brought him to the table. His hand curled around Sophie's wrist as he lifted her hand. The bloodstained tissues rolled off her palm.
'It's just a little nick,' Sophie said hurriedly. 'My own stupidity. The skin on those lumps of pork we were practising on were a lot tougher than they looked. I got a bit carried away.' She laughed a little too loudly. 'Perhaps I shouldn't be allowed to wield a scalpel, unsupervised, after all.'
Oliver didn't appear to be listening. He still held her wrist captive with one hand. With the other he was examining the cut on the underside of her ring finger.
'Right,' he said finally. 'You're coming with me.'
'What?' Sophie scrambled to her feet. She had no choice. Oliver was still holding her wrist like a human handcuff and he was already moving towards the door. 'It's quite clean. I was just waiting for the bleeding to stop completely. Then I'll put a sticking plaster on it.'
'It needs stitching,' Oliver stated. 'Or at least some steri-strips.'
'I can do that,' Sophie protested. They were entering the treatment room. 'Really, there's no need for you to—'
'How are you going to manage that?' Oliver stopped and Sophie found his face only inches from her own. There was a renewed hint of anger in his expression. 'Hold one end with your teeth?'
Sophie made no further protest. She sat meekly as Oliver cleaned and dried the wound. The steri-strips were positioned carefully, drawing the edges of skin together closely enough to heal neatly. Then he put a dressing on top and wound a thin gauze bandage along the length of her finger.
'You'll have to keep it dry for a few days,' he said crisply. 'And the steri-strips will need to stay on for at least a week.'
'OK. Thanks, Oliver.' Sophie was ready to slide off the bed she was sitting on but Oliver was still standing too close. His thigh was touching her knees.
'Rather a shame,' Oliver added.
'Mmm. I never thought I was that clumsy.'
'That wasn't what I meant.' Oliver still didn't move away. 'I meant that it's a shame it's that particular finger. Even when you get your ring fixed you won't be able to wear it for a while. A couple of weeks at least, I should imagine.'
'I'm not worried,' Sophie said quickly. She did not want to discuss her ring. 'It's no big deal.'
'Isn't it?' Oliver managed to give his query an inflection that implied he was talking about far more than a piece of jewellery. Sophie swallowed with some difficulty.
'I've always thought an engagement was quite a sizeable deal,' Oliver continued calmly. 'But maybe if I'd had one as long as yours I might have got rather complacent about it as well.'
'I'm not complacent. Just...'
'Confident?'
'I suppose.' Sophie gave a wriggle to advertise her desire to get off the bed. Oliver failed to take the hint and Sophie now found her knees pressed firmly against his leg. She caught his eye and then wished she hadn't. The intensity was unnerving.
'Josh could be right, you know.'
'Really?' The sensations that seemed to be drawn from Oliver's leg into her own body were fascinating. Sophie could feel them spreading, lodging in the pit of her stomach and tightening her chest wall.
'Maybe you can't be completely confident without some form of comparison.'
The eye contact was locked on. Sophie couldn't have escaped even if she'd wanted to. And she didn't want to. But this was dangerous territory, the closest Sophie had come to real danger that she could think of. And she didn't even want to step back. She cleared her throat nervously.
'Who...who exactly did you have in mind?'
Oliver smiled. A lazy, slow smile that was almost predatory. Sophie felt a flash of real fear as his lips brushed hers lightly. Then they settled more firmly and the fear was banished by a far more electrifying sensation. She could feel that kiss with every nerve in her entire body. Sophie closed her eyes and opened her mouth, dissolving into the sensation as she felt Oliver's hands cradle her head, tilting it far enough
'It's just a little nick,' Sophie said hurriedly. 'My own stupidity. The skin on those lumps of pork we were practising on were a lot tougher than they looked. I got a bit carried away.' She laughed a little too loudly. 'Perhaps I shouldn't be allowed to wield a scalpel, unsupervised, after all.'
Oliver didn't appear to be listening. He still held her wrist captive with one hand. With the other he was examining the cut on the underside of her ring finger.
'Right,' he said finally. 'You're coming with me.'
'What?' Sophie scrambled to her feet. She had no choice. Oliver was still holding her wrist like a human handcuff and he was already moving towards the door. 'It's quite clean. I was just waiting for the bleeding to stop completely. Then I'll put a sticking plaster on it.'
'It needs stitching,' Oliver stated. 'Or at least some steri-strips.'
'I can do that,' Sophie protested. They were entering the treatment room. 'Really, there's no need for you to—'
'How are you going to manage that?' Oliver stopped and Sophie found his face only inches from her own. There was a renewed hint of anger in his expression. 'Hold one end with your teeth?'
Sophie made no further protest. She sat meekly as Oliver cleaned and dried the wound. The steri-strips were positioned carefully, drawing the edges of skin together closely enough to heal neatly. Then he put a dressing on top and wound a thin gauze bandage along the length of her finger.
'You'll have to keep it dry for a few days,' he said crisply. 'And the steri-strips will need to stay on for at least a week.'
'OK. Thanks, Oliver.' Sophie was ready to slide off the bed she was sitting on but Oliver was still standing too close. His thigh was touching her knees.
'Rather a shame,' Oliver added.
'Mmm. I never thought I was that clumsy.'
'That wasn't what I meant.' Oliver still didn't move away. 'I meant that it's a shame it's that particular finger. Even when you get your ring fixed you won't be able to wear it for a while. A couple of weeks at least, I should imagine.'
'I'm not worried,' Sophie said quickly. She did not want to discuss her ring. 'It's no big deal.'
'Isn't it?' Oliver managed to give his query an inflection that implied he was talking about far more than a piece of jewellery. Sophie swallowed with some difficulty.
'I've always thought an engagement was quite a sizeable deal,' Oliver continued calmly. 'But maybe if I'd had one as long as yours I might have got rather complacent about it as well.'
'I'm not complacent. Just...'
'Confident?'
'I suppose.' Sophie gave a wriggle to advertise her desire to get off the bed. Oliver failed to take the hint and Sophie now found her knees pressed firmly against his leg. She caught his eye and then wished she hadn't. The intensity was unnerving.
'Josh could be right, you know.'
'Really?' The sensations that seemed to be drawn from Oliver's leg into her own body were fascinating. Sophie could feel them spreading, lodging in the pit of her stomach and tightening her chest wall.
'Maybe you can't be completely confident without some form of comparison.'
The eye contact was locked on. Sophie couldn't have escaped even if she'd wanted to. And she didn't want to. But this was dangerous territory, the closest Sophie had come to real danger that she could think of. And she didn't even want to step back. She cleared her throat nervously.
'Who...who exactly did you have in mind?'
Oliver smiled. A lazy, slow smile that was almost predatory. Sophie felt a flash of real fear as his lips brushed hers lightly. Then they settled more firmly and the fear was banished by a far more electrifying sensation. She could feel that kiss with every nerve in her entire body. Sophie closed her eyes and opened her mouth, dissolving into the sensation as she felt Oliver's hands cradle her head, tilting it far enough
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