Rochelle Alers - Breakaway

Celia’s head came around and she stared at him. “Why don’t you want to talk about yourself?”

Gavin’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I just answered all of your questions, Celia.”

“Not all of them.”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “What else do you need to know?”

“Were you ever married?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

“How old are you, Gavin?”

He chuckled softly. “Now, if I’d asked you your age you would’ve told me to mind my own damn business.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. How old are you, Celia?”

“I’ll turn thirty-four in August.”

Gavin’s gaze shifted to the lighted GPS screen. They were less than ten miles from the animal hospital. “I thought you were younger. I’m thirty-seven.”

“Do you like women?”

His deathlike grip on the wheel tightened. “Hell, yeah, I like women. Why would you ask me that?”

“Unmarried at thirty-seven. I was just checking.” Celia averted her head so he wouldn’t see her smile.

Gavin relaxed his grip, realizing Celia was just testing him when he saw her shoulders move. So, he mused, the doctor did have a sense of humor. She’d been sharp-tongued and all business when she’d shouted orders at him the night before.

“You think I’m gay?”

“No, Gavin. The thought never crossed my mind.”

“And if I was?”

“I’d still want you to be my date for Saturday. Someone’s sexual proclivity has no bearing on me. Once consenting adults close the door to the bedroom they can do whatever they want.”

Gavin’s opinion of Celia went up appreciably. She was pretty, smart and open-minded. His role as an undercover agent left little or no time for a normal relationship with a woman. The few long-term relationships he’d had usually ended when he wasn’t willing to take it to a level that included marriage and children. He’d submitted a request for a desk position, and if or when it was approved he would consider marrying and starting a family.

“Do you like men?” he asked.

The seconds ticked as Celia stared through the windshield. “Yes, I do. Why?”

Resting his right arm over the back of her seat, Gavin ran his fingers over the nape of her neck. “Just checking.”

He wasn’t disappointed when she turned to smile at him, neither aware of the invisible web of awareness making them willing captives.

Reaching for Celia’s hand, Gavin held it protectively in his strong grasp as he led her across the animal hospital’s parking lot. Her brow had knitted in consternation when the veterinarian who’d examined Terry recommended keeping the terrier for at least three days. He’d complimented Celia’s surgical skills and reassured her that Terry’s chances of survival were very good. The canine’s treatment plan included pain management and IV feeding.

Leaning down from his superior height, Gavin pressed his mouth to her ear. “I thought we were going to share Terry.”

Celia shivered slightly from his moist breath. “We are.”

“That’s not possible when you registered him as Terry Thomas, not Terry Thomas-Faulkner.”

She didn’t know whether to sucker punch Gavin or laugh for his teasing her. She did the latter. “You know you’re a little crazy.”

“I’m serious, Celia.”

“What are you going to do with a dog when you’re off protecting the world’s powerful elite?”

“The same could be said for you when you’re practicing medicine.”

“But I’m not practicing medicine. I’m on leave, and if or when I return I’ll have someone take care of him.”

Slowing his stride to accommodate Celia’s shorter legs, Gavin dropped her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. He felt a modicum of guilt because he knew facts about Celia she’d probably forgotten or wasn’t aware of.

He wondered whether she knew that her late fiancé had fathered a son at seventeen. The baby’s mother had given him up for adoption. Trevor-Jones had another secret. Although he’d been caught cheating in high school, his family’s name, money and clout got the charge expunged from his permanent records.

Gavin didn’t know whether Celia’s decision not to practice medicine was because she was still grieving the loss of her fiancé or because she’d feared a repeat of an episode that almost cost her her own life.

“Why aren’t you practicing?” She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble but he quickly regained his balance.

Celia stared up at Gavin. Wearing flats put her at a distinct disadvantage. Standing close to five-ten in her bare feet, whenever she wore heels not many men towered over her.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry for prying.” Gavin actually hadn’t expected her to disclose any facts about her personal life.

“It’s not about prying, but me not wanting to, as they say, spill my guts to a stranger.”

Putting both his arms around her waist, Gavin pulled Celia to his chest. “After a couple of dates we should stop being strangers.”

She lifted her chin. “Who said anything about a couple of dates? After Saturday’s cookout we may never see each other again.”

“How soon you forget, lady doctor. You promised to share Terry with me and there’s still our cook-off challenge.”

Lids lowering, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, Celia was able to conceal the rush of excitement eddying through her body. She’d boldly asked Gavin to go to Hannah’s with her, something she’d never done with any other man, but she didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume he wanted to see her again. After all, he’d come to the mountains on vacation, not to become involved with a woman.

“How long is your vacation?”

Gavin pressed a kiss to Celia’s forehead when what he’d wanted was to taste her mouth. Her mouth and voice were the personification of sensuality.

“It’s as long as I want it to be,” he said after a comfortable pause. “I’m leasing a time-share. I plan to stay through the Labor Day weekend.”

Her eyes caught and held his amused gaze. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

Attractive lines fanned out around Gavin’s eyes when he smiled. “No, I’m not. I just finished a job where I spent two months traveling with a businessman and his family throughout Europe and Asia. Once I returned to the States it took a week to balance my body’s circadian rhythm and even longer to readjust my taste buds. Speaking of taste buds,” he said without pausing to take a breath, “how about sharing lunch with me?”

Her smile was as intimate as a kiss. “I’d love to share lunch with you.”

Tightening his hold on her slender body, Gavin tucked Celia into the hard planes of his physique. Holding her, inhaling her feminine scent made him aware that she wasn’t skinny, but slender. Her womanly curves fit perfectly within the contours of his length.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Celia closed her eyes, melting against the man who reminded her why she’d been born female. A rush of craving, longing and trembling she’d never known held her in a vise-like grip, refusing to release her.

He looks so good.

He smells so good.

He feels so good.

And I need him to make me feel good—to help me to heal inside and out.

Hot tears pricked the backs of Celia’s eyelids with the silent entreaty. She’d spent the past year wallowing in fear and grief. As a doctor she’d come face-to-face with life and death on what had become a daily basis. She’d called the time of death on patients ranging from newborns to centenarians, and it was never easy. She was a scientist and a realist. It was inevitable that life was always followed by death.