Free Surrender My Love by Lisa Eugene

patients were elderly.”
    Chloe’s teeth took hold of her bottom lip and she nodded, considering his words, thinking he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. She sighed. Maybe she was allowing her thoughts to run amuck. Plus, his nearness made it impossible to think clearly.
    “ I guess you’re right. I’m sorry I bothered you.” She stood and turned to leave.
    “Why are you really here, Nurse Bennett?”
    She turned back , surprised by his question and the rumbling timbre of his voice.
    “I—I told y ou. I was worried you suspected I’d done something wrong.” She hated that her words did not hold the conviction she intended.
    H e took the small step to her, his gaze holding hers and drawing her in, daring her to look away.
    “Is that what brought you to my office so early in the morning? Why you sought me out?” he asked softly, his tall frame towering over her. He was so close that Chloe could see a pulse skip lazily at the base of his jaw. His skin seemed darker against the gray of his suit. He was staring at her in a way that made her heart want to burst through her ribs.
    She swallowed nervously. Her gaze fell to those delectable lips then she turned her head quickly, latching on to a painting hanging across the room. She tried to force oxygen into her lungs as her breath quickened.
    He’s a jerk, remember? You don’t even like him…
    He was known to be a hard-ass overachiever who thrived on maintaining control. He was the shepherd who everyone flocked to, a natural born leader. She knew she wouldn’t be his type. A man like him would never take an interest in her.
    Repulsive . The word rode the wave of her emotion, dousing any hope that he’d find her even minutely appealing. She felt his gaze wandering slowly over her face, surely cataloging her flaws.
    Nodding, she responded to his question, again swallowing nervously. His voice then slid through the tension, soft and assured.
      “You know, the Freudian slip is a funny thing. Most people think of it as a slip in speech that occurs due to the interference of a repressed wish. That is true, but there’re other behaviors that can be quite Freudian as well…” He tapped a long finger against his chin and studied her. “Like going to see someone for one purpose when there is a deeper, more repressed motivation.” 
    Chloe’s eyes flared. She gulped, afraid to examine the veracity of his words.
    A long saturated silence passed between them. She was afraid to take a breath. He was standing so close she could smell his heady scent and feel his masculine aura like a tangible caress.
    “Do you want to know what my repressed wish is?” he asked softly.
    She managed a nod, her heart trudging laboriously.
    “Your skin is like porcelain. It’s beautiful. I want to see more of it.”
    She inhaled sharply, astonished. Slowly she shivered out her breath, replaying his voice in her head. She wondered if she’d conjured the voice and commanded it to speak so pleasingly.
    Why would he say such a thing?
    “It looks incredibly soft,” he whispered.
    Her breath quickened. She was afraid to move a muscle and continued to focus on the painting on the wall.
    “Is it that way all over , Chloe?”
    Chloe … He had called her that once before. She nodded, but was terrified to meet his gaze. She was afraid this fancy of her imagination would vanish into a sensible reality. The last thing she wanted right now was to be sensible.
    “Show me, Chloe.”
    She was sure her breath stalled in her lungs. Something electrified the air, making it warm and tingly. It buzzed along her skin. She focused on the painting. It had vibrant colors. Blues and reds and gold. It was lovely, compelling. Like the deep baritone of his voice. She wanted to get lost in it, wanted to sink into its lush sensuality.
    “Are your breasts as creamy? Are your nipples hard, Chloe?”
    She gasped because she realized they were indeed. Her nipples were tight, straining against the