In Too Deep (26 page)

Wow.

‘When you say he’s a player … could that include sending anonymous sex notes and emails, perhaps? Explicit challenges, that sort of thing?’

‘Oh, definitely. I’d say that was right up his street. He’s a very sexy man, but also subtle and mischievous. Why, has he sent you some?’

In carefully edited terms I describe some of the Nemesis communications and she laughs delightedly.

‘Oh, how delicious! That sounds like glorious fun. But it’s very naughty of him not to own up. I think you’re going to have to take him to task for that when he’s better, don’t you? Turn the tables on him. Men like that now and again. Even the most macho and alpha males like a woman to be the strong one for a change.’

How would that be, I wonder? Annie puts some soft jazz on the in-car mp3 player and we fall into a companionable silence for a while. I give the idea of taking Daniel to task some thought. Some serious thought.

I don’t feel like taking him to task when I finally see him, though.

It’s evening by the time we pitch up at the clinic, which is private, dazzlingly clean and a haven of quiet and almost hotel-like luxury. Not quite like the Waverley, of course, but still pretty swish.

As Daniel’s doing so well, he’s already back in his private room, although under careful monitoring. When I’m allowed
in
to see him, after first sitting in on Annie’s reassuring chat with the senior nurse, and then a quick once-over with the hand sanitiser, I find him lying on his side in a big white bed, looking like a wounded war hero. The light is subdued and there’s a television on low playing one of my favourite cop shows, but Daniel seems to be asleep, his eyes closed. He has the fixings for an IV still taped to his arm but other than that I see no worrying tubes or wires.

In the muted flickering light from the box, his complexion appears a bit pale and ethereal. He’s wearing a soft white stockinette skullcap, to secure his dressing, I suppose, and I feel a moment’s pang for the loss of his beautiful black curls. His face looks a bit odd and drawn, with purple shadows under his eyes, but otherwise he’s still the handsome sexy man I fell in love with. The pallor of his skin and the whiteness of the cap somehow make his thick, sooty eyelashes look even longer than ever, and they lie like luscious black arcs on his pale cheeks. The room is warm, and his chest is bare above the bedclothes that cover his lower body.

I tiptoe to the side of the bed, not wanting to wake him.

‘You’re a very wicked and disobedient girl, you know. I wish I had the energy to spank you for defying me.’

I flinch in surprise. I’m sure he never opened his eyes. His familiar voice sounds husky and a bit reedy, but still full of fun. In spite of what he says, I can tell he’s happy that I’m here. And I know it even more when he opens his eyes, and there’s joy in their brown depths, clear and unclouded.

‘You know me … I never can do what I’m told.’

I want to smile and smile because I’m so happy to see him, and I just know that he’s going to be well. Tentatively I reach for his hand, but he anticipates me, grabbing mine. His fingers are hot and his grip reassuringly strong.

He smiles too, and it lights his face, making him look less
knocked
about, more normal. More deliciously and intoxicatingly handsome, despite his little white hat and the absence of his curls.

‘What do you think of the new headgear? Sexy, isn’t it?’ He waggles his black eyebrows. ‘And I’m afraid my flowing locks have gone too. I decided that all off was more butch than just half and half.’

‘I bet you look very macho. A veritable SAS hard case. I’m sure you’ll be ready to go out subduing insurgents or something in a day or two. Or mugging someone.’

‘I couldn’t mug rice pudding, the way I feel at the moment.’

‘You’ll soon feel better. The nurse says you’re doing great and you’ll soon be out of here.’

I still can’t stop smiling and looking at him and drinking him in. And loving him. I don’t know what the future holds, and whether I’ll be in it for him. But he’s survived, he’s going to be OK, and that was what I begged for.

His fingers tighten around mine, strong and vital despite his ordeal.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he says simply. ‘Forget what I said. Forget my stupid ideas about dealing with this on my own and not wanting you to see me weak.’ He lifts my hand to his lips, and brushes them briefly against it. There’s not a great deal of force in the action, but I can sense his heart in it. ‘I feel as weak as the proverbial kitten, but I’ve still never been happier to see anyone in my life before.’

I’m dumbstruck. Lost for words. Not so much from what he’s said, but from the look in his eyes, where his feelings now shine through with a clarity I’ve never seen before, even though I would imagine I’m probably still a bit of a blur to him.

