When Alex finally stopped to catch his breath, Layla ordered herself to get a grip and focus on what she’d come here for.
Which was what, exactly?
To talk about what had just happened outside the intensive care unit, of course. So that they could make sure they were singing from the same hymn book and that, if necessary, she could use her position to make sure Alex didn’t get into any trouble over this.
And … if that went well enough, maybe she’d push him just a little bit and try and find out what Cade had meant about Alex knowing too much. What it was that had made him shut her out so convincingly.
Layla didn’t like being shut out.
She pulled herself together enough to think she could manage to start this conversation but by then Alex had started running again. Not nearly as fast and furiously as he had been when she’d arrived. The anger he’d been burning off must be spent and that was a good thing. He probably wouldn’t mind being interrupted now. Swallowing hard, Layla walked away from the rubbish skip and out into the open where he couldn’t fail to see her when he started a new circuit after the next goal.
It wasn’t so good that she’d have to talk to him while he was more than half-naked and dripping with sweat, given the ache of raw desire she could still feel pulsing in her belly, but Layla already had a plan in place. She’d tell him to have a quick shower and then they’d grab a coffee. She’d wait outside the door of wherever he was going to have a shower to make sure that she got to talk to him first.
The clock was ticking. The police were probably paging him already.
Alex became aware of Layla’s presence the moment she stepped into the periphery of his visual field but he totally ignored her while he did another circuit of the court.
He could guess why she’d come looking for him. Well … she could stand there for another minute or two. The fact that the few items of clothing he was wearing were now dripping wet and clinging to his body didn’t bother him at all. The physical activity and his success in burning off that anger made him feel powerful. In control. Layla, standing there with her pretty skirt and her hair getting ruffled by the warm evening breeze, looked feminine and fragile. Definitely on the back foot.
The final goal was accompanied by a snort of something close to laughter from Alex.
Layla fragile? Not in this lifetime.
With a final bounce Alex caught the ball. He turned and walked decisively to where Layla was standing. He couldn’t miss the way her eyes widened as he got closer. Or the way her breath hitched, allowing just a tantalising glimpse of cleavage to peep over the scooped neckline of her blouse. She even averted her gaze when he got within touching distance.
Oh, yeah … Layla wasn’t very comfortable right now.
‘We need to talk,’ she said.
Alex let one corner of his mouth curl upwards. ‘Sure. Unless you’d prefer me to shower first?’
‘That … would probably be a good idea. I … um … wouldn’t want you to catch a chill or something.’
‘I’ll only be a minute.’ Alex tilted his head towards the rarely used facility built into one corner of the ambulance bay. ‘We often use the shower in the decontamination room over there.’
‘Fine. I’ll wait out here.’
The decontamination room was big enough to allow a stretcher to get wheeled in. It was designed to deal with a situation like people or equipment being in contact with a toxic chemical or potential infection. Completely tiled, there were overhead showers as well as hand-held sprays over a tilted floor with large drains. There were also big tubs and shelves that held stacks of clean towels and other items that might be needed, like gowns, gloves and masks.
Alex stripped off and got under the shower, pumping some soap from the container attached to the wall. He scrubbed some lather through his hair and then sluiced it off, letting the water rain on his face and onto his chest. He shook his head when he turned the water off but still had rivulets running over his skin as he stepped off the tilted floor to reach for a towel.
He felt the cool touch of the breeze on his back and knew the door had opened behind him. With a corner of the towel dangling from one hand, he turned to see Layla closing and locking the door behind her.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
She was leaning against the door now, facing him but with her eyes closed.
‘There’s a cop out there. The squad car’s parked in the last ambulance slot. I didn’t want them to see me yet. Or find you yet. I … couldn’t think what else to do.’ Layla opened her eyes. ‘Sorry.’
Alex was trying to process this. She was hiding from the police? Because she had some misguided notion that she could protect him? Why did she want to do that?
In the time it took for the thoughts to take their turn Alex was also processing the way Layla’s gaze dropped. Slowly. Travelling down his body and then up again. The way her pupils dilated. The way the very tip of her tongue appeared to moisten her lips.
Oh … God … What was it about the chemistry between them? This was way more intense than the atmosphere had been before that kiss. Alex could feel the oxygen being sucked out of the air around them. That final plunge before the electricity exploded. If he didn’t do something … anything … right now, they would both be consumed by the flames and there would be no turning back.
But it was too hard to even think, let alone move.
He was as naked as a jaybird. With his hair all spiky and drops of water caught on the damp whorls of hair on his chest. Hair that arrowed down to where his fist was holding the edge of the towel.
She knew what was barely concealed by that drape of towelling. She knew what that hand was capable of doing when it wasn’t busy holding something. Maybe if every cell in her body wasn’t screaming for more than the memory of that touch she could have handled this. But then Layla’s gaze dragged itself upwards until it snagged with Alex’s mouth and she knew she was completely lost.
She couldn’t look away. The only thing her brain was capable of was willing those lips to come closer. To touch her own.
