Vital Signs (5 page)

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Authors: Em Petrova

Tags: #Erotic Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Vital Signs
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“Jesus, can I eat or are we discussing seepage?” His tone of irritation was far from what he’d wanted to come out of him. But exhaustion and too many days of not feeling like himself was stealing most of his control.

A smile crept over her face—a ray of sun cast over his dark days. “I’m sorry, Corey. I’ll let you eat in peace.”

He wanted to tell her not to go, but she put the drinks on the coffee table within his reach and started revolving through his apartment, tidying things. As she did, she hummed the same tune.

“Where are you from?” he asked between bites. All the bacon was gone and he almost wished for more but wouldn’t ask. She’d done enough.

“The Dominican Republic. I expect you hear it in my voice.”

“Yes, and in the song you’re humming.”

She stopped before the sofa, her arms full of discarded bandages and empty water bottles. “It’s a song from my childhood. I woke with it in my head today. I’ve been thinking a lot about something my mother said to me the other day on the phone.”

His gaze met hers. A sweet pressure on his heart made him lower the fork. “Oh yeah? What did she say?”

Sarita blinked. “It’s nothing.” She was off again. He heard her rattling around in the kitchen. The water ran and he knew she was washing dishes. He picked at the stuffing of his tomato, trying to figure out what to do with a woman like Sarita invading his space.

He liked it—too much. They were virtual strangers yet she’d come to his aid. What did he have to offer in return? Grouchy conversation and a mess left by a helpless man.

The cheese and herb stuffing was delicious. He scarfed it down and sliced up the tomato too. When he’d polished off every bite as well as his juice and most of his coffee, Sarita returned.

Her white top was damp where water must have splashed on her. He stared at the ring, aware of her dark skin showing through the damp fibers. What would it feel like to lift her top and feel that silky spot of skin? To taste it?

“You’ve finished.” She beamed at him as if her naughty patient had finally done as told. When she reached to take the plate away, he caught her around the nape. Held her face near his.

Smelling her light floral scent mingled with coffee she must have drank just a bit ago. Her dark eyes sparkled with something he didn’t understand and couldn’t battle.

He drew her down, down. When his lips brushed across hers, a light shiver ran through her. Moaning, he pulled her closer. Claiming her mouth fully, he probed the hairs on the base of her skull. Electricity zapped through him, leaving him feeling as if he’d just had 240 volts from a defibrillator.

A soft noise left her, and he swallowed it, probing the seam of her lips with his tongue, demanding entrance. She parted for him, and he slipped his tongue into the hot depths of her mouth.

She moaned again and brought her hands up to cradle his jaw. Angling her head, she gave him total access to her mouth. He took advantage. Sweeping the interior with his tongue, his mind spinning with something that, for once, wasn’t fatigue.

He pressed his hand to her lower back, guiding her down to sit on the edge of the sofa while he kissed her breathless. She slid her tongue over his in a mating dance that made his cock as hard as steel. Need rocked him, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her over his erection and fuck her until all the neighbors knew his name.

But he was far from being able to carry through his plan, so he released her.

She sat back a little, staring at him with shining eyes, her lips swollen from his kisses and his beard burn reddening her cheeks.

Good.

He rested against the pillows and let his eyelids slam with the exhaustion he’d been fighting for two hours.

∙•∙

Sarita glided her fingertip over her lower lip. It felt impossibly swollen after that long, thorough kiss. And for a man in a weakened state, Corey sure could kiss. She’d like to see him in all his full glory.

He’d fallen into a deep, healing sleep. He was still pale and his face angular, but it wouldn’t take long for him to feel like his old self. She trembled, thinking of the true man inside Corey. Strong, virile.

Needy. Hungry.
He’d kissed her like a man starved for oxygen. Gulping kisses that still shook her body. Her panties were a soggy scrap and her breasts ached. She watched his chest rise and fall, letting her gaze slide over the bandage to his chiseled abs and finally the bulge in his pajama pants that was just starting to go down.

A shudder struck her. She twined her fingers together to keep from shaking him awake and demanding he finish what he’d started.

