FrankenDom (2 page)

“What’s the catch?” Because there always was one. Nothing worth having came without
a price.

“No catch. You agree to work for Julian for a minimum of two years, keep your mouth
shut until the end of time—unless we renegotiate the non-disclosure agreement at a
later date—and you’ll get your salary and all expenses paid, plus a percentage of
the income from any patents that result from research you’re directly involved in.”

It was an astounding offer, but I was wary.

“Why Montaneva?”

“Let’s just say the government there is a little more receptive to outside-the-box
thinking and trusts Julian to know where to draw the line.”

I frowned. Less governmental oversight could be a good thing, as long as scientists
were scrupulously honest. If they weren’t…

Jesus, was I really thinking about this?

“I’ve already signed a contract with EVI,” I hedged.

Just moments ago, I was thrilled to be joining the Early Vascular Institute all the
way across the country in Maryland. It was an offer was beyond anything I’d dared
to hope for—not that I wasn’t a damn good surgeon, but the competition was stiff and
we all knew it took more than surgical skill to start out at such a prestigious practice.
Connections were everything, and not only was I far from adept at making them but
I’d never been comfortable taking advantage of the few I had, so why cultivate more?

Nevertheless, after three relatively painless interviews, the vascular surgery fellowship
at EVI was mine and I had the signed contract to prove it. Bailing on it now could
not only burn bridges, it could nuke any number of potential career highways.

“Julian will take care of it. You must be aware that money is really no object for
him, and he has a lot of influence in the upper echelons of the medical community.”

All too aware. Kilmartin BioTech had made the news with astonishing regularity over
the years, and Dr. Kilmartin himself was a medical visionary, a revolutionary. How
could one man have been blessed with so much drive and intelligence and sheer, unadulterated
personal power?

God, the offer was so tempting, but I couldn’t help hesitating. Already a headline-making
neuromuscular fellow when I was still a green resident, Julian Kilmartin had intimidated
the hell out of me. But he’d also cut an incredibly romantic figure with his aloof,
pale Britishness, exacting standards and steel-eyed intensity, and like many of the
residents on staff, I’d crushed on him pretty hard. He’d lost his father to Bain’s
Atrophy when he was in high school and dedicated his life to finding a cure for the
aggressive lower motor neuron disease. Literally his entire life. As far as anyone
knew, he didn’t exist outside a hospital or lab setting—his name had never been linked
to a woman’s, which made him the target for many female rescue fantasies.

Not that
I’d
wanted to rescue him. I’d just yearned to have him eviscerate me with that rapier
stare until I collapsed in on myself like a dying star. In countless daydreams, I’d
made some clumsy or careless mistake in front of him and he’d dragged me by the arm
to his office and given me a stern dressing-down. I was in tears long before he finished,
but that didn’t stop him from bending me over the desk and pulling down my panties
to reinforce the lesson with a stinging, bare-handed spanking.

And that was just one of the many twisted fantasies about Dr. Julian Xavier Kilmartin
I’d entertained—not to mention masturbated to—over the two years we were at UW together.
I couldn’t even keep him out of my thoughts when I was in bed with his protégée.

And to my everlasting shame, Colin had known it.

The last morning we were together, he’d called me on it while he was still lying over
my back, one hand buried between my legs and his softening cock buried in a place
I’d never imagined allowing any man. I hadn’t even had an orgasm yet—he’d delighted
in making me wait for it, which frustrated me in the moment but was ultimately worth
the suspense.

Not that time.

“You were imagining Julian in here again, weren’t you, Rachel?” he’d panted, flexing
his slippery fingers inside my vagina and grinding his palm against my supremely sensitized
clit. If he’d said anything but that, I might have finally gone over the edge.

But this was the second time he’d skewered me with the uncanny insight, and feeling
embarrassed and a little betrayed that he’d make fun of me in such an intimate moment—not
to mention resentful that he was familiar enough with Dr. Kilmartin to call him by
his Christian name—I’d bucked him off. “I was not, you asshole.”

