Luke (16 page)

"That's because there's no sugar in them."

"Ah." Bending, he brushed his lips over hers. "Tonight, Faith?"

Her eyes drifted shut and she silently thanked him, because he'd made it so she couldn't think, which meant she could no longer calculate how much time she had left with him. "Tonight."

* * *

That night, Luke helped her close up the clinic. "Dinner," he said, but she shook her head. She wasn't wasting a single moment of their second-to-last night together.

"Upstairs."

Slowly he nodded, and reaching out for her hand, led her up the stairs.

"Shower?" she murmured, dropping her coat right inside the front door and reaching for his. "Lots of steam and hot water?"

"If it involves a wet you."

They stripped each other on the way down the hall, between long, wet kisses and hands fighting for purchase. Faith opened his shirt and shoved it off his shoulders so she could touch the chest she could never get enough of. Luke unzipped her dress, nudged it to the floor and bending his dark head, put his mouth over her heart.

No. Too emotional, and if they went the emotional route tonight she was going to lose it. She wanted hot, hard, and fast, and with that in mind, she nibbled her way over his hard pec, scraping her teeth over his flat nipple.

He sucked in a harsh breath as his nipple beaded.

Looking up at him, she licked her way to his other side at the same time she shoved his pants down.

"Faith—" But he broke off with a choked breath and staggered back against the wall when she wrapped her fingers around his long, hard, hot length and stroked.

Luke actually saw stars, heard fireworks in his head. If he didn't slow her down, it was going to be over too soon, but then she stroked him again, slowly, with just the right pressure, and his toes started to curl. With a low oath, he reached for her but she held him off, dancing away, moving towards the bathroom.

He saw pink towels, and a pink toothbrush on the counter, with smiley faces on the handle. Then he caught her just as she turned on the water, caught her and spun her around, pressing her back against the cool glass door of the shower, sandwiching her there with his hot, hard body.

But she just smiled that smile that always melted him, and spun them again, holding
him
pinned against the door as she slowly, slowly, sank down to her knees in front of him.

"Faith—"

Her warm, silky mouth surrounded him and all the air left his lungs. Normally this was Luke's very favorite sexual act, and indeed his eyes were crossing as she kissed and caressed her way over him, but right now all he wanted was to be buried deep inside her warm, giving body. He wanted to look into her eyes, wanted to see she felt the same unbelievable, inexplicable pull, and he wanted, desperately, to pretend she could be his for more than just this last weekend. Wanted that so damn much he didn't know how to function.

But what she was doing to him… It took every ounce of control he had to pull her to her feet and into her bedroom, where he tossed the covers aside and gently tossed her onto the mattress.

"The shower—"

"Can wait." He kneeled on the bed. "I want you, Faith. I want you surrounding me, looking at me, seeing me … just me." Bending over her, he nuzzled at her throat. "Just me," he whispered, rubbing his jaw against the warm, full curve of her breast, watching the nipple harden even more, as if blindly seeking his mouth. His hand slid down her belly, between her thighs, and at the creamy wetness that slicked his fingers, he groaned.

"Oh, Luke…" Melting arms surrounded him. "I'm looking at you, seeing you, just you … just you, Luke." She opened her legs to accommodate him, and when he settled between them, she arched up, so that he could bury himself exactly where he wanted to be, deeply within her body. It was so powerful and complete his knees went weak, and he was grateful he hadn't tried to take her in the shower standing up or he'd have killed them both.

Pulling back, he thrust deep. She gasped and whimpered and sighed all at once, eyes closed, mouth open, body tight as an arrow beneath him. Her breasts were creamy and full, her nipples beaded and tight, her stomach quivering slightly as she waited impatiently, restlessly, for him to move again. When he didn't, when he could only hold on and stare down at her, overcome, she arched her hips, silently entreating him to take them both right off the edge of the cliff they clung to.

"Can't," he managed through gritted teeth. "Left the condom on the floor in the hallway in my pants."

With a soft moan, she sagged back. "Hurry."

