FAULTED EMOTIONS

Drake followed Sarah ito the private room where her father was being monitored prior to the transplant. Strict sterilisation procedures were being conducted and, according to the nurse, they would be a hundred times more stringent once the surgery was over.

The old man was lying in a bed with medical apparatus tethering him seemingly from every limb. He opened his eyes when Sarah approached the bed and gave a weak smile. ‘'You made it in time.’'

Sarah gently took her father’s hand in hers and Drake was touched to see the warmth and tenderness in Sarah’s gaze. Had he ever looked at her like that? As if she mattered more than anything at that moment? She felt guilty for thinking such thoughts at such a time with her father so desperately ill, but how could she not wish Drake had felt something more than just earthy lust for her?

'‘I made it,’ Sarah said. ‘And I brought someone with me to see you.’'

Her father looked to where Drake was standing and his weary bloodshot eyes lit up like stadium lights. ‘'Drake? Is it really you?’'

He stepped forward and put his hand on the old man’s forearm, so close to where Sarah’s hand was resting she felt a little electric tingle shoot up her arm. '‘Hello, Matt.'’

Matt’s eyes began to water and he blinked a few times as if trying to control his emotions. '‘My dear girl... You have no idea how much it thrills me to see you back with Drake. I’ve prayed for this day. Prayed and prayed and prayed.'’

Back with Drake.

Those three words sent a wave of heat through her body and two hot pools of it firing in her cheeks. Had Drake already told his father they were back together? Had he been so arrogantly confident she would sign the agreement? She was glad now she hadn’t signed it. Fervently glad. He had given her ten million very good reasons to sign it, but still, it rankled that he thought he could so easily buy her acquiescence by waving indecent amounts of money in front of her.

‘'But I’m not really—’' Sarah stopped mid-sentence. How could she tell Matt the opposite of what he clearly wanted to hear? She might not have signed Drake’s agreement, but her poor father was being wheeled into surgery within a matter of minutes for an operation, which he might not survive. What harm would it do to allow Matt this one moment?

She wasn’t back with Drake as in Back With Drake. She was playing a game of charades to keep an old man happy. Standing here by this old man’s bedside with the prospect of his life with a clock ticking on it made her want to do everything in her power to make her father feel settled and peaceful before his life-saving or, God forbid, life-ending surgery.

'‘I’m here,’ she said and moved her hand so it was on top of Drake’s on Matt’s hand. '‘We’re both here. Together.’'

Tears dripped down from Matt’s eyes and Sarah leaned over to pluck a tissue from the box beside the bed and gently mopped them away, her eyes feeling suspiciously moist and her chest so tight it felt like she was having her own medical crisis.

‘If I don’t make it through this operation then at least I have the assurance you two have patched things up,’ Matt said, his voice choked with emotion. ‘You’re meant to be together. I knew that the first time Sarah introduced me to you. You’re a strong man, Drake. And my daughter is a strong woman and needs someone with enough backbone to handle her.’'

Sarah was going to handle Drake all right. She was going to grab him by the front of the shirt and tell him what she thought of him manipulating her into this crazy charade by default. Even though she hadn’t committed herself on paper, he must have known she wouldn’t be able to help herself once she saw her desperately ill father. No wonder he hadn’t made a fuss back in his office when she’d refused to sign the wretched agreement. He had simply bided his time so he could play on her emotions because he knew it was her weak spot. Just like he was using her love and affection for her brother as a bargaining tool, forcing her to bend to his will.

‘'Time to go to Theatre,’' a hospital nurse orderly announced from the door.

Sarah leaned down to kiss her father on both cheeks ,her voice husky and deep. '‘Good luck, dad. We’ll be waiting for you once you come out of Recovery.'’

If you come out of Recovery...

Sarah could hear the unspoken words like a haunting echo inside her head. Drake had lost his mother when he was a small child barely old enough to remember her. He had only his grandmother—who had effectively raised him—five years ago, and lost his father during the last two years.

She hadn’t expected to feel anything other than hate towards Drake because of the way he had treated her in the past . If her father survives this she will definitely bid the contract interest .

But who wouldn’t feel sorry for someone saying goodbye to a father who had been there for them all of their life?

