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Authors: Lucinda Carrington
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certain, for her to
admire his sharply defined abdominals.
"Are you happy working here, Dr. Muldaire?"
"Yes," she said simply.
He knotted his tie and put on his coat. She watched him silently.
"I
imagine you're very popular with the patients," he said.
"If you're ill, you tend to like someone who makes you feel better,"
she said.
He smiled.
"And if that person is very beautiful, that's an added bonus." He
moved his body experimentally.
"It still hurts a little," he said.
"I'm sure you'll learn to live with the pain," she said dryly.
He reached the door, opened it, and turned.
"If it gets really bad, I'll come back and see you." His smile was
briefly inviting.
"I'm sure you'll be able to make me comfortable."
She walked past him.
"Come back and see Dr. Draven," she said.
"You're his patient. He's properly qualified too, you know."
"Well, the notorious Senor Nicolas didn't waste much time checking you
out," Peter commented. He lay sprawled across Jacey's bed. The
sunlight, filtering in through the shutters, striped his naked body
with shadows.
"What did you think of him?"
"Conceited," Jacey said. She switched the kettle on and searched in
Peter's cupboard for the coffee jar.
"Sexist." She smiled.
"A typical male animal."
Peter watched her lazily.
"And he didn't attract you at all?"
She turned crossly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Peter sat up.
"Come on," he said.
"You know exactly what I mean.
Nicci's not bad looking, if you like them tall with black hair. And
I'm told he can be very charming, when it suits him." He smiled.
"Does the thought of having sex with him excite you?"
Jacey smiled back.
"What an odd question," she said, sweetly.
"Does the thought of me having sex with him excite you?"
Peter lazed back on the bed.
"Maybe. I think it could be great fun to watch you perform. To
watch
Nicci undress you slowly, and go to work on your mouth, and your neck
and your nipples, and then go down and warm up your clitoris with his
tongue. I'd like to see you panting and losing control, and bucking
and writhing, until he gave you the kind of climax you deserve."
"You're a closet voyeur," Jacey accused.
Peter shrugged.
"Most men are."
She had a sudden suspicion.
"Schlemann didn't suggest anything like that to you, did he?"
Peter laughed.
"No. But I wouldn't mind betting he'd go along with it if you were the
star performer."
"Not a chance," Jacey said.
"I'm not an exhibitionist and I've got no intention of jumping into bed
with Senor Nicolas!"
But was that really the truth? Jacey asked herself, as she tried to
decide what to wear to the Marquez party. Unwanted thoughts about
Nicolas Schlemann were distracting her. She was not vain but she was
sure Peter was right about Schlemann's intentions. If he considered
all beautiful women to be candidates for his bed, he was probably
planning to add her to his list of conquests. Thinking back on their
meeting, she realised how cleverly he had played his hand. It was a
variation of the Mr. Nasty and Mr. Nice Guy interrogation technique.
He had made her angry, and then totally disarmed her by being the
opposite to what she had expected.
Clever bastard, she thought. I was determined not to like you and you
almost persuaded me to change my mind. But although you didn't know
it, you started off with a few advantages. I always did have a soft
spot for tall, slim, dark-haired men. But fancying you, and going to
bed with you, Senor Schlemann, she admonished him, are two totally
different things.
She held her favourite little black dress against her naked body and
surveyed her image in the mirror. Too short? Too sexy? Her other
choices included
admire his sharply defined abdominals.
"Are you happy working here, Dr. Muldaire?"
"Yes," she said simply.
He knotted his tie and put on his coat. She watched him silently.
"I
imagine you're very popular with the patients," he said.
"If you're ill, you tend to like someone who makes you feel better,"
she said.
He smiled.
"And if that person is very beautiful, that's an added bonus." He
moved his body experimentally.
"It still hurts a little," he said.
"I'm sure you'll learn to live with the pain," she said dryly.
He reached the door, opened it, and turned.
"If it gets really bad, I'll come back and see you." His smile was
briefly inviting.
"I'm sure you'll be able to make me comfortable."
She walked past him.
"Come back and see Dr. Draven," she said.
"You're his patient. He's properly qualified too, you know."
"Well, the notorious Senor Nicolas didn't waste much time checking you
out," Peter commented. He lay sprawled across Jacey's bed. The
sunlight, filtering in through the shutters, striped his naked body
with shadows.
"What did you think of him?"
"Conceited," Jacey said. She switched the kettle on and searched in
Peter's cupboard for the coffee jar.
"Sexist." She smiled.
"A typical male animal."
Peter watched her lazily.
"And he didn't attract you at all?"
She turned crossly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Peter sat up.
"Come on," he said.
"You know exactly what I mean.
Nicci's not bad looking, if you like them tall with black hair. And
I'm told he can be very charming, when it suits him." He smiled.
"Does the thought of having sex with him excite you?"
Jacey smiled back.
"What an odd question," she said, sweetly.
"Does the thought of me having sex with him excite you?"
Peter lazed back on the bed.
"Maybe. I think it could be great fun to watch you perform. To
watch
Nicci undress you slowly, and go to work on your mouth, and your neck
and your nipples, and then go down and warm up your clitoris with his
tongue. I'd like to see you panting and losing control, and bucking
and writhing, until he gave you the kind of climax you deserve."
"You're a closet voyeur," Jacey accused.
Peter shrugged.
"Most men are."
She had a sudden suspicion.
"Schlemann didn't suggest anything like that to you, did he?"
Peter laughed.
"No. But I wouldn't mind betting he'd go along with it if you were the
star performer."
"Not a chance," Jacey said.
"I'm not an exhibitionist and I've got no intention of jumping into bed
with Senor Nicolas!"
But was that really the truth? Jacey asked herself, as she tried to
decide what to wear to the Marquez party. Unwanted thoughts about
Nicolas Schlemann were distracting her. She was not vain but she was
sure Peter was right about Schlemann's intentions. If he considered
all beautiful women to be candidates for his bed, he was probably
planning to add her to his list of conquests. Thinking back on their
meeting, she realised how cleverly he had played his hand. It was a
variation of the Mr. Nasty and Mr. Nice Guy interrogation technique.
He had made her angry, and then totally disarmed her by being the
opposite to what she had expected.
Clever bastard, she thought. I was determined not to like you and you
almost persuaded me to change my mind. But although you didn't know
it, you started off with a few advantages. I always did have a soft
spot for tall, slim, dark-haired men. But fancying you, and going to
bed with you, Senor Schlemann, she admonished him, are two totally
different things.
She held her favourite little black dress against her naked body and
surveyed her image in the mirror. Too short? Too sexy? Her other
choices included
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