He never moved so fast in his life, and when he sank into her again, suitably protected now, he combed his fingers into the hair at her temples and held her face, craving that connection as well. "Okay?"

"Yes—" she started, but the word turned into a moan when he pulled back, slick wet flesh dragging on slick wet flesh. Then he thrust deep and she pulled his face down and kissed him, long and deep as he moved within her, in a slow, even rhythm that built higher and higher until he could hardly breathe. Every part of him was alive, vibrantly alive, pushing him toward release far before he wanted to let go. Her face blurred, and he blinked furiously, wanting to keep that connection, needing to hear her, see her when she let go, when she lost herself in him. Higher and higher they went. His heart thundered, and an aching need for her singed his every nerve ending, until he felt himself start to slip off the edge of control. "I can't … Faith, I can't hold back…"

"Don't hold back, don't you dare—" Then her mouth opened in a surprised little O! as she arched against him as she began to shudder. It completely pulled him under, wave after wave of it, and all he could do was bury his face in her hair and let it take them both.

* * *

Sunday afternoon of Women's Awareness weekend came almost without warning. The decorations were still up, more cookies were out. Some of their regular patients had even left Luke gifts.

Faith walked around the staff room touching a balloon, stuffing the occasional—okay, not so occasional—cookie into her mouth, trying to remind herself this is what she'd wanted.

Luke had been awarded with a glowing report from his hospital in the morning paper. She read it with pride, knowing everything they'd said about him was true.

And more.

His job was secure, her clinic had never been in better shape. Things were great.

Pass the cookies.

He'd already walked right out of her life. Yes, he'd had some important staff meeting at the hospital, and yes, he'd apologized for having to run, and yes, he'd given her a kiss that had been at once perfection and soul-destroying, which hadn't helped at all.

"Faith? You going to be okay?"

Looking up she forced a smile at Shelby and Guy, both of whom were getting ready to leave. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

They exchanged a long look between them that told her she had fooled exactly no one.

"It doesn't have to be over, you know."

Faith stared at Guy. "What? Of course it does. He's done here."

"But you're not done. Not with each other."

She let out a laugh that didn't deceive anyone any more than her smile had. "Oh, we're done. We agreed to be done."

Shelby sighed. "Oh, honey. For once, can't you think of yourself first? Can't you fight for something, if it means this much to you?"

"But the clinic—"

"Will be fine, even if you fall in love." Shelby smiled at her shocked expression. "The clinic will be fine, we'll be fine, and you'll be far more than fine if you let it happen. It's time, Faith. Time to do something for yourself instead of giving. Be selfish. Decide you want him for keeps and go after him."

"Do you need any helpful tips?" Guy asked sincerely. "Because I'd start with throwing out those old bunny slippers you wear."

"Oh, go on now," Faith said with a laugh, opening the door for them.

"Hey, come to dinner with us," Shelby said. "We're going for Japanese, at that new place that grills it up right in front of you."

"I'm not that hungry."

Now Shelby looked really worried. "Meet us there," she whispered as she hugged Faith goodnight. "If he doesn't show up soon."

Since she didn't trust her voice, Faith nodded and shut the door behind them, left alone with her far too numerous thoughts. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel Luke's last kiss. He'd held her face while their lips had clung in a moment at once both hot and so unbearably sweet it brought a lump to her throat even now.

She was afraid it had been their last.

And when he didn't show up, she knew it had been.

* * *

Luke tried to look interested in the meeting-that-wouldn't-end as he slowly cranked his wrist to glance at his watch—

"We boring you, Dr. Walker?"

This from Dr. Wesley Summerton, the president of the board of the hospital, the man who could make and break careers with one yawn, the man who'd just offered Luke an unprecedented second run as Department Head before his first run was even over.

"Of course not." He avoided Leo's knowing gaze. "It's just been long hours lately—"

"With the clinic, I know." Dr. Summerton nodded. "And I have to admit, you were an exceptionally good sport about the whole thing. Your staff seems happy, the media soaked you up, the clinic is doing a cracking business … it worked out, and we thank you wholeheartedly for it. But that's over now. You can call your free time your own again."

