back, stared up at the barely illuminated ceiling and smiled. Everything was in place in his world. Olivia was in his bed. They’d shared the mind-blowing sex he knew only with her. Everything was perfect. His itch was being appeased.

  Or would be when they did it again, just as soon as he got his breath back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ZAC HAD NO idea what the time was when he rolled over and reached out for Olivia, only to come up empty-handed. ‘Olivia?’ He sat up and stared around. His heart thumped hard. Not again.

  ‘I’m here.’ Her voice came from the en suite bathroom.

  Phew. He dropped back. Something clattered in the hand basin, and Olivia swore. ‘You okay in there?’ he called.

  Silence.

  ‘Olivia? Are you all right?’ His gut started to tighten.

  ‘I’m making sure I can walk past the hotel receptionist without looking like I’ve been…um, doing what I’ve been doing.’

  ‘You’re heading over the road?’ Now he was on full alert. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood. ‘What’s wrong with staying the rest of the night? You and I don’t usually settle for once.’

  ‘Don’t do this, Zac.’ She stepped into the room, but kept her distance. ‘We’ve got to stop before we get carried away.’

  As the cold reality of her words hit him he pulled his head back, glared down at her. ‘Why? We are willing, consenting adults, not two teenagers who have to go home to Mum and Dad looking guilty.’ Hopefully she didn’t hear the anger her rejection made him feel. Again. And the pain because she was right.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her eyes were brimming with tears. ‘I shouldn’t have got so carried away.’

  A gut-buster, that statement. ‘We got carried away, sweetheart. We.’ He shoved a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what had happened to cause her to haul on the brakes. He should be grateful. He’d hoped to sooth his need, not crank it wide-open. How wrong could a bloke be?

  ‘Exactly. We didn’t stop to think about what we were doing. Not for a moment.’ Her back was straight, her shoulders tight, but her chin wobbled as she said, ‘Which is why I can’t go to Fiji with you.’

  ‘You’re changing your mind?’ Of course she was. For some reason he didn’t feel happy. He’d enjoyed being with her tonight. It had been like finding something precious after a long search. He could barely look at her and not reach for her again. She might’ve put the brakes on but it would take a tank of icy water to cool his ardour and return his out-of-whack heart rate to normal.

  In the doorway she hesitated, turned around to look at him, sorrow leaking out of those baby blues. ‘Yes, Zac, I am. Going on holiday together would only exacerbate the situation. I can’t have another affair with you. It’s too casual, and anything more is impossible for me.’

  He stood rooted to the floor, unable to ignore the sharp pain her statement caused yet knowing she was stronger than him. The itch had gone beyond scratchy, was now an open wound that needed healing. Olivia was the cure but, as she’d so clearly pointed out, that wasn’t about to happen.

  Moments later his main door clicked shut, presumably behind her, and still he stood transfixed. For a moment earlier on, when they’d been sated with sex, he thought he’d found that untouchable thing he’d been looking for in his dreams and pushing away when he was wide-awake. Hell, he’d felt as though he’d connected with Olivia in a way he’d never connected with another human being in his life. Sure, they’d had se
x without any preamble, as they’d always done, but there’d been more depth to their liaison. He’d made love to the woman of his dreams. Literally.

  Which made Olivia heading back to her hotel room absolutely right. Unlike him, she had a handle on their situation. Where was his gratitude?

  *

  Zac’s phone vibrated its way across the bedside table. ‘Hello?’ Had Olivia had a change of heart?

  ‘It’s North Shore Emergency Unit, Dr Wright. We’ve got a situation.’

  Not Olivia. Guess it wasn’t his night. ‘Tell me,’ he sighed.

  ‘A bus full of rowers returning to Whangarei went off the road an hour out of the city. There are many casualties so we’re ringing round everyone. Can you come in?’

  ‘On my way.’ It wasn’t as though he’d been sleeping. A certain woman had taken up residence in his skull, refusing to let him drop off to sleep even when his body was craving rest.

  *

  ‘Kelly Devlin, nineteen-year-old rower, fractured tibia,’ the ED registrar told Zac within moments of him striding into the chaotic department.

  Zac studied the X-rays on the light box. ‘She needs a rod insertion,’ he decided, and went to talk to his patient.

  Kelly glared at him. ‘I’m a national rowing champion, Doctor. I can’t have a broken leg.’

  Zac’s heart went out to her. ‘You have. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Does that mean the end of my career?’

  ‘First I’ll explain what I’m going to do to help you.’ He sat on the edge of her bed. ‘I’ve seen the X-rays and your left tibia is fractured in two places. To allow the bone to heal without too much added stress I’m going to put a titanium rod down the centre of the bone. There will be screws to hold it in place while you heal.’ He kept the details scant. He knew from experience that too much information at this stage usually confused the patient and added to their distress.

  ‘Will I be competitive again?’ the girl demanded.