The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart

by Susan Carlisle

  She shook her head. “You’re bruised.”

  “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

  She didn’t fight him or argue further. Leaning her head against him, she was resting peacefully seconds later. There was something right about having her under his care. It made him think of what-ifs. But he didn’t do long term. Didn’t stay in one place. Guilt ate at him. He’d let Joey down. Would end up letting Michelle down also.

  It was better not to get involved. But on some level wasn’t he already?

  * * *

  Michelle woke to Ty calling her name. What a wonderful way to come out of sleep.

  “We’re home. I wouldn’t have woken you and just carried you into the house but my hand and arm…”

  “Hey, it’s the thought that counts. I can walk.”

  “Thanks for letting my ego down easy.”

  She went in ahead of him. “I’ll get your medicine.”

  Ty stepped to the kitchen counter to stand beside her. He took the prescription bottle out of her hand and put it down. He cupped her cheek with his good hand. “I can take care of myself. You’ve looked after everyone but yourself today. Go and get into bed.”

  Michelle blinked slowly with a drowsy look that made him think of tangled sheets and her beneath him. She had no idea of the power she was gaining over him. Thankfully she didn’t argue, which told him just how worn out she was.

  “Goodnight,” she mumbled as she walked off.

  Ty groaned. He needed to take something that would make him sleep because every fiber in him wanted to follow right behind her and straight into her bed. But he wouldn’t take the medicine. He wanted to be alert if Michelle needed him during the night.

  After securing the condo for the night, he headed down the hall towards his room. As he was entering, a sound of glass breaking came from Michelle’s room.

  Ty went to her door, which was slightly open. “Michelle, is everything all right?”

  A muffle sound was all the response he received.

  He nudged the door wider. “Michelle, are you hurt?”

  “I…need your help,” came from the direction of what had to be the bathroom. Ty stalked across the room and didn’t hesitate to enter the bathroom.

  Tears ran down Michelle’s face. She sat on the edge of the tub with a towel haphazardly wrapped around her, leaving more skin exposed than covered. If she hadn’t looked so distraught he would have tugged on that towel and finished what they had started earlier in the evening.

  Instead, he saw shattered glass surrounding her feet and some type of pink-colored liquid on the floor. Michelle held her hand in her lap. A finger dripped blood.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she sobbed.

  Ty’s heart contracted. An emotionally brittle Michelle tore at his soul.

  Still wearing his shoes, he stepped further into the bathroom and snatched a hand towel off a hook. Lifting Michelle’s injured hand, he wrapped the towel around it. He ignored his injuries that screamed against the pressure as he scooped her up into his arms.

  She didn’t resist, leaning her head on his shoulder. So frayed, she didn’t comment on his wounds either.

  He laid her on the bed. “Stay put. I’ll get something for that finger.”

  She rolled away from him and pulled her knees up to her chest. The towel around her body slipped upwards, barely covering her bottom. Ty turned away and made his way to the kitchen to find the first-aid supplies she’d used on him earlier in the day. Locating them in a small drawer, he took out what he thought he’d need. By the amount of blood he’d seen, it looked as if she might need stitches.

  Returning to her room, he found Michelle still curled on the bed. She looked so lost and pitiful. This was no longer the self-assured, in-control, sharp-tongued woman he knew from the OR. Michelle had morphed into a scared, exhausted and heartbroken daughter with an ill mother. The ice queen had turned human.

  His chest tightened. All he wanted to do was to gather her up and hold her tight, reassuring her that all would be well. But if he did, could he stop there?

  She needed someone to care for her. To help her carry her burdens. To stand beside her when she required help. Could he be that person? His past said no. But he was here now. He would take care of her while he was here.

  Ty sat on the edge of the bed. “Michelle, you’re going to have to roll over and let me see your finger. We need to get it covered or you’ll get blood all over the bedspread.” He reached out to touch her shoulder but only let it hover, unable to trust himself if he came in contact with the creamy skin. He rested his hand on the bed. “Come on, ma belle, let me see your finger.”

