 
### Table of Contents

Chapter One: The Clinic Building

Chapter Two: The Clinic Building Entrance

Chapter Three: Radiology Suite at the Clinic Building

Chapter Four: The Night Before Surgery

Chapter Five: The Morning of Surgery

Chapter Six: The Hospital during the Nor'easter

Chapter Seven: Six Weeks Later

Chapter Eight: Monday, Lunch Time

Chapter Nine: Board of Directors meeting, Lyric Opera of Boston

Chapter Ten: Logan Airport: Flight 486 arriving from Paris, a Saturday night in October

Chapter Eleven: Back in Boston

Chapter Twelve: The Opera

Chapter Thirteen: The Hotel

Epilogue

Dear Reader:

Other books by L.C. Giroux

# The Clinic Building

Dr. Michael Dennison hated seeing new patients. He enjoyed their cases but not the first meeting. Having been an orthopedic surgeon for enough years now, he had an established routine when entering an exam room with a patient he had not seen before. He would enter, shuffling his papers and charts to announce himself, but avoid eye contact. He would put the X-rays on the light box and act like he was looking at them. All to give the new patients time to get used to the idea that the man in the wheelchair could actually be their doctor.

Their surgeon, more precisely. He would maintain this charade for five or so minutes before addressing them and seeing the pity on their faces. In truth, the patients were not what he hated; it was the pity. Along with the poor attempts to look anywhere but at the wheelchair. He expected his next patient would be much the same as all the others. He flipped through her chart.

Violet Bellows, age twenty-nine, seeing him for surgical correction of spondylolithesis. From her X-rays, he was surprised at the degree of slip in someone so young, but there had been trauma to the vertebral bodies hastening the degeneration. He took a deep breath, best to get this over with.

He knocked and, hearing her answer, rolled in while looking at his notes. He moved to the light box, hung the X-rays, and began to study them--or at least appear to.

He was surprised when he heard her say, "If you don't mind me asking, how do you do surgery?" He was shocked at her challenge to his skills. He quickly turned around, his shock forgotten.

In front of him sat the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. Her skin was the color of whipped cream. Her eyes were dark rich brown, her full lips and cheek had a deep rosy blush. But her hair was indeed her crowning glory. Almost black, it hung to nearly her waist in renaissance curls. She wore it over her shoulders in such a way that even in the johnny coat she was breathtaking. She reminded him of a temptress from a Vatican painting. "Excuse me?" He coughed to cover his lack of composure.

"I wondered how you do surgery."

Michael found the most intriguing thing about her challenge was that she directed it to his face, not over his shoulder, or staring at his chair, but actually looking him in the eye. He searched her face for some kind of condescension, but he only saw intelligence and warmth. He almost smiled.

"I worked with a group to develop a wheelchair to my exact specifications that does this." He pressed a button, and the hidden engineering whirled to life. In a couple of seconds he was in a standing position. "It's a simple matter of hydraulics and weights, really. I have enough torso and upper body strength that I can do anything that any other surgeon can. In the process, I can save my patients from a life such as mine," he said as he lowered himself back to a seated position.

"You mean the life of a handsome and famous surgeon?" Now she was laughing at him, and her laughter sounded like the tinkling of bells. But he heard no slight, and it wasn't for several seconds Michael even realized she had called him handsome. He sputtered and finally got some control of himself and the situation.

"Yes. Right. Let's see what your issues are then, shall we? If you look at your X-ray here and here, you can note the vertebra are shifted significantly forward. This is putting tremendous strain on these discs and compressing the cauda equina, the nerve fibers at the base of the spine. That is why your legs go numb and you fall. Have you had any pain associated with this?"

"No."

He had expected more from her, but when he turned to look at her now, she was changed. She seemed smaller, as if having to talk about her situation was too much to bear.

"You've had no backaches? No charley horses?"

"Oh, some, but that is just part of life."

"No, not in your case, Ms. Bellows. You have a grade four slip of all of these vertebra. I can think of only one other case I have seen in someone so young. We will need to get you in for surgery soon. I'll have the nurse set you up in the schedule, but this will have to be soon."

She looked at him through her lashes, her face unreadable. Was she scared? He couldn't tell. He found her beautiful but distant. "Will it be very painful?" she finally asked in almost a whisper.

"I can't lie to you. We do have very good pain control methods available, but yes, I'm afraid the days just after surgery are not pleasant even with a morphine pump. Unfortunately, without it you are looking at being in a wheelchair within the next few months. If it comes to that, I don't know that we would be able to get enervation back even if we did surgery. Can you stand in front of me?"

She got off the table and stood facing him. She was about five foot five and fairly slim. Michael noted that her hips were even but tipped forward at a severe angle. She showed the sway back associated with her condition. "Now, walk to the door, stop, turn around, and come back." She did as she was told. "Yes, you have a classic presentation. I could probably have diagnosed you without even seeing the X-rays. I will need a few more images, CAT scans, and an MRI before we bring you in for the surgery, but we should be able to get those done quickly."

He had turned and started to leave when she said, "Will I be ugly still?" His chest felt like he had been kicked. How could a woman this spectacular worry about being ugly? He turned back to her, noticing her lashes were now wet. He was not in the habit of giving compliments to his patients or anyone else for that matter. He knew for a fact the nursing staff, while respecting his work, sought to avoid having to deal with him.

For this woman, he wished he could be polished, more articulate. He searched his mind, his love of opera, food, wine, beautiful art, but could come up with nothing that compared to her. Finally he gave up and tried for honesty. "You are already so beautiful, a small thing like straightening your spine will have very little effect." Lost in trying to pay her a compliment, he had not realized he had placed his hand on her knee. He saw her look down and blush. He immediately felt her skin go warm through the thin cotton of the gown. He pulled away as if he'd been burned.

He had no idea he could make a woman respond to his mere words like that. "Well, yes... I should go and let you get dressed. You need to stop at the front desk. They have the list of things to be scheduled, and then my nurse will set up the surgery date." His mind was chaos. He needed to get out of there quickly. Thankfully, a returning patient was waiting for him next. After getting outside the door, Michael's hands were shaking. What had this woman done to him?

# The Clinic Building Entrance

Violet thought that would never end. Everyone was so worried about the patient experience, but it would be a lot better if the appointment process were more streamlined. She made a mental note to talk to Allyn about it. She let her thoughts drift to Dr. Dennison again. He was unarguably attractive in a buttoned up way, even in scrubs. What was it about him that made her want to unbutton him? She had become very practiced at no longer looking men in the eye. That way she didn't see the initial attraction fade when they saw how deformed her back was.

Could her interest only be because in a wheelchair he was "safe"? He'd understand what it felt like to be stared at for something you couldn't control. Maybe. But the silky sandy blond hair, sapphire blue eyes, close cropped beard, and those broad shoulders didn't hurt. He had already called her beautiful. Just thinking about him saying it made her light up as if it were Christmas. Hmm, good. She'd need that to be nice and warm to go outside. She hated winter and yet couldn't really live anywhere but Boston. It made no sense, but she loved the house. And Allyn was there. Living in the huge place together allowed her to feel like she was part of a family still, even if it was just the two of them.

Stepping out of the building, her attention was drawn to the street by the blaring of car horns. The light had changed, and someone crossing in a wheelchair was still in the crosswalk. It took a second to register that the chair must be stuck, either with a power failure or snow clogging the wheels. "That poor man!" All she saw of him was his overcoat and a fedora. She couldn't stand around and not try to help him. She ran into the traffic now, trying to go around him. Once she reached him she asked, "Is there a way to release the drive so I can push you?"

Michael Dennison had never been a patient man, but at times like these he could be a complete bastard, and he knew it. Some do-gooder wanting to help the cripple. Just what he needed today. He growled, "I can deal with this myself, thank you very much."

"If you'll just let me help, I can get you across the street, and then you can be on your way," the woman yelled over the blaring horns.

"I said I am fine, thank you!"

"Look, you are obviously not fine. You are stuck in the middle of traffic, and if you don't tell me how to release the mechanism so I can roll you to the curb, you are going to get us both killed." Shouts now added to the car horns.

"I didn't ask you to help."

"No, but I'm here now, and you obviously need it. Stop being so pig-headed and... oh, here is the damn release." Violet flipped the switch and pushed the miserable man across the street. Once they were safely out of traffic she moved to the front of him. "It's all well and good having your pride, but it is not worth getting killed over, or worse--taking someone else with you." She gulped when she realized the man she was screaming at was indeed her handsome doctor. "Dr. Dennison! I...well, don't thank me!" She turned on her heel and entered the building.

Michael sat staring at her as she walked away. Wonderful, the one patient that hadn't pitied him outright now thought he was a complete prick.

"Brilliant, Dennison, just brilliant," he said out loud. Today was shaping up to be a top ten worst of all time. And to make matters worse, he had to go to records and sign off on some charts before lunch.

Violet was supposed to meet Allyn at the hospital president's office, but she was still too angry to be civil and called him to catch up with her down in the lobby. They could go to the cafe in the atrium. He took about twenty minutes to finish up his meeting and found Violet reading a magazine there.

"How did your appointment go?"

"Oh, fine. I need surgery soon, as in I'm scheduled in two and a half weeks. With the number of tests and X-rays and whatever, I should probably just get a bed here now." She was getting flushed the more she talked.

"Whoa, what is up with you? You knew you were going to need to have surgery. Why so pissed now?"

She debated telling him about Dr. Dennison, but he would get all protective and feel like he needed to do something about it. Dennison might not be a great human being, but he was an excellent doctor, and she didn't want to delay the surgery any more.

"Oh, you know I hate winter, and they are talking about a once-in-a-century storm coming."

"It's weeks away. You can't worry about it yet. Probably won't even get here. Let's get lunch. I think you're cranky because you need food."

Hard to argue with reason. She led him into the cafe to get some sandwiches. She had chosen a sandwich from the cooler and was turning around when she ran smack into Dennison. Allyn was just on the other side of him.

"Ms. Bellows..."

"Come to exact revenge?" she hissed.

She looked up at Allyn staring at her. "Allyn, this is my doctor. Dr. Dennison." She stepped around Michael, handed her tray to Allyn and walked out.

Both men stared at her retreating figure in a daze. "Um, sorry. I don't know what's gotten into her. Allyn Bellows," he said as he stuck out his hand. Michael shook it. "Sorry. I better go see what is wrong with her."

Michael Dennison silently cursed himself.

Of course, a woman as beautiful as she would be married. And to a guy that looked perfect and obviously cared about her. There would be better times to apologize to her when she came back for tests before the surgery. Michael felt deflated. He hadn't allowed himself to be attracted to a woman for as long as he could remember. Who the hell was he kidding? He was stuck in this damn chair, and there was no way a woman like her would saddle herself with a man like him.

Allyn paid for the food and found Violet standing near the doors at the front of the hospital. "Here's your sandwich. Did you want to take it with you, or do you want to go back and eat here?" Violet turned and looked at him, and he swore she had been crying.

"I...I want to go home. I'm sorry, Allyn. I am just emotionally rung out. I knew what the doctor was going to say, and I thought I was prepared. But you know how terrified I am of hospitals and the thought of surgery. Allyn put his arms around her and swallowed her up in a bear hug. He was thinking about the accident and how he had almost lost her too. She was shaking as he held her.

"I know you're scared, but this is not anything like when you were a kid. You'll only be in for a couple of days and then home with round-the-clock care. I even arranged for a spa to come in and give you a treat each day: manicures, pedicures, facials, anything you want to spoil yourself with. I was going to surprise you, but you know I'm horrible at keeping secrets."

She looked up at him and smiled. "You are the sweetest brother a girl could ever have." And she kissed his cheek.

# Radiology Suite at the Clinic Building

"Okay, miss, lie very still, and this will be over before you know it. Myself, I'd take a nap," the elderly X-ray tech said.

Violet almost snorted at the thought. She'd love a nap. The nightmares from after the accident had come back. It didn't seem to matter that as an adult she could rationalize that it was her subconscious trying to work through things she still couldn't really deal with. She still woke up screaming and then couldn't go back to sleep. Allyn wanted her to take the sleeping pills a doctor had prescribed, but she never reacted well to those things. The only saving grace in the round of appointments was that she probably wouldn't run into Dr. Dennison. She didn't figure him for the type to associate with the techs.

The MRI whirred to life, and the spinning magnets got loud. Violet could feel her panic rising. She tried deep breaths, tried finding her happy place, finally she started yelling, "I can't do this anymore! I need to get out of here right now. I mean it!" The whirring stopped, and she sucked in great gulps of air.

"Ms. Bellows, I'm sorry, but I really am going to need these images," came a voice from outside the machine. It was deep and male. Definitely not the tech's kindly old woman's voice. The table slid back out of the machine, and she came face to face with Dr. Dennison. Oh God, how much had he heard?

"Ms. Bellows, what can we do to make this a less traumatic experience? Is it a claustrophobia issue?"

Violet wasn't sure if it was left over panic or not, but her heart was galloping in her chest, and she had trouble catching her breath.

"I'm sorry. It brings back horrible memories from my childhood. The noise combined with the close space."

"What if we piped some music in, would that help distract you from the noise of the magnets? Do you like opera?"

I... yes, I love opera." She found him confusing and beguiling. "Why are you trying to help me?"

"In part because you are obviously terrified of this thing, and I really do need these images to do your surgery."

Violet tried not to look disappointed, then she narrowed her eyes.

Michael fought to avoid audibly gulping. That glare was pure hardened steel that he could imagine happily cutting out his heart and handing it back to him wrapped in a bow.

"So should I yell at you?" Violet said. "You looked pretty shaken the other day in the street."

"That is the other reason I am trying, and evidently failing, to be nice. It would go a long way to making me feel less like an ass for the way I acted then."

"Apology accepted, though I did notice there was no actual apology. Now, how am I going to get through this?"

"I only need lower spine images, so I can visualize the nerves better when I am doing the surgery. Would it help if...well...you were able to lie with your arms up over your head, and I... I could hold onto your hand so you would know you weren't alone?"

"That would help. Add in some opera, and I might get through it."

Michael realized she was actually smiling. His chest tightened, and he wondered what it would be like to have her smile at him like that all the time. Then he chastised himself for forgetting that she was indeed married.

He went into the control room and cued up some music from his phone. As he rolled back in, the opening bars of _La Traviata_ started to play.

She beamed.

"Of course this was my favorite even as a child. Mother used to put on the music and tell me the story. She always called it _my_ opera."

"But of course, Violetta. Now, do you need a pillow under your back to make you more comfortable? How about under your knees?"

"Yes, both of those would help." He went to get some small pillows, and Violet became acutely aware of the fact that she was lying there in a johnny coat, panties, and socks. He offered his hand so that she could pull herself up to sitting, then he positioned a pillow for the small of her back and had her lie back down. He rested a hand on her stomach as he adjusted the pillow, and she felt its warmth spread through her body and pool in her abdomen. She blushed with thoughts of what it would be like to feel his hands all over her, and her skin glowed from the heat the thought caused. He went to the far end of the tube and asked her to bend her knees. She did as she was asked and felt a cool breeze on her bottom. Oh God, why had she chosen today to wear her best French lace panties. She wanted the confidence good lingerie gave her. Damn, she couldn't have just chosen plain white cotton. She felt herself go hot again.

Michael tried to position the pillow under her knees, but from his seat in the chair the angle was difficult without looking right at her. When she bent her knees, he saw the flash of lace, but more intriguing was the fact that her panties had ridden up slightly and showed just a bit of cheek where her bottom met her thigh. He had an almost irresistible urge to run his thumb nail along it to see if she would shiver. Damn, Dennison, it isn't an apology if you turn into a lecher. He took a deep breath to clear his head and wheeled himself back to where she could see him. He handed her another pillow and told her to place it between her thighs. It would keep her legs from shaking. "How does that feel now?" he asked.

"Much better, thank you." She found herself staring into his eyes. They were clear blue with a dark rim, so they looked darker, almost navy. She found them fascinating but sad and guarded. She searched his face--high aristocratic forehead, aquiline nose, high cheek bones, sandy blond mixed with gray beard and mustache. He looked like a Renaissance hero in a modern suit, her musketeer. She smiled at the idea of that.

"Go ahead and put your arms over your head. Are you still comfortable? Do you need more pillows under your back?"

"Yes. Just one should be fine." She hoped that he would touch her again, but no, not this time.

"Okay, I am going to have them slide you into position in now. And perfect timing, your first aria is about to start. Concentrate on the music to help drown out the noise of the machine. I'll be right at the end of the table holding your hands." Her eyes went wide as she slid into place.

"I'm right here, Violetta. I won't leave you."

Violet swallowed hard as the table stopped moving and she was fully in the tube. She could feel her panic rising, but then a warm hand held hers. She grasped at it with both hands and felt his other hand enclose hers. She could hear him talking to her through the speaker. Quietly, he said, "Should I tell you the story of your opera?" She squeezed his hand to say yes. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax as he began whispering about _her_ opera. She couldn't believe she was in a hospital, having an awful test no less, and she was indeed relaxed. Dr. Dennison was a miracle worker.

From his vantage point at the end of the table, he looked down the length of her, and it was killing him. He warned her that the magnets were going to start spinning and continued telling her the story. The fan to alleviate the feelings of claustrophobia must have been cold because he saw her nipples harden under the thin cotton wrap. He stopped speaking for a minute, lost in the thought of what would it feel like to have this woman under him. Have it be him that brought her nipples to peaks. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. What would it be like to make her breath quicken, her heart pound, to take her to the edge of arousal and watch her tumble over it? She squeezed his hand, snapping him out of his daydream. He took a ragged breath and shouted inside his head, MARRIED! PATIENT! NEVER FOR YOU! Trying to restore some sanity to his thoughts, he continued the telling of the opera.

They had all the images he needed by the middle of act two, where Violetta and Alfredo were happily ensconced in a country house and before the appearance of his interfering father. Michael was secretly relieved that he was able to leave the story on a happy note. Silly, considering she was more than familiar with the outcome, but it pleased him anyway.

He escorted her to her dressing room and waited while she dressed.

When she came out, Violet was surprised to find him waiting. She blushed to the roots of her hair, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. "I... you have no idea how much what you did helped. I never could have gotten through it otherwise."

She gave him a shy smile, lighting her face as if by candle light. Michael didn't know you could be this happy and this miserable at the same time. If he hadn't actually gone to medical school, he would swear his heart was breaking into pieces in his chest. He forced himself to smile back.

"Yes, well...you're almost done with the gauntlet of tests. I'll see you back here for the surgery in three days."

"What about the storm they're predicting? It is supposed to be bad."

Michael tried not to laugh, but she looked exactly like six-year-old praying for a snow day. "You'll need to be here by 5:30 a.m. It isn't supposed to get going till later in the day. At that point you'll be stuck here whether it snows or not, I'm afraid." She looked a little crestfallen. "If it is any consolation, I'll be here too." He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her smile return.

# The Night Before Surgery

Michael woke gasping for air. His chest was pounding, and his pulse raced. He glanced at the clock. 3:52 a.m. He'd have to get up in a couple of minutes anyway, but that was some damn dream. Odd, he wasn't one of those people that ever remembered their dreams, but this was so vivid. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a sex dream. He looked down at himself, disgusted. He'd been dreaming about Violet, doing things he wouldn't dare even if he could, and despite free reign of his sexual fantasies, the best he could manage was a sort of half hard erection.

The reality killed even that. She was his patient. She was married. She was way out of his league. He might be handsome if he weren't surrounded by hardware, but she was breathtaking. The kind of woman men felt lucky to stand near, let alone touch. He didn't know why, but he sensed that there was more to her than she let people see. The steel hidden in all that silk. He sensed it when they had first talked, with the way she dismissed the pain she had felt. He saw it again when she had taunted him about his lack of apology.

He loved the fact she'd called him on it. Everyone was afraid of upsetting the cripple, so they treated him like the broken man he felt like. She didn't. She expected him to act like a man and a decent one at that. The things he was doing in his dream were not the things a decent man did to a woman like her. In the real world she held all the cards, she would determine whether or not he could see her and how. In his dream he was the dominant one, telling her exactly what he was going to do to her. Not that it was ever going to happen in the real world.

He needed to get going, or he would be late for surgery.

Violet groaned when her alarm blared. She turned it off and hid under her pillow for a few more seconds. But if Allyn had taught her anything growing up, it was that sometimes you just needed to be there. And in this case she needed to be at the hospital and be ready to have surgery. The car would be here in half an hour to pick her up, and she wanted to wash her hair and braid it so it wouldn't get in the way of the doctors.

She smiled. She imagined most of Dr. Dennison's female patients ended up with crushes on him. After all, it wasn't everyday a handsome, intelligent, caring man focused all of his attention on you. It was more than a little addictive. And his hands were so warm. Weren't doctors supposed to have cold hands? Okay, enough daydreaming about the handsome doctor, she needed to get to the hospital.

This would have been so much easier if Allyn had been here, but it couldn't be helped. He had wanted to cancel his trip when the plans changed, but the work was too important to just give up on something they had spent years building. She wasn't going to let the Indian government put off the mother and child welfare clinics just because she needed to get her back fixed. Allyn had promised that he would be there when she woke up. He was going to call and speak to Dennison before the surgery anyway.

# The Morning of Surgery

Michael had been at the hospital for an hour already and it was only 6:05 a.m. Violet's surgery was going to last six to eight hours. He needed to stop referring to her as Violet even in his head. Ms. Bellows. Her name was Ms. Bellows, and as far as he was concerned it wouldn't ever be anything else. He'd eaten, changed into scrubs, gone through the case with the surgical residents who would be working with him. There was nothing to do but go speak to Ms. Bellows and her husband.

Michael was shocked when he entered the curtained off cubicle to find Violet sitting by herself. She looked so miserable he wanted to put his arms around her . "I don't understand," he blurted out. "What could have possibly kept Mr. Bellows away when you were going for surgery?

"Allyn had meetings that were unavoidable in India. I felt it was more important that he be there than holding my hand for the few minutes I'd be here before I am taken in. He said he would call you."

" I am still shocked that a man would leave his wife alone at a time like this."

"Wife? Oh no, Allyn is my brother, though he doesn't look it. We had different mothers."

Just then, Michael's pager went off.

"I am sorry; I have to take this." He was confused, thrilled but confused as he called the page operator, and sure enough it was Allyn Bellows.

"Mr. Bellows, I have been given to understand you are in India. Yes, she explained that it was unavoidable. Of course, I will call the minute we are finished with the surgery and again when she is awake in recovery. Do you have any questions for me? Um... yes she had mentioned her fear of hospitals, but she never went into detail as to why. I see, that must have been awful for her. Yes, I will do everything I can to make her comfortable while she is here. When are you due back? You may be delayed. The storm is expected to last a couple of days, so Logan may be closed. I promise I will take very good care of her. I will talk to you soon. You can leave your number with my office. Good-bye."