He
does
care. He cares for
me
. He maybe even loves me.

I give him a befuddled smile and place my hand over his hand that’s over mine. I want to hold him, hug him, embrace him, but, just for the moment, and temporarily, he’s fragile and I can’t be manhandling him. But that will pass, and when he’s well I’ll give my all to him and more, in any way he wants.

‘Your cousin’s here. She gave me a lift down. Do you want to see her too?’

‘Yes, I want to thank her for bringing you to me. And when I’ve had a chat with her, I want you back in here again, pronto.’

He’s getting stronger now, sounding cockier. My sexy confident Daniel is fast returning.

‘But they said we could each only have ten minutes, and that was all for the night.’

‘Fuck ’em,’ he announces cheerfully, rubbing his thumb against my palm in a decidedly rude and lascivious way, not at all what you might expect from a patient recovering from a brain operation. ‘I’m paying a fortune for this room. The least they can do is indulge my whims a bit.’

Desire stirs low in my belly, even though I’m appalled at myself for getting horny in a situation like this. He could have died, and here I am entertaining lewd fantasies about lifting the sheet and climbing on top of him right here in his room. Oh dear, I am turning into such a nympho.

Daniel’s brown eyes twinkle. They’re bright and clear and I can almost read his thoughts. And I’m certain that he’s just read mine.

He winks. ‘Yeah, I know. I’ve always had kinky fantasies about sex in a hospital bed too, but, alas, I’m too closely monitored, having had the old skull drilled into.’ He shrugs, strokes my hand again. ‘And I’m not sure I’m up to it, even if they didn’t keep checking up on me what seems like every five minutes. The spirit is willing, and certain bits of the flesh are
showing
interest.’ He flicks his gaze down to his groin. There’s not much to see beneath the hospital bedding, but my imagination supplies a delicious picture of his magnificent sleeping penis beginning to rouse itself. ‘But the rest of me feels as if it’s been run over by a steamroller, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint my beloved Queen of the Library with a less than stellar performance.’

‘I can wait. I’ve got self-control … sort of.’ And I can play with myself tonight, in the privacy of my hotel room, anticipating the happy day when Daniel’s back on form again.

‘I don’t doubt that you have, Miss Price,’ he says archly, letting our linked hands drop on to the bedspread. I can see he’s exhausted, but he still looks uncannily well and alert, given his post-operative condition. It’s as if a great burden has been lifted off him and he has everything to look forward to. ‘But what are the odds that you’ll weaken when you’re on your own again? I know what a deliciously sensual woman you are, Gwendolynne. You won’t let the small matter of the lack of a man stop you doing what has to be done.’ His head sinks against the pillow, but he still has the energy to wink and grin.

‘I don’t know what you mean, Professor Brewster,’ I say primly, then narrow my eyes accusingly at him. ‘And you do realise that “Queen of the Library” is Nemesis’s name for me, don’t you? What conclusions am I expected to draw from that little slip?’

He gives a weary little chuckle. ‘Conclude what you will, my dear,’ he says softly. ‘But making assumptions and jumping to conclusions are very rash activities. They can get you into a lot of trouble. Trouble I might have to attend to, as soon as I’m back to full fitness again.’

Excitement flutters in my belly. I imagine him restored, fit, powerful, smacking my bottom the way he did back at the
Waverley
. My sex aches and yearns for his hand, his strength, his cock, and I know that his threat about the spanking, when I first came, wasn’t an empty one.

‘I’ll look forward to that …’ I’m breathless, and all he’s done is make a suggestion. A promise. I’ll be a melting jelly of lust by the time he’s back in business.

‘And what about tonight? Are you looking forward to tonight?’ He’s still holding my hand, and he turns it over, then plays around in my palm again, doing that suggestive thing with his fingertip. ‘Alone in your hotel room … I do hope you’re staying in town?’ For a moment, he looks a little bit lost, as if the idea of me leaving hurts him. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Yes, Annie’s husband made the arrangements. Got one of his hotel contacts to give us really, really nice rooms at a moment’s notice.’

‘Good,’ says Daniel, perking up again, ‘because I’m going to imagine you in your really, really nice room tonight. I’m going to picture you naked and magnificent, sprawled on your bed, masturbating and fantasising about what I’m going to do to you when the doc gives me the all-clear.’