“Come on, admit it—you’re only sleeping with me because of him.” He laughed when I
screeched. “I don’t mind, honestly. You want me to ask if he’s up for a threesome?”

That’s when I told him to get out. And he’d done it, still chuckling as he walked
out my front door.

For the last time, as it turned out, which hadn’t been my intention at all.

“I wasn’t making fun of you that morning,” Colin said, looking at me intently.

Good God, he was
still
a mind-reader.

“If you want me to even think about your offer, I wouldn’t mention that incident again,”
I managed coolly. “Let’s keep this strictly professional, please.”

“Julian would have turned me down,” Colin persisted, “but only because he felt he
had no choice.”

“Goodbye.” I marched toward the front door.

“He wanted you in the worst way, Rachel McBride.”

I froze, keeping my back to him. “What?”

“Julian wanted you,” he repeated. “But he wouldn’t let himself have you.”

Stunned, I turned to gape at him and he met my eyes without flinching. “Why not?”

“Because you were a newly-minted resident and he was a fellow in the hospital. He’s
an ethical man, Rachel.” Colin sighed. “I owe you an apology. I should never have
said what I did. It was cruel to both of you. My only excuse is that I was jealous.”

And I’d thought my jaw couldn’t drop any further. “Of
what
? You were his protégée, his
pet
.”

He gave me a puzzled look and then shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes, but you’d
caught his attention and I was still insecure enough to resent it.”

“That’s why you slept with me—to get back at me?”

“No,” he said, “I slept with you because I was a horny senior resident and you were
a sweet-smelling little doctor-girl who only had eyes for Julian.”

“So I was a challenge. Nice.”

He sighed. “I’m not winning any points here, am I?”

“You must be joking.”

“Look, I thought it was best to be as honest as I could and clear the air between
us. I’m very sorry, Rachel, and I hope I have the chance to make it up to you. I was
a complete assmunch, and believe me, I’ve regretted it ever since.”

I was still trying to get a handle on Colin’s uncustomary humility when he added darkly,
“Julian was livid.”

“You
told
him?” I hissed.

He nodded somberly. “As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d fucked up and
I thought he’d better hear it from me first.”

“Really? You thought I’d go running to him?” Had he even known me at all?

“No, but word gets around in hospitals.”

“Not from me, it doesn’t.” When he didn’t say anything, I couldn’t resist prompting,
“And?”

“And…he made sure I’d never again say anything without thinking about the potential
consequences first.” When I looked at him curiously, he said, “None of your beeswax.”

Although my imagination was going wild, I shrugged. “If you say so.”

“So do you think you’re mature enough to let bygones be bygones?” he asked, raising
his brow.

I returned the look. “My maturity clearly isn’t the issue here, Dr. Beeswax.”

Colin grinned. “Touché, Dr. McBride. So what about it—are you going to reach out and
grab the chance of a lifetime?”

Confused and torn, I looked out the window. It would be awkward enough working with
Colin again after everything that had happened between us. But knowing Dr. Kilmartin
had once wanted me as a woman, and had now sent for me as a
surgeon
…?

I shook my head. No way would I flatter myself that it was just an excuse to see me
again, because men like him didn’t hide behind excuses. They just took what they wanted.

So why had Colin dangled that bit of information in front of my twitchy little nose
and then moved right along as if it had no relevance now?

Because it probably didn’t.

And even if it did, I couldn’t let it affect my decision. It would be one thing to
give up the fellowship at EVI in favor of a better offer—that was marginally justifiable.
But Julian Kilmartin was the one deliciously frightening fantasy I’d never outgrown,
and my heart still gave a jerk whenever I saw his photo on the internet or read some
news story about him. Finding out that my attraction to him might have been reciprocated,
at least on a physical level, pitched my stomach into free-fall, and everything in
me longed to explore what might still be possible between us.

