The Nurse's Pregnancy Miracle Page 10

  With a groan of surrender he stepped forward and drew her unresisting form into his embrace. Looking into her stunning eyes, he tried to pull himself back from the brink, but couldn’t get his arms to release her, couldn’t back away.

  All good intentions fled as yearning for her overwhelmed him completely.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE’D SEEN HIS eyes serious, and seen them smiling. Nychelle even thought she’d seen them hot with passion. But now she knew what she’d experienced the night of the gala had been little more than warmth, since now they blazed.

  The joy and gratitude she’d felt on learning the IUI had been successful still swam in her veins, but now it was joined by a new kind of elation. One that sparked and zinged through every synapse, brought on by being held in David’s arms.

  An almost preternatural stillness fell; Nychelle couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and David seemed similarly afflicted. His face was frozen into an expression of such tender ferocity it caused tears to prickle the backs of her eyes. She’d never suspected how beautiful being looked at like that would make her feel, or how it would make her already powerful arousal spike to incendiary levels.

  Which one of them moved first was an immaterial question, lost in the wonder of David’s lips on hers, the passion of their kiss. He aligned their bodies so she fit snugly between his legs, and when his arms tightened around her Nychelle melted into him, bones and muscles going liquid with desire and pleasure.

  From the hard length of his erection pressing against her stomach there could be no doubt as to how much he wanted her. It was also in the tangle of their tongues, the way they devoured each other’s mouths.

  His strong hands slid down her back to grip her bottom and pull her even closer. The heat radiating from their bodies was a physical manifestation of the need flowing like lava between them. The want.

  There was no hesitation in their embrace. The way he held her was masterful, compelling, and she loved it. She’d never felt delicate or treasured in a man’s arms before, but somehow in David’s she did.

  A sound of passion broke from his throat, and the ache that had been building in her nipples, between her legs, intensified and became almost unbearable. And when his mouth left hers to slide down to her throat she gasped, echoing his delight. Finding the hem of her tunic top, he slid his hands beneath to find the bare skin of her back, causing her to arch, to rub against him, wanton under the spell of his lovemaking.

  “Nychelle...”

  It was a growl against her neck, causing a delicious shiver to climb her spine and bringing a little spasm of pleasure.

  “So beautiful. So sexy.”

  She’d have said the same about him, but words deserted her as his lips kissed and sucked with glorious effect along her skin. When his hands slid to her sides, his thumbs lightly caressing the curves of her breasts, she was already trembling, longing for even deeper contact. His mouth moved lower, to the sensitive curve where neck met shoulder, and she whispered a plea, arching to offer him her breasts, almost sobbing with relief when his palm brushed one nipple through her bra.

  Strong, tender fingers closed around her breast, caressing it, and his thumb rubbed back and forth across the straining peak. She worked at pulling his shirt from his pants then opening it, wanting skin-to-skin contact. He followed her lead, unbuttoning her tunic and pushing the edges aside. When he undid the front closure of her bra it crossed her mind that she’d never felt this aroused, especially this quickly, but the thought was lost in a burst of ecstasy when his lips closed around one oversensitized nipple. The draw of his mouth and the damp sweep of his tongue had her crying out softly, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

  “David!”

  “Yes,” he replied, causing cool air to rush over her flesh, bringing another, stronger tremor between her legs.

  Had she ever been this close to orgasm without a touch there? She didn’t think so. The craving grew, had her pressing against him, ready and willing for whatever came next, wanting more and more.

  He knew. How could he not know when she was being so blatant? Somehow one of his legs had made its way between hers and she rocked against it, getting closer and closer to coming with each undulation of her hips.

  “God...” It was a groan against her skin, and the vibrations traveled from his lips into her, driving her higher. “I have to—”

  David picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all. With a few long strides they were at the desk, and when he lowered her to sit on it Nychelle wrapped her legs around his waist.

  The opening notes of a nineties rap song reverberated through the room, the sound so jarring they both jumped.

  They froze as the cellphone ring tone stopped for an instant. When it started again David stepped back so quickly Nychelle rocked in place, almost sliding from the desk. Their gazes collided, and in his expression Nychelle read the same shock she knew was mirrored on her face.

  Tugging her tunic closed with one hand, she reached unthinkingly for the phone with the other. When David turned away and began buttoning his shirt she went cold with remorse—and something deeper. Sadder. The ringing phone had broken a beautiful erotic spell. One that should never have been cast.

  Taking a shuddering inhalation, she looked away, so he wouldn’t see the threatening tears.

  “Hey, Nychelle, what’s going on?”

  Martin’s voice made her realize she’d actually answered the phone, but it took her a moment to gather herself and reply. “N...nothing much.”

  “Is this a bad time? You sound like you’re busy.”

  Probably because she was holding the phone between her shoulder and chin while fumbling to refasten her bra. “No, it’s fine. What’s up?”

  “I just texted David Warmington, reminding him about my invitation to go out with the family this coming weekend, and I want you to come too. After all, he and I only met briefly once, before the gala. It’ll be good for him to have someone there he knows a little better.”

