The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7)

by Lund, S. E.

  “We are friends, Drake,” she said, sounding impatient with me. “Old friends who know each other better than anyone. You’re a great doctor, Drake. Do you really want to put that on the line over a woman? A girl? Snap out of it!”

  “Snap out of it?” I said, almost shouting. “Jesus, Lara, I’ve never met anyone as good for me as Kate. She’s everything I could want in a partner. She’s smart and beautiful and loves music and wants to explore kink. I—“

  “Then go and get her.”

  I sat there, my mouth open. “Go get her?”

  “Yes,” she said and laughed out loud. “Go the fuck and get her, you big dumb lout. Honestly, Drake, sometimes I wonder about you. So smart about everything else except your own heart. You’re in love with her. Go and get her. She’s yours for the taking, if that’s what you really want.”

  “Why did you try to talk both of us out of the relationship?”

  She sighed audibly. “Drake. If I succeeded in talking you out of each other, then I’d know you both weren’t right for each other. Go and win her back. If you really are right for her, she’ll be only too happy.”

  “Jesus, Lara…”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, matter of fact. “Cruel but effective. Now quit your moping and go and get her.”

  I did, but before I left for Kate’s apartment, I called Ethan.

  “Drake, just the man I wanted to speak with.”

  “How’s Kate?” I said, cautious. “When she left, I was concerned for her. She seemed a bit upset.”

  “She was upset but wouldn’t say much of anything to either Elaine or me. She’s been moping around the apartment all weekend in her pajamas, barely eating. I’m worried about her.”

  “I’m worried about her as well. I think I’ll call her, try to make things right. We parted on a bad note over a misunderstanding.”

  “I thought as much, but she was pretty tight-lipped about things. I hope things work out for you both. You know I’m very fond of you, Drake, but I have to think about my little girl.”

  “Of course. I hope you know that I’m very fond of Kate and will respect her decision about us.”

  “Good man,” he said. “If things don’t work out between you two, no hard feelings on my part, Drake. I’ve known you for too long to let this come between us. Your father asked me to watch out for you as if you were my own son. I hope I have.”

  “You have, Sir. I appreciate it. Seriously.”

  We hung up and I knew that no matter what, Ethan and I would remain friends.

  I left my office and got in the car, driving over to her place, determined to get her back. The door to her building wasn’t propped open and there was no answer at her apartment so I sat on the stairs outside her building and sent her a text.

  Kate, I know everything. I talked to Lara and she confessed that she guilted you into saying goodbye to me. I was confused the other day when you claimed not to feel anything for me. I tried not to respond – to respect your wishes. In truth, I was hurt.

  Talk to me. Please. I'm not letting you run away just to protect me from something that might never happen. It's up to me what risks I take in my life, not you.

  Your father is worried about you. He says you've been sick all weekend. You know what I think? I think you're upset about this. Maybe as upset as I am.

  Kate, please… Don't give up on this – on us – without a fight.

  There was no reply for a few moments and I was almost ready to get up and go back to the hospital when my cell chimed.

  I'm in the deli across the street from you.

  I glanced up and saw her sitting in the window of the deli across the street. If she hadn’t wanted me back, she could have just sat there and watched me leave. That gave me confidence that in fact, she did want me.

  At that moment, I knew that nothing – no meddling best friend or threat of exposure – would keep me from her.

  End of Part Three

  DRAKE RESTRAINED 4

  S. E. LUND

  Copyright S. E. Lund 2014

  First Edition

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to Suzanne, my first editor and the first writer to consider my writing seriously and offer an honest constructive critique. Without your critical eye and supportive words, I would never have seen both the potential in my work and where it needed improvement. You gave me the courage to continue writing despite difficulties in the early years.

  You will be missed.

  R. I. P.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to my family and friends who supported me during the long hours when I would lock myself into my office with my computer jammed in my face, writing. Without your tolerance, my books would never have been written or finished, but my house would have been a lot cleaner! Many thanks to my editor Michelle Saunders for all her hard work – any remaining mistakes are all mine!

  CHAPTER ONE

  My heart was in my throat as I crossed the street and entered the deli. Kate was sitting in the window seat so I wasted no time pulling up a chair and sitting right beside her, my knee between hers to stop her from trying to leave before I’d had my say.

  I leaned in close, taking her hand in mine and kissed her knuckles. Her eyes were wide, as if she was afraid of what I’d do or say.

  "Drake, you can't do this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to pull her hand away but I held on tight. She wiped her eyes with the other hand, so I knew she was really upset. "We have to just end this. Better to do it now before any damage is done."

  "It's already been done. I want you,” I said, surprised at how emotional I felt. “Don't you want me?"

  She said nothing, glancing away.

  "Tell me that you don't want me." I was determined to make her admit she still wanted me. She kept trying to avoid my eyes, sighing heavily as if exasperated.

  "Tell me, Kate,” I said in my best Dom voice. “If you don't want me, I'll leave right now."

  "It's not that I don't want you," she said. "I do want you but we can't be together. It's for your own good."