"That would have been Allyn. As usual right on time!"

Michael could barely hear what she was saying over the pounding in his heart. She wasn't married. He wanted to do some god awful dance if he could have. Oh Christ. Now he was going to have to cut her open. His heart sank. Orthopedic surgery was a nasty, brutal thing. To straighten her spine, he was going to have to cut her hip open and chisel out a good size chunk of bone. Then he was going to have to cut open her back from well above her waist to the top of her ass. Then he was going to have to screw the bone into the spine itself with large titanium screws that would be supplemented with tie rods, for lack of a better term.

Oh God, now he understood the rules about doctors not treating family and loved ones in a way he had never really thought about before. But that was absurd. It wasn't as though he could be in love with Violet Bellows. They had only spoken a handful of times, and in one of those he'd been yelling at her and she at him. She was just very beautiful, and that was what swayed his thoughts. Once she was draped for surgery she would look like every other patient. He would just have to do a better job for her than anyone else could.

# The Hospital during the Nor'easter

Where were those screams coming from? Those weren't pain. That sounded more like terror. He had been at the hospital since coming in for the Bellows surgery. That was almost thirty-six hours ago. This storm was supposedly going to last at least another two days. There was already almost three feet of snow on the ground. With the wind howling, drifts had made it impossible for the snowplows to get through some roads. Police were bringing people in, since some of the ambulances were unable to get through. It was a nightmare. All surgeries were cancelled, except for life threatening conditions. He was stuck here, but those screams had woken him from his sleep.

Where were they coming from? Finally he found the source. Oh, please no, he thought to himself, not his shy Violet.

He entered her room, and her distress was palpable. Her eyes were wild with terror, not just pain. He moved to her bed.

"Violet. Tell me what is wrong."

"The storm! We'll be killed in the storm!"

They were fifteen floors up, and here the wind was screaming at the windows, sounding more like a jet engine than a snow storm. Some fool had left her drapes open. He rolled to the window and closed the drapes. That helped decrease the noise and blocked out the visual effect of the storm. Both of these seemed to lessen her terror. He pulled out his phone and punched up the music app. In seconds, he found what he was looking for. "Violetta, listen to your opera." The overture of _La Traviata_ began. He went back to her bed and lay the phone down on it. He took her hands in his. They were shaking and felt like ice.

"It hurts so much." She was still terrified and in pain.

Where was the damn button for the morphine pump? He searched in her blankets, finally finding it and repeatedly pressing it.

"There. Now that will help." He was desperate to do more. Her hair had been braided back for the surgery, though in her distress some of the curls had come free. He smoothed her forehead and moved the hair out of her face. She still seemed to be looking at him without seeing. "Should I tell you the story of your opera?" She blinked in response, which he took as a yes. He whispered in her ear. "Violetta was the most beautiful woman of her age. No man could look at her and not want her."

Violet closed her eyes at his words, soft whispers at her ear. The morphine helped to ease the pain, and the story gave her something to focus on. Her handsome doctor was holding her hand. She could feel his warm breath on her fingers. She turned her face to his, and he smiled. She was coming back to herself. He started kissing her fingers. If this was the reward for enduring the pain, she would take it. The music was so beautiful, his words in her ear were like poetry. The morphine dulled the pain but did not entirely remove it. It did lower her inhibitions enough to for her to say, "Kiss me."

Michael stopped the story and looked into her eyes.

Had she read his mind? But then, he wanted to do much more than kiss her. While he had been whispering the opera in her ear, he'd been fixated on the sliver of her creamy white shoulder that the johnny coat left exposed. He desperately wanted to taste her plump, rosy lips, slide his tongue past them to hers, explore the hard edges of her teeth. No, it wouldn't be right. She was his patient. She was in the grip of pain and on drugs that lessen one's hold on reality. But, but... that slice of shoulder tantalized him. He inched forward, barely moving. All he had to do was drop his head and brush his lips just there at the edge of the gown. His body seemed to have a will of its own and without thought did exactly that.

Violet saw his eyes close. He craned his neck slightly and brushed his lips across her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and warmth flooded her body, a better balm for her pain than any drug. If this slight touch from his lips could melt her, what would real passion from him feel like? Her breath caught in her throat like a sob. She let her body melt into his touch, letting the thrill of it drive the fear and the pain away. Then she moaned, and he broke the contact. The pain came flooding back worse than before.

"No. Don't stop. It is the only thing that helps," she cried, her eyes wild with torment.

"It is... it's not right. You are my patient. I must respect the bounds of propriety." He felt miserable saying it.

"I don't care. Is there somewhere you can kiss me? Please. I need to lose myself in something beautiful, other than all this pain." Her voice was starting to keen like the wind outside.

Michael didn't care if they took his license. He would do anything to bring her some relief. He looked at her hand in his. Turned it as if just realizing that he was holding such an exquisite object. He placed one of the fingertips against his lips. She stilled and seemed to stop breathing, watching him with wide eyed fascination. He kissed each fingertip in turn, and then turned her hand palm up. Michael whispered to her--his mother used to do this to soothe him as a child--and began to lightly caress her palm with one of his fingers. Drawing them down the center made her warm. She looked at him with such, devotion but that didn't make any sense. It didn't matter to him right now. All he knew was he would stay here till she made it through the storm.

Violet closed her eyes and willed her breath to slow. His light tracings on her palm were sending waves of pleasure through her body, warm liquid relief. The tracing stopped, but he still held her hand. She would scream if he let go. He must have thought she was asleep. This feeling was the opposite of sleep, which brought peace. In this state every nerve ending was on edge, all her senses focused on one spot.

Through her lashes she watched him bend his head to her palm. With the slightest touch he kissed it. When she didn't stir, he kissed more deeply. She moaned at this intimate gesture, thrilled that he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. He pulled back from her hand. but she continued to feign sleep. Once he seemed convinced that she had not woken, he continued the kisses on her palm. Violet thought she would burst from desire, but she did not want to scare her dear, sad doctor. Her breath deepened. She curled her fingers just slightly to caress his face while he kissed her palm, the fine points of his beard tantalizing her fingertips. She wanted more than him just kissing her hand. Slowly, so slowly he almost didn't notice the movement, she drew her hand to her collar bone. When it got there, he stopped the kisses. She could feel his eyes on her.

"Are you my shy Violet or Violetta right now?" he whispered.

She felt her mouth purse and the corners curl in the barest of smiles. She could be anything for him. She could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched hers, but when they did, Violet felt bathed in light. She allowed herself the smallest of peeks to see if the wonderful feeling really was coming from him. She imagined that if sleeping beauty were real, this is what she would have felt like.

This was maddening, how could she kiss him back if she was supposed to be asleep? But if she "woke up" now, he would bolt, she was sure of it. She fought to keep her breathing deep and even when she really wanted to pant. Eventually she let her jaw go slack just a little. Would he try to deepen the kiss? Please! her mind screamed. The kiss stopped. She wanted to cry and missed the taste of him already. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and opened her eyes. There, not three inches from her face was Dr. Dennison. Her eyes fluttered in shock that she hoped he would read as waking up.

"You are quite beautiful but a truly lousy actress."

"I... wha... oh, hell." Then a bolt of pain tore through her body. "Oh God!"

"Violet! Damn the morphine pump." Michael raced to where he had been holding the button and started pressing it repeatedly. "Hang in there, it will work quickly. "Damn. I forgot the thing needs to be pressed every thirty seconds." He continued to press the button in time.

Violet lay back waiting for the drug to wash over her, but the wait seemed endless. In her pain she heard Michael's voice and felt her hand in his.

"Violet, listen to me." He whispered in her ear, his words like some ancient incantation, "Close your eyes." She did as he asked "I want you to move the pain. Imagine it is a bright light. Put all of the pain in that light. Now, pour the light in to my hand. Pass the pain to me."

Her eyes flew open. "No. I could never cause you this much pain," she cried. He held her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"Okay, make the light into a ball and pass the ball to me, and I will throw it away." With that he moved his hand so that just their finger tips were touching with space for the ball of light in the middle.

Violet could feel it! She could feel all of the pain joining together into a single ball of light. She imagined the pain moving up her core to her heart. There she added some of the love she felt for this good caring man and sent it down her arm. She felt her hand grow warm in his, felt her palm burn. Then she felt his hand move away, and the heat and the pain were gone. When she looked over at him, he was smiling down at her and had taken her hands in his while he continued to push the morphine pump button.

"You are a mystic," she said drowsily.

"No, it is just a visualization technique for pain control." Now he was stroking her forehead. It was wonderful. "I'll stay here and keep pressing the button so you can get some sleep. Please sleep. It will do you good."

"Mmm... magic" And she drifted off in a drugged slumber.

Two hours later, Violet's eye flashed open as the pain increased. She looked down and saw that Michael had fallen asleep with his head on her bed. He was still clutching the morphine pump button. She uncurled his fingers the way you would a sleepy child's and took it from him. She continued to press the button herself while she stroked his hair. It was like silk in her fingers. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to lay in bed holding him after they had made love. Hmm, she supposed, depending on where he was paralyzed he may not be able to do some things. No matter, he could still give and receive pleasure of some kind, and that was a kind of "making love."

Even though the morphine didn't remove the pain, it did make it manageable so she could lie here and actually enjoy this moment of contentment. It was not great passion, blinding lust, or even earth shaking orgasm, but this felt rarer somehow. Contentment was such a fragile, quiet thing that it could go unrecognized until it wasn't there anymore. Violet watched his back lift with each breath. She stroked his jaw lightly and felt his beard play against her finger tips. Yes, she wanted him. His kisses made her melt, but it was more than that. How could she be falling in love with someone she barely knew? But there was no doubt that she was indeed falling in love. She let him sleep for another hour. He needed it. When she woke him, she whispered his name and tickled his ear. He woke up slowly, but when he opened his eyes and saw her he smiled even though he wasn't fully awake. That small unguarded moment was precious to her.

"Hey, sleepy head, you need to get up soon. I don't want you to get in trouble for being in here sleeping." She saw his guard come up as he pushed up from the bed.

"What time is it?"

"About five thirty in the morning. The storm is still blowing."

"Damn. I was trying to stay awake to keep your morphine pump going."

"I know. It was fine. Just having you lying here was good medicine."

He stretched and rubbed his eyes.

"I need to get out of here, or there will be hell to pay. I have to go get cleaned up and do rounds with the residents in an hour or two. I'll see you then. Um, you know last night has to be our secret, right?"

Violet put on her most devilish grin.

"I think there are definite blackmail possibilities here. Hmm, should I go for better food or... I know! If the storm is still raging tonight, then you have to come back here after you are done, and we can talk for a while. And the rest of the time, you can give me your very particular kind of healing." She put her hand over her mouth. Part of her could not believe she had just propositioned a man, even if it was just for some kisses. She stopped thinking she was so cute when she saw the look on his face. "Hey, I was kidding. I would just like some company. I..." _Oh god, don't start crying. Violet, do not let yourself cry_.

Michael reared back at what she had said. Her words hit him like cold water. Why? She was being cute and flirty, even if she was slurring her words a little because of the morphine. Was it that he realized they had spent the night either kissing or doing other nonsexual but still nonetheless intimate things? He had always held himself to higher standards than everyone else. Actually, he felt like he had to, had to prove he was better so people could forget he was stuck in the damn chair. Here was someone who didn't even look at the chair but only saw him, and he was terrified. Was this terror? His heart was racing, his pulse pounded, his breathing was quick and shallow. Either he was afraid or...aroused. But that couldn't be possible. It had to be fear. He was just afraid that eventually she'd want...him?

"Violet, sorry, I need a cup of coffee before I can be held responsible for anything I say." He felt like a liar, though it was mostly true. "I'll come by after I get done, I promise." She still looked like she was going to burst into tears. He felt like such an ass. "Hey, if you play your cards right, I'll raid the gift shop for chocolate."

He smiled up at her, all the while silently begging that she'd smile back. When she did he thought he would yell for joy. "Okay, remember keep pushing the button. I'll come around with the residents in a while. We are going to get you out of that bed today!" Violet blanched. "Don't worry I promise it will be okay, I have done this with more than a hundred other patients. I'm also going to put in an order for a sponge bath. Trust me it doesn't sound like a big deal, but I have had patients tell me it is worth the pain of the surgery." She was staring at him with her mouth open. "Really. I'm serious. I need to get going and get ready. Bye" And without thinking he kissed her hand.

Violet didn't make a sound till she was sure he wasn't in earshot, then she let out a whoop. Then she started laughing. She would bet he didn't even realize he'd kissed her.

She felt like a teenager waiting for her date to show up, she was so excited about seeing him later. She undid her braid and finger combed her hair, in between pressing the morphine pump. When the morning nurse came in to check on her, Violet was able to get her toiletries kit, wipe off her face, and add some tinted lip balm and moisturizer. At least she didn't look like something the cat dragged in any more. As she sat and waited for Dr. Dennison and the residents to arrive, she got sleepy from the activity before and the morphine.

Michael was jumpy from exhaustion and whatever insanity had made him spend the night in Violet's room. Coffee usually mellowed him out, but not today. He seemed even more keyed up after having a cup. The residents didn't love rounding with him under the best of circumstances, but today had been especially bad. He'd just about taken the head off of one of the juniors for not knowing the lab results of a patient. And then when the chief resident asked a question, he'd chewed him out, too. He'd left Violet for last to give himself time to get his emotions under control. He wished he could, but his head seemed to refuse to listen to reason where she was concerned.

When the team entered her room, she was propped up on pillows, her hair cascading over them in waves. Her skin was so pale, it accentuated the rose of her lips. His breath caught in his chest. She looked like a sleeping beauty or Lady Godiva, lush curves and that gorgeous hair. He wanted to throw the team out as if she belonged only to him. Unfortunately, the team was staring at him, and it was a minute before he realized that he should be the one to wake her. He cleared his throat loudly and said "Miss Bellows?" She remained sleeping. Finally, he took her hand and patted the back of it. Her eyes opened and locked with his. And she smiled. Michael thought he had never seen anything so glorious.

"Oh, I was just dreaming of y--" She looked around at the residents. "Dreaming of riding a horse." She giggled a little. "Morphine makes you dream the craziest things."

Michael beamed. He knew he should keep his feelings under control, but he wanted to kiss her so badly he could barely breathe. She didn't let go of his hand. Actually when he tried to pull it back, she tightened her grip. The residents were looking at him in utter confusion and then looking at Violet. She smiled like an angel at all of them, and they seemed to sigh in unison, completely charmed by her.

Michael stared at Violet and pointedly took his hand back. "Ms. Bellows had spinal fusion surgery two days ago and is ready to get out of bed now." Violet looked at him with near terror on her face that had nothing to do with the storm still raging outside. "Truly, you are ready. Please trust me." To the residents, he added, "Seeing as the storm has left the nursing staff shorthanded this will be a learning experience for all of you, too. Someone bring in the walker that was outside the door."

After they disconnected the IV lines and removed the morphine pump, Violet was ready to walk. But she was still terrified. She looked at Michael with tears in her eyes. The residents were occupied with her covers momentarily.

He looked over at them cautiously and then whispered to Violet. "Darling, I would never do anything that could hurt you. You can do this, you are stronger than you think." Taking a quick look to make sure the residents were distracted, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "For strength," he whispered.

Violet couldn't help but smile. His kindness took her breath away. She would try to do anything to please him. He started directing the residents into position to assist her. She took a couple of deep calming breaths to clear her head. Slowly they sat her up and turned her so her feet were over the side of the bed. Such a simple thing, but the fear of it sapped her strength.

Michael stopped them to give her time to adjust.

"Are you okay? I want you to concentrate on me. If you do that, the walking will take care of itself," he said. Violet shook her head yes and took another deep breath. "Good. Now we are going to lower the bed, and I want you to take the walker in both hands and stand up."

Violet drifted down until her feet touched the floor. She looked at Michael, and he smiled back. Violet grabbed the walker, closed her eyes, and stood before she could stop and think about what she was doing. When she was standing, she started breathing faster as her panic mounted.

"You are doing beautifully, Ms. Bellows."

Just the sound of his voice soothed her.

He wheeled himself backwards toward the door. "Are you in any pain?"

She shook her head no, not trusting her voice.

"Good, I want you to walk to me. Baby steps at first. You'll be roaming the halls in no time."

With a resident on either side of her, she shuffled toward Michael. Sweat prickled her scalp, and her skin was clammy. It took all her strength not to panic, but she walked about five feet, turned around and walked back to the bed.

By the time she got into bed, she was soaked in sweat and could smell the adrenaline on her skin. She was panting, trying to control the urge to cry. She wasn't in any more pain than before, less actually, but the fear of falling, of not being able to move was staggering. Had that been how Michael felt when he first found out he was paralyzed? Was that how he felt everyday? She couldn't ask him in front of his residents, but she did want to talk to him about it.

He dismissed the residents but stayed in the room. Finally he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. He held it as he flipped the switch on his chair that pushed him to standing. Then he bent over her and kissed her lips, cradling her head in his hand. Violet's arms wound around him as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. His tongue tasted her mouth, traced her lips, found her tongue. A moan escaped her throat. and she felt him smile as the kiss continued. She smiled at the low growl from him but stopped as he pulled away.

"I'm very proud of you. I know it is terrifying the first time, but tomorrow you'll be walking up and down the corridor on your own." He laughed at her shocked expression. "No, truly you will and be happy for it."

As shaken as she felt, she couldn't resist teasing him just a little "Will I get kisses then, too?"

He shook his head no, but his smile never left his face. "You are trouble, my dear."

"I'd like to be your trouble. Come back tonight? I know the storm is not as bad as last night but..." Violet was shocked at herself. She was flirting with her handsome doctor, and he seemed to like it. "You did promise me chocolates."

"I also promised you a sponge bath."

Violet blushed from the roots of her hair to her toenails. She was suddenly consumed with the thought of Michael giving her a sponge bath. It sounded like the most sensual thing in the world at that moment. Her pulse sped up, her breasts swelled and ached as the nipples became hard knots. She clenched her thighs together as moisture drenched the curls between them. Michael must have realized what she was thinking as his gaze wandered over her body, his eyes darkened and took on a faraway look. They stared at each other for a minute till she gasped, shuddering with longing, and broke the spell.

He cleared his throat but it still came out hoarse when he said. "I'll send one of the nurses in to you. Unfortunately, I am not properly trained in the technique."

Violet knew he was never the one who was going to be giving her the bath but the fantasy was too good to pass up. "I'm sure you could muddle through," she said under her breath. She smiled and knew he had at least considered the idea when he started coughing.

"Yes, trouble. I don't know when I will be able to get back here this evening. Most likely not till after visiting hours are over. Have you heard from your brother yet?"

She smiled at his relief at changing the subject and that he would be coming back. "No, I haven't heard from Allyn. I expect that he is trapped in Europe somewhere with the storm still here. If I know him, he went to my mother's family in France. They are very fond of him, and he, them. I don't expect he'll be here till tomorrow and then only if the storm stops tonight. I think we can sneak one more meeting in before he gets here."

"I'll look forward to seeing you then, Ms. Bellows." And he kissed the back of her hand like a knight in shining armor. Violet had her bath coming but she could tell the day was going to drag by until tonight.

At eight thirty that evening, Michael skirted the nurses station on Violet's floor. Because of the storm, the hospital was still running with a skeleton crew. Not an ideal situation for patient care, but if it hadn't been this way, he and Violet would not have been able to have this time together. The thought made him pause. What were they doing? She wasn't married, as he had originally thought. He didn't think she was acting like this because of any of the pain killers. She had flirted with him even before that.

He tried to reassure himself that he wasn't taking advantage of the situation. So far all they had shared were some stolen kisses. He was attracted to her like no woman he had ever met, but where could this all lead? Why would a woman that stunning choose to spend time with a man as broken as he was? Obviously, she wouldn't as soon as she was released from the hospital. She was using him to allay her fears, even if it was only subconsciously. Once she was back to her regular life she would treat him like just her doctor again. All of this was because of her fear of hospitals. Even her brother had spoken to him about it. That had to be it. The thought burned the back of his throat.

He opened the door to her room and could tell she was asleep by the soft snoring. Most likely from the pain killers, but the thought of a woman that perfect snoring made him smile. He wheeled over to her and lowered the bed carefully so as not to wake her. She really did look like a fantasy princess from a children's book. Her glorious hair had been pulled back, revealing the nape of her neck. Michael felt himself consumed with desire to kiss that secret place hidden behind all those curls. As he leaned closer, he could smell her unique scent, a mix of herbs and some kind of green wood, plus her pheromones. He was captivated, and all his thoughts of explaining rationally why they couldn't continue like this were forgotten, replaced by the urge to kiss, to taste, to smell. He wanted to run his fingers along her hairline there and watch her shiver. Without another thought he softly nuzzled the back of her neck, lightly brushing his lips down her spine just there. He figured she would wake at his touch and was surprised when she started murmuring.

"Mmmm, Michael, I love you too." The words were spoken softly as she slept but clearly enough that there was no mistaking what she had said.

Michael startled, and she came fully awake. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled up at him. "I knew you'd come back. I was having the most wonderful dream."

He was still trying to catch his breath. She couldn't possibly love him. He had to have heard wrong. "Um, yes, I came back. I brought you chocolate like I promised, too." He pulled the chocolate from one of the saddlebags on his chair as she carefully turned over.

"Michael, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. I can't be that scary when I wake up, can I?"

She really had been sleeping. It must have been as he suspected. She had convinced herself that she had feelings for him to get through the ordeal of the surgery and being in the hospital. Maybe if he talked about it with her, she would realize that it was happening, and she would go back to acting like any of his other patients.

"No, you are not scary at all. You are beautiful, in fact. Since you are much more relaxed than last night I thought we could talk for a while. I, um, won't be able to stay as long as I did last night, I'm afraid. Are you comfortable enough off of the morphine pump?"

"Yes, I'm all right. I understand you can't stay as long." She couldn't help looking disappointed. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You."

"Oh, I'm not very interesting, I'm afraid. I'm twenty-nine. I live with my brother in our parents' house. They died when I was twelve, and Allyn was my guardian till I came of age. I always felt bad for him being so young--he was twenty-two when they died--and being saddled with me. Did all the usual stuff, college and what not, and now I am here."

"That was a very practiced evasion that told me nothing about you."

Violet started to laugh. "I should have known you wouldn't accept that. Sorry. Yes, I've gotten too good at not talking about me. I'll let you ask five questions, and I will answer them as truthfully as possible."

"Okay, though I suspect only five will just scratch the surface. What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, we are going to get the boring stuff out of the way first? Fine. I work for a nonprofit that deals with healthcare advocacy in third world countries. I'm here in the Boston office. That is one. Do I get to ask you questions?"

"I suppose it would only be fair. Within reason, mind you."

