Instant Gratification (15 page)

“Thing is, Emma, as you pointed out, life isn’t easy. And it’s sure as hell not black and white. Being on top of things doesn’t always count. Your father would be the first to tell you that.”

Well if that didn’t make her feel even more defensive. “My father isn’t big on telling me anything.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“He’s trying to fix his by having me out here. I know that.” She thought of her mom, and more than physical pain stabbed through her. “I just don’t think that he gets that it’s not the right way, not for me. I don’t want to resent being here, but…”

“But you do. You’re tired of treating the flu, and wayward cats. Who, by the way,” he added with a smile, “gave birth to four adorable, wayward kittens last night. Annie named the first one Emma. She has your eyes.”

She snorted and put her head back against the headrest, casually setting her hands on her aching ribs for support. “That’s nice.”

His gaze cut to her hands, though he didn’t say a word about her ribs. “But you still don’t want to be here.”

“I can’t seem to help it. Being here reminds me of my mom.” She hated that her voice cracked.

“You miss her,” he said very softly, taking his gaze off the road for a beat, offering her the sympathy that tripled her pain.

It took her a minute to speak. “So much.”

Reaching out, he squeezed her hand, and she cleared her throat. “I just want to go back to my world,” she told him. “Where I’m in control. My mom liked to be in control. I guess I got that from her.”

“How’s your stepfather taking it?”

She shrugged, which shot pain through her.
Note to self: stop moving.
“He left on a world cruise after the funeral. He needed to get away. It must be working because he hasn’t been back.”

“So you’ve been by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, you know,” she said wryly. “I’ve lived on my own from the day I went off to college.”

“Sure, but it’s nice to have family around. You’ve been without.”

“I manage to keep busy enough.”

“That’s not what I mean. Everyone needs a support system, Emma. People they can count on.”

“I have friends.”

“Spencer.”

Again their gazes met as he pulled into the Urgent Care’s lot. “Yes,” she agreed. “Spencer. And others.”

Stone turned off the truck, handed her the keys, then surprised her by getting out into the rain with her. She started to run through the downpour to the building, but the small movement sent fire along her torso and slowed her down. When she came to a stop on the top step, she pressed her hands to her chest as spots swam in her vision.
Dammit
.

With a low oath, he took her keys from her hands. “Easy,” he murmured, and unlocking the door for her, very gently nudged her inside.

They entered the reception area together, dripping water all over the floor as she realized he was now stuck here without a way home, which showed her just how little she’d been thinking in the past half hour. “I’m sorry. I’ll drive you—”

“I’ll call TJ for a ride.” But instead of doing that, he came at her. “In a minute.”

He was big and tall and wet, and not looking nearly as laid-back and easygoing as she was used to as he reached behind her and locked them in.

“What—”

“Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall to the first examination room, nudging her up against one of the tables. “Let’s see,” he murmured. “How did you get started with me? Oh, yeah.” He smiled grimly. “
Strip
.”

E
mma let out a laugh that sounded jittery and nervous to her own ears, but that was bound to happen when a gorgeous, wet guy looked at her from amazing green eyes and murmured “strip.” “Okay,” she said, lifting a hand. “I can appreciate both the irony and your sense of humor on this but this is really completely different from when you were hurt.”

“No, it’s not.” Clearly knowing his way around, he opened the drawer and pulled out a cotton gown, dangling it from his fingers.

She laughed, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not going to play doctor with you.”

“Ah, come on.” He waggled a brow. “I’ll let you hold the stethoscope. It’ll be fun.”

“You know, it just occurred to me to wonder why you’re not married or at least taken. But I think I’m getting why.”

He laughed. “Hey, I’ve been occasionally taken. It’s just that nothing’s stuck.” He set his hands on the jacket he’d put on her, spreading it open.

“Hey—”

He gently tugged it off. “I know why
you’re
not married,” he said. “You’re too mean.”

“I’m not married because I’m unusually hard to hold on to. As I’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah. Handy excuse.”

“What?”

“You’re easy enough to hold on to, Emma.” Evidenced by the way he was holding onto her. “You just get restless and anal and uptight, and scare them all off.”

“Stone—”

“Emma,” he said, mocking her fierce tone. He reached for her drenched and very clingy sweater. She slapped his hands away, but that didn’t stop him from unbuttoning the three small pearl buttons.

“Okay,” she said shakily, crossing her arms over her breasts. “This has gone far enough.”