Yes, he could. Only thing was, he didn't want his freedom. He wanted to be knocking on Faith's door, seeing if they really had nothing more to give each other.

Instead, here he was, being offered a position he'd wanted more than his next breath for so long, and all he could think about was Faith—her smile, her passion for life, her everything.

By the time he finally got out of the hospital, it was past midnight. Faith had been exhausted earlier, and pale. She needed her rest, she didn't need to be kept up all night by his hormones, no matter how badly he wanted her.

So with a heavy heart, and a damn erection, he turned towards home, wondering all the while if that was it. If it was already over.

Over before they'd really even begun.

* * *

Within a few minutes of Shelby and Guy leaving for dinner, the violent spring storm that had been threatening all day finally hit. Perfect, as it suited Faith's mood. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed and rain thrashed against the windows of the clinic.

She tried to bury herself in paperwork, and it might have worked too, if her heart would just stop aching. Or maybe that was her stomach.

Definitely, food would ease the problem, it always had before.

One more glance at her watch.

He wasn't coming back.

Well, fine. It was what she'd expected, what they'd agreed to, so time to get over herself. No better way to do that than having Japanese food.

Besides, she suddenly didn't want to be alone, couldn't stand her own company. So she drove to the restaurant in the booming thunder and driving rain and hoped Shelby and Guy had ordered a huge feast.

They were thrilled to see her, and greeted her with hugs that almost,
almost,
broke her. "You want to know how I get over a man I'm too chicken to fight for but really want?" Shelby asked, scooting over to make room for Faith.

Faith let out a choked laugh. "What are you talking about? You've never been too chicken to fight for a man."

Shelby cocked her head and considered. "You're right. Guy, you tell her then, tell her how to get over a man."

"Hey, I don't have to get over anyone either, they all have to get over me!"

Faith sighed, then jerked around at the sound of a startled cry at the table behind them.

A woman had pushed back from her table, her eyes wide, her mouth open, her hands on her obviously very pregnant belly. "Oh my God," she cried, and made the unmistakable face of a woman bearing down.

Her husband leaped up and whipped his head around uselessly, a panicked look on his face. "Uh … honey? A contraction?"

"Well, it's not a picnic!"

Faith tossed her cell phone to Guy to call an ambulance and kneeled at the woman's side. "Ma'am? You're in labor?"

"Oh God. Yes!"

Faith stroked her arm. "It's okay, it's going to be okay. My name is Faith and I'm a nurse."

"Oh, thank God." The woman gripped Faith's fingers so hard the bone crunched. "I have to push."

"I know, but not yet." Faith massaged the woman's hands and arms until she relaxed slightly. "Breathe."

"Oh my God, that helps. Keep doing it."

"I will, you keep breathing."

"I need drugs!"

"Okay, just relax a moment." She and Shelby had found that with certain pressure points and therapeutic massage, they could often ease a woman's birthing pain with no drugs at all, and she kept her hands on the woman. "What's your name?"

"Susan."

"Uh, honey?" Her husband bent down and let out a shaky smile. "Maybe we should go to the hospital?"

"Go away, Frank, you smell like teriyaki sauce and it's going to make me puke!"

Poor Frank retreated a few steps.

Susan's pulse was thready, she was sweaty and her breathing was uneven. "Take a nice deep breath," Faith reminded her. "There you go. Just breathe with me, okay?"

"Breathing doesn't work!"

"Humor me for a minute. In and out … there you go, that's right." Faith brushed the woman's hair back from her forehead and was encouraged at how her touch seemed to soothe her. "Now, how close are the contractions?"

"Uh-oh … her water broke," Shelby said from the woman's other side. "Guy?"

"Ambulance is on its way."

"Here comes another one!" Susan cried, and slid off her chair in a boneless heap to the floor, much to the horror of everyone dining around them.

The manager pushed his way through the crowd, a small Japanese man who was wringing his hands. "No baby here, no baby here! People eating!"

Guy intercepted him. "Do you have a private room where she can go until they arrive?"

"Yes,
follow me." The Japanese man bowed to all the tables around them, apologizing.