Chapter 7
Damon
I can't help but grin at her shy, little question, and that only makes her blush more and cut her eyes away, squeezing her hands between her knees again. God, she's so cute. "Well ...I've got good news and bad news on that score, sweetheart, though I admit you may not think as well of me once I tell you."
"You're married?" she asks worriedly at once. I laugh and shake my head.
"No, nothing like that, I promise. The medical ethics board has a problem with doctors dating past patients and a real problem with doctors dating current patients." I hesitate suddenly. There's another reason she might not want to get close to me.
I've done my best to cut ties and leave my past in London in the past—where it belongs. But I absolutely hate lying to women. It always ends badly, but in this situation, I don't even know where to begin telling the truth or how much is safe to tell.
Well, sweetheart, my mum isn't dead and neither is Copper. The first one, I will never stop feeling horrible about, and the second is so he doesn't find me and fucking kill me. We were both raised up in the family business, you see, and the family business is larceny.
You don't abandon the family no matter what happens, even if staying in the business is killing you. But I had to go, and thanks to a total accident, I got the chance to make away clean with a small fortune. And if I tell you about how I hurt my mum and Molly by faking my death, well ...if the fact that I'm a thief and a killer doesn't drive you away, that probably will.
I don't bring it up yet. I don't want to end up pushing too much upsetting stuff on her all at once. Instead, I let the medical board matter sink in and watch as she frowns slightly.
"So you could be fired." She sounds worried.
"Censured, certainly—fired, possibly. With men like Campbell around fucking things up, I imagine they'll give me leeway just for cleaning up his messes. But ..." I lean back in my seat next to her. I have barely touched her yet, but now that she’s brought this up, it's a real trial to keep my hands to myself.
"But what? I mean, I don't ...I don't want to get you in trouble." Her pale-gray eyes stare into my dark ones, and I smile and reach out, touching the back of her hand gently.
"You're not getting me in trouble. If I don't handle this properly, I could get me in trouble." I want to caress her right now. I want to spend the night exploring each other until we’re exhausted. But just looking at her, still half-dressed in her hospital clothes, I know I can't.
"Just believe me, I'd be proposing we do something about this right now if it wasn't for the rules." I glance down at her leg. "And the fact that, young lady, you still have a good deal of healing to do." I give her a wink and a smile, trying to reassure her, but she's blushing again and looking down at her hands suddenly.
Her shyness makes her even more adorable. She's beautiful and doesn't seem to know it, and her modest, unassuming manner is refreshing.
"You're right," she says with a tiny smile. "I ...know I'm going to see you again since we're going to be kicking Campbell's ass in court. But I ...well, I'd date you even if we had to keep it a secret for a while."
I feel that tentative warmth again. I know I'm not much of a romantic, especially after all the darkness and blood I had to wade through back in London. But I'd love to try it with her anyway.
Maybe. If things go well ...
My cock throbs impatiently inside my jeans, as now I have to fight both desire and affection. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, I lean over and kiss her very lightly.
Her full, sweet lips feel silky against mine, and a touch cooler. I hear her draw a trembling breath, and her fingertips skate down over my shoulder. Then, very reluctantly, I let her go.
"I'll keep that in mind," I tell her, staring into her eyes. "But right now, you need to go back and get some rest."
Driving her back to the dorms and dropping her off a block away is more difficult than I thought it would be. I'm actually getting an ache in my balls from the many times that I've gotten turned on today without release. I think briefly about calling on one of the friends-with-benefits I keep on my roster, but ...I know sex with them won't satisfy me.
I want Samantha. I want to spend time with her. I want to kiss her and hold her in my arms, and when the time comes, I want to spend a whole night satisfying us both. It's such a powerful feeling that it unnerves me a bit. But I can't deny it.
Instead, I make sure she's all right to walk the short distance in her borrowed Wellies. I watch her make the walk, and I watch her swipe her card and go inside the building. And, then, I force myself to go home, knowing that I'm going to need a very stiff drink.
Weeks pass and winter really starts to set in. I start to think about inviting Samantha for Christmas. Neither one of us has a family anymore—herself by accident and myself by necessity.
Samantha and I plot against Dr. Campbell. We work as a team, putting together a timeline of events and collecting paperwork, including her pre-hospitalization medical record, which shows the lack of thorough testing. We get a copy of the prescription for the calcium channel blocker that Campbell had given her, which likely worsened her condition, and we put a plastic bag with the bottle in it in our growing evidence folder.
We have dinner together. I try to impress her at first, but we both turn out to be steak, pizza, and Chinese takeaway people, so I lay the wines and foie gras aside (always hated them both anyway) and we focus instead on enjoying our time together.
We always kiss goodnight, and I always have to fight to keep it from going further. She's healing first, and then, after that, she's scrambling to catch up with classes. I try not to distract her and bury myself in my work a bit to keep from being distracted myself.
I find myself looking for Christmas gifts for her in jewelry catalogs online. I find something perfect and receive the wrapped box in the mail and hide it away in the top of my closet. Then I add a few things—Wellies in her actual size and a good winter coat—and stash their wrapped boxes in the same place.
Finally, on the afternoon of December fifteenth, we go to see a lawyer I hunted down who has won five cases against Campbell by himself. His name is Michael Chang, and he agrees right away to see what we have.
He turns out to be a tallish, lean man with tan, wispy hair that is thinning on top and small, black eyes that remind me of Copper's. The resemblance distracts me, and I avoid looking at his eyes unless he is talking directly to me. Instead, I focus on his little, silver holly-sprig tie tack.
Samantha sits next to me in a plain, navy blue dress that is apparently her best, hiding a fraying section of the sleeve cuff under her wrist. She looks very nervous, and I reach for her hand and hold it as the lawyer looks over our folder.
"This detrimental prescription, the lack of any response to an emergent situation involving chest pains, and the lack of essential testing all point toward an extremely dangerous level of negligence." He turns the last page and sets the folder aside with a small smile. "It's entirely consistent with the other cases I have taken against Dr. Campbell."
"So you'll take the case?" Samantha sounds both worried and eager.
"Oh, absolutely. If I were you, I would high-ball your suit, say to the tune of one million dollars. Chances are that he will offer half that as a settlement."
Samantha goes pale and her eyes bulge. I chuckle and hug her gently. "Don't sell yourself short, dear," I purr in her ear. "He did greatly endanger you and extend your suffering."
She nods and sets her jaw, looking up at the lawyer. "I'm going with your advice on this one."
He sits back with a smile and looks between us. "Good, good. I'll file the paperwork, and we'll see what his lawyer's response is."
I give her hand another squeeze behind the desk, and she shoots me that small, brave smile. I squash another surge of desire. "All right, then. Let's go home and celebrate."