The Nurse's Wedding Rescue (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 2)

He was biding his time.

So it came as no surprise when he finally looked at his watch and reached for his jacket.

‘Time to go home,’ he said easily, taking her hand and nodding to his brother. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Still holding her hand tightly, he led her out of the pub and they walked to his car.

They drove home in silence and by the time he finally pulled up outside Bryony’s cottage, the tension between them had reached an almost intolerable level.

Oliver switched off the engine and stared into the darkness for a moment.

Then he turned and his eyes burned into hers. ‘Helen, we both know what’s going to happen once we walk inside that door so if this isn’t what you want…’

Delicious, forbidden excitement squirmed low in her stomach and suddenly she found the answer she’d been searching for. ‘It’s what I want.’

She didn’t understand why, but Helen had moved beyond trying to understand what it was that she felt for Oliver.

‘Then let’s go inside.’

He unlocked the door of the cottage but instead of putting on the lights he walked straight through to the cosy living room.

‘Oliver?’ She followed him through, stopping in the doorway as she realised that the room was full of candles. And Oliver already had half of them alight.

He must have set them up before they left for the evening and she hadn’t even noticed.

The flickering light gave a seductive, mysterious glow and Helen watched as he lit the log fire.

She was still wearing her coat and he crossed the room towards her and slid it from her shoulders, his eyes holding hers.

‘I happen to love this room, but if you’re cold then we can go upstairs…’

‘I’m not cold.’

‘You’re shivering.’

‘That’s not because I’m cold.’ She closed her eyes, aware that his clever fingers were making short work of the tiny buttons on her cardigan.

‘So why are you shivering?’ His voice was low and husky and she felt the seductive brush of his fingers against her flesh and suddenly she was standing there in only her lacy bra and her jeans. ‘Why, Helen?’

She swallowed, her heart pounding as she stared up at him. ‘Because I want you. But I’m scared, Oliver.’

His hands stilled. ‘Scared?’

‘Scared of hurting you.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘I don’t know what I want. I don’t—’

‘Shh…’ He covered her lips with a gentle finger. ‘No more talking.’

And just to make doubly sure that she couldn’t talk, he lowered his mouth to hers.

And his kiss snapped the last of her feeble resistance.

Stifled by sexual anticipation, her heart thudding out of control, Helen lifted her hands to his jumper and instantly he took over, dragging his mouth away from hers and stripping himself naked to the waist.

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Her pulse rocketed and her breathing stopped. For the past few weeks she seemed to have become more and more aware of Oliver’s body but even those increasingly frequent glances hadn’t prepared her for the reality. And she hadn’t known it was possible to want a man with such fierce desperation.

Her eyes slid down his muscular chest, following the line of curling dark hairs that trailed downwards and vanished under the waistband of his jeans. And then her gaze slid lower still to the very visible evidence of his erection straining against the unforgiving fabric.