"Hmm, Where are you most ticklish?"

"Violet! I.... Why do you want to know?"

"It may be important information later."

"You are the most confounding."

"Just answer the question, Doctor."

"Fine. I suppose under my arms. To be honest, I can't remember the last time someone tickled me."

"That will need to be rectified."

"You wouldn't dare." The smile she leveled at him told him she not only would but might be planning her attack as he sat there. He stared back at her with his mouth agape. Oh, if a woman like this could indeed love him. But no, he was convinced this was merely a case of her need to distance herself from the hospital environment.

"Your next question, Doctor?"

"I...I can't remember what I was going to ask now." Michael shook his head to clear it. She befuddled him, and that was not a feeling he was used to. "Okay, I know you like opera. Have you ever been to see it live?"

"When I was a child, my parents had season tickets to the Met. I used to love going with them. It was like they were the king and queen, and I was their princess. Everything sparkled and was so beautiful. The building, the costumes, the music. Everything was magical. Back then everyone got dressed up. The last time I saw a show in New York, there were so many people in jeans. I am glad they were supporting and enjoying the show, but it made me miss when it was a bigger event." She seemed lost in thought, possibly remembering her parents.

Michael had to take this opportunity to get her to talk about them.

"Violet, how did your parents die?"

She stared at him blankly, though the pain in her eyes was unmistakeable.

"Oh, Michael, I... they died in a plane crash."

"Violet, I know you were with them; your brother told me. I think..."

"Michael, I really don't want to talk about this. I.... There is no going back and changing things. You can only deal with the pain and move forward. I learned that early on. Please don't make me talk about this."

"But if it affects you still, then it is a part of your present and your future for as long as you hold on to it. I think talking about it will help you move past it enough that your fear of hospitals and storms might be less."

"Michael, I have spent more time with doctors than you could possibly imagine, including shrinks that wanted to help me work through the pain. Nothing changes."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My parents took me to New York for my birthday. The Met was putting on La Traviata. They treated me like a princess but then they always did, only in retrospect did I actually appreciate it. We ended up caught in a horrible snow storm on the way back and the plane crashed in the woods. The pilot and my father were killed instantly." She held her breath for a moment and he saw the sadness wash over her. Another breath and she continued. "My mother was hurt badly but she didn't let me know it. She kept telling me that help would be there soon. It didn't come soon enough though and eventually she passed away too. I was there for twenty-eight more hours. The only saving grace was that while she struggled to hold on she told me over and over how much she and my father loved me and always would.

He was speachless for a moment and reached for her hand. He needed to touch her to soothe the ache that was still there but she had dealt with the horror of the experience and come out whole. Was this the source of the steel he found so attractive?

"Violet, that is heart wrenching but you don't seem terrified now."

She laughed and the melancholy disappeared. "No, I'm not. You're here."

"Why would that make a difference?"

She took a deep breath. "You relax me."

"Why?" She looked at him through her lashes and blushed. It was killing him to destroy how she felt about him, but it was the right thing to do.

"Because of how I feel about you. That was your third question. My turn. Do you have a girlfriend?"

Michael blushed. "No. I'm not letting you change the subject, Violet."

"No, you don't have a girlfriend, or no, you won't let me change the subject?"

"No, no girlfriend, and I'm not letting you change the subject."

"Wait. That would include boyfriend too, right?" She grinned back at him.

"Violet, I am not attracted to men, but I think I am stating the obvious when I mention that I'm in a wheelchair. I haven't dated since, well, ever really. I think this is getting into personal areas that I don't want to discuss."

"Oh, too touchy, Doctor. You seemed more than determined to open _my_ darkest secrets."

She narrowed her eyes and stared him down. There it was again. The glint of steel under her elegant feminine exterior intrigued him more than he wanted to admit. This was the kind of woman who would keep a man challenged for a lifetime. His head ached from trying to keep himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless.

"I've decided I am bored with your game. Frankly, you ask very dull questions," she said, doing her best impression of a spoiled society girl. As she did, she reached out and poked her finger gently to his long nose.

He almost laughed. No one had ever treated him the way this woman did. Even his mother had been a very cool personality. She loved him but was never physically affectionate, even before his illness and the chair. After, everyone treated him as if some invisible force field buzzed around him. Not Violet. She was touchy and impertinent and made him feel alive, confused as hell, but alive. She was holding him pinned with her finger on his nose. He felt slightly ridiculous. All he had to do was back up to break the contact, but he couldn't seem to make himself do it.

Violet took the top off the box of chocolates and squealed like a child.

"I love dark chocolate cherry cordials!" She plucked one from the box and took a big bite. The liquor from the candy dripped from the corner of her mouth as she happily devoured the rest of the piece of candy. As she ate the treat, her eyes never left his. Her hand moved to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers. Eventually, she grasped his beard, gently but firmly pulling him toward her. Michael was staring at the red drip at the corner of her mouth and couldn't help licking his lips at the thought of tasting it. She seemed to want it, too.

The kiss started sweetly enough. Her lips felt so warm under his. She murmured something in appreciation, but then it became a flash flood of sensation. The kiss at the corner of her mouth with the sticky sweet syrup led to him exploring the taste of the dark chocolate on her tongue. The mix of the candy and her unique taste sent him over the edge. She matched him as their tongues swept the breath from the other. Her hands were fisted in his hair, pulling at him, driving him on. His mind lost to reason, everything male in him responding to everything female in her. He kissed across her jaw and down her throat. She traced her tongue along the edge of his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth. He moaned, unconscious of what he was doing.

His hands, which had held her shoulders, moved down her arms and then spanned her rib cage. _So delicate_ , the only thought in his head. As he moved his hands over the soft cotton of the johnny coat to the fullness of her breasts, even that thought was blotted out by single-minded desire. The civilized man was disappearing, replaced by a primal hunger that had been too long denied.

He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes as he slowly unsnapped the shoulder of her gown, one snap at a time. With each pop, her breath caught in her throat, but she never moved her hands from his head. When he let the front fall, his hands cupped her rosy tipped breasts. His large strong hands seemed made to match them; they filled them so perfectly. He bent his face to bury himself in them, inhaling the scent of her. She gasped when his beard grazed the tops of them.

He reveled in how sensitive she was to his touch, so he rubbed his beard across her nipples and was rewarded with shivers shaking her whole body. He was consumed with her reactions to him, to his touch. Nothing could keep him from enjoying this woman. Even doing surgery had never felt as powerful as making Violet gasp and sigh almost at will. He wanted to discover every intonation of her delight. He lowered the bed so it was flat and she was laid out before him like a buffet to a starving man.

He moved back to the hollow at her throat and almost laughed at her groan of displeasure. He feasted on that hollow and turned the groan into a sigh. She still had one hand cupping the back of his head, the other had reached over her head to clutch at the sheets above her. She looked ready to have her picture painted by one of the Impressionists, a lover at rest. As beautiful as she looked in the half light, he didn't want her at rest. He wanted to see her as crazed as he felt right now.

He leaned forward, and his hand landed in the box of candy. He held one in his hand as he unsnapped the side of her gown. He groaned when he revealed her body. Yes, he had seen her naked when he operated, but then he had stared at her with clinical detachment. There was nothing detached about his gaze now. His chest ached at her beauty. Everything was soft, made for a man's pleasure and touch. He wanted to drink her in, get drunk on the feel and taste of her. He smiled and brought the cordial over her. He used his teeth and nipped a small hole in it. All the while making sure she had her eyes on him. He dripped the sticky syrup down her body from the valley of her breasts to her pubic mound, leaving no question of what he intended.

Violet moaned, she couldn't help it. Every touch of his set her on fire. The minute the kiss changed, she knew she would be writhing under the spell he was weaving. She needed more of him. "Take off your shirt." She managed in a hoarse whisper. He looked at her like he barely registered her voice but reached up and pulled his scrub top off. As he bent toward her body, she stopped him. He could have what he desired in a moment, first she wanted to touch him.

His shoulders were magnificent, each turn of muscle perfectly proportioned for his frame. His chest was neatly divided, and she couldn't resist running her fingers down the cut of his pecs and watching him quake. Her hands spread across the wide expanse and caressed his flat nipples with her thumbs. She smiled as his desire-darkened eyes drooped. Oh, how she would have loved to use her mouth on him. It would take a week to kiss all of him. As much as she could get lying flat on her back was one finger under his chin to guide him to her lips. His kiss left her breathless and covered in goosebumps. She hadn't expected him to be so playful, earnest. Heartfelt yes, but this, being covered in candy syrup, the way he teased her with his beard was beyond anything she could have asked for. She had hoped he would be a thoughtful lover. She hadn't guessed that he would be inventive.

He hovered over her, staring into her eyes. What she saw there was all male and not at all tame, such a contrast to the courtly doctor he had been at other times. The thought of him like this made her mouth water. She had wanted to see him like this from the moment she laid eyes on him. He held out the cherry still in the chocolate and fed it to her as she stared back at him. Without a word, he started licking at the sticky trail he'd left on her body. She was trembling with need, every touch of his tongue turning the knots in her gut tighter. At her breasts, he detoured from the path. He used his mouth to make her moan, his soft wet tongue followed by the rasp of his beard. When she didn't think she could stand anymore he sucked her nipples to even harder points. The soft bite of pain rocketing to her sex and making her ache even more.

She saw the smile on his face as she struggled to catch her breath. Not tonight, but soon it would be her turn to play the seducer, and then she would take her sweet time with him. When he got to her stomach, he smeared the sticky liquid instead of lapping it up. Then he sucked at the soft skin with wet open mouthed kisses. Violet had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. He continued his assault till he was between the points of her hip bones. She was desperate for him to get to her more sensitive spots, but she didn't want this to end either. She groaned, "I'm going to be all wet and sticky."

He looked up at her from near her pelvis and smiled. When he looked back down he rubbed his mouth against her mound. "I can smell how wet and sticky you are."

Violet sucked in her breath. Part of her was shocked at his words. This was not the genteel man she thought she knew. This was something earthy with rougher edges. Something that promised abandon, and she wanted all of it. "Oh, please . . . Michael . . . touch me, dammit!" His laugh against her mound made her breath catch in her throat.

He loved the smell of her arousal. He wanted to crow with satisfaction. He had made this beautiful woman quiver for release from him. He sensed her startle at his blunt words and saw the moisture drip from her labia. She might not say it, but she liked not being treated like a porcelain doll. Slowly he brought his lips to her pussy and kissed her deeply there. He parted her with his fingers. She was so warm and wet. He eased two of his fingers deep inside her. He heard her gasp and kissed the inside of her thigh to let her get used to the sensation. His fingers were long, reaching deep inside her. He curled them to massage the spot just behind her pelvic bone. He buried his face in her thigh to hide his smile when she started panting softly. He gave her thigh a little nip, and she moaned his name. He thought he'd roar his conquest of this desirable woman.

Now he wanted a taste. He gave her clit a hard lick with the flat of his tongue, and she almost jumped off the bed. With precise movements, using just the tip of his tongue, he traced her folds. He explored everywhere but her sensitive nub till she was panting and clutching at the sheets. Suddenly she began to keen. If she was having an orgasm, he would know. This was not a climax. Her legs shook. Oh God. What had he done?

"Violet, tell me what's wrong."

"Michael, my legs! My hips! Everything is seizing up. Oh, shit, it hurts bad."

Damn, he'd been so single-minded in wanting to get his hands on her he'd forgotten about the effect all the tension would have on the fragile nerves trying to reknit themselves. She would've had charlie horses anyway, but everything he'd done just made it worse. "Violet, I'm so sorry. I forgot myself. I'll try to stretch you out. I'm so sorry."

He moved to the side of her and pulled her knees toward her chest to stretch out her hamstrings. "Can you roll the small of your back down to the bed? That will help release your back." She did as he asked, and he could see some of the pain leave her face. "Let me know when your hamstrings relax." She shook her head. "Better now?"

"A little," she said through clenched teeth.

"Where?"

"My hips."

He threw the gown over her body as he pushed her knees apart to stretch her psoas.

"I know it feels odd, but is that better?"

"Yes." She was covering her face. He wished he were dead. He'd wanted her to be awash in pleasure because of him, and all he had given her was pain. He'd compromised her most basic trust in him as a doctor. Her body shaking broke his chain of thought. Now, she was crying. He could hear her trying to cover it up but...

"Violet, I'm so sorry. I won't ever touch you again. If you want to bring me up before the patient advocacy board, I completely understand." At that she pulled her hands away from her face, and he stared at her. She was . . . laughing. "What the hell?"

"Oh god, Michael, I'm sorry. I shouldn't make light of it all, but if I don't laugh, I swear, I'll start screaming. I finally find a gorgeous man who can do amazing things to me, and my goddamn body acts like it is having some kind of freaking allergic reaction."

"You're not crying?"

"The only reason for me to cry is you didn't finish. Michael, are you okay? Really, I'm fine, damn disappointed, but fine. Please say something. You're scaring me. Really. It's okay to laugh when something as insane as this happens."

"Violet, if I hadn't . . . you never would have had those muscle spasms. This is all my fault. I should just leave."

Violet grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare. Look at me. I mean it, look at me now!" He turned his head, and Violet would swear she saw tears in his eyes. She pulled him closer and raised the bed so she could sit up and look at him eye to eye. She took his face in her hands, sweeping her thumbs over his closed eyes and down his cheeks. She pulled him to her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. "Michael, I loved how you touched me. I have never felt as beautiful as when you were making love to me. Please don't think that the charlie horses were something you did. You told me after the surgery I would have more of them while the nerves were getting function back. Let's face it, as physical therapy goes, having a stunningly handsome man work over my body in the most intimate way possible was not the worst thing to ever happen to me."

She turned his face to hers and kissed him, staring into his eyes, trying to convey all the love she felt for him. "Really, I should be thanking you or demanding a raincheck, since at this point I am going to be frustrated as hell till you touch me again. You better come back tomorrow and finish what you started, or I'm going to have to hunt you down." Then she nipped his ear to let him know she was teasing. She started laughing at his shy smile. He was so different again, back to being formal and stiff, obviously appalled at his previous behavior. "Michael, I'm serious. That was hot as hell, and I don't really have words to describe how it made me feel. But I will not let you apologize for making me feel like that."

He started to smile again.

"You don't hate me?"

"God, no. Hate you for making me feel... amazing? That was the kind of sex that makes an old lady smile thinking about it forty years later. I'm not going to let you take that back."

"Violet, I swear I have never done anything like that before. I..."

"Okay, now you are just bragging. You expect me to believe that you are some kind of sexual savant? You can just lay your hands on a woman, and she comes undone?"

"You're the only one who has ever had that kind of reaction, or that I have tried to make come undone.

"And you say the sweetest things. You should have a warning label that you are addictive. You better get out of here, or I'll make you finish what you started. You'll come back tomorrow though? I was kidding about the sex part. We can play twenty questions again. But you need to think up some naughty ones because yours were seriously boring."

He laughed outright now. He took a deep breath and stared at her. "You confuse the hell out of me, Violet."

"I'm supposed to, silly man. That is how you know I'm a girl. Now get. I don't want you in trouble. At least not with anyone but me."

He shook his head and kissed her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at rounds."

The next morning, when he arrived at Violet's room with the residents, her brother had just arrived. He shouldn't have been angry, but he was. He didn't want to share her with anyone. But she seemed so glad to see her brother he couldn't stay angry. He and Allyn Bellows made idle chitchat while Violet was helped to the bathroom.

"How did you get in? I had heard Logan was still closed."

"It is. The storm had already moved through New York so I flew there, got a car, and drove up. Frankly, I expected her to be in much worse shape. Actually, she seems to be doing great. The whole way up I kept thinking she was going to end up sedated or in restraints. I can't believe how relaxed she is. I can't thank you enough for what you have done for her. Beyond the surgery, I mean."

Michael tried not to turn ten shades of red. If this man knew the things he'd thought about and and done with his sister, he'd be beating him senseless instead of thanking him.

"The worst of the storm is over, so hopefully you'll be able to take her home tomorrow." Why did that depress him so much. He could never say it out loud, but being trapped in the hospital with Violet had been the closest thing to a relationship he'd allowed himself. Now she was going home, and he'd only see her for follow up appointments. He'd see her drift away from him until they only had a professional relationship. That was what he had wanted last night before she had let him seduce her. Now that he had a glimpse of what life could be, he couldn't bear to see her look at him as just another doctor, or worse, just some poor man in a wheelchair.

Her brother evidently had pull at the hospital, or the nurses were just thrilled to have another man around, because the visiting hour rules didn't seem to apply to him. Michael never did get to see Violet alone again before she was discharged. It was maddening having her so close and not being able to touch her or wait beside her bed till she woke up and he could kiss her. While he finished signing her discharge paperwork, he was starting to hate hospitals himself,.

He had made his decision, and rationally he knew it was for the best. Emotionally it meant his life would be utter crap till he got her out of his system, but there wasn't any other way. It wasn't as though his life didn't feel empty before her, but after her, well, it seemed to be a black hole now. Nothing left to do but to tell her and get the hell out of here.

"Well, discharge paperwork is all done. I see you are packed. That's good. Hopefully they'll be around with a chair to take you downstairs in a bit. I don't know why, but that always seems to be the hardest part, getting an orderly with a chair." Violet looked like she wanted to say something, but she kept glancing at her brother and would stop. Just as well. He didn't want any heartfelt disclosures that would complicate what he had to do now.

"Violet, I think you are doing quite well in your recovery. I am going to have my office transfer your care to one of my associates. Tom Waters is very good, a nice guy. I think you'll like him. He'll set you up with any physical therapy you need. You don't need to come back to the office to have the staples removed. A visiting nurse will be in touch and set up a time in the next week or two. I've enjoyed having you as a patient." He'd run out of things to say, but he still couldn't look at her.

"Why?"

He heard her anger. He'd expected disappointment given that her feelings wouldn't have receded yet, though he knew they would. But he hadn't thought she would be angry. When he looked at her, her eyes were almost black with anger. There was that steel he always seemed to find in her. Part of him wanted to smile. He did like that unwillingness to let disappointment back her into a corner.

"I think it is for the best, for now, if someone else attends to your care. I'm sure I will still see you at the office, and I will make sure to tell Tom to CC me on any notes."

"Fine," she said as cutting as any stiletto. She moved to collect her things as the orderly brought the wheelchair in. Michael fought the urge to close his eyes. He wondered if there were a bar nearby already open, because right at this moment he'd like to be blind drunk. If she had looked hurt he could have at least comforted her, but she didn't. She pulled her walls up and disappeared behind them. He hated himself, but there was no other way.

***

# Six Weeks Later

Violet leaned against the door frame, exhausted from her physical therapy and the last month and a half. She had given up trying to not think about Michael and was going with a more meditative approach. Of course, he would come up in her thoughts, and when he did she simply acknowledged the thought and set it adrift. She thought about him just as much, but at least she felt less guilty about it. The physical therapy was helping with some of the adhesions and pain left over from the surgery. The pain in her heart was a different story. She noticed the lights were still on in the therapy room, which was odd since she had the last appointment. She was about to go when she heard someone fall to the ground and a man's voice cursing. She knew who it was and it would serve him right if she left him lying on the floor or under a piece of equipment for not calling her. She just couldn't walk away though.

She walked into the room to find Michael lying on the mat under the parallel bars. She thought back to when she had helped him across the street and how miserable he had been and steeled herself for an outburst. "Doctor, can I help you with something?"

"Oh, fucking wonderful. No, just leave me here, with any luck I'll be dead in the morning."

"So we've decided on morose rather than belligerent as the lesser of two evils. Michael, let me help you, for God's sake."

"Just go away. I'd sooner be stuck here than to see you look at me with pity."

"Well, then it is your lucky day because I had intended to look at you like you were a goddamned ass, if you want to know the truth."

"That I can deal with. Unfortunately, it's the truth. Can you bring my chair over here? And then I might need you to steady it while I get in."

Violet looked around for the large chair with the hydraulics. "I don't see the Dr. X chair. Is it in the other room?"

"The what?

"Dr. X, you know the comic book hero in the wheelchair, has mental telepathy and X-ray vision, all the usual super hero stuff."

Michael cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is that how you thought of me?"

"Don't be an ass Michael. Oh, sorry. Too late! Where is the chair?

"It's the low-backed one right near you. I don't always use the other one. I was doing some exercises, and then I'm supposed to go play basketball with a friend."

She pushed the wheelchair closer to him as he rolled to a sitting position. "I could see you were in good shape. I didn't really think about what kind of exercise program you would have to do. What were you doing with the parallel bars?"

"If I tell you, you'll laugh at me."

"Michael, I have never laughed at you. Well, unless you were being pompous. More likely I will end up yelling at you if past experience is any indication."

He smiled. She was right, of course. She had never laughed at his deficits, only his lousy attitude. "Fine. I was practicing walking."

"What? You can walk?"

"No, actually I can't, but I keep trying. I hope it keeps the neural pathways open. I end up falling on my face most of the time. Stupid but true. I've had plenty of doctors tell me I am wasting my time, but I can't give up trying."

She covered her mouth to hide the smile, not at his foolhardiness, but at his perseverance.

"So you are going to laugh at me after all."

"No, I was thinking how very much alike we are. I would do the same thing."

He had no doubt that she would, too. God, it hurt to look at her. He missed her so much. The past six weeks had been hell He couldn't concentrate, didn't want to get out of bed. He'd slacked off on his exercise sessions to the point that his ol' buddy Cam was going to kick his ass up and down the court today. He knew he shouldn't, but he didn't want her to just leave again.

"Violet? Would you like to go with... forget it. It's a dumb idea, and you probably have plans anyway."

He was in his chair now. She had never seen him dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. She wanted to peel his damp shirt off and lick the center of his chest. She took a deep breath to clear the image from her head. "I don't have any plans for this evening. What did you have in mind?" She tried to sound casual so she didn't sound desperate.

Damn, she didn't want to want him as much as she did. Pathetic was how she thought of herself. She could tell him about her new project at the foundation. At least keep him talking till she figured out how to ask him out without sounding like a stalker.

"After seeing what you did with your other chair, I've started researching groups that make wheelchairs out of discarded bicycles in different third world countries. The need is staggering and particular to each different area because almost nothing is paved. The designs are more along the lines of all terrain vehicles than anything you'd have here. It has all been kind of fascinating. Tell me about the design of this chair?"

He looked at her like she was turning green and growing horns before his eyes. "Um, it's just a regular sport model, low profile. It is designed to be self-propelled, not pushed. The center of gravity is lower so it doesn't tip when you get into tight turns." He spun in a pirouette. "Would you like to come to my basketball game? You'd have a chance to see what I mean close up." He was staring at his knees, preparing himself for her to say no.

"I'd love to! We should take your transportation though, and you can just drop me off back here after. When do we need to leave?"

