She was still catching up when he kissed her again.
Properly this time so she melted against him, parted her lips to his demanding tongue, and kissed him back, setting free all the frustration of the lust infection in that one kiss.
It burned through her body in such unfamiliar ways she knew she’d never been properly kissed before—or maybe had never responded properly—which might explain—
It sent heat spearing downwards, more heat shimmering along her nerves, tightening her stomach but melting her bones.
Her head spun and her senses came alive to the smoothness of his lips, the taste of spice on his tongue, the faint perfume that might be aftershave—even the texture of his shirt, a nubby cotton, pressed against the light cotton tunic top she wore, was sending flaring awareness through her nipples.
A kiss could do all this…
Gaz eased away, shaken that he’d been so lost to propriety as to be kissing this woman, even more shaken by the way she’d reacted to the kiss and the effect it had had on him. Heat, desire, a hardening, thickening, burning need….
For one crazy moment he considered taking things further, dallying with the nurse called Marni, seeing where it went.
Certainly beyond dallying, he knew that much.
Al’ana! Where is your brain? his head demanded. Yes, I thought so! it added as if he’d answered.
He looked at the flushed face in front of him, glimpsed the nipples peaked beneath the fine cotton tunic, the glow of desire in her eyes.
Yes, it would definitely have gone further than dalliance…
‘I had no right to do that. I have no time. None! No time at all!’ He spoke abruptly—too abruptly—the words harshly urgent because he was denying his desires and angry with himself for—
For kissing her?
No, he couldn’t regret that.
Angry at the impossible situation.
This time when he turned to lead her back inside, he didn’t touch her elbow and guide her steps but stayed resolutely apart from the seductive siren who’d appeared, not from the sky but in full theatre garb, then jumped like a kangaroo right inside his skin…
Obviously married, Marni told herself. Serves you right, kissing on what wasn’t even a first date.
But she was too shaken by the kiss to care what the sensible part of her brain was telling her. Too shaken to think, let alone speak.
Standing silently beside Gaz in the lift, the foot of space between them was more like a million miles.
Back in the foyer, he spoke to one of the young porters who seemed to abound in the place.
‘Aziz will see you back to the residence,’ Gaz told her, then he nodded once and was gone, seeming to disappear like the wraith he’d called her.
Aziz was beckoning her towards the door so she followed, deciding she must be right about his marital status if the man she’d kissed didn’t want to be seen walking her through the gardens.
So she was well rid of him.
Wasn’t she?
Of course she was!
The gardens were as beautiful as ever, the scent of lemon blossom heavy in the air, but the magic was dimmed by her memory of the kiss, and now that embarrassment over her reaction was creeping in, she was beginning to worry about the future.
She was a professional. Of course she could work in Theatre with Gaz without revealing how he affected her. Not that he didn’t know, given her response, but at least she didn’t have to be revealing just how hard and fast she’d fallen for the man.
Lust, her head reminded her, and sadly she agreed.
For all the good it was going to do her when he’d made it obvious he wasn’t available!
She sighed into the night air. It was all too complicated!
CHAPTER THREE
HIDING HER REACTIONS to Gaz in Theatre proved unnecessary, because although she worked for five straight days, he was never rostered on in the same theatre as her.
She didn’t kid herself that he’d had his schedule changed to avoid her, doubting she was important enough to cause such a change, and caution told her not to mention him to Jawa, not to ask where he was operating or seek answers to any personal questions about the man, in case she unwittingly revealed how she felt.
Besides, they just didn’t do personal conversations, these Ablezians.
But her reaction to Gaz had certainly put a damper on her virginity quest, other male colleagues seeming pale and uninteresting by comparison, although she did accept an invitation to the movies from a young doctor on Safi’s ward.
She’d even accepted a goodnight kiss but she had felt nothing, not a tingle, not a sign of a spark—and the poor man had known it and had avoided her ever since.
So she worked, visited Safi, and worked again until finally she had time off—three days.
Nelson had emailed to say Pop was talking to the surgeon but was still undecided about the operation, although now he could walk barely a hundred metres without tiring.