Studying him while asleep only fueled her fires more. Everything about him excited her. The salt and pepper threads in his hair and beard called to her to touch him. The small lines around each eye added a mystery that intrigued her.

She knew him as a hero who’d taken a hit but who was he normally? She wanted to find out.

Pushing out a sigh, she stood carefully so as not to jostle him. Then she found a throw blanket and spread it over his sleeping form. Shooting him one more glance, it took some effort to walk away. She was too smitten for her own good, but damn if she could stop herself.

She hadn’t been lying to him when she’d said she’d been thinking a lot about her mother’s words. Driven by gut instinct, Sarita had gone to the firehouse to see if she could learn more about Corey. When Jagger had voiced his concerns for his friend, she’d seen it as a sign that she was called to help. She had just enough Dominican roots still to believe in souls crossing paths and a certain magic some Americans might believe was silly.

Maybe she was just a naïve foreign woman but she didn’t feel this was the case.

She released a shivery sigh and walked away from him. His apartment was a wreck. Obviously he’d been struggling to do minor things like shower and feed himself. His bed was unmade with stale sheets. She picked up his laptop and set it aside.

The windows open on the screen drew her interest but she quickly turned her gaze from it. What he did wasn’t her business. It was bold enough of her to insinuate herself into his life this morning, take over his care, and fix him breakfast.

She stripped his bed and spent ten minutes searching for where he might store fresh linens. She opened closets and closed them before finally locating a set of sheets on a high shelf. When she pulled them down, something thumped, falling over.

Reaching on tiptoe, she touched the object that had fallen. When she pulled it down and saw a woman’s smiling face and Corey’s arm slung around her shoulders, Sarita’s heart gave a sickening jolt.

Fingers shaking, she replaced the photo frame and closed the closet door. With the sheets in her arms, she returned to his room and remade his bed. Wondering about that woman and her role in his life now. He’d told her he didn’t have anybody—not even a pet to take care of. Did he still carry a flame for that woman?

Sarita finished making the bed, plumping his pillows, and then carrying off his dirty clothes. She imagined the apartment building had a place to do laundry, but she’d take everything home and wash it in her building. It would give her a reason to check on Corey tomorrow.

After finding a month’s worth of newspapers jammed under his bed, she thought about tossing them. But maybe he was saving them for the headlines. She thought of the content on his laptop. He might be trying to uncover some information.

She listened to the news, so she knew about the arsonist still being on the loose. Hopefully he didn’t think he could bring the criminal down in his state?

Stubborn man. She smiled to herself and sat on the floor, putting his papers in chronological order. Then she stowed them neatly under the bed and went back into the living room to check on her patient.

He slumbered on. The only thing left to do would be to run the vacuum but she didn’t want to wake him. So she went into the kitchen and fixed a pot of chicken noodle soup. Finally, she took a seat in the comfy recliner opposite the sofa.

The leather smelled of Corey, a faint musky male scent that fired all her cylinders. What a way to spend her day off. First thing this morning she’d considered throwing away all her obligations and going to the shore. But her worries of Corey had nagged her too much to ignore. She was glad she’d come.

She picked up a book lying on the coffee table and looked at the back jacket. A thriller. She’d never read anything like this, but the first few pages grabbed her attention and didn’t let go. She never looked up from the pages until she felt a heavy weight upon her.

Lifting her gaze, she met Corey’s bright eyes. Her stomach fluttered and she lowered the book.

“You’re still here.” His voice was rough, as if he’d gargled glass.

“Let me get you a drink.” She stood and hurried off to the kitchen, her thoughts coming at her from all angles. Would he kiss her again? Would he feel she’d intruded by cleaning up his space? How would his hands feel if he moved them over her ass, pulling her onto his cock?

In the kitchen, she had to look out the window at the alley below to gain some semblance of control. She wasn’t here to jump the man. He wasn’t even in any shape for her to do that.

She retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and returned to his side. He was sitting up, a distracted expression on his rugged features. When she handed him the bottle, he curled his fingers over hers. Holding her captive.

