Chapter 22
Ridge
Robyn’s back is straight as she walks away. Her shoulders are pulled back. Her hair is a tumble of dark waves around her shoulders.
I wait a beat, then follow.
I keep my distance. Far enough that no one would put two and two together, but also close enough to do my job as her bodyguard.
I fucked up.
That should never have happened.
I let my dick run the show. I let my dragon push to the front. I lost control in a big way.
I’ve never been jealous a day in my life. Not once.
Tonight, all of that came undone. I saw the way that male Rider looked at Robyn, and my blood ignited in my veins.
I hated that she told him I’m her bodyguard, not her date. Like she was leaving the door open for him. Like she wanted him.
I let her goad me. Hell, I pushed right back.
I sure as shit wasn’t supposed to kiss her…or fuck her. My balls pull tight just thinking about her snug pussy, her strangled cries. Holy shit!
She’s reached the main hall. I see her step through the door.
She turns left, scanning the room, and finds her table.
She moves through the space with that same composed walk, smiling at someone here, dipping her head to someone there.
She reaches her chair, leans down, and picks up the small clutch she left on the seat.
She flips it open and pulls out a tube of lipstick and a tiny mirror. She does it all in three seconds, standing right at the table, mirror angled toward her face. The lipstick goes on in two quick swipes. Then she blots her lips together and packs everything away.
Seconds later, she fishes out a folded sheet of paper, putting her clutch back down.
And then she lifts her head, tilts her chin up, and walks toward the stage.
A male in a dark suit standing at the side of the stage spots her. His eyes widen, and he smiles as soon as he sees her. Then he moves to intercept her, saying something low as he reaches her. She says something back, and he smiles, then nods. He gestures for her to take the few steps that lead up.
She climbs them, holding her dress up. She crosses to the podium and puts her papers down on the lectern, then drops her hands to either side of the wood.
Her skin is flushed. Her lips are plump from my kisses. Her hair falls about her shoulders in glossy strands. I prefer it down. It suits her. She looks a little wild and yet put together. She has that “just been fucked” look, although no one will recognize it but me, since I put it there.
That dress was made for her. It hugs her every curve.
She nods at the male in the suit, the same one who met her at the steps. He waves at the DJ, who slowly lowers the music. Then he lifts a mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, and the room goes quiet by another notch. “If you would please take your seats. It is my great pleasure tonight to introduce a woman who needs no introduction in this room. It’s the Head of Shifter Medicine. Please welcome, Dr. Robyn Keller.”
The applause is warm.
Robyn smiles, lifts a hand in a small wave, and the male steps off the stage.
She clears her throat.
“Good evening,” she says, and her voice is a notch too high.
“Thank you for being here. Thank you for the work you do and the support you have shown this hospital over many years. Tonight is about, um, it’s about recognizing the contribution that all of you make, and the work that is being done on this island in shifter medicine, in trauma, and in—”
She glances down at the page.
“—in our ongoing efforts to push the b-boundaries of what is possible in our field. Ahhhh…last year alone, our trauma department admitted three hundred and t-twelve major cases, of which two hundred and ninety walked out of our doors.” She clears her throat again.
“It is a number which we are very proud of, and which we could not have achieved w-without the support of the…um…the donors in this room.”
She swallows and then clears her throat again. Then she takes a sip of water.
“You know what everyone.” She crumples up her speech using one hand and drops it on the podium beside her. There’s a small ripple of confused amusement in the room. A few heads tilt.
“I’m going to try that again,” she says, and her voice has changed. It’s lower and warmer. “I’m going to be honest with you. Believe it or not, but public speaking isn’t my forte.”
There are a few laughs through the audience and a whole lot of smiles.
“I was very nervous about tonight. What am I saying? I’m still nervous.”
More people laugh.
“I am very comfortable in scrubs at three in the morning with my hands inside a dragon’s chest cavity, covered in blood. Up here in front of you, I’m a mess.”
The room laughs.
She smiles, a little surprised herself.
