distraction from the look he had seen in her eyes. The frank sexual hunger there was startling and he was pleased to have an operating table and a scrub top to hide his instantaneous reaction.
Sleeping in the same bed every night, her warm body and cinnamon scent temptingly close, especially when he knew what delights her body held, was becoming increasingly difficult. Even more so when he kept catching brief glimpses of that look he’d seen again just now.
Mostly she was polite and friendly but from time to time, he could see she wanted him. And, God help him, he wanted her, too. It had been months since they had made love, since she had given herself so freely and completely, and it had fuelled his every night-time fantasy since.
Each night was an exercise in self-control. And Ben prided himself on it. She had made it clear that their cohabitation would not be sexual and he had given her assurances that he would respect her wishes. But he was just a man, just flesh and blood, and he was damned if he was going to keep his hands to himself if she kept looking at him like that.
‘Good, let’s start,’ he said even if that look had just completely shot his concentration. Something that didn’t bode well for this morning’s theatre list. ‘Scalpel.’
The list was as frustrating as he’d thought it would be. Katya could barely meet his gaze. She seemed tired and distracted, yawning frequently. Consequently, their timing was off so things took longer, and he dropped an instrument, which he’d never done before, and they couldn’t get his CD to work, and the op turned out to be more involved than he’d bargained for which meant the list finished later than scheduled.
By the time he closed the last patient he was in a foul mood, his staff were on edge and Katya was visibly annoyed at him. ‘I want to talk to you,’ Ben said as they left the theatre and stripped their gowns off.
‘Go to hell,’ she said, dumping her gown in the linen skip.
One of the theatre nurses nearby gasped and Ben smiled, despite his mood. Only Katya would dare to tell Count Benedetto Medici, Director of the Lucia Clinic, to go to hell.
‘Lovers’ tiff,’ he said in Italian, and shrugged dramatically as he watched Katya stride away.
He caught up with her a few minutes later as she grabbed a cup of coffee from the dining room. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ she said abruptly. Nothing that a spot of sex wouldn’t fix.
Ben put a hand under her chin and noticed the dark circles under her eyes. ‘You look tired.’
‘That’s because I am tired,’ she said irritably, annoyed at the tingling of her skin where his fingers were resting.
Ben castigated himself. ‘Why didn’t you say something, cara? You’re pregnant, for God’s sake!’
‘I’m pregnant Ben, not dying.’
He took the cup from her hands and gave it back to the waitress.
‘Hey, I need that!’ She needed something to pep her up for the afternoon list.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Caffeine is no good for the baby. You need sleep, not something that’s going to keep you awake.’
‘Ben —’
‘Go to bed, Katya,’ he ordered, placing his hand on her shoulder and priding himself on how steady his voice sounded when his mind was full of images of her going to bed.
And him joining her.
Kissing her neck, stroking her back. Caressing her hip.
‘We have an afternoon list,’ Katya said, her voice husky as he lightly massaged the muscle that sloped from her neck to her shoulder. It felt so heavenly, somewhere between asexual and erotic, and she could feel her eyes closing in response, her body swaying towards the source of pleasure.
‘It will be fine, cara,’ he murmured.
She looked done in, out on her feet. Why the hell hadn’t he noticed how tired she looked until now? Spending hours behind a mask every day was no excuse.
‘Come on,’ he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her to their quarters. ‘I don’t want to see you in Theatre again today,’ he told her as he unlocked their door and pushed her gently inside.
‘Thanks, Ben,’ Katya murmured.
He nodded then shut the door and got the hell away before he was tempted to go back and join her.
Katya had a quick shower, doubting whether she’d be able to sleep with her skin still tingling, her shoulder still burning from his touch. She stepped into a towelling robe that had come