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‘You did that deliberately,’ she said irritably, though he noticed that for all her objection she remained in the light circle of his arm, though she could have pushed him away if she’d really wanted to.
It only served to fuel Louis’s desire. He could tell himself that this was all part of his plan and that he was still in control, but he knew that somewhere along the line, that had ceased to be entirely true. He could no more explain this attraction as he could fight it. He’d been attracted to women—plenty of women, though nowhere near in the disgusting numbers that the papers so deliriously hypothesised—but never like this. Never on a level that he knew wasn’t merely about the physical.
‘I can’t seem to help myself,’ he drawled, his tone intended to conceal just how unexpectedly close to the truth that statement was.
Even now, as his eyes took in the rapid pulse at her neck, the stain of lust spreading over her skin, the sudden huskiness in her voice, doing something as simple as drawing a breath suddenly became an arduous hindrance.
He leaned forward and she stepped back. Right up against the stone balustrade, allowing him to place an arm on each side and effectively cage her.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered. Hardly a protestation of his position. Still, he needed to be sure.
‘Making sure you don’t run away.’
‘I’m not running away.’ He recognised that hoarse desire in her voice. He’d heard it plenty of times before. But never with anyone who made him as hard as she did.
Like he was some hormone-charged teenager.
‘You know my reputation,’ he ground out. ‘You should be running.’
‘I know your reputation,’ she concurred. ‘But right now I don’t know anyone else who can help me stop your father.’
It was hardly the rebuttal he realised a part of him had been hoping for. As if he hoped she might see past the bad-boy exterior to the honourable man he knew had probably died a long time ago.
Pathetic really.
Louis had never wanted, never sought anyone else’s approval. He would leave that to his father. Though how he was the only person to see through his old man’s veneer to see that he’d only set up the Delaroche Foundation as a way to earn himself a knighthood, he would never understand. Let Jean-Baptiste revel in his unearned glories as much as the vainglorious old man wanted.
His mother would surely laugh out loud to know that Rainbow House was still a thorn in her husband’s side. Even now.
It was only when he caught Alex watching him curiously, his arms still trapping her in place, that he remembered himself, and banished the unwelcome thoughts from his head.
He pushed backwards, releasing her with a theatrical flourish, exultant when she didn’t go anywhere.
‘So, Dr Alexandra Vardy, how about it?’ He flashed her a wolfish smile, playing the habitually drunk playboy role for all he was worth. After all, why else would a bad boy like him make such a ridiculous suggestion? ‘Want to marry me and stop my father from committing any more of his dastardly deeds?’
CHAPTER THREE
‘SOMEONE PAGED ME?’ Louis burst through the doors of the pre-op room, taking in the unfolding events in one careful sweep.
‘I did. I suspect an anaphylactic reaction in your patient,’ Alex answered quickly but calmly, her attention going straight back to the patient in front of her even as she addressed the anaesthetic technician. ‘Freddie, let’s set up an IV. Start with eight milligrams of dexamethasone and point one milligrams of adrenalin.’
‘What happened?’ Louis stepped over quickly without, she just had time to notice, getting in the way of her staff.
Surprisingly he didn’t wade in, but waited silently for her to finish issuing her brief, perfunctory instructions to her team.
It could be no coincidence that she had suddenly been assigned as part of Louis’s on-call team tonight. She’d been avoiding him for two days since she’d walked—though she still had no idea how her legs had kept her upright after his audacious marriage suggestion—away from away him.
Clearly, this was his way of flexing his authoritative muscle. An irrefutable demonstration of the power he wielded in this hospital. She’d spent the last few hours enacting scenarios in her head in which she had confronted him about it. But right now it definitely wasn’t the time.
‘The patient was clearly hypovolaemic when she was brought in,’ Alex informed him. ‘She was clammy in appearance and tachycardic.’
‘She presented in the emergency department a couple of hours ago following a salpingo-oophorectomy three days ago,’ confirmed Louis. ‘All signs led the resus team to suspect intra-abdominal bleeding, which was when they referred her to us.’
Cool, professional, approachable. No hint that he even remembered what had happened between them on that balcony. How she had been within a hair’s breadth of kissing him, of letting him kiss her. If he’d pushed it that tiny bit further, she knew she would have.
Every spare moment since, she’d wondered why he hadn’t.
Was it insane that every time she’d thought of him, a gurgle of laughter had rumbled within her?
