Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart. Carol Marinelli
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sexual tension between them.
‘I’m taking you home.’
His words were very decisive and Emily looked back at him. An alarm was ringing in her head, warning her to just walk away now, except there was something else signalling louder.
Instinct.
She had never been more aware of it. Simply, her instinct told her to accept the kiss that was nearing.
‘Emily!’ They could both hear Gina calling her name again, but this time it seemed to be coming from a very long way off.
She caught the fresh tang of him, a scent that had remained trapped in her senses since the first day they had met. Oh, where was her perfect man when she needed him? The one that didn’t move her so.
Hugh lowered his head and his mouth brushed hers. Soft and warm, it made her own lips want to part like the Red Sea but she somehow held them closed. Except that meant she inhaled his scent, and the scent of Hugh was possibly more potent so she borrowed the wall behind her to lean on. His lips were more insistent now, nudging hers as his hands held her face, and finally their mouths commenced their first dance—a gentle dance at first to accustom themselves, then a playful dance that began to tease, but when their tongues met it was like an accelerant.
Hugh actually felt the shift. One minute they were kissing and the next their mouths belonged to each other. The party disappeared, the only noise was them—cool to his words she was hot to his mouth, Hugh felt as if he’d tripped and found a portal as he held the passion that burned in his arms. His hands left her face and moved to her hips without thought and were made very welcome for her bottom left the wall and the press of her body was as suggestive as his.
He pulled back but only because to continue would have them on the edge of indecent. Emily could taste his breath, see his lips wet from hers and she wanted to be back there now, yet she resisted the call of her body and moved her hips away from him.
Oh, it wasn’t that Hugh was bad that terrified her, it was that he was so, so good.
‘I really do have to go.’
She moved to the side and slipped past, and Hugh watched as she walked off, both trying to get his breath back and trying to ignore the fact he had been dismissed. Then he smothered the smile that came to his lips when Louise told Emily that Gina had just gone. ‘She said you looked busy.’
There was a flush on Emily’s cheeks but it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from arousal by the man who was now by her side.
‘Let’s go.’
It could have been an awkward ride home except Emily knew that she was possibly approaching the ride of her life.
Never, in all her twenty-three years had a man detonated her the way Hugh had.
His hand was on her thigh as they drove and she took no offence for hers was on his and it was suggestive down to her fingernails in a way she had never been before. The relief when he turned off the engine at the same time as he pulled up the handbrake had her snap off her seat belt in haste to return to his mouth.
‘Emily …’ His hand was up her skirt like two out-of-control teenagers and the spinning wheels in her head slowed as he halted. ‘Not here.’
She was going to ask him in.
Sex.
Brilliant, sex and, and …
Emily pulled back her head and denied instinct.
‘I’m going in …’
‘Sure.’ Hugh would, of course, rather she asked him in too but, well, this would be so worth the wait.
She watched his mouth move and offer dinner, a catch-up next week, though his hand between her thighs told her it would definitely end in bed and it was time to bring things to a halt.
‘Hugh.’ She let out a breath. ‘I don’t know …’ She changed tack. ‘It’s just …’ How could she deny the want that thrummed between them? For Emily there was but one thing left to do so she came up with a rapid lie. ‘I’m seeing someone.’
‘Oh.’
‘Gregory.’
‘It’s fine, I get it …’ Though he didn’t. Poor Gregory, Hugh thought as he reclaimed his hand, because five minutes from now he’d have had her knickers off.
‘He’s in Scotland, so we don’t see each other as much as—’
‘You really don’t need to explain.’
And so the phantom Gregory was born.
When her father and Donna broke up in the New Year it was to Gregory she turned, rather than Hugh, though they did touch on it once, because Hugh came into the staffroom when Emily was on the phone.
‘Donna, I get it that you have issues with my father but I don’t understand what that has to do with me. If you don’t want to see me that’s fine but can I just take the twins to the park or for an ice cream every now and then …?’ She turned in her chair and saw that Hugh had come in just as Donna told her that, no, she’d prefer Emily didn’t have extra contact with the twins—she could see them when her father bothered to.
‘Is she not letting you see the twins?’ Hugh asked when she came off the phone.
‘I can see them when they’re with my dad, which isn’t very often. I asked if I could take them out at the weekend but it unsettles them apparently.’
‘Can she do that?’
‘Of course she can.’ Emily stood and went to walk past but Hugh caught her arm.
‘Emily?’
‘What?’
‘Do you want …?’ Hugh didn’t really know what he was offering.
Emily did.
Yes, she did want.
She wanted to burst into tears, she wanted him to take her out and not cheer her up, just share …
She wanted to share with him.
Emily looked down at the fingers that still held her wrist.
Oh, he could hurt her, Emily thought, and then looked up to his eyes. He could really, really hurt her.
‘I’ll sort it out,’ Emily said. ‘Gregory is going to try and speak with her.’
At the mention of Gregory his hand disengaged from her arm.
For the next three months, every time Emily went to visit her mother Hugh was brought up to speed through vague conversations. However, just as he was starting to wonder about the fact that Gregory never seemed to come down to London, Emily actually found her perfect guy for real, so Gregory was swiftly dumped.
Marcus was perfect.
Dark haired, terribly serious, he was a social worker at the hospital and liked to hike at weekends. Sex happened on Saturdays, occasional Tuesdays, and Emily developed solid calf muscles from trips up hillsides.
It was perfect for close to two years when the breaking news arrow shot across the hospital grapevine that Marcus had been found in a compromising position in the X-ray department with Heidi, the Swedish radiographer.
Hugh, now a senior registrar and going out with Olivia by then, expected tears in the staffroom, blushes and drama—the usual type of thing that happened with a very public break-up. With Emily that didn’t happen, though …
Oh, she was a curious thing.
Emily just shrugged it off and got on with work.
The very next Monday they stood in Theatre and Emily glanced up as the alarm went off on the cardiac monitor when the anaesthetised patient kicked off a few ectopic heartbeats.
‘All fine,’ Rory, the anaesthetist,