Page 2

“Who said I was trying to be?”

Ana pauses, clearly debating whether to stay. Then she picks up the menu, flipping it open with exaggerated nonchalance. “Fine. You’re not hungry for food, but I am. Let’s see if the kitchen’s as fancy as the decor.”

For the first time all evening, I feel a spark of something other than grief. It’s been a long time since someone pushed back against my walls with such casual ease.

“What’s your deal?” I ask.

She peers at me over the top of the menu. “My deal?”

“You sit at a stranger’s table, throw out lines like you’re auditioning for a rom-com, and act like you belong here. Why?”

Ana sets the menu down, meeting my gaze head-on. “Because you looked like you could use someone who doesn’t care about your grumpy disposition.”

The air between us shifts, her words cutting through the haze in my head. For a moment, I just stare at her, trying to decide if she’s the best thing to happen to me tonight—or the worst.

“Well, Ana,” I say finally, leaning back in my chair, “if you’re going to stay, you’d better make it interesting.”

Her smile widens. “Oh, I intend to. It’s my last night in Cape Town, and I’m feeling…reckless.”

We don’t speak as we make our way through the opulent hotel lobby, the air between us buzzing with something electric and unspoken. The click of Ana’s heels against the polished marble floors is sharp, confident, and wildly at odds with the soft floral scent she wears. It’s distracting.

“Lead the way,” she says when the elevator doors glide open. Her voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge of tension in it, like she’s daring me to call this off.

Instead, I hit the button for my floor and lean against the wall, watching her. The small, secretive smile she gives herself as the elevator ascends is enough to drive me mad. I’m supposed to be grieving, for God’s sake, but she’s a reprieve I can’t bring myself to walk away from.

When the elevator dings, she steps out first, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet. Second thoughts?”

I follow her down the hall, my steps slow and deliberate. “Not even a little. Just wondering what’s going on in that head of yours.”

She stops when we reach my door and turns to face me, her gaze steady, unflinching. “I don’t do this often, just so you know.”

There’s something vulnerable about the way she says it, though she tries to mask it with a raised brow. I slide my key card into the door, pushing it open before stepping closer to her. “Neither do I,” I admit, my voice dropping as I let the truth hang between us. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

Her lips part, but whatever quip she’s about to throw my way vanishes as I close the space between us. My hand cups her jaw, and then I kiss her.

It starts soft, tentative even, like we’re testing the waters. But it doesn’t stay that way for long. Ana leans into me, her fingers fisting the front of my shirt, and I lose what little composure I was clinging to.

I press her back against the doorframe, deepening the kiss, my free hand bracing against the wood beside her head. She tastes like wine and something sweeter I can’t name, and it’s intoxicating.

When I pull back, just enough to catch my breath, her green eyes are stormy, a little wild. “Are you going to let me in, or do you plan to make out in the hallway until the staff kicks us out?”

I smirk and push the door open wider, stepping aside to let her pass. As she walks in, I shrug out of my jacket and toss it onto a nearby chair.

Ana turns to face me, the faintest hint of hesitation flickering across her face. “For the record, this is probably a terrible idea.”

I step closer, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently into me. “Then why haven’t you walked away?”

Her lips quirk upward. “I’m a doctor.” She shrugs. “I like to fix broken things.”

The weight of her words punches me in the chest, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I lean down, capturing her mouth again in a kiss that says everything I can’t.

We lose ourselves after that. Her dress is the first casualty, pooling at her feet as I trail my lips down her neck, and squeeze her bare breasts with my hands. Her nails rake against my shoulders, her breath hitching when my hands move to skim along the curve of her waist. She’s relentless, meeting every touch with one of her own until we’re a mess of tangled limbs and frenzied need.

By the time we make it to the bed, we’re both bare, skin against skin, hearts pounding in unison. I squeeze her breast and suck her hard nipple into my mouth. It earns me the most delicious sigh. She pulls on my hair, and I growl, loving the hint of pain. I lift my gaze and find her eyes on me, cheeks flushed a deep red as her chest rises and falls in an unsteady rhythm.

I switch to her other nipple, her breast full in my palm. She wriggles her hips, and I suck in a breath when the head of my cock slides against her clit.

“You’re wet for me,” I murmur, my voice deep and hoarse. “Is your cunt greedy, Doc?”