‘Thanks.’ She smiled at her friends and slid back behind the wheel, grateful it was only a very short distance to the surgery.
She threw him a quick glance, pleased to see he was continuing to drink. His eyes were closed and he was stretching out his leg as much as the confines of the car would allow. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m getting too old for this,’ he joked. ‘Don’t worry,
chérie
, the cramp will ease.’
It certainly would once she had a chance to work on those calf and thigh muscles. But she made no comment as she parked outside the surgery, unlocked the door and helped Gabriel inside. The problem with her plan only hit her once they were in the physio room.
Alone.
And Gabriel had gone behind the curtain to take off his football boots, socks and shorts.
Oh, sweet mercy.
Now he was lying face down on the treatment table. True, he was still wearing his football top but the towel covering his lower half reminded her of the day they had met. Lauren swallowed. She was a professional. She could do this. She could put hands on Gabriel’s scrumptious body and give him a therapeutic massage without thinking about or acting on any of the salacious and erotic fantasies running through her mind.
Of course she could. And would. If she kept telling herself enough, she might even believe it.
Ignoring the way her hands were shaking, she took out a bottle of the embrocation she favoured for working on tired, cramped muscles and approached the table. Biting her lip, she pushed the hem of the towel up to mid-thigh. His legs were beautifully sculpted, all toned muscle and supple, dark skin.
‘L-let’s get these knots sorted out,’ she murmured, cursing her lack of control. ‘Ready?’
‘Do your worst, Lauren.’
‘Right.’
She poured oil into her hands and rubbed them together to warm it, telling herself to forget all the ‘worst’ things she really wanted to do to him and focus on the professional massage. Sucking in a steadying breath, she touched him for the first time. Her hands settled low on his calf, feeling the tightness of the muscles in spasm as she pressed upwards with deft strokes to the back of the knee. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on how wonderful it was to touch him, or let her gaze to move any farther up to where the towel brushed his thighs and draped across the enticing shape of his rear.
Gabriel groaned as her thumbs circled deeply into his flesh. ‘
Mon Dieu
, that feels good.’
The sultry roughness of his voice shimmered to every nerve ending.
He
certainly felt good, his skin warm and male beneath her fingers. She worked slowly up his leg, relaxing the muscles of the calf and thigh, feeling his tension ease while her own magnified. No matter how hard she tried to remain professional, to keep her touch neutral and impersonal, she had never been so intensely aware in her life. She wanted this man as she had never wanted anyone before. The temptation to caress, to glide her hands higher and allow her fingers to explore his body was overwhelming.
Lauren was relieved that Gabriel didn’t talk. She didn’t think she could. Indeed, he seemed unaffected, his head turned to one side, resting on his crossed forearms. His eyes were closed, and he gave every impression of being relaxed and at ease, while she was on red alert, aroused and aching. It was mortifying.
‘Turn over now, please,’ she directed, injecting as much calm unconcern into her voice as she could manage.
‘Lauren…’
She reached for the bottle of oil. ‘Hmm?’
‘I think it is fine now,
chérie
,’ he stated, sounding oddly wary.
‘Nonsense,’ she riposted briskly. If he could do this without batting an eyelid, so could she. ‘I haven’t finished massaging the leg.’
‘But—’
‘Please, Gabriel.’
He huffed out a breath, and she frowned, wondering what the problem was as he continued to hesitate. She waited endless moments before he slowly rolled over. Her pulse rate rocketed and her throat closed as the reason for his reticence became apparent…the tented towel gave evidence to the fact that the extent of his arousal matched her own. She couldn’t look away. Her stomach knotted with an ache of need, her heart pounded, and she could feel her nipples pucker even further in response, sensitive against the lacy fabric of her bra.
Gabriel sat up and swung his legs off the table. ‘Lauren.’ His hands cupped her face, raising it until she was looking into eyes so dark and hot with desire she felt singed from the fire.
‘Gabe…’
His name had barely whispered from her lips before his mouth met hers, firm, demanding, delicious. The plastic bottle she was holding fell forgotten to the floor, her fingers trailing up the leanly muscled contours of his arms before clinging to the strength of his shoulders. She had longed for this moment.
