DELLA ENTERED HER staff bungalow on the hospital grounds and slammed the door. The reverberations jolted through Harvey from his position across the street. He’d followed her, of course. He’d never have been able to sleep if he hadn’t made certain she’d arrived home safely.
He dragged in a shuddering breath, guilt making him cringe. He should never have allowed himself to be lured into a personal conversation. They couldn’t be trusted not to bicker, insult and upset each other. Then she’d forced him to talk about her ex, demanding he be honest, before throwing his reluctant observations back in his face.
Why could they never have a nice, normal chat? Maybe because the attraction was always there, bubbling away beneath the surface. Harvey hadn’t liked any of her boyfriends. She was right. None of them were good enough for her, not even Ethan. She was funny and smart and would do anything for anyone, and after today, Harvey had gained a massive amount of respect for her as a surgeon.
Harvey crossed the road, regret a weight on his shoulders. What the hell did he know about committed relationships anyway? He’d been alone by choice for twenty years, after Alice had died in a car accident. He’d assumed he’d get over her death in time and want another relationship, but as the years had passed, he’d become increasingly convinced that he should have known better than to pin his happiness on another person. After all, if his own mother hadn’t loved him enough to stick around, what hope did he have of finding someone with whom he could share his life?
Harvey tapped on the door to Della’s bungalow, his gut twisting. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Della. Why would she care what he had to say? But maybe she saw her divorce as some sort of failing, even though it was her ex who chose to leave the marriage.
The door flew open, as if she’d been standing and fuming on the other side.
‘You left your sunnies at the bar,’ he said, wearing an apologetic expression as he held out the sunglasses.
‘Thanks.’ She took them, dropping them onto the table just inside the door. When she looked at him again, her stare brimmed with hurt that he’d inadvertently put there because, ever since that night three years ago, he couldn’t seem to manage this attraction.
‘I’m sorry, Della,’ he said, contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. My comments were...thoughtless. I don’t think you’re a fool for falling in love. The opposite, in fact.’ He stared into her blue eyes, forcing himself to open up in order to repair the damage. ‘It’s not that I don’t believe in love. It’s more that making yourself vulnerable with another person is a brave gamble. But then, I’m hardly an expert. As you pointed out, what do I know about relationships?’
She eyed him hesitantly, still wearing a frown.
‘You shouldn’t listen to me,’ he went on. ‘I just wouldn’t want you to be hurt again, that’s all. If I’m honest, I didn’t like your boyfriends because none of them were good enough for you.’
He shut his mouth, suddenly exhausted. He’d already given away how protective he felt of her, when he had no right. Her love life was none of his business, and he wasn’t the man of anyone’s dreams. At least she was brave enough to put herself out there, whereas he simply avoided the risk of letting someone close, of giving them the power to cause pain. When it came to matters of the heart, she was the experienced one.
Della sighed, her body relaxing. ‘I did push for your honest opinion,’ she said, shaking her head with regret. ‘And I threw my fair share of insults your way. Maybe I just hate that you’re always right. That, like Brody, you’re better than me at everything.’ Her lips twitched with amusement, telling him he was forgiven.
Harvey’s pulse pounded with relief, but his stare raked hers. Did she compare herself unfavourably to Brody? Harvey was an only child, so he had no reference when it came to sibling rivalry.
‘Not everything,’ he said, a cautious smile forming. ‘Definitely not relationships.’ Harvey’s parents had split when he was kid, so as far as he was concerned, relationship breakdowns were inevitable. Maybe it was time to tell Della about Alice, about his mother, about why the cynical twenty-three-year-old she’d met had been so down on commitment and still was, if pushed.
‘Only because you’ve never had one,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘If you had, I’m sure that, like Brody, you’d have made it work. You’d probably be living my life by now—successful career, happily married, a houseful of adorable children.’
Harvey hid a wince, wishing he could say something to help reassure Della that she still had time to achieve her dreams, but he’d already overstepped the mark once tonight. He hated that she wanted what Brody had, but had been let down by her ex. Maybe once, a long time ago, Harvey might have harboured that same dream, back when he’d thought he was in control of his life and his heart. But growing up abandoned by his mother, the only woman who should have loved him unconditionally, had taught him that feelings, entrusting your happiness to another person, was a big risk. And he’d re-learned that same lesson the hard way when Alice had died.
