Free Doctor's Orders by Ann Jennings Page A

“It was just a little kiss,” she muttered, trying to back away.
    But he would have none of it. This time he did hold her tightly, his arms closing around her and drawing her towards him in an iron grip. “Just a little kiss!” he echoed sarcastically. “Well, well, well! In that case, perhaps I’d better do something to make it more memorable.”
    Before Isabel could protest his mouth descended on hers once more. This time not so gently, but with a demanding sexuality she couldn’t deny. Willingly, her trembling lips parted, allowing his invading tongue to plunder her mouth and her senses. His strong hands slid slowly and surely along her body in a caressing, erotic stimulus, and Isabel found herself responding, an unnamed desire driving her along the path towards fulfilment. She knew she was drowning in deep waters beyond her experience, but felt powerless even to try to do anything. Again, it was Mike Blakeney who broke the moment and, drawing away from her, said, “Don’t tell me that was ‘just a little kiss!’” His voice sounded strangely hoarse as he added softly, “Come to bed.”
    â€œNo,” protested Isabel, her voice faltering. “I can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?” he demanded huskily, preparing to kiss her again, but this time Isabel was ready for him, and neatly sidestepped his reaching arms.
    Trembling violently, she leaned against the fridge, grasping its cold sharp edge as if to reassure herself that she was still on the same planet she had started off on that evening! “I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me,” she said, trying to make her voice sound firm and matter-of-fact. “I’m not in the market for casual relationships, and I certainly don’t feel that I have to pay for my dinner by going to bed with you!”
    Turning, she walked quickly out of the kitchen on legs that moved with a wooden jerkiness. Every nerve in her being was screaming out to be taken in his arms again, but commonsense and a touch of fear forbade her to turn back. It was true, she was not in the market for casual sexual relationships. That had been one of the problems with Hugh Sinclair, something had always held her back then, just as it was holding her back now.
    â€œWhat a pity,” he said scathingly, coming up behind her, “we could have had such a good time.”
    â€œI can have a good time without going to bed with you!” retorted Isabel tartly, annoyed at his sarcastic tone of voice. “I don’t need any favours from you, thanks.”
    He folded his arms as he observed her through half closed eyes. “You surprise me. I didn’t think you’d be the old-fashioned type!” he said, raising his eyebrows in an infuriating expression of amusement.
    â€œYou can call me what you like,” replied Isabel firmly, “I just don’t believe in sleeping around.”
    He shook his head impatiently, “I’m not asking you to sleep around. I’m asking you to let me make love to you.” He came closer, his voice low, “I know you would enjoy it.”
    Isabel raised her head and looked him full in the face, challenging him, her blue eyes flashing an icy fire. “You say making love,” she said scornfully. “That is just the point as far as I’m concerned. Love with a capital ‘L’ has got to come into sex, and where you and I are concerned it doesn’t. I don’t even know you properly, I’m not even certain that I like you!” She turned away, staring out into the darkness of the garden. “It wouldn’t be love, it would be lust, and I would lose my self respect.”
    He gave a short laugh. “Is that so important?”
    â€œTo me, yes,” snapped Isabel, “although I realise it is unlikely to be high on your list of priorities!”
    She heard him sigh angrily behind her. “What a difficult woman you are,”