The Surgeon's One Night to Forever Read online

  Cort’s gaze scoured her face for what seemed an eternity until he said, “I’d like that.”

  After changing into their street clothing, they caught a cab to her townhome, and she led him up the steps to her door. Suddenly clumsy, she fumbled her keys, almost dropping them, before fitting the correct one into the lock.

  They stepped inside into the darkened hall, lit only by a small nightlight she kept burning for those times she came in late.

  As she reached for the light switch, his hand caught hers and he pulled her back into his arms.

  No words now, just the hot, hard pressure of his lips on hers, the almost frantic embrace. Hands finding fastenings, sweeping over flesh, holding on, pulling closer.

  For a moment it was like being swept back in time to Mexico, when the power of their attraction had been purely carnal, and there had been no barriers between them.

  No need to hide, to protect herself against him, since she’d been sure she’d never see him again.

  The first night he had taken her with such concentrated passion she’d been forced to run the next morning, unwilling, perhaps even unable to face him in the morning light.

  Now, though, she knew him, had every reason in the world to pull up the drawbridge and secure her emotions in the stone castle of her heart.

  But it was impossible to do that tonight.

  Her resistance had melted away as he’d held her on the roof, as though trying to shelter her from pain. Everyone always assumed she was capable of handling anything and everything life threw at her. It had been that way all her life, with her family, Andrew, even her friends. They assumed the cool, tough façade she wore went right down to her soul, so rarely did anyone ask if she was okay, if she needed them, their strength or understanding.

  Cort hadn’t just asked, he’d given it freely, and turned her heart upside down at the same time.

  Now she knew she’d never be able to close him out completely again and, instead of being terrified, she was elated. A strange new power seemed to flow through her blood and bones and sinews.

  She wanted Cort, more than she’d ever wanted him before.

  “Liz,” he growled, as she pushed his shirt off over his head. “Which way?”

  Without a word, she led him into her living room, turning on a lamp as she went.

  “Sit.” She pointed to the couch.

  Cort sank down onto it as ordered, and held out one hand.

  “Join me.”

  “Shush,” she said, standing in front of him, imbued with the need to make him as crazy as he always made her. “In a minute.”

  He’d always taken the lead in their lovemaking, and she’d enjoyed every moment of it, but tonight felt different. Cort had cracked her emotions open like a clamshell, and she wanted to pour them out all over him. That wasn’t part of their bargain, though, so the physical fulfillment of that need would have to suffice.

  She undressed slowly, revealing her body to him, watching as his eyes darkened to gleaming black. As she took off each article of clothing she remembered how he’d touched her, making her feel beautiful with the purposeful movement of his fingers, the sweep of his palm, the forcefulness of his embrace. His strength matched and complemented her own, so she never felt overpowered, simply feminine as he urged her to new heights of desire and ecstasy.

  As the last article of clothing fell, she trembled, almost unbearably aroused by the expression of need tightening his face, the way his eyes burned as they moved with delicious intent across her body.

  He held out his hands to her, but she shook her head, taking a step forward to kneel between his thighs. She was surprised to realize her fingers were steady as she reached for the button on his waistband.

  “Wait,” she said. “Let me...”

  The rasp of his zipper going down was loud in the room, where the only other sounds were their breathing. He shifted to help her pull his pants and underwear down and off, and then he settled against the back of the couch once more.

  “Now?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.

  “Almost,” she replied, as she put his clothing aside.

  He obviously wasn’t prepared for the swipe of her tongue along the length of his erection, if the hiss of his breath was any indication. The sound of Cort groaning her name pushed her own desire even higher, but she didn’t relent in the attention she lavished on him. Beneath her fingers his powerful thigh muscles tensed, coiling tight, yet the hand he placed on her head was gentle, not insistent.

  “Liz.” The rasp of his voice was like music to her ears. “Babe, please.”

  She’d taken him to the edge, and now she eased him down tenderly, letting him catch his breath for a moment. Lifting her head, she found him looking down at her, his eyes barely open, his face flushed and damp.

  With a little moan of surrender she rose to straddle him, taking him deep, shuddering at the way he filled her completely. Body. Mind. Soul.

  It was sublime, with a bitter-sweet edge that made it even more precious and arousing.

  Rising and falling, slowly rocking, she took them both back to the edge, then her movements becoming frantic, demanding.

  “Wait,” he gasped.

  But she didn’t listen. She knew he’d reached the end of his control, and reveled in the knowing.

  Then he slipped his hand between their bodies, and touched her in just the right way.

  And they flew.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CORT SAT AT the table, watching Liz as she moved with her usual calm efficiency around the kitchen, putting together a snack for them to share. Music played in the background, and she hummed along. Neither of them seemed inclined to speak, and that suited Cort fine just then.

  Something had changed between them. He felt it, like embers in the air, stinging his skin, making it hard to breathe. Liz didn’t seem affected, her demeanor unaltered.

