Here I Am (Arabesque) - By Rochelle Alers Page 0,45
be all right if I’m home alone for a few hours.”
Ciara peered at Brandt’s distinctive profile. “I may not get back until late.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he countered. “Now about your ex. Let me handle everything.”
“What are you going to do?”
Attractive lines fanned out around his eyes when he smiled. He released her hand. “I’m not going to bitch-slap him, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I also don’t want you to come with me.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ciara. I’ll tell my agent that I’ll need someone to help me from the car to the hospital entrance, and then back again. There are going to be cameras and reporters on hand because it will be a photo op. And I’m certain if reporters start asking questions, then your former coworkers will be more than forthcoming about you and your association with Dr. Seabrook. If he’d showed up to an event where he hadn’t been invited just to see you, what’s to say he won’t seek you out again if he knows you’re at the hospital?
“Think about it, darling.” The endearment rolled off Brandt’s tongue like watered silk. “The man has to have a tremendous ego if he resorted to lashing out physically because you rejected him. After all, he’s the high-profile, hotshot doctor who’s probably used to women throwing themselves at him. But you’d become the exception and he couldn’t deal with it. Guys like Victor Seabrook are dangerous and crazy, Ciara, and it would be better if you avoided him.”
“What I should’ve done was have him arrested for hitting me.”
“Unless you had proof of physical injury, then it would’ve come down to a ‘he said, she said.’ Remember, he’s the celebrity and you would’ve been looked upon as the jealous or spurned girlfriend.”
Ciara knew Brandt was right. The reason she hadn’t gone to the police to have Victor charged with assault was because she hadn’t wanted the publicity. Her position at the hospital would’ve been in jeopardy and her reputation tainted by the negative publicity. She’d taken the right course of action when she took steps to purge Victor Seabrook from her life.
“Thank you for listening.”
“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
Cradling Ciara’s head, Brandt moved his mouth over hers, exploring the soft lips parting under his as he deepened the kiss. The tip of her tongue touched his, pulled back, then emerged again.
His lips left hers to taste her earlobe, her neck, breathing a kiss there before returning to the sexy mouth that had the power to make him say and do things he hadn’t thought possible.
Ciara surrendered to the slow, seductive kisses that were as potent as any drug. Shifting, she turned toward Brandt, more than aware of his broken legs. Her hands were busy, tracing the contours of his chest and flat belly. She wanted to reach between his thighs and release his sex to her hungry gaze. Somehow she found the strength to pull away, her breasts rising and falling heavily as she struggled to control her breathing.
She was on fire and she needed him to extinguish it. “Can we, Brandt?”
Eyes wide, Brandt stared at the woman pressed to his side, seeing passion and indecision in her eyes. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “Yes, we can, darling.” His blood-engorged penis was so hard it hurt. “I’ll spread my legs and you lie between them.”
Ciara shook her head. “No. I’ll hurt you.”
He gritted his teeth in frustration, not wanting a repeat of what had occurred when she’d gyrated on his lap. “Then sit on me. Please, baby, I want you so much.”
Ciara felt hot tears prick the backs of her eyelids. Victor had never wanted her. He’d always needed her. “You’re going to have to protect me.” Whenever she slept with a man she’d insisted he use protection. She wasn’t ready to become a mother, and she was aware of the risks of contracting STDs.
Brandt closed his eyes, praying he wouldn’t come before he was able to penetrate Ciara. It wasn’t as much about having sex with her as making love to her. “There should be some condoms in the bathroom. They’re in the drawer with the shaving supplies.”
A sigh of relief slipped past his lips when she left the bed to get the condoms. The tension that had been building between them for days made him feel as if thousands of tiny insects were feasting on his nerve endings. He’d found himself looking for every opportunity to touch Ciara, to