by Lucy Ryder
She slapped the hand clutching the tablet against her tachycardic heart and gasped. “What the—? You scared me!”
He folded his arms across his wide chest—and she wasn’t noticing the way his biceps, triceps and all those flexor and extensor muscles bulged at the movement. She wasn’t recalling every detail of their weekend together.
His unreadable eyes studied the way she was clutching the tablet to her chest as though it could protect her from him. After what seemed like a millennium his eyes took on a twinkle and his mouth began to twitch. “You think I have a sexy ass?”
“Wha—? No. Yes... I mean... That’s what you got from all that?”
“No.” He chuckled, pushing away from the shelving. “I also got that you’ve been pining for my wicked green eyes. But I agree about needing to get laid. In fact—”
She hastily backed up a half-dozen steps, her eyes widening as he kept coming. “Don’t flatter yourself... What are you doing?” she yelped when he backed her against the wall and dipped his head to nip her throat then soothe the hurt with his tongue.
“You can’t tell?” His drawl was a rough growl of temptation against her flesh and in two seconds she was breathing hard—from annoyance, she told herself. Her knees weren’t wobbling and that wasn’t her moaning.
Oh God, it was. How embarrassing!
Her hands clutched at him—when had she reached out?—and she angled her head to one side so he could slide his lips up to the soft spot beneath her ear.
She shivered. “Dylan?”
“Mmm...?” He hummed against her ear, sending an armada of goose bumps sailing across her flesh.
Ooh. Not good...or maybe too good.
“What...what are you doing?” she squeaked as he nipped her earlobe.
“I’m saying hello...and punishing you.”
Her nipples peaked and her breasts tightened. “What?” she gasped, trying to push him away and finding to her horror that she couldn’t. Her fingers had curled into his shirt and they were holding on. “Why?”
“For ignoring me the past ten days,” he murmured taking a little bite out of her lip. “Ten days, seventeen hours and thirty-eight minutes.”
“But we...you... I...” Disbelief moved through her. He’d also been counting?
He ignored her breathy protest. “For leaving me alone in my bed,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth when her breath escaped in a shuddery gasp. “For turning my bed into a cold, barren wasteland.”
“But I...you...we—”
“You already said that.” He chuckled softly, sliding his hands beneath her scrubs top and palming her breasts, satisfaction lighting his dark eyes when she moaned. “Only the other way round.”
“I...um...” She licked her lips and dug her fingers into his biceps, her body already arching into his big warm hands.
How was she supposed to talk, let alone think when he was brushing his thumbs over her aching nipples?
“I’m back on the wagon,” she managed to get out on a rush of air, before he rendered her speechless.
He paused and lifted his head from where he’d been tasting the hollow in her throat—right where her pulse flopped like a fish out of water. His eyes were dark and heavy with lust as they stared into hers.
“I missed you,” he murmured, tugging her closer. “I didn’t expect to miss you so much.”
Terrified of what he might see there—the little smile she couldn’t quite prevent at his words—Dani quickly looked down to see his hands moving beneath her top, sliding away from her breasts.
She bit her lip against the automatic protest that rose but instead of removing his hands he was smoothing them around her back and sliding them beneath the elastic waist of her scrubs pants—and her panties—to cup her bottom as he pressed one hard thigh between hers.
“Is that why you’re undressing me?” she squeaked breathlessly.
“I like your bottom too,” he whispered, dragging his lips across her cheekbone to her ear. “It’s soft and sexy and it fits perfectly in my hands.”
His fingers clenched and unclenched on her bottom until she mewled at the heat gathering between her legs. “Are you saying I have a...a big butt?” She gasped, blinking rapidly to clear the lustful haze from her brain.
He paused in the process of swiping his tongue across her clavicle before moving back an inch so he could stare down into her face. At her aroused, outraged expression, he chuckled. “Seriously?” His fingers clenched again, drawing a little squeak from her throat. “Here I am, waxing lyrical about how I feel about your body, and all you can think is that I mean your butt is big?”
“You have big hands,” she pointed out.
“All the better to do this...” he murmured wickedly, and slid two fingers into her.
The surprise invasion drew a shocked squeak from her lips that he captured with his mouth.
“Shh...” he warned against her lips. “We don’t want anyone storming in here thinking you’re being ravished...or do we?”
Dani shook her head, too far gone to object to what she could only think of as an ambush—if she’d been able to think, that was.
She wasn’t.
Every thought save the one telling her she needed to remain standing slipped away under the onslaught of his hot, hungry kiss and the long, flexible fingers between her legs.
His mouth caught her shocked and aroused moan and all she could do was clutch at him and move against his fingers. Just before her eyes rolled back in her head he ended the kiss and removed his hand, leaving her weak-kneed, gasping for breath and on a very fine edge.
Her legs gave way and the next thing she knew she was sprawled in his lap while he held her against him, his arms two bands of iron across her back. She sucked in ragged breaths redolent of warm, delicious man and realized her face was pressed against his throat. After a couple of beats she opened her mouth—to say what, she had no idea—but all that emerged was a death rattle.
