The Doctor Claims His Bride (13 page)

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Authors: Fiona Lowe

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Medical, #Romance

BOOK: The Doctor Claims His Bride
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She kicked up and swam until she could feel sand under her toes. She opened her eyes to find Flynn’s hazel gaze seeking hers. ‘This is glorious.’

He smiled a long, slow smile that sent mini-shock waves of pleasure rocking through her. His hand reached out and with the pad of his thumb he brushed away the remnants of the mud on her cheek. ‘You’re glorious. Even covered in mud you’re completely sensational.’ The words came out low and tremulous.

Her breath stalled in her throat as his fingers trailed along her jaw—a feather-light touch with incendiary properties. Her knees buckled and she gripped his arm.

His hand slowly curved behind her neck, and she moved toward him, drawn by the invisible force of attraction that had been building between them from the moment they’d met.

It was as if every bone in her body had dissolved and she could no longer support herself. She laid her head on his shoulder, with her chest pressed against his, feeling his heart pounding under her breast, and she knew at that moment this was exactly where she wanted to be.

She wanted
him
.

She was tired of fighting this overwhelming attraction. She wanted his arms wrapped tightly around her,
his stubble grazing her cheek and his hot mouth working its magic all over her, leaving no place untouched. She wanted it all.

Live for the moment
.

For the first time in her life she was going to take what she wanted and not worry about the future.

CHAPTER EIGHT

F
LYNN
gloried in the feel of Mia’s wet body pressed against his own as his heart pounded his urgent need for her to every cell of his body. His lips trailed kisses along the curve of her ear and somehow he managed to speak through a hoarse throat. ‘This thing between us, this simmering attraction, you feel it too, don’t you?’

She slowly raised her head, unmistakable desire clear and bold in her sea-blue eyes. ‘Oh, yes.’

His body tightened at her low and husky response. It took every ounce of his self-control not to plunder her mouth right there and then. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. ‘Do you have a plan?’

A flash of something sparked for a second behind the desire in her eyes and then faded as fast as it had appeared. ‘I don’t make plans. I just take things day by day.’ She raised her hand to his cheek. ‘Right now I want to make love to you. It’s as simple as that.’

Perfect
. Her words released his corralled lust, the stampede of need stripping away almost all rational thought, but one small voice spoke up.
Women never see sex as simple
. He opened his mouth to reply but she immediately
rested her forefinger against his lips, perception shining in her eyes and understanding lining her smile.

‘Shh, don’t panic. I don’t expect you to marry me, I don’t expect or want anything from you except this.’ Her mouth tilted against his, her lips hot, hard and demanding.

White lights showered in his head, and with a moan he greedily returned the kiss, taking what she offered and seeking even more.

Wet arms snaked around his neck, fingers gripped his hair and her taste exploded in his mouth as wild as the honey they’d supped on earlier. He’d never experienced a kiss like it. Frank and unabashed lust danced with a poignant tenderness. With each and every wondrous exploration her mouth managed to give and take simultaneously, threatening to shatter the wall he’d so carefully constructed around his heart.

Mia suddenly found the thin barrier of wet clothing between them more than she could bear. She wanted to feel Flynn’s skin against hers but she couldn’t bear for her lips to abandon his so she tried to push his T-shirt up his back. But the wet fabric stuck like a second skin.

Her need to be closer to him overrode her need to stay connected to the kiss and she pulled back. ‘Wet clothes suck.’

His laugh sent trails of delight shivering through her, which doubled in intensity as he hauled his T-shirt over his head, exposing a muscular chest and stomach with a smattering of dark hair trailing downwards and disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. She had to force breath into her lungs.

He held out his arms to her. ‘Is this better?’

Better?
He was a gift. Her gift. ‘Almost.’ Her gaze fell to his waist. ‘But you’re not completely unwrapped.’

‘I will be in a moment.’ He bent down to shuck his shorts.

She wanted to touch him, taste him and hold him against her, but she had to get her own clothes off first. Her fingers fumbled and her arms got tangled in cloying, wet cotton as she tried to drag her shirt over her head. Need duelled with frustration. The shirt finally came free and she managed to kick off her shorts. She tossed the soggy garments onto the bank next to Flynn’s clothes and then reached down to unclasp her bra.