‘Well, if it’s any consolation,’ he said, steering the conversation back to the relative safety of work, ‘having seen you in action in the OR today, I’d say you can hold your own as a surgeon with both me and Brody.’ Respect for her bloomed anew. She was a good doctor and a talented surgeon, damn sexy qualities. But then, everything about Della was sexy and always had been. Probably why he goaded her. Nothing worse than forbidden fruit to increase ardour. And apart from that one lapse, when he’d kissed her back, one thing leading to another, Harvey was smart enough to stay well away. They wanted different things in life. Della wanted that marriage, husband, a houseful of kids dream, and Harvey liked being in control of his life and his emotions. So why was he struggling to walk away now?
‘Careful, Harvey.’ She smiled, eyed in him in that way that heated his blood, but also told him she could laugh at herself and at him. ‘That sounds suspiciously like another compliment.’
He dragged in a shaky breath. ‘Good. It is. Will you be okay?’ He hesitated on the doorstep, needing to know that their stupid fight hadn’t caused lasting damage to Della’s self-esteem. He should leave. Let her get some sleep before their seminars in the morning. But he cared about her and genuinely wanted to see her happy.
‘Of course.’ She blinked, watched him with curiosity as if seeing him for the first time. ‘I’m a strong, independent and resilient woman. It will take more than one little divorce to keep me down.’
‘I know you are,’ he said, seeing through her bravado. Those old protective urges resurfaced. The Harvey that had first met this woman had known all about the pain of heartbreak. It had been hard to stand on the sidelines and watch big-hearted Della go through break-up after break-up and finally her divorce. Not that looking out for her, back then or now, was his place.
‘Okay... I’ll...um...let you get some rest.’ He took a half step back, his feet dragging. Being trapped with her in Fiji had forced him to admit how badly he still wanted her, how the grip he thought he had on his attraction was weakened because he couldn’t avoid temptation and walk away the way he had three years ago, the way he did every time he’d seen her since. Nor could he shake the knowledge that she hadn’t had sex with another man since him, that she still wasn’t ready for a relationship. And if he needed one more sign that this trip had been sent to test him and his belief that Della was out of his system, she was looking at him in that way again.
‘Thanks...’ she said, touching his arm. ‘For the sunglasses and the compliment. It means a lot coming from you.’
Her touch burned his skin, her words an acknowledgement that they might be different, but when it came to work, they respected each other.
‘You’re welcome.’ His voice was scratchy. His feet didn’t seem to want to move.
‘You know,’ she said, blinking up at him, ‘I’m sorry, too.’ Her breathing came faster. ‘I did use you for sex that night. You were right about that, as well.’ She blushed and Harvey shrugged it off, his pulse roaring because she was still touching his arm.
‘That’s okay. Truth is, I was happy to be used.’ What kind of idiot would turn down sex with someone as gorgeous as Della, even if he had been her rebound? He’d never forgotten that night, probably because Della Wilton, like the rest of her loving, boisterous family, was a massive part of his life. But they really shouldn’t discuss sex any more tonight or he’d never make it off this doorstep.
‘I wanted to feel attractive again after, you know, being rejected,’ she said, looking down and then meeting his stare. ‘But it’s not okay that I hurt you in the process.’
Harvey understood rejection, but were they declaring a truce? ‘You’re beautiful, Della. And I’m a grown man. I wanted you too much to care about your motivations.’ Adrenaline rushed through his system. It felt good to admit that after all these years of pretending he didn’t find her incredibly attractive. But this was dangerous territory.
Her eyes widened. Time slowed as they stared. What was it about this place that completely altered the nature of their relationship? It was as if for the first time ever they were being honest. Finally, Harvey tilted his head in resignation and stepped back. If he didn’t leave now, he was going to do something stupid. And this time, there’d be no walking away, no pretending it hadn’t happened, at least not until they left Fiji.
‘Wait,’ she said, reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging. ‘Don’t go.’
He crossed the threshold. She closed the door, pulled him closer.
‘Della...is this a good idea?’ His hands found her waist, neither drawing her close nor holding her distant. Their bodies were inches apart. The heat of her, the subtle scent of her perfume, called to that part of him he’d always needed to lock down in her presence.
‘It’s just sex, Harvey,’ she argued with a shrug, tossing back his earlier words. ‘Best to get it out of the way so we can move on and work together, don’t you think?’
Think...? All of his blood had left his brain. Thinking was impossible. But his instincts were still firing. ‘I want you, but I don’t want to hurt you again or give you the wrong idea about us. You know me.’ They were too different for more than sex. Under all her bluff and bluster, Della was a funny, caring and wildly passionate woman any guy looking to settle down would be lucky to have. But Harvey wasn’t that guy, and they both knew it.
