“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want it.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on, I’ll get you some blankets. I don’t have the guest room set up yet, but my couch is comfy.”
“Anything would be better than my car,” he quipped, which earned him another roll of her eyes.
“You have no one to blame but yourself for your discomfort. You’re the one who chose to stay there. I didn’t ask you to.”
He trapped her against the shelves of the linen closet. “And I would’ve done it again tonight.”
They were so close. Chest to chest. Thigh to thigh. All he had to do was lean in and he could kiss her. Possess her mouth, and maybe instead of the couch, he could join her in her bed.
Isaac immediately slammed the door on those thoughts. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her or use the situation to get what he wanted. Instead, he reached past her and picked up the emerald-green blanket that was on the shelf behind her. “This ought to do me,” he murmured as he put some space between them.
Marie remained where she was for a few seconds before it looked like she gave herself a mental shake and closed the doors. “Right. Okay, then. Goodnight, Isaac.” She took a couple of steps then stopped, glancing over her shoulder.
He waited, expecting her to say something more, but all she did was lick her lips before continuing on her way and disappearing into her bedroom, leaving his body aching for her sweet touch.
Chapter Fourteen
Marie punched her pillow again,and sighed into the darkness. Her body screamed at her to go to sleep, but her mind was still in the hallway, her back against the shelves of her linen closet with Isaac pressed to her front.
Desire pooled between her legs, and she wished she’d been more forthright and pulled his head down for a kiss. Give in to the burning ache to know what it would be like to have his hands caress her body. Have his lips close around her breasts. Have his hard length, the one she’d felt resting against her when they’d kissed, fill her until they were one.
Now her whole being was aflame with a need that only Isaac could slake, and she didn’t have the guts to march out to the living room and lead him back to her room.
Sighing again, she rolled over and cuddled the comforter against her. It was a poor substitute for who she really wanted, but it would have to do.
She needed to sleep. Tomorrow at work was going to be as busy as it was today. There was never much down time in the ER. In all the time she’d been working in hospital emergency rooms, not once had all the beds been emptied and the staff were standing around waiting for things to happen. The only place she’d ever had some breaks between patients was when she was in San Carlion. It wasn’t a bustling metropolis like LA, but if she didn’t have patients to see, there were always supplies to count and paperwork to complete.
“Maybe I should count sheep,” she murmured into the night air. “Or count back from a hundred.”
She’d read about that technique somewhere and had tried it a couple of times. It always seemed to work. Somehow she didn’t think it would tonight. Not with an enticing man a few rooms away from her.
Annoyed with herself, she squeezed her eyes shut and started a countdown. She’d gotten to eighty-two when she stopped and sat up, sure she’d heard something.
Marie concentrated on seeing if she could hear it again. Silence reigned around her. There was nothing.She must have imagined it. She went to lay down again, when the sound came again.
Was that Isaac? Was he having trouble sleeping too?
Should she get up and check, or was she about to become one of those too-stupid-to-live characters in horror movies who always go to the basement with a shoe instead of a gun?
The sound of something smashing on the ground and a muffled curse had her forgetting about being the first one to die. She threw the covers back and raced down the hallway, flicking on every light as she went.
“Damn, that’s bright!” Isaac brought his hand up to his eyes. A bloody hand at that.
“What have you done?” She rushed into the room.
“Stop, there’s a broken mug on the ground.” Isaac’s shout halted her, and she took a second to survey her surroundings.
Her left foot was an inch away from being pierced by a shard of the pottery mug that now decorated her floor. “What were you trying to do?” she asked as she carefully made her way to his side, attempting to keep her attention on his hand and not on the expanse of tanned bare flesh. The sweats he wore hung low on his hips. The fabric clung to his thighs and other places where she shouldn’t be looking.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I was making myself some hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate?” She had hot chocolate? Since when did she buy hot chocolate?
“Yeah, I found a box of those instant packets in the back of your pantry.”
“Are they still good?” Lack of sleep and his state of undress was inhibiting her ability to think straight. Or comprehend that she even had any of those things in her cupboard. They had probably been left behind by the people who’d rented her place.
“Guess we’ll never know.” Isaac bent and scooped up the pieces of the broken mug.
