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She turned and walked away, down to the bedroom.
Before he heard the door click shut he’d swear she said, ‘Not today.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
SLEEP WOULD BE impossible now. Steph shoved her legs into her jeans, jerked them up, tugged her jersey over her head and dragged a brush through her hair. Her skin was hot, her mouth soft where Michael’s lips had touched hers. Her body throbbed persistently.
Why had she pulled away?
Certainly not because she hadn’t wanted his kiss. Quite the opposite. She hadn’t been able to get enough.
Her finger touched her mouth, circled slowly. The man only had to kiss her to turn her into a blithering wreck. But wasn’t that what she wanted? Yes. Definitely. And more.
So why was she taking Zac for a walk instead? When she’d decided to make a play for Michael? To try and win him over?
He’d been kissing her as if he meant to go through with the promise of hot, knee-melting, mind-blanking sex. But she didn’t want sex with Michael. She wanted to make love. Yes, he had been right there, on the same line, but he was aiming to have sex, not make love.
Short-term for Michael. For ever for her.
‘Zac,’ she called as she made her way to the front door, avoiding the kitchen where she presumed Michael still sat. Or not.
What did it matter? He didn’t need her fussing over his leg at the moment. Sometimes she’d swear he didn’t want her helping at all. But that could be because of what hung in the air between them, what had burst out into the open minutes ago. Did she affect him as he did her? He couldn’t have been thinking straight or he’d never have kissed her in the first place. Having sex or making love would be impossible with that leg.
A gentle head-butt to her thigh brought her back to reality. A walk with the dog, not hanging out with Michael, was the order of the morning. Then maybe she’d actually go to bed—alone—and get some shut-eye. Otherwise the night ahead would be long and taxing.
They headed out to the road. In her hurry to get away Steph had forgotten to grab her car keys, but no way was she going back inside to that kitchen for them. Because of her cowardice Zac would not be getting to run free this morning. A few laps of the block was his lot. Not that he looked unhappy. Did this dog even do unhappy? He whimpered in his sleep, yet never pined at the door for his previous owner, or tried to head towards his old home when they were out walking.
Maybe there was a lesson for her in there somewhere.
Steph upped her pace, stretching out her legs, puffing short breaths into the chilly air. She should’ve worn a jacket. Not going back for that either.
Michael and his kisses were something else. Until now she’d thought she’d do anything to get more, to have the whole follow-up thing between the sheets, or in the shower, over the table.
Seemed she didn’t know herself very well.
Seemed she wasn’t prepared to sell her soul to get her man.
No, apparently she was going to have to find another way to his heart.
* * *
Remember Stephanie mightn’t stay in Auckland very long, despite her protestations to the contrary.
Michael stood up slowly, easing the kinks out of his body, but not the heat and tension from his groin. That was taking a while to die down, mocking him from below.
He swore, reminding himself that he hadn’t been the one to pull away. Stephanie had. When her blood had been pounding through her veins and desire had gleamed in her eyes, softened her mouth, tightened that already firm body. He cursed her for being the wise one. Because, whichever way he looked at it, he shouldn’t have been kissing her—let alone thinking of heading to his bedroom with her.
Blaming her made him feel like a heel when he wanted to feel better about himself. Gratitude should be filling his tense body—not unresolved need for Stephanie.
More need than sex.
Michael jerked, and swore again as his thigh complained in the only way it knew how. No, he did not want a relationship that he couldn’t walk away from at any time. Not with Stephanie. What about sex with friendship thrown in? Yeah. Right. Like that was going to happen. He couldn’t do that to either of them.
Opening the pantry, he glared around at the shelves, banged the doors shut in frustration. The cupboards were bare except for toddler food. Likewise the fridge and freezer. When had he got so slack he didn’t do a proper grocery shop?
Digging in a drawer, he found a pad and pen. Time to get his act together—turn this place into a home, not a dosshouse for toddlers, paramedics and out-of-order doctors.
* * *
‘What are you doing?’
Michael gritted his teeth as he knotted his shoelace tight. He hadn’t heard Stephanie return. Zac had let him down—no head-butting to warn him.
‘Getting ready to go shopping.’
And he’d taken a bath—carefully, not wanting to end up sprawled across the floor and unable to get up on his own.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Annoyance tightened her mouth. ‘You’re meant to be resting that leg, remember?’
‘There’s the rest of the day for that. Right now I need some groceries.’ He nodded at the pad on the table. ‘Quite a few. I’ve ordered a taxi to take me to the supermarket and hang around until I’m done.’
Which could take for ever if his leg didn’t play ball.
‘Cancel it. I’ll get these.’
‘You need sleep. I’ll manage. Anyway I like to do my own shopping.’
I do? Since when?
Since one stubborn woman had started shaking her head at him and picking up his list.
‘Which company did you call?’
She dug her phone out of the backside-outlining pocket of her jeans.
‘If I can’t do it for you then I’m going with you. It will be a lot more comfortable in your car, and since this list is longer than your arm you might want to take a break—at which point I can finish the job while you wait outside.’
‘I hate it when you’re right.’ He picked up his phone and called the taxi company.
You give in too easily, mate.
Yeah, well, he was learning there was no other way with Stephanie. Especially when she made a load of sense—which she did too often for comfort.
‘What about your sleep? I don’t want you zoning out ov
er a patient tonight because of me.’
‘I’ll be fine. I can catch some zeds this afternoon. If it’s all right with you I’ll stop in at my house on the way back for a couple of things I need.’
‘No problem.’
He liked it that she didn’t gloat when she’d won. He liked a lot of things about her. Including the backside he was following out to his car. Most of all he liked having her back in town, in his life. Though could he trust that to be anything more than temporary?
When she’d left the department and Auckland he’d been bereft. Not to mention guilt-laden, believing he’d been instrumental in her decision to go. It had hurt despite it being his own fault. And that had been after only two weeks together.
Would he do it again if their feelings escalated into another fling? Cut her off before they got too involved? Yes—without a doubt. That was how he protected himself. Last time Stephanie had done a runner. Never to be heard of again by him until now.
Except that wasn’t true...
His mind flashed to the card tucked in the back of a drawer in his desk down in the spare room he called an office when Aaron wasn’t sleeping in there. A card with a scrawled message of congratulations for qualifying as an emergency specialist last year, signed Steph followed by three ‘X’s. Not hot, take me kisses like those that sometimes followed him into sleep, but kisses that evoked memories he didn’t like to acknowledge.
As he buckled his seatbelt his phone rang. Chantelle. Was she working tonight? Needing him to look after Aaron as per usual? He could give it a crack...
Kidding yourself, mate. Being irresponsible. What if you fall and can’t get up? How’s that looking out for Aaron?
Frustration made him groan. ‘Hey, Chantelle. How’s your day going?’
‘Great. Remember that exam I sat last week? I got top marks.’
‘Go, you! That’s fantastic.’ Pride filled his chest and he turned to Stephanie. ‘Chantelle got top marks in her law paper last week.’
Stephanie leaned close and said loudly, ‘Congratulations, Chantelle. Brilliant result.’
