Chapter 4: Losing control

I woke up parched as the proverbial bone. Throwing the sheet back, I stumbled into the bathroom and used my hands to drink right from the tap until I'd slaked my thirst. Drinking causes dehydration - I should have remembered that last night.

Last night? "Ohmigod..." I said aloud. I did not throw myself at Keven. I did not take off all my clothes and beg him to have sex with me. He must think I'm the biggest slut ever and after that performance, I couldn't say he was wrong. I'd been like a minx in heat. What the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, I wasn't.

I showered and dressed quickly, both eager and reticent about going downstairs. Jeans and a green blouse would work. I normally didn't wear shoes at home, so I wouldn't worry about them now. The clock told me it was after 9 AM. I should be at work and in surgery. A flashing vision of the carjacker's blood on my hands made me stop and take a deep breath. I didn't have time for this crap.

Keven was sitting in the living room with one of my notepads in his lap. He had a pencil flying over the paper, sketching something. As I entered the room, his dark eyes rose from the paper and he smiled. Closing the notepad and setting it aside, he rose to his feet and walked up to me, taking my hands in his. "How do you feel this morning?"

I looked down, noticing small scars on the back of his hands and I wondered what had caused them. "I feel like an idiot - like some bimbo." I looked back into his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Taking my chin in one hand, he shook his head. "Don't. You're neither an idiot nor a bimbo and you don't have anything to be sorry about. You had a terrible shock yesterday and human beings react to shock by being human."

I wiped a tear from my cheek and smiled a little. "So, it's normal to throw yourself at some guy that you barely know like some tart? I shouldn't have done that. I... I know you want me and there I was torturing you like that. You wouldn't have been out of line to take me, you know."

Cocking his head to the side, he let out that roguish grin. "Oh, being tortured like that has its benefits, too, but I would've been out of line to give in to temptation. Tell me, would you have regretted sleeping with me when you woke up? Honestly."

Taking a deep breath, I deflated. "Probably."

"Then I did the right thing. If we'd had sex last night, you wouldn't respect me this morning."

I barked a short laugh and slapped his shoulder. "I thought that went the other way! You're incorrigible!"

"Yes, I am," he agreed, "and hungry. Let me make some breakfast and then we can discuss paintings."

"I won't argue about food," I said, following him into the kitchen after he picked up the notepad, "but I'm surprised that you don't want another chance at me, now that I'm sober. I wouldn't say no."

Those dark eyes took a moment to devour me again, sending a shiver up my spine. "Oh, I haven't lost interest but this is too important to rush. I don't want to make love to you because you're afraid, drunk or feeling guilty. When the time and place are right, we will make love, Sandy. Count on it."

I cooled the simmering heat he roused in me and nodded. "Absolutely."

"Mutual respect is very important in a relationship," he said piously, making me roll my eyes.

He started making breakfast, so I let him concentrate and snagged the notebook. He quirked an eyebrow at me, but didn't object. Flipping open the cover, I stared at the first sketch. A woman, I assume me, was lying on a bed, her body half covered by a sheet. My arm was stretched out, beckoning someone to come to me. My body language screamed desire.

I looked back up at him in shock. "This is me?"

Keven nodded. "Fair warning, if you go any further, you'll see where my imagination took me last night and this morning."

My fingers itched to flip the sheet and look on. "You mean, like pornographic drawings?"

He nodded. "Well, more explicit." Then he and turned to the stove, cracked the eggs and starting them to cooking, leaving me in peace to decide whether to give in to my curiosity or not in privacy.

Swallowing hard, I closed the notepad and set it aside. I badly wanted to look but I didn't feel like I should. It felt like invading his thoughts and fantasies. I'd look once I felt more comfortable with him.

A few minutes later, he set an omelet in front of me and sat down, eyeing the notebook. "Well?"

I took a bite and found steaming ham and cheese. "Delicious." He mock-glared at me. "No, the drawings."

I met his look with one of innocence. "Was I supposed to have an opinion on them?"

"Don't make me take you over my knee and paddle you," he threatened with an upraised fork.

"Ooooo, now that sounds promising," I said with a throaty chuckle. "I've noticed you do like to have your hands on my ass."