  Michelle rolled but remained in the same fetal position. She flopped her hand out into his lap. Ty undid the towel and was pleased to see that the cut wasn’t as extensive as he’d expected. Using the wet cloth he’d brought from the kitchen, he cleaned the blood away. A sticking-plaster would do.

  She watched him work with blank eyes. She didn’t even wince when he touched the cut with the cloth. Her detachment worried him. Had she become so despondent that she’d given up?

  As he finished applying the dressing he smiled at her and said, “You know, at this rate the two of us aren’t going to generate much trust in our patients. We both look like accidents waiting to happen.”

  He was pleased to see a slight smile form on her lips. He liked it. She didn’t do it often enough.

  “I’m going to clean up the mess in the bathroom. While I’m doing that why don’t you put on a nightgown and get into bed? You’ll feel better after a good night’s rest.”

  Not waiting for her answer, he took the first-aid supplies back to the kitchen and found the broom and dustpan. When he returned Michelle was asleep but still covered in only the towel and lying on top of the spread.

  Putting the broom and dustpan in the bathroom, he came back and pulled the spread away on the opposite side of the bed from Michelle. Circling around to her side again, he lifted her. She snuggled against him, warm and perfect. She was very appealing with her hair disheveled and so much smooth skin showing. Most troubling of all was that she smelled wonderful. Like springtime flowers and rain.

  Ty placed her on the sheet and gently pulled the towel from her with a growl of remorse and a straining of his manhood. Reminding himself that at this time she was more patient than lover, he resisted the urge to linger and look his fill. With a jerk of the covers he pulled the top sheet and spread up over Michelle’s shoulders.

  After turning the bedside table lamp on and the overhead light off, he headed to the bathroom to clean up. Minutes later he had what he assumed was bath oil removed from the floor. The smell was strong but it reminded him of the sleeping woman who so tempted him in the bed just a few feet away. With a sharp note to keep his mind on the job, he went back to sweeping.

  This clean-up job was the most domestic thing he’d done in years. In fact, the last few days had been most unusual. Eating in a kitchen. Sleeping in a real home. Being a part of someone’s life. For once in a long time he wished for more. These types of thoughts wouldn’t lead to anything positive. He’d already learned more than once that he couldn’t take a chance on having those feelings. It was too easy for it all to be gone. It wasn’t worth the pain.

  Replacing the broom and dustpan, he threw the towels he’d used to clean up the oil into the washer. He’d check on Michelle and head to bed.

  Unable to resist touching her and making the excuse that she might have a fever, he pushed a ribbon of hair away from her face. He was pleased to find that her skin was cool. Satisfied she wasn’t sick but unsatisfied where his body was concerned, he reached over and turned out the lamp.

  “Ty.”

  “Yes, ma belle?”

  “Would you hold me?” The words came out as if she was bone weary.

  He stood shock still. Could he? Could he not?

  “I’m so cold inside.”

  He’d hold her until she went back to slee
p. Surely he could muster that much self-control over his basic instincts and help her through this time. But she was naked.

  Breathing deeply and kicking off his shoes, he slid under the covers and onto his side. He ran his unbandaged arm under her neck and the other circled her waist. This time he was grateful that a bandage covered most of his hand. If he been able to feel her skin against his palm there would have been no way to control his desires. Michelle snuggled up against him and with a deep sigh stilled. He gritted his teeth and tried to think about taking a bath in ice water. Seconds later her even breathing told him she was asleep again.

  Would she even know she’d asked him into her bed tomorrow? Or what he’d suffered to be here?

  His fingertips brushed her skin. It felt warm and silky smooth. He wanted to explore more of her. With a groan, he shifted. Even the loose pants of his scrubs felt tight. With great effort he pushed the fact that she was naked out of his mind, or at least tried to. It was impossible. His body throbbed with lust, despite his best efforts to convince it otherwise.