‘Come on, Harvey.’ She blinked up at him, her stare dark with desire and unspoken challenge. ‘I’m an intelligent woman. I’d never be stupid enough to expect anything but sex from a man like you.’
Reassurance dressed as an insult, but she was right. She knew him the way he knew her. He wasn’t relationship material, and Della wanted it all. Of course, she didn’t know everything about his past—some ugliness was too uncomfortable to share—but she knew enough to have realistic expectations.
‘Are you worried that I’m using you for sex again?’ she asked, a playful glint in her blue eyes. ‘Because if it helps, I totally am.’
Harvey fought his instincts. He should have felt relieved that they were on the same page. That just like last time, Della wasn’t looking for anything serious. But somewhere deep down, her words—a man like you...using you for sex again—also stung. Despite what she believed, Harvey did possess a heart. He’d just trained it to have very low expectations.
‘I’m not worried,’ he lied, clinging to reason as she inched closer, her breasts grazing his chest. He gripped her face, tilted that lovely mouth up to within a whisper of his. ‘I just want you to be sure. Eyes wide open like last time.’
‘I want you.’ Della held his stare as she surged up on tiptoe and sought his mouth with hers. She gripped his neck and pulled him down, closing the distance. Della knew what she wanted, and she was right—this was the best way to break the tension so they could get through two weeks of forced proximity.
Too late to overthink it, Harvey crushed her close. The first touch of their kiss flooded his strung-out body with energising endorphins. Their lips parted. Tongues met, surged, tasted. A sense of déjà vu struck, as if he recalled every detail of the last time they kissed. As if they aligned perfectly.
‘Harvey...’ Della moaned as he slid his lips down the side of her neck.
His name on her lips shifted something primal and urgent inside him, so he pressed her body closer. Selfishly, on some level, Harvey needed to know that Della wanted him for no other reason than this fierce, immoveable attraction. This time, there was no ghost of another man to chase off. This was about them.
‘Why is it that we get on so much better without words,’ she panted, sliding her hands inside his T-shirt, her palms branding his skin.
‘I have no idea.’ Harvey backed her up, pressing her against the wall to increase the contact between their bodies. Maybe it was because words were open to misinterpretation, whereas physically, they just clicked. Harvey ground his hips against hers, urgency to be inside her pounding through his veins. Della angled her head, exposing her neck to his kisses. Then she shoved up his shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it before removing her own.
He looked down to where her breasts were encased in sexy black lace. ‘I swear you get sexier each time I see you.’ And he was only human. Della was too sexy to ignore when she was on the other side of the room shooting him disapproving looks. Like this, seductive, needy in his arms, saying all the right things, he’d had no hope of resisting.
Kissing her again, he hoisted her from the floor so she wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers demanding in his hair. She moaned as he cupped one breast through her bra, kissing his jaw, his neck, the notch between his collarbones while her hips undulated against his. Harvey’s eyes rolled closed, the friction between their writhing bodies almost unbearable.
‘Hold tight,’ he said, slinging his arms under her butt and striding to the bedroom. He placed her on her feet, and she unclasped and removed her bra.
‘Hurry,’ she said, tugging at the waistband of his shorts. ‘It’s been three years.’
‘Whose fault is that?’ Harvey smiled as he popped the button on her sexy denim cut-off shorts, then scooped her back into his arms. Their naked chests pressed together, and he walked them back towards the bed. ‘Besides, that’s all the more reason not to rush.’
Ducking his head, he captured first one of her nipples in his mouth and then the other.
‘See,’ she gasped, her head falling back, ‘you always need to be right, even now.’
‘And you always need to have the last word.’ He grinned, laying her down on the bed. He unzipped her shorts and slid them and her underwear down her shapely legs.
For a second he simply stared, swaying on his feet. She was glowing, beautiful, her stare heavy with desire. A knot formed under his ribs. This might be just sex, but Della was precious, almost family, as much a part of the furniture in his life as the rest of the Wiltons. He couldn’t afford to mess this up just because he wanted her and the feeling was mutual.
‘Don’t overthink it, Harvey,’ she said, holding out her hand for his. ‘Just come here.’
Before he got too carried away by temptation, Harvey removed his wallet from his pocket, took out a condom and placed it on the bed. Then he kicked off his shoes and took her hand, lying down at her side.