A pager sounded. Hers? Maybe Alex’s, coming from the pile of his clothing that was on the bench. They were both off duty so it was most likely to be something connected to the incident upstairs. Something that should have been enough to break the unbearable sexual tension in this small, clinical space.
It certainly broke the impasse but not in the way Layla had expected. With a muttered curse Alex moved.
Not to look for his pager.
Towards Layla.
His fingers caught in her hair as they curled around her neck. She closed her eyes, instinctively tipping her head back. Exposing her neck to him. Parting her lips. Waiting for that moment … The touch of his lips … his hands … his tongue. The moment when nothing else in the world mattered.
And when it came, it was better than she could have imagined. That unexpected kiss, weeks ago now, had erased the first shock of their bodies meeting again. This time it was all about what they knew they could give each other. What they craved like an addict denied his fix for too long.
How was it that the passion could be so white hot and desperately urgent and yet it could feel gentle at the same time? That buttons could come undone and not ping onto the tiles like bullets?
The sounds echoed around them. The fast breathing. The groans of pleasure so intense it was painful. Did the sound come from her own throat when Alex’s hand cupped her breast, his thumb pulling the lace of her bra aside so that his lips could find her nipple?
Of course it did. But it was matched by the low growl that came from Alex. Her cry was much louder moments later when her skirt was hitched up and she was touched where she wanted it most.
It wasn’t enough. Layla could feel the hard tiles against her back. She had the hardness of Alex’s body against her breasts and her belly. Her own hands sought the hardness she knew she would find. That she couldn’t live without for another heartbeat.
> This was wild. Irresponsible and totally, absolutely irresistible.
Layla felt her panties being dragged down.
Yes …
She felt herself being lifted. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and her legs around his hips. It would only be a matter of seconds before she got tipped off the world into paradise and maybe the bliss wouldn’t last nearly long enough but … oh, God … nothing was this good and never could be.
For a long, long minute there was nothing but the sound of them both trying to catch their breath.
Not a word was spoken as they finally peeled apart. Layla fixed her clothing while Alex got dressed.
He checked his pager.
‘Cade’s looking for me.’ Alex had to clear his throat. ‘He’s talking to the cops.’
‘We still need to talk.’ Heavens, her voice had come out all husky too, from the aftermath of passion.
‘We’ll do it on the way. Come with me?’
A bubble of wild laughter threatened to escape from Layla. I just did, she thought. And then the realisation hit her. Of what had just happened. How huge it was—to her, at any rate. Of how weird it was not to be saying anything about it. Of how enormous the new problem had just been created. What did it mean and, more importantly, what on earth were they going to do about this?
Maybe it was too big to know what to say yet. Layla stared at Alex and he held her gaze. She could see the kind of peace that only came from ultimate physical satisfaction. But she could also see confusion there. Regret, maybe? She didn’t want to hear him say anything to confirm that.
‘And, yeah … I reckon we do need to talk.’ Alex still hadn’t broken eye contact. ‘We’ll do that real soon.’
With a nod Layla followed him to where they needed to be now.
The promise was enough. Alex was a man of his word. They would talk soon and somehow, between them, they would be able to sort everything.
The tension between them had been resoundingly broken, that was for sure. Plan B had succeeded in a most unexpected way. Now all they needed was a new plan. One that would enable them to find a way forward.
A plan that Layla couldn’t begin to formulate because it was going to be very different. And it required input from both of them.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU DIDN’T …’ A gasp was followed by an echo of incredulous feminine laughter over the international phone line. ‘Oh, my God, Alex. You idiot.’
‘Hey … I rang you for some advice, Callie Richards. Not a character assassination.’
‘OK. Sorry, mate. But … but Layla? Wasn’t she the final straw that drove you over to this side of the world?’
‘Yeah … I know …’ Alex scrubbed his fingers through his hair as he stood, clad only in his boxer shorts, beside the open windows of his Manhattan apartment, trying to catch a hint of breeze in the middle of this sultry Indian-summer night. He sighed heavily. ‘I am an idiot. I thought I could handle it, you know? Stay the hell away from her, even though we’re working in the same place. But there she was …’
‘You were at work. Even we never did anything that crazy.’
Being ashamed of himself was a very alien sensation for Alex. He tried to ignore the unpleasant squirm in his gut.
‘I hope some of your brain cells were still active and that you used a …’
Alex had to cut her off. Callie may be an ex-lover and his best friend but there were limits to how candid he wanted this conversation to be. ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘They’re not something I generally have on hand when I’m at work.’
There was a moment’s shocked silence on the line. She didn’t need to tell him how stupid he’d been. How irresponsible. That he was thirty-eight years old, not eighteen, and he should have known better.
‘It just happened, Cal. I can’t undo the past, no matter how recent. What I’m trying to figure out here is what the hell am I going to do about it now?’
Callie’s voice had a sharper edge. ‘What did Layla have to say about it?’
‘That we need to talk.’ Alex wasn’t about to admit it, even to the woman he considered to be the closest friend he’d ever had in his life, but the prospect was terrifying. He didn’t want to have that conversation with Layla. Didn’t want to be that close to her again until he was absolutely confident he could handle it. And his level of confidence in that situation had been badly shaken. Destroyed?
