Picking up the Pieces

As well he might, she thought with a sudden flare of embarrassment. Her undies were draped over the radiator to dry, scraps of silk and lace, her one major weakness. Hurriedly she scooped them up and shoved them into a drawer, her cheeks flaming.

He was looking at her Christmas cards, his mouth twitching as he pretended to ignore her embarrassment.

‘Um …’ she began, but then floundered to a halt. How could she get rid of him before she made a total fool of herself?

He straightened, as if he read her mind. ‘I’m just going, but before I do, one last thing.’

He crossed the room slowly, purposefully, and held out a card to her.

‘See this?’ he said softly.

It was a picture of a sprig of mistletoe. Belatedly it dawned on her what he was going to do, but she was too late to move, and anyway, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

‘Happy New Year,’ he murmured, and, holding the card over their heads, he wrapped his other arm round her, drew her up against his chest and lowered his mouth to hers.

The sensation was electric, his lips soft and yet firm against hers, and she could feel his heartbeat against her own. She gave a little cry, and he took instant advantage to deepen the kiss.

Dimly she was aware of the card fluttering to the floor as his hands came up to cup her face and steady her against his onslaught, and then she was aware of nothing except the heat of his mouth, the urgent rhythm of his tongue and the way her body ached to know him.

Her hands were on his back, and through the soft cotton of his sweater she could feel the muscles ripple as she kneaded them with her palms.

‘Cassie,’ he groaned, and his hands left her face, one sliding down her back to ease her hips more firmly against his, the other coming round to cup her breast in his large, skilful hand.

One hard thigh nudged between hers, and his mouth abandoned its exploration of her jaw to return to her lips, sucking and nibbling, then soothing with the moist velvet of his tongue.

He was trembling, his body taut with passion, and she arched against him, desperate to eradicate even the tiny space still left between them. There was no thought of stopping him, no way she could find the resolve to push him aside. Her mind had surrendered absolutely to her body’s needs, and at that moment in time, she needed this almost-stranger with the laughing eyes and the ready wit and the clever, clever mouth.

Just then his clever mouth lifted from hers, and he rested his cheek on her hair, his hand leaving her breast to cup the back of her head and tenderly smooth the tousled curls.

Oh, Cassie,’ he said softly after several minutes, and then eased away from her.

His mouth was softly swollen from their kisses, his hair mussed, his eyes dark with wanting.

‘You were right,’ he told her gently, and his voice shook. ‘You shouldn’t have let me in.’

Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him, and she sat down with a plonk on the edge of the bed, stunned.

She tried to analyse what had happened, but her brain didn’t seem able to co-operate. She was awash with sensation, her body alive and tingling, and the only thing that penetrated her awareness was the dull ache of longing that kept her awake for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_379a8794-a5fc-53da-abb5-8bca9391aa41)

NICK was stunned.

OK, it had been a long time — nearly a year, in fact, the longest he had been without a woman since he had gone to college.

Even so …

He dropped on to the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling and rerunning the last few hours.

It had all started in Theatre, of course, with the subtle warmth of her body soft against his side, the slight shift of her hip, the delicate fragrance of her hair — or had it? Had it started when she had crashed into him, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, that same delicate fragrance invading his nostrils and tangling in his senses?

He could smell her still, a faint trace of the scent lingering on his jumper — and small wonder. He had got close enough to her, for God’s sake!

And yet not close enough. His body ached, the heavy fullness taunting him. He closed his eyes and groaned, shifting his jeans to ease the pressure.

Who was he trying to kid? Only one thing would ease it, and, even at his worst, he would have balked at falling so easily into bed with a woman he had just barely met.

He was too old for this, for the raging hormones of adolescence, the uncontrollable reaction of his body, the shattering, all-consuming need for sex. What he needed was a relationship, a full, balanced, mature relationship based on considerably more than just lust.

He rolled on to his front and groaned.

Ok, his mind knew all that. Try telling his body!

He did — for the next two hours. Then he went up to the ward and checked on his patients, to find a pale but unchastened Trevor slumped in the sister’s office swilling black coffee. He glared at Nick balefully.

‘I gather you did a magnificent job.’

Nick snorted. ‘Well, one of us had to, and you were clearly in no condition to be let loose near a patient.’

‘Yes, well, I should keep that to yourself, old chap. Family contacts and so on — wouldn’t look good for the new boy to cast aspersions…’

He levered himself up and groaned involuntarily, then forced a smile. ‘I’ll return the favour one day.’

Nick stepped back out of his way. ‘That won’t be necessary — I like to remain sober when I’m on duty.’

Trevor stopped. ‘I don’t think you’ve been listening tome.’

‘Oh, I have — and I didn’t like what I heard. I won’t be intimidated, I don’t care who the hell you’re related to. If you foul up again, I’ll report you.’

Trevor gave a short, contemptuous laugh. ‘I’m terrified. Excuse me.’

Nick watched him go, disgust and anger warring within him. There was nothing he hated more than people using their contacts — unless it was being threatened by those people.

He went back out into the ward and found the staff nurse on duty at the work station. After discussing last night’s patients with her, he went back to his room, picked up a coat and walked the deserted streets around the hospital until the light faded.

Then he returned to his room, exhausted, and threw himself down on to the bed.

Perhaps now he could sleep, he thought, but the faintest trace of Cassie’s fragrance drifted off his clothes still and he groaned, still tormented by the memory of her sweet softness cradled against him.

Was there no peace?

There was only one thing for it. He was going to have to get to know her — fast!

Cassie had given up all attempts at sleep and was making a cup of tea when the knock came on the door late that afternoon.

She opened it, and stepped back in surprise.

‘Nick!’