All He Needs
Page 21
“Maybe this doctor gives these shots for you somewhere else,” she said, ignoring his momentous admission because she was jealous of every woman he’d ever looked at and her jealousy was an irresistible force.
“I’ve never asked him to do this for me before. Please, Katherine. I don’t want to talk about the past. It’s over. And if you’ll agree to an exclusivity pact, there’s no one but you.”
“What if I don’t agree?”
He exhaled softly. “What do you want me to say?”
“How about the truth?”
“Then I’ll be fucking someone else. Satisfied?”
It was amazing how much it hurt to hear him say that. To think of him with another woman. To consider life without him now that he’d returned to her.
“Hey,” he whispered, taking her hand in his, gently squeezing it. “I don’t want anyone but you. But it’s not as though I’m eighty, okay? So let’s get together on this. I want only you. No one else. It’s been a hellish month, let’s not fight about how much I want you. There’s no measure large enough or high enough or deep enough. I’m on the verge of begging you, baby, and that’s fucking scary.” His smile was inexpressibly tender. “So give me a break. Say yes before I embarrass myself completely. We’ll hammer out the details later about where and when, how often”—he grinned—“and what you want for toys.”
She smiled. “I think I missed the begging part. You sound pretty assured.”
“I am about the toys.”
“You always were arrogant.”
“And you always resist me.”
She gave him a look from under her lashes.
He grinned. “Well, sometimes you do.”
She sighed softly, not sure whether she was giving in to him or whether life without him was insupportable. “So—do I need an attorney?”
In a flash, he lifted her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and dazzled her with a smile. “I’m so freaking happy,” he whispered, kissing her gently. “And if you want an attorney, we’ll get you one. I don’t really care, so long as I know you’re mine.”
“Hey!” She poked him in the chest.
“Let me reword that,” he said with a grin. “So long as you know I’m yours. Is that better? Should we send out announcements?”
“Very funny.”
He gave her a small considering look. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind. It would get other—er—people… off my back. My PR people could publicize our relationship, formalize it as it were. What do you say?”
“I don’t like publicity.”
He frowned. “You don’t want people to know we’re together?”
“Dominic, please, this is all very sweet, but you can’t sustain it—not for long anyway. Then I’d have to parlay all the stupid questions, my privacy would be shot to hell, and, at the end of the day, I’d be crying in public instead of in private. If I agree not to see anyone else, I won’t. Personally, I don’t think you can do it, but we can try because you make me happy too.” She kissed him lightly. “In every imaginable way.”
He knew when to take a break from negotiations. “You’ll find out I can do it,” he said softly. “You’re my world, baby.” He lifted one brow. “So?” He held up his phone. “Do I have your okay to call the doctor?”
EIGHT
Dominic and Kate waited for the doctor in Dominic’s bedroom, the large space dominated by a four-poster bed contemporary with the nineteenth-century building. Constructed of teakwood to withstand the tropical heat and humidity, the wood had mellowed over the centuries to a warm ochre, the aged finish burnished to a silken gloss. Folding doors, closed now, led out to a veranda; central air kept the heat at bay along with an overhead fan gently revolving in the high raftered ceiling. The bed, chairs, and sofa were all covered in a pale, natural linen, simply tailored and unembellished. The floor was polished teak, the two dressers and desk as well. It was a masculine room.
Dominic had found them robes, Kate dwarfed by one of his that was sizes too large. They were seated side by side on his enormous bed, where they’d just demolished an assortment of sandwiches, cookies, and milk that Dominic had ordered for Kate, along with beer and some Malay street food he favored. He didn’t coax her to try any of it because he was determined to be polite rather than controlling.
“Christ, it feels good to be hungry again,” he said with a sigh of contentment, lifting the snack tray away. “I’ve barely eaten since Hong Kong.” Offering Kate the last cookie, he gestured at the empty plates. “Should I order more?”
“Probably not”—she arched her brows—“with your doctor on his way.”
He understood the message loud and clear. “Ask him when he gets here. Yash will tell you you’re the only one. He doesn’t ordinarily do this for me.”
“Oh God…” She sighed. “I wish I wasn’t so—”
“Jealous. Don’t feel alone. I didn’t even know what the word meant until I met you.” His gaze was unwavering, a barely there smile on his lips. “I’m charting new territory with you, babe. No question.”
