The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish

Ignoring her protests, he brushed aside her hands and took her small, bare foot in his hand. Her skin was satiny soft, just like he’d imagined. And her jasmine scent was driving him crazy. “Those weren’t the shoes you were wearing earlier,” he noted as he gently began to massage the graceful curve of her arch.

“No.” She stared at him, her eyes wide as if she didn’t find his massage at all comforting. “You’d think I’d learn not to give in to vanity when those heels are hardly comfortable to wear for hours on end.”

“You’re beautiful no matter what you wear,” he murmured. She’d changed from her blouse, skirt and heels into scrubs. He preferred the heels, too, as they did great things for her legs. But not if they made her feet hurt.

He propped her foot on his thigh and smoothed his hand up the muscles of her calf, extending his massage and enjoying the freedom of touching her. She let out a tiny moan, a look of pure bliss etched on her face.

His body responded instantly, growing hard with desire as he thought of other ways, far more pleasurable ways, to use his hands and eventually his mouth to make her moan. Unable to tear his gaze from her face, he reached for her other foot, intent on providing the same treatment there.

Her foot on his thigh moved sideways against his groin and suddenly her eyes flew open, her foot jerking away after it came into contact with the undeniable evidence of his hard arousal.

“I’m fine. Really. Thanks so much for helping me to get rid of that foot cramp. I really hate it when that happens, don’t you?” Leila babbled as she avoided his gaze, almost frantic as she felt around for her shoes and socks.

“Leila.” He put his hands over hers, forcing her to stop what she was doing to look at him. “You’re a beautiful woman, and I reacted like any normal man. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head, but her breathing was erratic, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and her pupils were so dilated her eyes almost looked black. Her straight dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders and he wondered if the strands could possibly be as silky soft as her skin. She licked her lips, drawing his attention to her mouth. A mouth he was suddenly desperate to taste. Beneath her thin scrubs he could see her distended nipples.

She was aroused, too. This burning desire he felt was not at all one-sided.

The knowledge was like adding a stick of dynamite to his already smoldering libido.

Chapter Four

DEAR heaven, Quinn was going to kiss her. Leila read his intention in his dark gaze even before his head dipped toward her.

But she didn’t move, didn’t back away. Didn’t even try to stop him.

Because she wanted him to kiss her.

Eyes wide, she held her breath and watched him close the gap between them. He cupped the side of her face with one large brown hand, the rough calluses sending shivers of awareness dancing across her skin as he smoothly, oh, so smoothly covered her mouth with his.

There was no hesitancy, no gentle pressure in a let’s-get-to-know-each-other kind of way. Instead, his mouth was hot and demanding, overwhelming her with barely restrained desire. She was instantly swept away in a blaze of need, hanging on to his broad shoulders and kissing him back with a fierce urgency that was so foreign she didn’t recognize herself.