Tempted by Dr Morales

‘There’s something wrong with the car,’ Cate said, having appalling visions of breaking down a few metres from Juan’s and, yes, ending up staying the night. The complication of a fling with Juan was something Cate did not need and frantically she looked at the dashboard. ‘It’s in manual…’ Cate frowned but Juan had already worked it out—their hands met at the gearstick and Cate pulled hers away.

‘My fault,’ Juan said, ‘my legs are too long.’ He slotted it back into drive. ‘My knees must have knocked the gearstick.’

God, he was potent. Cate’s fingers were still tingling from the brief touch as she pulled up at his apartment. ‘You are coming in?’ Juan checked as she sat with the engine idling and there was a moment when she wanted to be the taxi martyr and drive off—but rather more than that, yes, she wanted a further glimpse of his world.

‘Sure.’

Juan let them all in and it wasn’t quite what Cate had been expecting—it was a furnished rental apartment but a rather luxurious one with stunning beach views and a huge decking area outside. It was everything the well-heeled traveller needed for a few weeks of fun, Cate thought. Yet, despite the expensive furnishings and appliances, there was an emptiness and sparseness to it—a blandness even, broken only by his belongings.

Temporary.

Like Juan.

‘This is the type of music you should be listening to,’ Juan said, slotting his phone into some speakers. The room filled with music that under different circumstances Cate might want to dance to. Taxis were starting to arrive and, as more hospital personnel filled his home, Juan opened the French doors so that people could party inside or out, and then went to sort out drinks.

‘What do you want, Cate?’

He made no secret that his interest was in her.

‘I’ll get something in a moment,’ Cate said, and asked if she could use the bathroom.

‘Straight down the hall,’ Juan said. ‘And to your left.’

She followed his directions but straight down the hall was his bedroom—the door was open, the bed rumpled and unmade, and for a wild, reckless moment she wanted to give in to his undeniable charm, could almost envision them tumbling on the bed, a knot of arms and legs.

Cate pushed open the bathroom door and let out a breath.

This wasn’t like her at all.

She hadn’t ever really envisioned herself that way with anyone, not even Paul. Bloody Juan had her head going in directions it wasn’t used to. A part of her wanted to stop being sensible, ordered Cate and just give in to the feelings he ignited—to be a little wild and reckless for once. She knew that she was sending him mixed messages, that at times she found herself flirting with him in a way she never had with anybody else.

Cate washed her hands and had to dry them on her top because, of course, he didn’t have hand towels, just a wet beach towel hanging over the shower.

Whoops, there went her mind again, imagining that huge body naked on the other side of the glass shower door.

‘Go home, Cate,’ she said to herself. She was about to do just that, but when she got back to the lounge Juan handed her a large glass filled with ice and some dangerous-looking cocktail.

‘I’m driving,’ Cate reminded him.

‘I know, so I take care to make you something nice—it is right to take care of the designated driver.’

It was fruity, refreshing and delicious, yet she didn’t want to be singled out for the Juan special treatment, didn’t want to be the latest caught in his spotlight, but she knew that she was.

Cate danced a little, chatted with her friends, finished her drink and, having stayed a suitable length of time, when she saw that he was safely speaking with others, she said goodnight to Kelly.

‘Stay for a bit longer,’ Kelly pushed.

‘I’m going to go.’ Cate shook her head and slipped quietly away and headed out to her car.

He really had chosen a lovely spot to live—there were views of the bay to the front and behind was hillside. It all looked so peaceful, it was hard to imagine that across Victoria bush fires were raging, Cate thought, dragging in a breath of the warm, sultry night as she went into her bag for her keys.

‘Cate.’

She jumped a little when she heard Juan call her name. Had she not lingered that second she would have been safely in her car; instead, she had no choice but to turn to him.

‘Where I come from…’ he walked slowly towards her, his boots crunching on the gravel ‘…you thank your host and say goodbye…’

‘I didn’t know you were such a stickler for convention.’

‘I’m not,’ Juan admitted, still walking towards her as she backed herself against the car. ‘Just when it suits me.’

‘Thank you for a lovely night.’

‘And in my country,’ Juan continued, ‘the host would try to persuade you to stay for one more drink, would be offended that you were leaving so soon…’ It was all very casual, except his hand had moved to her cheek and was moving a lock of her hair behind her ear.

‘I’m good at offending people,’ Cate said. ‘There really is no need to take it personally.’

‘Don’t go.’ He smiled. ‘I only asked everyone back to get you here.’

She laughed.

She doubted it.

Actually, no, she didn’t, she believed it. Anything was possible with Juan.

‘I might not be called in to work again,’ he said. ‘So this could be it.’

‘It could be.’

‘I’d have liked to get to know you some more.’

She gave him a half-smile, but it wavered. Cate wanted to get to know him some more too, but for what? He made no secret that in a couple of weeks he would be gone. Juan seemed completely at ease with a brief fling, whereas it just wasn’t in her nature.

Except, yes, she wanted more of Juan.

‘Stay.’

‘Juan…’ Cate just couldn’t do it and she tried to make a joke. ‘I’ve got three brothers and they’ve all warned me about guys like you.’

‘What?’ He frowned.

‘Come on, Juan.’ She loathed how indecent he was. ‘Won’t whoever you were in bed with this afternoon mind?’

‘What?’ he asked again as the frown remained, but then it turned into a wicked smile. ‘That was my cleaning lady,’ he said. ‘I fell asleep on the couch, watching daytime soaps.’ He looked down at her, realised fully then that he hadn’t had sex since he’d dumped Christine, since a certain Cate Nicholls had stepped into his life—how with one turn of his head he’d been very turned on. ‘I love daytime soaps in Australia,’ he said. ‘They are filthy.’

Cate let out a small laugh.

She wasn’t sure she believed him about the cleaning lady, but did it matter?