Do Opposites Attract? (11 page)

As her body moulded to his, Brianna was very aware of Mitch’s lean shape and strong muscles. Also of his very obvious desire for her. This was what she’d dreamt about for the last week, she acknowledged as she melted in his arms. But as the kiss grew hotter and his hands snaked underneath her clothing, he abruptly pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

‘For both our sakes, I need a shower first.’

Brianna leant in and took a deep smell of musky, travel-worn man. ‘You don’t have to on my behalf.’

Groaning he grabbed hold of her hand and started up the stairs. ‘Come and have a shower with me.’

Clothes flew around the room and it wasn’t long before they were standing under the hot, steamy spray of the shower.

‘I hope you’re not expecting foreplay,’ he said roughly as he pushed her against the shower wall.

Intoxicated by him, she laughed. ‘Nope. You’ve already told me you’re not a fan of that.’

His eyes fell to her breasts and he dipped his head. ‘Maybe with you I’ll make an exception.’

As his tongue played with her nipples, her breath came out in a lusty moan. ‘Umm, I’ll look forward to that. But not this time.’ Reaching her arms around his neck, she pulled herself up so her legs were round his hips. ‘Take me now, Mitch. I’m all yours.’

As he thrust hungrily into her, Brianna had just enough time to wonder about the truth of the words she’d spoken. Then she lost the ability for any conscious thought.

The following morning Brianna was carefully watching a pan of spitting bacon when she heard a knock on the door. She looked up at the stairs, but there was no sound from the bedroom where she’d left Mitch half an hour ago, still sound asleep. Should she answer it? Or was that too personal a thing to do for a man she didn’t really know?

There was another knock.

‘Hello, Mitch. Are you there? It’s Edna.’

Hearing the old lady’s voice through the letter box, Brianna turned the gas down low and went to open the door.

‘Oh, hello dear. Sorry, I didn’t realise Mitch had a lady friend over.’

Brianna smiled down at the visitor. She was short, only reaching her shoulders and her hair was neatly scraped into a grey bun at the back of her head. Edna’s face carried the wrinkles of old age, but the blue eyes currently scrutinising every inch of Brianna were far from dull. They were lively and, at that moment, very interested.

‘I’m afraid Mitch is asleep,’ Brianna explained cautiously, well aware the old lady was putting two and two together and making more than a casual night spent in Mitch’s bed actually justified. ‘I’m Brianna. You must be the helpful neighbour he talks about. Pleased to meet you.’ Brianna went to shake the wizened old hand.

‘Well, it’s good to see he’s finally found somebody to look after him. I keep telling him, it’s not right for a man of his age to live alone. Especially with all the travelling he does. He needs someone to come home to.’ Edna didn’t wait to be invited in. She breezed past Brianna and into the kitchen where she settled herself down on one of the chairs.

‘Oh, it’s not like that. Mitch and I, we’re just …’ Brianna trailed off, feeling silly. What exactly were they? Lovers? Maybe, but could she really call them lovers after a few rounds of passion? And anyway, she couldn’t say that to Edna. Friends? She wasn’t even sure she could call them that. ‘We’re just work colleagues,’ she finished.

‘Really? Work colleagues never made bacon and eggs for each other in my day.’ Edna twinkled back at her. ‘I’ll leave you to it, my dear. If you want some advice from me, I would snap that young man up. If I were thirty years younger, I would do it myself. Sometimes I wonder where all the time went.’ She patted Brianna on her arm. ‘He can be a bit surly at times, but deep down he’s a good man. You look after him.’

Mitch had slept like the dead, but woke with a raging hunger. He thought back to the last twenty-four hours and realised it was hardly surprising, as he hadn’t eaten. He’d meant to eat before he went to bed, but he’d been distracted by Brianna. He smiled as he remembered last night. Definitely worth missing a meal for. Lazily he stretched and, grabbing a pair of jeans, padded down the stairs to find something to eat.

Two things struck him as he walked towards the kitchen. First was the smell of bacon, which had his digestive juices churning in his stomach. Second was the sound of female voices. The first delighted him, the second didn’t.

‘There you are, Mitch. I was just saying to your young lady, she needs to look after you.’

Much as he liked Edna, at that particular moment he could happily have throttled her. He didn’t bloody well need looking after. Not by any woman, and certainly not by Brianna. He was perfectly happy with his life as it was, thank you very much.