“A friend told me to speak from the heart instead of reading a stuffy speech,” she says. “So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell you what it actually looks like in our department, and why every single one of you matters more than you know.”
She pauses as she looks out at them.
“Every person who works in our hospital gives heart and soul to that building. Our nurses pull double shifts. Our doctors live on bad coffee and worse canteen food. Our attendings work hours that no reasonable employer would permit, and they do it because it matters. We make a difference on this island. We save lives. We do it because at three in the morning, when a hangar door rolls back, and a critical case is wheeled in, there is no one else. We are it. We are that patient’s last chance. ”
The hall has gone quiet. Every eye is on Robyn.
“We work as a team, because we have to. There is no surgeon in our department who is the hero of any particular case.”
She looks down at her feet for a second.
“And when we lose one,” she goes on, and her voice goes a fraction lower, “we feel it. The hours, the missed dinners, the lousy food, the time on our feet, the lack of sleep, all of that turns into something heavier in those moments. It’s the cost of the work.
We pay it because we love what we do. Because we cannot imagine doing anything else or being anywhere else. ”
She lifts her chin.
“When the Council asked me to take on overseeing shifter medicine on this island, I told them I would only accept on one condition. That I be allowed to keep operating. To keep my place in our surgery rotation. They agreed. I am not in the surgical theater as much as I would like to be. I am not at as many bedsides as I want to be. But I will keep showing up there for as long as I am able to, because that is where the work is. And we will keep doing the work, for as long as it takes, with whatever we have. We just need you, the people in this room, to keep doing what you do, too. This is particularly true during times of uncertainty where we all need to stand together in support of one another. We have no idea what the future will hold. All I know is that without your support, without your funding, without your belief in what we are building, the lights stay off in the rooms that need them most. Thank you for all you do for us. Thank you from my team and from every life that has been saved and all the lives that will be saved in the future.”
She steps back from the podium.
At first, there is a lengthy silence, and I hold my damned breath. The room comes apart, and I sigh.
The applause starts at the front and rolls back, and three or four people stand at the closest tables, and then more, and within a few seconds, half the room is on its feet. Robyn’s hand goes briefly to her mouth, then she lowers it, and she gives a small nod that takes them all in.
This female.
Fuck!
I watch her up there, flushed and a little teary. She’s brighter than every light in this room, and I cannot make the picture fit.
This female can’t be feeding intel to the Mainland. She can’t be. Robyn saves lives. It’s her passion. The way she lit up speaking about it…
Every instinct tells me she’s the real thing.
Then again, I can’t be sure because I’ve been compromised. She could be playing the hell out of me. Is she trying to cloud my judgment? Is she using her body to do it? Does she want to get me taken off the case?
Hell, what I just did in that corridor is exactly what a handler would tell her to do.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
She’s wrapping up at the podium. The applause swells again.
No.
I can trust my instincts. They’ve never led me astray.
Except I fucked up this time, good and proper.
I’ll find Reed first thing in the morning.
I’ll tell her exactly what happened and take whatever she gives me, which is most likely my badge, my role, and quite possibly a slot in front of a disciplinary panel of the full Council.
I deserve all of it. I have compromised an active investigation. I crossed a line.
My dragon snarls inside my ribs. He doesn’t see Robyn as a threat.
I push him down.
He’s the reason I’m here. He gets no say in this matter.
I work my jaw. I keep my face neutral as I scan the room.
Up at the podium, Robyn is stepping down. She moves into the small group at the foot of the steps, shaking hands and accepting cheek kisses. Her smile is bright, and her cheeks are still flushed.
She looks across the room, and her eyes find mine.
For half a second, she holds my gaze, then she falters, looking away.
I straighten my jacket. I square my shoulders. Walking away now would be the worst possible thing to do. I need to make this work for me.
I have a plan.
It’s fucking terrible. It’s a plan that could very well end with my career on a knife-edge. But it’s all I’ve got.
I need to confront Robyn. I’m hoping she agrees.