His hand covered hers, stalling her intent. ‘I want to do that.’

She stared up into eyes as dark as polished jarrah. ‘Really?’

He nodded almost hypnotically. ‘Really.’

With a slow and deliberate touch he trailed the fingers of his free hand down along the ruched strap of her bra, across the lacy edges and down into the cleft between her breasts.

Her breasts strained against the soft fabric as each light caress fired off a volley of sensation, both delicious and tormenting at the same time.

His fingers undid the clasp with ease and with an almost reverent touch his hands cupped her breasts, supporting their tingling and aching weight.

‘You’re beautiful.’ His thumb brushed her nipples.

A moan left her lips as her head fell back, her body quivering but demanding more.

With his hand on one breast, his mouth closed over the other, his heat roared through her like a fireball, torching every part of her and branding her as his.

Her legs buckled.

He pulled her against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his desire for her hard and firm against her thigh. The wonder that she could arouse him showered over her, giving her a taste of power, and deep inside her a pulse throbbed.

She gave herself up to every glorious sensation, letting them rule her body and her mind, letting them drive out every fear and dread for the future, and letting them take her out of her normal world into a realm she couldn’t have imagined existed.

The only thing that existed was his touch on her and selfishly she took it all.

He raised his head.

Don’t stop, please, don’t stop
. Through the haze of desire she managed to focus on him. His eyes burned brightly with a fundamental craving. A craving for her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, kissing him, seeking his essence and giving her own.

His palms gripped her buttocks, holding her close, and his chest shuddered against hers, his groan vibrating in her mouth. Then one hand slid between her thighs and his thumb caressed her.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

She shattered in a moment, crying out as sensation
ripped through her—giving, taking, changing. Creating a kernel of hope.

She sank against him, her head resting on his neck, embarrassment staining her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. Who knew I was this easy?’

‘Shh.’ He stroked her head, his voice soft. ‘I wanted to give that to you. I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be glad.’

Her heart soared in awe. She’d never had such a considerate lover.

He carried her through the water until his back was resting against the mossy bank. Holding her with one arm, he reached for his shorts.

She looked up over his shoulder. ‘You came prepared?’

He grinned. ‘One of us had to have a plan.’ His fingers reached into his pocket.

She couldn’t stop the wide smile breaking across her face. He’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him. ‘Good thinking. But I think it’s my turn to give you something.’ She plucked the small blue packet out of his hand.

‘Hey!’ He reached for it, his free hand wrapping around her wrist.

She quickly switched hands, knowing his other arm held her. ‘I promise I’ll be very thorough.’

He growled deep in his throat. ‘That’s what I’m worried about.’ He suddenly let her go, grabbing the condom as she fell back, laughing.

The water slid over her as joy surged through her. She surfaced, still laughing. Flynn stood before her, tall and proud like a warrior ready for battle. Her laughter died
in her throat as heady need exploded and muscles twitched, aching to be filled.

He hauled her against him, his breathing ragged, his eyes almost black with longing. Strong arms lifted her and she lowered herself onto him, taking him deeply with a hungry intensity that screamed to be sated.

‘Flynn.’ His name came out as a wail of longing.

It was all he needed.

He moved against her, filling her with heat, power and something undefinable. Something she didn’t know she’d been missing.

On a maelstrom of sensation they climbed toward ecstasy, reaching it at the same moment in a blaze of lights that cascaded over them, sending them soaring beyond themselves, tempting them never to return.

*

The moon rose from behind a cloud, its bright white beams lighting the sky in a fair imitation of dawn. The frogs sang, the magpie geese honked and the fire crackled and hissed as Flynn sat with his back supported by a fallen tree. Mia rested between his legs; her back snuggled up against his chest and an unfamiliar feeling of contentment wove through him.

She tilted her head back and looked up at him, her eyes a smoky blue. ‘I had no idea the bush was so noisy.’

He dropped a kiss onto her hair. ‘Between the bright moon and those geese, I doubt we’ll get much sleep tonight.’