He smiled and nodded. "And a very nice ass it is, too. Now, what did you think?"

"I only looked at the first one," I admitted. "I just didn't feel right about looking at the others just yet. I think we need to get to know each other first. The first one looked like me, only sexier. I liked it."

"Oh, you're that sexy and more. With paint, I'll be able to capture that a lot more closely than with just a pencil."

My fork slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered on the plate. "You're going to paint me like that?" My heart thumped in my chest.

"Yes, but no one will ever see it unless you agree," he said calmly. "That would be a betrayal and I'd never do that. Nudity and the type of allure you exude would make an exquisite masterpiece."

I swallowed and picked up my fork, studiously eating while I thought about it. "Does that count as the first modeling?"

"Only if you decide you want it to be a painting I can display."

I thought about and shrugged. He was right. Art and nudity went hand-in-hand. "I can live with that, I suppose. You'll probably make me look better than I would have anyway. I suppose you can show those, though I doubt you'll be hanging any pornographic paintings, so that seems safe enough."

He nodded. "True enough. What would you like to do after we eat?" he asked, changing the subject.

"You don't have to hang around and pamper me," I said, finishing off the rest of my food. "I'll be okay."

His dark eyes flashed. "I promised Doctor H that I'd be right here for you and I'm not just going to skate off when you need me. You might as well accept that I'm going to be underfoot, at least for today."

Part of me thought that was sweet; the other part was pissed that he thought I needed to be coddled. His laughing at my mixed expression didn't help. "Do you need to get a change of clothes?" I asked, deciding to ignore the provocation. "We can go by your place and let you clean up first. Then I'd like to go to the clinic. I want to see my patients."

Keven nodded. "I think I do need to shower and change clothes. Let me get the dishes started and we'll go."

I was surprised he didn't argue with me. I'd expected to have to browbeat him into letting me out of the house, much less anywhere near work. My hand picked up the notebook while he was doing the dishes before I really realized what it was doing and I had to force myself to push it across the table. My mind's eye had all kinds of ideas of what it contained and I wanted to see it. I imagined our bodies tangled together in the sheets, his lips...

With a groan, I abruptly stood up. He looked back at me with a question in his eyes. "That notebook is a tool of the devil," I announced. "I keep picking it up and wanting look inside. Please take it with you when we leave."

His laughter followed me back up the stairs as I went to finish dressing. This was so embarrassing.

Keven shadowed me as we walked into the clinic lobby, holding onto the notepad and a pencil. I'd asked him to leave it at his place, but he said he might have some time to draw while I did my rounds. I decided it wasn't worth arguing about.

Trina jumped up and ran to me, hugging me tearfully. I just held her and shed some tears of my own.

"Ohmigod, Sandy! I was so worried about you! Steve should have walked you to your car!" she said.

"That's not fair, Trina. It was noon in a public lot. He had no idea some maniac was going to do that. I'm happy you're talking enough to know that," I said with a smile.

"We made up," she admitted happily. Then she frowned. "Danny said you were taking a few days off so you're not supposed to be here."

"I'm not supposed to do lots of things I do anyway," I said more cheerfully than I'd expected so soon. Trina was good for me. "I may not be operating for a few days, but that doesn't mean I won't be checking up on all you slackers."

She laughed and held out her hand to Keven. "Mr. Braddock, it's good to see you again. Are you here to see Danny?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm shadowing the good Doctor Craig. Someone has to keep her out of trouble."

I snorted at them as they laughed at my expense. "Very funny. He's my ride until Danny forks my car back over."

Trina looked surprised. "He still has your car? I thought he'd take it back when Holly went to stay with you last night."

I could see this one coming. Not that I could stop it, mind you, but I knew where this conversation was going to go. "Holly didn't spend the night with me."

Trina's brow creased in worry. "You shouldn't be alone! I can't believe she left you by yourself!"

Sighing, I gave in to the inevitable. "I wasn't alone."

Trina was confused for a moment and then her eyes widened and her gaze flicked to Keven, making the leap that I had seen coming. Then she blushed. "Oh. Well. I guess that's okay." She grinned.