The Lone Wolf's Craving

Thanks, Dr. Lucas Blackman

A wave of panic went through her before she realized it probably wasn’t anything related to Nick’s health. If it were, he wouldn’t have left a note. Then she gulped as she remembered his parting shot from yesterday. This couldn’t be about her panties, could it? She’d prefer he just burn them and be done with it. It was just too humiliating to talk about over the phone. Or in person, for that matter.

But if she didn’t call, she’d always wonder.

She wasn’t sure what kept her from booking a flight out of London. She’d done what she’d come to do: looked her father in the eye and drawn her own conclusions. She’d expected that to be fairly quick and easy, but nothing had gone the way she’d planned.

Nick wasn’t the type of person she’d braced herself to find. He hadn’t denied being her father—which surprised her—but then again it was kind of hard to deny the obvious. But there was something in his face that made her want to take a step back and rethink her position. Especially in the face of all those other letters she’d found in the shoebox. Did the man who’d raised her even know about those other men?

She hardened her heart. If those closest to her hadn’t thought twice about lying to her, why not the man who’d contributed nothing to her life other than his DNA?

Her mom had been trying to spare her feelings, she was sure. But surely with all her grandparents’ money, her mother would have been able to track Nick down and tell him about the pregnancy. Or about the baby, once she’d been born. So why hadn’t she?

Her mother wasn’t here to answer any of those questions. Maybe she would have told her someday, but had never gotten the chance.

Or maybe she knew something about Nick that was so terrible she hadn’t wanted her daughter to have any contact with him. Maybe Nick had...forced her, or something.

She stepped off the elevator. No, she had found the note Nick had left the next morning. He wouldn’t have done that if something bad had happened between him and her mother. And her mother certainly wouldn’t have saved a picture of them together had that been the case.

Unlocking her door, she went into her room and dropped her purse on the bed. Her suitcase was still packed, sitting on the mahogany luggage rack. She could just shut the lid and leave with everything she’d come with.

Except answers. And, of course, one pair of panties.

Ugh. She smoothed out the note and traced her finger over the bold strokes of handwriting, smiling at the typical doctorlike scribbles. Luckily she’d had to decipher many notes like these during her physical therapy training, and later, with actual patients, to understand what their doctors wanted.

There was nothing for it but to call and find out what he wanted.

She punched the number that would allow her to reach an outside line and then dialed the rest of the digits listed on the note.

“Blackman here.”

His voice sounded sharp, hurried. “Oh, I’m sorry. You left me a—”

“Kate?” His tone immediately changed. Softened. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

She blinked and glanced at the note again. No time stamp. Was it possible he’d left it only a short time ago? “Oh, I...I just got in.”

“Listen, I’m swamped right now. But basically your father’s listed you as next of kin and has given me permission to fill you in, if you’ve got some free time.”

“I can be there in a half hour.”

There was a pause. “Can we do it somewhere else? I have something of yours I need to return, and I’d rather it not be at the hospital.”

If only he’d been that conscientious a couple of days ago.

And meeting him in her hotel room was out of the question. Not because she didn’t trust him but because she didn’t trust herself. If she’d have sex with him in a public hospital, what would stop her from peeling his clothes off in a private room?

“How about a restaurant?” No, not a restaurant, dummy. “I mean a coffee shop.”

“A restaurant sounds great.” He said something to someone with him then came back to her. “I’ve really got to go. I’ll pick you up when I get off. Say around six this evening.”

“Oh, um...”

“Say yes, Kate.” His voice had gone all soft and gravelly, and she shivered. It was almost identical to the tone he’d used in the supply room. Do you want this, Kate?

She had. She’d said the word that had unleashed them both. And damn if she wasn’t about to say it all over again.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER THREE

LUKE TURNED HIS car into the hotel, giving a soft whistle as he did. He’d heard of The Claymont—knew it was exclusive and pricey—but had never had any reason to visit before now.

Towering white columns framed an ornate cobblestone driveway, the swirling pattern in the black-and-white marble chips echoing the curve of the entryway. An intricate coat of arms placed in the middle reminded him of the X on a celebrity red carpet, giving vehicles a definite stopping point. The place oozed opulence—from the lion’s-head fountain on a side wall, which splashed water into a rustic concrete trough, to the red-coated doorman who emerged from the interior of the hotel to greet him.

Kate had money. Lots of it.

Which might explain their encounter the other day. Maybe she was one of those cute socialites who got their kicks out of toying with danger.

And their time in that supply closet had definitely been dangerous. It had pushed the boundaries, even for him.

But he also remembered her hesitancy that first day at the entrance of the hospital. She hadn’t acted like a spoiled little rich girl.

Maybe her mom had married into money. Nick said Kate’s father knew she wasn’t his biological daughter, so her mother hadn’t used an unwanted pregnancy to trick anyone into marrying her.

She hadn’t lied about it.

Except to Kate, evidently. It had to be rough having your world suddenly turned on its head.

He handed the keys of his little MGB to the valet.

“I won’t be long,” he said.

“Very good, sir.”

The front entrance welcomed him, the double doors swishing open with a quiet hiss. What the hell would he do if she invited him up to her room?

It was a question he’d never thought he’d have to ask himself. But Nick was her father, so there would be no more supply closets...and definitely no hotel rooms in his future. He could keep his hands off her, really he could.

“May I help you, sir?”

The guy at the front desk was just as smooth and refined as he’d expected. “I’m here to see Kate Bradley.”

“One moment.” He tapped some buttons on his computer keyboard, but just as he was picking up the handset to dial her room, the elevator doors pinged and Kate herself emerged.

The air left his lungs, just as it had the first time he’d seen her. It wasn’t so much the way she was dressed as the way she carried herself—although the dark jeans clung in all the right places and the dark green halter-top left her pale shoulders exposed, revealing a smattering of freckles.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure where we were going,” she said when she reached him.