She groaned. ‘I’m never going to live that down, am I?’
‘If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would’ve said it was a vicious rumour. Someone as calm and confident and efficient as you, panicking. But it’s nice to know you’re not really superwoman. That you have panicky moments, like the rest of us.’
She blinked. ‘You’re telling me that you have panicky moments? I’m not buying that one. I’ve worked with you. OK, so you let me lead, this afternoon, but we both know you have more experience than I do. You were being nice and trying to restore my confidence after the abseil.’
Oh. So she’d picked that up. ‘Mmm,’ he admitted.
‘And I appreciated it. Because it worked.’
‘Good.’ He paused. ‘Do you trust me as a doctor?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, that’s a start. And so’s this.’ He leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers. Briefly. Sweetly.
And the second he felt her lips part slightly, he was lost. He couldn’t pull away. He gave in to the desperate need to kiss her properly. Within moments, she was kissing him back, her hands were cradling his face, and it felt as if stars were exploding in his head.
When he finally broke the kiss, they were both shaking.
This really wasn’t supposed to happen, Sydney thought. I wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him. This was meant to be just putting a bit of fun back into my life. Seizing the moment. Enjoying a casual date. And now I’m way out of my depth, because I want this to go further—a lot further—and I think he feels the same way.
Which means I’m going to have to tell him the truth about me.
Ice trickled down her spine. Down the scar. The physical reminder of the thing that had smashed up her marriage. The thing that had stopped her having a relationship since her marriage had broken up, because the scar on her back and the ugly patch of skin on her arm were constant reminders of Craig’s betrayal and the reasons behind it, making her want to keep her distance. And there was no way she could bluff her way through it, because if she went to bed with Marco it would mean getting naked. That he’d touch her. Look at her. He’d either feel the scar tissue or see it for himself—and then he’d ask questions. Of course he would. Anyone would be curious. And then … oh, hell, then she’d have to be honest.
She really owed it to him to be honest now. So he knew exactly what he was getting into, if he started seeing her.
But the words stuck miserably in her throat and refused to come out.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘Well, I’m not sorry for kissing you. I enjoyed it. But I am sorry for pushing you out of your comfort zone, for taking this faster than you’re happy with.’
‘I’m sorry, too,’ she whispered. ‘For—for being such a coward.’
He stroked her face. ‘You’re not a coward. I’m rushing you. So I’ll go home now.’ He took her hand again, kissed her palm and folded her fingers over his kiss, just as he had before. ‘And I’ll see you at work tomorrow.’
‘OK.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you for this evening. I enjoyed it.’
‘So did I.’ The expression in his eyes was so sweet, so gentle, that Sydney was close to tears. She ached to be able to trust. To be normal. To be whole.
But that wasn’t going to happen. And somehow, she was going to have to find the right words to tell him tomorrow at work.
The truth.
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