He must have telegraphed his annoyance because Brianna glanced warily over at him. ‘Edna just came round to check you were okay,’ she told him in a tone a zookeeper might use to calm a mean-looking lion.

Mitch nodded and battled to get his temper under control. Edna had his best interests at heart. He might not always want or need her help, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t show some gratitude for what she insisted on doing. When his temper was back on its leash, he walked over to the older woman and planted a quick kiss on her lined cheek. ‘Thanks for filling the fridge, Edna. And for coming over. As you can see, I’m still in one piece.’

Edna looked him up and down. ‘Only just. You look tired and too thin.’

He laughed briefly. ‘I’m going to sleep and eat for the next week. I promise.’

‘Well then, I’ll leave you to it. It looks like you’re in good hands.’ She smiled over at Brianna.

Mitch caught the glance and sighed. God save him from meddling women. Needing some space before he spoke to Brianna, he walked Edna to the door.

Having seen out the first of the two women, Mitch turned back and wondered what he was going to do about the second. Much as he’d enjoyed Brianna last night, he wasn’t comfortable with having her in his home this morning, cooking in his kitchen. It smacked of an intimacy he had no desire for. Women didn’t sleep in his bed. They didn’t stay over. Those were his rules. Rules he seemed to have totally forgotten last night during the grip of lust.

‘You don’t want me here, do you?’ Brianna noted as she leant back against the cooker.

Wearing yesterday’s clothes, her hair gloriously tangled and her face without make-up, she shouldn’t look more desirable than she had the day before. And he shouldn’t still want her.

‘I didn’t say that,’ he replied stiffly.

‘You didn’t have to. It was clear when you came down the stairs. It was there in your eyes, in your body language.’ She turned round to turn off the gas. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m on my way out.’

Mitch cast his eyes over to the work surface where she’d found a tray and put on it two pieces of buttered bread, a glass of orange juice and a mug. She’d obviously been intending to bring him breakfast in bed. Brianna, who had probably never cooked a meal in her rich little life. He glanced from the tray to her. The way she chewed at her bottom lip and stared at him with large, mutinous eyes. Moments ago he’d felt irritated at the sight of her in his kitchen, now he was inexplicably touched.

As she turned to leave, he caught her by her shoulders. ‘Stop, please. I’m not used to having women make me breakfast, that’s all.’

‘It’s not much of a breakfast,’ she muttered, tears hovering in her eyes. ‘I’m no good at cooking. The bacon is burnt, and the coffee looks so strong I think the teaspoon is standing up in it.’

Mitch laughed, long and deep. ‘Well, I appreciate the gesture, honestly.’ God, how could any man be safe around her? She was so damned gorgeous he ached. He bent to kiss those lovely full lips. A few minutes ago he’d wanted her gone. Now he couldn’t get enough of her.

Trying to claw back his control, he slowly drew back. ‘Much as I’d love to continue this, my stomach is screaming with hunger.’

He poked at the bacon in the pan and scooped some up to put between the bread. ‘Aren’t you having any?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve had some toast.’ She watched as he took a swig of the coffee she’d made. ‘I’m impressed. You’re not pulling a face.’

‘I am inside.’ She gave him a sharp dig, enough to make him grunt.

‘So, what are you doing this weekend?’

Warily, he shrugged. ‘No real plans. Probably some windsurfing at some point.’

‘Good. You can teach me.’

‘Now wait a minute …’ He swallowed down another mouthful and stared at her. ‘That depends,’ he countered.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘On what?’

‘On whether we both know where we stand. We work together. I don’t want this getting messy. No strings, just a bit of fun.’

She smirked slightly and fished around in the pan for some bacon. ‘Umm, fun. I didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word.’

‘Maybe it’s about time I learnt.’ He abandoned his plate and reached for her. ‘Starting from now.’

With a laugh Brianna wriggled away from his grasp. ‘Much as I would love to stay, I’ve got a job to go to.’ She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. ‘Now those are words I didn’t think I’d ever utter. I’ll be here at eleven o’clock on Saturday.’

Before he had a chance to disagree she closed her lips firmly over his, giving him one final toe-curling kiss. When he was totally churned up, to the point of getting ready to drag her upstairs again, she spun out of his grasp and let herself out.

As the door closed behind her, he lifted his eyes to the ceiling and exhaled slowly. He must be going soft in the head. He didn’t do relationships. So why had he just allowed Brianna to make plans to see him at the weekend?

