Flirting with the Society Doctor / When One Night Isn't Enough (12 page)

Always she’d been aware of wanting him, of how desirable he was, of how he made her so aware he was a man and she was a woman. Looking back, she had to wonder about Vale.

Had the chemistry between them been building from the moment they’d met? Had he felt it all along too? Or had it truly just been that they had been thrown together
by circumstances this weekend and otherwise what they’d shared would never have happened? That he never would have seen her as anything more than a surgeon in his employ?

“Faith?” he whispered next to her ear, startling her back to reality. “Hmm?”

“Let’s forget about what happened.” Any hope that what they’d shared had been special to him died.

“Okay.” What else could she say? No, I don’t want to forget what we just shared because it was amazing and I want to experience it again? True, but not appropriate when he was obviously not feeling the same and trying to back out of the corner he’d landed in. “We’ll forget what happened.”

But she knew she would never forget Vale making love to her. Not ever. Not even when she’d pray to forget in the hope of finding inner peace.

“What I mean …” his hands moved over her back, settling on her shoulders “… is that I want us to have fun tonight, to enjoy each other’s company and not focus on what we did.”

“Fun. Right.”

He tilted her chin. “Are you saying I’m no fun?”

She stared into his blue eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe they did need to forget about what they’d done, even if only for a short while.

“Who, you? The original Mr. Workaholic?” she attempted to tease, but knew her eyes were filled with longing, confusion.

“Hey.” He pulled her close, and instantly she was taken back to what they were supposed to be forgetting, “I’ve barely cracked a patient profile all weekend.”

“True, but you’ve been busy.”

“Spending time with you this weekend has been immensely enjoyable.”

His body pressed so tightly against hers was immensely enjoyable, too. She couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I concede your point.”

The music changed to another slow song and Vale kissed the top of her head, weakening her knees. “Before the night is over, you’ll be conceding much more, Faith, because I’m going to make love to you again.”

Hadn’t they just said they were going to forget what they’d done? Knees knocking, she met his gaze, saw the desire that still burned there, and understood fully what he’d meant. He didn’t want the fear of what they’d done and how it would color the future affecting the rest of their weekend together. Their wonderful, magical weekend where they would have fun and enjoy each moment as a man and woman who wanted each other and were free to explore that desire.

And although it went against logic, against what was deeply ingrained in her psyche, Faith’s smile widened and she relaxed in his arms with the knowledge that somehow everything really would be okay. She leaned her head against his shoulder, joyful at the feel of his lips at her temple, and let her imagination run wild with thoughts of acceding to Vale’s every sexual whim.

Senator Evans’s son couldn’t be more than seven or eight, but the kid had more energy than a power plant. Unfortunately that worked to his disadvantage when he raced around the reception tent and knocked over a large vase filled with flowers, causing him to let out a bloodcurdling scream as the arrangement tumbled down on him.

At the commotion, Vale stopped in mid-sentence in his
conversation with the lead singer of an up-and-coming rock band he’d been talking to and rushed to where the boy cried.

Faith beat him to it, though, and was gently examining the little boy she’d knelt next to. “Hi, sweetie, my name is Faith. I’m a doctor and saw that vase attack your head.”

The boy just kept his hands over a spot on his head and continued to cry.

“Can I see where the vase hit?” she asked, gently pulling his hands away so she could see.

Vale knelt next to her, ordered a waiter to bring them some ice and to find Senator Evans and his wife.

“Amazingly, there isn’t a cut,” Faith voiced Vale’s thoughts and held her fingers up in front of the boy’s face. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

The boy, whose sobs had begun to abate to just streams of tears running down his smudged face, stared at Faith’s fingers and said pitifully, “Two.”

“Very good,” she praised, giving him a gentle hug. “Can you follow my fingers with your eyes without moving your head?”

The boy nodded and did as she asked as she checked his visual tracking. Vale pulled out his keychain, which had a tiny flashlight on it, and handed it to her so she could check the boy’s pupil reflexes.

