NYC Angels: An Explosive Reunion

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Why not?’ The words had a bewildered edge.

  ‘You shut yourself away, Alex. The closer we got to the date of Jamie’s surgery, the more closed off you got. The case was the only thing that mattered. I was … just a distraction that you needed to avoid. It got to the point that I couldn’t even see the man I had fallen for so hard.’

  A swift upward glance in the wake of that revelation showed her that Alex had closed his eyes. Retreated inwards again?

  ‘So I was stuck in the middle,’ Layla said sadly. ‘I couldn’t go back to what I’d had because you’d shown me what there could be and … and I didn’t think there was anything to go forward towards any more.’ Her voice wobbled just a tiny bit. ‘It was a really lonely place to be. A really scary place.’

  Layla had to close her own eyes for a heartbeat. To gather another dose of courage to answer that second question.

  ‘The night before Jamie’s surgery? I was there, in the same room as you, but it felt like we were on different planets. I couldn’t believe how thoroughly I’d managed to mess up my life and … I got angry. With myself. With you. With everything in my life that had led me to that moment.’

  Layla sighed. ‘When I get angry, I have to do something about it. So I snapped and did what my heart told me I needed to do. I’m hot-headed, I know that. Impulsive. I know that, too. I let my heart rule my head too often and I know it’s not professional. You don’t have to tell me that I get too emotionally involved with patients. I know that as well.

  ‘But it’s part of who I am and … even if I didn’t know it at the time, I made the decision to stop being part of that movie the moment I met you. I want to live my own life and I want things to be true on the inside, not just look like they’re true from the outside.’

  Oh … God … if she said anything else, she was going to start crying. She pushed back her chair.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she muttered. ‘I need to … to powder my nose.’

  She pushed her way through the crowd of people in the bar, making for the ladies room.

  ‘What’s the hurry, sweetheart?’ A young man laughed. ‘Let me buy you a drink.’

  Layla didn’t even see his face. Barely registered the invitation. There were only two people in this scene right now and she’d just laid herself completely bare in front of the other one.

  This kind of nakedness made her feel far more vulnerable than any physical exposure could have done. What would Alex be thinking at the moment? Would he realise that she’d offered her heart on a plate back there? That, if he felt in any way inclined to exact revenge on the way she’d treated him, he now had the opportunity to carve her heart up into tiny pieces?

  Layla needed a few minutes here. She was quite capable of gathering every ounce of courage she possessed and wrapping it around herself like a force-field. She’d already proved she was a survivor so she could survive whatever Alex had to say when she returned to their table.

  She just needed a minute or two, that was all.

  Alex watched Layla threading her way through the crowd. He saw some young jerk try to catch her attention and he knew that Layla hadn’t even seen him.

  He couldn’t move a muscle. Couldn’t even blink for the longest time. Talk about being walloped with an emotional sledgehammer.

  If only he’d known.

  Oh, he knew he’d pulled away from Layla. It hadn’t been an easy thing to do but he’d done it because Jamie’s surgery was going to make or break his career. Success had represented the future and the way he’d felt about Layla had had the potential to undermine everything he’d thought was rock solid in his life up until then.

  That his career was all that mattered.

  That emotional entanglements had to be avoided at all costs.

  And maybe part of him had been aware that success had a new connotation. That the future had to be good enough for Layla to want to be a part of it. But had he told her why he was pulling away and erecting barriers?

  No.

  Why not?

  Because that would have meant admitting how important she had been to him. That she’d had the potential to change his entire life if he could bring himself to trust her completely.

  And he hadn’t been able to.

  He’d proved himself correct in withholding that trust because Layla had proved herself untrustworthy. She’d hurt him.

  But he’d brought it on himself, hadn’t he?

  If only he’d known about what made her tick. About the way she’d been raised.

  About that lonely place between turning points that had scared the hell out of her.

  And most of all about the way she’d felt about him. What had she said? The man she’d fallen so hard for?

  Alex could see Layla coming back towards the table now. Her chin was held high but the vulnerability in her body language was heart-breaking.

  You could never turn the clock back. But Layla had been so honest with him. If nothing else, she deserved as much in return.

  She sat down, eyed the leftover food and grimaced and then, slowly, raised her gaze to meet his.

  Alex swallowed carefully. ‘There was a bright spot, you know.’

  Those bright blue eyes clouded with confusion.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘In the whole disaster that was Jamie’s case and what happened after it … there was a bright spot.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘That’s how Cade and I reconnected. He saw my mug shot in the papers, read about the malpractice suit and it was enough to make him ready to talk to me again for the first time in nearly a decade.’

  He could see the stream of questions that Layla was dying to ask. It must have taken a real effort for her to remain silent.

  ‘Any dysfunction in your family was hidden under a pretty exterior,’ Alex said quietly. ‘The problems with mine were there for everybody to see. There’s probably a fat file buried somewhere with photographs of all the injuries I turned up to the emergency department with.’

  ‘Oh, my God …’ Layla breathed. ‘From your parents?’