  Ty rubbed his cheek against her soft hair. Breathing in the floral scent of her bath oil, which was as classy as Michelle, he looked off into the dark. He begged for sleep to ease the agony, confident it would never come. The night would be a long one.

  * * *

  Michelle shifted to find a wall of warmth preventing her from totally rolling over. She snuggled closer, her face padded against the musk of heated skin. Wanting more, she put an arm over it and aligned herself.

  “Michelle. Stop.”

  A dark rumble above her head jerked her to reality. She held her breath.

  “Let go, Michelle, so I can move.”

  She didn’t. She didn’t want to. Didn’t want Ty to move.

  Ty felt so good against her. She wanted more. All of him. Her hand rested partly on material and partly on skin. She nudged what had to be his scrub shirt upwards until her hand found heated skin.

  “Mmm.” Her fingertips flowed over the skin, feeling it ripple.

  A groan of deep agony warned, “Michelle, wake up.”

  “I don’t want to. This is a nice dream,” she mumbled as she traced the line of his last rib. “It feels good. I want to feel good.”

  The rush of air being forcefully sucked in came from above. “If you keep that up it won’t be a dream but reality.”

  “Okay,” she said, pushing the material further out of the way.

  He winced.

  Had she lost her mind? She was coming on to a man who had been in an accident. He was hurt, sore. She had reached a new low in the need department. But what would be so wrong with them making each other feel good for just a little while? Ty wanted her. He’d made that clear.

  Looking up, she found his heavy-lidded eyes focused on her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m hurting you.” She moved away.

  “Hey, come back here. This is the kind of pain I like.” His voice was a low gravel tone laced with desire that made her nerve endings sing.

  Running her hand further under his shirt, she trailed the flat of her hand across the contours of his chest, following every dip and curve. He didn’t move, letting her explore to her heart’s content. The palm of her hand caressed and came to rest low on his belly. She leaned over and kissed the spot where her hand had been.

  Ty hissed in response, “Michelle, if you go much further there’ll be no stopping.”

  “I’m not a child. I know what I’m doing. Yes. I want this. I want to feel good, alive.”

  Ty’s hands gripped her under her arms and pulled her up until his lips almost touched hers. “Aw, ma belle, I’m just the man for the job.”

  His mouth took hers in a sweeping kiss, like none she’d ever experienced. His tongue demanded entrance and she gave it. He savored and devoured, then turned playful again.

  Her breasts tingled, tightened as her nipples hardened, anticipating Ty’s touch.

  His hands roamed with complete freedom along her sides and over her bare bottom. He lifted her, bringing her closer. She felt the ridge of his arousal against her stomach. A giddy feeling rippled through her. She’d made Ty want her in the most elemental way. The man who charmed all the women and could have anyone wanted her. Her.

  Michelle pushed at his shirt again. She wore no clothes but he was still dressed. She wanted her skin against his. Wanted all of him. Wanted, needed to be touched, tasted and be taken. Whatever it took to forget her responsibilities. To live for herself for once.

  “Off.” He let her go and she rolled away. He raised his chest inches from the mattress and she helped him remove his shirt.

  His arms circled her again and her breasts came to rest against his chest. She shifted, trying to get closer. His heat and need flowed through her. With a grunt that reminded her that he was hurt, he rolled her onto her back.

  “Ty, you’re hurt—”

  “Shut up,” he said softly. His mouth captured hers. Slowly, far too slowly his hands moved towards her breasts. They ached for his touch. Her nipples beaded, rose and awaited his consideration.

  One hand came to lie wide and heavy on her middle. He made small tantalizing circles along her skin, which sent ripples of desire dancing through her. She sucked in a breath, held it as his fingertips worked magic.

  This was living. Something she’d put on hold for far too long. And even if it was just for tonight, she would grasp this feeling with both hands.

  Ty finally cupped a straining breast and her hips flexed. He lifted the weight of her breast and ran a fingertip around the tip. She throbbed in her center, burned with need. She opened her eyes to find Ty watching her. His eyes had turned the dark green of a forest in summer. They bored into hers.

