200 Harley Street. Lynne MarshallЧитать онлайн книгу.
palpable. The air was practically crackling.
Then she almost tipped him over the edge. Her tongue ran along her red lips, moistening them and making them glisten in the dim light. Her voice was hoarse. ‘Neither can I,’ she whispered, as her fingers pressed into his shoulder bones.
He didn’t think. He didn’t stop to think for a second.
This was all about instinct. And his instinct was to make her his.
He bent his head, taking her lips as his own. Claiming them in every way possible. His hands pulled her hips close against his then he lifted them and wound them through her blonde hair. So soft, so silky between his fingers.
She let out a little gasp and raised herself up on tiptoe, trying to get herself even closer to him. Her hands left his shoulders and slid around to the back of his neck, curving themselves across the expanse of his back.
There was nothing tender and gentle about this kiss. This was pure and utter unbridled lust. That scent was under his nose again, drifting through his senses. It had followed him for days, driving him slowly and utterly crazy with the thoughts it evoked in his brain.
Lexi was matching him every step of the way. He pushed her back from the pavement towards the entrance of her flat. His hands were drifting under her coat, up the sensual curves of her waist and hips, relishing the feel of the clingy jersey dress beneath his fingertips. Then his hands met her breasts, the rational part of his brain wondering if she would react to his touch but the sensual part of his brain already on a mission he had to complete. Beneath the thin material her nipples reacted in his palms, making him stifle a groan in the back of his throat.
He pressed her further against the wall, one of her legs rising up and hitching on his hip, his hardness pushing against her core. His head had fallen to her neck now, to the source of that delicious sensual scent. He could taste it under his lips as his tongue moved around the soft skin at the bottom of her neck and along her fine clavicle. Her hands were moving in one direction—with a distinct purpose—and his back arched towards her.
His fingers were following suit, pushing up her dress and edging along the inside of her thigh.
‘Iain,’ she panted.
‘What?’ He didn’t even look up, didn’t want to stop what was happening.
Her body was reacting to his every touch, completely and utterly responding to every single move he made.
A cool breeze danced across his skin where she’d opened a few buttons on his shirt and the sweep of air caused him to stiffen.
He looked up. Lexi’s gaze was fixed on his. Part of it passion, part of it confusion. He could see the wealth of emotions behind her blue eyes and it brought him crashing to earth with an almighty thump.
Lexi. It was Lexi Robbins standing in front of him now.
It was Lexi Robbins who had stoked his emotions so high he’d almost choked on them.
Blonde hair, blue eyes. Staring at him with a look of expectation, a look of reciprocation of the feelings that were bubbling inside him.
It was like a bucketful of ice chips tumbling over his body. The horrible, stomach-churning realisation that not once this evening—not once—had he given Bonnie a second thought.
He stepped backwards, trying to put some distance between him and Lexi. Distance that had already formed in his mind a mile wide.
For the last few years he’d thought about Bonnie every single day. Every single day.
Whether it was first thing in the morning when he woke up, at some quiet time snatched in the middle of the day, or late at night when he was home alone, Bonnie had appeared in his thoughts every day. Sometimes the memories were good ones, happy thoughts of places they’d been, things they’d experienced together.
Other times he was in Theatre when he relived those horrendous moments. Losing his precious wife and losing his twins in one fell swoop.
Other times he was racked with guilt, replaying conversations when he’d persuaded her to give IVF one last go. To give that particular chance of having a family that way one last try.
So many steps in his life that he wanted to rewind. Wanted to turn back the clock and do differently.
But no matter what the thoughts, no matter whether the memories were good or bad, they had been there. Every single day. Until now.
The guilt was horrendous. From the second he’d got up that morning he’d thought about Lexi, knowing that she was meeting him at Kate’s.
He’d even thought about her at some points today during surgery. Unthinkable.
The only time today he’d given Bonnie any thought had been the tiniest fleeting moment at the end of the interview when he’d walked out.
But it had vanished in a flash when he’d realised his reaction had been over the top and his priority had been to apologise to Lexi. Not to sit down for a few seconds and wonder why he was so mixed up. Wonder why he was reacting in such an irrational way.
Somewhere along the way an invisible line had been crossed without him even realising it. A line that he’d drawn in the sand years ago to protect himself from taking actions that could affect the life of another. The consequences were too big a cross to bear.
Casual relationships were fine. But Lexi was no one’s casual relationship. And he’d known that from the second he’d seen her and realised the affect she had on him.
Avoiding her had been a self-preservation technique—one he should have stuck to.
‘Iain? Iain, what’s wrong?’ Her voice was still breathy, panting, as if she was full of pent-up frustration. The last thing he needed right now. What he needed right now was space. Distance. As much as possible.
‘This was a mistake. A big mistake.’ With every word he stepped back a little further, as if it helped him say the words.
A splash of rain landed on his nose and he looked upwards at the dark sky above him. Clouds were circling above his head in more ways than one.
‘I have to go. I’m sorry, Lexi. Let’s just leave it. Just leave it alone.’
She started to shake her head. Utter confusion was painted across her face and his gut clenched at the fact he’d hurt her. It had never been his intention. Things had just got out of control.
‘But, Iain—’
He whipped away as the rain started to deluge the pavement around him, his stride lengthening with every step.
He didn’t care about the weather, he didn’t care about the rain.
He just needed to get away from her. Get away from her intoxicating scent. Even as he walked down the street he could still smell her—smell her perfume on his clothes.
He lifted his hand and something reflected under the orange streetlight. A strand of shiny blonde hair, glittering like a moonlit stream. She was everywhere.
Not just in his head.
Guilt ground away at him. He should be thinking of Bonnie and his lost children. He should be remembering the terrible impact he’d had on three lives, all because he’d persuaded his beautiful wife to give IVF one last try. She hadn’t been sure. The previous two attempts had been tougher than either of them had anticipated, and they’d almost resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn’t have a family by a natural means.
And he’d felt fine about that.
So, why, why had he pushed for one last try? Even he couldn’t fathom out the details now. The decision seemed so ridiculous, so misguided. And that had been before the eventual outcome.
Carrying two tiny white coffins next to his wife’s had been the end of Iain McKenzie.
It had been the end of the light-hearted, laughter-filled man that he’d become thanks