He looked up in shock. He wasn't going to get his hopes up. It probably was just part of a research project to her, but he could at least pretend for a little while. He felt like a teenage boy asking the prettiest girl in school to watch him play ball, but he didn't care. She had said yes, and she at least looked happy to go.

"I'll need to call Allyn to let him know I'm going to miss dinner. Can we get something to eat afterwards?"

"Sure, though it won't be anything gourmet. The guys are mostly wings and beer types." He laughed at her grimace. He wasn't a fan either. "I have heard the burgers are good at the place we usually go to." They wandered down to the parking garage in silence. Michael wished he wasn't parked in the handicapped spot, which was dumb because it wasn't like she didn't know he was in a wheelchair. When they got to his car, she started laughing. Now he felt like an idiot.

"I'm sorry," she said smiling. "I know it isn't a Masserati, but do you have comic books in there?" She said pointing to his small red Italian sports car.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sorry, you've never heard the joke about how to find the Orthopod's car in the hospital lot?"

"It's the Masserati with the comic books?"

"Exactly! Sorry, you ortho guys have a nasty reputation for being unconscionably rich and not all that bright. Present company excepted, of course."

"So you don't think I'm rich?" Now he started laughing. "You know what a red convertible means, don't you?

"In Boston it probably means you are from out of town, but when driven by a man of a certain age it means you've already had your midlife crisis. Generally, the little red convertible is cheaper than the buxom blonde in the long run."

"Oh, I thought you were going to make a crack about my sexual prowess?"

"Doctor, I know all I need to know about your sexual prowess." Then she looked him up and down with eyes so filled with desire he felt like he had been punched in the gut. He blew his breath out in a whistle. She didn't drop her gaze but instead licked her lips. He was held spellbound till she looked away and started laughing. His hands shook when he unlocked the doors.

"I should know better than to ask. Do you need help?"

"No. I do this all the time. Thank you for asking, though," he said as they got into the car.

She raised her eyebrows. "Wow, you can be nice. Who knew?"

"Brat."

"Right back at you." Then they sat there for a minute grinning at each other. He quickly leaned forward and kissed her. The surprised look on her face was perfect, her gasp was even better. He turned to focus on getting his chair collapsed and stowed. Then they were on their way.

She fished a silk scarf out of her bag and tied it around her hair. She looked like summer in Europe instead of early spring in Boston. He was happy beyond reason to have her beside him, humming along to an aria. He had the urge to find some lover's lane and park. He felt young and almost laughed out loud at the thought of taking her to the basketball game. Yes, exactly like a high school boy with the prettiest girl in school.

Half an hour later Michael pulled into the gym parking lot, and they ambled into the biggest gym Violet had ever seen. She had gone to school in France where they just didn't have these kinds of facilities. She was surprised that there weren't many students, but then it was Friday night. They were probably all out drinking and hooking up. The thought made her giggle. Would she get to "hook up" with Michael tonight? His kiss had surprised the hell out of her. So much for getting over him.

She was wandering while staring up at the ceiling that was six or seven stories up when she noticed it had gotten very quiet. She looked around and realized that there were now ten or so men staring at her like she was an exotic animal. One of them rolled toward her. He oozed male sexuality in a way that made Violet blink like a deer caught in the high beams. "You have to excuse these guys, we don't often get women here and never anything as hot as you." Violet just gulped and stared at him. "Though I've got to wonder what you're doing with the altar boy here?" The man was gorgeous, dark brooding masculinity with just enough little boy mischief to his eyes that women would probably throw themselves at him if they could get past the chair.

All Violet could manage to get out was a confused, "Hmmf."

"Cam, hands off, or I'll put the bullet back where I found it." Michael looked fit to kill.

"Like it could do any more damage," Mr. Brooding-Good-Looks tossed over his shoulder, as his eyes never left hers. "So sweetheart, are you some do-gooder who thought it was 'be nice to cripples week,' or are you actually trying to figure out how to hook up with the good doctor here?"

"I...." She could feel herself turning redder by the second, because she had been wondering exactly that. "That's none of your business!" Thank god she stopped herself from stamping her foot. But only just. "What are you, anyway, his damn mother? Or just jealous?"

"Ooh, she does speak and is a little spitfire to boot. Maybe I am, but if I wanted to make you change your mind, sweetheart," he said, rolling forward, backing her into the bleachers, "all I would have to do is this." He grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

For just a split second she felt like her silk blouse and the flippy skirt she wore had melted off of her, his gaze was searing. She was so surprised she didn't even resist when he kissed her. The kiss wasn't hard or even all that sexually charged. It was like he was doing it for show. She almost fell off his lap when he jolted forward. She would have if it hadn't been for his arms around her. As he caught her, he whispered, "You can thank me some other time." Then he turned and snarled, "What the fuck, Dennison!"

Violet scrambled off his lap in time to see Michael reach for another basketball as he came closer. He looked murderous. Cam spun and put himself between her and Michael. "What's the matter buddy?"

"I said to get your goddamn hands off of her!"

Cam held his hands up in mock surrender. "Just checking."

"Fuck you, what the hell were you checking exactly?"

"Umm, are you boys done fighting over who gets to carry my books?" She grinned at both of them as she moved between them and took the basketball out of Michael's hands. She started lazily bouncing it as the two of them glared at each other. "I went to an all girls boarding school, so I missed out on this kind of stuff." She didn't need to tell them it was a Swiss finishing school. She could just imagine what kind of response that would get. Frankly, seeing Michael murderously jealous was a huge turn-on, not that she needed one. It did bring to mind the darker, less civilized man he'd been that unforgettable night in the hospital. "I think that whoever wins the basketball game gets a kiss."

"What about the rest of us?" came a voice from behind her. She turned around and scanned the group. It was a mix of guys, different ages, different disabilities, but all of them looked at her with something like hope in their eyes. She laughed.

"Kisses for the winning side, but I don't want to find out any of you called me easy in homeroom! Oh, and kisses on the cheek. I see wedding rings. I don't need some crazed woman accusing me of stealing her man."

They quickly picked teams and started playing. Michael and Cam played man to man like their lives depended on it. There was something primal about these two gorgeous men squaring off to win a kiss from her, wheelchairs be damned. It wasn't always pretty to watch though. The game was fast, and those two were playing it with a fierce intensity. To be fair, they all were. A couple of guys wandered over to watch.

"Guess they're not calling fouls tonight."

"Do they always play like this?" Violet asked.

"No. It's usually just a friendly game. What the hell got into them?"

"Oh." She wasn't going to admit to stirring up trouble, but she was flattered none the less.

"Do you know these guys?" She wanted to find out more about what was going on with Michael and Cam.

"A little. The blonde guy with the beard and the guy with the curly black hair have been friends forever.

Ouch! That was a vicious hit. Not that you'd know it from the way they're playing each other."

"Forever?" Now she wished she could just crawl into a hole. She had wanted to make Michael a little jealous, not breakup a lifelong friendship.

"Yeah, since they were kids." Luckily the final buzzer sounded not much later. Michael's side won.

"Well, that was an interesting game. Dennison, didn't know you had it in you?" Cam was teasing him, and Michael looked less like he wanted to kill him, so Violet hoped their friendship was still good. She kissed each man of the winning side on both cheeks. Not weak air kisses but real kisses. Half of the guys blushed to their toes, but all of them smiled at her. She was about to kiss Michael when he growled at her.

"We're leaving."

"But Michael, I didn't give you your kiss?" Dammit, he knew he was the only one she really wanted to kiss.

"I'll take it later." He started to leave, and when she wasn't fast enough, he pulled her into his lap and pinned her there with his glare. He was covered in sweat and should have stunk, but there was something so innately masculine about the smell of him, she dropped her head to his shoulder and practically purred.

Quiet enough so that no one else could hear, she whispered in his ear, "Promise?"

He didn't respond, didn't slow down. It was a good thing she had her bag in her hand or she would be leaving without it. The whole way back to the clinic building neither spoke. Violet could feel the tension coming off him, but she didn't know what to say now to make it better. He took off for his office, and she had to almost run to keep up with him. Once there, she tried to move toward him, but he swept around her and slammed the office door.

"Michael, I'm sorry I...

"Did you like it?"

"What? The game? It was pretty amazing, but I hope you guys don't always play like that."

"Not the damn game! When he kissed you!"

"I..."

"Or when he put his arms around you?"

"I...

"Or when he pulled you onto his lap?"

"Will you let me answer you?"

"I don't know if I want an answer. I haven't heard you say no, so you must have!" He looked like he wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands.

"Michael Dennison, if you will stop yelling at me and listen for half a second! Mostly, all of those things just surprised me. I am not used to men I don't know hauling me into their laps and kissing me." Michael's eyes had turned almost black with rage. "But when he put his arms around me, I didn't want him to keep me there like I do with you. When he hauled me into his lap, I didn't feel like some treasured kitten like I do with you. When he kissed me, I didn't want to purr like I do when I am kissing you." She didn't have to tell him about how she was feeling right now. She didn't feel like purring, damn the man, she wanted to roar. Her blood was screaming through her veins. This wasn't the fluttering she had felt around him other times. He was not leaving here without at least understanding how she felt about him. Hell, at this point would it be asking too much for him to clarify his feelings for her?

She punctuated this thought by dropping into his lap. She reached under his still damp shirt and started stroking his chest and stomach. He grabbed her wrists and held them with one of his hands. He cradled the back of her head with the other and crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue raked her teeth, her lips, captured her tongue, and left her breathless. She gasped when he ended the kiss. His eyes were still dark, but it wasn't rage she saw there now.

"So, my little kitten, you like to be handled, don't you?"

"Only by you." Her voice came out barely a whisper. She wasn't sure what he was asking of her, but he sounded so strong, and she suddenly felt so small.

"Should I pet you, my little kitten, till you purr contentedly, or should I train you to do as you are told so I never have to endure seeing you in someone else's arms."

She could feel her eyes go round with surprise while a wave of heat swept over her and settled hot and wet between her legs. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He forced her to her feet as she regained her speaking voice.

"Wh-What do you mean training?" Her body pulsed just saying it. Her knees were already weak, and her head was buzzing like she'd had too much champagne. The realization that she would willingly be putty in his hands both scared and thrilled her. She noticed she was rubbing her thighs together to assuage the ache between them a second after Michael did.

"Oh no, kitten, there will be no relief unless it is from me." He rolled forward till he was right on top of her. She hadn't realized how tall he was. If he had been standing he would have been over six feet tall. She gulped at how close he was and the look on his face. She wanted to run, but only if he'd chase her. She realized she wasn't afraid of him. She understood he would never hurt her. She couldn't stop herself from trembling, though it had nothing to do with fear.

She jumped when she felt his fingers on the backs of her thighs. At first it was a gentle caress. Swirling touches that moved from the back of her knees up under the hem of her skirt and then higher. He was weaving a spell. She felt her spine go soft. It became harder to keep her eyes open; even her mouth became soft.

She was so caught up in the sensations, she didn't realize Michael had moved his hands higher till he yanked her panties down to her ankles. "Step out of them and hand them to me," he demanded. She started to protest, but he cut her off. "Talking back will be punished. Now give them to me." She handed him her panties and felt the cool air on her wet sex. She felt drugged but knew that anything she was doing was what she chose to do. "From now on you will not wear these things around me, unless I tell you to. If you think I am kidding, you're wrong, and I will be checking." She wanted to ask how but didn't want to interrupt.

She knew her face was bright red as her cheeks burned. "That's my good little kitten. Now should I pet you? Will you purr for me?" He didn't wait for her response but started caressing the back of her thighs again. The same sensations built in her, but this time she stumbled forward and he caught her, positioning her on his lap. He started nibbling on her neck with his teeth and lips.

Violet felt like she was being consumed by fire. Her body was hot, and there wasn't enough air. When she realized that he had unbuttoned her blouse to her waist she looked up at him with glazed eyes. Michael smiled wickedly and reached into her blouse. She moaned slightly, his hand was so warm playing with the sensitive flesh of her nipple. She melted into him. As the nipple came to a peak he grazed his fingernail over the tip, and her breath caught in her throat. Then he pinched the nipple hard. She hissed in a breath, the pressure of his fingers, the rough bite of the lace of her bra sent a bolt of heat to her clit. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. He reached under the lace, weighing her breast in his hand and bent forward soothing the tortured nipple with wet licks and kisses.

"My kitten likes to be played with."

"Yes." It came out as a whisper.

"Take your bra off, but I want that silk shirt back on." She scrambled off his lap to do what he asked. Once it was done, she stood with her back to his desk waiting for him to tell her what to do next. "I like you like this, eyes glazed, half dressed, like you've just been fucked or are about to be. You like it when I don't treat you like a porcelain doll, don't you, kitten? You like when I am taking what I want from you? Answer me."

"Yes." Her voice was stronger, but she still sounded unsure of herself.

"Good, because I really like testing your limits. I am going to make sure you are thinking about me all the time."

"Michael, what about you?"

"Kitten, you don't need to worry about me. Hop up on my desk." When she did, he wheeled right in front of her. "Put your feet on either side of my chair." She did but kept her knees together. "Such a shy kitten." He kissed her knees and caressed the back of her thighs again till she was limp. Then he separated her legs and pushed his shoulders between them. "I am going to mark you so if any man gets close he knows you are mine.

"Wha...hey, that hurts!" Michael gave her a dark hickey on the inside of her thigh about two inches below her pubic bone.

"Sorry, kitten, had to be done. But I know what would make you all better." He started with gentle strokes at the edges of her labia. Gradually the stroking became more directed till he had parted them and worked on the inside edges. It was maddening. He was building her to a crescendo, but she was almost already there.

"Michael, Please I need more."

"This is to please me, kitten. I want to stroke you, make you weep all that luscious sweet cream for me."

Violet felt Michael stroke her harder with two fingers. He reached the fingers out and rubbed them on her lips. "Kitten, taste your cream." Her tongue darted out and licked at her lips. "So beautiful, so sexy." His voice was hoarse. He held his fingers up for her to lick, and she sucked them into her mouth to the last knuckle. She dragged her tongue along the bottom of them as she pulled her head back. Letting him know she wanted more than his fingers in her mouth. "You're a greedy kitten. We'll have to teach you some manners. First, I want some of this sweet cream myself." He ducked his head between her thighs, and when she felt his mouth on her she started to pant.

"Oh, Michael. Please make me come."

"Kitten, of course I can make you, the question is will I let you? Maybe I should leave you just like this to punish you for flirting. But I am greedy, too. I want to feel you fly apart at my touch. I want to look at this desk and think of you spread out on it writhing in ecstasy. First I want to cover my face in your cream and let you lick me clean like a good kitten."

Violet could only moan in response. Michael buried his face in her, painting his cheeks in her juices, rubbing his beard and mustache over her sensitized flesh. He reveled in her movement, the little gasps and noises she made. When she started to shake, he thrust his tongue in deep, feeling the walls of her vagina spasm around it. After she got quiet again, he ordered her on her knees in front of him, and she greedily licked his face clean. She was still flushed and panting.

"Stand up and lose the skirt." Violet didn't hesitate but stood, trying to cover herself, shaking. "Kitten, from the first time I met you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. You don't need to hide yourself from me, and I will enjoy breaking you of the habit. Are you cold?"

"No, I am just..."

"Aroused? Confused? Wanting more?" A slow smile spread across his face.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good, lie on your stomach over the desk."

"Michael! I..."

"Remember, no arguing, or I will have to think of an especially delicious punishment for you."

She did as he asked, but tension radiated off her body. Michael ran his hands over her back, warming her skin, soothing her nerves, gentling her with his words. "Put your arms over your head, kitten." She did. "So beautiful. I have a confession, I find the slight extra curve of your back sexy as hell. I couldn't bear to remove all of it. I love the way it shows off your ass, especially when you are like this." He ran a finger lightly down the scar over her spine. He smiled to himself when goosebumps appeared over her skin. He nipped her hip and caught her when she tried to squirm. "Now, kitten, you are going to come for me again, only this time you will scream with pleasure. I want to hear your abandon."

"Michael, I can't."

Without warning, he gave her a sharp slap on the sensitive spot where her ass met her thigh, leaving a red handprint. He had surprised himself as much as her. Her moan combined with the flush over her body made him shake with need. "I said there would be punishment for arguing. That was a warning. Next time will be worse. You will come when I demand you do." He bent his head and gave the hand print a wet lick. Violet moaned softly again. God help him, she was enjoying him push her limits. He was soothing the red spot with open mouthed kisses when he plunged two fingers deep inside her without gentle touches first. She was so wet there was no real resistance, just tight warm wet heat. She reared up at the surprise claiming but gratified him when she rocked her hips back to meet the thrust of his hand. He pulled them out with agonizing slowness. When he spiked into her this time, he added another finger. Violet answered with a breathy grunt.

"You look amazing with my hand buried in you. Every time I look at this desk I am going to think about fucking you. Think about your gorgeous ass hanging over the edge, and you screaming my name." She actually squealed. He moved his hand so that when he entered her his thumb would bang her clit.

Soon Violet was near screaming. "Oh, Michael, please."

"Tell me this will always be mine."

"Yes!" she screamed.

"That's my good kitten. Come for me now. Show me how much you love this."

Violet didn't think she would. Wasn't certain she even could, but when Michael demanded her orgasm as proof that she wanted this, everything burst forth. She felt herself grind harder into his hand and slap her hips against the desk. Her mind was like an explosion. Wave after wave rocked through her. She reared up and felt Michael's hand on her back pinning her down. His restraint of her brought a fresh wave of spasms tight around his fingers. She would have curled up in the fetal position if she hadn't been pinned facedown on the desk.

Her reaction to his words made the muscles from his abdomen to his solar plexus ripple in waves. Leaving him warmed, exhausted, and stunned, the feeling very like an orgasm without the actual release. Michael pulled her into his arms as she was still feeling the aftershocks. She couldn't form words yet. It was like her memory banks had been erased. Michael absentmindedly rubbed one of her nipples through the silk blouse, and her whole body shuddered.

"Kitten, I am not nearly done with you, I'm afraid. Put your skirt on, nothing else, and come with me."

"Michael, I have to let Allyn know I won't be coming home. It wouldn't be fair to him."

"Fine, call him, tell him you'll see him Monday. You will be with me all weekend."

Thankfully, he was holding her, otherwise her knees would have given out. She had wanted to see behind the doctor's courtly mask. She just hadn't been prepared for the raw intensity of him and the way he dominated her. Oh, all weekend? She was going to be useless by Monday, completely deliciously useless.

"Kitten?" Him calling her that made her muscles clench and her sex weep with longing for him. Michael stopped her thoughts with a tight grip on her arm. He shook her to rouse her back to the moment. "You need to know if you come with me, you live by my rules, even if you don't always like them. You are mine, to protect, to command. I won't let you go, ever. Be very sure that it is what you want. I will understand if you can't handle this. It is all new and raw for me, too, so I am giving you this last chance to back out. I don't think I can do this, be as sexual as I know you need, without being so dominant. I won't ever truly hurt you or humiliate you. I want you to think about what this was like. Unless I'm mistaken, you like me dominating you, but I want to hear you say it.

Violet's mouth worked open and closed without any sound coming out. Finally she was able to ask, "I'm just supposed to cede all power to you?"

"When we are together."

"Do I get to touch you? Because so far tonight you haven't let me. I can't do this if I can't touch you, show you how I feel. This can't be just you doing things to me. Sometimes, I want to make you feel good, too. I also need to know that it will be just me. No pain, no humiliation, no outside people."

"Just you and me. You can touch me, eventually, as a reward if you are good." Michael smiled at her, then he added, "If you say no, I think I'll die, but I will understand.

"Michael, I wanted all of you, I couldn't want anything less even if I tried. Yes, your dominance scares me a little, but I think that might be part of the draw for you; I know it is for me. I have responsibilities that I cannot give up for any relationship, no matter what it involves. That is not going to change. I need to know that you will honor those, so yes, weekends are yours, but I still need to go to work. And there will be times I need to travel. More than that I can't give you. If you are willing to have my submission, on my schedule, then yes, I would like to spend the weekend with you.

Michael tried to hide his smile. Thank God! He'd felt more alive in the last hour than he had in his whole life. She was his. They were bound together in some way he didn't understand fully yet, but bound nonetheless. He didn't trust his voice, so he just reached for her hand and kissed it, recognizing the gift she had just given him.

She followed him to his condo in her car. Violet felt shy suddenly in the elevator. She hadn't buttoned her blouse, not knowing if that would go against Michael's rules but not really caring if anyone saw her. He liked her like this way. What else really mattered?

When they got inside, she was stunned by his place. It was very modern with lots of glass and concrete. The back wall was all windows that overlooked the harbor. The kitchen was open to the large living room with the eating area along the windows. There was a feeling of restraint to the decorating that was very in keeping with what she had seen of Michael before tonight. A gas fireplace opposite the windows had already been turned on making the room feel warmer despite the concrete and chrome. In front of the fireplace was a large flokati rug. The long-haired sheepskin looked so sensual, Violet wanted to strip bare and lay on it. This was Michael's doing, since before tonight she was sure she never would have even thought that.

"Kitten." Michael patted the couch next to where he sat in his chair. Violet walked over in a daze and sat next to him. He turned her face to his and kissed her. His kiss added to the blissed out feelings she had. When he pulled away, Violet whimpered at the loss.

"You are so beautiful, you make me afraid for my sanity." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "And for that reason there will be rules. If you break the rules I will punish you. I can't always promise you will like it." Violet tried to hide her gasp and failed. "First rule, when you are here you will leave your clothes at the door. I want you available to my touch whenever and whereever I want to touch you." She felt her eyes go soft and her nipples hard at his words. Despite the two exquisite orgasms less than an hour ago, she ached for him to touch her again. She was having trouble concentrating on his words as her sex dripped in excitement coating her inner thighs.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Michael yanked her across his lap, pinned her torso with one arm, and flipped up her skirt with the other. With his free hand he spanked her four times on her bare bottom. "Kitten, I do love the way your skin reddens when I spank you. I may have to find excuses to do it more. You will need to pay attention to me or you will give me plenty of opportunities. Not that I mind. Now take those clothes off. The cool leather will soothe your sore bottom.

She was so dazed she sat there for a second before realizing he would spank her again if she didn't move. She jumped up and slid her skirt off and unbuttoned the one button still done on her blouse, shucking it also. She started to put her hands in front of her to cover herself but stopped when she remembered Michael didn't want her to.

Michael saw her make the correction and smiled at her attempt to please him.

"You are my very own Lady Godiva."

"She had a town to save."

"You only need to save me, my sweet Kitten."

He patted the couch next to him again. "I, I can't sit down," she stuttered.

"Why not?" Michael braced himself for her wanting to end their arrangement. He had taken a risk spanking her, but he wanted her to pay attention to him, and better to have it all out at the beginning.