  Hearing his name made her automatically look toward David. Luckily he still had his back to her, but watching him straighten his clothing made her icy veins heat through.

  She quickly looked away. “I... I don’t think...”

  “Aw, come on, cuz.” Martin was using his wheedling voice—the one he knew she found hard to resist. “We’ve hardly seen you over the last few months. Leighann and MJ keep asking when you’ll be by.”

  “Let me get back to you on that, okay?”

  She’d finally got her tunic buttoned, but felt as if her bra was crooked. Even being fully dressed didn’t mitigate her deep discomfort. What the heck were they thinking, making out like teenagers on her desk? What the heck was she thinking, especially after the news she’d just received about her pregnancy?

  “I have some things I have to take care of before I can make a decision.”

  Things like making sure David Warmington agreed that what had just happened had been a huge mistake and wouldn’t happen again.

  No matter how much she wished it would.

  * * *

  His insides swirling with a mixture of arousal, surprise and self-recrimination, David moved over to the window in Nychelle’s office and stood looking out, trying to ignore the soft murmur of her voice.

  He wanted to leave—just take off without saying anything—but that would be the coward’s way out. Nychelle deserved better.

  And that was the whole truth of it. Nychelle deserved the very best life had to offer—everything a man had to give—and he didn’t have everything to give anymore. There was an important part of his heart and soul that was dead, killed by grief and fear. Or at the very least was locked away where no one could ever reach. Not even someone as amazing as Nychelle.

  And there was no way to explain that without exposing his pain, ripping away the thin scab over his wounds. As much a
s he wanted to crush whatever it was building between them once and for all, he wanted her sympathy even less. No. Best to simply pretend, once more, that it didn’t matter, and then make himself believe it didn’t.

  But, either way, he had to put a stop to this...this...

  His brain stumbled, unable or unwilling to find the appropriate word for the emotions and impulses that overcame him whenever Nychelle was near. All he knew was that they had to stop.

  The room was silent, and he realized she must have finished her call and hung up. He made his expression as stoic as he could, then turned to face her. Before he could speak she held up her hands, as though ready to push anything he said back at him.

  “Don’t.” She shook her head, her lips wavering into something that he figured was supposed to be a smile. “There’s no need to say it.”

  Perversely, now it appeared she was thinking along the same lines as he was, he had the sudden urge not to just let it go.

  “Say what?”

  “That what just happened was a mistake. Believe me, I agree wholeheartedly.” She straightened, taking on an air of dignity and resolve. “I’m not in the habit of leading men on. I’m also not in the habit of having casual sex.” She shrugged slightly before she added, “And that’s all I could offer you—sex that, even casual, could have unwanted repercussions for us both.”

  He wasn’t sure what “repercussions” she was worried about for herself, but knew what he needed to avoid. It would be so easy to fall for Nychelle, to begin craving her love...

  Spinning on his heel, he bent down to retrieve the folder, which he’d dropped in his eagerness to get closer to Nychelle. He really needed to get away—to think about what had happened. Being around Nychelle twisted his emotions into crazy knots and he needed to unravel them, to figure out exactly what to do. Yet it felt wrong. As though there was more that should be said.

  Before he could figure it out she slid off the desk and glanced down at the file in his hand. “So, did you want to talk to me about a patient?”

  Just like that the sensation of sharing something special vanished, leaving him strangely flat. When she circled her desk, staying as far away as possible, the small act of avoidance made his chest ache.

  “Yes.” He opened the file, gathering his composure. “Carmen’s tests are back.”

  “Anything unusual?”

  “Her iron levels are elevated. Not unusual in someone who just underwent a transfusion, but something I’d suggest we keep an eye on.”

  Nychelle sat in her chair and pulled it close to the desk, as though to put a physical barrier between them. “If you leave the results with me, I’ll forward them to the hematologist and make sure our notes are up to date.”

  She was rubbing her right wrist, and he took an impulsive step forward. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” Just the thought made him angry.

  “What? No. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re rubbing your wrist.” He remembered seeing her do it before, but this time it worried him. Reaching the desk, he held out his hand to her. “Let me see.”

  Immediately she stopped, dropping her hands to her lap. “It’s fine, David.”

  The snappish reply brought him up short. He wasn’t used to that from her.

  “It’s just a nervous habit from when I was a child. I broke my wrist one summer, and got used to rubbing it after the cast came off, when it ached. Nothing to worry about.”

  Somehow hearing her admit to her own disquiet made his dissipate slightly, and he nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Their eyes met, and the confusion in her gaze made that stupid ache in his chest expand. He wanted to comfort her, even as he acknowledged that it was the worst thing he could possibly do.

  She looked away, down at the file in his hand, and nodded toward the desk. “Leave it with me and I’ll deal with it.”

  “Thank you.” He set the file on her desk and without another word made his feet take him toward the door, even though they were inclined to stay exactly where they were.

  “David?”

