Page 109 of Kisses at Sunset


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‘Very.’ His eyes settled on her mouth and then lifted to her face. ‘Very hungry.’

Suddenly breathing seemed like hard work. ‘You know what I meant…’

‘Unfortunately, yes.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh and rose to his feet. ‘I don’t need food if that’s what you’re offering. I need my bed. Preferably with you in it.’

A vision of what it would be like to be in bed with him floated through her brain. ‘Sean—’

‘Come with me.’ His voice was husky and he held his good hand, the message in his eyes quite clear.

‘I can’t.’

He reached down and pulled her to her feet. ‘Yes, you can.’

‘No.’

He lowered his head, his mouth tantalisingly close to hers. ‘Yes…’

The anticipation of his kiss was almost too much, so that when it came she gave a cry of relief and opened her mouth under the pressure of his. This time he kissed her slowly and gently, without the desperate intensity of their previous encounter, but the effect on her highly tuned senses was the same. His tongue seduced hers with a wicked skill until she gave a little cry and struggled to get closer to him. His good arm clamped her against him and she lifted her hands to his hard chest, feeling the strength there before slipping her arms up over the broad shoulders and round his neck.

His muffled curse made her step back, her head swimming and her breathing uneven as she watched him rub his injured hand ruefully. Dear God, what was she doing? How could she say no to a man and then kiss him like that?

‘On second thoughts, maybe I will go to bed alone.’ Sean brushed her lower lip with his thumb, his smile wry as he glanced at his injured hand. ‘When I make love to you I want to have two hands to do it.’

Ally should have been protesting again, denying that it would ever happen, but after the way he’d just made her feel she wasn’t capable of saying anything, let alone what she should be saying. So instead she just stood there, her eyes confused, and let him walk away.

* * *

The first thing Ally did on Monday morning was to phone Mr Gordon about Jenny Monroe’s leg, and was relieved to find him as helpful as she remembered from previous referrals.

‘I removed the whole lesion. As you know, the Breslow thickness is still the most useful single indicator of prognosis and Jenny’s tumour had only just started to invade the dermis.’ The Breslow thickness measured how deeply the tumour had spread into the skin, and it seemed that Jenny’s had been removed before it started invading the fatty layer.

Ally tapped her pen on the desk and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘So that’s good news, then, isn’t it?’

‘Absolutely.’ The consultant sounded as pleased as she felt. ‘Obviously I need to follow her up to keep an eye on the scar, and she needs periodic total skin examinations to check for further primary lesions, but basically she should be fine.’

Al

ly grinned down the phone. ‘Thanks, Mr Gordon—I’m so relieved for her.’

He gave a soft laugh. ‘Me, too. She’s a nice lady.’

Ally replaced the phone and called Jenny immediately, simplifying what the plastic surgeon had said but making it clear that the tumour had been caught very early.

When she was satisfied that Jenny understood the situation and had been reassured, she buzzed through to Helen to let her know she was ready to start her surgery.

‘Mr Thompson is here to see you,’ Helen’s voice came through the intercom. ‘Your nine o’clock isn’t here yet—can you see him now?’

So he’s decided to do something about it, Ally thought, her heart lifting for Mary. ‘Yes, send him in.’

Geoff Thompson entered, looking desperately uncomfortable and embarrassed, and more than a little peaky.

‘Hello, Mr Thompson.’ Ally gave him a quiet smile and gestured for him to sit down.

‘I can’t believe you can still manage to smile at me after what I did,’ he mumbled, rubbing his lined forehead with his large hands.

‘You need help, Mr Thompson,’ Ally said gently, ‘and I assume that’s why you’re here.’

‘Mary and I talked all Sunday. I’ve never done it before, you know.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Never. I’ve never hit Mary before. Oh, I’ve been drunk more than I can remember but I’ve never hit her. I’m just not like that…’

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