The Doctor's Christmas Bride (13 page)

Turning her attention back to the road, she turned
right and followed the road for a while then gradually realised that it didn’t look at all familiar.

She carried on for a while, hoping to see a sign of some sort, but there was nothing. The snow was falling heavily now and she could barely see the road in front of her so it was a relief when she saw the lights of a pub ahead. At least they’d be able to find out where they were.

She stopped the car and Jack gave a yawn.

‘Are we home?’

Bryony slumped back in her seat and braced herself for some serious teasing. ‘I haven’t got a clue where we are.’

There was a moment’s silence while Jack squinted at the pub. ‘Well, if you had to get us lost, Blondie, at least you did it by a pub,’ he said mildly, undoing his seat belt and opening the car door.

‘Where are you going?’ She stared at him. ‘Are you asking for directions?’

He grinned. ‘Of course I’m not asking for directions. I’m a man. But I’m going to check whether the road is open further on. My ego doesn’t want to spend the night stuck in a snowdrift. It isn’t well enough insulated.’

He vanished into the pub and reappeared moments later, his expression serious. ‘As I thought, the road is blocked ahead and they won’t be able to clear it until the morning. We can stay here for the night. Do you need to ring your mum?’

Bryony shook her head and unfastened her seat belt. ‘She’s got Lizzie until tomorrow night. They’re going Christmas shopping together tomorrow.’

‘Great. In which case, we’ll stay here for the night
and they can clear the road while someone cooks me bacon, sausages and mushrooms for breakfast,’ Jack said cheerfully, holding the door open and grabbing her arm so that she didn’t slip.

‘I haven’t got anything to sleep in,’ Bryony protested, and Jack shrugged, pushing open the door of the pub and hustling her into the warmth.

‘You can sleep in your underwear,’ he drawled, ‘unless you’d rather sleep in mine.’

She shot him a withering look and the amusement in his blue eyes deepened.

‘Just a suggestion.’

The landlady smiled at Jack and handed over a key. ‘It’s the last room. You’re lucky. It’s the honeymoon suite. We did it up specially because we have so many couples up here looking for somewhere to spend a romantic night.’

Bryony followed Jack up a flight of stairs, a frown on her face. ‘The last room? There’s only one room? And it’s the honeymoon suite?’

‘It’ll be fine.’ He unlocked the door. ‘I’ll sleep in the armchair.’

But there wasn’t an armchair. Just an enormous bed draped in fur and satin, a small dressing room and a huge, marble bathroom.

They looked at each other and Bryony gave a snort of laughter as she saw Jack’s face.

‘It’s the honeymoon suite, Jack,’ she cooed, unable to resist teasing him and he shook his head, gazing round the room in disbelief.

‘I knew there was a reason I never wanted to get married.’ He peered at the bed in amazement. ‘Hasn’t Lizzie got a bed just like that for one of her dolls?’

‘There’s no chair,’ Bryony said, glancing round for some alternative suggestion. ‘You’ll just have to sleep on the floor.’

‘There’s no way I’m sleeping on a fluffy carpet.’ Jack ripped off his jacket and dropped it over the end of the bed. ‘That’s an emperor-size bed at least. There’s plenty of room for two of us in that. And if we shut our eyes tightly we can probably forget about the satin and fur.’

Bryony stared at him. He was suggesting that they sleep in the same bed?

Jack took one look at her face and lifted an eyebrow in question. ‘We’ve known each other for twenty-two years, for goodness’ sake. Don’t you trust me, Blondie?’

Bryony looked at the bed and swallowed. She trusted him. It was herself she didn’t trust. But she could hardly protest without revealing what she felt for him.

So she’d climb into the bed, turn her back on him and try and forget it was Jack lying next to her. It wasn’t as if the bed was small…

Throwing a casual smile in his direction, she walked into the enormous bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her.
Oh, help!

She stared at herself in the mirror and wondered whether she should just sleep in her dress. It was either that or take it off, and if she took it off…

She was still standing there five minutes later when Jack banged on the door. ‘Have you been sucked down the plughole or something? Hurry up!’

Bryony closed her eyes briefly and then decided that she may as well get on with it. He was obviously
totally indifferent to the fact that they were about to spend a night in the same bed, so perhaps she could be, too.