  ‘Not my mother,’ Alex said swiftly. ‘No way. The only thing she ever did wrong was to marry an alcoholic bastard after my dad died. Cade’s father.’ He paused for a moment. ‘No, maybe the worst thing she did was to get breast cancer and die.’

  Layla’s eyes had already widened with shock. Now they took on a brightness that suggested tears. Alex had to look away. He wasn’t doing this to try and garner sympathy. He just wanted things to be equally honest between them.

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Ten. Cade was seven. He was safe enough, being Tony’s son. I was the unwanted burden. A stepkid he’d never wanted in the first place. Anyway …’ Alex wasn’t going to dwell on those dark years of abuse. ‘I upped and left when I was sixteen because I couldn’t take it any more. Cade thought I’d abandoned him and he got pretty angry. By the time I tried to talk to him on his eighteenth birthday he didn’t want anything more to do with me. I thought I’d lost my only living relative for ever but, thanks to the case, he made the first move.

  ‘I’ll always be grateful that he stood up to be counted when I needed it so much. He was about the only person who did. We’ve cleared up a lot of stuff since then and … well, I feel like I’ve got my brother back. So, that was a bright spot.’

  Alex’s smile was tight. There was no flicker of a response from Layla’s lips.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was choked. ‘I felt so guilty … about everything. Luke, you … Jamie … I had no idea what to do about any of it and so I took the coward’s way out and did nothing.’

  ‘You didn’t have anything to feel guilty about as far as Jamie was concerned. If I hadn’t always had the ability to separate my personal stuff from my professional duties I would never have become a surgeon in the first place. What happened was a complication that none of us could have foreseen and, even if we had, we wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.’

  ‘But it was
me who persuaded you to try that new procedure in the first place. Because I’d fallen in love with Jamie and had got too involved and I was so determined to grab at any straw.’

  ‘He would have died within weeks without the surgery. Technology has got a whole heap better now and I’ve perfected that technique since then as well. I’ll probably use it for Tommy’s operation.’ Alex wanted to erase the frown lines creasing Layla’s forehead. ‘So, that’s another bright spot, isn’t it?’

  Layla stared at him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re trying to put a positive spin on any of this. You have every reason to hate me. I thought—’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Layla,’ Alex cut in as she struggled to find words.

  It was true. He didn’t.

  He couldn’t have said exactly how he felt about her now other than an overwhelming physical attraction because the trust he’d been prepared to give her had been shattered and Alex had no idea whether it was even possible to repair something like that.

  Maybe it was just as well he didn’t need to say anything else just then. The waiter came back and eyed the plates of food on their table.

  ‘You guys all done?’

  ‘Yeah …’ When Layla nodded to back him up, Alex pulled out his wallet and produced a credit card. ‘We’re all done here.’

  Outside the bar, it was immediately apparent that the only completed business between them was the meal.

  ‘Time to head home?’ Alex asked.

  Layla nodded.

  ‘I don’t live too far from here,’ Alex heard himself saying. ‘Come home with me?’

  Layla hadn’t expected that invitation. He could see the surprise in her eyes followed by a glow of … what? Pleasure? Hope?

  He didn’t want to try and analyse whatever it was because if he did, he might be tempted to run for cover. What had happened to the idea of a hotel or motel and some nice, uncomplicated sex?

  Alex had no idea. And when Layla’s hand connected with his as they started walking, he laced his fingers through hers. When he felt the warmth of her hand and the responding pressure he was aware of a wash of relief that told him he was heading down the right track even if he had no idea of the destination.

  Whatever was happening here had become about a lot more than simply sex.

  Yes … things were very different.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ALEX’S APARTMENT IN the midtown suburb was tiny. No more than a single, ground-level room in an old brown-stone terraced complex but it was cleverly designed, with a kitchen tucked into a back corner and a comfortable living space featuring a huge couch and a wide-screen television taking up two-thirds of the entire floor area. Bare wooden steps led up to a sleeping loft and beneath that was a closed-off bathroom and an open office that was clearly well used. The desk around the computer, like the coffee table in the living area, was strewn with papers and reference books festooned with sticky notes.

  There was only one window but it was huge and above the heavy rectangle of the sash windows was a semicircle of coloured glass that gave the whole window the appearance of an archway. The original character of the historic building could also be seen in the richly polished floorboards and the rough whitewash covering the old brickwork of the interior walls.

  Layla fell in love on the spot. When she came out of the compact bathroom a few minutes after her arrival she stood for a moment, soaking it all in. Alex hadn’t turned on any lights but he hadn’t drawn the curtains either and the streetlight gave everything a soft golden glow. Through the window she could see the wide steps that led into the building and the intricate wrought-iron fence that shut them off from the rest of the world.

  Them?

  Layla looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Alex in the kitchen.

  He wasn’t there and she caught her breath and held it, aware of spinning sensation that had nothing to do with how much wine she’d had to drink at the tapas bar.

  ‘Up here.’

  He’d only spoken softly but the small space seemed to catch Alex’s voice and bounce it so it felt like his mouth was right against her ear.

  ‘Waiting for you,’ he added.

