Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (14 page)

Tears streamed from her eyes as she cried—full-out sobbed and gasped—for the first time, maybe ever. It couldn’t have been a pretty sight. He’d never think of her the same way again. So much had been lost. “So sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He crashed to his knees in front of her, reaching out but stopping halfway, as if afraid to touch her.

Screw that. She flung herself into his arms, rocking him onto his heels.

He caught her and held tight, wrapping around her like a security blanket. “It’s okay, sweetheart. That piece of shit is gone. Kurt’s got him. He’ll be lucky to make it to jail with just the shiner he acquired as I escorted him to the curb.”

“Oh no.” Becca launched to her feet. “I can’t believe you left them alone. You know Kurt wants to destroy the man already. I’m sure twice as much now. Who’s going to keep my husband from sharing a cell with James?”

Brielle shuddered, thinking of how she had split the darkness with the drunk man. She wouldn’t condemn anyone to that fate.

“Tell her she can go.” Luke interrupted her torrential downpour of tears. “I’ve got you. No one will lay a finger on you but me.”

“O-okay.” She lifted her head from his shoulder to meet Becca’s gaze.

“Luke, think it through. No way can she ride on your bike. And we’re not going to be able to give you a lift. Not for a while. The police will have a ton of questions for us. I can protect you both, tell them as her doctor she’s not available for interrogation tonight.” Becca put one hand on each of their backs. “I’ll call a cab on my way out.”

“No need. I thought maybe we’d be shot-gunning champagne tonight. So I reserved a suite. Before Brielle turned me down.” He grimaced. “I’m not used to women saying no to me.”

“Maybe it will do you some good from time to time.” Becca kissed Luke’s cheek then squeezed Brielle’s shoulder. “Really, I can’t tell you how sorry I am this happened. Please, don’t let it come between you. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for causing you a major setback.”

“You’re in no way responsible for this, babe.” Luke gave her a one-armed hug. “I’ll call you guys in the morning. First thing.”

“Love you.”

“Same goes.” He never once stopped soothing Brielle. Nor did he attempt to squash her outpouring of grief, which rejuvenated periodically as pockets of terror burst from where she’d stored them deep inside. Instead, he held her, protected her against the assault of years of misery all mashed into one awful release.

“That’s right.” Comforting nonsense intermixed with delicate kisses and tentative touches rained over her like a refreshing summer shower. “Storing everything up is like swallowing poison. Over time, too much, it’s deadly. Get it out.”

As he spoke, he rose to his feet, keeping her cradled in his embrace. She curled against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He whispered to her, “Close your eyes, Brielle. Don’t open them until I tell you. Can you do that for me?”

She obeyed without responding. No affirmation could penetrate the crying she couldn’t seem to stop.

He must have glanced down at her. “That’s right. Good girl. You’re safe. I have you.”

A steady motion made her certain he carried her along the hallway. Concerned voices tried to intrude on the frail shelter he’d constructed around her. He didn’t acknowledge the intruders, didn’t stop or allow them to penetrate the cocoon he’d spun for her.

When a false-cheery
ding
rang in her ears, every muscle in her body stiffened. Except the ones controlling her eyelids. They sprang open.

“Keep them closed, sweetheart. Remember?” He must have realized how impossible the task would be. His hand curled around beneath her, covering her eyes. “It’s too far for me to carry you, and there’s no way you can walk thirty-three flights in this condition. If it helps, know the walls are all glass. You can see lights for miles around. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t help hyperventilating when he stepped forward and the sound changed. A little bit echoey, a little bit quieter than the hallway had been.

The sound of the doors shutting had her tensing in his hold. Not again.

He covered the noise and the subsequent chirping of the passing floors by singing to her, the same song they’d danced to earlier. “Strangers in the Night” had never sounded so beautiful, despite the hoarse rasp of this particular rendition. She’d bet he had an amazing voice…usually.

Streams of tears slowed to a trickle as she zeroed in on his lullaby.

Her stomach lurched when the elevator stopped.

“Amazing.” He didn’t waste any time exiting the car. Kisses peppered her face after he removed her impromptu blindfold. “You’re so brave, Brielle.”

“Hardly.” Hating the congestion transforming her refutation into a nasally whine, she shook her head. “I can’t believe I let that asshole get the better of me. I should have stopped him before it got to—”

“Don’t you dare do that.” Quiet fury from him surprised her.

She wriggled as he approached a room. Balancing her on his hip, he didn’t set her down. Instead, he dug a key card from his front pocket and swiped it through the reader. When the indicator flashed green, he flung open the door and strode inside.

“You have no responsibility in tonight’s disaster.” He didn’t bother to prevent the door from slamming.

Brielle cringed.

“And I’m scaring you.” He sighed then set her down gently. Shaky fingers scrubbed through his hair then across his goatee. She wondered what he’d look like without the random dark patch. It simply didn’t jive with the rest of his gilded features. And neither did his current negativity. “Shit. I’m sorry. I know better, but when I’m with you, I forget about most everything else. Knowing that fuckwad was anywhere near you, it made me see red.”

“You cared. You chased him off. You let me out of the closet.” A fresh tear welled up. How could there still be anything left inside her to generate the moisture? “You saved me. Thank you.”

A feral cry tore from him when the droplet tracked down her soaked cheek. His hand clapped his chest and massaged the light blue fabric over his heart. “I have to touch you. Please, tell me that’s okay?”

She shied away from his approach.

“You’re not ready. Of course.” He stopped immediately. “No pressure. If it helps, I can hold you again while we lie in bed. If not, we can sit and talk. Or you can sleep and I’ll watch over you. Whatever you need, Brielle. I’ll give you anything.”

“It’s not that. I feel as though…I’ll get you dirty or something.”

