worry about it. You’re not the first woman he’s reduced to tears and you won’t be the last.’ Carly shrugged. ‘I don’t know how he does it, to be honest. I don’t think it’s calculated, or even intentional. He just seems to have that indefinable something which makes women go crazy for him. Maybe it’s inevitable when you’re that good-looking and rich and powerful and—’
‘Do you know,’ interrupted Mary, her voice suddenly urgent, ‘that I’ve never fancied a male patient before? Never. Not once. The thought had never even crossed my mind—though obviously not many men like Luis Martinez end up on the hospital wards. I can’t believe that I allowed him to see it.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s so...so...unprofessional. And so humiliating. And now he’s asked me to go, and you know what? I deserve to be let go.’
Carly didn’t know what to say. She found herself thinking that things were rarely what they seemed. She’d always thought of Mary Houghton as cool and unflappable. She’d seen her as one of those composed Englishwomen who knew exactly what they were doing and where they were heading. And yet one lazy look from the smouldering black eyes of Luis Martinez and she was as jittery as a schoolgirl who’d just seen her pop-star idol in the flesh.
Carly looked at her. Maybe she should be glad of the hard lesson she’d learned all those years ago. Because didn’t they say that heartbreak was almost as painful as bereavement? And who in their right mind would want to be going through what the physiotherapist was clearly going through right now?
She looked at Mary. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
Mary pursed her lips together. ‘Oh, I’ll get over it. And maybe it’s all for the best. Maybe I’ll start dating that sweet young doctor who’s been asking me out for weeks, and forget about a man who’s famous for breaking women’s hearts. Now,’ she said briskly. ‘Let me show you what you need to do to get Luis back to full fitness.’
‘If you’re sure you’re okay?’
‘Carly, I’m fine!’
But Carly noticed Mary delving into her handbag for a tissue and that she blew her nose for a suspiciously long time afterwards.
CARLY COULD FEEL her heart racing like a train, because this was weird.
It was weirder than weird.
Her hands were unsteady as they positioned themselves above Luis’s bare back and she drew in a deep breath, praying he wouldn’t guess how nervous she was. Praying that she wouldn’t behave like a ham-fisted failure as she began to do exactly what Mary had taught her. It wasn’t difficult, she told herself fiercely. Massage was a skill, yes—but it was one that thousands of people did every single day.
But even though the thought of touching Luis’s skin was making her mouth grow dry with fear, it seemed there was no way she could avoid it. He was paying her a bonus. They had agreed that this was a deal. And wasn’t it crazy to have reached this age and still be scared of touching a man? She lowered her hands towards his gleaming skin and thought about the way she’d let the past impact so profoundly on the present. Was she going to let some worthless piece of scum ruin her life for ever?
Because if she was ever going to fulfil her dream of becoming a doctor, she was going to have to touch people like this every day.
Pressing the heels of her palms deep into his silken flesh, she began to move her hands, glad he couldn’t see her face. Wouldn’t he laugh himself silly to know that she was flushed with embarrassment?
It was distracting seeing him like this—wearing nothing but a pair of close-fitting black briefs. Catching sight of him and his billionaire buddies lounging around the pool during one of the few hot days last summer while she carried out a tray of drinks was not the same thing at all.
She thought how pale her hands looked against the olive hue of his skin and noticed that her fingers were trembling slightly as they moved over his warm flesh. But to her surprise her nerves soon left her once she got into some kind of rhythm. If she concentrated on the healing aspects of the task, it was easy to push away her uncomfortable thoughts. In a way, it was the opposite of working with pastry, which needed cool, quick movements. For this, her hands were warm and oily and her movements slow and deliberate. She pushed deep into his latissimus dorsi muscles and he gave a little groan.
‘Is that okay?’ she questioned nervously.
He gave a grunt and she wasn’t quite sure if he was agreeing with her or not.
‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’
Luis shook his head and shifted a little, the rough towel rubbing beneath his crotch, which was precisely where he did not want to focus his attention. Santo cielos! No, she was not hurting him—but he wondered if she was trying to torture him. Resting his cheek against his crossed arms, he closed his eyes, unable to decide whether this was heaven or hell. Or perhaps a mixture of both.
What the hell was happening here?
He could feel her hands moving further down his back, skating tantalisingly over the taut lines of his buttocks before alighting on the tops of his thighs. He swallowed as the minutes ticked by and suddenly he found himself lost in the sensations she was producing. If she was nervous, you would never have guessed it. Apart from that nervous flutter of her fingers at the beginning, she had taken to it as if she had been born to stroke at a man’s skin like this. Who would ever have thought that his mousey little housekeeper had the touch of an angel?
Yet she had been the model of brisk proficiency from the moment she’d greeted him, with nothing but a brief smile as he had lain face down on the bed. She certainly wasn’t flirting with him, which made him wonder what was making him feel so aroused. How could Carly—plain little Carly—manage to make him feel like this? Was it because she wasn’t flirting with him and he wasn’t used to that? For a moment he imagined her requesting briskly that he lift up his buttocks, so that she could slide her hands underneath him. He thought about her taking his rapidly growing hardness between her fingers and stroking him to a blessed and swift release.
His mouth dried.
‘No, you’re not hurting me,’ he said eventually, when he was certain his voice wouldn’t come out sounding like some kind of strangled groan.
She continued to work in silence. He could feel her fingers sinking deeper into his flesh and as the muscles began to loosen up beneath her touch he couldn’t seem to stop himself fantasising about her some more. He wondered what her breasts might look like if she were to remove that hideous overall she was wearing. An image of pale mounds tipped with rosy points swam into his mind with disturbing clarity. He pictured his tongue tracing a slow, wet circle around one puckered nub and he shifted his aroused body again in a vain bid to make himself comfortable.
The movement must have registered, for her hands stilled.
‘You’re sure I’m not hurting you?’
Against the lavender-scented doughnut of a pillow on which his cheek was resting, Luis shook his head. ‘No,’ he said huskily. ‘You have a very...natural touch. I can’t believe you haven’t done anything like this before.’
‘Mary was very helpful. She showed me exactly what to do. She said that if I pressed firmly on key parts of the body...like this...that it would
