Paging Dr. Hot (33 page)

So help me God, I don’t think I can do this anymore.

Please St. Jude, I beg of you, please make us survive this insane stunt. I’ll do anything, I’ll…I’ll…

“Frankie, we’re up next,” Harrison says, kissing the top of my head from behind me. He tilts my face up and his intense green eyes bore into mine. “Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to go through with this. There’s still time to back out.”

He said this earlier, too, when I turned white while signing the documents and disclaimers. Now we’re strapped together to fly tandem (turns out he is a certified instructor after logging tons of miles, so at least I’m in good hands).

I swallow hard against my constricting throat. “I want to do this, I swear. I have to prove to myself that I can. This is only the beginning. Fear is not an option,” I say, trying to sound convincing. But who am I kidding? A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead and I’m about to…

“Great,” says the cheerful videographer behind us who will be videotaping our jump. “Be sure to smile for the camera.”

He’ll be lucky if I don’t lose the contents of my stomach.

“Okay, baby, here we go,” Harrison says, gently squeezing my shoulders. He is directly in back of me and we’re both in harnesses, linked together. Harrison’s solid weight and broad shoulders braced behind me make me relax a tiny bit
until
we step on the ledge and face a vast, open void.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh, God, I can’t look!”

“Jump, Frankie. I’m right behind you,” Harrison urges as his hand nudges my bottom. “Don’t hold your breath and open your eyes so you can enjoy it.”

“OHMIGOD, WE’RE GOING TO DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” I scream as we step off the ledge.

Harrison laughs into my ear. “No, we’re not. Open your eyes, Frankie. Relax and enjoy looking at the world. Isn’t it great?”

After the initial scream, I can’t get any words out. I manage to pry open my eyes, but I’m freefalling in the air, wondering if we’ll even make it down alive. I start praying to St. Jude fervently.

Harrison puts his arms around me and hugs me tightly. “You are amazing, Frankie. I love you!”

“What did you say?” I shout.

“I said I love you!” he shouts back.

Did he just say what I think he did? Before I can answer anything coherent, he does the unforgivable—he flips us into a spin.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I shriek.

Harrison stops spinning and then pulls the parachute open. As we glide like birds, I begin to feel incredibly peaceful, like I’ve been doped up. This is amazing, surreal, ethereal. I’m one with God
and nature. Have I just died? Am I having one of those out of body experiences I’ve heard about? No, that’s impossible. Harrison’s body is pressed against mine and I can feel it vividly.

Best of all, Harrison loves me!
Me
—not Fizzy or his ex, Daphne. Me, Frankie, the chicken turned brave skydiver!

I’ve never felt lighter—except after the cleansing I once did, but that’s another story. Everything is perfect. I have just taken a huge leap, literally, and I’m still alive, so far…

“We’re almost there,” Harrison says. “Be sure to squat your legs as we land.”

I look down and see we’re approaching land. Somehow, we hit the ground feet first in a perfectly executed landing. Bravo, Harrison!

“Quick,” he urges as we scramble to pick up the parachute and fold it.

Once everything is gathered up, Harrison turns toward me with a glowing smile. “Oh, baby, you are the best!” He pulls me into a tight hug and my heart soars with joy.

“So are you,” I say in a voice hoarse from screaming so much.

All the trauma I went through was worth it to be held in Harrison’s strong arms and hear him tell me I’m the best. Was I delirious, or did he twice tell me he loved me while we were suspended in midair?

“I love you, Frankie,” he says, and I wonder if he can read my mind. I peer at him, drugged by Harrison’s beautiful green eyes as they darken with desire. “And not because of the sky diving. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I was in trouble.”

Harrison’s mouth closes over mine and his warm, sweet tongue tastes me with a thoroughness that takes my breath away. The memory of his first kiss comes back full force and I want more of them—forever.

Drunk with love, I pull back long enough to murmur, “And I love you, Dr. Hot.”

Harrison and I barely make it into his apartment before we’re in each other’s arms again, tearing our clothes off. The scorching desire in his eyes makes me melt against him. I’m about to give him my heart, my everything, but in this case it feels so right…
he
feels so right.

Harrison’s big hands clasp my bottom and lift up, his hard length pressed against my throbbing pelvis. I wrap my legs around his waist and he walks us to the bed, lavishing hot, hungry kisses on my mouth and neck.

Before long we’re passionately entwined and he is inside me. I welcome his deliberate thrusts with escalating moans, biting my lower lip until my body implodes with a million spicy, sweet sparks. I’m still reeling over the intense pleasure when he climaxes and hoarsely utters, “Frankie, my love,” over and over again.

Quivering, I cling to him as if my life depends on it.

Much later, we’re curled up in Harrison’s bed. We made love a second time, this time slow and long, and my body is still flushed and tender from the powerful sensations. My head rests on his solid chest listening to his steady heartbeat, while his right arm hugs me snugly against him.

We are watching the skydiving videotape. Harrison’s shoulders shake as he cracks up laughing when the camera does a close-up of me screaming and waving my arms like a lunatic (not a pretty sight). I smack his chest, pretending to be mad at him, but I can’t help joining in his amusement.

“I can laugh now, but I was terrified we’d never make it back alive. For a minute there, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven,” I admit.

I don’t mention that’s how I feel when we make love—it’s an intoxicating high that I’ve never felt and I want to feel again and again with him. There is nothing like making love after skydiving with the man you love, especially if he’s one hot doctor like Harrison. I highly recommend it—the lovemaking, that is, not the skydiving.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to skydive again,” he says, ruffling my hair. “We can always enjoy other sports…”

“That’s a relief. Like which ones?” I ask peering up at him.

“Contact sports,” he says in a husky voice that leaves no doubt what kind. His hand glides over me creating tingles that feel like butterfly wings teasing my skin.