‘She’s right,’ Callie told him.
‘I am talking,’ Alex growled. ‘To you.’
Callie’s voice softened. ‘And it’s great to hear you, mate. I miss having you around.’
There was another short silence that seemed to contain a sigh of regret. Of them being a world away from each other? Sadness that their brief fling when Alex had first gone to Brisbane had burned itself out so convincingly that nothing more than the chance of friendship was left in its wake? Not that the friendship wasn’t wonderful. They were so alike they could have easily come from the same genetic pool. Callie was a soul mate in the way a sister could have been.
‘You’ve hardly called since you moved to the Big Apple,’ Callie added. ‘Not good enough.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s been hectic.’
‘Yeah, yeah … I know what you’re like, Alex. But being a workaholic to escape personal stuff might not be the whole answer.’
It was Alex’s turn to let a snort of laughter escape. ‘That’s the pot calling the kettle black.’
‘So? I’m an expert.’ Callie was unrepentant. ‘I know what I’m talking about and I’m better at it than you.’
‘OK. If you’re such an expert, tell me what I’m supposed to do about this. I don’t want to get tangled up with Layla Woods again. With anyone, for that matter.’
‘That might have been your first mistake,’ Callie said seriously. ‘If you hadn’t taken that vow of celibacy after our … after we …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Anyway … you’re not cut out to be a monk, Alex Rodriguez. If you’d just had some fun now and then, it wouldn’t have been all bottled up and ready to explode like that.’
‘I didn’t take a vow of celibacy. I just haven’t met anybody else that … that spun my wheels enough.’
Because nobody had come close to being like Layla?
No. That was ridiculous. The world was full of gorgeous women. He just hadn’t wanted the complications that came with even a brief entanglement. Work had been the answer. Satisfying enough, anyway.
Until now?
‘Layla still spins them, then, I take it?’ There was an odd note in Callie’s voice. Wistful? No. More like resignation. This was more a sisterly thing. As though she was wanting to protect him from someone she knew had hurt him so much in the past.
‘Obviously.’ Alex’s response was dry enough to evaporate instantly.
‘Hmm. Well, at least it was just a quick shag in the shower. Nobody could say that was romantic.’
‘No. I guess not.’ Unbidden, images of Layla in a more romantic setting flashed into his head.
A big bed with rumpled sheets.
A soft rug in front of a crackling, open fire.
A candlelit dinner by a moon-touched sea.
Oh … God … It didn’t matter that the images were so fleeting they almost hadn’t touched his consciousness. They still left a drag of something way too close to longing in their wake.
He didn’t want any of that. No way.
‘And you didn’t have a heart-to-heart and trot down memory lane?’
‘We didn’t get a chance to talk. The cops were waiting for us.’
‘What? That was fast. How did they know what you’d been up to?’
Alex laughed and instantly felt better. Trust Callie to be able to break the tension like that. He filled her in on the incident with Ramona’s boyfriend, which they’d managed to defuse completely with the solid wall of evidence from Cade, Layla and himself to refute the creep’s claims that Alex had attacked him.
‘And then I got caught up che
cking on Felix and by the time I’d finished, Layla had gone home so Cade and I went to O’Malley’s for a drink.’
‘Who’s O’Malley?’
‘It’s an Irish pub. Close to Angel’s so it gets used a lot. You’d love it. Irish pubs are the same the world over. Could have been in O’Reilly’s in Brisbane. Felt kind of like home, anyway.’
Except he didn’t have a real home, did he? Never had. Maybe he never would. A shaft of a very melancholy shadow made him fall silent suddenly.
Callie didn’t notice. ‘And a good brotherly chat? You’ve really patched things up between you?’
‘Yeah … Seems like it.’ The shadow lifted. Maybe home was really about people, not places.
‘So what did Cade have to say about you and Layla hooking up?’
‘I … didn’t get round to telling him about that.’
Callie made an impatient sound. ‘Men. What is with you and talking about personal stuff?’
‘We talked about plenty of personal stuff.’
‘Oh, yeah? Like what?’
‘Cade’s stuff.’
‘Worse than yours?’
‘Maybe.’ Alex pressed his lips together. He wasn’t about to break a confidence. And Cade’s stuff had made him think his own worries were insignificant.
The worst that had happened to him had been that a girl he’d been crazy about had dumped him. She hadn’t tried to trap him by getting pregnant and then punished him for not responding in the way she’d planned. Cade had had to deal with the guilt of this girl taking an overdose and then having a miscarriage.
‘Anyway …’ Callie had given up waiting for him to say anything more about the conversation. ‘You working tomorrow?’
‘It’s Saturday and I’m not on call. I’ll do a ward round in the morning and was planning to catch up on paperwork after that.’
‘Talk to Layla,’ Callie ordered. ‘If nothing else, you need to find out if she’s on the Pill. Or whether you need to get screened for an STD or something.’
A curl of anger came from nowhere and was bright enough to make the night seem even hotter. ‘Layla’s not like that,’ he snapped.
NYC Angels: An Explosive Reunion Page 5