“You okay?” Dylan growled, his breath stirring the soft curls at her temple.
“I think...” she gasped “...I th—think someone stole my b-bones.”
“That would be me.”
He sounded way too smug for Dani’s liking but she was too stunned by the force—and speed—with which he’d whipped her up to object.
Sighing, she snuggled closer and licked his throat. “I want them back.”
“Not yet.”
It took her a full minute to realize that she was draped over him like a tablecloth in the supply room, where anyone might find them. It would take about five minutes for the gossip to reach Oncology, which was over in the East Wing.
The thought was enough for her to recover her bones, if not her mind.
“Ohmigod!” She gasped, scrambling to her feet in horror. “Are you insane? I can’t believe you just did that. I can’t believe I let you do that.”
“I didn’t do anything...yet,” Dylan drawled, leaning back against the wall, a satisfied grin pulling at his mouth.
“Stop that,” she ordered as she tried to find her balance. “I don’t know what you’re looking so smug about. It’s not like you...” She gestured to the erection tenting his scrubs pants and blushed. “Dealt with that,” she ended on a half-hysterical laugh.
“You going to take care of it for me?”
“No!” She gasped again, laughter bubbling up from a place deep in her chest. “It serves you right for ambushing me when I’m so busy.”
He looked at the supplies scattered across the floor. “Busy, huh?”
She smoothed her hair off her face with shaking hands and turned away to begin collecting boxes and packages. “Yes. Now, go away—aren’t you off duty?”
He rose lithely to his feet, snatching up a few boxes as he did so. “I had a late surgery on an accident victim. And, since you’ve been
avoiding me, I—”
“I have not,” she interrupted quickly, careful to keep her face averted lest he see her guilty expression. “I’ve been busy. Really busy.”
He was quiet for a few beats before saying mildly, “So you said. But, contrary to what you think, I didn’t come here for the express purpose of ravishing you. Delightful though it’s been.”
She sent him a quick glare before turning away to hide her hot cheeks. “Then why did you come?”
“I need a date.”
She stumbled and grabbed hold of the shelf at her elbow. “A date?” Why she was surprised and disappointed, Dani didn’t know. She was back on the wagon, after all. “Dr. Sexy needs a date?”
His mouth twisted wryly. “My mother has forced me to buy a couple of tickets to a charity dinner tomorrow night and I need a partner.”
“So...any woman will do?” she asked, casually pretending to count bags of Ringer’s lactate when her brain was still stuck on the fact that all he wanted was a date.
When he didn’t reply she peeked at him over her shoulder. He was leaning casually against the opposite shelves, watching her with an exasperated expression.
“Actually, no,” he drawled dryly. “I want to take you—although I’m not sure why, especially as you’ve been ignoring me.”
She blinked at him and tried to deny that his words had sent pleasure rushing through her. She couldn’t. “But what about my embargo?”
His sigh suggested she was an idiot, because anyone could see she’d fallen off the wagon a second time. With him. In record time, too.
His voice dropped a couple of octaves. “Come with me.”
A small frown creased the area between her brows even as a shiver eased down her spine. She ignored the unpleasant lurching of her stomach. “I...uh... I don’t know, Dylan. Those dinners aren’t really my thing.” Mostly because it was a world she’d run from and had no desire to re-enter.
His eyes darkened. “Please?”
And suddenly, queasy stomach aside, Dani realized she couldn’t resist a pleading Dylan. “All right,” she muttered, folding like a cheap suitcase. “I suppose it’s a formal dinner?”
“Very.” A smile bloomed across his handsome face as he leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on her startled mouth. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
CHAPTER NINE
THE ORCHESTRA HIRED for the charity event segued into a waltz as Dylan pushed his way through Vancouver’s social elite. He’d left Dani with Cole’s sister Maddie and her date, to find some champagne, and he was in a hurry to get back.
His afternoon surgery had run late and to save time he’d had his mother book a suite at the Regency, where the event was taking place. He’d sent word to Dani to make use of the facility and by the time he’d emerged from the adjoining room, white tie stuffed in his pocket and struggling with his cufflinks, she’d been ready and waiting.
Dylan couldn’t ever remember feeling as if he’d been hit on the head with a brick at the sight of a woman in an evening gown before. But, dressed in a long sheath of silvery stretch lace and beaded flower work, she’d literally taken his breath away.
In the sleeveless dress, its scalloped neckline molding perfectly to her full breasts and slender curvy body, she’d looked both elegant and so enormously desirable that his only thought had been to strip her out of it and miss the dinner entirely.
Her dark hair was swept up into some kind of complicated style that left tiny spiral curls framing her face, softening the delicate lines of her jaw. She’d applied make-up with a light hand but the effect was stunning, rendering him speechless as he’d stared into deep gray eyes that were wide and smokily seductive.
He’d felt as though the earth had given way beneath his feet and he’d been left free-falling through an alien universe. It had been all he could do not to stammer like a fool.
“You look...stunning,” he’d murmured when she’d taken over the task of fitting his cufflinks.
The flush creeping up her chest and neck had tempted him to trace its origins, past the scalloped neckline to the full swells of her breasts.