She turned in his arms, her brows raised and her lips twitching with a smile. ‘You were planning on sleeping, were you? I thought you might have had other plans.’

A swoop of desire meshed with laughter. ‘You’re going to wear me out.’

He couldn’t believe his good fortune. He held an incredibly desirable woman in his arms, a woman who had made love to him with almost frenetic abandon in the waterhole and then gloriously slowly on the mossy bank, and she didn’t want anything from him.

Something’s not right
.

He kicked the wayward thought straight out of his head, hard and fast, replacing it with the memory of how they’d lain together on a carpet of moss, exploring each other until the sinking sun and mosquitoes had forced them to retreat and make camp.

Her lips brushed his in a kiss devoid of heat but full of affection. ‘I might need some food before I wear you out again. Do you think our seafood feast is ready?’

‘It should be. The whelks have cooled and I’ll check the barramundi.’ He stood up, and hauled Mia to her feet. ‘You get the plates.’

‘Plastic or paper bark?’

‘That’s up to you. Paperbark plates just go into the fire at the end of the meal.’

She grinned. ‘No washing-up suits me.’ She flicked on her LED headlamp and walked over to a melaleuca tree to strip off some bark.

He unwrapped the fish and with a fork checked the flesh, which separated easily. He called to Mia, who was walking back toward him. ‘Can you grab the sparkling grape juice and the salad out of the cooler?’

‘Sure. How’s my damper?’

‘It’s cooked and demanding lashings of butter.’

Five minutes later, with their paperbark plates filled with food, Flynn pulled a cooked whelk out of its shell and dangled it in front of Mia’s mouth. ‘Open wide.’

She pulled back slightly, a horrified look streaking across her face. ‘It’s bright blue.’

He loved teasing her. ‘Yes, but at least it isn’t moving, like the green ants.’

‘True.’ She sounded sceptical. ‘What about I try a mussel first?’

He tucked a few stray stands of hair behind her ear. ‘You’re stalling.’

Indignation flared in her eyes and then laughter followed. ‘You know me too well.’

‘Hmm.’ He smiled but her words snagged him. He really didn’t know her very well at all because she played her cards so close to her chest.

‘OK, here goes.’ She leaned forward.

He dropped the snail into her open mouth and watched.

Her jaw moved up and down and then she swallowed. ‘It’s kind of like a leathery oyster but if I had my choice I prefer the barramundi.’ She sipped her drink. ‘I’ve always enjoyed fish. Dad used to take Michael and me fishing in a tinny and we’d catch flathead.’

Flynn took the mention of her brother as an invitation to find out more. ‘Were you and you brother close?’

‘We were close in age.’ She broke open the damper, and steam rose into the night air. She sighed. ‘I didn’t see very much of him in the last couple of years after he moved to Melbourne.’

‘Work?’ Flynn ate a whelk himself, enjoying the strong flavour.

Mia busied herself with buttering the damper. ‘Michael had been struggling for a while. He took a job in Melbourne to get away, to make a complete change.’

He wondered at her hesitation in answering. Why did she find it so very hard to talk about her family? ‘Did the move help him?’

She raised her eyes to his, the moonlight reflecting her sadness. ‘His death is listed as a car accident, which it was, but he was the sole occupant of the car. It ran off a straight stretch of road at four in the morning, hitting a tree.’

Code for suicide
. As a doctor, Flynn knew that many single-vehicle accidents masked men who in the darkest hour of their depression decided to take their own lives. He put down his plate and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Hell, Mia. I’m sorry.’

She shuddered against him. ‘I should have done more, I should have gone over to visit him but I was—’ Her voice stopped abruptly.

He stroked her hair, trying to soothe. ‘You were taking care of your elderly mother.’

Her head shot up off his shoulder as if she’d been struck. She stared at him, her face pale and her expression shocked. ‘How did you know that?’

Her accusatory tone surprised him. ‘It’s not that hard to work out, Mia. You’re a nurse, a caring person, and your mum was unwell, so all the pieces of that story go together and lead to that conclusion.’ He kissed her cheek, wondering at her reaction. ‘It’s not a state secret, is it?’

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