Had yearned to taste him. And now, at last, she was. There was no hesitancy, no awkwardness of a first kiss. It was as if their mouths, their bodies, already knew each other.
Her lips parted in welcome and she moaned as he accepted the invitation with barely restrained hunger, sweeping inside, taking and giving, stroking and sliding. One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and she stepped up between his thighs. The fingers of his other hand sank into her hair, tilting the angle of her head to deepen the contact between them. His touch was electric, his kiss explosive. Lauren felt as if all the cells and molecules in her body bonded with his, their genes homing in on each other.
The kiss melted her, stealing her reason. Her legs threatened to give way and she tightened her hold, leaning into him for support. She had never felt like this before. The intense, thorough kiss was even more than she had imagined and dreamed about in the time she had known him. She met and matched Gabriel’s every move, never wanting this to end. Her tongue twined with his, and she sucked on him, excited when he nibbled at her lips, teasing and tormenting before deepening the kiss again and sucking back at her. She wanted more, needed everything, revelled in his immediate response, the passion between them intensifying.
Gabriel lost himself in the sweet heat of Lauren’s kiss. The firm softness of her breasts pressed against his chest and he could feel the hardened crests of her aroused nipples through the thin barrier of their clothes. His hand grazed down her back to cup the enticing swell of her rear, and he shaped her, pulling her tighter, swallowing her involuntary whimper as she met the fullness of his erection. An answering groan escaped him as she wriggled closer, rubbing herself against him.
He’d never felt this out of control from a kiss, but the wild chemistry between them had him on the ragged edge already.
A kiss was never going to be enough. He wanted her. Wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman in his life. Needed to see her and touch her and taste her all over. Couldn’t wait to unite their bodies, to possess her fully, to lose himself deep and tight inside her. Lauren and this incredible passion they shared could make him forget all about the problems awaiting him back in France.
A loud knock on the door brought them sharply back to reality. They broke apart, panting for breath. How could he have forgotten where they were? Lauren’s eyes opened, dark grey and smoky with unfulfilled passion, her regret at the interruption matching his own. They stared at each other and he watched as she stepped back a pace, raising shaky fingers to lips that were moist and plump from the incendiary kiss that had taken him to paradise. He could see the pulse beating wildly at her throat, mimicking the way his own heart pounded a frantic rhythm beneath his ribs.
‘Damnez-le,’
he cursed, drawing in a ragged breath. ‘Wrong time, wrong place.’
‘Yes. Gabe…’
No one had ever shortened his name before. He liked it. Liked it that Lauren was the only one who used it, who spoke it with such husky intimacy. Renewed heat prickled through him as they looked at each other, her eyes dark with an answering desire and need. Another knock at the door had Lauren moving farther away, adjusting her clothes and smoothing down the hair he had tousled.
‘Just a minute,’ she called out, her voice sounding shaky and rough.
He licked his lips, still able to taste her. Her subtle sweet-pea scent had invaded him, familiar, arousing, sensual. His whole body was charged with excitement. There was bitter disappointment that they’d had to stop, yet raging anticipation at the thought of how explosive the experience of making
love was going to be for them when the time came. As it inevitably would.
‘I’d better get that.’ She forced the words out but they sounded hoarse.
Knowing he couldn’t delay things now, Gabriel sighed. ‘I know.’
He retreated behind the curtain, listening as she opened the door and had a conversation with Adam.
‘Sorry to bother you, Lauren. I hope Gabriel’s OK. We’ve brought down two more team players needing treatment,’ Adam explained. ‘I’m just going to stitch Jack’s cut—we won, so I’m at him with the needle!—and Dan Somers has pulled his hamstring. It looks a bad one so he’s going to need follow-up treatment. Can you see what you can do for him?’
‘Of course.’
Gabriel heard the thread of reluctance at being interrupted mingle with genuine concern in her voice as she agreed. The son of one of the local farmers, Dan had played for the Penhally team and Gabriel had met him for the first time that day. Hurrying so as not to embarrass Lauren in any way, Gabriel pulled on his shorts then sat down to sort out his socks and football boots. Once he was done, he drew back the curtain in time to see Lauren glance over her shoulder at him, her expression flustered.
‘We’re just about finished here,’ she told Adam. ‘Give me a few moments to make sure Gabriel is all right and I’ll be happy to help Dan.’
