House Calls (Callaghan Brothers #3)

“I see.” She bit her bottom lip, and he noticed her eyes swirling again. When she spoke a few moments later, it was slowly and deliberately, as if working through a particularly complex problem. “So, as a doctor, that would have gone against your sense of duty and responsibility.”


He searched her face for some clue as to what she was thinking, but found nothing except the subtle glimmer in her eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, then, you should probably know that I’m not feeling all that great right now.”

The glimmer brightened just a little as she looked up at him from beneath slightly-hooded eyes, and a little tendril of hope started to bloom in his heart. “No?”

“No. I’m feeling a bit light-headed, in fact.”

“Definitely not a good sign,” he said shaking his head with concern as he stepped closer, closing the gap between them. Both of his hands cupped her face, his gaze intense. “Any nausea?”

She put her hand on her belly. It was a nice touch. “A little.”

“Hmmm.” He lowered his head, looking deeply into her eyes while stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Double vision?”

“Yes,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “Lots of that.”

He bit back a smile and tried to give her his best stern doctor look. “Maggie, I don’t think I should leave you alone tonight.”

Her eyes swirled and sparkled. “It would totally go against your Hippocratic oath.”

He smiled slowly. Her lips, parted slightly, were impossible to resist. He dipped his head more, and when she stretched toward him, there was no reason to. The moment his lips touched hers, he was lost. They were so soft, so welcoming, and felt unbelievably good against his own.

Michael inhaled her sweet breath, took it into his body, instantly coming to the realization that it was like a drug to him – intoxicating and highly addictive. When her lips parted further, he reveled in the taste, like sweetness and cinnamon. Someone moaned; he couldn’t be sure if it was her or him.

Maggie’s arms snaked up around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way downward to her back, pulling her against him. Soft and pliant, she responded, pressing her body against his.

An eternity later, Michael somehow found the strength to pull away, though he kept his arms around her. His heart was pounding in his chest, blood pumping through his veins. Never had a kiss had such a complete and devastating effect on him. Maggie’s arms clung to his neck, her lips red and slightly swollen from his kisses, head tilted to him in surrender, eyes closed. The image of her, just like that, was burned forever into his mind.

*

Maggie was glad Michael was holding her, because her legs were so weak she probably wouldn’t have been capable of standing on her own. Lord, but the man knew how to kiss! She no longer had to pretend she was feeling dizzy; Michael had seen to it that her internal sense of balance was now completely shattered. She tried to remember all of the warning symptoms he’d told her to look out for, those that might indicate a serious concussion, but her mind was no longer capable of thinking of anything except that kiss.

Her eyes opened ever so slowly to find him staring at her, looking every bit as surprised as she felt. She took great personal satisfaction in that; clearly she had not been the only one deeply affected.

“No one has ever kissed me like that before,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his mouth. “Would you mind very much if I asked you to do it again?”

––––––––

“Michael,” she murmured sometime later. She was snuggled in his lap in front of the fire, his arms around her, his hands roaming lazily over her back and shoulders, the outside of her thighs and calves as they made out like teenagers. His hands felt so good, so warm and strong and capable. Despite the fact that he kept his caresses to “safe” areas, it ignited a slow burn that heated her from the inside out. The man must have incredible self-control; other than an occasional deep-throated growly sound or nibble, he’d kept his kisses above the shoulders and his fondling PG. She knew he was aroused; she could feel the hardened proof of it beneath her bottom, yet he made no move to take things further. It was both a relief and a disappointment.

“Hmmm,” he answered, his voice muffled as he pressed his lips to the underside of her jaw. Each time he did, it elicited a shiver that ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

“I think we lost power.” The only light in the room was from the dwindling fire. The steady background hum of appliances and radiators was noticeably absent with only the muffled pelting of snow and ice against the side of the sturdy house.

He chuckled against her neck, sending little rumbles against her throat. “It went off over an hour ago, Maggie.”

“Did it now?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Michael?”

“Hmmm.”