“Never.” Luke cursed beneath his breath. He breached the yawning space between them and swiped the lingering tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. “It’s not possible.”

“I can smell the alcohol on me.” The terror too, she thought. “I can feel where he grabbed me.”

Luke bent in half, bracing his hands on his knees for a moment or two. Loud, ragged breaths rattled through his chest before he straightened, all turmoil wiped from his expression.

“Come with me.” He held out his hand.

She looked from it to his face and back, then swallowed hard before placing her palm on his. He guided her through the opulent area she hadn’t taken time to appreciate yet. Plush carpet gave way to luxurious tiles, marble if she had to guess. Her shoes clicked on the shiny surface.

Luke supported her with an arm around her waist when she faltered, waving her hands to regain her balance. Except with him so near and the horror of the recent events mingling with her endorphin rush from the evening of dancing, dining and laughing, she couldn’t quite find her footing.

A red velvet bench accepted her weight easily when he lowered her to its seat. Less delicate than it appeared, it buttressed her in style. She felt for a moment like the subject of an elegant painting. The dress and her surroundings mocked her. An impostor, given the extremes of her misery.

She sat, unfocused, for several seconds. When her eyes missed the sight of Luke, they sought him out. He fiddled with gold handles on what appeared to be a small swimming pool, or maybe an enormous jetted tub, sunken into the floor.

Fragrant foam sprang to life right where the pounding water met the hard surface of the tub. From two unrelenting, punishing forces came something beautiful and refreshing. Could it be that way for her too?

“I can leave you to bathe by yourself if you prefer.” He frowned. “Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone. And even more frankly, I don’t care to be either.”

“Stay,” she mumbled, barely able to form the request.

Chapter Nine

“Thank you.” Luke crossed to her in two strides. He bent, slipping her shoes from her feet, eliciting a gasp and wince. “I’ll fix that in a minute. I give great foot massages. But first, this dress.”

She stared when he worked the material above her knees. Then he began from the top down, untying and unhooking and unlacing until her breasts were bared to his gaze. Behind him, the rest of the city sprawled, framed in the floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite side of the bathing pool. “Um, can people see us?”

The squeak didn’t have any sexiness to it. She recalled her father’s friends, assigned to watch her take the fastest baths in the history of the world. Poor Luke, he couldn’t know about all of her quirks. Not yet.

She crossed her arms over her chest, moaning when her hard nipples pressed into her forearms.

“The windows are mirrored from the outside,” he assured her. “While I like to show off from time to time, tonight I only care about you and me. No one else is here with us.”

Brielle realized he referred to the ghosts of her past as well as the drunk doctor who’d trapped her in the coat closet. She nodded.

“Good.” He ran his fingers down the length of her arm until he reached her wrist. Gently, he pried it from her body then kissed each mound before traveling lower. Her stomach flexed when he licked a hot trail around her belly button. “You’re beautiful, Brielle. So sweet.”

With the sheath bunched around her waist, she had no option but to stand for him to remove it. He helped her up then quickly dispatched the silk, which landed in a pile with a rustle. For a moment, she regretted taking Becca’s advice, ditching her underwear to avoid panty lines.

Completely bare, she stood before Luke. Hands at her sides, eyes and heart wide open, she allowed him to judge every bit of her, shivering the entire time.

“Brielle.” Her name sounded like a prayer when he uttered it like that.

Luke approached her, but no fear entered her mind.

He scooped her into his arms, kicked off his shoes and waded into the enormous tub, still fully clothed. Half-full, the pool had a water level high enough he ended up drenched from the waist down.

“I think you missed a step in this process.” She grinned at him when he set her on a contoured ledge. Once the tub was full her resting place would be submerged yet her head would be above water. Warmth seeped into her bones, helping her relax muscles she hadn’t even realized were knotted.

“Welcome back, smart ass.” He chuckled as he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I missed you. Besides, you were cold.”

“I could have waited a minute.” She sighed, secretly glad for the heat. It helped thaw the frost that had crystallized on her heart.

“No need to suffer.” He let the promise sink in. “So you’re okay with me getting naked too? Tell me if I cross any of your lines. We haven’t talked about them all yet, I know. I don’t want to do something by accident to upset you.”

“Then strip. I’ll feel weird if you don’t.
Unbalanced
.” A blush raced up her chest. It was evident in her current state. “And I’d really like to see you.”

The powerful stretch and play of his muscles had thrilled her earlier this morning. Had it only been one day since she’d lain in his arms on her ugly sofa?

After waking, he’d roamed her apartment like a jungle cat, stalking to the bathroom and back with efficient use of his glorious physique. While they’d danced earlier, the firm column of his thigh had pressed between her legs, teasing her with his solid frame. It was about time she quit relying on her imagination to fill in the gaps.

“I like that look a hell of a lot better. You can cry on my shoulder anytime, Brielle, but I plan to give you things to smile about more often than not.” He sank into the riot of bubbles. The water lapping against his chest plastered his light shirt to his torso.

His hands splashed, breaking the surface as he slung first one sock then the other onto the edge of the tub, far from their resting place. Next came his suit pants. Then a pair of boxer briefs. And finally he shrugged out of his tailored jacket, folding it over the ledge despite its soggy state.

Brielle smiled up at him, crossing her ankles in an attempt to press her thighs together for relief. Knowing not much separated them went a long way toward replacing her lingering fear with desperate need.

He could make her forget. Exchange all her fears for heat. Heal her soul with his gentle touch. Disprove every ugly truth she thought she’d discovered about men and life in general.

Please let her have been wrong about it all.

“Are you sure you want this gone?” He toyed with the top button of his shirt.

“I didn’t realize you were such a cock-tease.” She raised one brow.