“It most definitely has.” His eyes met hers, filled with humor and determination, and a surprising affection. “Though I’m starting to see past the usual chilly Dr. Evil exterior.”

She choked out a laugh. “Dr. Evil?”

“Dr. Fiercely Determined, then. Better?”

She looked into his eyes again and saw something else, to go with all the other things that had already overwhelmed her, and this one stopped her heart because it brought the night before to the forefront of her mind—as if it’d ever left!—Heat.

God, so much heat.

He stepped closer, his voice a husky murmur. “I don’t care that you scare men away, Emma. Or that I’m too laid-back for you. I don’t care that we tend to annoy the shit out of each other, and that while we’re at it, we also make each other hotter than a bonfire in July. You’re hurt. You know it, and I see it, and I’m not leaving here until I know how bad.”

She stared into his eyes for one more beat, saw the mulish stubbornness that matched her own, and let out a breath.
Fine.
Lifting her fingers to her sweater, she shrugged out of it herself, biting her lower lip at the pain in her ribs as she did so.

His gaze dropped, and though he didn’t say a word or move a muscle, she nearly slipped to the floor in a boneless heap from the sheer heat that blazed from him.

She looked down as well.

Her silky white top was wet and was plastered to her like Saran Wrap. It was also sheer, as was the white bra beneath it, leaving her pretty much completely exposed.

Letting out a low breath, he lifted his hands and set them on her waist, fingers spread wide, his touch light and almost unbearably gentle. “So how do we check to see if you broke a rib?”

“I don’t think I did.”

“So I suppose all you need is a Band-Aid.”

She met his smiling eyes. “At least you won’t have to give me a shot. I wouldn’t want you to pass out.”

“Ha ha.” His hands slid to the buttons and began to flick them open. “Let’s see what you did.”

The room was entirely silent except for her suddenly accelerated breathing, which she couldn’t seem to control.

His breathing wasn’t any too steady either as the backs of his fingers brushed her skin, or as he then peeled the top from her shoulders. With a soft hiss of a breath, he traced a long, work-callused finger over first one collar bone, then the other, where already a blossoming bruise was developing in the shape of the top half of the steering wheel. “Jesus, Emma.”

He crouched to look lower at her ribs and abs. He had a hand on her thigh, an innocent hand, bracing himself, but her mind went back to the last time he’d been in this position. How his hand had glided up her thigh, followed by his mouth—

“You got yourself good.” He straightened to his full height again, his finger running over her shoulder, catching on her narrow bra strap.

Which obediently slipped off her shoulder. “Stone.”

“You took care of me when I was hurt—”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Even though you lied about how you got hurt.”

“Admit it, you enjoyed thinking of me as a lazy ski bum.”

True enough. “So you thought you’d perpetuate the image?”

He smiled. “You sound so snooty when you’re pissy. I think it’s the New York accent.”

“I’m from
here
.”

His smile faded. “Yeah. You are.”

“For the record, I took care of you, because that’s what I do.”

“I know, but it’s what I do, too. Take care of people.”

She stared into his jade eyes, so clear, so utterly calm and steady, in a way she admired far too much.

“You’re already bruising,” he said quietly. “Let’s just do this.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Her arms were trapped at her sides by the top that was hanging off her elbows, and she was glad because she had the oddest urge to wrap them around his shoulders. He’d touched her, put his warm hands on her, reminding her of what they could do. It didn’t matter that the touch wasn’t supposed to be a sexual one. Her body didn’t seem to get the memo.

Leaving one hand on her shoulder, he spread his other hand over her belly, which was rising and falling way too fast. “The bruising isn’t as bad here.”

Good to know. Not that she was feeling any pain, not with his hands still on her, his face so close to her breasts he could have put his mouth on them.

“X-rays,” he said in a thick voice into the crackling silence. “You need them.”

Shrugging her shirt back on, she pushed him back a step and headed to x-ray at the end of the hall. She flipped on the machine and set up an x-ray tray. “I’ve got this,” she said when he stood far too close in the small room.

“You’ll need me to hit the button.”

True enough. She showed him what to do, then turning her back to him, pulled off her shirt again, because what the hell, he’d already seen her. In fact, he’d tasted every inch of her.

They were both wet and chilled, but she didn’t feel the cold, not one little bit, not with his eyes heating her up from the inside out, and her memories stoking the fire. She positioned herself in front of the machine, extremely aware of the fact that she stood there half bare while he was fully dressed.

