A Dangerous Game (7 page)

Peter Draven led her into an operating theatre so clean and sparkling

that she doubted if it had ever been used.
 
She turned to him.

"This place must have cost a fortune to build, and I bet it costs a

fortune to run.
 
Where does the money come from?"

He shrugged.

"Who cares?
 
There's plenty of it."

"It's the most under-used hospital I've ever seen," she observed.

"All this fantastic equipment.
 
It seems such a waste."
 
, "The

patients here want privacy," Peter said, echoing Paulo's comment.

"And they're willing to pay through the nose for it.
 
We just do our

job, and don't ask questions.
 
And the operating theatres do get used,

believe me."

"I've been told Hernandez comes here," she hinted casually.

"Lots of people come here," Peter said.
 
He was standing in front of

her now, and she felt the edge of the operating table brushing against

her thighs.

"Important people."
 
He was almost touching her.

"If you play your cards right you can have a very nice time."

"If I'm nice to the right people, you mean?"
 
Her voice was cool.

"Like Hernandez?"

He smiled back.

"You mean you'd fancy Hernandez?
 
Mind you, he is the Numero Uno around

here, and they do say power is a potent aphrodisiac."

"I'd need more than a potent aphrodisiac to fancy Hernandez," she

said.

"Anyway, I thought Nicolas Schlemann was the real power behind the

throne?"

"Oh, you fancy the tall, dark and handsome Nicolas, do you?"
 
Peter

nodded.

"Well, I'm not surprised.
 
Lots of women do."

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back.

"No, I damn well don't fancy Schlemann, whether he's tall, dark and

handsome or not."

"Nicci will certainly like you," Peter said.
 
His eyes wandered quickly

over her body in an unashamed sexual appraisal, and then back to her

face.

"But then he always did have very good taste."

She was not immune to the compliment and Peter Draven's body, close to

hers, was beginning to have an effect.
 
The more she looked at him, the

more comfortable she felt with the idea of a nice, no-strings affair.

"If we had known each other a little longer," she said, "I would think

that was a pick-up line."

He stepped forward.

"You'd^be right, he said.
 
His blue eyes held hers.

"You fancied me the first time you saw me.
 
Admit it."

"That's your diagnosis, is it?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, and then let them slide down slowly

to her breasts.

"My expert opinion," he agreed.
 
His fingers began to unbutton her

blouse.

"I don't think this is the time or the place for a medical

examination," she said but she made no attempt to rebuff him.

"Actually," he leaned closer to her, 'it's exactly the right time and

place."

She felt his hands exploring her skin, and saw him smile with approval

when he realised that she was not wearing a bra.

"Easy access," he said.

"I like that."
 
His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers exciting her

nipples.
 
He kissed her on the lips lightly, then harder.

Suddenly she felt both his hands move down over her thighs towards her

knees.
 
He grasped the hem of her skirt and yanked it up and the

lightweight material fucked up to her hips.
 
He caught her round the

waist, hoisted her into a sitting position on the operating table, and

stood between her legs.

"Lie back," he murmured.

She felt his tongue caress her ear, felt his fingers tugging at her

lacy briefs.
 
She tried to push him away.

"Not here, for God's sake.

Someone might come in."

"No one will come in," he muttered.
 
He had managed to slide her

panties down and the surface of the table felt cool under her naked

bottom.
 
She saw the round theatre-lights above her and fantasised that

they would suddenly illuminate, displaying her to an audience of

first-year students, who would stare down at her, eager to watch her

making love.
 
It was a surprisingly arousing fantasy.
 
Her body tingled

with the need for sex.

Peter was lying on top of her now, struggling with his jeans.
 
His

erection was so large and urgent that he was having trouble pulling

down his zip.
 
She felt her hands tangle with his as she helped him,

sensed him wince as the metal teeth scratched his skin.
 
He gasped,

half with laughter, half with desire.

"Jesus, you're in a hurry, aren't you?"

He entered her strongly, and she moved her hips towards him, tightening

her muscles to pull him deeper.
 
He began to match her rhythm, his

breathing now more regular.
 
The tension was building deliciously.
 
And

then suddenly his body jolted, out of control, and he came with an

explosive groan.
 
For a moment she felt his full weight on her.
 
After

a while he propped himself up on his elbows and eased himself off

her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm really sorry.
 
I just couldn't help myself."

She lay on her back for a moment, wondering if he was going to use his

mouth or his hands to satisfy her.
 
But to her disappointment, he

simply slid off the table and zipped up his jeans.

"That's never happened to me before."
 
He smiled rather sheepishly.

"You shouldn't be so damn sexy."

Is that supposed to be a compliment?
 
she wondered Or is he blaming me?

Frustrated sexual tension made her feel shaky.
 
And irritable.
 
She

stood up and tidied her clothes.

He watched her.

"I didn't expect that to happen.
 
I'll make it up to you next time, I

promise."

"What makes you think there'll be a next tune?"
 
Her voice was

distinctly frosty.

He looked at her anxiously.

"Come on, I'm only human."

"So am I" she said.

"And I like to have an orgasm, just like everyone else."

"Sorry," he repeated inadequately.
 
She turned and walked towards the

door, and he added dolefully:

"Haven't you ever been overcome with passion?"

Despite herself, she smiled.

"Peter, stop talking like a bad film."

"Well, what would you prefer to call it?"
 
he persisted.

"Love?"

Her smiled disappeared.

"You're not trying to tell me you're in love with me, Peter?"

"No," he said.
 
He hesitated.

"But you never know what might happen later on."

"I do," she said.
 
She stopped and turned to face him.

"Let's get one thing straight.
 
Sex can be a lot of fun, but romance is

out.
 
I'm just not interested."

"Fun and games, but no commitment?"
 
He smiled.

"Well, I won't argue with that.
 
With you as a playmate, few men would.

Very well then."
 
He held out his hand solemnly.

"Our relationship will be strictly sex, without the hearts-and-flowers

stuff.
 
I'll never mention passion, or love, again.
 
Do we have an

agreement?"

She tapped his hand away lightly, and laughed.

"Maybe," she said.

"Now, how about finishing our tour?"

"I think I've shown you everything," he said.

"Except where I'm supposed to report for duty in the morning."

He laughed.

"The most important thing of all.
 
You'll have your own office.
 
Come

and see."

The office was carpeted, decorated in pastel shades, with a huge window

with slatted shutters opening out on to the hospital gardens.
 
Peter

tapped the brand-new computer on the glass-topped desk.

"You can access all the medical files and the hospital library."
 
He

tapped the modern.

"And if you get bored, you can surf the Net.
 
We'll get you fixed up

with an e-mail address."

"Great," Jacey said.
 
She sat down and switched the computer on.

"Can I send an e-mail right now?
 
My friend Chris is waiting to hear

from me."

"Chris?"
 
He smiled.

"I'm jealous."

"Chris is a girl."

He shrugged, still smiling.

"I could still be jealous."

"Chris has three children and a loving husband," Jacey said.

"Definitely not my type.
 
But I told her I would keep in touch.
 
I

promised."
 
She logged on and typed a message: Hi Chris.
 
I'm here. The