Needed: Full-Time Father (Medical Romance) (8 page)

‘What time do you pick your daughter up from school?’

‘I’m not—my friend is having her for dinner.’

He didn’t say anything, but she could almost feel the tiny sting of condemnation that beat in the air, and even though Madison didn’t have to justify herself to anyone, least of all Guy Boyd, she wanted to.

‘I don’t usually rely so heavily on my friend, Guy. This week was always going to be difficult, and I’d made arrangements in advance for Emily to spend some extra time at Helen’s.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Guy pointed out, but Madison stopped him right there.

‘You didn’t have to. Guy, I’m a single mother and I owe it to my daughter to give her a decent standard of living. I have to work, but I make sure I’m home a lot, too.’

‘I know.’ Guy nodded. ‘I mean, I don’t know, but I can see from this house, from the way you talk about her…’ He gave a tight shrug. ‘It’s not for me to judge.’

‘No, Guy,’ Madison said firmly. ‘It isn’t.’

Going out to the kitchen, Madison set about making coffee, trying and failing not to let Guy’s carefully unvoiced insinuation rile her.

Emily came first, last and always.

Emily was the reason she was stuck in an office half the day instead of being out on the floor. Emily was the reason she had striven for an NUM position, to enable her to be home in the mornings and evenings, to give her each and every weekend off. Madison forcibly pushed it all to one side, consoling herself that the most responsible thing Guy Boyd would ever have had to do was to remember to take his antimalaria tablets. What
would a man like him know about mortgages and gas bills and dancing lessons? What would he know about rates and schoolbooks and the million and one things that were processed in a woman’s life?

Hell, it was hot!

Peeling off her jacket, Madison looked down at the black camisole she was wearing, wondering if it was appropriate, then gave a tiny impatient shake of her head at her train of thought. Her trusty but rather old air-conditioner wasn’t going to cool the place down in the next few minutes, and a lined suit was hard work at the best of times, let alone on a thirty-plus degree day. Slipping out of her shoes, Madison finally felt herself relax. Padding back to the living room in her stockinged feet, carefully balancing a tray, she saw Guy on the sofa and, despite the fact it was her own home, Madison felt as if she were somehow intruding, as if she were snooping, because, clearly not having heard her approach, Guy was sitting on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped, such a picture of desolation her first instinct was to cross the room and comfort him. But instead she stepped back out of the doorway and gave a small cough to announce her arrival, and this time when she entered he was sitting up straight, a false, strained smile on his lips.

Kneeling down by the coffee-table, she attempted to spoon sugar into the coffee, but her hand was shaking so much she spilled most of it. She had a burning awareness of him behind her, and for the second time in as many minutes questioned her decision to wear only a
camisole, because the burning weight of his eyes was scorching through the flimsy fabric on the back of her neck. And though she couldn’t see him, as if by telepathy she could feel him, feel the presence of him, an awareness that engulfed her, the air so thick now she had to drag it into her lungs. She anticipated, before his fingers brushed the back of her neck, what was about to happen. As he traced the length of her neck, dusted his fingers over her shoulder, her first sensible thought was to jerk away, to demand that he stop, but a deeper instinct held her still, held her transfixed, almost willing his hand on, scared almost to move, to speak, to even breathe, scared to break the moment.

A delicious heat spread over her shoulders as his index finger traced her clavicle. It was the smallest, gentlest of touches, but it was exquisitely erotic, just the contact of his skin on hers, the tip of his finger over the flickering pulse in the hollow of her throat physically weakened her. Madison’s eyes closed in silent acknowledgement of a basic, primitive need she had held back for so long now, one she had denied even existed. But as her face turned to him, as his strong silent eyes held her tremulous ones, the tension that had held her together to this point seemed to dissolve. Emotion she had pushed back for so long bubbled to the fore. Transfixed, she stared, a heady mixture of terror and excitement going through her as his lips moved toward hers. She could smell, taste the arousal in the air. Anticipating the weight of his mouth on hers, she parted her own lips slightly and took a tiny breath as the bruising feel
of his mouth met hers, the scratch of his chin dragging her cheek, the sharp, unfamiliar taste of him, the cool of his tongue as gently he parted her lips further. And it didn’t make sense, it could never be understood or explained to the rational side of her brain, but it felt so right.

