Lori Wilde – Lethal Exposure (страница 4)
“Priapism.” Maxine winked.
This time Julie did sigh. “Priapism” was the medical term for an erection that wouldn’t abate even with repeated sexual activity. The cause was usually drug-induced. “Viagra?”
“Some herbal thing.”
“Guest’s age?”
Confidential Rejuvenations’ new policy was to call the patients “guests” as part of the hospital’s attempts to revamp their image damaged by recent scandals. In Julie’s estimation it was a silly idea, but no one had asked her opinion.
“He’s thirty-one.”
“So this was a recreational thing, not a home remedy for impotence?”
“Apparently.”
Julie frowned. “Boys and their toys.”
Maxine glanced over her right shoulder, and then over her left. Finally she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The patient is a Hollywood director who’s been shooting a film here in Austin. He’s being admitted under a generic alias to the Corona Suite.”
It wasn’t uncommon for celebrities to dodge the paparazzi by signing in with bland monikers like Smith or Jones or Black.
“But before you escort him to his suite,” Maxine continued, “Dr. Carpenter wants you to put him in exam room one, do a physical assessment and then call him when you’re done.”
“Gotcha.” Julie grabbed her laptop computer that was docked on a rolling cart, and headed off down the tiled corridor to check on the rest of her “guests” before the hotshot Hollywood director showed up on the floor.
She’d just completed her rounds when a man in a beige London Fog raincoat got off the elevator and came toward her. He smelled of musky autumn rain and dark truffles.
Stunned, she stood there staring.
He was movie-star gorgeous, causing her to wonder why he’d chosen a career behind the camera instead of in front of it. Tall and lean, but muscular as an athlete. His thick black hair was brushed back off his forehead, giving him a powerful appearance, which was complemented by his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, cream-colored shirt and maroon silk tie. His eyes were enigmatic, his cheekbones high and chiseled, his mouth wide and inviting. His eyes, fringed by lush lashes, looked black as ink and full of mystery.
He was the kind of man who made even a die-hard romantic like Julie surrender her happily-ever-after daydreams for the promise of one unforgettable night in his bed.
Definitely a Hollywood type. This had to be her guy.
The air between them weighed heavy with expectation. He looked as if he owned the entire hospital and everyone in it. He looked as if he wanted to own her as well.
Feeling ambushed by this totally unexpected and wholly inappropriate sexual attraction, Julie’s stomach pitched as a dozen wayward fantasies flipped through her mind.
She pictured herself rolling around on a bearskin rug in a woodsy Alaskan cabin with the guy. She imagined their sweat-drenched bodies pressed together as they made love on the white sand beach in the Canary Islands. She envisioned them writhing against each other on the dance floor of a trendy salsa club as they danced the Lambada.
He was an Artic explorer and she was a native woman offering him the comfort of her igloo…and her body. She was a high-class call girl and he was her frisky sugar daddy and they were joining the mile-high club on a first-class trip to Paris. He was a virile cowboy and she was a sassy saloon gal.
In her wildly imaginative mind, she could taste the briny flavor of his skin as she licked his bare nipple. She inhaled the intrinsic scent of lusty man. She could hear his deep-throated groan as he called out her name in pleasure.
What was wrong with her? He was a patient. She was a nurse. It was inappropriate, unprofessional and wrong on about ten different levels. She should not be feeling these sensations.
And yet, she was.
She tried to make her mind blank. Tried to tamp down the erotic vision of what his hot male body would look like stripped of his London Fog raincoat and designer suit. She tried to slam the brakes on her taboo fantasies.
But she could not.
Oh, this was bad, bad, bad. She was supposed to be the sex expert, but
Shocked by the intensity of her emotions, her gaze dropped helplessly to his crotch.
SEBASTIAN, who didn’t miss a trick, noticed where the nurse’s gaze went and he suppressed a smile. “Hi, I’m Mr. Black.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she murmured.
Her tongue flicked out and she ran it across her full, strawberry-colored lips.
Spellbound, he simply stared. He liked her. He liked her a lot.
She stood at the end of the corridor in front of a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. The late-afternoon sun filtering in through the myriad of colors cast a radiant rainbow over her smooth, creamy skin. The center of the stained glass art was an unfurling red rose. The sunlight shimmered, bathing her honey-blond hair, which was pulled back so appealingly in a long ponytail, in a blushing pink glow.
The sight was evocative enough to cause instant sweat to bead on his brow in spite of the temperate climate inside the hospital.
Sebastian had an almost irresistible urge to pull the clasp from her hair and run his fingers through those silky locks. He couldn’t pry his eyes off her and he had no idea why. He normally went for leggy redheads with big boobs, not diminutive waifs with vulnerable eyes. His heart literally skipped a beat and the unexpected reaction disturbed him. Usually the only time his pulse skittered was when he successfully steered a client’s reputation out of the skids.
His gaze dropped to the round curve of her breasts. Her name tag said
He glanced up.
Their gazes met.
Cemented.
She possessed the most interesting blue eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes the same color of the Pacific Ocean.
Her lips parted.
Sebastian gulped.
Quickly, she glanced away, but then a second later her gaze was on his again, assessing him with slow, deliberate intent until he began to feel like a bug under a microscope.
She narrowed her eyes, pressed her lips together in a firm line and crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”
He followed. At this point, he would have gone straight to hell if that’s where she was leading.
Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked quietly against the marble tile. The lemony smell of cleaning solution filled the air. His gaze fixated on the sway of her spectacular ass.
She took a key from her pocket, unlocked a heavy oak door, turned the handle and pushed inside. He went in with her and found himself standing in a state-of-the-art examination room. The leather exam table was obviously new and covered with crisp white butcher paper. The fixtures on the walls were shiny, polished chrome.
Was this where he’d be taking his meeting with the hospital’s owners? Unexpected, but okay. Or maybe she was just putting him in here while she went to round up the Confidential Rejuvenations executives.
He shrugged out of his raincoat and hung it on the coatrack beside the door. The room was bigger than a run-of-the-mill exam room, but still small. He turned and found himself face-to-face with her.
She stole his breath with a reassuring smile. The woman made him think of sunflowers and golden retriever puppies and hand-squeezed lemonade. Not a combo he’d ordinarily think of as sensual, but somehow she made wholesome look hot.
Sebastian was acutely aware of a steady strumming of sexual energy flowing from him to her and back again. Her impact was not the full-on whammy of a classic beauty, but instead it was more like the comforting appeal of hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows on an icy winter’s day.
Ah, there was the voice of reason struggling to break through the odd spell she’d cast over him. She possessed a certain earthy quality that called to something deep inside him. Something basic, raw and entirely new.
His pulse accelerated. Amazed by his body’s overt reaction, Sebastian had to clear his throat in order to speak. “I want…” Dammit, how could he think with her staring at him that way?
“Yes?” she coaxed, low-voiced as a priest in confessional.
What did he want? Sebastian frowned, yanked his gaze from her sweet lips and looked deeply into her blue eyes, fringed with long lashes. “Uh…”