The Play

2. Olivia

Chapter Two

Olivia

I looked over at Liam Reed and had to fight to keep from returning his grin. He was devilishly handsome with his straight black hair, deep blue eyes, chiseled features and a body so muscled and fit, it was hard to keep from staring. I’d been working with athletes since my stint as a resident in medical school. I was quite accustomed to ridiculously handsome specimens who expected women to fall at their feet. Usually, their looks didn’t draw my attention and their attitude often turned me off. Liam was another matter altogether. The moment he’d pinned his eyes on me, my body had tightened inside, heat unfurling from my center and radiating outward. It made me restless, prickly and annoyed.

So, I bit my lip and looked down at my computer tablet, clicking through a few screens. My actions weren’t entirely pointless as I took another look at the MRI results. Medicine was my life and had absorbed most of my time, energy and intellectual capacity ever since I started college. I took comfort in the details of every case that I handled. My relentless attention to detail fit beautifully with orthopedic surgery. I hadn’t set out to work with athletes, but that’s where I’d landed. I’d graduated from medical school Summa c*m Laude and promptly walked into a position at Seattle Sports Orthopedics. At twenty-nine, I was the youngest doctor on staff there and constantly fighting to prove my worth. While I loved the surgery part of my job, my personality was an odd fit for most of the patients there. The clinic’s reputation rested on remarkable results, so we charged top dollar. That meant hordes of professional athletes. I coped with my mixed feelings about serving mostly wealthy patients by volunteering my time at a local medical clinic for uninsured patients on occasional weekends.

Liam’s case looked to be a clean procedure, but I was nervous. He was the highest profile athlete who’d ever walked through my door, and he made my body do funny things. I wasn’t a prudish person. For God’s sake, I was a doctor. But I found s*x incredibly boring. I didn’t have time for relationships and didn’t want to make time. Yet, here I had Mr. Sexy-as-hell soccer star sitting in my office and calling me by my first name with that teasing glint in his eyes. I clicked out of the MRI screen and looked up again. I could do this. This weird haywire thing my body was doing would pass.

My eyes collided with Liam’s bright blue ones, and my breath hitched. What were we just talking about? Scheduling his surgery. Right.

I swallowed and adjusted my glasses, brushing an errant curl out of the way. “In that case, I’ll have them book you for first thing in the morning.”

He nodded. “Right then. What time is early for you, luv?”

He was going to have to stop talking. It made me nearly mad that he just called me ‘luv’ and some part of me, a side I’d never even known existed, liked it. That British accent of his sent flutters twirling in my belly. I could feel my cheeks heating and desperately wished my skin didn’t flush at the slightest provocation. “Early is six in the morning. You’ll be scheduled for arrival then, and we’ll operate by eight.” My voice sounded tight, and I prayed he wouldn’t notice. He barely knew me, so how could he?

“Perfect. Who’s we?”

His eyes held mine in a lazy, teasing look, and I lost track of what I’d just said. “We?” I asked.

“You said ‘we’ would operate. Aren’t you the surgeon?”

“Oh yes, but there will be a team. Myself, the anesthesiologist, a nurse and so on.”

One of his dark brows arched up. “I see. I trust you’ll be the only one doing whatever it is you’ll do to repair my knee.”

Once again, I saw a flicker of something other than confidence in his eyes, as when I’d mentioned the tear to him a few minutes earlier. I experienced a pang of sympathy for him, my heart giving a little squeeze. Something about him led me to think he rarely doubted himself, or much of anything. This tiny window into his hidden vulnerability got to me. I suddenly realized I was sitting there staring at him and gave myself a mental shake. Focus, Olivia. Focus. I nodded firmly, nudging my mind back into action. “Absolutely. Everyone else is there for support. I’ll do the actual surgery part. Maybe we should take some more time to review…”

He shook his head sharply. “I’d rather not hear the details. Just make my knee right. That’s all I ask.”