She did so, smiling and continuing to praise him in a voice that Vale found mesmerizing.

Watching Faith interact with the boy, give him praise and a quick hug, made him want to praise her, hug her. Made him think she’d be a good mother.

She would. Faith put her whole heart into anything she did. The thought of her body round with child, of her giving birth, of seeing her holding a baby, hit him.

He blinked, wondering what was wrong with him,
wondering where his crazy thoughts had come from. He didn’t want Faith pregnant.
She’d leave him.
Not him.

She’d leave the clinic, at least for a while, would devote herself to her child, to her child’s father.

Which had his throat tightening.

Was it because he knew he was her one and only lover that he felt so possessive? That he didn’t like the thought of another man touching her? Impregnating her? That he thought of her as
his?

She’d been a virgin. A
virgin.
Because she believed no man would stick around for her. And she’d let him be her first, him, a man who never stuck around and had no intention of ever doing so. She deserved better.

Which made the grip on his throat tighten even more.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t have thoughts like this. Ever. He shook his head to clear his mind.

“Vale?”

His vision cleared, focused on where Faith stared strangely at him, the young boy now hugged up against her.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” he assured, although he wasn’t sure of any such thing.

“Here’s your light. Thanks.” She held the keychain out to him, her fingers brushing his, and desire shot through him again. “Billy doesn’t appear to have a concussion. Thank goodness.”

Vale looked into her beautiful face, into her eyes, and another wave of possessiveness hit him. A wave of protectiveness.

A wave of something he couldn’t recall ever having felt before and honestly couldn’t say he liked feeling now.

Panic clawed at him, made him want to high-tail it back
to New York, back to his comfortable relationship with Faith. But memories of her saying that leaving was what men did, of the hurt in her eyes when she’d commented on her father, had him standing his ground. So he smiled at the vulnerable woman responsible for the odd feelings in his chest and reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips.

“You’re an amazing woman. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Her brows drew together in confusion, but then a smile spread across her lovely face and he was glad he’d resisted the urge to run, because for the rest of the weekend he was going to indulge in heaven.

“Me, too.”

Had Sharon’s bouquet toss been rigged? When Vale’s cousin had turned, winked at Faith, she’d suspected, had tried to step back, not wanting to catch the flowers. But the throng of women had pushed her forward, preventing her escape. The bouquet practically jumped into her hands, making her wonder if Steve had been teaching Sharon passing secrets. Instinctively Faith had closed her fingers around the flowers.

If for the right reasons, none of which involved marriage, though, she could be very happy with Vale. At least tucked away in this magical world of Cape May where he only had eyes for her, she believed she could. In the real world, he’d eventually move on to greener pastures and break her heart. But during their fantasy weekend she could forget the real world existed and pretend she could have a happily-ever-after of her own.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, leaning in to where she sat at one of the decorated tables, sipping a glass of water. She’d had all the champagne she could handle earlier
—a mere two sips. Three and she might be dragging Vale beneath a table.

“That I didn’t want to catch this.” She gestured to the flowers on the table. “Sharon purposely tossed me the bouquet.”

“You think?” He was grinning still, which eased the tension ebbing through her. He didn’t believe she was trying to push him into anything. Good, because she wasn’t.

“Okay, so the wink gave her away,” Faith admitted.

He took her hand in his and studied their clasped fingers. “My family likes you.”

“What’s not to like?” She mimicked words she’d heard him say on numerous occasions.

His gaze lifting to hers, Vale laughed. “Have phenomenal sex with a woman and it goes to her head each and every time.”

“Really?” she asked, searching his eyes for a hint at how he felt. How he really felt about what had happened beyond the
phenomenal sex.
“You’ve had this happen before?”

His expression grew serious. “Nothing like you has ever happened to me.”

“Because you’d never been with a virgin before?” Why was she pushing? Did she really even want to know the answer?

“I don’t know.”

