put my coffee cup down. God knows I sure didn’t need the caffeine. My heart was already pounding as if I’d had a dozen espressos with an energy drink chaser. Matt had that sort of effect on me. ‘I’m sorry about the other day in your office,’ I said.
‘No apology necessary.’ He sat watching me with his steady, measuring gaze, his coffee cup cradled in his right hand, one ankle crossed over his knee.
I glanced longingly at the chocolate biscuits on the desk but I knew if I started on them I might not stop till the whole packet was gone. My parents banning sugar had had the unfortunate effect of making me a sugar binger. I could eat a box of chocolates in one sitting, especially if I was feeling down about myself. I just hoped my liver wasn’t going to hate me for it some time in the future.
Matt leaned forward and pushed the packet of biscuits closer. ‘Go on. One won’t hurt.’
I gave him a twisted smile as I took a biscuit out of the packet. ‘My mum does that.’
‘What?’
‘Reads minds.’
He smiled back. It relaxed his tired and drawn features and made me realise all over again how incredibly attractive he was. I looked at the biscuit in my hand rather than look at his mouth, as I was so tempted to do. All I could think of was how his mouth felt as it moved against mine, how his hands had felt, touching my body. How I wanted him to touch me again. How I wanted to feel his body inside mine, making me come apart with ecstasy.
I was shocked at my behaviour. Shocked and bewildered. If my life had gone according to plan I would now be married and trying for a baby. Instead, I was single and feverishly attracted to a man I had only met a matter of two weeks ago. It was like my body had hijacked my mind. It was acting on its own initiative, responding and sending subtle and some not-so-subtle signals to him that I was attracted to him and available. No wonder he had offered me an affair. I would have to try harder to disguise my reaction to him. Definitely no more getting close to him. And absolutely no touching. I would have to limit my time alone with him, keeping things on a professional basis at all times.
I took a small nibble of my biscuit and chewed and swallowed it, acutely conscious of his steady gaze resting on me.
‘You mentioned your parents are alternative,’ he said. ‘How alternative?’
‘They’re hippies,’ I said. ‘They both come from families with money, but for as long as I can remember they’ve moved from place to place around the country, following whatever lifestyle guru takes their fancy, or their money, or both.’
‘Not an easy way to spend your childhood.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Tell me about it. There’s only so much teasing or tofu a kid can take. But don’t get me wrong. My parents are really cool people. I love them dearly and I totally understand their desire to live an alternative lifestyle. They’re not the sort of people who could ever do the nine-to-five suburban thing. It’s just not the way I want to live my life.’
‘How did you cope, growing up?’
I gave him one of my sheepish looks. ‘I rebelled now and again.’
‘How?’
‘I became a closet carnivore.’
He laughed. ‘Wicked girl.’
I smiled back. He had such a nice laugh. Deep and rich and full-bodied, like a top-shelf wine. Seriously, I could get drunk on hearing it. ‘I can still taste my first steak,’ I said. ‘What an awesome moment that was. Jem and I used to sneak out at night, not to sleep with boys or drink alcohol, like normal girls did. We’d find a restaurant and indulge ourselves in a feast of mediumrare steak.’
He put his coffee cup on the desk, a smile still curving his lips. ‘Did your parents ever find out?’
‘Not so far.’ I licked the chocolate off my fingers. ‘I’m good at keeping secrets.’
‘Handy talent to have.’ There was a glint in his eye that made something in my stomach quiver like an unset jelly.
I looked away and buried my nose in my coffee cup. I couldn’t envisage how I was ever going to confess my folly. The only way I could think to wriggle out of it would be to put in my resignation and start over in a new hospital. It was the only way to save face. But the thought of resigning and reapplying somewhere else was daunting. I loved working at St Iggy’s. It was the first place I’d felt as if I belonged. I was part of a team that brought top-quality health care to the public, and the fact that I had—so far—been allowed to trial some alternative therapies was an added bonus.
I put my coffee cup down with a little clatter. ‘I’d better get back to work. Thanks for the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome.’
I walked to the door but before I could put my hand on the doorknob to open it his hand got there first. My hand brushed against his and I pulled it back as if I’d been zapped. His right arm was stretched out against the back of my right shoulder. I could smell the grace notes of his aftershave as well as his own warm male smell, which was even more intoxicating.
I made the mistake of looking up at him. Our eyes met in a timeless moment that swirled and throbbed with sensual undertones I could feel reverberating in my body.
His gaze dropped to my mouth. ‘You have chocolate on your lip.’
‘I do?’ I swept my tongue over my lips. ‘Gone?’
He brought the pad of his thumb to my lower lip and gently blotted it. ‘Got it.’
Our eyes met again. Held. Burned. Tempted.
I drew in a shaky breath and pulled out of his magnetic field.
I turned and walked down the corridor, but it wasn’t until I turned the corner that I heard his door click shut.
AFTER ANOTHER WEEK I was completely over doing night shifts. My circadian rhythms were so out of whack I was practically brain dead. My eyes were so darkly shadowed I looked like I’d walked off the set of a zombie movie. I had a couple of days off, which I spent painting my sitting room, something I’d had to put on hold while I’d had Freddy staying. Margery was back from her sister’s now so I could stop worrying about muddy paws and mad yapping, not to mention obsessive chewing.
I’d given Freddy a big marrowbone to chew instead of my shoes and electronic appliance cords, but he’d buried it in the back garden and then brought it in covered in mud and slush and left it on my pillow. Nice.
The time off had also given me some space to work on the hospital ball. I’d gone back to the hotel and talked to the catering manager and I’d ordered the decorations and got posters printed and had them hung around the hospital. The ticket sales had been slow until I had taken over, which was rather gratifying. It seemed everyone was delighted with the idea of a fancy-dress ball and were madly ordering costumes online or in stores.
When I got back to work after my days off I was pleased to hear Jason Ryder had been gradually weaned off the sedation, but while his
