with the room — the Lucia Clinic thought of everything — and pulled on a pair of panties.
She gave her hair a quick rub with a luxuriously fluffy towel. The beauty of her fine, feathery locks was that they only took thirty seconds to dry off.
Katya eyed the bed as she wandered out of the bathroom. It was exactly as they had left it that morning. Neat and tidy, the duvet smoothed of any lines. A bit like their relationship —straight and orderly.
Not messy and passionate.
The thought of lying on it without Ben was strange and yet it beckoned to her, her tired brain hopeful that, without a sexy male dominating it, she might just be able to sleep. She sat on the edge and lowered herself back, turning on her side immediately and tucking her knees up.
She had a fleeting moment of indecision as sleep claimed her that maybe she should change into her pyjamas in case Ben came back. But she was so tired and what if he did? The gown covered her from neck to toe.
It was her last conscious thought for five hours.
*
Ben opened the door, ready to greet her, when he completely lost his train of thought. Katya was fast asleep on her back on the bed, a vision in white towelling. The belt at her waist had loosened and the lapels of her robe gaped slightly to reveal delicate collarbones and pale, milky skin. His eyes followed the gaping fabric, which showed a glimpse of the curve of her waist, the rise of one bony hip and the dip of her flat stomach.
Her legs were almost totally exposed with just a scrap of white cotton hiding her modesty from him and the whole room smelled of cinnamon.
Smelled of her.
His frustrations from the day, from the last God knew how many days, all surged to the surface and he was overwhelmed by the urge to completely part the robe and just look at her.
All of her.
He walked across the room to the bed, as if drawn by an invisible force, and sat on the edge. The way she looked, relaxed and peaceful, made the air hard to breathe, and the room shrank until there was just him and her and the bed. His hand shook as he lifted it and hovered it over her stomach, over the place his baby was nestled and he gave in to the urge to touch her there, to cradle his baby as he had seen her do so often.
Katya’s eyes flew open. It took her a few seconds to break free of the clinging folds of the best, dreamless sleep she’d had in weeks. She was disorientated, momentarily confused by her surroundings. ‘Ben?’
Had she conjured him up?
‘Sorry.’ He withdrew his hand. The creamy inner curve of her breast played peek-a-boo with the gape of the gown lapels. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
Katya shook a head still filled with cotton wool. ‘Did you want something?’
You. Under me. Now. If only he could think of something to say that didn’t involve the damn bed.
‘Ben?’
Katya searched his face in the gloomy late afternoon light of the room. The heavy cloak suddenly evaporated and she was captivated by the desire in his eyes. She’d seen that look before. Still remembered the pleasure that had followed.
His brown gaze was hot. He wanted her, she could see it. A flare of heat seared her pelvic floor muscles. She felt them contract and the rub of cloth against her sensitive nipples was so excruciating she thought she might faint if he didn’t soothe it with his hot, wet mouth.
He looked sexy as hell in his scrubs and her mind was full of images of how much sexier he looked out of them. She became acutely aware of her own state of undress. Nights of erotic dreams had left her ripe for this moment.
‘I just came to check on you,’ he said, his voice husky.
‘Oh.’
Ben willed himself to move away but didn’t seem to be capable of anything more vital than breathing. ‘Have you been asleep all this time?’
She nodded. If he didn’t get out of here soon she was going to scream. Or combust. Or demand that he make love to her.
Ben saw the blaze of desire in her blue eyes and knew his choices were running out. He should move away, leave the room, immediately. Or maybe he could just kiss her? They were hardly strangers. They’d slept in this damn bed every night