So right to be held, to be kissed, to move her mouth with his, yielding to him, the delicious feel of his hands on her back, the tangy scent of him close up. It had been so long since she’d felt like this, so long since she’d been held with such passion and longing, and if they regretted it tomorrow, regretted it this day even, right now she didn’t care. Right now all Madison wanted was to give in to her body, to dissolve in his arms, to be led by this delicious man, to let go of the pain that surrounded them for even just a little while.

‘Madison?’ His question was a throaty gasp. ‘I want you…’

‘I want you, too,’ she whispered, taking control now.

She pulled at his tie, kissing him hungrily, the tiny buttons of his shirt somehow managed easily, exposing a delicious toned torso. He had a smattering of blond hair across his chest and circling the dark mahogany of his nipples. Slowly he slid the zipper of her camisole, his warm hand taking the weight of her breasts as the other undid the metal clasp of her bra. He made her feel beautiful. With every touch, every moan, every stroke of her flesh he dragged her reserve away, peeled away the inhibitions as easily as he peeled away their clothes. His trousers were tossed in a rumpled heap of hastily
discarded clothing and need fuelled them, a need to see each other, to touch, to explore. Naked, he was so beautiful she almost wept at the feel of male flesh beneath her fingers, the quiet strength of being held, caressed, kissed, the salty taste of his skin, the thickening hair that directed her to his most intimate place.

Kneeling, she lifted her bottom as he slid her skirt down over her hips, his hand stroking the curve of her buttocks, twisting the knife of desire so taut she let out a low needy moan as his fingers slipped into her warmth, the pad of his finger pushing her in tiny deliberate strokes that had her head arching back, delicious tension tightening every muscle, filled with a need she hadn’t known existed, had denied even to herself. Yet with one stroke of his hand, one taste of his cool, experienced mouth, he kindled a wantonness that had been kept in check for so long now, and revealed in a heartbeat the woman beneath the façade.

She revelled in it, so much that it was Madison who took things further, taking his manhood in her hands, feeling the heady weight of his erection nudging the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and all she knew was that she needed more. Guy sensed it, holding her buttocks, guiding her down on his delicious length, moving her slowly, guiding her as she held on to his shoulders, the sheen of skin beneath her, the full swell of him within her. And it was like nothing she had ever felt before, an exquisite closeness she could never have imagined. Their bodies were in gentle tune, a deep knowing cloaking them, moving them to deeper union,
guiding them to the very peak of pleasure. And he wasn’t guiding her any more, his hands lost in her hair as they moved in sync, faster, deeper thrusts that made her cry out as a deep knotting tension grew inside her, her thighs tightening. Her hands moved to his shoulders as this elusive pleasure rippled through her body, gathering force as it went, a flood of heat dashing along her spine, stinging its way to the back of her neck, her whole body shuddering with the sheer delicious force of her orgasm.

It should have been over, she needed to catch her breath, to collapse on him in blessed relief. She’d given all of herself to him, but she wrestled to somehow still stay in control, fought for her head, but it was Guy pulling tightly on the reins, Guy taking the lead now. She could feel him tensing deep within her, feel deep, hard thrusts that filled her further, and instead of regaining control she lost it, years of holding it together deliciously abating as her pleasure grew, painful almost in its intensity, sheer abandonment in every pore as she gave in to him again, letting him take her higher, further, deeper than she had ever had been until her short neat nails dug into his wide shoulders as she cried out his name, gave that last piece of herself no one had ever witnessed until, gasping, exhausted, but sated with pleasure, she finally relaxed against him, heard the thudding of his heart as it beat loudly in her ear, the feel of his skin on her cheek as the world slowly stopped spinning.

‘Guy?’ Madison’s bewildered voice was barely a
whisper, but he heard the question behind it, heard the doubt, the embarrassment, the regret in the single word.

‘It’s OK,’ he said quickly, but she shook her head, unable to look at him, completely unable to lift her head, to stare into his eyes and acknowledge what had taken place. But he pulled her back, lifted her chin to force her to look at him. ‘It’s OK, Madison, there’s nothing to regret.’

‘Oh, but there is…’ Pulling herself up, she rummaged for her clothes, pulling on her knickers, trying to force her damp, flushed body into her camisole, to pull up her zipper, and somehow avoid his eyes. ‘Guy, I’ve got a five-year-old daughter. What just happened was beyond irresponsible, it was completely out of character—’

‘It was inevitable,’ Guy broke in, pulling on his boxer shorts before standing up to face her. ‘Madison, you can’t deny that there’s a huge attraction between us.’

