The Drake Unwound Complete Collection (The Drake Series Book 9)(30)

"And?"

"I claim the Fifth," I said, for I didn’t want to insult her, but I was more of a thriller reader. "Romance isn't my thing. But I will say I have several things in common with the hero."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters," I said and put down my coffee cup before pulling her into my arms once more. "One very inquisitive sub who asks a lot of questions and who makes him lose control of scenes because of her impertinence..."

"Impertinence," she said and kissed my shoulder.

"But I'm an old man compared to him, and not a self-made boy genius billionaire so you must be disappointed."

"Oh, terribly," she said and kissed me, but I knew she was joking. We kissed once more, unable to get enough of each other. My body responded to the feel of her warmth against me, her breasts pressing against my chest, the soft swell of her buttocks under my hands. I stroked up her back under her baggy t-shirt and only then did I realize that she wasn’t naked as I demanded.

"What's with the shirt? I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to always be naked when we were alone here."

She laughed. "In case you didn't notice, what with your incredible hotness and all, it's cold in your apartment. But you'll keep me warm," she said and pulled me against her firmly, grinding herself against my semi-erect cock.

"You'll make me late if you keep that up," I said playfully.

"That's the idea…"

"If I had time, I'd say yes," I said. "Making you all hot and bothered is my greatest desire, but I can't this morning."

"How long will you be?"

I rocked her in my arms for a moment, trying to think about what I still had on my business agenda. "It should take about an hour. Then I have to go to the Foundation and do some paperwork, and then I have to drop in at the business office to sign some papers. If the meeting this morning doesn't take too long, I should be back for dinner. Then I want us to meet back here." She was still standing in the kitchen as I got my coat and boots and left the apartment.



I drove to the hospital and parked in my usual spot, although I’d soon lose it when my contract expired. I walked to the medical offices wing and went in to see Jim Kerrigan, Liam’s oncologist. A portly man with a shock of white hair and southern charm, Kerrigan stood up and shook my hand when his receptionist escorted me into his office.


We sat down and discussed Liam’s case, how he had gone through every chemo protocol and after an initial response, had come out of remission due to a particularly aggressive form of leukemia.

“Bone marrow transplantation is his last hope at this point. We’re really hoping you’re a match, but if not, we can still look at our national databases. Liam’s young and very sick and so he’ll be on the priority list.”

I nodded, a sick feeling in my gut at the prospect I wouldn’t be a match, for I knew how hard it was to find tissue matches in time, especially with such an aggressive form of leukemia.

I shook Jim’s hand once more and then went to the lab where my blood samples would be taken in preparation for the test. I went back to my office once the technician was finished and got a fresh coffee. Then I sat down and sorted through my contacts in the hospital to call in some markers and get the test done as quickly as possible. Finally, I found a tech with whom I had a good relationship and offered to pay him to stay after hours to run the tests.

He agreed and I relaxed a bit. If it was going to be bad news, I wanted it fast.



Once I finished a last check on my remaining patients for the day, I headed to the Foundation. As I drove down the streets of Manhattan, I wondered if I’d be able to go to Nairobi after all. If Liam was going to die, I couldn’t imagine leaving and not being around for the funeral. It was a terrible position to be in—to only recently discover I was a father to a dying son, and I might only see him a few times before watching as he was lowered into the ground.

In my career as a surgeon, I’d seen a lot of death. Losing patients was hard, but you had to mourn briefly and then shut it off. How could I shut off the loss of a son?

Even if I never had a relationship with him, knowing he was alive and then dead all too soon was something I just couldn’t turn off the way I could with my own patients.

I was once again so glad that I had Kate. What would I do without her? How would I get through this?

I pushed that thought out of my mind, for it was far too unpleasant to even consider.



After going over some paperwork at the Foundation, Dave Mills and I had lunch at one of our favorite delis a few blocks away from the office.

We sat at the table in the window, and dove into heaping piles of pastrami on rye.

“So, you’re taking Kate with you? That’s a shock. I never see you with women. What happened to you?”

I laughed and chewed my sandwich for a while, thinking. What did happen? Kate was different. She was… the kind of woman I had always wanted.

Intelligent, well-bred, beautiful, sensitive, submissive…

“She’s the one,” I said, but didn't want to be any more specific, considering Dave had designs on her at one point.

“She must be,” Dave said, and made a face of surprise. “You’re a lucky man, Drake. You know I had a thing for her a few years ago but she was pretty immune to my masculine attractions.”