M.D. Most Wanted Page 13

  Her arms went around his neck and she clung to him.

  There was no doubt, no hesitation, no place for either. This was right. In this place, in this time, it was right.

  The refrain echoed in her brain over and over again.

  The kiss grew, the fire rose, fanned by both of them until it was larger than either.

  Somewhere in the middle of the swirling abyss the kiss created, London felt her feet leave the ground, felt Reese’s arms tighten around her as he picked her up and turned away from the foyer.

  She drew her head back to look at him, confusion in her eyes.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he whispered, his throat so tight the words literally had to be pushed through.

  It took her a moment to remember. Everything in her head felt jumbled. London pointed toward the rear of the apartment.

  He kissed her again, sealing his mouth to hers, and then began walking.

  Each kiss he pressed to her lips melted her a little further. Doing the same to him. Sapping his strength a little more.

  Reese had the vague sensation of walking for a time. Finally looking up, he saw that they still hadn’t reached the bedroom door. It was at the end of the hall.

  Curling her body against him, absorbing the warmth of his chest through the clothing—his and hers—that was still a barrier, London looked up at him and saw the smile on his lips. Could taste it even though there was space between them.

  “What?”

  There was amusement in his eyes. “Your apartment’s bigger than the house where I grew up.” Not to mention far more elegant. He had a feeling that each piece in it could equal the price of all the furniture his mother had once owned. Certainly the baby grand could.

  She wanted to know about that, about the house where he’d grown up.

  About him.

  About the boy he’d been and even about the woman who had raised him. Questions filled her head, all manner of questions that surprised her.

  Personal questions.

  She didn’t want this to get personal, wanted only to draw the fun, the pleasure out of it—like eating the sweetest part of an orange—and then toss the rest of it away. It was neater that way. Less complicated. Less involving.

  She didn’t want to get involved, not at any cost, because it would be too great. She knew that, accepted that.

  The questions remained, multiplying. Teasing her. Troubling her.

  She blocked them out with a resolve that had been years in the making and sealed her mouth to his with a passion that was calculated to take his breath away. It succeeded in stealing hers, as well.

  Kissing her over and over again, Reese lowered her until her feet touched the floor.

  Her arms tightened around his neck as she pressed her body to his. The hard contours heightened her excitement. She could feel his desire, feel him want her.

  An urgency seized her.

  Feeling almost frenzied, she curved her fingers along the lapels of his jacket and pulled it from his shoulders, down his arms. She threw it to the side.

  Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt.

  Catching her hands, he stopped her.

  Dazed, London looked up at him in mute confusion. And became lost in the smile on his lips.

  “Some of the moves have to be mine,” he told her quietly.

  She swallowed, afraid to draw in a breath, afraid of the moment ending.

  Reaching behind her, Reese took the tongue of her zipper and lightly pulled it down the length of her spine. She could feel pins and needles traveling up and down her flesh, breaking every single California freeway speed limit.

  Her eyes never leaving his, she shrugged her shoulders. Her dress fell to the floor, pooling around her feet. Displaying her body.

  His heart stopped for a split second, then began to beat wildly. She was wearing only thong underwear and black tinted stockings, the kind that came up to her thigh, ending in a flurry of black lace.

  He felt his gut tightening so hard, it threatened to snap him in two.

  His gaze washed over her, heated, possessive. A sound that could only be termed as appreciative escaped his lips. Cupping her breasts, he drew her close and kissed her throat.

  Her head fell back as pleasure filled her and expanded, leaving no space untouched, unlit. She felt as if she could have guided a thousand ships home on her inner light alone.

  Her loins ached and she pressed herself against his hardness, eager for the final moment. Wanting gratification the way she had never wanted it before.

  It was a long time in coming.

  Lowering her to the bed, Reese made love to every part of her, to her eyes, her cheeks, her hair. To the slope of her shoulders, the hollow of her throat. The curves and dips along her body, caressing, then kissing them. Causing wondrous things to happen along the terrain of her body, wondrous explosions to rack her when she was least prepared.

  It was like a wonderful dream.

  She never wanted to wake up.

  Moaning, trying to maintain at least a shred of decorum, she arched against him as he coaxed each stocking away from her legs. Teasing it from each leg, he kissed each inch that was exposed.

  It took a long time for the stockings to finally join her dress on the floor.

  Just as she tried to catch her breath, Reese pressed his lips against the small swatch of nylon that still covered her.

  She felt the heat of his breath searing into her inner core, making her moist.

  Making her crazy.

  She couldn’t keep from wiggling against his mouth, couldn’t keep from arching into him, silently urging him to go further.

  To take her further.

  When the material seemed to melt away and his tongue found her, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and cried out. The climax was sudden, hard and shook her to the bottom of her soul.

  She was vaguely aware of the smile on his mouth as it curved against her skin. Intensely aware of her own need for more.

  He brought her to a second climax that racked her body and drained her energy. It took effort for her to even draw a breath.