Sarah leaned down to kiss her father’s cheeks and wish him well and, when she straightened, Drake’s arm encircled her waist and drew her close to his body. In spite of the layers of her clothes, his touch set off fireworks through her flesh. He was so much taller than she was and even in her high heels she barely came up to his shoulder. She had never been more aware of her femininity than when standing next to him. It was as if his body had secret radar that was finely tuned to hers, signalling to it, making it ping back responses she had little or no control over. She could feel them now. Ping. Ping. Ping. Tingle. Tingle. Tingle. The warm press of his hand on her left hip was sending a message straight to her core, like a network of fiery hot wires fizzing and whizzing. Her breasts began to stir, as if remembering the slightly calloused glide of his hands caressing them, his thumbs rolling over her nipples...

Sarah gave herself a mental slap and eased out of Drake's hold once her father had been wheeled away, accompanied by the nurse and three other clinicians. She waited until they were alone before she turned to face Drake with a skewering glare. '‘Did you tell him we were back together before you’d even spoken to me?’'

His expression showed faint signs of irritation. '‘No. But he must’ve put two and two together when he saw you come in with me.'’ He rubbed a hand over his face, the sound of his stubble catching against his skin making something in her belly turn over. '‘Thanks, by the way. You’ve made a frail old man very happy.

Sarah shifted her lips from side to side—a habit she’d had since childhood. She did it when she was stressed and she did it when she was thinking. ‘But what about when he wakes up? He’ll know there’s something not right between us. He might be desperately sick but he’s not a fool.’'

His dark-as-pitch eyes moved between each of hers in a back and forth motion, as if looking for a gap in her firewall. ‘'You’ll have to work a little harder on convincing him you’re in love with me.

Sarah gave him an arch look. ‘Maybe you could show me how to do it by example.’

His hooded gaze went to her mouth and something dropped off a shelf in her stomach. That was the look that had started their crazy lust-driven relationship. The I-want-to-have-jungle-sex-with-you look. The look that melted her self-control like a scorching flame on sorbet. But then, as if he remembered they were still in a hospital room and likely to be interrupted, he brought his gaze back to hers. '‘I’m sure you’ll do a great job once you see ten million dollars in your bank account.’' He took out his phone and started pressing the keys, adding, '‘I’ll transfer a quarter of the funds now and the rest when our deal ends.'’

Sarah bristled again at again at the suggestion she could be bought. ‘I don’t care if you put twenty million in my account, it won’t change the fact that I hate you. And I told you, I only signed because....." She suddenly felt out of breath and stopped

He looked up from his phone with an unreadable look. ‘'Hate me all you like in private, cara, but in public—signed agreement or not—you will act like a blissfully happy bride or answer for the consequences.’'

She ground her teeth together. ‘'Don’t go all macho man on me, Drake. It won’t work.’'

One side of his mouth lifted in an indolent smile as if he was enjoying her strong will colliding with his.

He stepped closer and lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. She knew she should have jerked away from him but for some reason her body was locked in a mesmerised stasis. His eyes were so dark she couldn’t make out his pupils and they pulsed with little flashes of heat that could have been anger or red-hot desire or a combination of the two.

‘'You really are spoiling for a fight, aren’t you, tesoro mio? But you know where our fights end up, hmm? In bed with you raking your fingernails down my back as I make you come again and again and again.’'

Oh! he remembers , Sarah could feel her cheeks blushing like an industrial furnace. How dare he remind her of how wanton she had been in his arms? He made her turn into an animal in his bed. A wild animal with needs and desires and hungers that had never been awakened, much less satisfied, by anyone but him.

The need to get away from him so she could think straight was suddenly paramount. She didn’t care what agreement he wanted her to accomplish or for how much, but right then and there she had to put some space between them.

'‘Dream on, Drake I need the bathroom. Will you excuse me for a minute?’

'‘There’s a restroomin here.'’ He pointed to the signed door in her father’s room. '‘I’ll wait for you.’'

Sarah gave him a tight smile that didn’t show her teeth. '‘Strange as this may seem given our previous relationship, but I would actually like a little privacy. I’ll use the restroom down the hall.'’ She moved past him and mentally steeled herself for him trying to stop her but she managed to escape without him touching her. She glanced back from the doorway but he had already taken out his phone and was tapping again at the screen.

Sarah walked straight past the restroom down the corridor and stepped into the first available lift. She would have taken the stairs but she was in too much of a hurry. She had left him almost two years ago but a secret part of her had hoped he would come after her. While on one level she accepted he didn’t love her in the traditional sense, on another level she had been so desperate for a sign—any sign—he cared something for her that her walk out had been far more impulsive and dramatic than she’d intended. In hindsight, she realised she had been hormonal and moody and feeling neglected because he’d been having commitment issues . She’d felt like a toy that had been put to one side that no longer held its earlier appeal. Especially since when she’d mentioned having kids it had triggered all his fears about their relationship.