  I couldn’t accept that. If she wanted me, there was no way I was going to let someone come between us. Although I was vulnerable if word got out about my involvement in the BDSM lifestyle, my life wouldn’t be over. I’d still have my inheritance and the corporation. I could always quietly move to another city in another state and practice neurosurgery. I’d thought about the possibility many times in the past five years, being as careful as I could be but prepared in case the worst came to pass.

  "If you still want me, we'll find a way to work around this, whatever it is. Tell me who knows. What did they say?"

  "I can't tell you." She leaned away from me but I kept hold of her hand, knowing that I needed to maintain physical contact with her or she’d get up and leave.

  "Look,” she said, her voice soft, “barely anything has happened between us. We had sex a couple of times. We should just let this drop. I'm sure there are other subs with far fewer … impediments than I have."

  "Impediments…" I said, smiling just a bit. "Something happened between us, Kate. I know it's only been a short time, but I don’t want this to end, especially not in this way because of someone else forcing us. If we stop seeing each other, it should be because of how we feel, not someone else's judgment."

  She said nothing, but she did meet my gaze. "This person told me there was a restraining order against you. Your ex-wife…"

  I closed my eyes and bowed my head, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The restraining order was always hanging over my head like some personal sword of Damocles. How could I make Kate understand what it really was? "That was a long time ago in a different life."

  "You can understand why they, and why I, might be concerned,” she said softly. “You are into BDSM."

  "Not the SM part,” I insisted. “Kate, I didn't injure her. I tried to prevent her from leaving our home. That's all. I prevented her from leaving for a while. I wanted to talk
to her. I wanted to try to work things out. She wasn't listening."

  "Why?” she asked, frowning. “What happened between you? Why did your marriage fail?"

  I searched her face, looking for some kind of sign that she would really listen. How could I explain what happened between us?

  "Why does any marriage fail?" I shook my head, the futility of explaining it frustrating me. "Because the couple is no longer in sync. We were no longer in sync. I wanted more control. She didn't want me to have it. I was so ambitious about my career, traveling around the country doing conferences, presenting papers. We grew apart, and when I did finally try to assert more control, she was already gone emotionally."

  "You were just starting to recognize your Dom tendencies?"

  "Yes,” I said, “but not very clearly. Look, I may have been a self-centered asshole, but I never hurt her. Never."

  "Why were you a self-centered asshole?"

  "I spent too much time away. You know…"

  "No, I don't."

  "I was like my father, Kate,” I said, hating to admit it for I always swore I would never be like him. “I was too busy and neglected her."

  "Why? Didn't you love her?"

  I shrugged, filled with exasperation. "I don't know. Part of me thinks I did still love her. Part of me thinks I had no idea what love was." I glanced away, remembering so many nights where I stayed longer at work than I had to. How I’d kept my distance emotionally and all we had together was great sex, and even that was starting to be affected by my need for dominance. "I neglected her and she fell out of love with me. She said I was a self-centered prick who cared only about myself."

  "Do you agree?"

  I nodded, because I had been a self-centered prick. But part of me knew that I was also afraid. Afraid of being hurt. How foolish I’d been. My behavior led directly to my broken heart. "I didn't know what it took to make a relationship work. I'd never seen a marriage. Never knew what a woman wanted, what she expected. I can do sex, Kate. I do it really well. Everything else in a relationship? Not so much."

  She nodded as if she understood. "What happened in court? Lara said you got off really lightly."

  "Lara helped me,” I said and inhaled deeply. “She's very rational and saw what was happening and set me on the right path. I started training with Lara at that point."

  "You already knew her?"

  I nodded. "Yes. We were old acquaintances and took classes together during our undergrad years. When I needed a lawyer, I called her. When I needed to be taught how to do this properly, she trained me. Kate, I've never hurt anyone purposely except during training and that was consensual. If anything's happened otherwise, it was an accident. Incidental to what was happening."

  "What happened?"

  I thought back to all the times when something happened by accident during a scene with one of my submissives. None of the pain my subs experienced, with the exception of the first subs Lara paired me with to test my interest in S&M, had ever been intentional. "A binding a bit too tight. A bruise or abrasion on a wrist or ankle. Nothing permanent. Nothing inflicted on purpose. I've always chosen my subs very carefully. I don't want anyone into pain. If a sub needs pain, I refuse to sign. Just D/s. Just pleasure. You can ask Lara for more details if you need them. I'll tell you anything you want to know." I glanced at my cell. "Look, I hate to rush this. I know you need to process this but I have a surgery in a very short time. I want you to come with me. I don’t want to leave you alone right now."

  "Come with you where?"

  "To the hospital,” I said, not willing to let her go at that point for fear she never answered my cell or texts again and was out of my life permanently. “You can sit in my office while I take care of this procedure. It’s pretty short—only about forty-five minutes. Then I have an hour off before my final surgeries of the day. I want to figure this out."

  "I can go back to my apartment and wait there."

  "Come with me. I don’t want you out of my," I said and hesitated, trying to find the right word. "Out of my reach right now."

