When her other nipple was a hard pebble beneath his teeth, he straightened and studied his handiwork. The distended, engorged tips of her beautiful breasts made him so hard he had trouble focusing. But he knew his wife needed warming up before he took her, and somewhere he found a shaky sense of self-control.
He kept his eyes on hers as he worked her thighs apart and sought out the delicate button at the heart of her. Her ebony eyes went a molten chocolate brown as he rubbed her between his fingers.
“God, Coburn...”
He pressed his thumb against her in tiny, circular movements that had her eyes drooping shut as pleasure consumed her. “Look at me,” he commanded, stilling his movement. She opened them, hot color claiming her cheeks. Slowly, sensuously, he worked her, watching her orgasm build in her eyes.
Satisfaction lanced through him. “That’s the way I want you, sweetheart, wide-open, so I can see every part of you.”
She was too far gone to respond. He moved his thumb against her harder, faster, until she threw back her head, a shudder raking through her.
He shoved his shorts off and pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her thighs were trembling as he wrapped them around him and entered her with an insistent surge that took him all the way to her core. Her moan was pure satisfaction.
The sensation of being encased in velvety, hot muscle overwhelmed his control. In less than a dozen hard strokes, he found his release, his hips jerking hard against her as he spilled himself inside her.
Her name as he uttered it on a low, urgent groan sounded like the desperate plea of a man who wanted everything he couldn’t have.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GOD, SHE LOVED New York in the fall.
Diana smiled at the little terrier kicking up the red-and-orange-hued leaves on the sidewalk of their Chelsea neighborhood, sidestepped the frantic little pup and made her way toward the butcher shop. An extravaganza of color bursting with promise—that was what New York was like at this time of the year. She couldn’t get enough of it.
If it was the last place she’d expected to be, and she’d given up her dream of Africa, she now knew everything happened for a reason. She and Coburn clashing that night on his balcony, conceiving their baby, had been meant to make them face their feelings. To pull them back from the brink before it was too late for them.
She pulled open the door of the butcher shop, musical chimes announcing her arrival to the handful of customers in the store. She and Coburn had been home for three weeks now, during which time she’d transplanted her life back to Manhattan, focused on supporting her husband through what might be the biggest challenge of his career with this recall and bought a new home in Chelsea.
After grudgingly agreeing to go see the insanely expensive town house Coburn’s business acquaintance was selling, she’d fallen in love with the wildflower garden in the back rather than the extensive entertaining spaces and gleaming kitchen. She’d also come to love Chelsea. Coburn was right. It was the perfect place to bring up a child: vibrant, hip and family friendly, miles away from the very proper environment she’d been raised in. And maybe she needed that—to start over in every way with her husband.
She gave the butcher her order for the dinner they had planned with Frankie and Harrison and sat on a stool by the window to wait. Something had happened the night she and Coburn had come together in that raging storm that had electrified them both. She had finally penetrated the rock-hard exterior he’d adopted. Maybe not as completely as he had scaled her defenses, because her husband was now a complex enigma of a man she wasn’t sure she’d ever know entirely. But she did know when he expressed true emotion.
It had ruled him in the kitchen that morning on the island when he’d confided in her about the recall and taken her with a desperate need he couldn’t hide. Since then, he’d been letting her in. He was allowing her to support him through this crisis. It was clear he wanted, needed her on a level that was more than just sex. What that was, exactly, she wasn’t sure. It was the piece still tugging at her gut.
She turned her attention to the stream of passersby, tucked into jackets and sweaters to ward off the chill. She couldn’t deny it was strange to be running domestic errands instead of battling her way through a list of cases in the OR. She missed it. She missed it as if a piece of her identity had been stripped away. But she also knew this break had been good for her. She’d needed to take a step back and think about what she really wanted. Rescuing James on that cliff that night had confirmed everything about why she’d become a doctor. She needed to get back to that feeling, to that soul-deep confirmation that what she did mattered.
But right now her husband needed her. Her marriage had to come first for the next few months until her husband weathered this crisis.
Coburn’s words on the way home from the Kents that night had stayed with her. She couldn’t spend her life allowing what-ifs to rule. She’d spent her entire marriage doing that. Wondering every time she and Coburn had an argument if he was going to leave. Petrified he would. She’d crippled them before they’d even gotten started. And it hadn’t just been her marriage. She’d spent her life afraid to put herself out there. Afraid to say what she really wanted. Burying her identity in a job she couldn’t let go of because to do that meant she had to figure out who she really was.
She was figuring that out now. This opportunity she had with Coburn to make things right, to grab the happiness she knew they could have, was about building a new foundation for her life based on what she wanted for the future. On who she wanted to be. She needed to let her heart rule, not the insecurities that had driven her her entire life.
She watched a woman walk by with her toddler son wobbling beside her in a chunky knit sweater and pants, his hand tucked in hers. A throb pulsed low in her abdomen. She wasn’t messing her marriage up this time. This time she was going to be the one to offer her all. And if the thought of making herself that vulnerable made her want to throw up, so be it.
“Diana—I thought that was you.”
She looked up to find Frank Moritz, her mentor and the surgeon whose pediatric fellowship she’d refused to beg for, making his way through the door of the shop. She’d been so far in her head, she hadn’t even noticed him walk by.
He was as tall and dominating as ever, and there was a distinct European twist to his mouth as he bent to give her a kiss on both cheeks.
“I thought you were in Africa working. Or have I screwed up the timing?”
“No—” She hesitated. “My plans changed. I’m back in New York.”
He fixed her with one of his trademark aggressive studies. “Well, that’s an interesting development. I wanted you for the fellowship. Why didn’t you compete?”
She swallowed. Lifted her chin. No time like the present to start speaking her mind...
“I thought my work spoke for itself. I didn’t want to win a popularity contest with you, Frank. I wanted you to choose the surgeon who deserved it.”
He kept up that level stare, as if deciding whether or not to take the insult. Finally he inclined his head. “You were the best. I wasn’t happy with any of the applicants. It’s still open if you want it.”
Her heart sped up in her chest. Oh, my God. Then the reality of her situation kicked in. She was pregnant. Even if she told him the facts and he was okay with her taking a few weeks off to have the baby, it would be an excessively short period for her to bond with her child. Nothing as Coburn had envisioned.
She dipped her chin. “I’m not sure it’s the right timing for me.”
His gaze narrowed. “You know what this fellowship is worth, Diana. The window is narrow. I’ve got to make a decision by the end of the month. Think about it.”
How could she not? It had been her dream to work with him.
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
His cool blue gaze rested on her face. “Tell that possessive husband of yours it’s only a couple of years. He can have you back after that.”
Or not. Coburn would lose his mind if she brought this up. She wasn’t going to say anything until she’d thought it through.
Frank glanced at his watch. “I must go. You know where to find me. I’m glad I ran into you.”
She felt as if a train had hit her as his tall figure disappeared through the glass door. Fate was being very cruel. To offer her her dream at this crucial point in her marriage with a baby on the way? When she’d finally come to peace with her circumstances? What was this particular test supposed to accomplish?
Head spinning, she collected her shopping and walked home to Coburn’s apartment they were still sharing until the house was ready. He got home ten minutes before Frankie and Harrison were due to arrive, dark shadows under his eyes as he dropped his briefcase to the floor.
Her heart stuttered with the same half beat it always did when he walked into a room. He had the whole distracted hot-man-in-a-suit thing perfected. And then there was the fact she knew every amazing inch beneath it...
Setting the bread she was cutting on the counter, she walked to the door, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss. He snaked an arm around her waist and returned the kiss with a hungry force that underscored the edginess she’d read on his face.