  Oh … my … Layla kicked off her shoes and moved to the wooden stairs. Stairway to heaven, she thought, and almost snorted with laughter. Except that this didn’t feel at all funny.

  It didn’t feel anything like it usually did when she knew she was on the verge of having sex with Alex either. Where was the heat that fried her brain and made her aware of nothing more than his scent? His taste? His touch …?

  She climbed slowly and when she got to the top there was nowhere to go other than the bed.

  And the bed was filled with Alex.

  There was more than enough light to see the sheen of the olive-brown skin of his bare chest, the copper discs of his nipples amongst the scattering of dark hair that arrowed down to the crumpled duvet covering his legs. There was even enough light to see the question in his dark eyes. A sudden doubt. Was he suddenly as unsure about this as she was?

  ‘Layla?’

  She couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t even hold Alex’s gaze because the heat wasn’t there to fry her brain and it felt, ridiculously, like it was the first time they were making love and Layla was aware of an extraordinary sensation.

  For maybe the first time in her life Layla was overcome by crippling shyness and she had no idea what to do about it. She felt completely lost for a moment. For as long as it took to raise her eyes and meet that dark gaze again.

  For a long, long moment they held eye contact. And then Alex was moving. He knelt on the bed and held out his hands and Layla took them. He pulled her gently and her legs buckled and then she was kneeling on the bed too. Still holding her hands, Alex leaned in and kissed her lips. A soft touch. A wordless question.

  Did she want this?

  Oh … yes …

  Layla’s lips parted beneath Alex’s and he took the invitation to deepen the kiss. With the first, exquisitely slow stroke of his tongue Layla knew that the heat was still there. It was all around them. Inside them. But, instead of an overwhelming conflagration, this time it was under control. They could play with it. Luxuriate in it. Take all the time they wanted and revel in every moment.

  Still locked in that first kiss, Alex loosened Layla’s top and they broke the kiss so that she could lift her arms while he pulled it off. And then his head dipped and she felt his lips on the side of her neck and she tipped her head back with a sigh as his kisses trailed down. He pushed the straps of her bra over her shoulders as his mouth reached the top of her breasts and then he kissed her lips again as he unfastened her bra. A one-handed movement that advertised a skill he might not have practised for a while but which he certainly hadn’t lost.

  Still kneeling on the bed together, Layla pressed her bare breasts against his chest and felt Alex’s hand slip beneath her waistband to cup her buttocks and draw her even closer.

  Oh, yeah … the heat was there all right. Layla could feel herself slipping, deliciously slowly, into the mindless pleasure that only Alex had ever been able to give her. Her fingers skimmed over the hard planes of muscle on his back, over the soft skin on the sides of his neck and then they buried themselves in the soft silk of his hair.

  Alex’s hands mirrored hers. She could feel a trail of fire from each of the fingers on his hands as they covered her back, his palms dipping into the curve above her hipbones. Touching her ribs and then that sensitive skin beneath her breasts on their way up. His hands became completely lost in the tumble of her hair and Layla could actually feel the ends of her pale hair tangling with the dark hair on Alex’s arms.

  She’d never known that touch could be like this. That every cell in her body could be this connected. This sensitive. She breathed in the air that Alex was breathing out and it seemed to have more oxygen in it. She could taste the spice of Spanish food in his mouth. Or was that just the taste of Alex himself?

 
; The kiss went on. And on. Until Layla felt herself being gently lowered onto the bed and Alex began peeling the rest of her clothing from her body. The process seemed unbearably slow and she tried to help but Alex caught her hands.

  ‘I want to do this,’ he murmured, and she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘It’s like Christmas.’

  Unwrapping a gift?

  He saw her body as a gift?

  Oh … Layla couldn’t have moved to help him now. Her head sank back into the pillow and she closed her eyes as a wave of an emotion she couldn’t identify swept her away.

  She had known how good it was to be touched by Alex. To touch him. Her body had never forgotten the ecstasy of ultimate closeness. But it had always had an edge of something frantic to it. An insane race to capture satisfaction before they could be discovered. Before something, or someone, in the outside world intervened and ripped them apart. It had never been like this.

  Layla had never imagined someone honouring her body like this. Worshipping her with the touch of his hands. The tips of his fingers. The silky glide of his tongue. She wanted to do the same for him. To explore his whole body. Slowly. To touch and taste every inch of his skin. To elicit sounds from him like the tiny whimper of need she heard coming from her own throat.

  But not yet. She couldn’t wait that long. Alex might still have control over that burning desire but she was rapidly losing hers. She was on familiar ground now. Wanting Alex so much that she felt she might die if it didn’t happen. Now.

  ‘Alex … please …’ She writhed under the unbearably gentle onslaught of his lips and tongue as they touched the core of her being. ‘I need you. Inside me. Now …’

  He responded with the swiftness of a whip cracking. A few seconds’ delay as he wrenched open the bedside cabinet and then ripped into a foil package and then he was there. Between her legs. Looking down at her and touching her face with his gaze as intensely as the hard heat she could feel touching the entrance to the place she desperately wanted him to fill.