Harlequin Medical Romance December 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 (13 page)

No. She didn't. Sure, some of them would gossip for a few weeks, but once she and Dean parted ways the talk would die down, and they'd move on to something juicier.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she allowed him to ease her onto the floor where others were dancing. This was the second time she'd found herself on a dance floor with him, and it was every bit as heady as the first time. Only this time she wasn't worried about him using her to break some sexual fast, because she was thinking she might like to do a little fast breaking of her own.

With Dean. Who would keep things easy and uncomplicated.

They could probably even remain friends afterward.

Who was she kidding? Stay friends? They weren't even friends now.

Except he'd stepped in and bailed her out when her sister was playing the bully. Had been a great sport when her dad had insisted on evidence that they were indeed seeing each other. If they'd been seriously dating she might even have liked to go out on that hack with him when spring came. Except they weren't, and never would be.

One of her heels tipped sideways for a second, but Dean immediately tightened his grip, preventing her from falling.

“I told you I wouldn't be doing anything fancy in these shoes.”

A low laugh met her ear. “And I knew I would love them as soon as I saw them.”

Little pebbles of regret gathered in her stomach. This was what she wanted someday. A partner who would catch her when she stumbled, who would walk beside her through life.

Close your eyes and don't think, Jess. Just feel. That's all tonight is about.

Her fingers slid from his shoulder to the lapel of his tux and curled around it. Just beneath the expensive fabric, his muscles flexed against her touch. Because he liked it?

She hoped so. If this night didn't end with them going back to his place—or hers—she was going to be disappointed. No, more than that, because Dean had been tossing around little innuendos from the time he'd picked her up. Surely all of that word play was geared toward a goal. She only hoped she knew what it was.

Dean turned her, and she opened her eyes to make sure she wasn't about to careen into someone and caught sight of Isabel.

She was standing next to Sean Anderson, and neither of them looked very happy. In fact, when she tuned her ears, she could swear they were in the midst of a heated argument, although she couldn't hear the words past the orchestral music. Just then a sprig of green was placed over the arguing pair's heads, and the rhythmic clapping began. This time she could hear the “kiss her, kiss her, kiss her” coming through loud and clear.

Oh, no! The converging her friend had been so anxious to avoid. Mack Trimble, the male nurse who was holding the mistletoe over the pair with a mischievous grin, received a death glare from Isabel for his trouble, then she turned and stalked away from both him and Sean. Even from here, Jess could see a muscle working in Sean's jaw, but he didn't go after her. He stood there for another minute or two, totally ignoring Mack, who, along with the crowd, realized they weren't getting any satisfaction this time.

Her eyes met Mack's and in slow motion she watched as his brows went up. Horror streamed through her as the man made a beeline toward them.

“We need to get out of here.” Jess had barely squeaked out the words when Mack was on them. The shorter man was barely able to hold the sprig high enough to reach over Dean's head. The chanting began anew, people seemingly unfazed by the rebuffing they'd received from their last attempt.

A wave of heat surged into her face and she was pretty sure it had turned bright red. Dean, on the other hand, didn't seem mortified in the least.

“Too late,” he murmured. “Maybe we should give them what they want.”

“But what about—?”

His lips covered hers, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. And right now, Jess wasn't even sure what that was.

Vaguely she heard the beginnings of an “oooooooh” from the partygoers because this kiss was no peck and release as most of the other ones had been. Dean's lips remained in place, his fingers going to the back of her head as if meaning to hold her where she was. Ridiculous. She wasn't going anywhere. As surely as electricity held its victim a prisoner of its force field, Dean's sheer presence kept her in place.

The fingers at his lapel tightened until she was hanging on for all she was worth.

Then Dean was gone and the spell broke. A huge ball of laughter went through the ballroom and she realized they'd been kissing long enough to have gathered the attention of a whole lot of people.

