A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby

He’d better get used to it.

CHAPTER THREE

NASH SPENT THE next two weeks ignoring his attraction to Maggie. Something he never did. He’d learnt from his sister’s passing that life was short and should be lived to its fullest. But during their talk the other night he’d realised Maggie was not the type of woman with whom he could indulge in a quick fling.

There was something about her that flashed a big red warning light at him. Maggie was a forever kind of woman. And he wasn’t a forever kind of guy.

He had years left of his training to go, several in London and then back to the bush. Maybe one day, maybe, he’d find a nice country girl to settle down with, maybe have what his parents, his grandparents had, but he was certainly in no rush.

But then he made the fatal error of joining the staff for Friday night drinks and he knew he couldn’t deny it any more. Two hours of watching her moist lips suck amber liquid out of long-necked bottles and he was wishing he was her beer. She was driving him to distraction. He had to have her—despite the warning light, despite knowing it was crazy.

He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this badly.

Maggie lifted her gaze to his for a brief second before she hastily looked away and smiled at something Linda was saying. He knew she could feel the pounding of attraction growing out of control too. Louder than the noise of the juke box and the chatter all around them. It was as if the social situation, far removed from the hospital, had changed the boundaries between them.

She’d been slipping him furtive looks all evening when she’d thought he hadn’t been watching and while it was dim inside her desire flared like a lighthouse beacon, beckoning him closer. Even though the rocks were treacherous and he risked being snagged, their attraction pulled at him like the undertow of a tsunami.

He needed another drink.

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief as Nash left the table. She’d felt the weight of his gaze all evening and it excited and terrified her in equal measure. She had an overwhelming feeling of inevitability and it sucked the breath out of her lungs.

He looked his usual laid-back sexy self tonight in faded jeans and a polo shirt the exact shade of his tropical-waters eyes. It touched all the right places on him and inside her. He looked good enough to sprinkle with sugar and eat with a spoon.

God, this was getting way out of hand. They’d spent a fortnight studiously avoiding each other. Oh sure, the zing between them was there but it was as if he’d decided to crank back the vibe. He didn’t flirt. He was polite, friendly. And that suited her just fine.

In fact, she was very grateful for his detachment and returned it in the same spirit. But tonight it was if a channel of energy had opened up across the table between them, a portal visible only to them, and the bounds they’d subliminally put on their relationship had been sucked away.

Nash returned to the table with a glass of beer and looked directly at her, his gaze grazing her face before dropping to the V neckline of her T-shirt. He looked back up at her and Maggie could see the raw hunger in his eyes. She stood. She couldn’t bear it any longer. If she didn’t leave now she was going to drag him into the loo just to get it out of their system.

‘I’m off,’ she announced.

There was a chorus of protest but Maggie waved it all away.

‘Me too.’ Nash stood, leaving his untouched beer. ‘Do you think you could give me a lift?’ he asked, looking directly at her.

Maggie swallowed, hoping the heat between them wasn’t as obvious to everyone else. ‘I’m getting a taxi.’

‘Good. We can share.’

Maggie saw the desire in his gaze light up his blue eyes with purpose and it scared her witless. But she nodded anyway.

There was a queue at the taxi rank and Maggie’s heart belted along at triple time as they stood side by side, jostled by others in front and behind.

‘What are we going to do about this, Maggie May?’

Maggie heard the murmur of his voice near her ear and knew they were standing at a crossroads. The wise thing to do would be to stick to her side of the path. But as she looked up into his face she knew she wanted him to kiss her more than she’d wanted anything in the last decade, and she knew she was powerless to resist.

Tonight, anyway.

They moved to the top of the queue and she looked around at the people behind, relieved to see they were too engrossed in their own conversations to be paying any heed to theirs.

‘One night,’ she said, amazed at the steadiness of her voice as she took charge of her destiny to the pounding of her bongo-drum pulse. ‘One night only.’

Nash’s heart crashed to a brief standstill in his chest before galloping madly. He searched her gaze for a moment. He’d expected her to knock him back, to persist with her denial. But she was looking at him calmly. Intently. No doubts. No Maggie of old. Just double chocolate fudge brownie eyes sucking him in, tempting him further.

And one night was good. Enough to quench the attraction but not for it to be misconstrued as anything other than two adults having a good time. Perfect. ‘Works for me.’

Maggie breathed again. ‘How far away do you live?’

‘Ten minutes.’

‘I’m closer.’

A taxi pulled up. ‘Get in,’ he said, opening the door.

A trill of lust squirmed through her abdomen at what she’d just initiated, and her hands trembled a little before her legs kicked into action. She hesitated at the door for a moment then Nash smiled at her like he already knew all her secrets and wild horses wouldn’t have kept her out of the cab.

She slid across the seat, giving the driver her address, aware of Nash like she’d never been aware of anyone before as he scooted across the seat. He moved in close, draping his arm along the back of the seat, crowding her, surrounding her.

He nuzzled her ear and her neck, and when his hand skimmed her thigh, slowly creeping up one denim-clad leg, Maggie almost whimpered out loud she was so turned on. She should have been mortified that they were necking like teenagers but she was so utterly caught up in his heat and his smell and the sexual squall lashing her insides and scrambling her thought processes, she couldn’t have cared less.

She wanted to feel his lips on her so badly she turned her face towards him, her mouth seeking his as she clutched at his shirt, fisting it. ‘Nash,’ she whimpered as his lips brushed lightly against hers. Soft, teasing. She clutched his thigh, trying to anchor herself in the maelstrom.

Nash felt her desperate whimper right down to his toes and knew exactly how she felt. He wanted to tear her clothes off right here and now, push her back against the seat and have his way with her, audience or not.

And if he deepened the kiss that’s exactly what would happen. ‘Shh, Maggie,’ he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. ‘Nearly there.’

Maggie made a sound of protest deep in her throat. How could he be so controlled when she was practically blind with lust? His thigh felt thick and powerful beneath her hand and she massaged it convulsively, trying to claw back her breath, her sanity.

Nash clasped his hand over hers as it moved higher. God, didn’t she know he was holding on by a thread? He placed his forehead against her cheekbone, forcing himself to slow it down, to think practically for a moment while he still had the chance.