His anxiety about his knee was painfully obvious, and it made my heart clench again. It also helped me latch onto a bit of sanity. No one wanted to worry about losing the function of a joint, but a world-class athlete, well, that took worry to an entirely new level. “I meant what I said earlier—the tear isn’t bad. I’m confident you’ll be good as new once your recovery is complete. You’ll need to follow a strict regimen of physical therapy and…”

Liam’s grin returned, it’s force so powerful, my pulse lunged. “Olivia,” he began, his tone holding a hint of haughty, just enough to make my belly do a slow flip. “I’ll do absolutely everything you tell me. Not to worry about that.”

I literally had to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling. Flustered beyond belief, I spun around on my stool and pulled up my email on the laptop, firing off an email to Jane who handled all of my surgery scheduling. A prickle ran up my spine, and I knew without looking that Liam had stood and stepped in my direction.

I spun again to find him taking another step. If he was in any pain at the moment, he didn’t show it although he took only one step before resting his weight on his good leg. Even with a streak of dirt on his cheek and a temporarily injured knee, Liam Reed was the definition of pure, raw sexy. His body was a work of art. I’d never thought about it much, but right now I realized I had a strong preference for the build of a soccer player. He was lanky and muscled and moved with grace and economy. When I’d received the hurried call from the Seattle Stars office with the news one of their high-profile British players was on the way here, I’d quickly looked up Liam. I didn’t search anything other than his sports bio because that’s all I wanted to know.

He was considered one of the best midfielders in the world. He’d led his last team in Britain to the league championship in his first year. Seattle news had been filled with reports about the grab the Seattle Stars soccer team had made to snatch Liam and three other players from England at once. I was used to athletes, but Liam was about as high profile as it got around Seattle. I’d had to suffer through a mini-lecture from his team doctor before I came in to meet Liam. I suddenly realized I was staring at him. I was close to level with his face from where I was sitting on the stool. Before I realized what was happening, Liam reached a hand out and gripped the edge of my seat, rolling me toward him, the damned wheels of the stool quite oblivious to my internal resistance.

I was suddenly mere inches away from him, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. He emanated an easy strength, so inherent to him it was almost unnoticeable save for the depth of its power. His eyes searched my face, while I seemed to be frozen. Under usual circumstances, if a patient got this close to me, I’d quickly back away. Yet, everything about Liam threw me off kilter. My heart was beating wildly and my cheeks heated again. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached up to adjust my glasses, a nervous habit I’d never managed to break.

“I love your glasses,” Liam said, his crisp words falling into the quiet.

Unable to speak, I simply nodded. He angled his head to the side. “I think I’m not supposed to do this, but damn if I can help myself.”

While my mind was spinning wildly over what ‘this’ was, he reached over and removed my glasses. He set them carefully on the counter beside us. I swallowed and tried to rein in my pulse. I wanted to cross my arms and create some kind of barrier against the vulnerable feeling welling inside me. It’s not like I could actually hide behind my glasses, but they were a layer and now they were gone. A curl that had been tangled around the temple of my glasses sprung free and bounced against my cheek. He spun the curl around his index finger, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. My heart was pounding so hard and fast, I was surprised I didn’t topple over from the reverberation in my body.

I couldn’t look away from Liam’s eyes. Fire spread through my veins and the air fairly snapped under the force surrounding us. What the hell was going on? I needed to break out of this moment and now, but I couldn’t. All I could see was the blur of Liam’s bright blue gaze and the hint of mischief in his eyes, while I had to squeeze my knees together to quell the throb there.

He pulled my curl out, stretching it and then letting it loose where it bounced on my cheek again. “Olivia,” he said, almost thoughtfully.

Suddenly, I managed to latch onto some sanity and grabbed the side of the counter and pushed back, the wheels of my stool rolling me back swiftly. “What are you doing?” My voice sounded screechy. I hated it when I sounded like that. I was flustered and flushed—hot inside and out. I abhorred feeling out of control like this and certainly wasn’t accustomed to it.

Liam appeared unperturbed and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I wanted to see what you tasted like.”

If I’d thought I was hot before, I had no idea what hot was. While I should’ve been thinking he was crazy, I was wondering what he would taste like, even worse I was wondering just what it would be to be tasted by him. Sweet hell. This man made me crazy.

“You can’t…” I started to speak and ended up shaking my head wildly.