  So the change must be in him.

  Memories of their lovemaking filled his head like smoke. Although satiated, his body stirred anew thinking about the way she’d made love to him, taking control, making him lose his. In a strange way he felt it as another form of her surrender, the power of it entering his bones, pushing him across an emotional line from which there was no return.

  Goose bumps rose on his arms and along his spine, and he forced those thoughts away, unwilling, unable to face them just then.

  Theirs was not a traditional relationship. The boundaries had been firmly established. Neither of them was looking for any kind of commitment, and he would be moving on in a few short months. He hoped that when he did, the friendship they’d developed would endure. Perhaps there’d be visits, as he passed through New York on his way somewhere else, birthday and Christmas cards, telephone conversations in between. That was the best-case scenario, in his mind, so why did thinking that way make him feel melancholy, as though the end was about to come tonight?

  To distract himself, Cort looked around the huge kitchen, his gaze settling on a photograph on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. It was of a young, blond man, smiling into the camera as though he were the master of all that lay before him. Was that the man who had broken Liz’s heart, who’d left her unwilling to trust, to believe in love again?

  “That’s my brother, Robbie.” There was no mistaking the fondness in her voice. “He was about twenty-one when that was taken. He was always such a party animal, it still seems surreal to think about him getting married.”

  She’d talked about the upcoming wedding, and he’d heard the ambivalence in her voice, but hadn’t pried. Before today she’d been so private, hoarding personal information like a dragon with its gold, so her family situation was still a mystery to him.

  Now somehow it seemed okay to ask, “Do you like his fiancée?”

  “I do. She’s been good for him. You’d think, with him being
in finance and Giovanna a fashion model, he’d be the more grounded, but it’s the opposite way around.”

  Turning from the chopping block, where she was cutting cheese into squares, she gave him one of her penetrating looks.

  “Did I ever tell you that Robbie was adopted?”

  Surprised and intrigued, he replied, “No, you didn’t.”

  “I was about five and he was two when he came to live with us and, to me, it was as though he belonged as much as, if not more than, I did. I can safely say he’s my best friend, and was from that first day we met.”

  Cort was glad she’d turned back to her chore, not looking at his face. Hearing her say how much she loved her brother caused him a totally unreasonable flash of jealousy, which he was sure showed in his expression before he got it under control.

  It must be the stress of the day, making him react that way.

  “Here’s the thing,” she continued. “A few years ago Robbie meets Giovanna, and he falls like a rock. He chases her all over the world, wherever she’s modeling, until she agrees to marry him. Then he goes to my parents and finally asks about his birth parents.”

  “He hadn’t before?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’d have to know Robbie, and my parents, to understand why it took that long. My parents don’t talk about feelings, about emotion, or any part of the past that isn’t perfectly respectable. It’s ill bred, common.”

  The emphasis she put on the word actually made him smile. She’d sounded like an old schoolteacher.

  “And Robbie...well...he’s the complete opposite of me, really. He’s friendly, charming, outgoing, smiles all the time. He doesn’t like to rock the boat, wants everyone to be happy.”

  The knife in her hand stilled for a moment then she shrugged lightly.

  “I think he just figured if they’d wanted to tell him, they would have. Anyway, he finally asks about his parents, and it turns out he’s actually my father’s child. The product of an affair Dad had not long after my mother had me.”

  He hadn’t seen that one coming, and felt his eyebrows go up.

  She gave him a sideways look over her shoulder. “Right? So, you see, I’m still a little...upset with my father. What kind of man has an affair when his wife just had a baby?”

  Cort was still trying to process what she’d told him. “And your mom knew your brother was actually your father’s child?”

  “Yes. Isn’t that insane? I wish I could understand how it all came about. It’s really eaten at me since I heard, and I haven’t really spoken to my father since.”

  “I know you said your parents don’t talk about things, but can’t you ask them?”

  Her sigh almost broke his heart.

  “I know it won’t make a difference. My mom looked so frightened when she talked about it, and Dad just walked away. They haven’t even told Robbie the full story, only that when his birth mother got sick and was dying, my mom agreed to take him in. Honestly, she’s treated him as though he were her own, without any reservations. They’re actually closer than my mom and I are.”

  That gave him pause, as he worked it all through in his head.

  Why was she so angry at her father for something that had happened so long ago? It hadn’t destroyed her family. In fact, she’d ended up with a sibling she obviously adored. Remembering how upset Liz had been with the young stabbing victim who was still worried about the man who’d almost killed her, he had to ask.

  “You’re not angry with your mother?”

  Laying down the knife, she busied herself with arranging everything on a platter.

  “I always thought of my mom as being delicate, you know? I couldn’t be the daughter she wanted, so I try not to hurt her any more than I have to, and my being angry with her would hurt her horribly.”

  When he was young he’d longed for a family, believing it would be like in the TV shows. Of course, as he’d grown older he’d realized relationships weren’t as simple as portrayed in the media, but the complexity of Liz’s family made his head swim a little.

