Melanie Milburne - Italian Surgeon to the Stars

His eyes tethered mine in a lock that made my insides flutter as if a handful of flustered moths were trapped in the cavity of my stomach.

‘I thought it best for us to meet alone first,’ he said.

I didn’t think it was wise for me to ever be alone with him. I didn’t trust myself. He had a frightening way of dismantling my self-control with a look or a casual touch. My chin was still tingling from where his thumb had stroked. My wrist was still burning as if he had left a brand on my flesh. My inner core was still pulsating with the memory of how his body had moved within mine.

Again I wondered if he was remembering all we had shared in that brief mad fling I’d stupidly thought would last for ever.

His gaze was dark and bottomless … inscrutable, enigmatic. Mesmerising.

The sound of the second end-of-lunch bell startled me out of my stasis. ‘Excuse me,’ I said with a formal quirk of my lips that passed for a smile. ‘I have to get to class.’

He put out his hand, and because we were in full view of the school admin office, as well as Miss Fletcher’s office, I had no choice but to slide mine into it.

His fingers closed around mine in the same way they had before. There was nothing formal or polite about it. It was purely erotic. Wickedly, shamelessly erotic.

I drew my hand away from the temptation of his touch and turned and walked into the school building. But it was not until school finished that day that my hand finally stopped tingling.

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