  And then he was above her, his firm body ready for her. Nude, poised.

  She realized that she must have somehow clawed away his clothing, but when and how were details she couldn’t remember.

  All she knew was that she needed him to be with her, to be in her. To take her to the place he’d silently been promising her with every movement of his body.

  And still he waited, prolonging the moment. Heightening the anticipation for both of them.

  Reese had no idea where all these feelings that were assaulting him were coming from. He was aware of being surrounded, of having every movement choreographed by some unseen power that seemed to be outside his own consciousness.

  He was moving to an inner music, an inner fire he had never encountered before.

  He wanted to possess her, to feel that final explosive satisfaction that came from having a woman.

  He wanted it to continue eternally.

  Each time he thought he’d reached a pinnacle, that what he was feeling inside couldn’t get any higher, it did. He was not in control here. It was this feeling that had taken over. It was in control of both of them and he could only hang on for as long as possible, enjoying the ride.

  Enjoying her.

  London felt as if she’d been taken by a huge wave and carried away beyond the point where she could form coherent thoughts. This was a place where thought and fears could not reach. It was a place that was warm and safe and exciting.

  “If you don’t take me now,” she warned him, her breath coming in disjointed snatches, “I’m going to self-destruct and incinerate right here.”

  He smiled into her eyes, feeling things he’d never felt before, telling himself it was the moment, not the woman.

  “Can’t have that,” he said, his voice hoarse from wanting her, from the restraint he had been exercising since the moment they’d walked into the apartment.
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br />   Because as soon as the door had closed, as soon as he’d looked into her eyes, held her in his arms, he could have taken her there, on her marble foyer, making wild, mindless love to her like the streetwise kid he’d once been.

  But she deserved so much more, and if there was only to be this one time for them, he was determined that it was going to be memorable. This much he’d silently sworn to himself and to her.

  But the time for promises, silent and otherwise, was over. There was only so much restraint a body could stand, and his was almost past the brink.

  It was time.

  Balancing his body above hers, Reese used his knee to part her legs, his eyes never leaving her face.

  She pressed her lips together, a passenger in the front seat of a roller coaster about to fling itself down a steep incline.

  As Reese sheathed himself in her, the power of his entry all but caused him to spin out of control. He brought his mouth down to hers. And for a moment all he did was kiss her, over and over again.

  She couldn’t take it any longer, couldn’t bear to wait, even though she knew she should. London began to move beneath him.

  Urged on by her movement, Reese began to move, slowly at first, setting the pace. He could hear her breathing, feel her chest moving as her shallow breaths became shorter. Hear himself as their sounds matched and converged.

  Tightening his arms around her, Reese stepped up the pace. A thousand dancing lights surrounded them as they both climbed to the highest crest.

  The explosion claimed them both. He heard her cry out his name, felt it echo along his body.

  He held her for a very long time, even as the lights in his head faded into the background.

  Even as the sound of his breathing slowly leveled itself out.

  He wanted to continue holding her until forever descended on them both.

  Reese felt he had a good head start.

  He knew which windows were hers, had memorized that section on the face of the apartment building. His eyes were instinctively drawn to it whenever he looked up, whenever he kept vigil.

  Several minutes after she had entered the building with that worthless cur she’d allowed to accompany her, he watched the lights go out and felt his soul being extinguished.

  He knew what was happening, could see it almost as clearly as if it were happening right in front of him instead of twenty stories above.

  A guttural sound clawed at his throat, trapped there by sheer force of will.

  She’d betrayed him.

  He had forgiven her her previous trespasses because their paths had not crossed then, and she could not be held accountable for what she’d done before she’d met him.

  But now, now was different.

  Now she knew him. Knew he existed.

  He’d wooed her, taken the soft, gentle path to her heart. And she did this to him? Gave herself to another man? Let another man touch her, be with her, when by all rights, it should have been him?

  It should have been him.

  How could she?

  Tears stung his eyes as the red flames of rage consumed his sorrow.

  He could not tear his eyes away from the darkened windows of her apartment.

  The darkness enshrouded him. He felt himself suffocating.

  His rage mounted.

  Chapter 12

  London stirred, realizing that she was beginning to doze off.

  The thought that she was comfortable enough with this man to do that ushered in warring emotions. Contentment clashed with fear. As much as part of her was drawn to and yearned for contentment, London knew she couldn’t allow herself to let her guard down, couldn’t allow herself to reach for feelings that others took for granted. Because she had learned the hard way that those same feelings could leave wounds in their wake that might never heal, that could destroy you.

  Awake now, she pulled away from Reese, tucking the sheet around herself. She banked down the ache that was beginning to form within her. “I just want you to know that there are no strings attached.”

  Her tone was different. The intimacy was gone, replaced by a distance that belied their proximity. What had changed in the last few minutes, he wondered. He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t done anything but hold her.

  Turning, he looked at her face. There were barriers up. Why?

