Wild and Willing! (16 page)

‘A hotel…’ Adam began.

‘Wouldn’t be happy to accept infectious children. I don’t want to hear any more on the subject.’

Anna grimaced; he hadn’t put up the sort of fight she would have expected of him. Somehow she would just have to get through the next few hours, she decided with stoical determination.

Adam did prove immovable on one subject—he insisted he take Anna’s place on the camp bed in the bedroom the twins had appropriated.

Tired, but unable to make her overactive brain switch from its high gear, Anna lay awake, listening to Kate’s light, regular breathing on the other side of the room.

Her parents’ hospitality and the informal atmosphere which naturally prevailed when two young children were present had made the rest of the day surprisingly convivial. Adam had seemed quite at home in the unpretentious surroundings. He’d been more relaxed than she’d ever seen him in the children’s company. Nobody had appeared to notice anything amiss in her own behaviour.

Her straining ears picked up the sound of a child’s cry. She waited for it to stop but it rang out again. What if Adam hadn’t woken? Rather than lie there wondering she decided to investigate. The door to her own bedroom was slightly ajar, and she paused uncertainly outside. Another small whimper galvanised her into action.

Barefoot, she entered the room. Adam’s shape was a dark, ill-defined bulk in the shadows. She avoided the low camp bed as she moved behind the screen that temporarily separated her own bed, occupied by the twins, from his. The bamboo supports of the screen swayed as she got tangled in her own robe which was still draped across one corner. She bit her lip and stifled a cry of vexation.

The twins seemed to be asleep. She touched their brows and both were cool enough. But she jumped when Sam cried out.

‘They’re both asleep.’

She stuffed her fingers in her mouth to stifle the scream.

‘I’m not, though.’

She stepped round to the other side of the screen. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you,’ she whispered back nervously.

‘Good intentions count for nothing,’ he said huskily. The sound of his voice made her heart race in panic, but
it was the sharp, illicit thrill of excitement that made her turn to run. ‘Don’t go.’

‘You should get some sleep,’ she said sternly to the dark figure which rose up into a sitting position.

‘My back’s killing me on this thing.’

‘I told you it was too small for you.’

‘Don’t sound so sanctimonious.’

‘Keep your voice down; you’ll wake them. Believe me, you
don’t
want to do that.’

‘Poor Anna, you must be tired. Did I say thank you?’

‘You save your good manners for my parents,’ she responded, moving closer as Nathan twitched restlessly in his sleep so that she didn’t need to raise her voice.

‘They’re nice to me. Why aren’t you nice to me, Anna?’

She snorted with disgust. ‘Go to sleep, Adam.’ A hand that accurately curled around her ankle stopped her flight. ‘Let go, you idiot!’ she whispered fiercely.

‘Or what? You’ll scream?’ he suggested, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that made her teeth grind. ‘My back is murder. Why don’t you come and take pity on me? In a purely professional capacity, of course.’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in alternative treatments,’ she said hoarsely. The idea of laying her fingers against his skin was making her go hot all over. Her heart was pounding like a wild thing in her chest as she tried to sound prosaic.

‘Think of this as an ideal opportunity to convert me.’

‘I’m not that desperate for custom.’

‘But I’m that desperate for sleep.’

The sheer weariness in his voice broke through the fatal chink in her armour. ‘Then sleep on the sofa; I’ll listen out for the boys,’ she offered.

‘I already feel guilty enough; I’ve deprived you of one night’s sleep.’

A tiny sound bubbled free from her throat.
One night!
If only he knew. ‘It’s not
my
fault you can’t sleep,’ she whispered back.

‘I wouldn’t sound so confident about that if I were you.’ The raw edge in his voice made butterflies squirm in her belly. ‘I’ve got to get this lot back to Hampshire tomorrow, and no doubt the twins will be travel-sick, as is their habit. Then come Monday I have to be back here to begin a theatre list as long as your arm.’

His thumb rubbed along her fine shin bone. ‘On second thoughts it’s probably longer than your arm, you being such a tiny thing. If you don’t care about me, think about those poor, unsuspecting patients and the scalpel in my shaking hand.’

