Royally Claimed by Marie Donovan Page A

busied herself looking for the antiseptic wash and tweezers. “We can usually fix them up.”
    â€œUsually,” he echoed.
    â€œNot all the time,” she allowed, standing up. “There’s better light in the kitchen.”
    He realized she was trying to change the subjectand followed her obediently for once. At the kitchen sink, she made quick work of the splinter and washed and bandaged the small wound. “You’ve had a tetanus booster in the past ten years?”
    He nodded. “I cut myself on some rusty barbed wire a few years ago and got one then.” He rubbed his upper arm. “It made my arm hurt for three days.”
    â€œThen you should be all set.” She let go of his hand but he stood there expectantly. “What?”
    â€œAren’t you going to kiss it to make it better?”
    â€œFrank…” She started to blush.
    â€œIt really hurts.” He put on a pained look.
    She doubted it. The antibiotic ointment had a small amount of numbing ingredients in it. “I don’t kiss my patients.”
    He came closer and she backed up until she was practically sitting in the sink. But this time, she didn’t feel panicked or closed in. After all, it was just Frank. “I’ve been very patient with you, Julia, but I’m not one of your patients.”
    â€œYou’re rather impatient, Frank.” Just as she said that, their hips touched and she realized how impatient he was. His erection was obvious, even through his jeans, fitting perfectly into the cradle of her hips.
    Her eyes widened and he nodded ruefully. “We’ve waited long enough, Julia. Won’t you kiss me and make it all better?”
    â€œJust your hand,” she emphasized.
    â€œFor now.” He rotated slightly, rubbing against her. She exhaled shakily. To feel all of that inside her…her fantasy from upstairs came roaring back and her nipples tightened against her thin bra.
    But all he was asking for was a little kiss. On hishand, even. She took his wrist and placed a kiss near his bandage.
    â€œAnd here.” He wiggled his fingertips.
    â€œWhat? You’re not hurt there.”
    â€œThe pain is radiating outward.”
    She went along with him and kissed each fingertip, his skin catching a bit on the tender inner skin of her lips. He watched her eagerly, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost black.
    She nipped at his index finger and giving into the desire she’d tried to suppress all day, sucked it into her mouth. He groaned in shock and lust. “Julia…”
    She swirled her tongue around his finger, the thick skin scraping along her nerve endings. She imagined doing the same thing to his erection that pressed between them.
    He yanked his hand free and pulled her close. Just then, a huge clap of thunder startled them apart and a repetitive thumping noise came from outside. He bit out a Portuguese oath and craned his head toward the kitchen door. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He bent down and gave her a fierce, fast kiss before tossing on a rain slicker.
    She clutched the countertop, her heart pounding. What had possessed her to be so bold? She hadn’t made up her mind to make love with Frank—had she?
    Julia slumped onto a stool. Maybe she had. She’d seen the clouds coming from the west, had seen the waves starting to rise as they’d boated to Frank’s island. Her psychology class wasn’t much more than a distant memory, but even she could remember the pesky subconscious part of the mind that knew a person’s hiddenwishes and cheerfully shoved her along toward attaining them.
    Stupid Freud. Stupid subconscious. She’d known the weather would likely go bad and she’d be stranded on the island in the middle of a storm.
    How very gothic of her. All she had to do was run screaming into the night with the Duke of Aguas Santas chasing her and they’d be reenacting