It could only be because he wanted to see her sexy little curves in a wetsuit.

With a resigned smile he went to clear up the mess she’d left behind her. The girl wasn’t kidding when she said she couldn’t cook. Debris from her attempt was littered all round his kitchen. Scraping the charred remains of the bacon into the bin, he reflected he was due some fun, and Brianna was certainly that. She was also so plainly out of his league, there wasn’t going to be any of the usual pressure for anything heavy.

She wanted to experience life outside her usual social circle for a change. He needed to relax and enjoy himself more. Both of them knew the score.

If anyone had said to him a month ago that he would be sitting on his balcony on a Saturday morning waiting for a classy lady to turn up in her Jaguar, he would have told them where to get off. But here he was. Even more surprising, he was looking forward to seeing her. Whether he would still be saying that by the end of the day was another matter.

Right on time, she knocked on his door. Today she was dressed in casual jeans and a leather jacket. She still exuded enough sophistication and glamour to knock him sideways.

‘Are you going to stand there all morning, or are you going to let me in?’ With a swish of her silky hair she glided past him and into the house. When she’d reached the sitting room, she turned and smiled back at him. ‘So, what are the plans?’

His mind filled with the sight of her, it took him a moment to realise she’d asked him a question. ‘Plans? I thought we were going windsurfing?’

‘Yes, we are,’ she agreed happily. ‘But we’re not going to do that all day, are we?’

Like wading through a bog, he slowly came to grips with the conversation. What on earth was she expecting? Was he supposed to have prepared an itinerary, laid on a few surprises? Is that what men did in her world? ‘Brianna, are you playing games here? What else do you expect?’

Some of the happiness left her face. ‘Well, nothing, I guess. Windsurfing is fine.’

‘But you were hoping for … what?’

She shook her head. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m happy doing whatever you want. As long as it’s with you, I don’t care.’

‘Even if it means windsurfing all day?’

Dropping her bag on the floor, she slowly walked up to him, placed her hands on his shoulders and moved in for a kiss. ‘Yes,’ she murmured softly.

As if she’d flicked on a switch, his body was instantly on fire. Within moments his hands were under her shirt, undoing her bra, teasing her breasts.

‘Bedroom?’ she asked on a breathy whisper.

He shook his head. ‘No time.’ He pushed her back on the sofa and systematically removed her clothes with barely controlled aggression. Then base instincts took over and within moments he was inside her, taking her with a ferocity that blew his mind.

Carefully he levered himself up from the sofa and thrust an unsteady hand through his now dishevelled hair. What was it about Brianna that made him unable to keep his hands off her? She’d barely been in his house a few minutes before he’d torn off her clothes. He glanced at the discarded items littering the floor. He hadn’t even let her go upstairs to the bedroom, for God’s sake. He’d acted like an animal on heat. Remembering their time in the camp, when he’d accused her of wanting to find out what it was like to make love with a bit of rough, he felt ashamed. Now she knew.

‘Sorry,’ he apologised grimly, hauling himself off the sofa.

Brianna lifted her head and raised her eyebrows. ‘Err, what for exactly?’

Simmering with embarrassment and a fair amount of self-disgust, he found his boxers and yanked them on. ‘I could at least have offered you a drink first.’

‘You could,’ she agreed slowly. ‘But I much preferred your alternative welcome.’

‘What, being jumped on before you’d even taken your jacket off?’ He’d like to bet her usual dates didn’t greet her like that.

Brianna stood up from the sofa and, clearly comfortable in her nakedness, slid her arms around his waist. ‘Absolutely. Do I look like a woman who hasn’t been totally and utterly pleasured?’

Mitch studied her face. Her eyes danced, her lips curved. She sure didn’t have the appearance of someone who’d been forced to endure something they didn’t want to do. In fact she looked happy, satisfied and downright gorgeous. ‘No, you don’t.’ He shook his head. ‘If your parents could see you now.’ With that he moved away from the circle of her arms and went to retrieve his discarded jeans.

Thoughtfully Brianna began to pull on her underwear. He was right. If her parents could see her now they probably wouldn’t be best pleased. Her mother had already warned her off Mitch and Brianna was prepared to admit she might have a point. There was a lot about the man she didn’t know. She cast him a surreptitious glance as he pulled on his shirt, the muscles of his chest rippling, the panther tattoo flashing menacingly before being hidden by the sleeve. But it was that very hint of bad boy about him that made him so irresistible.