Mack, pleased to have gotten so much bang for his buck, bowed and wiggled the mistletoe, pointing it at person after person, only to have them wave him away. A minute or two later, the revelers went back to doing whatever they'd been doing before the excitement started.

She caught Isabel's eye from one of the nearby groups. Her friend mouthed “sorry” and then disappeared, ducking through another cluster of folks.

“I can't believe you did that,” she snapped.

One brow went up. “Did you want me to stop?”

Lie. Say you did. That this was a big mistake, and that he needs to take you home pronto.

“I want you to take me home...” There. She did it. She'd gotten the words out. Only there were more consonants and vowels swirling behind the ones she'd released, forming words and sentences that she was powerless to stop. “I want you to take me home and finish what you started.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

D
EAN
'
S
BREATH
RUSHED
from his lungs at her words. They were standing in the middle of the dance floor, where he was still reeling from that kiss. Evidently, he hadn't been the only one affected.

And if she was asking him for what he thought she was, Dean was only too happy to oblige. He'd been fighting his attraction for her from the moment he saw her with her niece tucked in her arms, and he was tired of warning himself away from her.

Maybe this wasn't a bad thing. Jess didn't just tickle his lust and then make him want to run as soon as it was satisfied. This was more than that. For the first time in his life, he found himself wanting to make love to a woman and maybe even stick around afterward.

That thought was enough to make his gut clench. Not enough to make him back out, though.

Hell, he couldn't sort all of this out now. That could happen later. Once he got her out of those shoes.

Or maybe not.

Maybe she would stay in them the first time.

He didn't want any misunderstandings about what his intentions were. “If we leave now, it's not going to be for a quick roll in the hay. I'm going to keep you there all night.”

Jess didn't bat an eye. “Who said I was letting you leave before I'm done with you?”

The fires he'd banked time and time again flared to life. He touched the toe of his dress shoe to the sandals hidden beneath her dress. “I want the shoes left on.”

They were standing in the middle of the dance floor, no longer moving. Instead, they were staring at one another.

Jess smiled. “Then I want yours on as well.”

A mental picture of both of them in bed with nothing on but their shoes made him laugh. “Touché.”

He threaded his fingers through hers. “Shall we continue our bargaining someplace that's a little more...private?”

“Definitely. Because I have some demands of my own.”

His flesh gave a twitch that bordered on painful at that. He was rapidly getting the feeling that Jess's reputation for remaining cool and levelheaded only extended to the workplace. There'd been hints of something simmering below the surface on other occasions. Right now, he was only too ready to find out what that might be.

“In that case...” He towed her through the crowd of dancers not caring that people would talk. They'd been talking about him from the day he'd arrived at Cambridge Royal. For once, they would get it right. He was taking Jess home for exactly the reasons they thought he was. “My place...or yours?”

“Where do you live?” Her words came from behind him.

“Farther out than you do.”

“Mine, then.”

“I like the way you think.” They reached the door and the bellman took his valet ticket, opening the door for them.

“Your vehicle will be here momentarily, sir.”

He didn't want to have to wait a moment, or even a second. Nodding at the man, he regretted not being able to go and get his car himself and be on his way.

What was with this sudden impatience? He was normally all about the slow buildup of anticipation. Instead, his skin felt prickly and tight as if he were going to split apart.

She shivered against him. “My coat. I forgot it.”

Glad to have something to take his mind off his thoughts, he said, “I'll get it.”

He draped his tuxedo jacket around her shoulders and waited for her to slide her arms through it. She then handed him her coat-check ticket. “I'll be right back,” he said. Once he was in line, his mobile phone, which he'd muted for the party, vibrated in his pocket.

“Damn.” He half muttered the word, wondering if he should just ignore it. What if it was the hospital, though, and something had gone wrong with Marissa or one of his other patients? Not something he was willing to risk.

He pulled the instrument from his pocket just as he reached the coat-check attendant. He handed her the ticket and turned away to check the screen on his phone.

It was a number he didn't recognize. He scrolled through his recent calls to see if he could place it and saw a few more like it. It hit him. It was his father.

