The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance. Carol Marinelli

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The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance - Carol Marinelli


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I’m pretty wrecked. Night duty hasn’t left me at my most sparkling.’ She told him her address and he tapped it into his phone. ‘I’ll see you tonight about seven?’

      ‘Sounds good.’

      It was the middle of the day, there were people everywhere and yet when he took her in his arms it could have been the end of the most romantic night.

      ‘Thanks for coming to lunch.’

      ‘Thanks for asking me.’

      It was a very new thing to her, to be somewhere simply because she wanted to be. It should be wrong, except it felt completely right. He was older, wiser and sexier than she had ever dealt with and she was more turned on than she had ever been in her life, and he hadn’t even kissed her.

      That was about to be corrected, though. Her heart was galloping even more than it had the first day they’d met. Right now it was almost leaping out of her throat in anticipation. An anticipation she had never known because when their lips met it seemed to set off a chain reaction. This is what a mouth should feel like, Candy thought, and This is what a tongue was surely designed for, she decided as his stroked hers.

      Yes, there was a building anticipation because when first his body melded with hers Candy couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if his hand moved a little higher, or how it would be if she moved in a little closer. Each question was answered—the sound of the traffic dimmed as their kiss intensified. She had never been kissed expertly before and his hand moved just a little higher than her waist to the edge of her rib cage and she ached for it to move higher still. His mouth, the pressure of his lips, the constant beckon of his tongue made her move in closer and she felt breathless.

      Both rested their foreheads on the other’s for a moment. Trust time to make things complicated, because if it had been nearly two a.m. they would be racing home right about now.

      It was daylight, people were talking, a lazy Sunday afternoon was going on all around as they pulled back and met each other’s eyes.

      ‘Tonight’ was the unspoken word between them.

      Candy had never really looked forward to the night in that way before.

      ‘I’m going to be late for my meeting,’ Steele said as she got back to his mouth.

      ‘You can be two minutes late,’ she said.

      She just needed one more taste.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      THANK GOD THAT she’d just had her period.

      It had used to be Candy’s excuse not to have sex, but as she had a lovely long bath and shaved and plucked and buffed her body into suitable Steele shape, she was grateful for that fact.

      Yes, her Catholic guilt was hovering there in the background but she told it to please be quiet as she took her Pill.

      She still hid them in her handbag. It was a matter of habit and her mother would freak, just completely freak, if she knew that Candy was on it. She’d come off it last year but, given what had happened with Gerry, she had gone back on it. She and Gerry had used condoms but what had happened had been such a surprise that she did not want to take any risks.

      She hadn’t gone home after lunch with Steele; instead, she’d dashed to the shops and bought fabulous underwear that she was now tearing the labels off. There was a silver-grey bra that gave her the best cleavage ever and silver panties that made her dimply bottom look fantastic. In fact, she was so impressed with them that Candy had bought a set in purple also.

      She’d always felt fat, but she felt curvy now.

      I’ll regret it later, she promised her conscience as she looked in the mirror.

       Just not yet!

      With no idea where they were going Candy decided on a pale shift dress that would look casual with ballet pumps or fab with heels.

      It didn’t work with her new bra, though.

      Second go.

      A grey wraparound dress worked better, though showed a little more cleavage than her parents would consider suitable.

      Perfect!

      Not big on make-up, Candy put on some mascara and a slick of lipstick and when there was a knock at the door she was nervous, but nicely so.

      ‘You’re no help,’ Candy said as she let him in and he handed her a bottle of wine. Steele was wearing black jeans and a black shirt. He looked incredibly handsome and had that air about him that meant he was suitably dressed for any venue.

      ‘Meaning?’ Steele asked.

      ‘I was trying to decide whether to wear flats or heels given that I don’t know where we’re going.’

      ‘We’re going to the movies,’ Steele said. ‘I figured it might be nice if you’re tired—though we shan’t be making out in the back row. I like watching a film properly.’

      ‘What are we going to see?’ she asked. The movies was possibly the nicest place he could take her if they had to go out. It would be nice to turn her brain off for a couple of hours.

      ‘Two choices,’ he said. ‘One is very dark, apparently funny in part. One is very sad … See what mood you’re in.’

      ‘I don’t mind,’ she said as she led him through her lounge and put the wine down on the bench of a very small kitchen.

      ‘So this is what all the arguments with your parents were about?’ Steele said, looking around the living room of her small but cosy flat. The front door opened to the living room. Off that was a small kitchen and to the side a hall that led to the bathroom and bedroom. ‘It’s nice.’

      ‘I love it,’ Candy said. ‘It’s a ten-minute walk to the Underground, a five-minute walk to my favourite Indian restaurant.

      ‘We can eat before or after …’ Steele said.

      The thought of Indian before sounded too good to pass up, but then other senses were calling, the attraction wafting between them as potent as any delicious aroma from food.

      Candy knew she was eons behind him sexually. She wanted to have slept with him, in part to have jumped that hurdle without knocking it over, in part just to dive onto the track …

      And Candy usually hated even the thought of sport, but, oh, he was handsome.

      And he was here.

      ‘Do you want a glass of wine?’ she offered, even though he’d brought it, but Steele shook his head.

      ‘Not for me,’ he said. ‘I’m driving. You have one, though …’ He went to open the bottle he’d brought but she stopped him.

      ‘Not for me.’ Candy shook her head. ‘I don’t really drink and anyway I’m on early tomorrow. I’ll just get my shoes.’

      She went to her bedroom and put on flats but as she came out Steele frowned.

      ‘What happened to the heels?’

      ‘For the movies?’

      ‘For me.’

      She smiled and went and put on said heels, with Steele watching her from the doorway.

      He made her shiver. If Gerry had stood watching her she’d have found it invasive, but with Steele she just wanted to strip off her dress, pull back the covers on the bed and climb in.

      She could feel his eyes on her calf muscles and then on her bum and she turned and it was nice to feel provocative. It was something she had never felt before. He made her feel like this.

      And he made her want to kiss him.

      It was as simple as that, as natural as breathing to stand in the


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