"I...I can't sit down because I...I'm too wet." The last phrase came out as a sigh.

He smiled, thrilled with her honest reaction. She reacted so well to him, so quickly.

"For that, my beautiful princess, you deserve a treat. Would you like to undress me?"

Her eyes snapped up to his, flashing, and then she dropped her gaze subserviently. "Yes, very much," she said in that same breathy voice.

"Fine, but first I would like you to come and kiss me. Do not stop till I break the kiss, do you understand?"

Violet nodded and bent forward. He kissed her gently, at first running his hands over her body, fondling her breasts, running his hands down to the indent of her waist. He pulled her closer. He could feel her soften even more as the kiss continued. When she had no resistance to him, he smoothed a hand over the curve of her ass. His other hand tangled in her glorious hair cupping the back of her head softly but firmly. The hand on her ass followed the cleft down skimming over the tender pucker. She moaned into his mouth.

The heat from the fire combined with the burn from the spanking made Violet's ass cheeks feel like they glowed. His hands felt cool in contrast. His kiss was drugging her into helplessness. Her juices ran down her thighs. She purposely widened her stance to keep from rubbing them together, knowing that Michael had refused her that option. Her only hope was that he would finish her off later.

Michael knew she was ready. He slipped his fingers in her sex. She was so wet she was dripping. Michael coated his fingers in her juices, slowly drawing the wetness higher up the cleft. Violet was enjoying or oblivious to his intent. She was flexing her hips to increase the contact with his fingers, but he made sure to stay just out of reach. Finally he had worked the slick liquid to where he wanted it. His fingers were covered in her essence.

He increased the pressure on the back of her head just slightly, not wanting to betray what he was about to do. She gave no indication she was anything but lost in the kiss. He massaged her anus with his finger making her whimper and then plunged through the tight ring of muscle. She gasped but didn't break the kiss. As he massaged inside her, she threaded her arms up around his neck either to draw him closer or for balance. Soon she was rocking her hips back in time to the rythmn he set. When she did, he added his middle finger and continued the massage. She gasped louder and clung to him. He could feel her body starting to tense and let his other fingers tickle the stretched sensitive skin. Her moan sounded more like a wail, but she didn't break the contact. She had done so well.

Michael broke the kiss now. Easing her head onto his shoulder, he kept up the stimulation of his fingers inside and around her virgin channel. "Kitten, you have been such a good girl. Come for me now, kitten. It is okay to enjoy this." He looped his free arm around her for support as she started to tremble. She was wailing for real now, her body convulsing around the fingers inside her. The climax built up till the contractions were longer than the releases. He knew she wanted to sink to the floor. He held her up, making her ride the waves to their conclusion.

When there was nothing but the aftershocks left, he moved her to the couch to lie on her side. She curled up with her head pillowed on her arms, her eyes closed, taking ragged breaths. She was lost to anything but the sensations of her body.

Violet had dozed off when Michael roused her. "Let me carry you to bed. I'll make you comfortable, and you can sleep." He gathered her in his arms and she clung to him. As he moved to the bedroom, she snuck her hand under his T-shirt. He had said she could touch him. The thought this might earn her another spanking made her vagina clench with fresh desire. She felt bold and wanton, all of these feelings new and different for her.

Michael laid her on the bed where he had already turned back the covers. "Would you like some water? We never got any dinner. I'm sorry, I was so consumed with you I,..."

Violet stretched like a sleepy cat, languid and at home in her body as never before. "Am I allowed to tell you what I need?" She felt oddly shy asking him such a simple question.

He smiled down at her. "I'm afraid that I must make that a rule. It will be important to know what you need, but I may not always give it. There may be times you will beg for release or beg to have me touch you, and I will deny you. But food, water, warmth, basic necessities, those will always be granted. Pain that leads to pleasure is one thing, but I wouldn't ever want you to be truly uncomfortable, you know that. So what do you need, my sweet Kitten?

"Do you have any fruit? I am craving something ripe and juicy right now. Yes, a glass of water also. Maybe white wine if you have it, although it will go straight to my head without any real food." She looked down and said quietly, "You also said I could undress you."

"I will get you cleaned up, and then you can rest while I get some food together for us. Would you like a light supper in bed? Then you may undress me, if you wish."

"Before the food." At his mock glare, she shot back, "It is my treat, and I need it more than the food at this point."

"You are bordering on impertinence, but I will let you get away with it this time." Michael surprised her when he came back with a damp cloth from the bathroom. "Lay back. This will soothe you." The chill on her sensitized sex made her shiver but calmed the overheated nerve endings also. Then he ordered her to roll onto her stomach and tuck her knees under her. Now Michael worked the cool damp cloth over her anus. It felt unbelievably intimate and humbling to be in this position, since she couldn't hide anything from him. She hadn't realized she was sore and still sticky till he had finished washing her. As the cool soothed her, she moaned reflexively and quaked.

He caressed her ass when he was done. "There. Now you should be more comfortable. Pull the covers up and snuggle in while I get the food and drinks." Violet couldn't imagine sleeping, but the bed was so soft, and she was tired from the roller coaster of both physical and emotional mayhem. She would just close her eyes and relax a little while she waited for Michael.

Violet woke with a start. She had been having the most vivid dream, but as she tried to sit up she realized it hadn't been a dream at all. She was held tight in Michael's arms. He had burrowed through her hair so his forehead was against the back of her neck, his breath tickling warm between her shoulder blades. She could feel his chest against her back, the soft hair adding to the sensations. She tried to turn over, but he had her pinned. The only way she would be able to move was to wake him.

"Michael, Michael, I have to get up." she said softly. There was no change in the warm breaths. One of his arms was curled under her neck, and she was feeling devilish now that she was more awake. She turned her head and licked at his arm, then planted her lips and started to suck hard.

After a minute or so Michael woke with a growl.

"Woman! What the hell are you doing?

She looked down at the very impressive hickey on the inside of his forearm. "Marking you as mine. I need to get up to pee, and you wouldn't wake up." The hand around her waist moved to her ass and pinched her. She screamed and jumped out of bed, turning around to glare at him before she started to laugh.

"Come back quickly, seems lonely without you already." He looked like a naughty school boy.

In the bathroom, she plunked herself down on the toilet. She needed to try to make sense of what she was doing and why. She was a perfectly reasonable woman several hours ago, and now she was a willing captive, at least till Monday morning, in a sexually insatiable man's home. She had willingly agreed to this? She must have lost her mind. Of course in her limited sexual experience these last few hours were the most incredible, unbelievable stuff of fantasies. If she told some of the secretaries at the foundation about this they would think her a very lucky girl. He pursued her pleasure with a single-minded devotion terrifying in its intensity.

He hadn't asked for anything in return, and oddly that was the part that bothered her. She knew she loved him, had since the night he had gotten her through the storm in the hospital. Was this just about sex for him? As stunning as he was sexually, she had the odd feeling this wasn't normal for him either. If it was new, would the intensity burn itself out and then would he see there was a real relationship there?

Oh God. What if it really was just about the sex for him? No, she had seen how jealous he'd gotten when his friend had kissed her. That wasn't just about sex. That kind of anger had to be pulled from his emotions. She knew there was something there, even he wasn't sure what yet. She just needed to keep up with him till he could see it. Was it possible to die from too many orgasms? Now there was a project she'd bet a lot of women would be willing to become research subjects for.

She should get back in there. Oh, what was he going to do next? She was both thrilled and scared at the idea. He hadn't done anything to hurt her, just shocked her sensibilities. She splashed some water on her face to bring her to her senses again. She looked in the mirror at her reflection, and she had never looked better. She was roughed up but looked natural and like she had just come from her lover's bed, which she had. Her cheeks were rosy, and her skin glowed. She laughed to herself, depravity looked good on her. The hell with it. She was going to take this where it wanted to go. She liked being worshiped and ravished by Michael, but she would still be herself.

Her attention was caught by his shaving kit on the counter. She knew just how she was going to do it, too.

Michael was getting nervous. Was she hiding from him? She had been in there a while when he heard the shower go on. That confused him. Why would she be taking a shower in the middle of the night. He sat up in bed, preparing for her to come out and tell him she had had enough and was leaving. He was surprised she had stayed as long as she had. Could he beg her to stay? Tell her he'd just love her from afar? She could take her sexual pleasure somewhere else. He was lost in thought when he realized the shower has stopped. She walked into the bedroom. Her hair was dry, so had she showered?

"Um, what took so long? I heard the shower."

"I, uh, wanted to freshen up and give you something for everything you did." Then she walked toward him. climbing on the bed to straddle him. His eyes were wide.

"Um, you shaved."

"Yep, all of it. Well, what I could do myself. Do you like it?"

She saw him swallow hard. "You did this just for me?"

"And me. I wanted to do something to thank you for tonight. Just like I want to do something else for you now. Michael, please let me. I won't do anything that will hurt you. Please let me give you as much pleasure as you give me."

"Later," he growled and rolled, pinning her under him. For the first time she fought him.

"No! Dammit, Michael, you want to be dominant, fine, I get it. But I will not let you use it to hide from me. You don't get to lay me out at will and expect me to just take it. I wasn't kidding about getting to touch you. If you can't hold up your end of the deal, then I'm out of here. It is just too creepy to only be acted on, like I'm some real live sex doll."

He buried his face in her neck. He had known he would have to deal with this at some point, but was hoping he could distract her for a while longer. "There isn't anything you can do for me that will have any effect."

"What the hell does that mean? You are paralyzed, not insensate. Watch." With that, she pushed him to his back and straddled him again. She started with a gentle kiss, deepened it till they were both nearly panting. "Was that horrible? Did you really feel nothing? I'm not just talking about getting off. I'm talking about affection, caring. Geez, sometimes you can be such a guy." Now she trailed kisses along his jaw adding in little nips. When she got to his ear, she sucked his earlobe into her mouth.

"Mmmm." She grinned at his pleasure.

"You like that? Now imagine I'm doing this to the head of your cock." Her use of such a coarse word almost made him laugh. Then she started sucking, using her teeth gently, her tongue. It wasn't hard to imagine this was a blow job. He could feel the muscles in his belly start to tighten. His breath was shallower now.

"Violet, I just don't want you to be disappointed." His words came out almost as a sob.

"Michael, look at me. You are an amazing lover, even if this ends up being all we can do, it is like you trying to walk. Even if it comes to nothing, I will not give up this part of you. Do I make myself clear?"

What the hell had happened to the terrified girl from the hospital? he thought to himself. This woman was fearless and insistent, yet still willing to be dominated by him. It was such an alluring combination.

"Fine, I, I don't always have control of what happens. I've heard horror stories of..."

"Michael?"

"Yes."

"Shut up now, and let me make love to you. I get the feeling its been awhile. So I'll go slow. Nothing to cause a panic, okay?"

"Okay."

She went back to work on his earlobe. Then she was nibbling on the sensitive tendons of his neck. His hands started roaming her body as she kept kissing him. Her mouth was so warm and soft, so good on his skin. His hands found her breasts. He kneaded them till he heard her sigh and then concentrated on her nipples. She stopped the kisses to stare down at him.

"That feels so good." She closed her eyes and started rocking her hips against his. Even with her over the covers, he could still feel the heat of her. She opened her eyes and moved her hands to his chest copying his touch on his nipples. Hell, it was getting hard to breathe.

"Does it feel good when I do it to you?" She made it sound so normal, so innocent. All he could do was groan back at her. She leaned forward and kissed him, trapping their hands between them. When she broke the kiss, she started shifting her position.

"What are you doing? I liked that."

"Progress! You'll like this more. I'm getting these covers off you. I need to feel you touching me." On the last sentence she stared right into his eyes, daring him to put up a fight. He held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Michael, what can you feel, there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, can you feel hot and cold?"

"Yeah. Everything is sort of dulled, but can we just not talk about it?"

"No. If you were doing something you thought I liked, and it did nothing for me, you'd want to know, right?"

"Yes."

"So, we're going to talk about it. I would imagine the sensations get sort of mixed up depending on the nerve damage. Can you feel pressure?"

"What the hell are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet." She looked like a mischievous imp sitting, grinning at him. "I'm just going to play. You'll have to let me know what feels good." And with that she whipped the sheets off him.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face. No amount of PT was ever going to give his legs real muscle, and he found the difference between his torso and his legs stomach-turning.

"Wow, your legs are long. I realized earlier tonight you were tall, which sort of surprised me. You have nice feet, too. Most guys don't."

"That's what you are noticing?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, that and you are, um, well-equipped." She covered her mouth with her hands, but they didn't stifle the giggles coming out. "Hell, if this does come up to full strength," she said, while stroking a finger up and down his penis, "I'm going to be one very lucky girl. Sore, but lucky." She actually quirked her eyebrow at him.

"You are insane." He laughed.

"No, I've become a wanton woman, and it's all your fault. Now I am going to do what I was doing to your earlobe but here." She bent forward and took his half hard penis in her mouth. He thought his heart would stop, all that liquid warmth. Her tongue rasped the sensitive spot under the head. She was sucking and using her teeth. Michael couldn't do anything but lie back, watching her. The sight alone was enough to raise the dead. He held her hair in his hand so he could see her face. She actually looked at him and smiled as she worked her way licking up and down the length of him. He felt like he was floating, and then he snapped straight up.

"What the hell was that?"

She let go of his penis with a pop. "Oh, you could feel that?"

"Hell, yes."

"Did it hurt?"

"No. Just surprised me, I guess"

"Hmm, want to see what kind of reaction I got?" And she did it again. He watched as his penis bobbed to attention. "What do you think of that?"

"What are you doing exactly?"

"Stroking your perineal area with my fingernails, gently of course. Did it feel good? Would you like me to do it some more?"

"Yes, I guess."

She went back to work, and soon he was moaning.

"Michael?"

"Oh God, don't stop!"

She kept up her attention but changed to using her hand on him.

"Do you want to, um, finish?"

"I don't even know if I can. Or what will happen if I do. Does that sound horribly pathetic?"

"No. Just like a guy who is finding the edges of what works for him. Do you want to take this slower, just, um, heavy petting for now? I don't want to do anything that will freak you out and ruin this for you."

"So far its been wonderful. So instead of tempting fate, yeah, could we take things a little slower?"

"Sure." She straddled him again. "Oh, definitely harder. Mmmmm feels good."

She was grinding on him and it felt great. He wanted to memorize this moment. She looked so amazing, he couldn't resist moving her arms up over her head. Her hands played in her hair. She arched her back, pushing her breasts out for his touch. He sat up to capture one rosy nipple in his mouth while he warmed the other with his hand. She moaned in response. Her whimpering became more heated, and then she gasped and clutched at him. He held her as her whole body shook with her orgasm. He was still holding her as she sat there blinking and panting.

"I thought I was supposed to be in charge," Michael said.

"Sorry, that one kind of snuck up on me. Are you angry?"

"I'm never angry with you, kitten, even when I'm punishing you. I don't know if I could be."

"Michael, if two intelligent, passionate people spend any length of time together, eventually they will get angry with each other. The trick is in not staying angry. Now I need sleep. Are you going to be able to?"

"I should be fine, I think. I... look, I don't even really know how to talk about this. Not with someone that I want to spend time with."

She snuggled up and spooned him burying her face between his shoulder blades and pulling the covers over them. "Would it help if I told you my history? There isn't a hell of a lot of it, so it should only take a second. I'm not a virgin, but I have slept with a total of 2 guys before you. I didn't lose my virginity till I was out of college. That relationship lasted a few months, but I wasn't really ready to deal with all the questions about my body. And then there was a one-night stand with a good friend of mine who then decided he was gay. That did wonders for my ego! He said it wasn't me, and I do believe him, but still, it was weird. After that, my back was so bad I didn't have any real sexual response. Anyway, I don't exactly have a wealth of experience to judge you by, so I won't. Does that help?"

"What? Sorry. I missed everything you said after I started picturing you playing with yourself. Am I safe in assuming that is how you knew you didn't have any sexual response?"

She slapped his shoulder. "Ugh. Scratch a man and you find a fifteen-year-old boy underneath."

"Hey, you started it. Would you rather I be professionally detached? How does that make you feel, Ms. Bellows?" He parroted his most uptight clinical voice, which earned him a pinch.

Violet kissed where she had pinched him.

"Don't you dare go back to being clinical. Michael, the dominant thing really, um, gets to me. I like you being in control but still kind of a wild man. Does that make me crazy?"

Michael turned over to face her. "I hope not. Because tonight was the most alive I have felt since I got sick when I was a kid."

"Can you tell me about what happened?"

"There isn't a lot to tell. I was twelve. I got what seemed like the flu, but it wasn't, and when I got better I couldn't move my legs anymore."

"How horrible. I mean, you were just a boy, just figuring out who you were, and suddenly everything is different?"

"It really wasn't like that. I mean, at first they thought that I'd get back to normal or at least close. That was how Cam and I met. I needed to get my homework from school, and the nuns thought he needed a lesson in humility. They didn't count on us teaming up. I helped him with school work. He would sneak me out of the house against doctor's orders. He was going through a badass phase he never really did outgrow. Witness his behavior tonight."

"I think that was only to make you jealous."

"What?"

"Um, let's just say that there was a lot of smoke and not a lot of fire. He also whispered that I could thank him later. I think he wanted to make sure you didn't, um, chicken out. By the way, seeing you jealous--whoa, seriously hot."

He pinched her ass, hard.

"Hey! That is going to leave a mark."

"Don't get any ideas, kitten. Trust me, you do not want to deal with the consequences," he growled.

"Ooh, that's what I am talking about. That look in your eyes right now takes my breath away. Makes me want to wrap myself around you and--"

"I thought you were tired? Damn, woman."

"Sorry, guess when I'm with you I don't need food or sleep or anything but you."

"Yeah, well, you are going to need your strength. So enough talk. Sleep now. It is going to be light in a few hours. We can talk more later." With that, he lay on his back and pulled her half on top of him, her ear over his heart. She had never felt so content in her life and promptly fell asleep.

She felt herself responding to his touch before she even woke. His fingers stroking her bare mons were drugging. She growled and stretched, opening herself up to him. Slowly, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"Go use the bathroom if you need to."

"Good morning to you too. Wha--"

He cut her off. "Last night you were allowed to talk back, that is over now. If you don't get up in the next ten seconds, I will assume you do not need to."

Violet looked at him and realized he wasn't kidding. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom. After taking care of the necessities, she came back as quickly as she could. Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, she hesitated. He looked at her and crooked his finger for her to come to him. She went to him and sat on the bed. He motioned for her to lay down where she had been. "You will not get out of bed unless I allow you." And with that he took two of his silk ties and tied her wrists to the bed. Her heart was pounding, not in fear she realized, but anticipation. It was going to be a very long, interesting weekend.

***

# Monday, Lunch Time

"Vi, can I talk to you?"

"Hmmm? Oh, Allyn, I was just--"

"Staring off into space?"

"Funny."

"So are you going to tell me what you did this weekend?"

"No."

"Well, I can only assume it's a guy. Look, Violet, I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"He's not going to hurt me."

"Really? No broken heart?"

"Better to have loved and all that crap."

"Don't be crude. Am I also safe in assuming that the lucky gentleman, and he damn well better be a gentleman, is Dr. Dennison?"

Violet blushed but went on the defensive. "Allyn, I am not a child, and you are not my father. Do you expect the men I date to declare their intentions to you? Are you going to institute a curfew? Will I get grounded?"

"Look, I would be the first one to say you never really had a rebellious teenage stage. But because you didn't make those mistakes then, you are kind of vulnerable now. I just don't want to see you get hurt when you are finally in a position to do whatever you'd like."

"Allyn, I know you're being the caring big brother you always are. But I am already in love with him. You had to know something was wrong the last few weeks. I felt like I was half dead not being able to see him. I don't know how this will play out, but I do have to let it play out."

He patted her shoulder. "I'll be here to pick up the pieces. Hopefully you won't need it. When are you going out with him again?"

Violet wanted to cry and looked it. "Not till Friday. Our schedules during the week are horrible, so we will just be together for the weekends."

"Do you need me to move anything around as far as your travel plans?"

"No. My schedule is pretty good right now. The weekends are free."

"Okay, kiddo, I'm here if you need me."

"Allyn, you could stand to take a chance, too, you know. When was the last time you asked a woman out?"

"We weren't talking about me."

"But Allyn..."

"Gotta go."

"Chicken!" she yelled to his back. Her cell phone rang then.

"Hello."

"Hello, kitten." Just the sound of his voice set all her nerve endings on alert. She jumped up to close the door to her office.

"Hi, Michael." She sounded as breathless as she felt.

"I miss you," he said.

She tried not to squeal like a teenage girl.

"I miss you, too. I've been useless today. Allyn kind of called me out about it. Got all protective big brother on me."

"Am I in trouble?"

"I told him I'm old enough to make my own mistakes."

"Am I a mistake?"

"I don't think so. Of course, if I'm this useless every Monday my boss might disagree."

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist you this morning. I'll try to show some restraint next time."

"I wasn't complaining. Not that it would have made any difference if I did." If she smiled any harder she was going to sprain something. "Did you call for anything in particular?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Any chance of dinner tonight?"

"Michael, I'd love to see you, but I don't know if I can."

"Just dinner, promise. Well, I do have a little gift for you."

His voice stroked across her as if it were his touch. She knew she shouldn't be this aroused just by him talking to him, but in the state she was in even the shower this morning felt like a caress. It was as if her sensuality, having been dormant for all of her twenties, had come alive and was demanding satisfaction.

"Why does the promise of a gift raise the hairs on the back of my neck?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Silly kitten, if I were there I'd pet you and make--"

"Okay, I get the picture." She was having trouble breathing, and being any more aroused at the moment was going to be the death of her. "What time do you want me there?"

"Shall we say around seven thirty? I'll make reservations for eight fifteen."

"We aren't going to eat in?"

"No. I'd like to show you off, if you don't mind."

"Oh. Okay. I'll see you then."

"See you then."

After she hung up with Michael, she needed to get through the rest of the day, which unfortunately included a meeting she needed to actually participate in. At least she wasn't wondering how she was going to get through the week until she saw him again, as she had been when Allyn walked in. She'd forgotten to ask Michael what kind of place they were going to. Hopefully, the skirt and blouse she had on would be okay because she wasn't going to have time to go all the way home and then back to Michael's in time.

She looked down at her clothes, wishing they were something other than the boring, conservative, but appropriate things she always wore. Would Michael like her in more sensual clothes? He didn't seem to need get-ups or costumes to be aroused. He insisted on her being naked in his apartment, so maybe he didn't care what she wore the rest of the time. Still, he had said he wanted to show her off, and in the outfit she had on, she looked like the well-off secretary she had led him to believe she was. She felt a little guilty not being utterly truthful about what her life was like. But being an heiress had scared most men from even asking her out. At least this way he would get to know her before having to deal with the whole Bellows Foundation legacy thing. That wasn't so bad, was it?

