Surrender My Love (8 page)

What was the woman
talking about? Dr. Markson had told her he’d already read her notes. Why would he be checking up on her? Was that the reason he’d completely ignored her when he’d made rounds a short while ago? She felt a frisson of dread skim through her, settling beneath her breasts. Why would he request more of her charts? Did it have to do with his theory about Mr. Barkley and Mr. Prescott’s deaths, or was he looking for something else?
Was
he checking up on her? Did he think that she’d been careless, or maybe dangerous? Chloe started to feel panic rumble along her skin. She had to talk to him!

CHAPTER FOUR

Chloe bravely clutched her bag, gripping it with cold fingers as she made her way down the hall to Dr. Markson’s medical suite. She didn’t really know what she would to say to him, but she needed to get some answers as to why he’d requested her notes, why he’d asked her all those questions, and why he was investigating her. Her sturdy white shoes sank silently into the plush carpet as she approached the large mahogany door.

She wasn’t
even sure he’d be here, but the resident who she’d spoken to had assured her he was done with morning rounds. The young man seemed annoyed that Dr. Markson had initiated rounds earlier than usual. It was now just after seven and this area of the hospital was desolate. She stopped in front of the door, and before she could change her mind, rapped sharply.

A minute or two passed
in silence so she turned to leave. That was when the heavy door swung open and she gazed into the deepest, darkest, midnight-blue eyes she’d ever seen. Her breath felt high-jacked in her lungs, seized by her acute apprehension. Dr. Markson stared back at her, his eyebrows raised in apparent surprise at seeing her. He was wearing his lab coat unbuttoned, displaying a charcoal suit with a grey and red tie underneath. His hair was tussled, like he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it, but the waves were thick, dark, and inviting.

“Nurse Bennett.
This is a surprise,” he said smoothly. He took a side step and waved her past him.

Chloe
willed her rubber legs to function and followed him towards his office.
Breathe…breathe
…She tried to divert her gaze from his broad shoulders and tapered back as she walked closely behind.

“I hope you weren’t knocking long. I just heard it. I’m the only one here at this ho
ur, you see,” he explained, offering her a seat while he leaned casually on the edge of his desk.

Bright morning sunshine filtered
through the colonial windows, flooding the room with warmth. Chloe took the chair, feeling a sense of déjà vu from the last time she was there. Her cheeks immediately heated at the memory and he must have taken notice.

“
I’m afraid there’re no sandwiches in my drawers today.” He shot her an insanely sexy smile and she wanted to melt like warmed butter.

Maybe no
sandwich, but certainly something delicious…

She
felt heat bloom on her face and knew she must be fire-engine red.
What’s wrong with me?
He was directly in front her leaning on his desk, and it was all she could do to keep her gaze from the magnetic pull of his drawers.

Oh, God…don’t look…d
on’t look…don’t look…

Why is it that when I
say don’t look, it becomes the most incessant, obsessive, driving-me-out-of-my-mind desire? And of course I have to be freaking eye-to-crotch!

She
sat there, squirming, in a wrestling match with her addled, sex-starved brain and…lost.

He must have caught the
southward direction of her gaze, because those gorgeous lips tugged with a smile and he looked down at the front his trousers.

M
ortified…

He looked
up with the tiniest grin and leisurely crossed his long legs. “Let me know when you’re done, Nurse Bennett, and we’ll continue.”

Oh, God.
Dying right now...

She cleared her throat
, trying to focus. “I…I was informed that you requested my charts.”

He nodded,
steepling his fingers and bringing them to his enticing lips.

Fighting the distraction
, and suddenly breathless, Chloe looked away and continued, “I’d like to know why.”

Dr.
Markson leaned forward, his gaze roving her face. “We’ve already discussed these charts, Nurse Bennett. I told you the reason.”

C
hloe pursed her lips and met his assessing blue gaze, determination fisting her hands. “If you think that I did something wrong then I’d like to know.”

She
’d rushed out the words, glad to unload them from her conscience. She’d been afraid of that very thing. After the Code Blues, especially the second one, she’d constantly worried that she’d made an error. She’d reexamined her actions at work again and again, making sure she’d not inadvertently caused harm. Had she missed something?

She saw Dr.
Markson’s dark brows rise into his forehead. “What would make you think that?”

“Nurse
Wall said you were checking up on me.”

He paused for a moment, studying her. “It seems she’s not very fond of you. Why?”

“I don’t know.” She stared at her lap.

A lengthy silenced ticked by.
She could feel his gaze on her, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Be assured, you did nothing wrong
, Nurse Bennett. I’ve gone through your notes and everything is in order. Believe me, I was thorough.”

Chloe let out a breath she hadn’t know
n she was holding. If he didn’t suspect she had done something wrong, and had already read the notes, then why would he request the records? A chill blew over her and she felt dread settling in her stomach.

“
There’s more going on, isn’t there?”

She watched air
shuttle calmly in and out of his lungs, but the lines of his face sharpened.

“Don’t
read into things. As I said, I’m simply collecting information to look for a logical explanation.”

She tilted her head and regarded him.
Her brain was now traveling down a different path, weaving its own conclusion. “Does it not fit your theory? Is there more going on?”

He shifted
, drumming his long fingers on the desk. “Truthfully, I’m not finding much to support my theory. The deaths could be just a coincidence. The patients were elderly.”

Chloe’s teeth
took hold of her bottom lip and she nodded, considering his words, thinking he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. She sighed. Maybe she was allowing her thoughts to run amuck. Plus, his nearness made it impossible to think clearly.

