Tempted by Dr. Off-Limits Read online

‘I know that too.’ He pulled himself up taller, as though regrouping. ‘And I know you’re not the enemy. I didn’t mean to hurt you with what I said. For what it’s worth, it isn’t personal. I just don’t like to have a crossover between my professional life and my private one.’

  ‘What you mean is that you don’t like people knowing too much about you, and certainly not the things you told me that night,’ she pushed bravely.

  It was how she’d intended that night to go, but deep down she suspected it was that shared vulnerability that had allowed her to sleep with him in the first place. She couldn’t have gone through it with anyone else but Fitz. It hadn’t just been about the sex, as incredible as that had undeniably been, it had been about the way Fitz had made her feel about herself. After Stevie’s betrayal had left her feeling so worthless, Fitz had made her feel good about herself again, and he’d made her laugh out loud.

  When was the last time Stevie had made her laugh?

  ‘Maybe,’ he answered carefully.

  ‘But I know because you told me, and that unsettles you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Elle...’ His low voice held a warning, but some reckless facet of her personality, the one that Fitz himself had been the one to awaken, was taking over her.

  ‘Is it because I make it harder for you to take off your Fitz head and put on your CO head?’ She was proud of herself for keeping the shake out of her voice. ‘Or is it because you’re still attracted to me?’

  Who was this daring, challenging person? She wanted to think this new, bolder side of herself was a reaction to Stevie. Yet somehow it was less about her ex-fiancé and more about Fitz, the man who had made her feel as though he had her back if she needed him, without eroding her own sense of control or undermining her capability.

  Elle snapped her head back to see Fitz had advanced on her, closing the gap between them, and for a moment she wondered if he was about to throw her out of his office.

  ‘I think you know the answer to that one.’ Fitz’s voice rumbled right through her, down to her very core.

  Elle couldn’t answer. He was close, so close she could breathe in that all-too-familiar woodsy scent. He was right, she still wanted him as much as she had that night.

  Fitz had made her feel wicked and wanton, and all woman. And suddenly Elle wanted to experience that again. If only once more. She tried telling herself it was a fantasy that would never happen, but instead she opened her mouth again. Breathy and seductive and nothing like her usual self.

  ‘I do. So what are we going to do about it?’

  Chapter Eight

  HE SHOULD STOP THIS.

  He had to stop this.

  He wanted to pull away but he couldn’t, he was rooted to the very spot. Her husky, seductive tone scraped inside him, through him, along his very sex.

  It was why he’d closed the gap between them in a move that was infinitely more dangerous than he’d thought. He was drawn to her like a planet to the sun, just as he’d been that night. But it was an illusion. He’d been plagued by ghosts that night, the anniversary of his mother’s death, and he’d been looking for something, anything to fill that void and help him stuff back the pain. If it hadn’t been Elle, it would have been someone else. The connection they felt wasn’t real.

  And yet, however many times he told himself that, Elle was all too real.

  Which had been part of the magic of that night.

  ‘You were going to leave me your phone number the next morning,’ she breathed, playing it like it was her trump card. Which, he supposed, it was. ‘I know you wrote it on the hotel notepad before throwing it in the bin.’

  He couldn’t answer. There was no response that wouldn’t confirm everything she already thought. That one night hadn’t been enough.

  ‘It was a mistake. That night was all we could have.’

  ‘So tell me to stop,’ she whispered. ‘And I’ll walk out of here and we won’t ever speak of it again, if that’s what you want.’

  He couldn’t even bring himself to open his mouth. The way she was staring at him now, so intently, was infinitely better than the way she’d been watching him a few moments earlier. With such an expression of hurt clouding her lovely features that he felt like a complete coward. He hadn’t felt that way since Janine’s father had ordered him to get out of their house and never return—and he’d been only too happy to oblige.

  That was why he didn’t get involved. He let people down, he betrayed them. He hurt people. One look back on his past proved it.

  He didn’t need Elle as further evidence.

  And then he’d given himself away and she’d realised it was all a show, she’d seen exactly how rattled he was.

  He’d never been rattled before Elle had come along.

  The relief on her face had fired everything back up inside him. Seeing how much it mattered to her, that their one-night stand hadn’t been meaningless.

  But that didn’t mean it was meaningful either, and that was the problem. He couldn’t offer her a future. Even if he wanted to, he lacked the ability; it wasn’t the kind of man he could ever be.

  ‘What do you want from me, Elle?’ he rasped.

  He didn’t know whether he was challenging her because if she couldn’t say the words then it gave them an out, or because he so urgently wanted to hear them from her lips.

  She swallowed.

  ‘One more night.’

  One more night. Not a relationship. Not a future. It seemed like such a reasonable demand, and one his whole being ached to consent to.

  He’d never wanted any woman the way he’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen that damned thumb-lock. He’d never felt so out of control. His entire career had been built on adhering to rigid rules, whether military or his own. Now he couldn’t seem to find a valid reason for either.

  But he had to. He had to end this now.

  He didn’t move.

