Tempted By Dr Off-Limits

She shrugged.

‘I was hurt, humiliated. I felt betrayed. I sat in that hotel room and felt like a prize idiot. I felt as though I didn’t know who I was.’ She’d wondered if she was less of a woman, less sexy, less desirable. Not that she was about to tell Fitz that. ‘And then I had what I call my “light-bulb” moment; I realised it was more about my pride being hurt than me actually being hurt, and I asked myself why I was letting someone else’s actions shake my belief in myself.’

‘That’s very logical.’ Fitz didn’t look convinced. ‘Very controlled.’

She smiled wistfully.

‘Isn’t that the point? I realised we’d been growing apart for a very long time. He was a...sportsman.’ No need to name names. ‘He spent a lot of time training and travelling. And my career is very demanding. I think a part of me was still in love with the idea of childhood sweethearts, when in reality we’d fallen out of love a long time ago. We didn’t see each other like regular couples tend to, and we weren’t really bothered.’

If she calculated it—which she hadn’t been able to stop herself from doing a couple of times over the last fortnight—between multiple tours of duty, training courses and postings around the country, she doubted she’d spent more than thirty long weekends and a handful of week-long or fortnight R&Rs in Stevie’s company over the last decade or so. At best a couple of hundred days.

‘We didn’t even live together. We always had our own homes, blaming it on the distance, but that was just an excuse. As the money rolled in, each apartment became more and more blingy, and they weren’t my style. I visited but he never gave me my own key. I never needed one, but I guess I now know why he was afraid I might just pop in unannounced.’

‘So that was how you found out? You decided to surprise him with a visit?’

‘The doorman recognised me and let me in, sweet old guy who only did a couple of nights to top up his pension. I don’t know whether he knew the girls were up there, or if he did but thought it was time I knew what Stevie was up to. First time I’d surprise visited in years. Pretty dumb, huh?’

‘Only if you’re talking about him.’ Fitz’s thunderous expression somehow soothed her bruised ego.

Elle wrinkled her nose.

‘It wasn’t just Stevie’s fault. I liked my own space, too. I think in the last ten years we might have seen each other two hundred days. Two hundred days out of three thousand, six hundred and fifty-two-ish.’

Her stomach rolled with guilt.

She’d been pretty much fine with that—they both had, by the end—but in the very beginning how many keys had Stevie offered her? In the beginning how many times had he begged her to visit more? To come to his major league matches? To attend some B-list party? And she’d always found an army-related excuse not to. Then again, where had Stevie been when she’d finally graduated or passed out of her Sandhurst course? Out with his teammates, celebrating his own big wins. Too busy to come to either of the two biggest days in her life.

So what did that tell her about the state of their relationship? They’d had three years as teenagers in the flush of first love unable to stand being apart for even a maths lesson, to adults who hadn’t blinked an eye at being apart for three months at a time. Or, at least, she hadn’t. But, still, she would never have dreamed of cheating on him and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t had the opportunity over the years.

Yet Stevie had. A wave of sadness washed over her. He hadn’t always been that way. He’d changed. Fame had changed him. And, as if to add clichéd insult to even more clichéd injury, his excuse had been that the two bimbos ‘meant nothing’, that they were ‘football groupies’, that as a professional footballer he was a ‘high-profile target’ who had done well to resist their seduction skills as often as he had.

She’d taken time to get her head around that prize gem this last fortnight and finally seen it for the bull it was. Finally, he had professed that he couldn’t be blamed for being lonely and needing physical comfort given how often her work kept her away from him. And that particular knife of guilt had been the one to actually lodge in her back.

She shook her head and took another long drink.

‘So why stay in a hotel?’ he asked curiously. ‘Why not just go back to your own home?’

‘I didn’t want him to follow me down here. I didn’t want him to find me.’

She didn’t want to do something stupid like let him cry and beg and guilt her into taking him back.

‘Anyway, it’s not a subject I want to dwell on. I came here to prove to myself that I could enjoy a night out in my own company. I didn’t bank on how eventful it would be, but I’ve felt more like myself than ever. And I guess meeting you wasn’t a bad bonus.’

She managed a deliberately cheeky smile, something tightening in her chest when Fitz finally stopped frowning and laughed with her.

‘Okay.’ He dipped his head. ‘Then what would you like to do now? Another drink? Another dance? I could just walk you back to your hotel if you’ve had enough.’