‘Kiss me,’ she demanded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hooking one leg over his hip so his doubts were silenced.
He cupped her backside and pushed his tongue against hers, laughing when she rolled him onto his back and sat astride him.
‘So it’s like that, is it?’ he asked, toying with her nipples as she leaned over him to kiss him once more. He didn’t mind her being on top or making demands or using him for sex. He’d grown accustomed over the years to the power play in his every interaction with Della, and he liked her playful side. She groaned as his hands skimmed her waist, her hips, guiding them to rock against his hard length.
‘Stop teasing me,’ she ordered, kissing him with renewed desperation.
When he rolled them again, tore his mouth from hers and trailed kisses down her neck, chest and stomach, she sighed in surrender. Going lower, he spread her thighs and covered her with his mouth. She cried out, her fingers spearing his hair. He wanted to take his time, to savour her, to unleash more of that wildly passionate Della that had blown him away three years ago. Her moans intensified. He pushed his fingers inside her and groaned as she tensed, gasped, climaxed, crying out his name once more. Triumph expanded his chest. If she’d waited three years, he wanted tonight to be memorable. She was right; this was their best form of communication. They didn’t need feelings or hurtful words or one-upmanship. Just touch and honest desire.
‘You are so sexy,’ he said, shoving off his shorts and briefs. He rolled on the condom and kissed his way back up her satiated body.
‘Don’t be smug,’ she whispered, smiling and breathless, drawing his mouth back to hers as she wrapped her hand around his erection.
‘I’m afraid you can’t stop me.’ He grinned, gripped her thigh and drew it over his hip so he sank between her legs. ‘Three years is a long time. Did you think about us?’ He had.
‘I might have done, on occasion,’ she admitted begrudgingly, her pupils dilating as she snagged her lip with her teeth. ‘But you don’t need your ego stroking.’
Too late. With his heart thudding triumphantly because he hadn’t been alone in reliving that night, Harvey laughed and swooped in for another kiss. Even after her orgasm, when admitting that they were hot together—that, like him, she’d struggled to forget—Della needed to come out on top. But with them naked and pleasuring each other rather than fighting, there was no point hiding how good they were together physically.
‘Go slow,’ she whispered, spreading her legs, inviting him into her body with a teasing tilt of her hips.
He pushed inside her, their stares locked. ‘I thought about us, too,’ he admitted, fighting his instincts to move.
Her eyes widened, a small gasp leaving her throat.
‘Every time I saw you, I wanted you again, even while we fought and bickered and tried to pretend it hadn’t happened.’ He moved inside her body, his heart banging against hers.
‘I wanted you, too,’ she gasped as he thrust faster. Della tunnelled her fingers into his hair and drew his lips to hers, pushed her tongue into his mouth so he groaned. They’d never stood a chance of ignoring this attraction, this connection. They were too good together. Their sparks were exceptional. Fighting it was almost a crime against sex.
As he found the perfect rhythm, Harvey fought his own need. He wanted her with him, a tied race. He wanted her as consumed as him, so that they might move on, but they’d never forget.
‘Harvey,’ Della gasped, and he kissed her, cupped her beautiful breasts, thumbed her nipples erect and watched as desire darkened her blue eyes to navy.
‘Come with me,’ he said, picking up the pace so Della cried out and crossed her ankles in the small of his back, her fingernails digging into his arms. Harvey bent one knee for purchase, driving harder and faster. As fire raced down his spine, Harvey sent her tumbling over the edge once more, finally following her with a harsh groan, his body racked with spasms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sucked in the scent of her skin and wrung every drop of pleasure from their bodies.
Finally he released Della to collapse, satiated, at her side. They stared at the ceiling, both panting.
‘Why did I wait so long?’ Della asked, a satisfied smile stretching her lips.
‘Beats me...’ Harvey grinned. He’d been absolutely right about their unfinished business. But as the oxygen returned to his brain, awareness returned. Reason. Sense. Yes, their chemistry was still explosive, but it was also still something to be very wary of. Because neither of them had changed in the past three years. They still wanted different things when it came to relationships.
As he scooped a breathless Della into his arms, Harvey gritted his teeth, prepared for a fierce internal battle of desire for her, for this, versus self-preservation. Two weeks didn’t feel like a long time, but if they kept being intimate, it was long enough to form a habit. When it came to relationships, he’d spent years fighting that kind of trap, keeping people out.
Surely he could survive thirteen more days until he could put some distance between himself and the temptation of Della?