“Why not? I want you. You’re not so sure you want me, but you’re curious. You’re definitely curious, my dear Olivia.” His mouth curled on the corner, a dimple appearing.

I tore my eyes away because it was becoming downright dangerous to look at him. “I can’t…we can’t do anything like that. I’m your doctor and I’m about to perform surgery on your knee. You can’t… you have to stop this.”

I could feel his shrug, although I’d turned my back to him. My eyes landed on my glasses on the counter, and I reached over to slip them on.

“We’re two consenting adults. If that’s the only thing holding you back, let’s make a deal. We’ll wait until after the surgery.”

I didn’t like how out of control I felt, not one bit. Annoyed, I spun back around. “We aren’t waiting to do anything. If you think I’m going to just leap into your arms because you’re some kind of soccer god…”

A flash of irritation passed over his face. “Football. It’s football.”

I waved a hand dismissively, latching onto my annoyance at feeling out of control. “You know what I mean. Anyway, I’m sure you’re used to women falling all over themselves for you, but that’s not me. I don’t do this. Honestly, s*x bores me to tears. I’m sure you think I’m some kind of novelty, but it’s not worth your bother. Let me do what I do best and get you back to playing. This, whatever this is you’re doing, needs to stop.”

The teasing look in his eyes had faded, and he looked genuinely startled. Good. He needed to back the hell off. I could get my stupid body under control, but it would be much better if he’d keep his hands to himself.

“You think s*x is boring?” he asked, his tone incredulous.

I didn’t even try not to roll my eyes. “Downside to being a doctor, at least for me. I see bodies all the times, including plenty of men in just as good a shape as you.” I conveniently omitted the fact it was a miracle I hadn’t literally swooned at his feet a few minutes ago. “s*x is for the purpose of procreation, nothing more. I’ve tried it and found it wanting,” I said dismissively. I meant every word I said, yet the moment the words left my mouth, I wondered what it would feel like to experience s*x with Liam. All he’d done was exist in the same room with me—injured and clearly not up to par for his usual state—and he’d made me feel things I’d never felt. I could not go there.

Liam’s eyes widened as I spoke. He shook his head wonderingly. As I sat there in the silence, my belly did another slow flip at the look in his eyes.

“You’ve just guaranteed I won’t be dropping this, luv, ” he said, that subtle hint of haughty in his tone doing funny things to my insides again.

My mouth went dry at the look in his eyes, and I could feel the wetness between my thighs. I swallowed. “What, what do you mean?”

“You can’t go through the rest of your life thinking s*x is boring. We’ll have to remedy that.”

For an injured man, he moved like lightning. He snaked his arm out and grabbed onto the stool again. In a flash, I was inches away from him, my heart beating so hard, I was afraid he could hear it.

“Maybe we’re not supposed to do this, but this will give you something to think about until after my surgery.”

He brushed that wild curl off my cheek and dipped his head. His lips came against mine, and electricity jolted through me so hard and fast, I gasped. Holy hell could he kiss. He took his sweet time, dusting my lips with soft kisses, nipping my bottom lip, slipping his tongue inside on a breath. Somewhere along the way, his hand tangled in my hair and he stepped in between my knees. His body was all hard planes and strength. I could feel the ridge of his arousal against me and moaned into his mouth when he nudged his hips into mine. A spike of pleasure shot through me at the subtle point of contact. I wanted more. Now. But he didn’t give it to me. He held still and just kept on kissing me. The glide of his tongue against mine made me delirious. I didn’t realize I’d slipped a hand up along his chest, savoring the feel of the muscled planes, while I arched into him, desperate for more. Until he slowed his kiss, easing away. He lifted his head, and I was suddenly horrified.

I’d just kissed one of my patients, right here, right now in my examination room. On a scale of one to ten for how horrible this was as far as my career went, this was a solid ten. My eyes collided with his. He looked as startled as I felt. He gave his head a slight shake before stepping back carefully. Reflexively, I reached out to steady him, aware he needed to be careful of his injured knee.

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. Still holding my gaze, he nodded almost as if to himself. “Well, Olivia,” he began, his tone sly. “That should give you something to think about. Don’t you dare try to pretend that was boring.”