There was no hint of suggestion in his tone, not that Elle was expecting there to be any. Fitz was the kind of guy who didn’t crowd a girl, and she appreciated it. His interest in her was clear yet at no time this evening had he made her feel under any obligation. He was utterly secure in his own skin in everything he seemed to do, and it was an incredibly attractive quality.

The funny thing was that the more he gave her space, the closer to him she wanted to get.

‘I think this is what I’d like to do now.’

Before she could second-guess herself, she stretched up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his.

Vaguely she considered it might have been better if she’d remembered to set her glass down first, but then a crackle of energy shot between them and Elle forgot everything else.

Everything stopped in that instant as he bent his head. Fitz didn’t merely kiss her back, he claimed her, expertly and devastatingly, licking through her body and firing up senses she’d never even known existed. His hands lifted to cup her head, fingers entangling their way into her hair as though he’d been waiting to touch it—to touch her—all evening, and Elle held herself closer to his powerful frame.

His mouth was crushing hers, tasting her, exulting in her and, in its ruthlessly exquisite way, crushing any last doubts that she somehow wasn’t enough as a woman. He made her feel beautiful, and desirable, and sexy. Fitz made her feel bolder than she’d ever felt before—at least, outside her work persona—as he helped her to discover a side of herself she’d never dreamed existed. A side of herself that was revelling in every stroke of his sensual tongue.

Her fingers bit into his shoulders and she exulted in the power there. Her entire body rocked against his, almost involuntarily, in a rhythm totally apart from the music’s. A rhythm as old as time, yet one that she hadn’t felt for a long time. And certainly never, ever anything quite like this. She pulsed everywhere. Her head was in a mad spin and her chest felt like a band was being wound tightly around her. Yet however close she pressed her body against his strong, unmistakeably hard frame, it didn’t feel enough. She couldn’t get close enough.

His kisses were like a heavenly sin. His arms around her, locking her in place, were like a sumptuous jail. She could feel every perfect, chiselled inch of him along every inch of her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

Apprehension slithered down her spine, rapidly overtaken by excitement.

She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. And somehow she knew she’d never want one again. No one had ever got under her skin quite the way Fitz had, even in these few hours. And it wasn’t just that she’d always been in a relationship in the past while now she was single. That alone didn’t explain it. She’d worked with enough male army officers in her career to have seen plenty of impressive examples of a man, in confidence, in charisma, in looks. But even if she’d been single, none of them would have affected her quite the way Fitz did. None of them could have tempted her to do something as completely crazy and impulsive as invite them back to her hotel room.

How did she even begin to go about suggesting it?

‘Can we get out of here?’ She reluctantly tore her mouth from his, murmuring nervously. She licked her lips. ‘Maybe go somewhere quieter?’

He peeled her body away from his and Elle was unprepared for the sudden sense of loss.

One hand on her shoulder, the other on her waist, Fitz held her away and searched her face, reading her unspoken suggestion.

‘You’re sure that’s what you want?’

She opened her mouth to confirm it, then paused. She still hadn’t told him they were both army, and she didn’t want to. Tonight wasn’t a night for talking Green, or comparing tours or barracks.

She tried to debate whether she ought to tell him or not.

Military-wise, there nothing compelling her to tell him. They were both single, both commissioned officers, and he wasn’t even in the same corps as her, let alone unit, so there was no conflict. He’d mentioned he was heading out on a tour of duty, that was true, but her tour of duty was a non-combat one so Fitz could be going to a different country, not just region, from her. And even if he was going to the same area, that would mean he’d probably be based out of Camp Razorwire, where she’d spent the first three months of her tour.

But when she returned she would be working in the local civilian hospital almost a couple of hundred miles and about an hour’s helicopter ride away. She’d be working with a different field hospital team on the first wave of a twelve-month hearts-and-minds mission to rebuild the damaged hospital and train the local doctors to carry out surgical techniques for the benefit of the population there.

There was no conflict, no issue, no need to tell him. Tonight she really could be Just Elle. With a clear conscience.

‘Yes, I’m sure that’s what I want.’ She nodded.

Fitz didn’t answer, he didn’t move. He just perused her face again, as if making his own mind up about something.

A horrid thought occurred to her.

‘Is that what you want?’ she asked abruptly.

‘Yes, I want you.’ He didn’t even hesitate. ‘God, I want you.’