“
I guess you’re right. I’m sorry I bothered you.” She stood and turned to leave.

“Why are you
really here, Nurse Bennett?”

She turned back
, surprised by his question and the rumbling timbre of his voice.

“I—I told y
ou. I was worried you suspected I’d done something wrong.” She hated that her words did not hold the conviction she intended.

H
e took the small step to her, his gaze holding hers and drawing her in, daring her to look away.

“Is that what brought you to my office so early in the morning?
Why you sought me out?” he asked softly, his tall frame towering over her. He was so close that Chloe could see a pulse skip lazily at the base of his jaw. His skin seemed darker against the gray of his suit. He was staring at her in a way that made her heart want to burst through her ribs.

She
swallowed nervously. Her gaze fell to those delectable lips then she turned her head quickly, latching on to a painting hanging across the room. She tried to force oxygen into her lungs as her breath quickened.

He’s
a jerk, remember?
You don’t even like him…

He was known to be a hard-ass overachiever who thrived on maintaining control. He was the shepherd who everyone flocked to, a natural born leader. She knew she wouldn’t be his type. A man like him would never take an interest in her.

Repulsive
. The word rode the wave of her emotion, dousing any hope that he’d find her even minutely appealing. She felt his gaze wandering slowly over her face, surely cataloging her flaws.

Nodding, she responded
to his question, again swallowing nervously. His voice then slid through the tension, soft and assured.

  “You know, the Freudian slip is a funny thing.
Most people think of it as a slip in speech that occurs due to the interference of a repressed wish. That is true, but there’re other behaviors that can be quite Freudian as well…” He tapped a long finger against his chin and studied her. “Like going to see someone for one purpose when there is a deeper, more repressed motivation.” 

Chloe’s eyes flared.
She gulped, afraid to examine the veracity of his words.

A long
saturated silence passed between them. She was afraid to take a breath. He was standing so close she could smell his heady scent and feel his masculine aura like a tangible caress.

“Do you want to know what
my
repressed wish is?” he asked softly.

She managed a nod, her heart trudging laboriously.

“Your skin is like porcelain. It’s beautiful. I want to see more of it.”

She
inhaled sharply, astonished. Slowly she shivered out her breath, replaying his voice in her head. She wondered if she’d conjured the voice and commanded it to speak so pleasingly.

Why would he say such a thing?

“It looks
incredibly soft,” he whispered.

Her
breath quickened. She was afraid to move a muscle and continued to focus on the painting on the wall.

“Is it that way all over
, Chloe?”

Chloe
… He had called her that once before. She nodded, but was terrified to meet his gaze. She was afraid this fancy of her imagination would vanish into a sensible reality. The last thing she wanted right now was to be sensible.

“Show me, Chloe.”

She was sure her breath stalled in her lungs. Something electrified the air, making it warm and tingly. It buzzed along her skin. She focused on the painting. It had vibrant colors. Blues and reds and gold. It was lovely, compelling. Like the deep baritone of his voice. She wanted to get lost in it, wanted to sink into its lush sensuality.

“Are your breasts as creamy? Are your nipples hard, Chloe?”

She gasped
because she realized they were indeed. Her nipples were tight, straining against the fabric of her bra, delighted to be in his thoughts. She sensed him shift forward slightly and could feel a humming intensity radiate from him. He wasn’t touching her, but his power vibrated the air and sprinkled her skin with goose bumps. She didn’t need to look at his face to see the midnight shade darkening his stunning blue eyes.

“Show me
.” The whisper was a breeze blowing gently across her cheek.

Her fingers
trembled as they moved slowly and started to unbutton her white dress. She started at her neck, then fumbled open each button that followed in line down the front of her dress. One by one. She stopped when she reached her waist, feeling cool air feather against her skin. The edges of the dress gaped open, revealing her white cotton bra.

"
Take it off your shoulders,” he said slowly, his voice smoothly purring from his throat.

Still memorized by the vibrant colors of the painting
, she slowly pushed the fabric from her shoulders. A liquid warmth swirled through her, giving her a strange exhilaration.

“Take off your bra. Let me see you
r breasts.”

Chloe complied, u
nsnapping the front clasp. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly now as she bared herself to his assessing gaze. Her body eagerly anticipated his touch, craved the attention of his nimble fingers. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples pulled so taut they were painful. She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to. This was
always responsible, prudishly-repulsive
,
old woman
Chloe Bennett doing something she’d only allowed in her dreams.

“You’re beautiful, Chloe,” h
e whispered huskily. “Touch yourself.”

Chloe didn’t stop to ask herself why she was doing this, why she needed to do this. She moved her palms to her sensitive breast
s and cupped the supple flesh, lifting and squeezing, surprised by the intensity of the pleasure that washed over her. She was growing slick with desire and could feel the dampness seeping hot between her thighs. The ache thrumming in her groin was rapidly consuming her body.

“Are you wet, Chloe?”

She nodded, just a slight dip of her head. She didn’t dare look at him. The red hues of the painting captured her focus, the colors burning hot and sultry. She tugged her nipples between her thumb and index finger and a flaming current sizzled through her. She clenched her thighs, trying to assuage the cloying ache
.

She
inhaled deeply when she felt the pads of his fingers slowly follow the line of her neck. His touch whispered over her skin, leaving a cascade of startled hair flocking behind.

“So soft…
so beautiful…”

She tossed her head back and closed her eyes, drowning in the exquisite sensations
of his touch and knowing that his dark gaze was devouring her. She felt naughty and uninhibited, so entirely unlike herself.