Knight on the Children's Ward

Knight on the Children's Ward by Carol Marinelli Page B

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Authors: Carol Marinelli
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on call.’ He went upstairs and returned a few moments later with some items of clothing and a large white towelling robe. ‘Here.’ He handed her a toothbrush. ‘Still in its wrapper—you’re lucky I did a shop last week.’
    â€˜Very lucky.’
    â€˜So now you have no excuse but to relax and enjoy.’
    He poured her a large glass of wine and told her totake it up to the bath, and then he showed her the spare room, which had a lovely iron bed with white linen.
    â€˜You have good taste.’
    â€˜Spanish linen,’ Ross said, ‘from my grandmother…She’s the one who has good taste.’ On the way to the bathroom he kicked open another door. ‘I, on the other hand, have no taste at all.’
    His bedroom was far more untidy than his office, with not a trace of crisp linen in sight. It was brown on black, with boots and jeans and belts, a testosterone-laden den, with an unmade bed and a massive music system.
    â€˜This reminds me of Luke’s room.’
    â€˜You can come in with your bin liner any time,’ Ross said. ‘My door is always open…’ Then he laughed. ‘Unless family’s staying.’
    The bathroom was lovely. It had a large freestanding bath that took for ever to fill, a big mirror, and bottles of oils, scents and candles.
    His home confused her—parts looked like a rustic country home, other parts, like his bedroom, were modern and full of gadgets. It was like Ross, she thought. He was doctor, farmer, gypsy—an eclectic assortment that added up to one incredibly beautiful man.
    Settling into the warm oily water, she could, as she lay, think of no one, not one single other person, whose company could have soothed her tonight.
    His home was like none she had ever been in.
    His presence was like no other.
    She washed out her panties and bra, but stressed for a moment about hanging them over the taps to dry. They were divine: Kolovsky silk in stunning turquoise. In fact all her underwear was divine—it was one of the genuine perks of being a Kolovsky. It was seductive,suggestive, and, Annika realised, she could not leave it in the bathroom!
    So she hung it on the door handle in her bedroom and then headed downstairs, where he sat, boots on the table, strumming at a guitar, a dog looking up at him. She thought about using her fingers as castanets and dancing her way right over to his lap, but they’d both promised to be good.
    â€˜Why would you do this for me?’ She stood at the living room door, wrapped in his sister’s dressing gown, and wondered why she wasn’t nervous.
    â€˜Because my life’s not quite complicated enough,’ Ross said, with more than a dash of sarcasm. ‘Just relax, Annika, I’m not going to pounce.’
    So she did—or she tried to.
    They watched a movie, but she was so acutely aware of the man on the sofa beside her that frankly her mother would have been more relaxing company. When she gave in at eleven and went to bed, it was almost frustrating when he turned and gave her a very lovely kiss, full on the lips, that was way more than friendly but absolutely going nowhere. It was, Annika realised as she climbed the steps, a kiss goodnight.
    She could taste him on her lips.
    So much so that she didn’t want to remove the toothbrush from its wrapper. But she did, and she brushed her teeth, and then when she heard him coming up the stairs she raced to her bedroom. She slipped off her dressing gown and slid naked into bed, then cursed that she hadn’t been to the loo.
    He was filling the bath.
    She could hear it, so she decided to make a quick dash for it, but she came out to find him walking downthe landing wearing only a black towel round his loins. His body was delicious, way better than her many imaginings, and his hair looked long, and his early-morning shadow was a late-night one now. She just gave a nod.
    â€˜Feel free…’ He grinned at

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