She did.
He felt it in the way her lips softened against his, yielding to his subtle increase of pressure, opening like a flower to the first slow stroke of his tongue. He swallowed her little whimper and took the kiss deeper, tasting her moist sweetness, familiarising himself with the contours of
her mouth, cajoling her tongue into seductive play with his.
She was tentative at first, holding back as if she was frightened of letting herself get out of control. But then the fingers of her hand resting on his chest suddenly curled into his T-shirt and her mouth became an urgent force against his.
He tasted hot female desire. It caused a firestorm in his blood, making him hard, thick and hungry for the slick, wet cocoon of her body.
He flicked his tongue against hers in an age-old rhythm that made her whimper in primal response. She moved against him, seeking more of him, her hands going to his hair, her fingers splaying across his scalp and then digging in as her mouth fed greedily off his.
He had never experienced a more explosive kiss.
It made every nerve in his spine—including the damaged ones—tingle in response. His groin was on fire. He felt like a teenager at his first sexual encounter. His control was shot.
He wanted her and he wanted her now.
And given the way her mouth was nipping and sucking at him, she wanted him, too.
But reality suddenly reared its head and its hand and slapped Raoul across the face. What was he thinking? How could this go to the next step? He couldn’t even get up off the floor, let alone sweep her off her feet and into the nearest bedroom.
Besides, she was the hired help—the physical therapist who was supposed to get him back on his feet, not have him flat on his back while she rode him to Sunday and back.
His insides suddenly knotted.
Had Rafe set him up? Was Lily Archer and her holistic remedies his older brother’s idea of getting him back into the saddle?
Raoul pulled back from her mouth with a muttered curse. ‘OK, time to stop.’
She blinked at him for a moment. She looked vague, disoriented, shocked. ‘Y-yes... Yes, of course.’ She bit her lip and shifted her gaze, blinked another couple of times. Frowned. Frowned harder.
He watched as she scrambled ungainly to her feet, tucking a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear where the rest of her ponytail was confined. Her cheeks were pink, her mouth swollen, her gaze still averted. If he were to put money on it he would say she was currently feeling a little out of her depth, but he was not the gambler Remy was, and his money was staying right where he could keep an eye on it.
‘Did my brother pay you to do that?’ he asked.
Her bluer-than-blue eyes came back to his wide, startled. ‘What?’
He pinned her with a look. ‘I know how his mind works. He’s keen for me to get back to normal as soon as possible. Is that what he paid you to do? To test the equipment, so to speak?’
Her saw her slim throat move up and down over a swallow and her cheeks fired up another notch. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me.’
‘I don’t need a bloody sex therapist,’ he bit out as he hauled himself up against the massage table. ‘And I certainly don’t need a pity screw to make me feel like a man again.’
There was a ringing silence.
‘Excuse me...’
He turned his head to see her dashing out as if there was a fire in the room.
But then, in a way, there was.
His desire.
CHAPTER SIX
LILY WAS BEYOND mortified as she left the room, but angry, too. How dared he suggest she was here other than in her professional capacity? What sort of woman did he think she was? She knew the clinic had a bit of a reputation for being innovative in some of its methods but his assumption was nothing short of ridiculous! As if there was any amount of money that would induce her to sleep with anyone.
It wasn’t going to happen.