"Maybe..." I smiled, while dreaming of seeing Alex naked in bed with her cast on

"You might be surprised," she said with a sly grin. Again this sexy doctor 
touched my toes at the end of the cast. Her fingernails sent waves through my 
body



Part 2

"Do you have anybody helping you at home with your broken leg Dana?"

"No I'm alone" Another lie, I was getting good at this

"I'm not with anybody, woman, man or beast. Not even a cat. And what about you 
Doctor? Sorry Alex are you married?"

"Not right now, we're divorce. And no girlfriend either, if you care to know."

"OK," I laughed. 

We talked about other things. When she excused herself for a minute I was amazed 
to look at my watch and to find that we'd been talking for over two hours.

"I've got to go," I said when she came back.

"All right. Would you like to meet again some time? I really enjoyed myself this 
afternoon."

"Me too. Yes, let's meet again."

"Would you like to come to my place for dinner tomorrow night?" she said 
      
I looked into her eyes. She looked back into mine and said nothing.

"Yes," I answered after a long silence, and wondered how it was that I could 
sound and look so calm when inside me a tropical storm was brewing up. "I'd love 
to."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Seven thirty the next evening, there I was on my crutches, my cast inches from 
the floor, ringing on the bell of the ground floor flat of a small terraced 
house in a long terraced street, stomach churning at the thought of what might 
happen, equal measures of curiosity, excitement and sheer terror with a good 
dash of lingering moral doubt thrown in just for flavour. I was in a right 
state.

"Sorry to keep you standing like this on your crutches with that broken leg of 
yours, I was on the phone," Alex said when she finally opened the door after I'd 
rung three times. 

"Come on in and give me your coat. The living room's through there. I'll be with 
you in a tick."

The tick lasted five minutes. I spent it crutching round looking at the pictures 
and the things on the shelves. It felt like a room I could be comfortable in. I 
was still looking when she came in.

"Just sorting out the dinner," she explained. 

"Do you want a drink or would you like the guided tour?"

I took the tour. It didn't last long, just the living room, kitchen, bathroom 
and one bedroom, everything designed very much for solitary occupation, although 
I did notice that she had a double bed.

"Something smells good," I said when we went into the kitchen.

"Well, it's either the chicken or me."

"Does the chicken wear Chanel?" I asked.

She looked at me from my cast to my face over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow 
and gave me one of her slow mysterious smiles. Hidden meanings and doubles 
entendres like that were something we both enjoyed and used a lot.

"The food won't be ready for a while," she said, "so let's have a drink in the 
living room while we wait."

She took our glasses of sherry, her on the sofa, me in an armchair and helped me 
raised my long cast to a foot rest.

"You're looking good," she said.

"So are you," I replied. She was, too. Simply but stylishly dressed in a black 
cashmere V-neck sweater and figure-hugging black trousers, barefooted, and no 
visible make-up to speak of apart from a hint of eyeshadow, she sat there on the 
sofa with her legs folded underneath her. 
      
I was glad she hadn't dressed up for the occasion, because I hadn't. I just had 
on a pair of jeans, the only pair that I custom with a full slit on the side for 
my cast, and a navy blue sweater.

We sat, we drank our sherry, we went and ate our dinner at the little table in 
the kitchen (chicken in a herb sauce with rice and salad, if you're interested, 
and very nice too) and we had some wine with that, then she gave me back my 
crutches and we went back to the living room and listened to some music and 
drank a bit more wine, but mostly we did what we usually did, talked a lot and 
laughed a lot as we did so.

That's not to say that there weren't, er, overtones during the evening. There 
was lots of meaningful eye contact held for just a split second too long, lots 
of look to my broken leg followed by casual brushes of my cast with her hand.

Just like in the café that first time, I was amazed when she went out of the 
room for something and I looked at my watch. It was past midnight. I'd had no 
idea it was anything like that late.

"It's late," I said when she came back in.

"Mmm, I know. What do you want to do?"

"I suppose I'd better call for a taxi"

"Why not stay?"

"Stay?"

"Yes, stay. Here. Rest that leg of yours. It's Saturday tomorrow. Neither of us 
has to be anywhere, do we? We can lie in, have breakfast, and then, well, 
whatever you like."

"Yes, but I haven't got anything to sleep in."

"That never bothers me and I would love to see more of that cast, but if you 
need something, it's no problem, I can lend you something. There's not such a 
huge difference in size between us, is there?"

"Right then, I'll stay," I said.

We stayed up about another half an hour, the conversation becoming more and more 
intermittent as time went on and then finally stopping altogether. Both of us 
could feel perfectly clearly that there was something in the air, something 
impending, but for what seemed like an age it was as if neither of us really 
knew how to break the spell of the moment.

"So why don't you come into the bedroom and pick yourself something to sleep 
in?" Alex said in the end. 

Part 3