  A slow smile toyed with the corners of her mouth, a game-changer smile, and he knew he’d given too much away. With a deep breath she crossed the room and locked the door, ironically one of the few things in this place still to work. Then, swinging back to face him, she advanced, hesitantly at first.

  And then she was standing in front of him, her breathing as ragged and shallow as his felt. They stood, motionless, watching each other for the longest time. Finally, she lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. He felt a droplet of emotion swelling inside, and it plinked onto the frozen glacier of his heart. But he knew only too well that the icy block was so big, so compact it would take a river of warm water and more years than he had on this earth to melt it.

  And, still, a part of him actually longed to let her try. To see if Elle could be the one person to help him heal the pain of how he’d let his mother and sister die. How he’d let Janine think he didn’t care about her, or about their unborn baby before it, too, had been lost. He was selfish, just like his father. He had to push Elle away, for her own protection.

  He grasped at the only life raft he could see.

  ‘Careful, Major.’

  She stopped, blinked. Then shook it off.

  ‘Oh, no, Fitz, that’s not fair.’ She almost managed to disguise the quiver in her tone, but he was attuned to her. ‘You don’t get to pick and choose when to follow the rules here. I was ready to show you to your office and walk away, to leave things on a professional footing, on a military footing. But you ordered me to come in and you made things personal when you brought up our intimate past. You made this about Elle and Fitz, woman and man, not Major and Colonel. So right now you don’t get to pull rank like that. If you don’t want this then you tell me to stop as Elle. Don’t use excuses.’

  The air practically crackled around them, tension twisting his insides as the blood pumped around his body. She was unmistakeably determined to stand her ground. So it turne
d out that life raft was actually an old naval mine.

  She was no closer and yet he felt she was all around him. She was all he could see, all he could hear, all he could smell. The more he resisted, the softer she seemed to make her tone. Not harsh, or in his face, but the most feminine of challenges tumbled out of her tempting lips. She didn’t have to say the words. He knew it was on him. He could turn around and walk away.

  But he didn’t. She was so close he could almost taste her.

  ‘Even if I kiss you, it won’t change anything.’

  ‘So you say.’

  She lifted her other hand. Both palms were flat on his chest and he felt another rush of intoxicating need.

  He dipped his head, stopping millimetres before making contact. So close her breath rippled along his cheek.

  She tilted her head up a fraction further, angling it perfectly without making contract. A silent power play, but instead of claiming it for themselves they were each offering it to the other.

  ‘Last chance,’ she whispered.

  He had to push her away now.

  Instead, he sneaked one hand around her waist, hauling her to him. Then he dipped his head and claimed her mouth with his, revelling in the sensations that cascaded over him at her touch, her feel, her taste. As if he’d been stranded in the barren wasteland outside for far, far too long, and she was his oasis.

  She tasted every bit as heady as he recalled, her body fitting to his like she was made for him, her teeth grazing his bottom lip with the lightest of touches, her soft sighs sending his willpower scattering.

  With a low groan, Fitz angled his head, deepening her kiss to something much more urgent and demanding, revelling in the way her lips parted for him, and the soft sound that came from somewhere in the back of her throat. He forgot that he was meant to be warning her to safeguard herself. He forgot that he would inevitably hurt her as his father had hurt those around him.

  He forgot everything. He simply indulged. For what seemed like an eternity, his mouth slid over hers. When he pushed, she pushed back. When he held back, Elle sought him. He trailed kisses down her jaw, her collarbone and to the hollow at the base of her neck. Her shivers of pleasure stoked his need. And each time he returned to those plump, pink lips, her mouth reached for his and her tongue met his in the same sinfully sinuous dance.

  As he gave himself up to the sensations, as each kiss from Elle threatened to undermine every defence he’d spent years putting in place, the plink of those warm droplets on his ice-block heart grew more insistent.

  Before he could help himself, he’d released the curtain of reds and golds from its military bun, inhaling its familiar fresh, floral scent as his hands buried themselves in its luxuriant depths. He could recall exactly how it had felt brushing over his naked skin that night and his body tightened.

  She felt it instantly; he could feel the sweet uplift of her smile against his lips, and then she rocked against him.

  ‘Gabriella,’ he groaned, unable to make up his mind whether it was a groan or a warning growl.

  And still he kissed her, sometimes gently and reverently, other times hard and greedily. As though he never wanted to stop. He didn’t know when he backed her up so that she was sitting on his desk with him standing between her legs, or when his fingers crept under the hem of her tee, or when he lifted it over her head and dropped it in a puddle on the plans he was supposed to be going through.

  He just knew his hands were sweeping over velvet skin he’d been dreaming about for a week, running over her ribs and circling her body so that his thumbs were grazing the lower swell of her perfect breasts.

  He needed to stop. Needed to remind her—remind himself—what kind of a man he was. How he would inevitably hurt her.

  ‘So, what now?’ he managed harshly, shocked by the sheer force of his own driving desire. ‘We give in to this thing between us? Here, now? Tell me, Elle, do you want it on the uneven floor or on the rusty metal desk?’

