Peter Draven led her into an operating theatre so clean and sparkling
that she doubted if it had ever been used.
She turned to him.
"This place must have cost a fortune to build, and I bet it costs a
fortune to run.
Where does the money come from?"
He shrugged.
"Who cares?
There's plenty of it."
"It's the most under-used hospital I've ever seen," she observed.
"All this fantastic equipment.
It seems such a waste."
, "The
patients here want privacy," Peter said, echoing Paulo's comment.
"And they're willing to pay through the nose for it.
We just do our
job, and don't ask questions.
And the operating theatres do get used,
believe me."
"I've been told Hernandez comes here," she hinted casually.
"Lots of people come here," Peter said.
He was standing in front of
her now, and she felt the edge of the operating table brushing against
her thighs.
"Important people."
He was almost touching her.
"If you play your cards right you can have a very nice time."
"If I'm nice to the right people, you mean?"
Her voice was cool.
"Like Hernandez?"
He smiled back.
"You mean you'd fancy Hernandez?
Mind you, he is the Numero Uno around
here, and they do say power is a potent aphrodisiac."
"I'd need more than a potent aphrodisiac to fancy Hernandez," she
said.
"Anyway, I thought Nicolas Schlemann was the real power behind the
throne?"
"Oh, you fancy the tall, dark and handsome Nicolas, do you?"
Peter
nodded.
"Well, I'm not surprised.
Lots of women do."
She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back.
"No, I damn well don't fancy Schlemann, whether he's tall, dark and
handsome or not."
"Nicci will certainly like you," Peter said.
His eyes wandered quickly
over her body in an unashamed sexual appraisal, and then back to her
face.
"But then he always did have very good taste."
She was not immune to the compliment and Peter Draven's body, close to
hers, was beginning to have an effect.
The more she looked at him, the
more comfortable she felt with the idea of a nice, no-strings affair.
"If we had known each other a little longer," she said, "I would think
that was a pick-up line."
He stepped forward.
"You'd^be right, he said.
His blue eyes held hers.
"You fancied me the first time you saw me.
Admit it."
"That's your diagnosis, is it?"
He put his hands on her shoulders, and then let them slide down slowly
to her breasts.
"My expert opinion," he agreed.
His fingers began to unbutton her
blouse.
"I don't think this is the time or the place for a medical
examination," she said but she made no attempt to rebuff him.
"Actually," he leaned closer to her, 'it's exactly the right time and
place."
She felt his hands exploring her skin, and saw him smile with approval
when he realised that she was not wearing a bra.
"Easy access," he said.
"I like that."
His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers exciting her
nipples.
He kissed her on the lips lightly, then harder.
Suddenly she felt both his hands move down over her thighs towards her
knees.
He grasped the hem of her skirt and yanked it up and the
lightweight material fucked up to her hips.
He caught her round the
waist, hoisted her into a sitting position on the operating table, and
stood between her legs.
"Lie back," he murmured.
She felt his tongue caress her ear, felt his fingers tugging at her
lacy briefs.
She tried to push him away.
"Not here, for God's sake.
Someone might come in."
"No one will come in," he muttered.
He had managed to slide her
panties down and the surface of the table felt cool under her naked
bottom.
She saw the round theatre-lights above her and fantasised that
they would suddenly illuminate, displaying her to an audience of
first-year students, who would stare down at her, eager to watch her
making love.
It was a surprisingly arousing fantasy.
Her body tingled
with the need for sex.
Peter was lying on top of her now, struggling with his jeans.
His
erection was so large and urgent that he was having trouble pulling
down his zip.
She felt her hands tangle with his as she helped him,
sensed him wince as the metal teeth scratched his skin.
He gasped,
half with laughter, half with desire.
"Jesus, you're in a hurry, aren't you?"
He entered her strongly, and she moved her hips towards him, tightening
her muscles to pull him deeper.
He began to match her rhythm, his
breathing now more regular.
The tension was building deliciously.
And
then suddenly his body jolted, out of control, and he came with an
explosive groan.
For a moment she felt his full weight on her.
After
a while he propped himself up on his elbows and eased himself off
her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I'm really sorry.
I just couldn't help myself."
She lay on her back for a moment, wondering if he was going to use his
mouth or his hands to satisfy her.
But to her disappointment, he
simply slid off the table and zipped up his jeans.
"That's never happened to me before."
He smiled rather sheepishly.
"You shouldn't be so damn sexy."
Is that supposed to be a compliment?
she wondered Or is he blaming me?
Frustrated sexual tension made her feel shaky.
And irritable.
She
stood up and tidied her clothes.
He watched her.
"I didn't expect that to happen.
I'll make it up to you next time, I
promise."
"What makes you think there'll be a next tune?"
Her voice was
distinctly frosty.
He looked at her anxiously.
"Come on, I'm only human."
"So am I" she said.
"And I like to have an orgasm, just like everyone else."
"Sorry," he repeated inadequately.
She turned and walked towards the
door, and he added dolefully:
"Haven't you ever been overcome with passion?"
Despite herself, she smiled.
"Peter, stop talking like a bad film."
"Well, what would you prefer to call it?"
he persisted.
"Love?"
Her smiled disappeared.
"You're not trying to tell me you're in love with me, Peter?"
"No," he said.
He hesitated.
"But you never know what might happen later on."
"I do," she said.
She stopped and turned to face him.
"Let's get one thing straight.
Sex can be a lot of fun, but romance is
out.
I'm just not interested."
"Fun and games, but no commitment?"
He smiled.
"Well, I won't argue with that.
With you as a playmate, few men would.
Very well then."
He held out his hand solemnly.
"Our relationship will be strictly sex, without the hearts-and-flowers
stuff.
I'll never mention passion, or love, again.
Do we have an
agreement?"
She tapped his hand away lightly, and laughed.
"Maybe," she said.
"Now, how about finishing our tour?"
"I think I've shown you everything," he said.
"Except where I'm supposed to report for duty in the morning."
He laughed.
"The most important thing of all.
You'll have your own office.
Come
and see."
The office was carpeted, decorated in pastel shades, with a huge window
with slatted shutters opening out on to the hospital gardens.
Peter
tapped the brand-new computer on the glass-topped desk.
"You can access all the medical files and the hospital library."
He
tapped the modern.
"And if you get bored, you can surf the Net.
We'll get you fixed up
with an e-mail address."
"Great," Jacey said.
She sat down and switched the computer on.
"Can I send an e-mail right now?
My friend Chris is waiting to hear
from me."
"Chris?"
He smiled.
"I'm jealous."
"Chris is a girl."
He shrugged, still smiling.
"I could still be jealous."
"Chris has three children and a loving husband," Jacey said.
"Definitely not my type.
But I told her I would keep in touch.
I
promised."
She logged on and typed a message: Hi Chris.
I'm here. The