Hot Docs On Call: Healing His Heart. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Either Quinn had died and gone to heaven or her exhaustion had conjured up this mega-erotic fantasy because it couldn’t possibly be happening. It was beyond comprehension that she was actually making out with her foster son’s surgeon in her own house.
The tug at her scalp reminded her it was very real.
Matt took her gasp as an invitation to plunge his tongue deeper into her mouth, stealing what was left of her breath. He was so thorough in his exploration, yet so tender, he confused her senses until she couldn’t think beyond his next touch.
His fingers wrapped around her hair, his mouth locked onto hers, his hard body pressed tightly against her—it was too much for her long-neglected libido to process at once. It was as though every one of her forgotten desires had come to life at once, erasing the loneliness of these past man-free months.
Her ex’s betrayal had devastated her so much she’d convinced herself romance in her life didn’t matter but Matt McGrory had obliterated that theory with one kiss. It most certainly did matter when it reminded her she was a hot-blooded woman beneath the layers of foster mum guilt. She’d forgotten how it was to have someone kiss the sensitive skin at her neck and send shock waves of pleasure spiralling through her belly and beyond. In fact, she didn’t remember ever swooning the way she was right now.
Today, Matt had successfully operated on Simon, talked sense into her when she’d been virtually hysterical, held her when she’d cried, supported her when she’d fallen apart and carried a sleeping child to his bed. He was perfect. It was a crying shame the timing was abominable.
He slid a hand under her shirt and her nipples immediately tightened in anticipation of his touch. If he ventured any further than her back she doubted she’d be able to think clearly enough to put a stop to this. As enjoyable as the feel of his lips on her fevered skin was, this wasn’t about her getting her groove back on. Simon was her priority and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that.
Matt was his surgeon and this could lead to all sorts of complications regarding his treatment and the fostering authorities. That wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. She wanted to break the cycle of selfish behaviour which had plagued her and Simon to date, and if it kept her heart protected a while longer, all the better.
‘I think we should probably call it a day.’ She dug deep to find the strength to end the best night she’d had for a long time.
With her hands creating a barrier between their warm bodies, she gave him a feeble push. Her heart wasn’t in the rejection but it did stop him in his tracks before he kissed his way to her earlobe and discovered her kill switch. His acquiescence did nothing to ease her conscience or the throbbing need pulsating in her veins.
‘You’re probably right.’ He took a step back, giving them some space to think about the disaster they’d narrowly averted. Then he was gone.
One nod of the head, a meek half-smile and it was Goodnight, Josephine.
Quinn exhaled a shaky breath as the front door clicked shut.
It had been a close call and, now she knew the number, it was going to be a test of endurance not to put him on speed dial.
IT HAD BEEN several days since the infamous kiss but Quinn hadn’t laid eyes on Matt at all. Quite a feat when she’d spent every waking moment back at the hospital. She thought he’d be there when Simon had his dressings changed, an ordeal in itself. Although it was the nurses who routinely did that job, he usually called in to see how they were. He was definitely avoiding her.
Whilst his noticeable absence had prevented any awkwardness between them after locking lips together, a sense of loss seemed to have engulfed her and Simon as a result. They’d become much too invested in his company and now she had very fond, intimate memories to make her pine for him too.
It had been her decision to stop things before they’d gone any further. Hot kisses and steamy intervals didn’t bring any comfort when there was no commitment behind them. Passion didn’t mean much to her these days when she’d found out the hard way men used it to hide their true intentions. She’d thought Darryl had loved her because he was so attentive in that department but when it came down to putting a child’s needs before his he’d shown how shallow he really was. She wouldn’t be duped for a second time into believing a man’s interest in her body was anything more than just that. Darryl had nearly broken her spirit altogether with his betrayal, to the point she’d questioned her own judgement about foster care. What was the point if the whole ideal of a happy family was a sham concocted so the male species could satisfy their own selfish needs?
It was meeting Simon which had convinced her she’d taken the right path and she wouldn’t be so easily diverted from it again. A handsome face and a kissable mouth weren’t enough for her to risk her or Simon’s future if she was dumped again and sent spiralling back down into despair. Things were difficult at the moment but she was still soldiering on, wasn’t ready to give up the fight. One more knock to her confidence might well change that. No, she’d made the right call and she’d just have to learn to live with it. Regardless of how much she wanted Matt to be the man she’d always thought would be the head of her perfect little family.
Today, to distract herself from the events of that evening, she’d joined the committee fighting to save the Castle. Whilst Simon was busy with his physiotherapist, who was working with him to make sure he maintained the movement in his right arm, she had some time to herself. She chose to spend it putting the world to rights with other committee members over a latte in the canteen. Her position also allowed her to keep watch on the door in case of a glimpse of the elusive Mr McGrory.
‘I’m so glad you’ve joined us, Quinn. It’ll really help our cause to have parents of our patients on board, as well as the staff. This is about the children, and showing the board the Castle is an important part of the community, and is more than just a lucrative piece of land.’ Victoria Christie sat forward in her chair, fixing Quinn with her intense hazel eyes. She was a paramedic, the head of the committee and apparently very passionate about the cause.
With her buoyant enthusiasm she was the perfect choice for a front woman and Quinn got the impression she would attach herself to the wrecking ball should the dreaded demolition come to fruition.
‘I’m only too happy to help. I’ll sign a petition, wave a placard, write a personal impact statement…whatever it takes to make a difference. Matt…er… Mr McGrory suggested I join since I spend most of my days here anyway.’ Mostly, she suspected, to get her out of his lovely blond hair, but at least it was a more productive way of filling her time than fretting and crying on shoulders of very busy surgeons.
‘Matt’s very passionate about his work and his patients. He’s one of the good guys.’ The tall blonde she’d been introduced to at the start of this meeting was Robyn Kelly, head of surgery at the hospital and the committee’s PR person.
Quinn shifted her gaze towards the pile of papers on the table outlining their press coverage so far in case her blush gave away her thoughts about that very personal, private moment she’d spent with her colleague at her house.
‘He’s been very patient with Simon, and me, but we’re well on the way to recovery. I hope future patients are as lucky to have him on their side.’ She smiled as brightly as her pained cheeks would allow. In truth, she didn’t want anyone to get as close as she had been to him but that didn’t mean she’d deny another family his expertise.
‘That’s a really good idea!’ Victoria slammed her cup back down on the table, sloshing the contents into the saucer.
‘What is?’ With one hand Robyn quickly moved the newspaper cuttings out of the path of the tea puddle slowly spreading across the table, and used the other to soak up the mess with a napkin.
She exuded a self-confidence