She stopped breathing. Their gazes locked.

“Sit and talk to me, Sarita.”

“Okay.” She started to move back to the recliner, but he pulled on her arm, tugging her down to sit next to him. The way his big thigh pressed against hers sent pangs of need straight to her pussy. What she wouldn’t give for one of her toys now. Tonight it was going to get a workout and she’d need a fresh set of batteries.

“Can I get you another drink?” she asked.

He set a hand on her forearm. “I’m fine, thank you. I appreciate your help today.”

Feeling a little shy, she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I feel better knowing you were looked after.”

“And you do this for all your patients?” His dark gaze stabbed deep into hers, sending ribbons of heat through her lower belly. His eyes darted back and forth as he searched the depths of hers as if to uncover the truth.

When she could stand no more, she tore her gaze away.

He settled back against his pillows again. “That’s what I thought.”

“Okay, so I don’t track down all my patients. I guess I worried about you a little more.”

“Why?” His tone came out as a challenge. She moved away a fraction so their bodies no longer touched.

“I’m not sure why,” she lied. She did know. The pull she felt toward him was magnetic. It was as strong as gravity and she was as helpless against it. She’d learn how to fly faster then she’d figure out how to stop thinking about him.

A crevice of worry stood between his brows, making him look menacing. She wasn’t fooled—he was a sweet puppy dog.
At least when he wants to be.

Before she could turn the topic, he did. “So you had today off?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow too.”

“Hm.” His noise sounded more like a grunt. Maybe Sarita shouldn’t think of coming back tomorrow to help him. He might desire his privacy and she’d barged into his life and demanded he eat when she said eat. Then she’d cleaned his apartment, taking liberties with his belongings that she shouldn’t have.

She scooted farther away but he didn’t give her an inch more of space on the sofa. Torn, she perched on the edge. She couldn’t read him. Did he want to be rid of her or keep her close by him?

“I wish to hell I could go back to work,” he muttered.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I’d be going crazy too with excess time on my hands.”

“I have work to do but it’s being exhausted that’s taking its toll.”

She arched a brow. “What kind of work are you doing? You just got home from the hospital at the beginning of the week!”

A storm cloud broke over his features. “The arsonist set that fire that gave me this injury. I can’t rest until I know the bastard’s behind bars.”

At the quiet vehemence behind his words, her breath hitched. To be so filled with passion…well, not many men would make it a personal mission to find the criminal.

“Surely there’s a team of detectives on the case. You shouldn’t have to be worrying—”

He raised a hand to stay her thought. “They haven’t found him so far, and I’m the only guy who has the time. I’ve got nothing
but
time right now.”

“But you need to concentrate on getting better. Your injury wasn’t something to take lightly, Corey.”

He stared at her lips as a wolf might stare at a small animal, ready to pounce. She twisted her fingers, heart rate increasing. Was he going to kiss her again?

The moment passed with a shake of his head. “I can’t kick back and relax while my fellow firefighters’ lives are on the line. This asshole needs to be caught.”

“I agree with you, but you’re hardly kicking back relaxing.”

The stubborn set of his jaw told her she was wasting her breath. He’d do what he wanted, at the cost of his own health. She suspected the things she’d seen on his laptop were research for the case.

Pushing out a breath, she stood. “I understand but I hope you’ll consider what I said. You don’t have any obligations besides making yourself whole again.”

The muscle in the crease of his jaw fluttered. “I don’t feel that way.”

They stared at each other for several heartbeats. “I hope you’ll reconsider. If you don’t get enough rest, you could be laid up longer.”

“I know what’s best for myself.”

A humorless laugh escaped her. “I disagree. No wife, sister, or mother would tell you to get up and work to find an arsonist.”

“And because I don’t have those women in my life, you’re going to do that?” His throat mottled red.

She took a step back, trying to make sense of his physical reaction to their argument. Was he only angry or was something else at play? She put more distance between them, grabbing her handbag and stuffing her stethoscope back inside. “I’ll leave you be, Corey.”

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