‘Thanks, Lauren. He’s in the waiting room. We’ll help him through.’
When Adam had gone, Gabriel moved up behind her and, hidden by the door, turned her to face him, cupping her cheek with one palm, enjoying the feel of her warm, soft skin.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, and it was an effort to drag his gaze away from the temptation of her mouth.
‘It’s not your fault. Next weekend we’ll have some privacy. I don’t want to rush things and have to steal odd moments like this.’ He felt the tremor run through her in response to his words. ‘Thank you for making my leg feel so much better.’
Her smile held a spark of mischief and he chuckled, not sure if it was the expert massage or the fiery kiss that had most eased the pain in his cramping leg. Hearing people approaching along the corridor, Gabriel released her and stepped back, allowing her to open the door again so that Adam and Oliver could assist Dan Somers into the room.
‘How are you feeling Gabriel?’ Oliver asked as Lauren and Adam settled Dan on the treatment table.
‘Like a new man, thanks to Lauren.’
Gabriel noticed the warmth bloom on Lauren’s cheeks as she rejoined them. ‘He should be fine,’ she said.
‘I’m heading home with Chloe,’ Oliver continued, apparently oblivious to the charged atmosphere. ‘Do you want a lift as Lauren’s going to be busy for a while?’
‘Sure. Thanks, Oliver.’
‘Thank
you
for all your help. The match was a huge success. And we won—thanks to our secret weapon in our French star!’ Oliver smiled, his humour infectious.
‘We’ll leave you to get on, Lauren,’ Adam decreed. ‘I have an appointment with Jack and a needle!’
Lauren walked them to the door, and Gabriel hung back, allowing Adam and Oliver to leave ahead of him. He paused, leaning in to whisper in her ear. ‘Later,
chérie
. Next weekend we’ll have time for us,’ he promised, gratified by the flare of desire in her eyes.
Filled with impatience at the wait and disappointed to be leaving her, Gabriel walked away. The time until they could be alone together with no threat of interruptions couldn’t come soon enough.
The frustration and anticipation was every bit as bad as he expected as the following week unfolded and he had little time alone with Lauren. One bright spot on the horizon was the arrangement to spend a morning accompanying her on her home visits. He was happy to give up his time off on Thursday because it meant being with her.
Finally it was Wednesday. His late-afternoon surgery was typically mixed, with cases including a young man with psoriasis, a fifty-two-year-old woman with menopausal symptoms, a teenage girl with a nasty stye, who needed some antibiotic eyedrops, an elderly man with signs of blood in his urine, who needed further tests to rule out infection and determine the source of the bleeding, a toddler with earache and several cases of colds, sore throats and influenza.
‘You done for the day?’ Oliver asked, tapping on the open consulting-room door and stepping inside.
‘Yes.’ Gabriel smiled, waving Oliver to a chair and saving the notes he had written up on his computer to back up his handwritten ones. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I hear you are going out on home visits with Lauren tomorrow.’
And the time couldn’t come soon enough, Gabriel thought, nodding at his friend. ‘That’s right.’
‘You’ll be visiting one of our regular patients, Gertrude Stanbury. She’s quite a character, as I am sure Lauren will explain to you!’ With a bad-boy smile, Oliver sat back in the chair and hooked one ankle over the opposite knee. ‘Would you mind giving her a flu jab? I found out today that the district nurses missed her off their schedule by mistake, and I’m not due to see her for a fortnight. I don’t want her to wait that long. I’d go myself, but I have a full list tomorrow and I’m off on Friday. I could get one of the nurses to fit her in, but as you’ll be there anyway…’
‘No problem, Oliver.’
‘Great. Thanks. Chloe’s free on Friday, too, so we’re planning to get off early for our weekend in Plymouth.’
‘I hope Rachel Kenner is coping.’ Having heard the full story of how the troublesome youth Gary Lovelace had targeted the vicar’s daughter so cruelly, he felt sad for the girl. ‘I’m sure she will be delighted to see you.’
Concern shadowed Oliver’s expression. ‘Chloe is fretting about her. It will set our minds at rest if she’s settled in as happily as possible with her aunt and uncle, as well as managing her pregnancy. Goodness knows how she is dealing with all that on top of losing her father.’