What else would there be different about her compared to every other woman he’d known? Other than a brain? Vale was brilliant, gorgeous, successful, and as rich as sin. He had his pick of women and, despite whatever had happened in his past, he was never in short supply.

Except as wedding dates. For that he’d chosen someone who knew him well enough to know he had no desire to settle down, someone he himself had said wasn’t a real date.

“If not that, then what?” she asked, unable not to push, unable not to try to glean better insight as to how he felt about what she’d classify as the most earth-shattering experience of her life.

“The not being able to stop even when my brain told me to,” he clarified. “I only hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”

“You didn’t.” At his raised eyebrow, she relented. “Okay, you hurt at first, but only for a few seconds, Vale. Then it was wonderful. Perfect.”

He shook his head. “Not perfect. You’re first time shouldn’t have been against a wall with our clothes still on.”

Puh-leeze. She couldn’t imagine a more perfect experience. He’d been consumed with wanting her. “I’m not complaining.”

His gaze swept over her, caressing each feature. “You should be.”

She drank in the warmth of his expression, the desire in his eyes, and realized she wielded a feminine power previously unrecognized. “If I was complaining?”

His gaze darkened and he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I’d have to do my best to make amends for my lack of finesse as your first lover.”

“Do your best?” Excited shivers shot through her body, congregating at the juncture of her thighs. “As in?”

“Take you to my bed and show you just how good sex can be.”

“It gets better than this afternoon?” She found that difficult to believe. He’d been amazing. More than amazing. His gaze not leaving hers, he nodded. “Much better.” “Vale,” she began in her most serious voice. “Hmm?” he played along, his fingers tracing over
her bare arm, leaving a path of goose-bumps dotting her skin.

“About this afternoon.” She brushed her foot against his calf, dipping her toes under his pants cuff. “I have a complaint …”

His eyes not leaving hers, he stood, lifting her to her feet along with him as if she weighed nothing. “Let’s go.”

She glanced around at the reception still in full swing, despite the bride and groom having left earlier for a surprise destination. “Don’t we need to say good night or something?”

“Good night or something,” Vale mocked, clasping her hand tighter. He walked up the steps that led to the patio and pool, not stopping until they were in the house, up the stairs, and in his room.

“N
OW
, tell me about that complaint.” Vale shut his bedroom door, locked it, and turned to the woman who was driving him crazy.

Crazy with lust.

He wanted her again.

As much as he had this evening.

As if he hadn’t already had her rough and ready against his bedroom wall. Just the memory had him groaning with desire, groaning with need to plunge inside her again, over and over as deep as he’d go until he spilt himself deep in her belly.

That thought had him pulling his wallet from his tuxedo jacket, removing a foil packet and tossing it onto the nightstand. There was a box in his shaving kit but that would require a trip into the bathroom. A trip he’d make later because once more wasn’t going to be enough.

He hadn’t stopped wanting Faith. Another first for him. Never had he not been satiated with sex. Never had he been left wanting round two before they’d even made it out of the bedroom after round one. If not for his love for his cousin, he’d never have left his suite. Not for the rest of the weekend.

He wanted round two with Faith
now.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose control again. No, he
wouldn’t. He refused to hurt her again. He’d make love to her, gently, relishing her body and teasing her senses to highs so grand she’d think she’d left earth.

“Vale?” She took a step backward, but her eyes danced with mischief, danced with excitement at their flirtatious play. “You’re making me nervous.”

He took a menacing step toward her. “You’ll like it better.”

“Promise?” A smile curved her full lips, lit her eyes, sucker-punched him in the gut.

How was it possible to want her so much?

“Oh, yes.” He advanced on her, closing the gap she’d created between them. “I promise you’ll like what I’m going to do to you. You’re going to like it a lot and beg for more.”

Vale set about making his point, proving that he was a man of his word.

By her whimpers of pleasure he would say he was right. Faith enjoyed every single touch, kiss, lick, suck, thrust.