‘For goodness’ sake,’ she said in exasperated defeat. ‘I can’t promise miracles.’ She knelt down and reached tentatively out in the dark. Her cool fingers made contact with his skin and she jerked back as if stung. ‘I can’t see a thing,’ she hissed, licking her dry lips and trying to compose her turbulent mind.

‘Does that matter?’ She heard the canvas bed move as he shifted his weight. ‘I’m at your mercy.’

His words brought some very unprofessional images to her mind. Images of herself astride his powerful body… She shook her head to shake off the powerful illusions. She was glad of the cloak of darkness to hide her blushes.

‘My hands are a little cold,’ she said levelly, taking a deep breath and placing her splayed fingers on his back, correctly finding the base of his spine. He inhaled deeply but didn’t reply as slowly she slid her thumbs up either side of his spinal column. Her outstretched fingers moved over the muscled ridges of his back, sliding firmly over his warm, satiny skin.

‘You
are
tense,’ she murmured, repeating the slow motion again. ‘Is that all right?’ she asked. Her body arched over his, intent on locating and releasing all the points of pressure beneath her fingertips.

A guttural sound of contentment was the only response she heard. Growing more confident with each passing moment, she continued to work on his back. The tactile sensations made her feel a little drunk and she rapidly lost track of time. He had a fine, strong back, straight, with no excess flesh to conceal the fine muscles from her probing fingers.

It was only when the physical exertion of the task began to make itself evident in her own burning muscles that she stopped. Adam’s breathing was low and regular; any base motives he might have had had been overwhelmed by genuine exhaustion. The glow of warm tenderness that engulfed Anna took her by surprise and tears pricked the back of her eyelids. She closed her eyes and wearily began to get to her feet. She inadvertently brushed against his thigh and bit her lip, standing stockstill for a moment.

‘You’ve got cold feet.’ The sleepy accusation made her jump just as she thought she was safe.

‘Go to sleep,’ she said in a flat tone meant not to intrude into his semi-conscious state.

‘Come and warm your feet.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Adam.’ A hint of panic crept into her voice as she recognised the attractions of his invitation. She was particularly susceptible with the scent of his skin still in her nostrils and her hands still feeling his warmth. It would be easy to forget common sense in the cocoon of darkness.
‘Go to sleep.’

‘Not until you warm your feet.’ He was still sleepy, but she could hear a hint of awareness creeping into the stubborn tone.

‘You’ll wake the boys.’

‘Then don’t be stupid. Come and warm your feet.’

Alarmed by the rising volume of his voice, she made a split-second decision and slipped quickly under the light cover. She was only humouring a lunatic, she told herself soothingly. All sorts of warning lights flashed in
her brain but she ignored them. She laid her icy feet against his bare calves and curled her body against his back. There wasn’t much room to do anything else. She would stay there until he slipped back to sleep and then go back to her own bed.

Adam gave a grunt of contentment. ‘That’s better,’ he breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Anna stifled a shriek as the metal legs of the bed groaned under their joint weight, and her arm instinctively went around his middle. Her forearm was immediately wrapped firmly in a strong grip.

‘Good girl,’ came the approving comment.

He was asleep; she was reasonably sure of this fact. Lying very still, she waited for his grip to relax, as it was bound to, she told herself. She tried very hard not to think about where she was and what she could feel, but it was
very
difficult.

Adam was sleeping in boxer shorts that left very little to her riotous imagination. The firm, muscular globes of his buttocks were pressed against her legs. If she looped her left leg over his thighs she might stop herself slithering off the narrow bed. This was a risky strategy, but once she thought of it she found she couldn’t get the idea out of her head. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that she wondered what the feel of hair-roughened flank would be like against her softer flesh—certainly not.

When she finally did it it felt sensational!

‘Are you thinking of taking advantage of me while I’m unconscious?’

‘Adam! You’re asleep,’ she accused, trying to remove her leg. He hooked his arm under her knee, effectively anchoring her against him.

‘I’m tired, not dead!’

‘I was falling,’ she babbled. ‘This bed’s not built for two people.’ She caught her breath sharply. ‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked. His fingers were moving upwards
along the inner curve of her imprisoned thigh. She gave a faint moan as they moved beneath the hitchedup hem of her nightdress. ‘I’ll scream if you don’t stop doing that,’ she threatened weakly.

