“I know, I know,” Maureen said, raising her eyebrows. “Poor little rich boy. I know the story better than anyone. I actually met Liam and he was a sweetheart. Charities in Africa, donating his time and skills. I don’t know how the hell he produced someone like Drake.”
“What do you mean, someone like Drake?” My blood was boiling at that point. “Someone like Drake saved Liam’s life. Someone like Drake is so good, he didn’t want to impose on you and Chris and be involved in his own son’s life even though he saved it.”
“That’s because he knows he could never be a real father.”
I felt tears spring to my eyes, my heart pounding from anger. “You’re wrong.”
Then I turned and left, unwilling to speak to her for another moment. I walked down the hallway, trying to get a grip on my emotions, as I was meeting Drake in a few minutes and didn’t want him to see that I’d been crying. I popped into one of the public washrooms and held a wet paper towel to my eyes, trying to stop the tears.
Finally under some kind of self-control once more, I left the washroom and made my way through the hospital to the wing with Drake’s office. I popped my head into his office and saw he was busy flipping through papers in a file.
“Am I too early?”
He glanced up, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. “Never. Come in. I’m just putting some lab results back into files. We can go right away.”
I came in and watched the screen, which showed some OR technicians cleaning up after a surgery. “Was that your OR?”
He glanced up. “No,” he said. “I was just watching while I was reading over files.” Then he looked at me, frowning. “Are you all right? Your nose and eyes are red…”
“Allergy attack. Something must have bothered me. I think I sneezed ten times on the way over.”
If Drake doubted my fabricated explanation, he didn’t show it, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I wanted to keep the photo secret until Christmas Day, when I’d give him the photo under our Christmas tree.
“Let’s go,” he said and closed the file before coming to my side. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I melted into his embrace. Of course, being in his arms like that brought out my emotions and my silly tears started again. I tried to cover my eyes and turn my head away, but he noticed and pulled back, frowning.
“Hey, hey,” he said and took my face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me it’s allergies.”
I half laughed and half-sobbed, coming up with something on the fly. “I was just thinking of poor little Liam and my emotions got the better of me. Plus, I’m a bit PMS…”
His face softened and he pulled me close once more, his face in the crook of my neck, his lips pressed there in a gentle kiss.
“Sweet, sweet Kate…”
He held me for a moment and then pulled back again, wiping the tears off my cheeks with his fingers. “I’ve been talking to Liam’s doctors and nurses, and he’s going to be fine. He’ll be staying for a couple more days and then will be discharged home.”
“That’s a relief,” I said, hoping that Drake bought my story about being sad for Liam, when I was actually sad for him.
Drake leaned down and kissed me, the kiss tender. “You are an angel.”
“Hardly,” I said, immediately feeling guilty that I’d lied to him about why I was crying. I’d confess when I gave him the picture.
“You are,” he said and pulled me into a quick hug. “Now let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starved. You need a margarita to improve your mood. How does that sound?”
I forced a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
In the middle of the night, Drake turned on the bedside light and snuggled closer to me.
“Kate?” he whispered, kissing my shoulder. “Are you awake?”
I yawned and rolled over to face him. “I am now. What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?”
He pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on the top of my head. “Something like that. I woke up and can’t stop my mind from working.”
Usually, that mean
t he wanted to make love, but I felt no erection pressing into my belly. I ran my hand up his back. Maybe he was still upset about Liam and wanted to vent. We’d had a very enjoyable meal at our favorite restaurant and opened a bottle of wine when we got home, talking in quiet voices about Drake’s childhood before Louise left. He had some happy memories but they were few, for it was obvious that she couldn’t adjust to the loss of her first son.
Drake had been in a very thoughtful mood that night and I thought he’d want to make love but he hadn’t.