It was 7:18 p.m., and she was sitting in her car in his parking garage. The meeting had been horrible. Actually, the meeting was fine, she had been horrible. Figuring out which of the areas they wanted to focus on for the next round of grants was always difficult. There was only so much money, and there was a whole world of worthy causes to spend it on. Trying to narrow it down to those areas where they could do the most good and have the greatest impact was gut-wrenching. She'd tried to stay focused, but knowing she would be with Michael tonight even if it was just for dinner made it hard to think clearly. The fact that it was just for dinner actually made it worse. This was their first real date, which in light of the weekend they'd had seemed crazy. But then, so was falling in love with your doctor.

Now the big question--panties on or panties off? Michael had been pretty clear the other night, but how into this dominance thing was he going to get? If she left them on and they didn't have sex, would he even know? He had said he'd check, but what the hell did that mean? If she took them off, she'd feel exposed all through dinner. But it also made her smile thinking about having a secret. Since they weren't having sex, she could tell him on her way out the door when she left, and let him think about it for the rest of the week. She smiled, shimmied out of her panties, and stashed them in the glove compartment. Thank God for Pilates, she thought to herself. This skirt was stretchy and didn't hide anything.

She was jumpy, as a nervous cat, on the elevator ride to his apartment. All her nerve endings tingled. Maybe dinner was a bad idea. She didn't feel like eating, but there needed to be more to their relationship than just sex. There was more. They had spent a lot of time in, bed but a fair amount of it had been talking, too. Wasn't that what lovers did? The thought of Michael as her lover soothed her and made her feel warm all over. She didn't feel nervous because this felt wrong, just nervous in anticipation. When Michael opened the door, she drew in her breath. It had only been a few hours and just the sight of him, handsome as he was, made her want to do nothing but curl herself around him. Unfortunately, it also made her feel shy at the moment.

"I missed you, Violet."

"I missed you, too."

"Look at me, kitten. Are you okay with this?"

Why did his calling her that send shockwaves through her? She immediately felt drugged and wanted to tear her clothes off because they all felt too tight. Her lips felt swollen, and he hadn't even kissed her yet.

"Do I get a kiss, my sweet kitten?" he asked as he eased her down to sit his lap. Her arms went around his shoulders of their own accord.

"Of course," she barely managed to say. It was hard enough to breath, let alone speak, with her heart pounding the way it was. Then he was kissing her, but it was more like making love to her mouth. There were little nibbles, licks, bites, suckling her lips, her tongue, exploring her teeth. His hands ranged over her body. She was lost in his kissing till she felt him smile and pull away.

"You take to training well, kitten."

"Hmmm?"

"I wondered whether or not I would get to spank you before we left, but you remembered my instructions."

Violet tried to hide her gasp but knew she hadn't when she saw Michael's smile. "I said I would check, didn't I. Now get undressed, kitten, I have some presents for you."

Violet almost fell off Michael's lap but managed to steady herself and started taking off her clothes in a daze. Michael reached over to the couch and picked up three jewelry boxes. As she removed the last piece of her clothing, she moved closer to the fire. She was covered in goosebumps even though she wasn't really cold. Michael smiled at her and motioned for her to sit in his lap again. She shook her hair back from her face and tried not to feel self-conscious as she walked over and did as he wanted.

He handed her the first box. "I think my pretty little kitten would look even better in a beautiful collar." When she opened the box, she gasped. Inside was a stunning necklace, choker length. Each link was a diamond, or looked like diamonds, more likely they were CZs.

"I'm afraid it was rather expensive, so you'll have to wear it all the time."

"You mean they're real?"

"Of course. I wouldn't want anything fake for you. That would be like lying, and I couldn't tolerate that. Here, let me help you put it on." When he had fastened the clasp, she turned to look at him, and he nodded his appreciation. "Yes, quite beautiful. Now that you have a collar, I think a leash would be appropriate?"

"Michael..."

He pulled a long, sparkling chain out of one of the other boxes.

"See? It's nothing to be afraid of. I'll just hook it here. Doesn't that feel good trickling down your back?" She gave a little shiver, and yes, it did feel sexy and erotic sliding over her skin. It was long enough that it just grazed the middle of her hips. She felt more sensual, her breasts heavy, waiting for him to touch her.

His whisper was like a caress in her ear. "I love the way you look right now, pushing your breasts out, arching your back like that. But I have one more box for you." From that box he pulled another chain, this one heavier and longer than the last. He slowly reached around her waist and fastened it there. It slid down to settle at the top of her hips.

"Michael you got me a slave chain?"

"I didn't realize they had a name. I just thought it would look sexy as hell on you. Where did you hear about them?"

"I went to a boarding school in Europe. There were girls there from the Middle East and other places that had them. Usually theirs had some kind of lock, and often they had a jewel that was attached to a piercing."

"Oh, a lock. I like that idea. A jewel hanging from it would be interesting, but a piercing seems a bit much to ask. I guess this seems pretty tame by comparison. Get up a second. I want to see it on you." Violet did as he asked. "Turn around. There, I fastened them together." He ran his fingers along the leash now fastened to the belly chain. "That is so sexy."

"Michael, you said we were going out to dinner? It is getting close to when we should leave. I should get dressed." She reached for her clothes.

"Oh, not those. I got other clothes for you to wear. I found I like shopping for you. I got a dress and shoes. They're on the bed. Go see." He followed her into the bedroom. Laid out on the bed was a beautiful silk jersey wrap dress in a dark burgundy color. On the floor was a pair of sky high black patent stilettos with a thick platform. Both were expensive designer items, much sexier than she'd ever bought for herself, but beautiful. She touched the silk; it felt liquid. She couldn't wait to put it on. Her bra wasn't quite right, but it would have to do.

"Michael, they're gorgeous. That color is perfect for me. Let me go get my bra, and I'll get dressed."

"No. If I had wanted you to wear any lingerie with it I would have bought it. I think the silk on your skin should be pleasant, no?"

Violet knew she was going to be trying to hide her arousal all night. "This is a brilliant torture."

"Yes, it is. Why should I be the only one tortured? Oh, and you are keeping the chains on. The diamonds should look good with the dress. Get dressed, slowly, starting with the shoes."

A Mona Lisa smile settled on her face as she did a reverse strip tease for him. Putting on the shoes and doing a few turns for him, teasing him with her closeness and then retreating, dancing to music in her head. Then she put the dress on for him. He was right. The silk against her skin did feel delicious. The neckline split almost to her navel, but without a bra there wasn't anything to show. The silk clung to her breasts, cupping them like a lover's hands. The skirt flowed over her hips and swung with every step making her feel girly and flirty in a way she hadn't ever before. When she was dressed, Michael opened one of the closets that had a full length mirror in it so she could see what she looked like for herself. Looking in the mirror, she took off her earrings since they didn't look right with the diamond necklace. She also took her hair down, much better. Now she looked as sexy as she felt.

"Does this please you?"

Michael smiled at her. "Do you want to please me, kitten?"

"Yes, I'd like you to be pleased with the way I look. I've never dressed simply to please a man."

"Yes, it pleases me. Wait. Move your hair off your shoulders. I want to see those nipples tempting me to kiss them. Yes. Perfect. Every man in the restaurant will want you. Let's go. The limo should be waiting downstairs."

"You aren't going to drive?"

"Not when you look like that. I want to be able to touch you. I'll let someone else drive, and I specified that the limo have a privacy window."

"Michael, you said, just dinner."

"I may have lied a little. We will have dinner, but what we do on the way there is just a bonus."

"Oh, dear God."

Michael's deep chuckle told her he would have no mercy, and she was going to be barely coherent at dinner. She should have figured. This dress minus any lingerie was just an invitation to sex. But looking at herself in the mirror again, she looked like a woman that wanted to fall into a man's arms. As long as they were Michael's, she did.

Walking over to him, she bent down to give him a kiss filled with all the love and longing she suddenly felt. He reached up and cupped her breast, flicking his thumb over the nipple. The silk some how magnified the sensations making her knees weak.

"We should go or you are going to have to carry me down there."

"As you wish, kitten." His smile took her breath away.

When they got to the limo, she stood and stared. "Michael, really? A Rolls? If this is your idea of a regular Monday dinner date, what the hell do you do on Saturday night?"

He smiled at her.

"I missed you and wanted to spoil you a little."

"A little! Something like twenty thousand dollars worth of jewelry, and clothes, and then a Rolls to take us to dinner?"

The driver had opened the door and was waiting for her to get in, so she gritted her teeth on the rest of what she was going to say. She plopped herself down in the seat. The interior of the Rolls was meant to be soothing, but for some reason the burl wood and soft leather just made her feel on edge. She heard the driver ask Michael if he would need any assistance and held her breath waiting for him to explode. But he didn't. He just politely declined and asked if he would fold up the chair and stow it inside for him. Michael used his strong arms to swing himself into the seat, and Violet tried to relax.

Once they were on their way, Michael pulled her closer to him. He could feel the change in her but didn't know what had caused it or what to do about it. It was obvious she wanted some kind of explanation for the over-the-top gifts. The problem was he couldn't entirely explain it himself. They had spent one amazing weekend together. Hell, this was their first real date! He didn't know if he was ready to admit to himself how he felt about her, let alone say it to her. This wasn't just about the sex, though even if it were, the gifts were not nearly enough to thank her. No, already there was a level of trust between them that scared the hell out of him. He had always thought he'd be alone his entire life, but now the thought seemed like something far worse than just not being able to use his legs.

"I'm sorry if I went a overboard. I'm not used to having someone to spend money on, and I got carried away." He turned her face to look at him and saw tears in her eyes. "Violet, I only wanted you to feel special, pampered, give you things you couldn't get for yourself. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Michael, it's just all so... overwhelming. You are so overwhelming. Everything you do to me and make me feel. I just... I feel like I can't process it all, can't keep up. I want to be with you, but a little quiet time once in a while is fine, too. Forget it, I can't explain it."

"I get it. I've pushed your limits enough for one night. Do you at least like the gifts? If you don't or if they make you uncomfortable, then you don't have to wear them."

"No, no, they're beautiful, and they make me feel beautiful, but could we just have a quiet dinner. Something like a normal date?"

"Violet, I, um, I've never really been on a normal date."

"Me either." Finally she smiled at him, and he kissed the last of her tears away.

"Here, turn around so your back is to me."

"Why?"

"So you can lean back, and I can hold you, and stare into your eyes, and steal the occasional kiss." Which he did as soon as she had done as he asked.

"There. Comfortable?"

"I love being in your arms."

"Good. Because I intend to keep you here, at least until we get to the restaurant."

Then he kissed her till she was senseless, wonderful, rich, drugging kisses that left her breathless, her body a fire that consumed all the oxygen in her blood. His arms around her the only thing tethering her to reality.

She whimpered, when the driver announced that they were five minutes from the restaurant.

"But..." He held her against his chest, and she was happy to hear his heart beating as hard as hers.

"Violet, you'll have to, um, pull yourself together," he said as she sat up.

"Um, darling, what are you going to do about that?" she said staring at where she had been lying across him.

"Hmmm, that is a new problem."

"I think you're supposed to imagine something very unsexy." She couldn't help but grin and tried not to giggle.

"That will be damned difficult with a beautiful woman grinning at me. He failed to sound angry at all which caused Violet to actually start laughing. "Yes, that will do it. Make the beautiful woman laugh at the poor wretch she has aroused. I pity your poor brother. He should have told you men are very sensitive to being laughed at when they are in this condition."

"I can't be held responsible for biology. I, um, have to undergo my own torment. It is just, thankfully, more private." Then she kissed him on the cheek.

"Woman, that is how I got into this trouble!" But he was smiling at her as she rearranged her clothes and put her shoes back on.

When they got to the restaurant, the driver set up Michael's wheelchair, and Michael transferred to it easily enough. She was surprised when the driver was the one that reached to help her from the limo. When she put her hand on Michael's shoulder, she immediately felt the tension coming off him. When she looked at the entrance, she quickly realized why. The restaurant was an old inn that had been bought and renewed by an exciting new chef according to the reviews she had read. They had not, however, made the front entrance wheelchair accessible. Three steps down to the door, and the door opened out into the walled area.

She knew that hesitating would only make everything worse. "Driver, I'm sorry, I never did get your name?"

"Harold, ma'am."

"Harold, could I ask you to hold the door open for me?"

"My pleasure, ma'am." Violet gave him her most beguiling smile as she whipped Michael around without even asking and as gently as possible tilted him back and rolled him down the short stairs. Thankfully, the interior entry was large and fairly dark. "Hi, we have a reservation. We do, don't we, Michael?" He barely nodded. "Dennison, for two." Then she turned back to Michael. He still looked so shaken. It would have been easier if he had just gotten angry, but this utter resignation scared her.

She leaned into him, catching his hand, and turning so the maitre'd couldn't see what she was doing. "Michael, I am going to need you to protect me from all the leering men when we get in there." She whispered in his ear as she turned his face toward hers. Then she used her other hand to guide his through the wrap of the dress and up her inner thigh. When she felt his fingers start to explore how wet she was, she closed her eyes for a second, afraid her knees would give out. When she opened them again, Michael was staring at her with a look of thanks and desire on his face. She smiled back at him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Finally pushing his hand down, she stepped away and turned back to the maitre'd.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Dennison."

"I'm not..." The man had already started walking away so it seemed pointless to correct him. She let Michael lead the way so he could situate himself. Then she sat as the maitre'd pulled out the table so she could slide into the banquette. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Hmm, Mrs. Dennison? She tried to hide her smile. Mrs. Violet Dennison, or would the more traditional Mrs. Michael Dennison be better? Okay, enough high school name games. Michael had never even intimated that he wanted anything like marriage.

"They are all staring at you dear."

"Who?"

"All the men, they are thinking why the hell is she with him?"

"Michael, I don't..."

"It wouldn't matter if I had two good legs. It's just the way men react to a beautiful woman. The uncivilized part of them thinks that any sexually attractive female should be theirs. And you are Violetta." His use of the nickname he had given her at the hospital sent a warm blush over her.

"Maybe, but I am only yours."

"You say the nicest things . . . Mrs. Dennison."

"I wondered if you heard, but now you are teasing. Should I remind you again this is our first date?"

"No need. Just trying it out. It has definite possibilities."

"Didn't your mother teach you it isn't nice to tease girls?"

"But darling, I know how much you like me teasing you when we are in bed."

Violet blushed and looked to see if anyone had heard him. "Evil man. Figure out what you'd like for dinner, so we can pick a wine. They are supposed to have an excellent cellar."

After they placed their order, Michael reached over and held her hand. "I didn't thank you for being so gracious about getting me in here. I was so intent on getting everything set up that I never asked about access. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"How did you embarrass me? By needing a little help? That is ridiculous. Embarrassing would have been if I had let you bounce down the stairs after I had fallen on my butt in these heels. That was the only thing I was worried about."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He looked as though he was about to say something when the sommelier brought the wine, and then the moment was gone.

Michael had wanted to tell her how much her stepping in when he was lost meant to him. How, what for her had been nothing, salvaged a little of his pride. And he would have told her, except he seemed to have turned into a drooling idiot around her. He had planned this dinner to show her that he wasn't some sexually depraved animal. Show her that he was in fact erudite, enjoyed the finer things in life, including the best food, fine wine, good conversation. All of which should have been there and was, with the exception of the conversation.

He couldn't seem to form coherent sentences with her near him. The food and wine were superb, but he barely noticed. They were now starting dessert, and he could hardly remember what he had eaten for his entree. He was consumed with her, the light playing in her hair and eyes, the feel of her thigh pressed against his. Half way through the meal he hadn't been able to stand not touching her, even if it was only incidental contact, so he had damn near dragged her to him.

In doing so the wrap dress has gotten caught under her and completely exposed her thigh. When she tried to fix it he had stopped her. Telling her that no one could see but him, and he appreciated the view. She had blushed, but left her thigh exposed for him to caress. From that point on he barely remembered to breathe. As the meal went on, he couldn't keep his hands off her, first stroking the back of her neck till she sighed and closed her eyes. Then he grazed his knuckles along the side of her breast, and her eyes flashed open. When she found him staring into them, her mouth curved in the faintest smile. Damn the woman. Who was seducing whom here? When he could feel the heat coming off of her and could smell the creamy spicy scent of her arousal, he knew he would break his promise to her.

Slowly he stroked her thigh with the lightest of touches. By the time they had gotten their after dinner drinks, she was curling her hips up to press against his hand. He reached up to the back of her neck, playing with the chain hanging down from there.

He turned toward her and whispered in her ear.

"My pet, lean back for me and spread your legs a little."

She seemed to wake from a dream and caught his eye.

"Michael? I don't think--"

"No one will know, if you can be quiet, kitten. The waiter will not come back till I pay the bill. It's dark, and none of the other tables are paying the least bit of attention to us. Please, I know you need release." His last sentence was barely audible but when he gave a soft tug on the chain she lay back letting her legs relax open. He edged his fingers closer to her cleft. She was sticky well below the tops of her thighs. Glancing down at her nipples through the silk dress, he chuckled softly in her ear, "Oh yes. You know you need this."

He started nibbling her earlobe and was rewarded with a breathy moan as her eyes drifted closed. He ran his fingers softly up and down her bare outer lips teasing faint whimpers from her. Stroking just along the edges caused her to spread her legs wider and groan slightly. When he flicked her clit, she hissed like she had been burned. He slid his fingers into her warm, wet core and felt her tighten around him. She had her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips. He wanted to memorize the sight of her like this, gorgeous, flushed with arousal, completely his.

He turned his hand so the palm covered her mound and moved his thumb to work her clit. She was so wet, but he would make her even more so. He started moving his fingers inside her. Alternating their strokes so they worked against each other. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked into his as she bit down on her lower lip.

"Kiss me, kitten," he whispered in her ear. She took a deep breath that dragged her nipples across the silk and tasted his mouth. Her arms wound around his shoulders, and she pulled him into her like a starving woman. When she did, he increased the pace and pressure of his fingers working her sensitive flesh. She rocked harder against his hand as her lips and tongue devoured his. Michael kept his eyes open fascinated by the emotions playing over her face, all of them beautiful. Finally, he saw her eyes shoot open as the first pulse of her orgasm hit. He crushed her mouth to his, sucking her cry from her lips as he held her body. All her efforts to mask any outward signs had forced the energy in, shattering in its intensity.

As she came back to reality, he smiled against her lips and murmured in her ear, "Mmm, my kitten of a wild cat."

"Oh! You are truly evil," she whispered under her breath. "What happened to not having sex tonight?" She was glaring at him but with a half smile on her face that made him want to get the hell out of there soon so he could do wicked things to her.

"Umm, sorry?"

"If only you could look the least bit convincing." Then she started laughing, and he knew she wasn't really angry at him. "We need to get going, I have to be at a meeting tomorrow morning and my boss noticed my sudden lack of attention to work today."

Michael signed the bill and collected his credit card. "Why don't I just drop you at your place, and then you can come get your car tomorrow night?"

"And not get out of there till the next morning? I don't think so. Much as I have enjoyed this evening, I think we should stick to the original plan and only see each other on the weekends. I don't know if I can physically take more than a couple days of you at a time."

The chauffeur helped get Michael up the stairs, which was good since Violet's legs were still shaky.

Once they were in the car, he said, "So you're not going to come up stairs with me tonight?" He felt like a disappointed five-year-old about to throw a tantrum.

"Michael, I can't. I need to maintain some level of professionalism at work, and that is tough to do when I am both exhausted and hyper-sexuallized."

"I'm not sure that is even a word?"

"Ugh, fine! I can't run around all day, every day with my panties soaked because I can't stop thinking about you or what you do to me. Is that better?"

"Mmm, much. Can't stop thinking about me, hunh? You do realize that if we don't see each other all week, then I just have all that time to think up new ways to torment you."

"Oh dear God."

"I'm not sure prayer will help in this case." He smiled down at her as he pulled her up against him. He gave her a melting kiss and slid his hand into the neckline of the dress, cupping one of her breasts. When she tried to pull away, he said, "What about dessert? I never even got a taste of these. He rubbed his thumb over the nipple, bringing it to a peak. Violet groaned but moved closer to him. As he bent his head to tease the nipple with his lips, he chuckled at her willingness to let him do as he wished.

***

# Board of Directors meeting, Lyric Opera of Boston

Michael hated being late, but sometimes it was unavoidable. It could take forever to find the accessible entrances and exits, so he tried to be early to every meeting. Unfortunately, this morning's appointments had run over, making him good and late. At least he was better at managing his temper since he'd met Violet. Now things like being late when he really couldn't have done anything else rolled off his back instead of frustrating him to no end. Being the newest board member, he wasn't likely to be able to contribute much anyway. The receptionist pointed out the conference room, and he found it with little difficulty. On entering, the chairwoman noticed him first and nodded.

"I'm terribly sorry, Madeline. My patient appointments ran long this morning."

" No worries, Michael. Everyone, I'd like to introduce our newest board member, Dr. Michael Dennison, brilliant surgeon and tremendous opera afficiando. Michael, I won't overwhelm you by introducing everyone at once. Why don't you take the space over there." When he was introduced he saw one dark, curly head snap to attention. As luck would have it, the space he was directed to was right next to her.

"Ms. Bellows, how nice to see you here. I had no idea you were on the board."

"I'm here as a representative of the foundation. You never mentioned you were going to be here, either."

"It must have slipped my mind the last time I saw you." Michael smiled at Violet's blush. No doubt she was remembering last weekend also. By the time she had left on Sunday night, there wasn't a room in which he hadn't made her scream in orgasm. He loved that she was so responsive to him. Even here and now, he could see her becoming aroused.

He leaned in closer to her.

"You have a spanking coming my dear kitten," he said under his breath so no one could hear but her. Violet's head shot up, and she was completely red in the face now. Her breathing was short and quick. He'd never be able to wait till the weekend to touch her.

"Why?" she whispered back

"You have panties on, do you not?" He looked away from her ending the conversation. But all through the meeting he could see Violet shifting in her seat and rubbing her legs together to assuage the ache that had overtaken her. Michael tried to hide his smile of satisfaction. This was the most enjoyable meeting he had ever sat through. As it broke up, he turned to Violet. "Ms. Bellows I have a couple more things I'd like to discuss with you. May I escort you down to your car?"

Violet smiled politely. "But of course, Dr. Dennison." Under her breath she added, "You are a truly evil man."

Michael couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. "But of course."

By the time they reached Violet's car she was shaking in anticipation of what Michael was going to do. She didn't have to wait long.

"Take them off."

"Oh, Michael, how was I supposed to know you were going to be there?"

"Excuses will only make the punishment last longer. How long can you take being teased Violet?"

