Explosive - Page 7

“No, that’s all right. I’ll try to catch him another time.”

“I was so sorry to hear about your brother and your nephew.”

The words spilled out of her throat in a rush of compassion. She hoped she hadn’t offended him when he merely resumed picking up her papers and journals. Sophie knew it was best to follow a grieving person’s lead in these situations, so she busied herself with helping him retrieve the fallen items. She shouldn’t have spoken to him in such a familiar fashion.

“Sorry about all this,” she said, nodding to the papers. “I’m flustered . . . trying to get out of this place and wondering if it’s even possible.”

She reached to take the papers and journals that he held, but Thomas didn’t release them.

She glanced up at him to see that he studied her. If there was one thing about Nicasio, he really made a woman feel like he wasn’t just looking, but saw. That’s how he always had managed to make her feel, anyway.

“Your mind isn’t the only thing that has ten million things stuffed in it.” He nodded at her briefcase. “You’re busting at the seams, Dr. Gable.”

Dr. Gable. Several months ago, the Doctor had become Dr. Gable. Since she’d never formally introduced herself, Sophie found herself wondering how he’d discovered her name. She liked to think he’d asked someone, even though it was more likely he’d seen her name on the front door of the medical offices and figured out which doctor she was by a process of elimination. She was the only female in the group practice.

She gave a shrug, her flickering gaze taking in his slightly amused expression. It struck her suddenly how intimate their postures were, kneeling on the floor there together, her face only inches apart from a casual acquaintance who she felt an almost overwhelming need to embrace . . . to comfort.

She relinquished the papers into his hold and rose to her feet. For a few seconds, he remained kneeling, his face near her thighs. She stepped back and brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt, trying to smooth not only the fabric, but her ruffled nerves.

“I’m about to go on vacation at Haven Lake, downstate. It’s a pain, tying up so many loose ends,” she explained with a smile, trying to lighten the tension-filled moment.

His eyebrows rose on his forehead. He stood slowly, uncoiling his long body. He’d removed his jacket and tie and wore dark blue pants that rode low on his narrow hips. A navy and white striped dress shirt set off his golden brown tan. Sophie’d often speculated how he’d acquired that tan. Did he spend his weekends playing tennis at a club? Boating? Swimming?

Something in the long, lean lines of his torso and powerful shoulders and chest seemed to argue for the latter. Somehow, she could perfectly imagine Thomas Nicasio knifing through the water, mastering that domain just like he appeared to so effortlessly master the rest of his world.

“Surely that’s not a good explanation for the state of your briefcase. You’re supposed to leave work behind when you go on a vacation, aren’t you? Not that I’d know that from personal experience or anything.” The twitch of his lips struck her as a little sad, as though he wanted to grin but some unseen weight prevented it.

“I’m fortunate enough to be able to take off a month every summer, but there’s a price to pay. It’s when I do all my writing.” She hitched her stuffed briefcase for emphasis. “I plan to write three, maybe four medical articles while I’m relaxing.”

This time, the smile did find expression on his lips, but Sophie noticed it never reached his eyes. He cast an anxious glance toward the corridor—in the direction of Andy’s office.

“That’s what you plan,” he murmured when his gaze returned to her face. “But will you actually get around to work once the vacation atmosphere sets in?”

Sophie froze for a moment when he stepped closer.

“Well, I’m a bit of a procrastinator. But I’ll get to it. Eventually, anyway, when I see the end of my vacation start to loom on the calendar.”

Her reply sounded a bit breathless as she watched him slide the journal and loose papers into her briefcase, careful not to crinkle anything. He glanced down at her face with a hooded stare. The look in his eyes had made the breath freeze in her lungs. For a few seconds, Sophie thought the moment had come.

Thomas Nicasio was finally going to cross the invisible boundary that kept them existing in separate worlds.

But then he looked away and briskly pulled the zipper, closing her briefcase.

“Life’s short, Dr. Gable,” he said gruffly. “I’m finding that out firsthand. You never know when fate might step in and make it even shorter. I hate to think of you wasting your vacation hunched over a computer screen. It just doesn’t seem right, somehow. Not for you.”

She held her breath in her lungs when he gently smoothed back a strand of hair that had fallen on her cheek.

He stepped away.

As Sophie lay there a little over twenty-four hours later while Thomas Nicasio slept a few dozen feet away from her, the memory made her heart squeeze tight in her chest.

For the hundredth time, she replayed his embrace in her mind, recalled in graphic detail the sensation of his hard, hot body pressed so intimately next to her own, the way he’d fit against her so well. Her nipples tightened against her T-shirt.

Sleep with me, Sophie. I need your cleanness so much right now.

She groaned softly and turned onto her side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to alleviate the ache at her core that would not dissipate, no matter how much she tried to distract herself. She prayed for sleep, for the oblivion of unconsciousness that would stifle the fire in her flesh, but her prayers went unanswered. Thoughts of Thomas swelled in her awareness until her body heat escalated to a low boil.

One hour passed—two, then three. Every nerve in her body seemed to be buzzing with electricity, making sleep seem a ludicrous proposition. Her entire awareness stretched down the hallway to the room where Thomas slept.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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