“Everything about you, this, us—is new for me too. I feel confused, jealous, insanely horny. Like some infatuated teenager with no sense of proportion.”
“I’ve never asked him to do this for me before. Please, Katherine. I don’t want to talk about the past. It’s over. And if you’ll agree to an exclusivity pact, there’s no one but you.”
“What if I don’t agree?”
He exhaled softly. “What do you want me to say?”
“How about the truth?”
“Then I’ll be fucking someone else. Satisfied?”
It was amazing how much it hurt to hear him say that. To think of him with another woman. To consider life without him now that he’d returned to her.
“Hey,” he whispered, taking her hand in his, gently squeezing it. “I don’t want anyone but you. But it’s not as though I’m eighty, okay? So let’s get together on this. I want only you. No one else. It’s been a hellish month, let’s not fight about how much I want you. There’s no measure large enough or high enough or deep enough. I’m on the verge of begging you, baby, and that’s fucking scary.” His smile was inexpressibly tender. “So give me a break. Say yes before I embarrass myself completely. We’ll hammer out the details later about where and when, how often”—he grinned—“and what you want for toys.”
She smiled. “I think I missed the begging part. You sound pretty assured.”
“I am about the toys.”
“You always were arrogant.”
“And you always resist me.”
She gave him a look from under her lashes.
He grinned. “Well, sometimes you do.”
She sighed softly, not sure whether she was giving in to him or whether life without him was insupportable. “So—do I need an attorney?”
In a flash, he lifted her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and dazzled her with a smile. “I’m so freaking happy,” he whispered, kissing her gently. “And if you want an attorney, we’ll get you one. I don’t really care, so long as I know you’re mine.”
“Hey!” She poked him in the chest.
“Let me reword that,” he said with a grin. “So long as you know I’m yours. Is that better? Should we send out announcements?”
“Very funny.”
He gave her a small considering look. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind. It would get other—er—people… off my back. My PR people could publicize our relationship, formalize it as it were. What do you say?”
“I don’t like publicity.”
He frowned. “You don’t want people to know we’re together?”
“Dominic, please, this is all very sweet, but you can’t sustain it—not for long anyway. Then I’d have to parlay all the stupid questions, my privacy would be shot to hell, and, at the end of the day, I’d be crying in public instead of in private. If I agree not to see anyone else, I won’t. Personally, I don’t think you can do it, but we can try because you make me happy too.” She kissed him lightly. “In every imaginable way.”
He knew when to take a break from negotiations. “You’ll find out I can do it,” he said softly. “You’re my world, baby.” He lifted one brow. “So?” He held up his phone. “Do I have your okay to call the doctor?”
EIGHT
Dominic and Kate waited for the doctor in Dominic’s bedroom, the large space dominated by a four-poster bed contemporary with the nineteenth-century building. Constructed of teakwood to withstand the tropical heat and humidity, the wood had mellowed over the centuries to a warm ochre, the aged finish burnished to a silken gloss. Folding doors, closed now, led out to a veranda; central air kept the heat at bay along with an overhead fan gently revolving in the high raftered ceiling. The bed, chairs, and sofa were all covered in a pale, natural linen, simply tailored and unembellished. The floor was polished teak, the two dressers and desk as well. It was a masculine room.
Dominic had found them robes, Kate dwarfed by one of his that was sizes too large. They were seated side by side on his enormous bed, where they’d just demolished an assortment of sandwiches, cookies, and milk that Dominic had ordered for Kate, along with beer and some Malay street food he favored. He didn’t coax her to try any of it because he was determined to be polite rather than controlling.
“Christ, it feels good to be hungry again,” he said with a sigh of contentment, lifting the snack tray away. “I’ve barely eaten since Hong Kong.” Offering Kate the last cookie, he gestured at the empty plates. “Should I order more?”
“Probably not”—she arched her brows—“with your doctor on his way.”
He understood the message loud and clear. “Ask him when he gets here. Yash will tell you you’re the only one. He doesn’t ordinarily do this for me.”
“Oh God…” She sighed. “I wish I wasn’t so—”
“Jealous. Don’t feel alone. I didn’t even know what the word meant until I met you.” His gaze was unwavering, a barely there smile on his lips. “I’m charting new territory with you, babe. No question.”
“Everything about you, this, us—is new for me too. I feel confused, jealous, insanely horny. Like some infatuated teenager with no sense of proportion.”