She only hissed at him in response. After glaring at him for a few seconds she hid behind her car door and reached under her skirt shimmying out of the bit of lace. When she stepped out of it she handed them to Michael. "Happy now?"

"Darling, you know the only time I am truly happy is when you are in the throes of an orgasm. Which brings me to your punishment, do you choose now or later? If you choose now it will be over fairly quickly, but it will be right here so still somewhat public." She was bright red again. "If you choose later, well, I can tell you it will definitely start with spanking, but I would have till the weekend to think of all the things I want to do to you."

"You aren't going to spank me here are you?"

"No, kitten, I have something much different in mind."

"Damn you. I guess now. I have visions of being tied to the bed for the weekend."

"You seemed to like it the last time." He rolled closer to her, trapping her in the space between her car and the door. "All you have to do is stand there, kitten. Well, that and not scream when you come. I'm afraid it will echo loudly in this parking garage."

She gasped but he didn't give her time to think, sliding his hand up the inside of her thighs. Within minutes he had her hanging on to the car for support as she bit her lip to stifle her scream of pleasure. When he finally removed his hand from her he licked her juices from his fingers as she watched with her eyes half closed.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, kitten. I know I will." He turned and, laughing, left her to go back to work without her panties.

***

# Logan Airport: Flight 486 arriving from Paris, a Saturday night in October

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Logan Airport. The local time is 8:36 p.m. Connection information is on the monitors at the gate. For those of you staying in the Boston area, your bags will be on carousel eleven. The captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belts sign, and you may now use your cell phones and electronic devices. Please be aware when opening the overhead bins, as the contents may have shifted during the flight." With that, it seemed everyone flipped on their phones or stood up and popped open the bins above them.

Violet turned on her phone and speed dialed Michael. It had been three weeks since she had seen him last. Three very long weeks. She ached with need in a way she hadn't in all the years before she had met him. On the third ring Michael picked up.

"Michael? I just landed. I should be there in about an hour."

Violet looked over at the man sitting next to her as she started to answer Michael's questions. "Yes, I'm wearing the chains. Yes, all of them." She could feel her cheeks burning. "No, I didn't." Sneaking a peak at the guy next to her, silently wishing Michael wouldn't push. She grimaced when he, of course, did. "Fine. No, I didn't touch myself at all while I was gone. Happy now?" She was looking down at her lap and couldn't help but notice that the poor guy next to her now had an erection that looked uncomfortable. Without looking at him, she threw her blanket on his lap, watching him clutch at it like a someone drowning.

"I'll be there as quick as I can. I missed you, too." She was beet red, but she grinned like a fool. Oh, that man made her crazy. Also daring, horny, and alive, but mostly crazy. She took a deep breath and finally looked the poor guy next to her in the face.

"Um, sorry about that."

"I should be apologizing to you. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"It wasn't like you could help it."

"No, I suppose not. I really need to find a girlfriend. He, um, sounded demanding."

"Its kind of all an act. He doesn't do anything that scares or hurts me. Just likes to sort of push my buttons. Its been a while since we've seen each other."

"Lucky guy. Does he know you love him?"

"Is it obvious? No, he probably doesn't. Guys never seem to get when the right girl comes along until they leave."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'd tell you to enjoy the rest of your weekend, but I need to be able to get out of here without embarrassing myself."

Violet moved into the aisle and started laughing. She only had her carry-on bag so she could catch a cab to Michael's right away. Forty-five minutes later, she was ringing his doorbell. That had to be a record for Boston traffic. When he answered the door, she pounced on him. As she was kissing him, she felt his hand wander up her thigh to her waist under her skirt.

"I gave up and stopped wearing them, especially with skirts. Does that bother you?"

"I'm not sure. I wanted you to do that just for me."

"Oh, there are lots of other things I do just for you. If you'd let me, I could think of a couple more you haven't let me do yet."

"Get undressed."

"Michael..."

"No arguments. I can't wait any longer to touch you. It feels like you've been gone forever. Besides, I have a very special present for you."

Violet started undressing. "You didn't go crazy, I hope?"

"Umm, no this is something very personal I had made for you. Go get into bed."

Violet had butterflies, which seemed silly considering how often they did this. When they got to the bedroom, Michael had her put on a blindfold, saying it would help her feel less inhibited. She would have laughed if Michael hadn't been looking so serious. Any inhibitions she'd ever had were gone. Where she had always been quiet and shy, now she spoke her mind and didn't panic being the center of attention. She was much more confident in her work. Even Allyn had noticed and commented that maybe Michael was good for her after all.

"Michael, if I have this blindfold on, how am I going to see my present?"

"This one I want you to feel first." Violet gave an involuntary shiver. Even after all these months his way of making the most normal thing sound so erotic still caught her off guard. "Can you keep your hands above your head or should I tie you up?"

"You want me to choose?" The thought seemed absurd.

"Either you choose or I will."

"Oh God, I guess... tie me. I have no idea what you are going to do."

He whispered in her ear, "I knew you were going to choose that. Restraint always lets you get a little wilder."

Violet could only moan softly. He knew her too well. With her hands tied together over her head and the blindfold on, she was completely at his mercy. Her nipples were already hard, and she had been wet since she heard his voice on the plane.

"Now, kitten, this is going to feel cold at first, but it will warm up with your body heat. I'm going to start where the cold might be... interesting. Tell me what you feel."

She felt a shock of cold on one of her nipples. "Oh!" She squirmed. "It is cold, but also pebbled." Michael moved the pebbled surface over her nipple. It felt almost like a cat's tongue. "That feels good, though." He started on the other one. Whatever it was, it felt hard and seemed heavy but was also getting warmer the longer Michael massaged her with it. By the time he finished with her nipples, they ached, and she couldn't help whimpering when he stopped. "Michael, I need to feel you, too."

"Always my greedy kitten." But she heard him go around to the other side of the bed, heard the rustling of his clothes and felt the bed dip as he got in it. His body touching hers felt electric. He was so warm against her. He placed a warm kiss on one of her nipples and then took her mouth. Warm, liquid kisses, sweet and rich like good port and just as likely to make her senseless. But she had missed these most of all. Except that with her hands tied she couldn't touch him, which was frustrating the hell out of her.

"Michael, this is too frustrating. Please, please untie me. I need to be able to touch you."

"No. Remember I told you I wouldn't always grant your requests."

Violet answered him with a growl. She felt him pick up the present that had fallen between them. It had absorbed both of their heat so it was now warm. He stroked her inner thighs with it. Instinctively, she opened herself for him, and he moved to stroking the length of her cleft. After of a few minutes of that slow torture, he found her opening and slowly slid the phallus in.

"How does that feel, kitten?"

"Full, but not painful at all. Like its hitting all the right spots at once."

"Perfect. I designed it just for you. I had an artist carve it from marble. Your own miniature work of art. Let me attach these." Violet felt chains like the ones she wore drip between her legs. Then she could feel Michael connecting them to the belly chain. When he finished, he kissed her again and started massaging her clit.

"Oh, Michael. Oh! I can't take being tied up anymore. I need you to untie me now, I need this blindfold off!" She sounded so distressed that Michael stopped and removed the tie and blindfold.

"Too much? I didn't mean to scare you."

"Yes, too much. But you didn't scare me. I just... Michael, I need to touch you. I need to make love to you, too. Can I move with this thing?"

"You should be able to. It might feel a little heavy so you will need to use your Kegel muscles to hold it. It isn't any longer than say, my fingers for instance.

"Michael, it has been months, and I have been patient, but I want to get you off. The whole nine yards, I mean it. No matter what happens, and yes, I know all the horror stories. I need to at least try. We've come close, but you won't let yourself go. You like seeing me in full climax. Why won't you let me see you that vulnerable?"

"Because what if it all goes wrong? What if something happens, and you are so disgusted you never want to touch me again? What if nothing at all happens? Are you going to be able to deal with that? Violet, I... I love you, and I would rather you have this piece of me than risk you leaving. Can you understand?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This was going to hurt like hell, but there wasn't any other way. She just hoped eventually he would forgive her. "No, Michael, I don't understand, and I can't do it anymore. You are using your situation to hide from me. You say you love me, and I think you believe it, but if you can't let yourself be vulnerable with me, then you don't truly trust me to be there when things are really bad. I can't accept just a piece of you. I can't be your kitten and just take from you. I'm done."

She got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When she came back, Michael was still in bed. She left the chains and carving on the end of the bed. Michael just stared at her as she went to the living room. A short while later, he heard the front door open and close and then nothing. Violet made it to the lobby before the tears started falling. She made it into the taxi before she started sobbing outright. The poor Indian cabbie had no idea what to do, so he just kept mumbling endearments in Hindi.

By the time she got home, she was cried out, at least for the moment. Exhausted, wired, and hungry. she made her way to the kitchen hoping she wouldn't run into Allyn. The last thing she wanted to hear was "I told you so" from her brother. She should have stopped when she saw the light on, but in her dazed state she just walked right into Allyn. He put his arms around her to stop her from falling, and she clutched at him and started crying all over again.

"Hey, it can't be as bad as that," he said, stroking her hair. "Um, did the good doctor do something stupid?"

"No," she croaked. "I did. I ended it, at least for now. Oh, Allyn. It really does hurt! I mean, physically hurts."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

"Is this it? Is this why you never date? Because someone broke your heart like this?"

"Not quite. She didn't mean to. She couldn't help...never mind, What can I do? Should I be the obnoxious big brother and go beat him up for you?"

That made her laugh. "Don't you touch a hair on his head!"

"Still in love with him then?"

"Hopelessly."

"I'd tell you to start drinking, but I think it only works for men. Shopping? Isn't that what women do?" He turned away and opened the freezer. When he turned back he had a quart of ice cream in his hand. "I believe under the circumstances this becomes a single serving."

"Great. So I'll be miserable and fat." He turned to put it away, but she stopped him. "Hey, I didn't say I wasn't going to eat it!"

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Eventually. I just hope he comes to his senses soon. Thanks. You are a great big brother."

"Thanks, I'll cue up a bunch of sappy chick flicks in the screening room for you," Allyn said as he was walking away.

# The following Friday at the Gym

"Jeez, Dennison, you look like shit. And where is the cream puff?"

"Cam, for once in your life can you shut the fuck up?"

"Damn, you didn't screw that up, did you? Fuck, you did, didn't you? That girl had it so bad for you. How the hell did you manage to push her away? After all this time I figured you were good to go. Early on she must have realized what an asshole you were.

"I'm out of here, shithead." Michael wheeled himself outside. The air was cold, but he didn't care. He was so miserable he barely felt it.

"Michael, wait up!"

"What? Come to get more licks in?"

"No, look, I'm really sorry. I was kidding. I didn't think you two had really broken up. She really was crazy about you. So what the hell happened?"

"She walked out, said I couldn't give her enough."

"She didn't strike me as the spoiled heiress type. True, she's got more money than God, but she never seemed in your face about it."

"What the hell are you talking about? She's got some nonprofit job at some foundation. She's comfortable, but rich? I don't think so."

"You really need to look at something besides medical journals. My niece, Delia, you met her, almost blew a gasket when I told her you were dating Violet. Violet doesn't work at the foundation, she is the foundation. Well, she and her brother. They have like Gates/Buffet kind of money but are seriously quiet about it. Delia is getting her degree in information security, and in one of her classes she had to find out everything she could about a local celebrity. So she scoped out Violet. I only realized when I saw one of the pictures she pulled off the internet."

"You mean to tell me... I gotta go."

"Buddy, don't do anything stupid. You look fit to kill someone. Why don't you come back in and take it out on the court? Seriously, Michael, don't call her when you're like this. You're just going to regret it."

"Undoubtedly," Michael yelled from his car as he started the engine. He knew on some level Cam was right, but it just kept boiling in his brain. Was their whole relationship some kind of joke to her? He had thought she'd been overwhelmed with the expensive gifts. Maybe she didn't think they were up to her standards? And the whole submission thing, was she just laughing behind his back? The poor broken cripple thought he could play tough with the fucking heiress.

At nine thirty Violet's cell phone rang. She was already in bed and feeling sorry for herself. It had been a whole week, and Michael still hadn't called. She looked at the caller ID and tried to stop her heart from pounding. She missed him so much, maybe he just needed more time.

She hit the answer button.

"Michael?"

"Don't say a fucking word. I just wanted to tell you, as bad as I thought I felt last week when you left, it was nothing compared to tonight when I found out you have been lying to me all along. Why did we never go to your place, Violet? I always thought it was because you lived in some walk up, and you didn't want to embarrass me, or you were too embarrassed that I had more money than you. But no, you didn't want me to know that you live in a fucking mansion on the shore, and really you were just embarrassed by me."

"Michael, that isn't true."

"You're not rich?"

"Yes, I am rich. The house is the only obvious sign of it. I was never embarrassed to be with you Michael, ever. I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest with you. I just wanted a chance for us to get to know each other without the money getting in the way."

"And you had the audacity to slam me for not trusting you? You couldn't even be honest about who you are. So was the sex thing just some fucking joke, see if you could get the cripple to get off? I've heard the rich are into weird kink. Was that all it was? Some sick way to have a feeling of accomplishment?"

"Oh, Michael." She was crying now. There was no way he could miss it. "Please. Don't make what we did into something cheap. I can't believe you could be so cruel. Good-bye, Michael."

She hung up and started sobbing so hard no sound came out. When it did, it came out as a keening wail, bringing Allyn running to her room. He didn't need to ask, he knew it had to do with Dennison. Wheelchair or not, he wanted to kick his ass. Violet hadn't been like this since their parents had died. All he could do then was hold her, so that was all he did now. Finally, in the early morning she fell into an exhausted sleep, and he went back to his room.

The next morning Violet came downstairs to find a plane ticket sitting on her plate with a note from Allyn. The note read: _Take a couple weeks off. Tante and Oncle miss you. Give them all a kiss from me, too. Allyn_.

Maybe a trip to Grasse wouldn't be such a bad thing, except for the part of actually getting out of her pajamas. If she could manage that, it would only get easier from there. Looking at the ticket, she'd have to hurry if she was going to pack and make it to the plane that afternoon.

## ***

After three weeks of being spoiled and fed by _Tante_ Marrianne, Violet knew she had to go back soon. The foundation was too much for Allyn to run alone, no matter how much she wanted to hide. Her parents and Allyn had raised her to do her chores first, play second. As an adult that meant she felt guilty hanging out like a teenager with her cousin Marie-Hèllene. _La Reine_ , the queen, as everyone called her, had recently graduated from university, and it was fun to spend time with her just being girls.

"Violette, _je ne comprend pas_. I don't understand, this man, he is angry because you are rich? Here, the man would be happy to have a rich wife."

"Maybe he did not want a wife."

" _Mais_ you said he told you he was hurting when you left. He might not want the wife now, _mais_ he did not want you to leave."

"La Reine, you'll understand when you fall in love. None of it makes any sense."

" _Bouf_. I have been in love with the same man _jamais_ , forever, and he still will not look at me. I know it makes no sense. I tried to fall in love with other men when I was at university, but they were all just silly boys, and I did not want a boy. You do not have to tell me about _l'amour_." Then she laughed, " _Mais le sexe, fantastique, non_?"

"La Reine! _Oui, plus que fantastique_." And Violet laughed too. She missed Michael with a physical need that wouldn't relent. Not just because of what he did to her sexually, but their closeness, the way he looked at her, just speaking with him. But she couldn't change who she was any more than he could.

In another couple of days she would have go back. "La Reine, what are you going to do? It has been months since you graduated, and as much as _Tante_ and _Oncle_ like having you here, it is time to get a job and start living your life, no? Maybe hunt down that man you are in love with and make him listen to reason? Why don't you come back to the States? You could stay with Allyn and me. Maybe work at the foundation? We're always looking for good people with finance and law degrees. If you like it, you can stay. If not, call it an internship." Violet felt more excited than she had since she and Michael broke up. "Please. Think of the fun you can have torturing Allyn."

"I... I would like that very much. Will Allyn mind me in the house?"

"I don't know why he would, he has always had a soft spot for you, ever since you made fun of his accent and called him Eeenglish. Why else would a twenty-year-old boy spend an entire summer learning French to please a five-year-old girl."

Marie-Hèllenne smiled wider than Violet had ever seen her.

" _Oui_ , I'll do it. _Mais_ , when will you leave?"

"I'll go in a couple of days, but you can get what you need done and come whenever. It will be like having a sister for me."

" _Bouf_ , I have nothing but sisters. I am looking forward to torturing your brother!"

"You always did save your worst pranks for him. I'm so glad you'll come. Now I will have something to look forward to when I go back."

***

# Back in Boston

It had been twenty-two days, sixteen hours, and forty-five minutes since Michael's life had imploded from his own stupidity. He had transferred patients and taken vacation time, he was so useless. He had tried everything to get her out of his system, even thought about getting a call girl but rejected it. He didn't want a woman, he wanted _that_ woman. He rationalized that he was right and she was wrong and she'd call him. When he saw the opera board meeting on his calendar, he knew he'd see her there. He had decided he was an idiot, and he'd apologize. She wasn't there. He had gotten desperate and called the foundation, only to be told she was on an extended leave. Now driving to her house, he knew he he'd do anything for her to take him back.

Getting out of the car in the circular drive, he looked the house over. "House" was a quaint term for what stood in front of him. Like the "cottages" of Newport, it went on forever. It could have been a dorm at a small college, one nobody except the super wealthy would be able to afford. He looked at the entrance and swore under his breath. Three steps up to the entry portico blocked him from even ringing the damn doorbell. He put his head in his hands and tried not to scream in frustration.

Michael had no idea how long he sat there. He was now cold and miserable, or rather, more miserable than when he'd arrived. He heard a car pull in the drive but didn't look to see who it might me. He heard footsteps behind him, male from the sound of them, certainly not Violet's.

"Dennison? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Allyn, I..."

"I don't know that I want you anywhere near my sister. Frankly, it is only the thin veneer of British civility keeping me from bashing you in the face. What the hell did you say to her anyway, man?"

"I called her a liar because she led me to believe she worked at the foundation instead of owning it."

"Ugh. Always the goddamned money. We run the foundation. Violet does indeed work there. Yes, it has our family name, but it's not like we could take the money back and do whatever we want with it. All of the Bellows money is in a trust. Violet and I get a nice share, but aside from that, the only thing we got when our parents died was this house. Violet refuses to sell it for sentimental reasons, but in this economy..." Allyn shook his head. "Don't know why I'm explaining any of this to you. So I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize to Violet, but I couldn't even get to the doorbell."

"Violet isn't here." Allyn looked at Michael and thought he'd never seen a man look so pitiful. It was obvious that the man was in love with his sister, whether he realized it or not. "You look like you could use a drink. I have an excellent collection of single malts. Come in and have a drink. How long have you been sitting here? You look blue, for God's sake."

"But the steps..."

"Yes, well I think I can manage getting you up and back down." Allyn backed the chair up the steps easily and opened the door, escorting Michael inside. Michael didn't speak again till they were in the library and the scotch had been poured.

"Where is she?"

"France, but I'll not tell you where, so don't think you can run off and find her. She should be home soon enough, and then let her decide if she'll see you. Does she know how you feel about her?"

"I told her the last time I saw her, but that was the night she walked out on me. Then I... she must hate me."

"No, I suspect she is in love with you. Though you being a typical male seemed to have messed it up. We all do that, don't we?"

"So you think there might be a chance?"

"I know my sister to be one of the most forgiving people I have ever met. That said, no promises. I will tell her you came here to apologize. Have you had anything to eat? She'll kill me if you end up in an accident and I was a precipitating factor."

"No, but I couldn't intrude more than I already have. I should be going."

"Nonsense. I'll have Sheila make up some steaks. Frankly, I'm tired of eating alone after three weeks of my sister being gone. And it wouldn't hurt to spend some time getting to know you. Might work in your favor with Violet."

"Thank you. I shouldn't ask, but has she mentioned me at all? God, I sound pathetic."

Allyn burst out laughing. "No more than the rest of us when we realize we can't live without them. Let's go see what we can scrounge up from the cook. Grab the scotch."

By the end of a very pleasant dinner, Allyn knew several things. Dr. Dennison was a decent man with a quick intellect, and Violet could have done much worse than fall in love with him. Dennison was head over heels in love with his sister. Lastly, he found he and Michael had much in common, and he actually liked the man. If everything worked out well with the doctor and Violet, there were worse things than being friends with one's brother-in-law.

When Violet arrived home several days later, Allyn told her about his dinner with Michael.

"Violet, I know you were upset, but I really think he meant to apologize for being an ass. You women really do make us men crazed, and we aren't truly equipped to deal with the confusion. I'm not saying you should rush into anything, but I thought he was a decent man, and he is in love with you. Though you haven't said it, I am sure you're in love with him, too. All I am saying is just think about it."

"I know Michael is a wonderful man, and I know he loves me to a point. But Allyn, he won't allow himself to completely trust me. Yet he asks exactly that from me. Maybe I am crazy, but there are parts of himself he has closed off, and I just can't ignore them anymore. I have to wait until he comes to me, then I'll know he is ready to trust me. I'm glad you two talked, though. One thing I realized the last couple of weeks is that you and I don't have a lot of friends. Plenty of acquaintances, but few true friends. Maybe that's why I asked La Reine to come stay with us for a while. I think she would be a good fit at the foundation, and I'll enjoy having a sort of sister for a while." Violet looked at Allyn. He seemed pale compared to a minute ago. "I should warn you, she is especially looking forward to playing tricks on you."

"I... I... oh, this is going to be bad," Allyn said under his breath.

"She is all grown up now, so I imagine she will be better behaved."

"And she'll be staying here?"

"Where else? It isn't like we don't have the room. Relax, she'll stay in my wing. You won't even see her."

Allyn highly doubted that.

##  ***

Violet should have been looking forward to this night, but between the weather forecast and the fact that Michael still had not called her, she wasn't. She had already booked a room at the Continental for after the opera. _Her_ opera to be precise. Maybe that was part of the problem. _La Traviata_ now held not just memories of her mother, but of Michael, too. She knew by the time the opera was finished she would be sobbing. But as a board member she had to go.

She dressed carefully. She wanted to look good, but she needed something to keep her from falling apart. While she was in France she had gone lingerie shopping, so she picked out some of her favorite pieces to wear tonight, including a steel-boned long corset. It made her feel like Violetta, it was so beautiful. The way it pushed her breasts high and accentuated the curve of her waist and hips would have made any courtesan proud. The satin dress was simple in design but exposed her shoulders. She took out two of her mother's pearl combs and pinned the sides and front of her hair up. Seeing herself in the mirror, she looked like a modern version of Madame X, minus the bustle. She pulled on opera length gloves and grabbed her velvet cape.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Allyn looked her up and down. "You would be even more beautiful with a smile on your face."

She laughed at him.

"Sure I can't convince you to come?"

"Not unless you're going to accompany me to the symphony."