  “I think you covered that in your no-commitment speech earlier this evening.”

  Edgy, annoyed with herself for going deeper into her soul than she knew was safe, London took exception to the word he used. Was he being sarcastic?

  “It wasn’t a speech,” she told him. “I just wanted to make the ground rules clear.”

  “Ground rules?” His eyes narrowed. Had he misread everything that was going on here? “Was this some kind of sporting event?”

  She shrugged. The sheet slipped. London quickly tugged it back into place. “Most men would look at it that way.”

  Had her other lovers? Was that why she’d suddenly pulled back from him? Without allowing himself to get entrenched any further, Reese tried to make sense out of what was being said here.

  “I’m not most men, London. I’ve never found myself yearning to go along with the mainstream.”

  She knew that. Sensed that. Despite her struggle to remain behind the lines that had been drawn in the sand, she found herself smiling. London tossed her head, her hair raining over her shoulder. “Maybe that’s what I find so attractive.”

  It was an act, he thought. To what purpose? Self-preservation? Or was she as removed from the scene as her behavior suggested?

  “And maybe you should stop playing Rita Hayworth in Blood and Sand.”

  He was trying to rattle her, she thought. Well, she wasn’t going to let him. Wasn’t going to allow him to shake her foundation any further than he already had. “Sorry, must have missed that one.”

  Definitely trying to shut him out, he thought. “I’m surprised, you’ve got the part down to a T.”

  There was nothing left for him to do but to get dressed and go home. He had no idea why he didn’t, what compelled him to remain. Maybe it was the look in her eyes that he was sure she wasn’t aware of. The one that made him think of a vulnerable girl hiding inside a woman’s body.

  He made her feel fidgety, restless. As if her thoughts just didn’t fit into one another. Sitting up on her knees, she drew the sheet up with her. “I just don’t want you reading anything into this, that’s all.”

  She made their lovemaking sound casual. Had it been? He hadn’t thought so, he had felt a real connection, but maybe he was wrong. “So, do you go to bed with every man you have dinner with?”

  Lightning flashed in her eyes. “No.”

  He’d struck a nerve. Good. “All right, we’ll narrow the circle. Every doctor?”

  “No.” She knew she should terminate the conversation, ignore it, and yet…

  And yet some part of her didn’t want him to think of her as the kind of woman she was trying to portray. Some part of her wanted him to know that however briefly it lasted, this had been special.

  Was special.

  “Then just the ones who save your life.” He saw she was about to say something and had a hunch it would be flippant. He gave her the truth. “You went into cardiac arrest on the table.”

  Her eyes widened. This was the first she’d heard of that. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I was saving it.” The truth was he hadn’t wanted to alarm her and there seemed no reason for her to know all the gruesome details. But maybe she should. Maybe she should come face-to-face with her own mortality. “It helps to have an ace in the hole to play at moments like this.”

  That sounded far too calculating. From what she’d learned about him, Reese wasn’t like that. “You didn’t know there’d be moments like this. You’re lying.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was referring to her brush with death or to his supposedly saving the information for an opportune time.

  “Not about the cardiac arrest.
It happens sometimes,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “The body goes into shock. There were no aftereffects in your case and I didn’t want to upset you.” Right from the start he’d had this instinctive desire to protect her. He had no idea why. London certainly didn’t seem fragile.

  Maybe that was it, he thought. On some level he could see that she was acting, that the woman behind the facade was fragile.

  Silence hung between them. It was time to go. Reese reached for his trousers.

  London had no idea why watching such a simple action filled her with such melancholy. Shifting so that she was behind him, she rose up again and pressed a kiss to his neck.

  The flow of emotion was immediate, filling his veins, taking possession of him.

  Turning, Reese pulled her onto his lap. The sheet she was trying to hang on to was left behind. His arms enfolded her.

  “Changing the ground rules again?”

  Her heart was pounding. All she could do was look at him. Waiting. Anticipating.

  “Playing it by ear as I go along,” she breathed.

  He knew this wasn’t going anywhere, knew it couldn’t go anywhere. Neither one of them really wanted it to.

  And yet he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist her. So he pretended to play the same game she was playing, with the same nebulous rules. And one rule was that neither of them could be there in the morning.

  But for now they had the night, and for now that was enough.

  They made the most of it.

  One night wove itself into the promise of a next, and a next.

  London wasn’t sure just how it happened, only that it did. One moment, Reese Bendenetti wasn’t part of her life, and then he was. She still told herself that she could walk away whenever she wanted, just as she had always done before. And since she could walk away, she didn’t. She postponed it, confident that when she was tired of the game, the man, the moment, she could just shut down and move on, the way she had whenever a relationship threatened to move beyond the realm of casual fun into something more serious. Until then, she would enjoy herself. Enjoy him.

  And as one day slipped into another, she found herself waiting for his call, figuratively holding her breath until she heard Reese’s voice over the telephone, caressing her ear. Stirring her.