  Any other woman would have fled, intimidated by the tone, let alone the words. Elle merely sparkled brighter, as though she enjoyed the push-pull of it. He couldn’t work it out.

  ‘So this is what the real Fitz looks like,’ she murmured, moving her hands down his body. Though he could hear the quiver in her voice. ‘Not quite as cool and utterly in control as everyone might think. I like this side of you, the side behind the mask.’

  ‘Elle...’

  ‘I want what you want. One more night.’

  It wasn’t encouraged or condoned by the army, but they both knew it happened. As long as they were utterly discreet, and, like Elle had pointed out before, they were both commissioned officers and he wasn’t her boss.

  He glanced at the desk. It wasn’t his style. It wasn’t her style. But he knew that in that instant they both wanted each other too much to care.

  He had to put the brakes on it.

  It felt as though it took every last bit of strength in his body to move his hands to her upper arms and push her away.

  ‘I can’t let this happen.’ His voice actually cracked.

  ‘I take responsibility for myself, Fitz,’ she told him, her eyes glittering with desire so hot it scorched him.

  ‘It isn’t that simple.’

  Raw need pulsed between them but he couldn’t give in to it.

  ‘I think it is. Why do you have such rigid rules for yourself?’ she asked, the soft voice piercing through the heart of his fears better than any arrow could. ‘Who are you trying to protect yourself from?’

  ‘I’m trying to protect you.’ He gritted his teeth so hard he was surprised his jaw didn’t crack.

  ‘From whom? You?’ She shook her head. ‘Why?’

  He didn’t want to answer. He’d never volunteered his story to anyone before. And yet under her coaxing the words spilled from his lips and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

  ‘That car crash with my mother and sister was my fault.’

  ‘I didn’t think you were there.’ She squinted up at him.

  ‘Exactly. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. I was too busy enjoying myself on a night out with friends. We were celebrating a week early. My mum had been a barmaid at the local pub for a few years; they treated her a bit like a manager and every time someone didn’t turn up for a shift they’d call her and she’d rush over there to fill in.’

  Even now he could remember just how aggrieved he’d felt, as though she was deliberately ruining their precious family time together when all she’d been doing had been trying to keep her job so the meagre income would keep the roof over their heads and some food on the table. All he’d ever thought was that it was never enough. He shook off the memories, forcing himself to carry on, to show Elle exactly what kind of man he was.

  ‘I sometimes felt they didn’t employ enough staff just because they knew they could turn to her and she’d cover it all. So from the age of about fifteen I became the babysitter. Nights out with schoolfriends were inevitably cancelled because she’d get called in and I’d end up looking after my baby sister. And I began to resent it.’

  ‘So that night you went out?’ Elle asked quietly. ‘How could you have known any different?’

  ‘Because she phoned me. Fifteen messages, each one more frantic than the last. She called me to tell me my father had found us, that he was drunk and that she’d hidden my sister in the cupboard over the stairs.’

  ‘Fitz...’

  He ignored her, determined to carry on. Fighting the overwhelming guilt and regret.

  ‘I saw the missed calls and I turned my phone off. By the time I listened to the calls it was hours later. I raced home but of course I was far too late.’

  ‘Fitz,’ she gasped. ‘That must have been... I can’t imagine how that must have been. But you can’t honestly blame yourself. How could you have known? You were seventeen, a kid, you c
ouldn’t have foreseen your father had found you.’

  ‘I should have cared enough to listen. I should have taken her call, not shut it down as though she didn’t deserve my time.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Elle cried, but he ignored the emotions her words threatened to stir in him.

  He didn’t know why she insisted on seeing him in such a bold, fair light, but she had it wrong.

  ‘You don’t understand. I let them down. I wasn’t there for them when they needed me. I was thoughtless, selfish, I was just like him.’

  He practically spat the last word out in disgust, and still Elle looked at him with empathy, and care, as though she understood. As though he wasn’t the self-serving young man he’d actually been. But he knew the truth. He knew he could have been there for them. He should have been there for them.

  Just like with Janine. He should have been there for her and then she would never have lost her baby.

  Their baby.

  He’d tried to make himself love her. He’d told himself that if he could love her, maybe he wasn’t as broken as he’d feared. But he couldn’t. Janine was sweet and kind, and she’d loved him. But he’d been unable to feel the same about her. He hadn’t been capable of it. He’d ended up using her. She’d been right, she’d have been better off never meeting him.

  Just as Elle would be.

  He opened his mouth to tell her, then stopped. What if she told him it wouldn’t have made a difference? For any of them? He might actually allow himself to believe her. She was so understanding, so empathetic, so damned convincing. She looked at him as though he was a good man and he wanted so much to be the human being she saw.

  He was a good leader, a good soldier. But he wasn’t a good man.

  Another plink and he could swear he felt the tiniest fissure race through the block of ice that surrounded his heart.

  It suddenly occurred to him that if she melted it then he would have to feel again.

  All that pain he’d stuffed down for so long.

  Fear finally galvanised him and he found his voice, as raw and biting as it sounded.