Five minutes later they were standing side by side studying her x-ray. Stone didn’t know what she was thinking but he was thinking that he loved how warm he felt next to her, how that warmth seeped into him, how much warmer they’d be without their wet clothes, sharing body heat—

“Nothing broken,” she said, her voice husky enough to tell him she wasn’t thinking only about her ribs either.

“So your treatment?”

“Ice and rest.”

He waited until she turned off the x-ray light before putting his hands on her hips and turning her to face him.

“What?” she asked a little breathlessly, and just the slightest bit defensively.

Poor baby. She didn’t know what to do about him, how to feel, what to think. He knew the feeling. “I can’t help but notice that we have the same treatment plan, you and me.”

A smile touched her lips. “You didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to your treatment plan.”

“Sure I did. I just didn’t have time to rest and ice. I do now.” He took her hand and led her into the small kitchen, where he headed directly to the freezer and pulled out a small ice wrap.

Holding it up, he stepped toward her, and with a low laugh, she took one back. “Oh, no.”

Stone liked the sound of her laugh, a whole lot. It softened her face, it softened everything about her, and he liked her soft. He liked her tough, too. Bottom line, he liked her every which way. He lifted the ice pack and waggled a brow.

“I can ice myself,” she said.

“Ah, but I have experience with icing yourself. Trust me, it’s never as fun.” He stepped closer.

She took one back and came up against the vee of the counter. Perfect. He put one hand on the tile. “Open up,” he said, gesturing to her shirt.

“You’ve gotten a good enough look already.”

He braced his other hand on the tile as well, trapping her between the counter and his body. “Honey, I have a good enough look right now.”

She looked down.

Standing as close as he was, the top of her head brushed his chest as she took in what he meant. Her blouse, still wet, still sheer, revealed her as perfectly as if she’d been nude; delicate collarbone, perfect breasts tipped with perfect rose colored nipples, and gently curved belly, moving in and out with her quickened breathing.

Rolling her eyes at herself, probably at him too, she grabbed the ice pack, set it across her collarbone, just above her breasts, and sucked in a breath.

He smiled.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His gaze dipped low again, watching as her nipples hardened even further, and let out a heartfelt sigh. “Most definitely.”

“I didn’t enjoy the sight of you when you were on the examination table.”

“Maybe not then, when I was muddy and bloody, but I bet you thought of me later.”

She pulled her lower lip in between her teeth, trying to maintain a somber attitude.

“Come on, admit it. You did.”

She rolled her eyes, as good an admission as he was going to get. They were standing close, eyes locked together, and she smiled, and then so did he. And then, just as suddenly, his amusement faded.

Zero to sixty…

Emma let the ice pack fall. Their thighs bumped. His hands went to her waist. Hers slid up his chest, and they were staring at each other.

Not smiling.

Not even breathing.

His hands tightened on her, then glided up her slim spine, one fisting in her wet blouse, the other sinking into her hair. She shivered, but he knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“Are we still playing doctor?” she murmured.

“I’m game. I think I should check you out much more thoroughly.”

“You’ve done that.”

“A second opinion never hurts.” When her breath caught audibly, he pulled her up against him, careful of her ribs. “I’ll start with your mouth.”

The mouth in question fell open and she licked her lips, that quick little gesture she sometimes did when she was nervous.

Oh yeah, he liked her that way. She let down her guard, and he definitely loved watching her with her guard down. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself when she stepped out of her element.

She fidgeted, shifted her weight, nibbled on that lower lip in a way that made him very, very hard. “Come closer,” he murmured.

“Any closer, and I’ll be breathing your air.”

“Exactly what the doctor ordered.” And with that, he made the move and kissed her.

Ah, yeah.
That
was what he’d been craving since she’d left his cabin the night before. Hell, since the first time he’d seen her.

Unlike her wit, her brain, her eyes, which were all sharp as a razor, her mouth was soft.

Warm.

Sweet.

Giving.

For one blissful moment she sank into him.

Just like that, the discomfort of being wet and cold vanished, since between them they were generating enough heat to supply a small third world country with electricity for a year.

Her fingers tightened in the material of his wet t-shirt, then slid up his chest, until her arms were wrapped around his neck, holding on as if maybe he was giving her something she hadn’t been able to get from anyone else, something she really needed.

Something he was so willing to give.

Then she pushed free, and walked out of the room.