Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 1202

Whitney froze, completely caught off guard by how serious he suddenly got.

He pulled her in, his grip unyielding, pressing her firmly against his broad chest. She knew he’d just had abdominal surgery—bandages everywhere—and she wouldn’t dare touch him. She had no choice but to brace her hands just above his collarbone, trying to keep from putting any pressure on him.

His devastatingly handsome face was right there, closer than ever, his skin carrying that clean, clinical scent of antiseptic. The heat radiating off him was unmistakable. Whitney’s small hand was trembling in his palm, and she couldn’t even imagine moving it any lower…

Her cheeks flushed bright pink as she started to realize what he was doing. She stammered, trying to push him away. “Ludwik, what are you doing? I don’t want—”

“Don’t want what? Don’t want a little touch?” Ludwik’s laugh was low and lazy, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire there.

His voice, rough and husky, sent a shiver right down her spine.

She caught a glimpse of his chest—muscular, pale, and impossibly enticing. Underneath those hospital blankets, his body looked even more powerful, the contrast making her blush even harder as the heat spread down her neck. It was like he was burning from the inside out, and she could feel that fire crawling over her skin.

They’d been on the outs for almost a year now, barely speaking, drifting apart. And now, out of nowhere, he was pulling her close, acting like nothing had changed. Whitney was both mortified and completely frozen. “Would you just shut up? You’re barely stitched together and still trying to act like a playboy. Ludwik, what is wrong with you?”

“There’s plenty wrong with me,” he replied, not the least bit offended. His voice was like velvet over sandpaper, sending tingles straight to her ears as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “That’s why I need you to check me out, isn’t it? Come on, sweetheart, just take a look. Maybe I really am cured.”

“I’m not—” Whitney was dying of embarrassment, her professional persona as a urologist nowhere to be found.

Maybe it was her imagination, but his waist felt almost fever-hot. Maybe it was just the blankets, maybe something else... Either way, she wasn’t going any further. “Didn’t Dr. Horatio go find a surgeon for you?”

“I sent him away on purpose!” Ludwik shot her an annoyed look, catching her sweaty hand in his large one. Then he grinned, teasing, “Nervous? You’ve seen it before, and seeing you all shy just makes it worse for me… God.”