Read Online Risk of a Lifetime (Mills & Boon Medical) by Caroline Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caroline Anderson
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sorry.’
‘Yeah.’ He was silent for a moment, then he took a breath and turned back to her. ‘I meant to tell you, there’s a little wooden playhouse in their garden. They had it for my brother’s children, but they’ve outgrown it. I wasn’t sure if you’d got room for it or if you’d want it, but you’re welcome to it if it’s any use.’
‘Oh, Ed, thank you. The girls would love a playhouse! Does it come to pieces?’
‘I’m sure it will. I’m not sure how. It might be bolted together. I’ll have a look. It needs new felt on the roof, but otherwise it’s fine.’
‘Don’t they mind?’
He smiled sadly. ‘Grumps is past caring and Marnie would love it to go to a good home. I was talking about you yesterday, and she mentioned it.’
That surprised her. ‘You were talking about me?’
‘Well—yeah. She has a way of getting things out of me,’ he admitted ruefully.
Annie gave a hollow laugh. ‘Sounds like my mother. We’ll have to make sure they never meet. We wouldn’t have a secret left.’
He chuckled and topped up her glass. She hadn’t even realised it was empty. She was obviously drinking faster than she’d realised. Nerves? Probably. She was terrified this was going to be a disaster, terrified he’d take one look at her and run, terrified he’d break her heart if she gave him the chance. What was she doing ? She grabbed a couple of olive breadsticks to blot up the alcohol. ‘These are really nice.’
‘They are.’ He took one, too, then reached for another one at the same time as her and their fingers brushed. Heat shot up her arm like lightning, and she gave a little involuntary gasp and pulled her hand back.
Their eyes clashed—and held.
Her heart started to race, her lips parted, her mouth dried. She swallowed, and slid the tip of her tongue over her dry lips, and he sucked in a breath. Audibly.
For what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, they sat there, eyes locked, unmoving, and then he got slowly, deliberately, to his feet.
Without breaking the silence he put the breadstick down with exaggerated care and held out his hand to her. Her breadstick fell to the floor, unheeded, and she took his hand and let him pull her up. Gently, inch by inch, he eased her up against him, bent his head and touched his lips to hers, and her body went up in flames.
‘Ed...’
She breathed his name against his lips, and he lifted his head, staring down into her eyes as if looking for an answer, and clearly he found it.
‘Not here,’ he growled softly, and, threading his fingers through hers, he towed her in through the conservatory, through the open kitchen dining space, up the stairs and into the front bedroom.
It was white.
Pure white. All of it, the whole house.
Like a sanctuary, she thought, cool and calm and safe.
And then he cupped her face in his strong, long-fingered hands, bent his head and kissed her, and her brain emptied of everything except sensation.
His mouth was hot.
Hot, firm, his lips slightly damp so they clung to hers, tugging them as he nipped and suckled. She felt his tongue stroke the crease between her lips, and her mouth opened, parting for him, his tongue following, delving, probing.
She delved back, duelling with him, dragging a groan up from deep inside his chest.
She felt her legs buckle, but he grabbed her, hauling her hard up against him so she felt the heat pouring off him, the pressure of his erection, the pounding of his heart against her breasts.
And the need. Oh, God, the need. She felt it too, felt the wanting, the desperation, the compulsion to tear off their clothes and feel his skin against hers.
She pushed him away, and he dropped his hands, stepped sharply back and met her eyes. He was fighting for control, struggling for breath, and his eyes were wild.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asked, his voice ragged, and she gave a fractured laugh, her nerves driven out by something far greater.
‘Only if you
‘Yeah.’ He was silent for a moment, then he took a breath and turned back to her. ‘I meant to tell you, there’s a little wooden playhouse in their garden. They had it for my brother’s children, but they’ve outgrown it. I wasn’t sure if you’d got room for it or if you’d want it, but you’re welcome to it if it’s any use.’
‘Oh, Ed, thank you. The girls would love a playhouse! Does it come to pieces?’
‘I’m sure it will. I’m not sure how. It might be bolted together. I’ll have a look. It needs new felt on the roof, but otherwise it’s fine.’
‘Don’t they mind?’
He smiled sadly. ‘Grumps is past caring and Marnie would love it to go to a good home. I was talking about you yesterday, and she mentioned it.’
That surprised her. ‘You were talking about me?’
‘Well—yeah. She has a way of getting things out of me,’ he admitted ruefully.
Annie gave a hollow laugh. ‘Sounds like my mother. We’ll have to make sure they never meet. We wouldn’t have a secret left.’
He chuckled and topped up her glass. She hadn’t even realised it was empty. She was obviously drinking faster than she’d realised. Nerves? Probably. She was terrified this was going to be a disaster, terrified he’d take one look at her and run, terrified he’d break her heart if she gave him the chance. What was she doing ? She grabbed a couple of olive breadsticks to blot up the alcohol. ‘These are really nice.’
‘They are.’ He took one, too, then reached for another one at the same time as her and their fingers brushed. Heat shot up her arm like lightning, and she gave a little involuntary gasp and pulled her hand back.
Their eyes clashed—and held.
Her heart started to race, her lips parted, her mouth dried. She swallowed, and slid the tip of her tongue over her dry lips, and he sucked in a breath. Audibly.
For what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, they sat there, eyes locked, unmoving, and then he got slowly, deliberately, to his feet.
Without breaking the silence he put the breadstick down with exaggerated care and held out his hand to her. Her breadstick fell to the floor, unheeded, and she took his hand and let him pull her up. Gently, inch by inch, he eased her up against him, bent his head and touched his lips to hers, and her body went up in flames.
‘Ed...’
She breathed his name against his lips, and he lifted his head, staring down into her eyes as if looking for an answer, and clearly he found it.
‘Not here,’ he growled softly, and, threading his fingers through hers, he towed her in through the conservatory, through the open kitchen dining space, up the stairs and into the front bedroom.
It was white.
Pure white. All of it, the whole house.
Like a sanctuary, she thought, cool and calm and safe.
And then he cupped her face in his strong, long-fingered hands, bent his head and kissed her, and her brain emptied of everything except sensation.
His mouth was hot.
Hot, firm, his lips slightly damp so they clung to hers, tugging them as he nipped and suckled. She felt his tongue stroke the crease between her lips, and her mouth opened, parting for him, his tongue following, delving, probing.
She delved back, duelling with him, dragging a groan up from deep inside his chest.
She felt her legs buckle, but he grabbed her, hauling her hard up against him so she felt the heat pouring off him, the pressure of his erection, the pounding of his heart against her breasts.
And the need. Oh, God, the need. She felt it too, felt the wanting, the desperation, the compulsion to tear off their clothes and feel his skin against hers.
She pushed him away, and he dropped his hands, stepped sharply back and met her eyes. He was fighting for control, struggling for breath, and his eyes were wild.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asked, his voice ragged, and she gave a fractured laugh, her nerves driven out by something far greater.
‘Only if you
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