I laughed once. “It’s not like you’re much older than she can be.”
“I’m old enough to be qualified.”
I tilted my head to the side as she touched the edges of my stitches. “Old enough to qualify as my lover?” I teased.
Pink shifted more to red on her cheeks. Getting a rise out of this woman wasn’t supposed to be this thrilling, but I couldn’t resist.
“Yourlover?” She quipped wryly. “My age wouldn’t be a qualifying factor in that.”
I smiled as she leaned closer to check over my shoulder. Every pressure point of her cool and soft fingers on my flesh zinged me with awareness. So did the heat of her focus on me.
“Are you hoping to be considered as my lover?”
She shook her head, taking a step back from me so quickly that she almost tripped over her feet. I shot my free hand out to catch her, and in the end, I held her between my legs, my hand on the small of her back.
“No.” Her blush suggested she was lying. The nervousness and shyness in her eyes proved she was. Being near me unsettled her, and I didn’t have to wonder why. I felt it too, this strange draw. This unique magnetism.
“I meant I am qualified to be your doctor, Mr. Orlov.” As she attempted to step back, I pulled her closer to me, pushing on her back until she was flush against me.
“Mikhail,” I corrected, dropping my voice to a husky rasp. “No formality’s needed in my home.”
She swallowed hard, gazing down at me. “Mikhail, I’m here to check on your wounds. Nothing more.”
“That’s it?” I splayed my fingers over her back, tracing a couple of them over the beginning swell of her ass.
“That’s it,” she said, flustered as she tried to step back. “I have no interest in anything informal or intimate with a mobster like you.”
I smiled, releasing her. It seemed that she had been leaning on me, though, because with my hand not at her back, she tripped again and fell sideways.
Right onto my thigh.
She sat there with a look of dismay, putting her hand out on my chest to catch herself.
I covered it with mine, holding her close as I slanted in. “I am curious about your habit of lying, Claire.”
“I’m not lying about anything,” she protested.
“Then why is your heart racing as you sit in my lap?” I teased, glancing at the pulse point on her neck and wondering if she’d taste sweet there.
“Because you… you startled me. You’re trying to intimidate me and tease me and insinuate something is brewing here when nothing can be.”
“You don’t sound so certain,” I taunted, dipping my head closer to see if I could taste something of her. Perhaps a hit of that judgment on her lips.
“Iamcertain.” She stood, unsettled from the nearness of my mouth to hers, our faces inches apart. “Because I’m not like the whores and easy women you normally go through, ruling as a Mafia boss and acting like you own the world.”
Backing up, she glowered at me through the uneasiness I’d encouraged in her, this flustered, blushing need to retreat. “You might want to dismiss formality, Mr. Orlov, but I won’t. You’d do well to get it out of your head that I’m stuck in your orbit for any reason other than to provide you with medical advice.”
I reclined, propping my arm on the top of the couch so I could lounge. “And what advice do you have for me, Dr. Donovon?” I asked with a sarcastic drawl, playing with her and using her formality she insisted upon again.
She snatched her bag, cutting this appointment far too short for it to be counted as a legitimate one. “My advice is that you stay in your world. And I’ll stay in mine.” With a hasty turn, she practically ran out of the room and let the doors slam shut in her wake.
Smiling at the urgency in her escape, I sat there and sighed.
Fuck her certainty.
I wanted her more than ever now.
Unlike the last time one of us rushed away after an encounter, I knew without a doubt that this wouldn’t be the last I ever saw of her.