His teeth ground against each other. No. He was not going to let the man ruin tonight the way he'd ruined plenty of nights in his childhood. He shut the caller down with the press of a button and then went through the screens until he found the block feature and activated it for that number.

Retrieving Jess's coat and doubly glad they were going to her house in case his father somehow tracked down his address, he noted that his car was finally waiting in front of the hotel. The last thing he wanted was for his dad to show up at his door while Jess was there—or, worse, if he was fresh from a binge of drinking and snogging.

He got outside and accepted his keys from the valet and pressed a few bills in the man's hand. When Jess started to shrug out of his jacket he shook his head, his reasons for being here slamming back through his gut. “I like seeing you in it. Keep it on.”

Her smile washed away the last remnants of doubt about doing this, especially when she snuggled deeper into the garment as if she liked the feel of it.

He hadn't lied. He liked seeing her in it. Imagined her wearing his white dress shirt the next morning as they ate breakfast, her nipples just visible...

And thoughts like that would get him into an accident before they'd even arrived at their destination.

He held open the door and waited until she was in before moving around to the driver's side and climbing into the vehicle. “Music?”

She leaned her head against the headrest. “I'm good.”

He found his fingers going to her nape, his thumb stroking over that contrasting streak of hair. “I have no doubt of that, Jess.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Infuse everything I say with a meaning that makes me want you.”

“Do you—” his blood pumped through his veins “—want me?”

“Yes. And I don't want music. Or anything else. I just want to get home and get what you promised.”

Maybe the impatience he'd felt earlier wasn't all that unusual, since she seemed just as anxious as he was. The thought reassured him. His one-night stands normally had an expiration date of twenty-four hours. Never before had he gone out with a woman and then waited weeks to sleep with her. That had to be why he felt so off balance right now. As soon as he did this and got Jess out of his system, he'd be fine.

Except he wanted to make one thing perfectly clear.

He started up the car and pressed the accelerator, the powerful motor responding instantly. “I still want the shoes.”

“You've got them.”

With that, he put his father out of his head and the vehicle into fast motion. He agreed with her wholeheartedly. All he wanted was to get to her house, shut her front door and start doing some of the things he'd imagined doing for the last three weeks.

* * *

As soon as her driveway came into sight, Jess breathed a sigh of relief. When Dean's hand hadn't been on the gear shift as he'd maneuvered through traffic, his palm had rested just above her knee, his thumb stroking wicked paths along the outside of her thigh. Her leg was covered by her dress, but it might as well have been bare skin from her reactions. She was sure that he was going to notice her squirming pretty soon as the heat inside of her bubbled to the surface time and time again. In fact, if he'd suggested pulling to the side of the motorway and taking her right there, she didn't think she would have uttered a single word of protest.

He didn't get out right away. Instead, he turned to her, a question in his eyes.

“I haven't changed my mind, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Not worried. Just curious.”

“About what?”

He paused as if not quite sure how to ask. “About how your experience with your pickup men went. Was your time with them as easy as you thought it would be?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to shrug and say “of course,” since that was probably what he expected. But she couldn't. For some reason, the words just wouldn't come.

So she shook her head. “I wouldn't know.”

“I don't follow.”

“I didn't go home with either of them. I chickened out.”

His fingertips went beneath her chin as he eased her around to look at him. “Why did you pretend you did, then?”

“I thought you might think I was pathetic.”

“Pathetic? Never.” He leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “And since we're baring all, I have to say I'm glad you didn't bring them here.”

“You are?” Surprise went through her. She'd thought for sure the truth was going to scare him off. After all, he was looking for exactly the kinds of encounters he'd bet she couldn't have. And he'd been right. At least until tonight. Until the crazy want inside of her drove her to do something so totally out of character that it scared her.

“Yes. Because I want you all to myself, and I don't want you comparing me to those other two men.”