Leaning closer, he’d buried his nose in her throat. “And you smell even better.”
“Not as good as you,” she’d muttered, her quick smile turning her eyes silver as she’d slipped his white tie from his pocket to fit it around his neck.
“No,” he’d grumbled, yanking at the white waistcoat of the black penguin suit his mother had had delivered to the suite. “I look like a damn waiter.”
“A very classy one,” she’d agreed with a giggle, ducking away when he’d reached for her.
Thinking his unscheduled surgery a convenient excuse for the fact that they were going to be very late, he’d caught her at the door and kissed her until she was flushed and dazed. After the way she’d ignored him these past couple of weeks, it had been very gratifying to have her melting into him.
“What’s that wicked smile for, darling?”
A husky feminine voice interrupted his musings and Dylan turned to see his mother, bearing down on him with a determined gleam in her green eyes.
“It’s the same one you used to wear when you were plotting mischief as a boy.”
“I’m just thinking of all the lovely zeroes you’re going to add to your foundation’s coffers,” he drawled, thinking there were some things a mother didn’t need to know.
“I know,” she said happily, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Isn’t it wonderful? I have a long list of recipients we can help with the proceeds.”
He dropped an affectionate kiss on her brow before looking around for his father. “Where’s Dad?”
“Oh, talking to some crony or another. I gave him strict instructions to badger them all for large donations this year.”
“I’m sure you did.” He chuckled, imagining his father—owner and CEO of the largest shipping company in the Pacific North-West—meekly listening while his wife of thirty six years rapped out orders. “And I’m just as sure he’s doing exactly what you told him to.”
“Of course he is,” Vivian St. James said archly. “If he knows what’s good for him—which is more than I can say for my children.”
He sent his mother a dry look, knowing what she was doing but pretending otherwise. “What have the girls done now?”
“I’m talking about my son,” she retorted, slipping her hand through his arm and smiling a greeting to nearby acquaintances. Her gaze was direct and slightly narrowed when she looked up at him. “Please tell me you didn’t come alone like last time.”
His mouth twisted wryly as he admitted, “I didn’t come alone.”
Her face instantly broke into a pleased smile. “Ooh! And I suppose she’s responsible for that wicked smile I caught on your handsome face?”
“Mom...” he began, horrified to discover his face heating beneath her dancing gaze.
“She is!” She laughed at his discomfort and nudged him with her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with delight. “And...? When are you going to introduce me?”
“I’ll do it now, if you promise not to embarrass her or start planning the wedding.”
“Oh, silly boy!” She chortled scornfully. “When will you learn? I’ve already planned your wedding. I’m just waiting for you to meet the right woman.”
“Behave,” he warned her, finally catching sight of Dani and Maddie talking to—“Damn.” He scowled, recognizing the man as the son of one of the partners at the law firm his father used.
He knew Richard Ashton-Hall from school but they’d never run in the same crowd. The spiteful, opinionated boy had grown into a condescending egotistical man, who used his social status as a member of one of the leading legal families in Vancouver to lord it over what he called “the peasants.” He liked getting what he wanted and bullied people until he did.
Dylan had heard enough unsavo
ry rumors about the man to know that he wouldn’t want him dating his sisters. There was something unpleasant in the way he looked at a woman—as though he was stripping her naked with one arrogant glance and finding her either wanting or the perfect candidate as his new plaything.
And he really didn’t like the way he was looking at Dani now. It roused primitive emotions he’d have sworn he didn’t possess.
Chief among them was the urge to smash his fist into that smirking salon-tanned face. His fingers curled into tight fists, because he absolutely did not like the shocked, furious expression on Maddie’s face or the rigid line of Dani’s spine.
“What is it, darling?” Vivian James asked in concern, no doubt feeling the abrupt tension in the arm she was holding. She looked around in alarm and said, “Oh, look, there’s Madeleine... My goodness.” Her eyes widened. “She looks quite fierce, doesn’t she? Frankly, I’m not surprised. Not with that dreadful man looking at her companion like that—” She stopped abruptly, her gaze snapping from the unfolding drama to her son’s face. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s Dani.”
“Well then,” his mother urged. “What are you waiting for?” She gave his arm a firm yank. “Go and rescue her from that awful boy.”
In seconds he was striding up behind Dani, not realizing that he’d practically shoved people out of the way in his haste to get to her. He was still a short distance away when he heard Maddie snarl, “Why don’t you crawl back under the rock you emerged from, you slimy toad?”
Ashton-Hall, looking like a blond male model, dismissed Maddie with a flick of one perfectly manicured hand, his ice-blue eyes never leaving Dani’s face.
“Get lost, Madeleine. I’m trying to have a conversation with my...wife.”
His eyes were sliding over Dani’s body with a knowing predatory light and it had a snarl rising in Dylan’s throat. His words—and Dani’s visible flinch—shocked him into halting a few feet from the group. He could only blink back the red tide of rage rising up inside his head.
What?
“Ex!” Maddie yelped, bristling with fury and looking as if she wanted to strike him. “Ex-wife, you mean.”