‘Did you bring your wetsuit?’ Mitch asked as he did up the buttons on his fly.

Brianna nodded, looking around for her jeans. She spotted them thrown over the back of the leather armchair. ‘It’s in the car.’

Mitch crooked a smile, staring at her matching midnight-blue bra and pants. ‘If you go out dressed like that, Edna will have a heart attack. I’d better get it. Where are your keys?’

Several minutes and some hysterical laughter later, at least from Brianna, they headed out of Mitch’s patio doors and down to the beach. Brianna had never worn a wetsuit. She’d only bought it the day before and couldn’t believe how tightly they fitted, or how they emphasised every bump.

‘I feel positively indecent going out like this,’ she complained as they walked across the pebbles.

He gave her a dark look. ‘I can’t say it leaves much to the imagination. But it will give me something to look at while you’re falling off the board.’

She punched him heartily on the arm. ‘No way. I’m going to be good at this. Just you watch and see.’

An hour later, Brianna was eating her words, along with most of the English Channel. ‘It’s impossible,’ she spluttered, glaring at the board as she fell off yet again. ‘You windsurfers must have special shoes or something that stick you to the board.’

He flashed one of his rare smiles. ‘Staring down the board, daring it to throw you off, isn’t going to work you know.’

She tried in vain a few more times until finally he took pity on her. ‘Here, why don’t you have a rest and watch me for a bit.’

‘Nothing like showing off,’ she muttered, but gratefully plonked herself down on the beach. She wasn’t going to let him know it, but she was dying to see how good he was. If he was anything like as good to watch in the water as he was to watch out of it, she would enjoy the next hour a lot more than she had the last.

She arranged herself comfortably on the beach, propping her head up against her bag and prepared to ogle. A woman was entitled to ogle, especially if she was sleeping with the man she was ogling. Stretching out, she let out a sigh of pure female admiration. He looked heavenly in his gear, the wetsuit emphasising the breadth of his shoulders, the lean lines of his body. His trim, athletic backside. Several times this morning she’d had to ask him to repeat himself as she’d been distracted by the sexy grin, the humour-filled brown eyes. This relaxed, dryly amused Mitch McBride was very different to the austere, distant persona she’d seen at the camp. She found she liked him. A lot.

They stopped for lunch at a little kiosk on the seafront where he ordered them both hot tea and sandwiches. The day had turned out different to her expectations, which she was ashamed to admit had included only a short stint in the water followed by a very long lunch in a fancy restaurant, but as she sat next to Mitch on the beach, she couldn’t remember ever appreciating the seaside more.

‘This is nice,’ she sighed, leaning back against the stones, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.

‘What? A kiosk sandwich and a cup of stewed tea?’

She glowered at him. ‘Being by the sea, in the sun.’ She wanted to add
being with you
, but wasn’t sure how well it would be received. ‘On dry land.’

His answering laugh was a deep rumble that made her toes curl. ‘I hate to say this, princess.’ He merely grinned when she frowned at the use of the nickname. ‘But you asked me to teach you how to windsurf. I’m not stopping until I’ve done just that. Time to get up, and back onto that board.’

He stretched out a hand and pulled her up sharply, causing her to bounce into him. Instantly his mouth swooped on hers and they shared a long, deep kiss. ‘Now you’re just trying to distract me,’ he murmured as he drew back.

‘We could ditch the windsurfing and go back to yours,’ she suggested coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

‘Don’t tempt me.’ He took her firmly by the arm and led her back to the board.

By the end of the afternoon she finally had the hang of it. She wasn’t stylish, but she was actually standing upright, turning the sail and manoeuvring the board in vaguely the right direction. Her sense of accomplishment was huge and so, she thought ruefully, would be the bruises.

After arriving back at his house exhausted but content, she went up to get a hot shower. The perfect cure for a day in the cold sea. As the spray pummelled her body, she studied the bathroom for telltale signs of Mitch. His shower gel smelt of the fresh sea air and brought back memories of the first time she’d slept with him and inhaled that same smell from his skin. On the sink was a single toothbrush, reassuring her he was a man who lived by himself and didn’t often have female visitors. He must wet shave, as his shaver and foam were on the shelf by the sink. It was fascinating, these little glimpses into his life.