I’m speechless, I want him so much. This is crazy. He’s an invalid in a hospital sickbed and he can still turn me on more than any man ever in my life.

His beautiful lashes droop. I can tell he’s tired, despite his puckish naughtiness and that sly, subversive little smile of his.

‘I’m not joking, you know,’ he purrs, his voice low. ‘I’ll expect you to play with yourself tonight, in my honour.’ He runs his pink tongue over his lips. ‘And when you’ve done, I think you’d better write it all down, and send it to our friend Nemesis, for when he next gets a chance to check his email.’

I want to play with myself now. I want to do lewd and rude
things
, to cheer up my wounded hero and make him feel better soon. I want to satisfy the delicious lust he inspires in me, again and again and again.

‘But I don’t have my laptop with me.’

Daniel’s eyes are closed now, but my hand is on my thigh, fingers splayed as it inches towards my groin. It creeps closer and ever closer.

‘Well, you’ll have to go old school then, pen and paper. That’s how he started.’

Visions of hot words dancing on blue paper almost make me moan aloud, but then a sharp knock at the door sends me jumping inches into the air, and Daniel’s eyes fly open and he laughs, taking in everything.

Daniel’s nurse pops her head around the door.

‘Time up, I’m afraid, Ms Price,’ she says cheerfully. ‘I’ll let Mrs Guidetti in for a few minutes, and then it’s time for sleep for you, young man.’ She’s very middle-aged, very British, very brisk. She probably has a heart of gold, but I don’t expect she’ll take any nonsense from her patients, no matter how persuasive or gorgeous they are.

Daniel kisses my fingers, then, with astonishing, almost feverish strength, hauls me towards him and reaches up to bring my lips down to his. His mouth is hot as it makes contact with mine, and his tongue presses for entry, probing and sensuous, despite the presence of our audience. We’re probably really, really not supposed to kiss like this, for infection-control reasons and all that, but for a few seconds he totally dominates me from his bed, tasting and teasing.

‘Professor Brewster! Really! That’s enough of that,’ admonishes the nurse. Her outraged words break the spell, and we part. With extreme reluctance.

A moment later, I’m at the door, looking back. Daniel seems drained by our fierce kiss, but his eyes are lambent, crystal
sharp
, exquisitely dominant. ‘See you later, library girl,’ he murmurs, ‘and don’t forget that letter.’

‘See you later, Professor Hottie.’

He laughs quietly as I scuttle from the room, close to tears, longing to stay.

Forever.

A little later, after some time spent in the visitors’ lounge thinking, thinking, thinking and getting progressively more hot under the collar, I’m allowed back in to see Daniel again. For two minutes only, and strictly no more than that, because they have nurse things to do before he goes to sleep.

This time we’re not left unattended, presumably in case Daniel might get randy again.

He’s still awake, but I guess he’s in need of his rest now. The nurse told us that the process of healing drains the body’s energy as much as taking exercise. Despite that, there’s a wicked glint in his eyes still as he turns to greet my arrival.

‘I told them I wouldn’t go to sleep until I’d seen you again,’ he murmurs, his voice all soft and affectionate around the edges.

‘I should think so!’ I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, quite hard.

‘God, I feel knackered, though.’ Those sublime lashes drift down again, and it does seem as if he’s as spent as if he’s just run a marathon. Even so, he still clings to my hand.

I lean in, touch his dear face, stroke his skin. I wonder what his scalp feels like, all shaven and velvety, but I know it’s irresponsible to investigate and the nurse would probably frogmarch me out immediately if I started messing with the cap. So I console myself with running my fingertips over his stubbly jaw. He mutters something about ‘should’ve shaved there too …’ and opens his eyes and smiles again.

When I kiss his cheek he just quietly accepts it. I whisper, ‘Good night, sweet prince,’ into his ear, thinking how stupid and soppy I must sound, and how when he’s back on top form he’s perhaps not going to be too keen on such sentimentality.

Behind me, the nurse says, ‘Time to go, Ms Price. You can come back in the morning.’

But just as I release Daniel’s hand, touch his shoulder and step back again, he whispers quietly but intently, ‘Good night, my love. See you tomorrow.’