  One thing was obvious, though. Liz somehow saw herself as a disappointment to her mother, which seemed crazy to Cort. What mother wouldn’t love to have a beautiful, successful woman like Liz as their child? He also wondered if Liz saw her mother’s actions in forgiving her husband and accepting his child into her family as a weakness. It made sense, considering Liz’s overall view of love.

  “I think,” he said slowly, “your mother is probably a lot stronger than you give her credit for. I mean, she has to be, to have forgiven your father and treated your brother the way she has. Why not ask her, let her explain what happened? At least then you can maybe put it behind you.”

  Still with her back to him, Liz muttered, “It wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be, especially since you say talking things through isn’t your family’s way, but it might be the best thing. For you, at any rate.”

  Which was all he really cared about anyway.

  Finally she turned and walked over to the table, carrying the platter, her noncommittal expression one he knew well.

  “Let’s eat,” was all she said.

  * * *

  Everything had changed, but Liz was determined not to let Cort see. As usual busying herself, being useful, allowed her to avoid revealing her emotional state, which was frankly chaotic.

  The entire day had taken its toll on her, but she didn’t regret any of it, just didn’t want to think too deeply about what was happening to her feelings for Cort right now.

  Better to do that when she was alone.

  In the meantime, talking about Robbie and her family helped to take the edge off. Cort had a way of cutting through to the heart of things, she mused as they munched their way through the platter of cold cuts, antipasto, vegetables, cheeses and crusty bread.

  While she’d been concentrating on being angry with her father, it was just a way to avoid acknowledging it was her mother she really needed to speak to.

  It all just seemed so complicated, and she sometimes found herself wishing Robbie had never asked about his origins. Yet she could completely understand his need to know, and felt selfish whenever she had those thoughts.

  “Have you ever tried to find your parents?”

  She saw Cort stiffen, and then his shoulders relaxed fractionally, and he shook his head.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Never wanted to?”

  “When we were younger, Brody and I used to talk about it, trying to decide whether to do it or not. In his case, he’d lived with his mother until she died, when he was eight. His father was never in the picture, and he figured it was probably for the best. Who knew what he’d dig up, trying to find out? In my case, I couldn’t see the upside to finding the people who tossed me out with the trash, you know?”

  As nonchalant as he tried to sound, she heard the residual pain in his voice. Who could blame him? She’d guess it was something he’d had to reconcile himself to, even if it had been the most hurtful thing anyone could do.

  “I understand, but you’re stronger than I am. My curiosity would have gotten the best of me.”

  “In one respect I gave in to my curiosity. I got my DNA tested, for medical purposes, a couple years ago. Well, that and because I was tired of people asking me what my ancestry was.” He smiled slightly. “People would ask me if I’m Hispanic, Brazilian, Native American, Italian. Hell, when I was in the army there was a Filipino guy who could have been my brother. And, before you ask, no, he actually wasn’t my brother. I checked.”

  Filipino, Italian, Native American, Hispanic. Yes, she could see him fitting into any of those groups.

  “So, what was the result?”

  “I’m almost exactly one half Native American and one half European, mostly Irish.”

&n
bsp; “Exactly half?” That was strange.

  “Yep, pretty much.”

  She turned over all she knew about DNA testing in her head. “It’s a shame it can’t pinpoint a tribe, isn’t it?”

  Cort shrugged, but she read tension in the set of his shoulders. “Not really. It’s not that important.”

  “Hmm. I asked Robbie what had prompted him to want to find out about his birth parents, and he just said, “Everybody wants to know where they come from so they can figure out where to go.” Pretty profound, for my knucklehead brother, but it made sense to me.”

  Cort swallowed the last of his bread smeared with Brie before he replied.

  “Everybody needs something different in life, I guess.”

  Like she needed the stability of Hepplewhite and New York City, and he need the adventure of traveling around.

  “True,” she replied, trying to ignore the ache in her chest at that admission.

  “So, are you going to talk to your mom about what happened?”

  “Maybe after the wedding. Everything is too crazy right now.” She was prevaricating, and even she realized it.

  Cort gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’d probably enjoy the wedding more if you got past it, though. Nothing like unspoken tension to ruin a happy occasion.”

  He was right, of course, but she knew she wouldn’t.

  “There’s too much going on, getting ready for the wedding. Mom’s already in a tailspin. Throwing that at her right now would be downright unkind.”

  She ruminated on her own cowardice for a moment, but then an idea hit her, and made her heart race.

  For too long she’d run from emotions, feelings, happiness. Lied to herself that she didn’t need anyone. Today had, if nothing else, shown how good it could be to have someone to lean on, even if just for a little while.

  Until Cort left New York, or decided to end their affair, he was hers, and she didn’t want to deny herself the pleasure of being with him. While others made her doubt herself, something about him made her feel stronger than she ever had before. She would take advantage of that for as long as she could.