‘Feeling warmer?’ Mitch asked as she made her way back down the stairs.

‘Much better, now I’m not being plunged into ice cold water.’ She eyed the glowing flames from the fire he’d just made and sighed. ‘All I need now is to snuggle down in front of that fire.’

Mitch watched as she did just that, tucking her feet up under her and lying back against the soft cushions. She was certainly making herself at home and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. On the one hand it was his space, his sofa by the fire. On the other, she looked so beautiful and seemed to fit the place naturally.

Brianna caught him staring at her. ‘What’s wrong?’

Aware he’d been stuck in some sort of trance, Mitch mentally shook himself. He was too obsessed with his own independence. She was only staying the night. At least he guessed that was what she was planning and, considering the lateness of the hour, the long drive back to hers and the fact that she’d stayed over the last time, it wasn’t an unreasonable intention. Still. It left him feeling slightly on edge. A smidgen unnerved. His
no stopping over
rule tossed straight out of the window again, twice in a week. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he muttered, moving to the door. ‘I’m going to have a shower. Grab yourself a drink.’

When he came back downstairs he found her exactly where he’d left her, only this time with a glass of wine in her hand.

‘Fish and chips okay for you?’ he asked, belatedly realising he hadn’t thought this day through at all. What guy has an elegant lady staying in his house and offers her fish and chips? A total loser, that’s who. ‘Then again, maybe you don’t eat food that comes wrapped in paper?’

She flinched. ‘Of course I do.’

‘Sorry.’ He put up his hand in a gesture of peace. ‘That came out without me thinking.’ Or more accurately, it came out because he was pissed off with his own lack of sophistication.

‘Mitch, I’m a normal human being, you know.’ Her sharp glare revealed both hurt and anger. ‘Just because my parents are wealthy it doesn’t make me any different from the next person.’

‘Perhaps, in some respects,’ he agreed. ‘But your experiences are very different to mine. That can have a profound effect on your outlook, on how you think and feel.’

‘Well, right now I’m feeling like you’re having a dig at me. I can’t help being rich.’

‘No.’ He couldn’t help where he’d come from, either. But it didn’t make the two of them right together. Sighing, he picked up his car keys and turned towards the door.

They ate their fish and chips off their laps. Mitch had come back in a better mood than he’d gone out in and, between the glow from the fire, the food in their stomachs and the alcohol, the atmosphere was cosy and relaxed. It still rankled with Brianna that he couldn’t seem to see her simply as a woman, rather than a rich woman, but she had to let that go. In time he would grow to see her differently. If he’d let them have that time.

‘Mitch, why did you join Medic SOS?’ Brianna asked as she put down her empty plate. ‘You said you worked in the army, and then A & E in a civilian hospital. So why change?’

He took a drink of his beer and settled back into the fireside chair. ‘I was bored. It might sound stupid but I missed the challenge of working in difficult conditions. Medic SOS gave me back that challenge, plus the knowledge I was helping real suffering, in areas that badly needed that help.’

Brianna nodded. She could see what he meant, but it still seemed like a tough career choice. ‘Joining the army is an unusual move for a graduate doctor, isn’t it? Why that rather than a traditional hospital?’

‘Why not?’

Exasperated, Brianna poured herself some more wine. ‘Come on, that’s no answer. I’m interested, that’s all. Why is asking you any questions about your private life like pulling teeth? You know it’s because you’re so evasive that I think you’re hiding exciting secrets. If you were more open I wouldn’t probe so much.’

‘Is that a promise?’

She eyed him through her lashes. ‘Yes, so spill the details, doctor.’

He put his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay. I joined the army because it sounded exciting and because I didn’t have any family or a base that tied me to any particular place.’

Now she was getting somewhere. ‘So your parents had died by this time?’

‘I never knew my father, but yes, my mother had died.’

‘When?’

‘Several years before, when I was fourteen.’

‘Oh, Mitch, you poor thing. I am sorry.’

‘I wasn’t.’

His blunt statement shocked her. As did the way his face suddenly turned as harsh as his voice. ‘What did she die of?’

For a fraction of a second his hand clenched on his glass. Then he carefully schooled his features back into a blank mask. ‘It’s not important.’

His reaction said otherwise, but she’d learnt enough about the man to know he wasn’t going to be pushed anywhere he didn’t want to go, so she changed tactics. ‘Who looked after you when your mother died? Did you have a stepfather?’