Drake Restrained(30)

Jenna is sweet, but maybe a bit too easy for me. Keep searching. I’ll send her a nice email wishing her luck.



Lara texted right back.



I’ll check and see if there’s anyone else.



I smiled at that, and texted her back.



Good night, Matchmaker. We’ll talk later.





CHAPTER EIGHT





I saw Katherine again sooner than I imagined.

Dave texted me Sunday night to say that she was meeting him at a café close to the foundation later on Monday afternoon to do the interview.

“I can do it if you’re too busy,” he said on the phone. “I know this is short notice so don’t feel pressured to come by.”

“I’ll be there,” I said, not willing to let Dave do the interview alone. “I have surgery scheduled at one but should have everything wrapped up by three.”

“I’ll do the interview if you’re late so don’t sweat it.”

“Wait for me,” I said. “She should really talk to me, since it’s my foundation.”

“You are smitten, Drake,” Dave said, laughing over the phone line.

“You behave,” I said and smiled in spite of myself. I hung up, a little jolt in my gut at the prospects of seeing Katherine again. I’d invite her out for lunch or a drink so I could elaborate on my foundation’s work but, of course, it was really so that I could try to work my charm on her.

If she responded even slightly, I'd go all out.

No holds barred.



I was eager to get through my cases that morning and hoped everything would go well with my first surgery after lunch, but we ran into some technical problems with the equipment in the OR and were delayed about twenty minutes. I had little time so I didn’t change out of my scrubs into my street clothes and even then, didn’t make it over to the café for the interview until a few minutes after 3:30. Katherine was there with Dave and as I approached the table, the two were shaking hands. Perhaps they just arrived and I wasn't late at all. I laid a hand on Dave's shoulder and smiled at Katherine.

"There you are," I said. "I was wondering if I'd make it down in time."

"We just finished," Katherine said and shrugged, smiling guiltily.

"I told Mr. Mills that I'd be right over and he was supposed to wait and let me do the interview." I made a face at Dave and then turned to Katherine and caught her eye. "Stay behind for a moment so we can speak alone."

She glanced at Dave as if surprised. Dave must have arrived early so he could do the interview himself.

Dave turned to her. "I didn't want you to waste your time in case Drake wasn't able to get away from the hospital. Sometimes his surgeries take longer than planned. Nice talking to you again, Kate. Good interview."

Dave left the café, and I was finally alone with her. I sat beside her, my arm on the back of her chair, and just looked at her, drinking in every detail of her appearance.

Once more I note her fair skin, her green eyes, soft pink lips, and her silky golden brown hair.

"Well," she said after a moment, her cheeks pink. "I'm here. What did you want to talk about?"

Her expression of bemused patience brought me back to the moment.

"How's your ankle? Your knees?" I checked her legs, which were covered by tights under a short jean skirt.

"Almost all better."

"Good."

She smiled at me but I was in no rush, enjoying how her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I couldn’t help imagining her with a sexual flush instead.

"So? You wanted to speak with me?"

"I wanted to offer you the chance to ask me anything now that I'm here," I said and leaned in closer. I caught a whiff of her perfume and once again was struck by how desirable she smelled. Fresh and warm, making me want to curl my body around hers, my face in her neck.

"I think I got everything I need from Mr. Mills."

"You don't want to hear my side of things? Considering it's my father's foundation…"

She hesitated as if considering. She could walk out if she wanted – there was no reason for her to humor me. Instead, she decided to continue and that gave me a small bit of hope.

"I do have a few questions, more about motivation." She took out an iPhone and started the recording. "Can you tell me why he started this foundation?"

I moved my chair a bit closer, and leaned in, wanting to observe how she responded to my nearness. As I expected, she flushed once more, her cheeks pink.

"He was a socialist, committed to eradicating poverty,” I said, remembering my father with fondness, despite his neglect. “He didn't expect to become rich and so when he did, he poured almost every extra cent into helping hospitals in third world countries, especially Africa. He said something about unequal development and capitalist exploitation – you'd know more about that than me." Dave told me she was a bit of a socialist, so I decided to check and see if he was right.