Her head twisted as his fingers sent shivery, electrically charged quivers down to her toes. She was panting, and her head sank against his neck.

‘This is silly.’ Her lips brushed against the side of his neck as she forced the words out. She ought to lift her head but all the energy had been sapped from her limbs. A sweet, aching desperation suffused her.

‘Silly! This is sensational.’ The smooth sound of his breathing had become as irregular and as laboured as her own shallow gasps.

‘All that hard work I put in on your back will be ruined; you’re getting all stiff and tense again.’ She hoped this stern practicality would defuse this potentially disastrous situation.

The vibrations from the low, wicked chuckle that rumbled in his chest travelled up her fingertips. Her fingers flexed and pressed deeper into the dusting of fine hair that was sprinkled over his chest.

‘I could show you…’ His voice trailed off suggestively.

‘I just bet you could,’ she responded tartly. It wouldn’t do at all if he guessed how her pulse had quickened. ‘Don’t you dare move, Adam Deacon!’ she gasped as she felt his body shift. ‘If you turn over…’

‘If I turn over, what?’ he persisted huskily.

‘Didn’t you know children always wake up at the wrong moment?’ If she was honest that was the only thing that was preventing her from weakly succumbing to this forbidden craving. Her empty protestations weren’t going to penetrate the sizzling passion that crackled in his deep voice; the truth just might. The privacy afforded by the screen was fragile, a fact she couldn’t let him forget.

‘Have you any idea what this is doing to me?’ he groaned, after a short silence. He exhaled deliberately through his mouth, the series of short, hard gasps obviously part of the enormous effort he was making to gain control.

‘I’ll go,’ she said swiftly. However superficial his feelings for her were there was no doubting they were powerful. She ought to be able to dismiss this as a demeaning game he was playing, but she couldn’t. The constant battle with her own feelings left her far too malleable.

‘You expect me to stay still for that?’ he asked in a low, impassioned voice that was loud enough only for her ears. ‘I want to turn around and feel your lovely slim legs wrapped around me. Your breasts are wasted pressed against my back— I want to feel them in my hands, taste them. I want to taste every inch of your lovely, lithe body. I want to hear you beg me to touch you. I want to feel you hot and silky as I enter you,’ he growled softly.

‘I’ve been imagining doing all those things since the first time you laughed at me and I’ve embroidered a good deal of detail into the blueprint by now,’ he warned her. ‘Don’t try to sneak away now or I’ll find somewhere to be alone with you.’

She believed him, though she doubted there was even an empty cupboard in the house tonight. One half of her wanted to beg him to do all the things his greedy, erotic voice had spoken of. Love was proving far stronger than her instinct to survive with her pride intact. Each syllable had echoed in her head, stretching the conflict within her to breaking point.

‘Adam!’ she breathed shakily. She wanted to add, Please, please love me! Instead she said in a small voice, ‘I’ll stay.’

‘What an anticlimax.’

He had that much right, she thought dolefully. ‘I thought you wanted me to stay.’

‘I wanted you, full stop. Now don’t squirm or our deal’s null and void.’ He grunted as she withdrew her leg and gave a regretful sigh. ‘That might be for the best.’

‘Why do you want me to stay?’

‘I want to see what you look like in the morning.’

‘I look like hell,’ she warned him, rather angry he could be flippant when she felt so wretched.

Anna didn’t expect to sleep, but exhaustion proved stronger than her expectations. Squashed into the niche left by Adam’s body, she slept deeply.

Hearing was the first sense to return, a rustling and gentle giggling. Anna snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes tight against the light that penetrated the delicate skin of her closed eyelids.

‘Why is Anna in your bed, Uncle Adam?’ The shrill childish voice shattered her tenuous grasp on slumber.

I couldn’t have!
she exclaimed silently. The prickle against her cheek was fine hair that covered a definitely masculine chest. I did— I fell asleep! Horror-filled, her eyes shot open.

‘Good morning,’ Adam said, his green eyes all innocence as she stared at him in a hunted fashion. She closed her eyes, wishing fervently that she could suddenly become invisible.