She should be insulted. Angry. It was the classic double standard, but she couldn't bring herself to be. Because somehow she didn't think he said that to many women. Did that make her special in his eyes?

She didn't know. And she'd better not care one way or the other, unless she wanted him to take off out of here like a bat out of hell.

Forcing a grin and rolling off the first quip that came to mind, she said, “Then you'll have to compete against my imaginary lover, who sets the bar pretty high.”

“Ah, but imagination is nothing compared to the real thing, I promise.”

Oh, she had no doubt about that. Dean was going to bring her to explosive heights, if all those little tastes during the last three weeks were anything to go by. And suddenly, she didn't want to wait any longer to see if she was right. “Are you ready?”

“More than ready. I didn't want to leave this house when you came down the hallway this evening in that dress. Maybe I should have just kept you here, instead of going to the party.”

If he had, she wouldn't have stopped him.

“Then we need to make up for lost time.”

“Sweetheart, no time with you could ever be lost.” With that he exited the car and moved around to open her door, retrieving her jacket from the back.

She'd almost forgotten that she was still wearing his tuxedo coat, but had to admit she loved being surrounded by his scent...with the fact that he'd been wearing it all evening.

Fumbling in her little handbag for the keys to her front door, she finally found them, her hands shaking with nerves. How the hell was she supposed to slide it in the lock?

As if sensing her thoughts, he took the key from her fingers and unlocked the door, holding it open for her to pass through.

Once she did, she reluctantly shed his jacket and started to hand it to him, only to have him wave it off. “I won't be needing that.”

Gulping, she hung it on a peg by the front door and deposited her handbag on a small entry table. Dean laid her coat over the top of his with a smile. “Seems to be becoming a habit.”

“What is?”

He shook his head and then laid his hands on her shoulders, drawing her close. “Being in this house and wanting to kiss you.”

With that he leaned down and did just that, his lips sliding over and over hers until she was trembling with need. Still he made no move to deepen the kiss, instead reaching behind her head and plucking the decorative clip from her hair and letting the locks fall around her shoulders.

“Better,” he whispered. “Because now I can do this.”

He twined a strand of her hair around his finger and something in her belly tightened. No man had ever been that fascinated by her streak of gray before. At least not like this. It was as if he couldn't stop himself from touching it. All she wanted, though, was for him to touch her.

All of her.

So she decided to kick-start things into motion. Reaching up, she tugged on one of the ends of his bow tie, watching as it came undone, her eyes taking in the strong column of tanned skin just above it. His Adam's apple dipped for a second as he swallowed. That alone gave her the courage to push the ends of his tie aside and undo the first button of his crisp white shirt, then the next.

The finger holding her hair flexed, tightening on the locks.

“Jess, what are you doing?” The words were whispered from somewhere above her head.

Smiling, she reached up and nipped his chin. “And I thought you were the experienced one. Or do you normally do this dressed?”

“Not usually. But with you, anything's possible.”

The words sent a shiver through her. How was he able to make her feel so special, as if he hadn't done this a million times in a million different ways?

Two more buttons popped free of their holes. A swath of skin came into view, along with a pec that was surprising on a doctor.

More surprising was when he released her hair and grabbed her hands. “I think that's enough for now.” He reached down and swooped her into his arms. “Bedroom?”

Looping her arms around his neck, she nodded toward the hallway. “Down there and to the right.”

Dean set off in that direction, his strides eating the distance in seconds. He kicked open the door to her room, and she crinkled her nose at the girliness of the space. She'd never identified it as such before, despite the soft colors and a ruffle here and there, but this man's raw masculinity made it seem far more froufrou than it was.

Moving to the bed, he leaned down and laid her on it. She'd expected him to drop her so she'd tensed, waiting for the bounce of the mattress. Instead, he followed her down, his white shirt and black trousers looking out of place against her lavender spread...but in a good way. He went up on one elbow, tracing the skin just above her collar bone. “How does this little beauty fasten? I've been looking for a zipper all night long.”