She used the toiletries and then opened the bathroom door and gave him a bright smile.

‘All yours. You’re going to
love
the mermaid taps.’

She strolled past him, waited until she heard the door close and then wriggled out of her dress and leaped into the bed, still wearing her underwear. The bed was huge and absolutely freezing and she lay there, her whole body shivering, wondering how she was ever going to sleep.

She heard sounds of the shower running and then finally the door opened and Jack appeared, a towel wrapped around his hips.

Bryony’s heart started to thud rhythmically in her chest and suddenly she didn’t feel cold any more.

She’d seen his body before, of course. In the summer at the beach. In the swimming pool when they’d taken Lizzie together. But she’d never seen his body when she was lying half-naked in bed. Suddenly all she could think about was the fact that he was about to slide in between the sheets next to her.

And he wasn’t wearing anything.

In the dim light of the bedroom he was breathtakingly sexy. Her eyes followed the line of his body hair, tracking down over his muscular chest, down his board-flat stomach and down further still until it disappeared under the towel.

Refusing to allow herself to even think about what was underneath the towel, Bryony forced herself to breathe before she passed out. ‘Are you planning to wear a towel to bed?’ she croaked, trying to keep it
light but feeling anything but light. In fact, her whole body felt heavy.

Jack eyed the bed with amusement. ‘This bed is huge. I’m going to need a grid reference to find you.’

‘You don’t have to find me,’ Bryony said hastily. ‘It’s really late. Just go to sleep.’

And with that she rolled over and closed her eyes tightly. Not that it made any difference at all. Even with her eyes shut she could still see every inch of his incredible body. The image was embedded in her brain and when she felt the bed dip slightly and heard him switch the light off, she curled her fingers into the duvet to stop herself from reaching for him.

For a moment neither of them moved and then he cursed softly. ‘I’m developing frostbite. This bed is freezing.’

‘Just go to sleep, Jack.’

‘I can’t go to sleep, my teeth are chattering too much.’

She gave a sigh and turned towards him, telling herself that it was dark anyway so she couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see her.

‘Well, go and put your shirt back on.’

‘I’m not sleeping in my clothes.’

She chuckled. ‘Put my clothes on, then.’

‘Good idea. I could wear your dress as a T-shirt.’ He gave a shiver. ‘Alternatively, we could cuddle each other. Warm me up, woman, or I’ll be found dead in the morning.’

Before she could anticipate his next move, he reached for her and pulled her firmly against him so that they were lying side by side and nose to nose.

‘Jack!’ She tensed and planted her hands firmly on
the centre of his chest and pushed against him, but he didn’t budge.

‘Just relax, will you?’ His voice sounded very male in the darkness. ‘You know as well as I do that bodily warmth is an important source of heat.’

A source of heat?

Being this close to him, her fingers tangled with the hairs on his chest, her palms feeling the steady thud of his heart. It wasn’t heat she was producing, it was fire.

And she realised that he wasn’t cold at all. His body was warm and hard and throbbing with vital masculinity and it was pressed against hers.

‘Jack, I can’t—’

‘Shut up, Blondie.’ He slid a hand round the back of her neck and found her mouth with his. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and her mouth opened under his, breathing in his groan of desire.

‘Jack, this is a mistake.’

‘Probably.’ His mouth was warm against hers, his kiss maddeningly seductive. ‘But I like making mistakes. It’s the only thing that prevents me from being completely perfect.’

She chortled and thumped his shoulder. Or at least she meant to thump his shoulder, but somehow her fist uncurled itself and she slid a shaking hand over the smooth skin, feeling the powerful swell of muscle under her fingers.

‘Jack…’ This time her voice was a whisper and he rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his.

‘Stop talking.’ He brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her again and suddenly she was kissing
him back. And it felt like all her dreams because darkness was where she always dreamed about Jack, and when she dreamed, this was always what he was doing.

Kissing her.

And in the darkness the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was only Jack and the seductive brush of his mouth against hers, the erotic slide of his tongue and the weight of his body holding her still.

She felt his hand slide down her body and then his fingers found her tight, aching nipple through the silky fabric of her bra. She arched into his hand and he deepened the kiss, seducing her with every stroke of his tongue and every brush of his fingers. He removed her bra with an expert flick of his fingers and then reached out and switched on the lamp by the bed.

