Pippa's Fantasy by Donna Gallagher

near it. Clean yourself up in the showers—Pip can help you with that. Go home and rest until the scan. I’ll let you know what comes next once I get a look at the results.”
    Pippa choked back a gasp as the doctor mentioned Rook’s spa, the memories of her time with Rook still very fresh in her mind. Her eyes, which only moments ago had been reluctant to meet Rook’s, were now drawn as if by some magnetic pull to his. She was once again trapped under the weight of his stare, mesmerised by him.
    It was clear to her that the memory of their tryst was still just as prominent for him, as well.
    Pippa had to focus on the doctor’s instructions, but it was not an easy accomplishment when her body was on fire, needy from the memories of Rook and what he had done to her in his spa. Images flashed through her mind, reminding her of the way she had sensually exploded. Her nipples tingled as she remembered the feel of the cold tiles as her breasts had bounced on the side of the spa, while Rook had slammed into her body from behind. Pippa felt the red flush flow up her neck onto her cheekbones as she fought to regain control over her traitorous body, could see that Rook understood what she was feeling, as if he had somehow tapped into her memories and thoughts.
    “Phillipa, did you hear me? Do you understand my instructions? Can I leave Rook in your capable hands?” the doctor repeated sternly.
    “Yes, Doc—get Rook cleaned up, fit the knee brace and send him home on crutches to rest up for tomorrow’s MRI.”
    Pippa was starting to believe she had a future on the stage at the way she’d been able to act so in control when she’d finally answered. Even her voice had sounded quite normal, when on the inside she was in turmoil. Her emotions were building, raging throughout her body like a tornado looking for its most destructive path. How on earth was she going to help Rook, the man who shook her to the core, shower and dress without becoming a blubbery mess of female hormones? Surely one of the male members of the Jets staff should take over from here?

Chapter Sixteen
     
     
     
    Pippa was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not seem to realise her face was projecting her emotions, or that Rook was watching her with a morbid intensity.
    He thought he’d heard her say she loved him, but the look of distaste was clear for him to see—it was written all over her, obviously put there at the thought of helping him shower. He must have heard wrong. The way she was looking now was not the expression of a woman in love, he was certain—it was that of a woman shocked at what she was about to endure.
    Rook had also thought he’d witnessed a flicker of desire flash in her ocean blue eyes as the doctor had mentioned his spa, but he must have misread the situation there as well. He assumed it must be the pain medication clouding his mind, and making him see things he wanted to see as opposed to the truth. He really needed to get over Pippa Rodgers. Move on. She just wasn’t interested.
    “Shit, what a cock-up this year is turning into. The whole fuckin’ year is shot. All that training, and what for? I didn’t even last through the first game.” Rook couldn’t help his angry tone or his raised voice as his frustrations grew in proportion to the receding pain. “And now I’m going to be forced to endure your presence and good intentions twenty-four fucking seven, not to mention the pitying looks from every other goddamn person I know, and that’s all before Mum gets wind of it…” 
    The unexpected sound of Pippa’s mobile phone ringing made them both jump, and interrupted his tirade.
    “My God! What now?” Pippa exclaimed as she grabbed her phone from her pocket and read the screen to see who was calling.
     
    She was in shock at Rook’s outburst, wondered if anyone else had heard him rant at her. She just wanted to crawl away and find some hole in the ground to hide in. She had not realised how much Rook