That would be a totally
un
justifiable reason for passing on EVI. Not to mention unprofessional as hell, and
likely a tiny bit insane. Even if the attraction were still there, why should I expect
it to unfold differently this time? Julian Kilmartin was clearly married to his research.

If I accepted the offer, it would have to be for strictly professional reasons. I
couldn’t let myself hope there might be more to the offer or I’d be setting myself
up for disappointment of epic proportions.

“If I have to get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness, I will.” The intensity
of Colin’s voice startled me. “I’m serious, Rachel. What we’re working on is so big…”

He blew out a huge breath and ran his hand through his short brown hair, which had
lost none of its tendency to curl boyishly. Then he looked at me again. “If you pass
on this, sooner or later you’re going to hate yourself. I guarantee it.”

I bit my lip. “Can I have a few days to think about it?”

“We have an experimental procedure scheduled on the 31
st
, and that date is set in stone. We need you there as soon as possible so we have
time to bring you up to speed.” Unzipping his jacket, he pulled a manila envelope
and handed it to me. “It’s all explained in the contracts.”

“What—”

“I’m due back in Montaneva tomorrow morning so all I can give you is…” He glanced
at his watch. “Five hours. My cell is on my business card. If I don’t hear from you
by three o’clock, I’ll have to make the offer to our second choice.”

Second choice.
So much for there being anything more to the offer.

“No pressure there,” I grumbled.

“Julian’s personal assistant will take care of all the details for you—moving and
storage, travel arrangements, mail forwarding—”

“Is she going to break the news to my parents and sisters?”

“If you want
him
to, yes, he will.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was kidding, but no thanks. If I accepted, could I at least tell
EVI who I’d be working for so they’d know I wasn’t making the decision lightly?”

“Of course. Julian will be contacting Brian Duff personally anyway.”

Well that made me feel a little better. Dr. Duff would probably jump ship himself
to work with Julian Kilmartin.

“You have a passport,” he said, as if a negative answer were unthinkable. If he’d
shown up here two months earlier, that’s what he would have gotten, though.

“Yes. I did make it to the Turks and Caicos last month.”

“I know. How was the diving?”

He
knew
? What the hell did that mean? And what the hell else did he know?

“Great,” I said in a defiant tone.

“Excellent. So all you have to do is fill out the paperwork, sign the contracts in
front of a notary, and pack your bags. Julian will have your work visa expedited.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“You will.” He checked his watch again and headed for the front door.

“I’m not going to sleep with you again,” I threw out desperately.

“I’m not going to ask,” he threw back with a gleam in his eye.

That shut my mouth, first with embarrassed annoyance and then with confusion. Exactly
what did he mean by
that
?

Standing on the threshold, he said, “Five hours, Rachel—don’t be late.”

It didn’t dawn on me until the door closed softly behind him that I was holding my
breath. I’d always felt slightly at sea with Colin Carter, and clearly that hadn’t
changed a bit. After just ten minutes in his company, I felt as though I were on a
small boat in the middle of a rolling ocean and hadn’t gotten my sea legs under me.

And yet Colin
had
changed. He’d been genuinely humble and earnest, qualities I would never have ascribed
to him five years ago. He’d apologized for his behavior back then, something I’d never
known him to do. He’d even offered to get down on his knees and beg for my cooperation,
something the hotshot senior resident I’d known would
never
have done.

Dr. Colin Carter had obviously matured quite a bit, and he’d made me a straightforward
professional offer with no apparent strings attached. So why did I still feel like
we were playing some kind of game and he was the only one who knew the rules?

God, was it me? Was I reading subtext in his words that wasn’t there? Was I the one
who hadn’t changed, who hadn’t managed to move on after he vanished from my life?

It was a humbling thought.

Sighing, I pushed over a pile of papers and slumped onto the couch. From a professional
standpoint, I’d have to be insane to pass up such offer—I knew I had the diagnostic
instincts, the surgical skills and the competitive drive to play with the big boys,
and this project could be history in the making.

But from a personal standpoint, I was hopelessly outclassed and likely to make a complete
fool of myself.