  He continued to tease her breast as he whispered, “There’s nothing icy about you. You are pure molten lava for me. Ma belle.”

  His mouth dipped to favor a nipple.

  Her hips came off the bed and her eyes closed as she sailed away on a tide of pure pleasure.

  His mouth released her. When he pulled away she let out a sound of disappointment, begging for more. If he didn’t touch her…

  Ty didn’t disappoint. Moving to the other breast, he took it into his mouth. He tormented and teased by circling his tongue around her pebbled tip. She throbbed with a craving that only Ty could satisfy. His attention brought white-hot heat to where she wanted him most.

  His lips came back to hers, before departing again to leave small kisses along her jaw line. He pushed her hair away and kissed the sweet dip behind her ear. She shivered and brought her legs up to circle his hips.

  Ty broke her grip and shimmied down her body, leaving wet kisses as he went. She clawed at his shoulders to stop him.

  “Oh, no, here you don’t run the show. We share. Right now it’s my turn,” Ty growled.

  “I want—”

  “I know you do. I do too. But not yet. I must enjoy you some more.”

  Ty kissed her belly, orbited her bellybutton with his tongue. She flinched and groaned.

  “So responsive. So hot for me,” Ty rasped, his voice rich with approval.

  He continued to place kisses over her skin, across the ridge of her hip bones and lower. Michelle’s fingers found his hair and played with it, letting it fall between her fingers. Watching as a curl caressed her fingertip. It was as wonderful as she had imagined it to be.

  One of Ty’s hands found her calf and slowly slid up to her knee. His finger caressed the underside until she could stand it no longer and pulled way.

  The small rumble in his chest said that had been his plan. She opened for him and he pressed his advantage. His talented and capable fingers traveled along the length of the inside of her thigh, teased and moved down to her knee again.

  Michelle whimpered with disappointment. She wasn’t going to be able to take much more. Then his fingers started their slow, excruciatingly magnificent travel upwards once more. He did it again and again, each time stopping just a little closer to her begging center.


  Her hands clawed at the sheets. She’d become nothing but a mass of wonton, beseeching need. He was driving her beyond reason.

  Finally, Ty’s finger touched her center and her hips arched off the bed.

  “Easy. Soon. Very soon.” His finger entered her waiting heat and she came unglued, bursting with release. His body covered hers and their lips met. “That was a beautiful thing to behold, ma belle, but we’re not finished.”

  Ty pushed up and away from her as if any pain or soreness he might have felt was forgotten. He headed out the door as if on a mission. Michelle curled into the bed and enjoyed the lovely waves of pleasure that Ty had left behind. Seconds later, he returned with a packet of protection. She watched as he peeled out of his pants and underwear at the same time.

  There was nothing bashful about this man as he stood proudly before her, all wild hair, expansive chest, flat stomach, slim hips and strong thighs. The most obvious was his desire for her standing tall and ready. Michelle couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was the Greek god of her dreams.

  Ty took care of protecting them. The bed dipped as he rejoined her. “There’s no going back from here, Michelle. You say the word and I’ll leave,” he said quietly but with meaning.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. He lowered and surrounded her. With a sigh, she accepted his weight. For once she wasn’t afraid to be out of control. To have someone take the lead.

  He kissed her deep and long before his hands found her breasts and gave them the attention they longed for. He shifted so that she cradled him between her legs. His manhood rested at her entrance.

  “Look at me,” he growled. “I want to see that passion you try so hard to hide when I enter you.”

  Her eyes flickered up to meet his. As if he could stand it no longer, he buried himself deep in her. Ty leaned down and breathed into her ear, “Heaven, ma belle.”

  He pulled back then pushed forward again. Michelle flexed to meet him, taking him completely. Ty increased the pace. She joined him. As they moved faster, she climbed higher. Reaching her peak, she exploded into beautiful waves of perfect bliss. With the sound of her name drifting off his lips and a final thrust, Ty found his completion. His weight covered her but she offered no complaint.