Wild Men of Alaska 02 - Moosed-Up

we are just dating?”
    “No.” His tone was sharper than he’d meant it to be. Well, hell. In for a pound and all that. “I want to be exclusive.” Isn’t that the word women used? What he really wanted was to move her in with him and never let her go, but that might have her packing and running for the Canadian border.
    “Like boyfriend and girlfriend?”
    More like husband and wife. “Yeah.” He’d take what he could get at this point. And having her call him husband might be a stretch this early.
    She seemed to roll the idea around as she rolled the wine around in her glass. She lifted the wine to her lips and drank, then set the glass down and stood. “Okay. Let’s take out my stitches.”
    So was that an agreement? Now who was off balance? Just like that, she’d taken the back reins. He bet she killed at chess.
    His chair scraped the floor as he stood to follow. Instead of taking him to her bedroom or bathroom, she opened the door that entered into the back of the clinic. A stab of regret hit his heart. She might want this to be impersonal or clinical.
    Well, she wasn’t going to get it.
    ***
    Eva opened an exam room and set the instruments needed to remove her stitches on a tray.
    He was keeping something from her.
    She wasn’t ready to have him touch her again. Not when her emotions were still reeling from his lovemaking. Why had she agreed to be his girlfriend? She wasn’t in high school or college for that matter. The man was keeping a secret from her, and she detested secrets. Why was she willing to do it, just because he was a God in the bedroom? Could she really be that easy?
    Apparently.
    He was so... much. More man then she’d ever dealt with before.
    “Ready?” Lynx asked, having stayed back by the door as she prepared the room.
    How long had she been standing there staring off into the photo of the northern lights hanging on the wall? “Yes.” Once the stitches were removed then she could show him the door and take the emotional breather s he needed.
    He came up behind her, and what air she had left in her body lodged in her chest. Just having him close, had her resolve scattering.
    He held out his hand to help her up on the examining table. The protective paper crinkled loudly in the stillness of the room as she lay on her stomach. She adjusted her robe so she wasn’t lying on the material, and he could easily raise it to get to her stitches.
    “Ready?” he asked again, his voice deep, dark.
    She nodded, knowing sh e wasn’t up to speaking.
    He dragged the silk over her skin to reveal the stitches. His breathing turned heavier, and she gritted her teeth to keep the moan from escaping from the sexiness of his caress.
    She turned her head to the side so she could watch him. His brows knitted together in concentration, and she heard metal rasp as he picked up the cutters from the tray. He took a seat on the rolling stool, and his left hand cupped the cheek of her bottom, pulling the skin taut. She shivered.
    “Are you cold?” he asked.
    “No.” Cold, she was not. If anything she wouldn’t mind a winter squall blowing through the room about now.
    Very professionally, he clipped each stitch and pulled them out. Total time couldn’t have been more than a minute. Yet, her nerves were so on edge she was sweating when he finished.
    “Got a mirror?” he asked, his voice husky as his fingers smoothed over the scar.
    “Counter.” She pointed to the hand mirror standing next to the sink. She rose on her elbows to get off the table.
    He placed his hand in the middle of her back and held her down. “Not yet.” He grabbed the mirror and positioned it for her to see. “Take a look.”
    She squinted and then squinted some more. “You’re good.” There was hardly a scar to speak of. Someone would have to be really close to find it. As close as Lynx currently was.
    He set down the mirror, his long arm easily reaching the counter while his body stayed next to her, his other hand still on her lower back keeping her in place. Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her.
    Right on the scar.
    A moan escaped her. No. She wasn’t going to do this. Not here. That’s why she’d brought him into the clinic. What said no sex better than an exam room? Okay, maybe wrong choice of words as he proceeded to examine her.
    “Lynx, we can’t.”
    “Oh, yes, we can.”
    “I work here. I can’t have sex here.”
    He laughed, his lips moving up her backside, uncovering her bottom completely.