‘There isn’t.’ Vehemently she shook her head, furiously she denied it. ‘I’m not attracted to—’ Madison started, realising the sheer futility of her words. The evidence was irrefutable and as her voice trailed off Guy gave a slow lazy smile.

‘So you usually make wild, uninhibited love with men you’re not in the least bit attracted to, do you?’ A very reluctant smile wobbled on her lips, her eyes closing in embarrassment as Guy carried on talking. ‘Madison, I’m not even going to try denying that I’m attracted to you, I’m not going to pretend for a moment that I didn’t want to sleep with you, but what I will tell
you is that not for a moment did I expect it to happen today. I didn’t come here with the intention of sleeping with you. I came here because I wanted to be with you, wanted to get to know you a bit better.’

‘Then how?’ Genuinely bewildered, she blinked back at him, scarcely able to comprehend what had just taken place, how in the space of an afternoon her safe ordered word had disappeared, that she had slept with not just a man she barely knew but a man she would be working with. A man whose respect she should command, a man who, day in day out, she would have to face.

‘It just happened, Madison.’ Guy answered as if that were explanation enough but, seeing the confusion in her eyes, he crossed the room, took her stunned face in his hands and continued, ‘Madison, sometimes these things just happen…’

‘Not to me!’ Appalled, she wrenched herself away. ‘Not to me they don’t, Guy. Look, I know you think I’m overreacting, I know I was a completely willing participant, it’s just that…’ Her mouth snapped closed, trapping feelings she didn’t want to reveal, trying to save herself from exposing more than she already had.

But Guy refused to accept her silence, refused to accept her rejection. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the sofa.

‘Am I the first person you’ve slept with since your husband?’ His hand tightened on her shoulders as she nodded reluctantly. He watched as a tear tumbled down her cheek despite her best efforts to squeeze it back, his
thumb collecting a damp, loose strand of hair plastered to her forehead and smoothing it gently behind her ear. And if he hadn’t been in his boxers he’d have tried to locate a handkerchief, but instead he watched as Madison gave a rather inelegant sniff and attempted to compose herself. Gently he ploughed on, trying to say the right thing. ‘I wish I’d known that, known how hard this was for you—the guilt you must be feeling. All I can say is that I know this happened quickly, but it doesn’t have to cheapen things. We just did it the wrong way around. Madison, I want to get to know you, all of you, I want to get close to you…’ She frowned up at him, as if he were speaking a foreign language that she’d barely even started to grasp. But occasional words filtered through and, despite her utter confusion, somehow she understood what it was Guy was saying—because she wanted to get close to him, too, wanted to get to know him, all of him. Staring back at his gorgeous face, for a slice of time it almost seemed possible that with a man like Guy maybe they could work it out, maybe they could learn this language together. Perhaps sensing the shift in her, he pushed just a touch harder.

‘Tonight.’ He stroked her hair slowly. ‘Tonight we’ll…’

And like a balloon popping the hope, the possibility that had hung in the air dispersed and with a frustrated sob Madison wrenched herself away.

‘How, Guy? Are you intending to take me out for dinner, to the movies perhaps, or maybe we can go clubbing? Did I omit to mention that I’m way out of
babysitter tokens for the next six months?’ He opened his mouth to object, but Madison was going full steam ahead, reaching for her shoes and pulling them on, as bitter, angry words spilled out of her mouth. ‘Or perhaps I should go and pick up Emily and tell her that mummy has got a new boyfriend, why doesn’t she come home and meet him?’

‘Madison! You’re being—’

‘Ridiculous?’ She nodded her head. ‘Because it’s ridiculous to even think for a moment that this could work. And you’re wrong, Guy, it’s not because of some rose-coloured view of my late husband that I haven’t slept with anyone since he died, it’s not because of some misguided sense of honour that I haven’t hit the singles bars or nightclubs. It’s because of the mess my husband left me to pick up when he died. The mess I’ve spent the last five years extricating myself from. Yes, I’m attracted to you, yes, given the emotion of today, perhaps the outcome was inevitable, but if you think I want flowers and meals to somehow dignify it, you’re wrong. All I want is to put this behind us.’