image
image
image

Chapter 3

image

CHARITY STIFFENED. “I didn’t run.”

He snorted, so quietly Charity almost missed it. “You left. For no reason. You did a runner.”

“I did not! How would you like being the stranger amongst friends and family at a tragic point in their life? It’s not easy.”

“I do it almost every day.” His eyebrows pressed together as his forehead wrinkled slightly. It was a very sexy look and he probably had no idea. “I step into a patient’s room and have to tell them terrible news. Their sixteen-year-old son has leukemia. Or tell another family they lost their sister. I get what it felt like. I’m the stranger who tells families disappointing news. I can’t run away from it.”

“You’re a doctor.” His simple matter-of-fact comparison frustrated her. “I wanted to offer you support and whatever else, but I didn’t know what to do.” Your mother could scare a ferocious lion.

“Was it because of the birds? Were you frightened they weren’t going to work out? They—”

“I didn’t leave because of the freakin’ birds!” Did I? Why did she sound so defensive? Or was it anger, like she was trying to blame him? The birds were her stupid idea. How she ever thought releasing those funny-looking little things that couldn’t fly onto his mother’s billion-dollar property was a good idea. Like it would make his mother think Charity was worthy of her son. She shook her head. Beyond dumb. And during his father’s funeral. Or had Charity’s intentions been pure and somehow she had twisted them?

Elijah sat up, his arms crossing his lean, muscular chest. Whatever moment they had just shared, evaporated. “They were a huge success, you know? Everyone loved the idea and the conservation people have kept in touch, too. They’ve spotted nests. Even my mother admitted that it had been a fantastic idea.” He stood, stepping into his boxer-briefs. “It’s something my father would have loved. He was all about the little guy.” Elijah walked over to the kitchen.

She heard the fridge door open. Elijah poured a glass of liquid. She couldn’t turn her head to look at him. It would be easier to pick her things up and leave.

A cool wetness touched her shoulder. Elijah offered her a glass filled with clear liquid.

“It’s water.” He drank from a glass in his other hand. “Seems I’ve built up quite a thirst. I’m guessing you did too?” He winked as he sat down beside her, and then tilted his head.  “What’s wrong?”

She took the glass and shook her head, intentionally not answering him, but completely confused on how a guy’s brain worked. “You just said...” She waved her hand and took a gulp of the refreshingly cool water. “Never mind.”

He rested his hand on the curve of her hip, his thumb tracing back and forth over the blanket. “I don’t know why you left New Zealand and I’ll admit I was ticked.” He kissed and nibbled her ear. “But I believe you’re making up for it now.”

She laughed and swatted his shoulder playfully. “You’re such a guy!”

“And you’re such a woman.” He pointed at her and chuckled. “But you, you’re especially hard to figure out. Maybe that’s why I can’t get you off my mind.” He took a long drink and then watched her, his face hiding all of his thoughts. He finally spoke, his voice soft: “It doesn’t matter anymore why you left. It matters that you came back.” He set his glass down on the floor near the fireplace and stretched out beside her, pressing his body against hers.  He kissed her bare shoulder. “I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.” There were a million things she wanted to say, but had no idea how.

“Want to go to bed?” He pretended to pout, letting his stubble rub lightly against the skin of her shoulder. “I’m feeling a bit hurt and think you have some more making up to do.”

She shook her head but couldn’t hold back a smile. Would their physical attraction ever be sated? She didn’t think so. Her hips rotated without conscious thought. “Where’s your room?”

His face lit and he scooped her up in his arms. “Right this way.” He carried her past the fireplace, down the hall toward the back of the house. He used his elbow to switch the light on.

Charity blinked, the lights were bright compared to the low firelight. It was a wonderfully large room with a king-size bed and matching dark-wood dresser set. Neutral beige paint covered the walls and the steel-grey bedding matched perfectly. The room reminded her of his parents’ place in New Zealand.

Elijah surveyed the room. “Bed made, check. No knicks on the floor, check. Beautiful naked woman in my arms, check.” He winked at her and moved toward the bed. “Dropping her on the mattress... priceless.” In one fluid motion he held on the blanket wrapped around Charity and unrolled her.

She hit the mattress and landed on her back. Oddly, she didn’t mind that she lay naked on his bed with the lights on to show every imperfection. She stretched and arched her back while Elijah watched, his mouth slightly open and his eyes burning. He strode around the bed to where her feet dangled at the edge. He bent down and lifted her leg gently by the ankle. “Delicious,” he murmured and kissed her ankle, moving up her calf.

His lips found their way to her thigh and left a blazing trail as his tongue darted in and out of his mouth.

Charity moaned. Inside her head, she begged him to bring his mouth toward her center. His fingers found their way and brushed against her wetness. They found a rhythm that her hips fought to keep up with. His tongue traced her Caduceus tattoo and a guttural need escaped his lips.

His mouth moved to her breast and trapped her nipple inside. As he sucked hard, his fingers increased the speed of their rhythm. When his lips imprisoned her other breast, she inhaled sharply and shut her eyes tight. Ripples of pent-up desire erupted from the power of his hands. As the spasms of pleasure spread, she cried out his name.

He answered her by kissing her mouth. There was no tenderness in it, only raw desire that needed to be sated. Charity felt his need. With rough hands, she pulled at his boxer-briefs. Their tongues still battling, he slid toward the edge of the bed to remove them all the way.

Charity did not resist when he flipped her onto her hands and knees. He kissed her back and pulled her hips close to where he stood. He mounted her in the most primitive of ways, his erection burying deep inside her wetness and sliding out and in again at an accelerated pace. She felt him lengthen and as he exploded inside of her, he collapsed against her.  Both of their bodies were hot and wet with sweat.

Neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their panting. Eventually, their rapid heart rates slowed to normal rhythms.

Elijah rolled onto his back, taking Charity into his arms so her head cradled against his shoulder and chest. She snuggled close against him, her leg wrapping around his hips. He arched his neck and then dropped his head back against the sheets. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured.

She sighed, unbelievably happy for the first time in a very, very long time. She hadn’t realized something inside her had been missing. She’d been content, but at this moment she didn’t think she’d ever felt this good. “Mmm’ry Christmas to you,’oo,” she slurred. She knew she sounded drunk but didn’t care. She could feel herself drifting off and didn’t have the strength to fight it.

She half-woke when Elijah shifted and moved her so her head rested on a pillow. They’d been lying sideways on the bed. He covered her with the duvet and then curved against her back to spoon her. “I have to go to work in a few hours...”

He whispered more into her ear, but sleep clouded her hearing. She reminded herself to ask him in the morning what he had said.