Bryony gave a gasp and looked at him in confusion. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking at you.’ The expression in his eyes was disturbingly intense. ‘I’m looking at you.’

Colour seeped into her cheeks and she reached out a hand to switch off the light, but he caught her arm and pinned it above her head.

‘Jack, please…’

‘I want to look at you because you’re beautiful, Blondie, do you know that?’ His voice was hoarse and he dragged the covers back, his eyes sliding down her body with male appreciation. Then he lifted a hand and touched her hair, running his fingers through it and stroking it as if he was seeing it for the first time.

She lay beneath him, powerless to move, watching
in breathless anticipation as hunger flared in his eyes. It was the look she’d always dreamed of seeing and suddenly her breathing was shallow and every nerve ending in her body tingled.

She didn’t know what had finally changed for him but she wasn’t going to question it.

For a suspended moment they stared at each other, and then he brought his mouth down hard on hers.

Her hunger was every bit as intense as his and she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck, her heart beating frantically as she arched against him. He kissed her until she was crazy for something more and then he lifted his head fractionally, his breathing unsteady as he looked down at her. His eyes glittered strangely in the dim light and for once there was no trace of humour in his expression.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ His voice was husky with unfulfilled desire and her own breathing jerked in response to this blatant evidence of masculine arousal.

‘No.’ Her hand slid down the warm, smooth skin of his back. ‘Don’t stop.’

Something flared in his eyes and he slid down her body, his tongue finding a path down her sensitised skin. His mouth closed over the tip of one breast and she cried out, sensation stabbing the very heart of her. He teased her skilfully with slow flicks of his clever tongue and then, when she was writhing and sobbing beneath him, he sucked her into the heat of his mouth and she gasped and sank her fingers into his dark hair, holding him against her. She shifted restlessly, trying to relieve the throbbing ache between her thighs.
Immediately his hand slid downwards, ready to satisfy her unspoken request.

With a swift movement he removed her panties and then moved back up her body until he was staring down at her, his glittering blue eyes holding her captive as his hand rested on her most intimate place. He looked dark and dangerous and unbelievably sexy and she was burning with a sexual excitement so intense that she felt as though her whole body was on fire.

And then he bent his head and took her mouth in a slow, seductive kiss and she gasped as she felt his long fingers stroking her for the first time. He explored her with an expert touch, the maddening caress of his fingers driving her wild. And all the time his eyes held hers, stripping down all the barriers between them, his gaze every bit as intimate as his touch.

She lifted a hand and ran her fingers over his rough jaw, loving the male contrast to her own softness. And suddenly she wanted to touch him as he was touching her. Her hand trailed over his wide shoulders and down his powerful body until her fingers closed around the pulsing heat of his arousal. He felt hot and hard and excitingly male and she stroked him gently until he muttered something under his breath and reached down.

‘Stop.’ His voice was thickened as his hand closed over her wrist. ‘You need to give me a minute.’

But she didn’t want to give him a minute. She was
desperate
, her body driven to fever pitch by his skilled touch.

She curled her legs around him, consumed by a feminine need so powerful that she raked his back with her nails in desperation.

‘Jack,
please
…’

Breathing heavily, he slid an arm beneath her and she felt the silken probe of his erection against her. She arched invitingly and he entered her with a hard, demanding thrust, filling her with a heat and passion that she’d only known in her dreams.

She cried out in ecstasy and he gave a groan and thrust deeper still, his eyes locking with hers, fierce with passion. And she was lost in that gaze, the connection between them so powerful that she felt part of him.

‘Bryony—’

It was the first time she could ever remember him calling her by her name and she stared into his eyes, overwhelmed by emotion and sensation, every part of her body feeling every part of his. And then he started to move slowly and with every measured thrust he seemed to move deeper inside her, closer to her heart. She felt his strength and his power and was consumed by a rush of pleasure so agonisingly intense that she sobbed against the sleek muscle of his shoulder. She clung to him, fevered and breathless, totally out of control and not even caring. Every time her eyes drifted shut he muttered, ‘Open your eyes.’ And so she did, and finally she couldn’t look away as he drove her higher and higher until finally she felt the world explode and her whole body convulse in an ecstasy so powerful that it pushed him over the edge and she felt the hot, hard pulse of his own climax.