  The soft sound of his name on her lips froze him in place, his hand grasping the door handle but not unlatching it. He didn’t turn, fearing looking at her, and felt the desire still thrumming through his veins despite it all. “Yes?”

  “That was Martin on the phone. He’s invited me to come along this weekend.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to say yes or no myself,” he replied. His knuckles were turning white from his tight grip on the handle. “If you don’t want to go, or don’t want me to go—”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just...”

  “You want to make sure it won’t be awkward?” Risking a glance back at her, he forced a small smile. “I can handle it. Can you?”

  “Yes. Of course.” She neither looked nor sounded convinced. “It’ll be...fun.”

  “Okay.” He opened the door and lifted his hand in farewell, eager to leave before he gave in to the impulse to ask her what she’d really wanted to say. “See you then, if not before.”

  But he hoped it wasn’t before. He wanted as much time as possible to exorcize his growing need and the agonizing desire he felt for Nychelle. Time to figure out how he could keep her friendship without losing his heart in the process.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “PINK EYE?” NYCHELLE plopped down onto her kitchen stool. “MJ has pink eye?”

  “Can you dig it?” Martin sounded harassed and annoyed. “Woke up with it this morning—on the first day of summer vacation, to boot.”

  “Oh, no. What about Leighann?”

  “So far, so good, and we’re doing everything we can to stop her from contracting it. Jennifer’s been running around with antiseptic wipes all morning. Martin Tremaine Girvan Junior!” Martin suddenly shouted, the bellow only slightly muffled by what Nychelle suspected was him pointing the phone at his son. “Do. Not. Scratch. Your. Eye. Mom will be back in a minute with some drops to make it stop itching.”

  Nychelle chuckled, suppressing it when he said, “He’s driving us crazy—alternately whining, rubbing his eye, and threatening to infect his sister. We’re supposed to be going on vacation in ten days, but if Leighann gets it we may have to cancel.”

  “Hopefully that won’t happen.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear,” Martin grumbled. “Just coordinating a vacation with our schedules is hard enough. And, speaking of canceling, I was planning to take you and David out on the boat today, but I can’t risk taking MJ anywhere. Not fair to leave Jen here to suffer by herself either.”

  Nychelle stared out the window, biting her lip as a combination of disappointment and relief swirled through her. “Well, it can’t be helped. Taking care of your family is the most important thing. We’ll go out another time.”

  “I don’t want to disappoint David.”

  There were a few more moments of muffled shouting, and Nychelle figured the phone was clasped to her cousin’s chest this time, so she wouldn’t hear the threats he was making to his son.

  “Sorry about that. This boy is a menace.”

  “He’s eight. What do you expect? At that age you were a pain too.”

  “I was not.”

  Nychelle chuckled at his lofty tone.

  “I was a perfect little paragon. All right. All right.” He interrupted her laughter to get back to what he was saying. “We can’t go out on the boat, but I went ahead and bought two tickets for you guys to take the river taxi. It’ll be a good way for you to show David more of the city without having to think about parking.”

  “I’m sure he won’t mind if you have to cancel—”

  “I already talked to him and told him you were willing to go.”

  “What? Without talking to me first?”

  Martin obviously wasn’t listening to her. If he had been he surely would have heard
the outrage in her voice and put even a hint of remorse into his reply. Instead, he just said, “I knew you wouldn’t mind. I’ll email you the tickets, and he’ll come to pick you up at ten.”

  Nychelle clenched her teeth to hold back her instinctive refusal. Would she never get away from this man? Well, maybe that was too harsh. David was the one man she both craved and was afraid to be around. How many times had she decided it would be best to avoid him, only to end up in his presence almost immediately thereafter?

  “It’ll be fun.” Ironic to have Martin quoting her own words back at her. “He seems like a nice guy. Don’t you think so?”

  “Yes, he’s a nice guy.” Resigned to her fate, she sighed. “It’s fine. Take care of the family.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, Nych. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

  “Okay. Will do.”

  Almost before she’d finished speaking Martin was hollering at MJ again as he hung up.

  Putting the phone down on the counter, Nychelle rubbed her suddenly aching temple.

  Two days before, she’d finally given in to the need to speak to someone about David and told Aliya what had happened between them.

  “The timing isn’t optimal,” her cousin had said. “But I guess the real question is, what do you want to do about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Nychelle had confessed, tears welling. “I’m confused.”

  For two people who claimed to want to be friends, David and she constantly seemed willing—no, determined to put strain on their relationship. Making out like teenagers. Blowing hot and cold. Hiding from each other instead of coming clean.

  Well, okay, that last one was all her. And, while she’d agreed that it would be wise for them both to forget what had happened in her office, she found herself thinking and dreaming about making love with David all the time. Then getting angry with herself.

  Since meeting him she’d been a mass of contradictions and seesawing emotions.

  Which was why she knew she had to stop seeing him.

  “You have feelings for him.” Aliya hadn’t asked, simply stated it as a fact. “I know you, and you wouldn’t have been making out with him if you didn’t.”