“Sounds good to me.” I’m pleased with his answer, but then a niggling question enters my mind that’s been bothering me and I have to voice it.

“Um…Harrison?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel about your ex?”

His warm hand on my breast goes still. “My ex? Why do you want to know about her? This isn’t a good time, Frankie.”

Harrison’s voice is gruff, but I can’t let it go. I don’t want to be a mood killer, but I have to know.

“Do you still stay in touch?” I ask, tracing lazy circles on his chest with my fingertip. I feel far from lazy, my heart is pounding and I’m anxious to hear his response.

“Yeah. Daphne’s a vet, like me. We talk sometimes, but it’s usually about our practice or the sports we like.”

“Oh,” I say in a small voice. He hasn’t said anything about his upcoming trip. Should I bring it up? No, this isn’t the right time, but still…

“Sounds like you have a lot in common.” I can hear the wistfulness in my voice and wish I didn’t feel so vulnerable.

Harrison grunts. “Yeah, too much of it. That’s why we didn’t work as a couple, we’re too much alike.” He pulls away and looks in my eyes. “She wanted to meet up at the Canyon with her new boyfriend, but I didn’t go for it. I told her I doubted he would appreciate having me there.”

“Really?” I search his eyes and I can barely contain my joy when I see the sincerity in them. I tuck my head under his chin and say fervently, “I’m so glad to hear it. I was worried I’m not your type.”

“Hey.” He tips my chin up to meet his probing gaze again. “What’s all this about?”

“I can’t scale the Grand Canyon, Harrison, but I can wait for you at the lodge if you like. I don’t want you to get frustrated or bored because I don’t share your love of danger.”

Harrison’s chest rumbles. “Bored with
you
, Frankie? Impossible. My life hasn’t had a moment’s peace since I met you and I like it that way.” My pulse beats riotously as he kisses my breasts, slowly, languidly, taking my nipples into his mouth until I’m feverish with wanting him again.

“When I first met you, my knees wobbled and they still do when I’m around you.” I choke out the words between panting breaths—his mouth is driving me wild.

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see that,” Harrison drawls, his voice hoarse with lust. He kisses my knees, first one then the other, and by the time his hungry mouth works its way up my legs, I’m beside myself with wanting him again.

“You’re the only one for me, Frankie,” he growls, kissing my sensitive inner thigh. His glowing eyes cause waves of desire that awaken every nerve cell with delight and wonder. Within seconds he has me gasping and writhing on the bed.

When I recover from another dizzying pinnacle of release, I burrow my nose against Harrison’s muscular chest and inhale deeply. I can’t get enough of his intoxicating scent or of him, for that matter.

“I’m looking forward to more…
much
more,” I say, my heart bursting with love.

“Me too, baby.”

Harrison’s strong body eases over mine. I close my eyes and sigh at the exquisite pleasure of his love.

Romeo: Rrrrufff, it’s about time! Francesca finally found love and she and my hero Harrison are acting like lovesick pups.

And me? I’m head over paws for my delectable Coquette. With her by my side, I feel stronger and smarter than Lassie.

Raooorrr! I smell puppies in the bargain…

About the Author

Bestselling author Sophia Knightly loves to cook up hot romance and delicious humor in her feel-good stories. Whether it's romantic suspense or romantic comedy, her books are fun and sexy contemporary romances.

A two-time Maggie award finalist, she believes in love-at-first sight and happy endings, and she always enjoys a good laugh. When not writing or reading, she finds pleasure in walking the beach, exploring museums, going to the theatre, enjoying good food and watching movies. One of her favorite pastimes remains simply watching people, especially those in love!

Write to her at:
[email protected]

Follow her on Twitter:
@SophiaKnightly

Join her Facebook author page by “liking”
http://on.fb.me/vGfJ5t

Visit her website at:
www.sophiaknightly.com

Look for these titles by Sophia Knightly

Now Available:

Grill Me, Baby

The heat is on…

Grill Me, Baby

© 2012 Sophia Knightly

Raised among women who taught him to cook at his family’s Buenos Aires restaurant, master chef Paolo Santos deftly works his culinary wiles—and his gypsy charm—on posh Flamingo Island’s female clientele.

The tastiest tidbit on the island, though, is cool, elegant Michaela Willoughby. The redhead’s slender curves are as enticing as her rabbit-food menus are maddening. And she’s his main competition for the chance of a lifetime.

Michaela overcame her own weight issues to become Flamingo Island’s premiere spa chef. Now she has a chance to share her innovative recipes for healthy living on a new cooking show—if she can somehow outshine Paolo. His sizzling, Latin-lover looks are more heart stopping than his decadent cooking. And she’d love nothing better than to stick a fork in his outsized ego.

When the stage lights ignite, so does the competition…and a sexual chemistry no one—least of all Paolo and Michaela—saw coming. Suddenly, separating business from pleasure is as impossible as separating a scrambled egg. And the big question isn’t whose knife cuts fastest…it’s whose heart can take the most heat.

Warning:
Contains two hot chefs duking it out in a lively showdown of sexy rivalry. Mix in family drama, luscious recipes and spicy mischief, and there’s more than just steam rising out of the kitchen. May cause lusty cravings for midnight indulgences.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Grill Me, Baby:

“Come sit beside me.” His dark eyes glowed with invitation. “I’ll prepare a fig for you to enjoy.”
 

“No, thanks. I can’t eat another bite. I’m full.” She patted her stomach as she joined him on the couch. He moved in so close she could feel the steely strength of his thigh muscles pressed against hers.

“Do you know that the inside is an inverted flower? In Italy, they refer to the fig as a feminine flower.” He paused. “I grew up eating figs.”