  "I'm not going to disappear…"

  "Kate, for all I know, you might,” I said, unwilling to take the risk. “Come with me. Wait for me. Then we'll figure this all out."

  She looked hesitant. "I shouldn't go anywhere with you. If anyone saw us..."

  "No one is going to see us."

  Finally, she gave in and exhaled. " Okay."

  I still held her hand in mine and so I squeezed it, and then leaned in and kissed her. She let me and I knew then that she did want me, but was afraid that I’d get hurt if we were found to be together. I wanted to push her down on the floor and ravish her right then and there. My mind went immediately to my office at the hospital and how I’d lock my door and have her right there on the sofa after my procedure was completed.

  "Come," I said, standing and pulling her up with me. She followed me without question. We left the deli and took my car to NY Presbyterian, to the wing where my office was located. While we walked hand in hand back to my office, I explained to her what I would do in the procedure. I ushered her into the small room with a sofa, flat screen television for watching procedures, and my desk. A small exam room was off through the side door.

  "Here," I said and pointed to the couch. "Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I have a collection of out of date magazines to read." I switched on the huge screen so she could watch me operate. "There's a coffee and vending machine down the hall if you get thirsty or hungry. You can watch the surgery on the screen if you want. We're recording all procedures and you can watch live feed here."

  "I can watch you operate?"

  "Yes," I said and held up the remote. "I do really specialized robotically-assisted procedures and record every case for my clinical course in neurosurgery. You can use this to turn the volume up or down. If you get bored, you can switch to cable and watch television." I brought up a screen that had three views, one with a slightly elevated view of a high-tech looking OR theatre, another directly above a gurney, and a third staring at what resembled an open CT scanner. Inside, the scrub nurses and technicians were busy preparing for surgery.

  "That's your OR?"

  "For the procedure this afternoon, yes. It's a really advanced OR suite equipped for neurological procedures like I'm doing this afternoon." I pointed to a CT scanner. "That does real-time images of the brain for really delicate surgery."

  "What are you doing?"

  "Implanting electrodes in a man's brain to stop Parkinson's tremor. That's for imaging the brain during the procedure. The patient will be sitting with his head inside the machine so we can watch as the electrodes are inserted to make sure we get them in the right location. Speaking of which, I have to get ready or I'm going to be late. Gotta go scrub in."

  I handed her the remote control, then I bent down to kiss her. She raised her head and let me. I touched her bottom lip, the tiny scar, and then stared into her eyes, searching for some sign that she was really here to stay. "Wait for me?"

  She nodded, but didn’t reply.

  "I'll be forty-five minutes, maybe an hour, depending on how things go. Okay?"

  "I'll be here."

  I went to the door and looked back at her. "I won’t be long."

  She smiled and waved so I closed the door and left her alone.

  I scrubbed outside the OR in the anteroom while the rest of the OR staff finished preparations for surgery. One of my neurosurgery residents would start the procedure, opening the cranium and preparing the patient for my part of the surgery.

  When I was gowned up and ready, I went up to my patient to say hello, and then I turned to the camera to describe the procedure. I returned to Mr. Graham and spoke with him to reassure him.

  "How are you doing, Bob?" I said, keeping my voice firm but warm. "Ready?"

  "Cut away, Doc. Great tunes, by the way," Mr. Graham said. "When you asked me, I didn't really believe you'd play Led Zeppelin in the OR."

  "I find music
relaxes patients,” I said and smiled beneath my mask. “Luckily, we have the same taste in bands."

  "You're too young to like this music."

  "It's my father's music. I love it, too."

  I consulted the CT images, checking to make sure everything was in proper alignment. I described what I was doing for the benefit of my students, who would watch the video in preparation for their own OR time. Then, I went ahead with the procedure and threaded an electrode into a precise position in the brain, guided by a CT-generated image on a screen beside the operating table.

  "When I stimulate the section of the brain where the electrode has been placed, Mr. Graham's hand should stop shaking. Slowly at first, maybe not completely, but there will be noticeable improvement."

  Graham’s head was imprisoned in a metal cage. He lifted his hand at my instruction and it shook wildly, the tremor reaching all down his arm.

  "We are now going to send a charge down the electrode to the subthalamic nucleus and the globus pallidus interna, the structures responsible for motor movement."

  In a few seconds, Mr. Graham's hand stopped shaking. Slowly at first but in about ten or fifteen seconds, it was almost perfectly still.

  "Oh, God, oh God," Mr. Graham said, his voice breaking. "Oh, God I can't believe it." Graham was obviously overcome with emotion, and for good reason.

  "Thank you, Doctor," Mr. Graham said, his voice breaking. "Thank you, God."

  I bent over Mr. Graham, but kept my hands away from the man, to keep sterile. "I love my job," I said, smiling to myself. "I can't believe they pay me to do it."

  About twenty minutes later, after we finished closing and the nurses wheeled my patient out of the OR, I spoke briefly with the family to let them know how the procedure went and went back to my office in my scrubs, my cap still on my head. I glanced at the screen and saw the technicians cleaning the OR. Then I turned to Kate.