Violet groaned. It was a long-running joke between them. Allyn liked classical music, unadulterated by words and "visuals," as he called the pageantry of opera. Violet appreciated music of all kinds, but sitting there staring at a symphony orchestra was nothing short of boring to her. The only time they relented was Mozart operas.

"Not bloody likely." Violet did her best impression of her slightly stuffy English brother.

"Brat. Enjoy yourself. You sure you'll be okay? The weather reports are all over the place, but the storm may end up being bad."

"I've booked a room right next to the opera house, so I should be able to walk there if nothing else. I'll be fine."

***

# The Opera

Traffic, of course, was awful. Everyone was trying to get where they wanted to be when the storm hit. She left the driver at the corner and walked the rest of the block. She noticed people staring at her and thought she must look odd dressed in these clothes with the long cape pulled around her, like she belonged in another time period. The first snow flakes were starting to fall, and she felt her eyes burn with tears that threatened. It was the first snow of the season. She couldn't look at snow now without thinking of Michael. She walked faster to escape the cold and because she was late.

The overture had already started, and the lights dimmed by the time she found her seat in the box. As the music started to swell, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She missed him like she would miss blood in her veins. These weeks without him hurt like none of her physical injuries ever had. The only thing to compare was the loss of her parents, though she had survived that, too. He had to see he could trust her completely. She took a deep breath to distance herself from her emotions, at least till the opera was over. She was warm enough now that she could remove her cape as the first act started. She thought she heard a noise behind her, but before she could turn around she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Shall I tell you the story of your opera?"

"Michael..." She sighed.

"Yes, Violetta. You are the most beautiful woman of your time. Could you love a wretch like poor unworthy Alfredo?"

Violet bent her head to caress his hand with her cheek.

"Alfredo wasn't unworthy, just foolishly proud. He couldn't see how much she loved him."

"I've missed you, Violet." She could hear the pain in his voice and steeled herself against giving in.

"I've missed you too." Reaching up, she took his hand from her shoulder and held it in hers. At first Michael stayed where he was, but as Alfredo declared his love for Violetta, he moved beside her. When the lights came up for intermission, Violet released his hand. Michael leaned toward her to kiss her, but she stopped him.

"Michael, unless things have changed, please, don't. I'm just too fragile right now."

They sat in silence, absorbed in their thoughts till the house lights dimmed, and the opera continued. This time it was Michael who reached for Violet's hand and held it.

When the lights came up, Michael didn't release her hand. He wanted to tell her she meant everything to him, but the words wouldn't come. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles one by one.

"Violet, I know what you want from me, I just don't know if I can let go of the fear. I want to try. Does that count for anything? Can you give me the time to figure this out? I have been trying to work through this since you left."

Violet felt her heart swell. This incredible man, the same one who drove her to heights of ecstasy, who had taken such care of her, was afraid of losing her. She held his face in both her hands and looked deep into his eyes with all the love she felt for him.

"Michael, if you are willing to try, I promise you I will be with you at every step. I want to be with you, to hold you through the fear, whatever you need. That was all I was asking for--the chance to be there for you."

The lights dimmed at that point and the music started. Michael dragged her from her seat on to his lap. He whispered in her ear.

"I just need to hold you, I promise."

Violet could feel his warm breath on her shoulder and feel him trembling. She twisted so she could put her arms around his shoulders.

"I need to hold you, too," she whispered as she lay her head on his shoulder and they watched the last act.

As everyone left the opera, they were met with a classic Nor'easter. Snow pelted down in blinding clumps. The wind whipped from all directions. Michael looked at Violet, afraid to find that she would be panicked. Instead, he was shocked to see that she was smiling. She glanced down at him as she settled her cape on her shoulders and pulled up the hood.

"Fancy a short walk?"

"Are you mad?"

"Crazed. But you are not planning on driving in this, are you?"

"No, but..."

She stepped in front of him. "Michael, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but I have a room at the Continental, right next door. I hadn't expected company but..."

"Violet..." Then he closed his mouth and looked like he reconsidered. "Let's go."

She bent and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

# The Hotel

The storm raged outside. The windows were white in the blizzard, and the wind screamed. He closed the drapes to block out the noise and snow. Unfortunately, there were no drapes that he could draw around the storm raging between his heart and his mind. He wanted her beyond reason or hope, but he had nothing to give her. This was a woman on fire, and all he could offer was quiet devotion.

Once inside, they stared at each other with chattering teeth. She shook snow out of her hair and then took down what was still pinned up. With that dress and her hair up at the opera, she had looked regal, unattainable. Now with her shoes kicked off and her hair down, she looked sensual and tempting. He fought to look away and lost.

She walked toward him with a half-smile. "I'm going to need your help getting out of this dress or I'll never get warm."

She turned her back when she reached him and knelt down in front of him. The white satin of the neckline highlighted her creamy white skin. She bent forward pulling her hair to the side to reveal dozens of small buttons along her spine. As Michael's fingertips grazed the small points of her vertebra between her shoulders, she gasped. "Sorry, my fingers are still cold," he choked out. Though to him her skin felt like fire. He undid the first dozen or so, slowly trying to master the inner storm he felt.

She stood up, and the dress dropped further down her shoulders. She was holding it up between her breasts, but in falling it had revealed the top edge of her lingerie. He found the effect mesmerizing. His mind screamed. Everything in his senses told him to make love to this woman _here and now_. Yet he still delayed. A woman this passionate needed a complete man, something he wished he could be. But she wanted him, maybe he needed to just trust in her faith in him.

Violet walked toward the closet and stepped out of her dress. She heard his gasp and smiled to herself. Good. It was working, she thought. She retrieved her dress and hung it on a hanger as best she could. She walked toward the heater, keeping the dress between her and Michael. She needed an image to steel her will. She had never outright seduced a man before, and she suspected Michael would be a challenge to even the most practiced courtesan from any opera. That was it! Not a courtesan, something ethereal, sensual, his own Lady Godiva!

She closed her eyes for a second to fix the image of the noble temptress in her mind and dropped the dress on the chair. She turned to face him in her lingerie. The corset was black lace with flat braid along the edges and boning. It was a simple style that came down to her hips and ended in several tiers of lace. The garters were attached to plain sheer black stockings. She had thought when she was dressing that perhaps everything was too plain, but no, the effect was more elegant. She shook her hair out, and it fell like a cape around her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and parted her lips slightly letting the thought of the brave noblewoman settle over her. When she opened her eyes again, she had to fight to keep from laughing at the look on Michael's face. The very debonair, detached, erudite Dr. Michael Dennison was staring with his mouth open. She let her eyes flutter closed, remembering the wonders of that mouth. Then she started toward him.

"Now, to get you out of your wet clothes."

"Don't. I..."

"Don't be silly. You'll catch pneumonia sitting there soaked, and we are going to be here a while."

"You don't catch pneumonia like... oh, hell." And he started to remove his tie. Violet smiled, whatever else happened tonight, she had won at least this small victory. She took each piece and placed them near the heater to dry out. He stopped when he was bare chested but still had his pants. He had removed each piece slowly in his reluctance to disrobe, which only added to Violet's anticipation. By the time he had removed his tuxedo shirt, she thought she might melt on the spot.

She racked her brain for what to do next. She was shivering from either the cold or anticipation. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up. He was still staring at her like she might evaporate at any minute. She walked back across to the closet and pulled the two thick robes out. "Did you want one?" She was trying to be nonchalant, but even she could hear an edge to her voice that had never been there before. Would Michael hear the desire in her voice and close himself off again? She steeled herself to calm down. She took a deep breath that swelled her breasts at the top of the corset. Again the good doctor's mouth dropped open.

"Yes, please," he managed to choke out. She slipped into one, leaving it untied and open, and brought him the other. She held it open for him to slip his arm in and then brought it around to the other side. She couldn't miss the opportunity to let her eyes rake over his back. Once he was cocooned in the plush terry cloth, he looked less miserable.

She moved to the bed, trying to distract herself from the way he was looking at her. She knew if she threw herself at him they would be right back to where they left off. He had to decide he wanted this. She sat down on the end of the bed letting the robe fall open to either side of her. She had always prided herself on being a good conversationalist, but at the moment her throat had gone dry, and her brain refused to form words. Thankfully, he had followed her over to where she sat.

His hand seemed to be reaching out to her of its own volition. His only thought to stroke her cheek and maybe her hair. Sitting there, she looked so vulnerable and alluring. He was almost touching her when he realized what he was doing. She had seen his hand extended and had already started to move toward it, pushing forward her breasts and inclining her face to match the curve of his hand. At his touch, she sighed and closed her eyes.

The curve of her cheek fit his palm perfectly. He was lost. Heat swept through him, want overtaking the fear. His mind churned with sensation and desire. The touch, her sigh, were not enough to extinguish these. He slipped his hand past her cheek, into her hair, pulling her closer. Just one more kiss, one more taste of what other men took for granted. His other hand went around her waist, caressing the lace and boning of the corset. Still, it was not enough. He needed to taste her mouth, her teeth, feel her tongue search for his.

He pulled her onto his lap. Her eyes went wide. She did not pull away but melted against him. His mouth crushed hers. Too much, he thought. He gentled his kiss and felt her body warm to his. He sucked at her lips like a starved man. The hand around her waist was now caressing her throat. When she moaned, he explored her with his tongue. His desire had only increased. His hand moved from her throat to her breast. Reaching into her corset, he cupped her breast. He felt the nipple harden at his touch. As it did, he bent to kiss the sensitive rosy bud. She lay her head back in a full throated moan, pushing it deeper into his mouth, exposing the length of her milky throat. He suckled the nipple and then explored the milky white mound. Her breathing was ragged. That she wanted him was obvious, but she had made it clear that she would accept nothing less than all of him.

With an audible growl and his mind screaming, he put his hands around her waist and pushed her off his lap and back onto the bed. Both of them were gasping for air. She looked at him though heavy-lidded eyes. He knew he should grab his things and leave, but seeing her so filled with desire pinned him to the spot.

Her need for him was too great to listen to reason. Her mind was screaming, Make him come to you! But she didn't have the will to obey. She threw her arms around him, kissing and nibbling his jaw, ears and neck. She knelt on the floor, reaching up to stoke his chest and twirl her fingers in the soft curls. Eventually she looked into his eyes. For a long time, Violet stared deep into their glittering sapphire brilliance, willing him to let go of his fear and drop his resistance. When she felt she had at least communicated that, she started to undress him.

"No," he cried out in anguish.

"Why?" she pleaded in a voice that reminded Michael of those horrible days after the surgery. She sounded in agony. "I want you," she said, trying to slow her breathing. "And I know you want me!" she nearly screamed.

He could not deny she was right but--

She cut off his thoughts. "Just lie with me. Let me make love to you."

"But that's just it. I don't know if I _can_ make love to you!" Now he was nearly shouting, in part in anguish, in part to still the blood pounding in his head.

"You are a passionate, sensual, intelligent man. Michael, I don't expect a perfect lover. I want you, all of you. I realize there are things we may not be able to do, but to deny yourself the chance? I can only assume you don't really want me." She stood to get dressed and leave.

In that second, Michael saw a yawning eternity before him. An eternity where he was alive but bereft, cut off from all joy in the world. "Nooooo," he yelled in a choked sob. He threw his arms around her waist. She curled herself over the top of him, sheltering him in her hair.

"Thank God. I wouldn't have had the strength to do it," she whispered. He turned to her and saw her fighting back tears. He kissed every one and then scooped her into his lap, kissing her some more. He kept kissing till she was laughing, and then he slid her back onto the bed. Her robe had fallen off around her. There she sat as he looked at her. Her mantle of hair streaming down. Her liquid brown eyes still bright with tears but smiling now. Her full lips in a half smile taunting him to capture them with his own. She was flushed with want, want for him, how could he deny this to her? Or to himself?

"I guess I should tell you. I've been experimenting with some of the ED meds. They are supposed to help," he said as he idly ran his finger under one of the garters. With his other hand he reached under the lace tiers of the corset to caress the curve of her hip. Her breathing became shallow and quick. He looked into her eyes and said "Lie back. I want to undress you."

She looked at him like he was a satyr come to ravish her, and it took all his willpower not to believe it himself. She lay down on the edge of the bed. He unsnapped one of the garters and saw her jump with excitement. With each pop, he could feel the heat of her increase. Slowly he rolled first one stocking, then the other off. Her lids became heavy, and she moaned softly. The sound of it drove him on. He slid both hands under the corset finding the lace of her panties. She gasped but smiled and lifted her hips as he slowly pulled them down. He kissed her thighs, then her knees, then her delicate ankles.

She started to undo the hooks in the corset. "No," he said softly. "Better to do it slowly." She stopped and started again much more slowly, teasing him with each one. His chest ached, his stomach clenched with the desire to see her enthralled. Finally the corset fell away from her hands.. She was almost too beautiful to touch. Almost, but kissing the hollow of her breasts would be appropriately worshipful. He buried himself in her chest, felt it heave as she almost sobbed with release. She twisted his hair in her fingers, kissing his hair and ears.

Finally she whispered, "Lie with me. I need to feel your body against mine."

It had been so long that he had fought against his passion for this woman. Something as simple as this felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You stay there. Close your eyes." And he gave her a kiss on each eyelid. "I'll tell you when you can open them."

He quickly went to the other side of the bed. He divested himself of the rest of his clothes and transferred himself to the bed. He slid in behind her, and she gave a little squeal when they touched. Their bodies fit together like halves of a whole. He had forgotten how perfect this felt. He brushed her hair from her neck and started kissing and nibbling her neck and shoulders. She melted in his arms. He slid his lower arm under her neck to cradle her against him. The other slid down her soft, smooth stomach. When he reached her pubic hair, he twirled the curls around his fingers. She gave a start and then sighed more deeply against him. He guided her top leg over his, and then rolled back slightly opening her legs. She understood his intent and parted her legs more. Again his hand started its decent. This time he did not stop at her mons but slipped his fingers inside her. He felt her breath catch in her throat. Then he heard a hum deep in her chest against his. My god, she was purring. He smiled while continuing to kiss her.

Michael kept exploring her till she started to moan. She was so silky, so wet, his mouth watered to taste her clit on the end of his tongue. Not yet, he thought, first he wanted to feel her body catch fire against his, feel her heart rate rise, hear her pant with longing and scream with release. She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair. Her touch made him ache. Violet took his trapped hand and began nibbling and sucking on the fingers. Now, it was Michael's turn to moan.

Yes, I want him to enjoy this, Violet thought. After so many months of hoping, and now finally lying here with him. She shifted her hips slightly and gasped. "Oh, yes. There." The words were out of her mouth before she could think. He obliged, and she felt her clit harden like stone. He must have felt it, too, as he teased her. Her mind went numb to thought. There was only sensation, the flutter of kisses on her neck, the salty taste of his fingers in her mouth, a thrumming at her back, the building tension in her core. She felt it first as a tickle at the back of her brain, within seconds she was gripped with wave after wave of sensation, not only where Michael continued to touch her, stroking at that most sensitive part, but her mind also wheeled. She felt her hips crush against his hand. She bit down on his thumb in her mouth. Felt him bite gently into her shoulder. Heard herself loose a strangled cry. Then she was left panting. Michael's arms came up around her pinning her hard against his chest.

"Did I hurt you? It all happened so fast. I didn't mean to bite down on your thumb. I've missed your touch."

"Mmm, no, you didn't hurt me. Just a love bite."

"When you were touching me, I felt something against my back that had a mind of its own and a definite pulse." She was smiling wickedly now.

"Michael, I will make love to you tonight." She was grinning from ear to ear. With that, she pushed him to his back and pinned him to the bed. Her hands were splayed on his shoulders, his hips secure under hers, her thighs clasping them, she had her feet behind her tucked between his thighs.

He still didn't think it would work, but seeing her astride him looking so happy and delicious, he almost didn't care that there might be no release. She was so warm, and the weight of her felt so good. And...what was she doing with her hips? This was breathtaking. She had a beguiling smile on her face as she continued with her hip twirling. He couldn't speak, but he didn't think she expected conversation. She leaned forward now, and her hair cascaded over him. He raised his arms over his head to get lost in it. She continued the twirling motion of her hips. She teased him with her nipples just out of reach of his mouth. He did feel odd down there. She was sitting directly over him now with one hand stroking his belly. It was all so luxurious, he lay back and closed his eyes. Oh God, what was she doing? His mind reeled, and his eyes flew open. The sensation was not painful but startling after nothing for so long.

She had done her homework, which made her smile thinking about it. No one could make any promises, but with what she had read, using repeated stimulation, engaging his mind, the ED drugs, all should mean he would at least have a chance. Maybe it didn't matter. He was enjoying how she felt and looked on top of him. He was startled when she stopped and got off him. But that was nothing compared to his surprise following her gaze at his penis. Holy hell! His mind whirled.

"I believe I was correct then, Doctor." She was laughing at him while she slid her fingers up and down the still wet shaft. "Well, what do you want to do with it now?"

"I'd like you back up where you were.." he growled. "I'd like to make love to you--you my own brave, beautiful Lady Godiva."

Even in the half light she could see his eyes shining. She did as he asked. He reached his arms out and massaged her breasts pulling her down and forward so he could bathe the nipples with his tongue. She used her feet to spread his legs and then, arching her back, reached behind her and found his perineum and began stroking it. She saw his eyes roll back in his head. That was accompanied by a low throaty moan. She could feel him stiffen inside her. She loved what she was doing to him and what he was doing to her. Then suddenly her breath caught in her throat. She could feel herself tense, get tight, and then close on him again and again. Oh God, that was what was missing. He felt so good inside her. She fought to remain upright. She heard him keen, and then she collapsed on top of him. He pulled her in close, both of them panting.

She had hurt him, she knew it. This wasn't a nip on the finger. She was sure she had wounded him. Why else would he scream like that? She steeled herself to look up into his face. He looked in shock. "Oh, Michael, I love you so much. I'm sorry," she whispered.

He snapped out of his reverie. He turned them both over so that now she was pinned under him with her legs wrapped around his hips.

"Sorry! You're sorry? You've raised the dead and you're sorry?"

She was so confused. "I heard you scream, I... thought I hurt you when I..." Now she blushed. He laughed deeply, till tears formed in his eyes. Then kissed her till she was laughing too.

"Violet, I know this will sound ridiculous considering everything I have done with and to you but--damn this is embarrassing. I... I had never done that before. He looked to the side so she couldn't see his face. She reached over and turned his face to hers.

"Michael, are you saying what I think you are saying?" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Violet, if you start laughing I swear..."

"I only laugh at you when you're being an ass, remember? No, I want to scream to the world. How long do those pills last? No, I don't care. So, all that and no ill effects, right? I mean, other than the scream, which I'll chalk up to not knowing exactly what it was all going to feel like." She was so excited she was talking a mile a minute.

Then she licked her lips.

"Darling, we have an awful lot of catching up to do. Can you stand me to touch you yet?"

"You can always touch me."

"You may regret saying that."

# Epilogue

"How are the wedding plans going, darling?"

"Aaaghhh!"

"That well." Michael started laughing.

"Oh, you have no idea. You get to just glide in and.... Are you laughing at me?"

"Never, dear. Maybe you're just feeling more emotional than usual."

"What is that supposed to mean? Why do you have that smirk on your face? Oh, has Cam agreed to be your best man?"

"Yes. You know we could just go get married at City Hall. Avoid all the bother."

"And wouldn't you be surprised if I said yes!"

"We may want to move the wedding up, dear."

"What? I don't know how I'm going to get everything done as it is."

"Well, it will be your first, so you shouldn't show too much."

"Wait. What? My first...wedding? It will be my only damn wedding, I can tell you."

"No, dear, um, in all the excitement you haven't forgotten something? Something that shows up fairly regularly, monthly to be exact."

"Michael, I am up to my ears in plans. The invasion of Normandy was less work. What are you talking about?"

"Violet, dear, you are pregnant. At least I suspect so."

"I'm what?"

"With child. My child. Hence, the ridiculous grin I can't get rid of. Um, that first night, we were rather focused on other things. We never really considered protection. I especially should have known better, but..."

"That can't be right. I got my period, didn't I? Oh! Oh, Michael!"

"Violet, is it so awful?"

"No, just a shock. I'm scared."

"I promise to be with you every step of the way. So, Violet, can we just elope? Tell a few friends, be done with the formalities. I want to spend every minute I can with my wife and child. God, in a million years I never thought I'd say that."

Violet let the papers she was holding fall to the floor. Walking over to Michael, she sat on his lap. "I want that, too. I suppose this means I am not your kitten anymore?"

"You will always be my kitten. Quite frankly, I think that when you are nine months pregnant I will still want you to walk around naked, if for no other reason than I find you breathtaking. Though for the sake of the children, things would have to get a little tamer."

"Children?"

"Oh, yes. A village to fill this huge house of yours, my Lady Godiva."

***
Writing a story with a paralyzed romance hero may seem odd but I have no doubt that they are out there. I tried to be sensitive to the actualities of what may or may not be possible for a man with that level of impairment. Every spinal injury patient is different and I drew inspiration from many factual sources. If you or a loved one has a spinal cord injury I recommend the following sites for more information.

http://www.spinalcord.uab.edu/show.asp?durki=21720

http://www.christopherreeve.org/

http://www.nationalmssociety.org

***

Making up my goals for 2014 I thought long and hard about what I wanted to do besides lose weight and get in better shape. A book marketer that I spoke with talked about marketing as being "relentlessly helpful". That phrase kept rolling around in my head, but what could I, as a fiction writer really do for my readers? Then I thought about all the small wins, the silly little things that don't get celebrated in our lives. Okay, so I had just lost some weight but still had more to lose but I wanted to celebrate but it felt silly to crow about something when it was just a piece of something bigger. That is when it hit me! I may have not made the cheer squad in high school but I could start my own now! So here is the deal, Got something you want a pat on the back for, something that you want to scream from the roof tops? I'll blast it out on my blog and facebook page. Maybe you don't need that kind of notoriety? So I can send you an encouraging email with a little digital present. You name it! You can find me at my website: www.lcgiroux.com
Other books by L.C. Giroux

Fall Into His Arms ****

More Lovers and Other Strangers Series Books

Pay Back ****

His Deception ****

Lovers and Other Strangers Boxed Set: ****

The Boston Stories (Digital Only) ****

Second Chance at Salvation ****

All In ****

Where's My Cowboy? ****

Skater's Girl ****

...And Keep Her ****

Series Short Stories:

Wild Child (only available in the Boston Boxed Set or the WG2E Summer Fling Anthology)

The Day Before the Night Before Christmas ****

Cupid Must Be Irish ****

***

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the the publisher.

This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

His Lady Godiva

L.C. Giroux

Copyright L.C. Giroux 2011

License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people except under the lending programs authorized by some e-tailers. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

***
