Chapter 8

~ Visitations ~

"Normally, we wouldn't allow non-relatives in," Monica said, directing her gaze at Mac and Dara, "but since Katherine has been asking for you, I won't deny her request. You may go in, but you can only stay for about ten minutes."

"Understood." Mac reached for Dara's hand, but she hung back.

"She asked for Mac," Dara said. "Is it okay for me to go in, too? I can wait out here if there's a problem."

"Having more than one visitor could over-stimulate her and she needs as much rest now as possible," Monica answered.

"I'll be in the waiting room." Dara squeezed Mac's hand. "Give her my regards."

Mac brushed his lips across her cheeks. "Will do."

He pushed inside the door and padded across the room to Katherine's bedside. Golden curls fanned the white pillowcase and framed her ashen face like a halo. He closed his hand around hers and lightly squeezed. Her eyes opened and she smiled.


"Hello, Katherine." He returned her smile. Her face was pale and her grip on his was slight. He wondered if Dr. Quartermaine's prognosis was right. If Katherine really was on the road to recovery. "I can't stay long. The doctors tell me you need your rest."

"That's all I've been doing," she said. "Lying here and sleeping. I'm exhausted from so much sleeping. What else are the doctors telling you?"

Mac shrugged. "Not much. I'm not family so some info is off limits. What are they telling you?"

"Hardly anything." She frowned. "They just tell me I had a bad fall, but they won't tell me anything about it."

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "I've tried and tried, but nothing comes back to me. I woke up with the worst headache." She rubbed her forehead. "Is this what amnesia feels like?"

"I don't know. I've never had it. Listen, I don't want to tire you. I should leave now-"

"Mac, wait. Do you know what happened to me? Can you tell me?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure if I should . . ."

"Please, Mac." Her voice quavered. "Tell me."

"You fell at Wyndemere. You attacked Carlotta Christofides and ended up falling from the parapet."

Her already ashen face became as pale as a ghost, and then spasms shook her body. Mac ran out to call a nurse. The medical personnel pushed him out of the way and rushed inside. He went to Dara.

"What happened?" she asked. "Your face . . ."

"She's having a seizure." He dropped beside onto the sofa. "I told her what happened at the Bacchanalia. I shouldn't have said anything."

Dara closed her arms around him and he fell into her embrace.


"When will your brother return?"

Robert kept his expression blank as he looked at the couple standing in front of him. They identified themselves as Bobby Donnell and Rebecca Washington and left it at that. Neither of them realized that Robert was on to them. They were attorneys and from what Robert 's informants told him, they were Sonny Corinthos' defense team. He wondered what the hell they wanted from Mac.

Robert grabbed a pencil and tapped it against his desk. "I told you. I don't know. He's visiting a sick friend. I'll tell him you stopped by."

"Actually, we'd like to speak with you, too."

Robert nodded, and Bobby and Rebecca sat in the guest chairs across from him. She pulled a notepad and a pen from her briefcase, and Donnell continued to do all the talking.

"We're the defense attorneys for Sonny Corinthos."

"The report of his arrest is in the file," Robert said.

Bobby smiled. "I know. I read the file, but there were a few unanswered questions that keep nagging at me."

Robert shrugged. "I doubt if I can help you."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Bobby said. "But I'm positive you'll have the answer for this. Why were you and your brother the arresting officers? In what capacity were you working?"

"The report should have told you that we were working in connection with the OCB, the Organized Crime Bureau."

"It did," Bobby said with a nod, "but it didn't explain why. The OCB has plenty of its own agents. Why did they employ you and your brother?"

"Maybe they knew we'd get the job done. Your client is long overdue for jail time," Robert clipped. "How you can defend scum like him . . ."

"Everyone is entitled to defense. It's an American right, and I imagine that's why you emigrated from Australia. For the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness."

Robert's jaw clenched. "I don't need you to remind me of the Bill of Rights."

Bobby held up his hands in mock defense. "My apologies. Then, I suppose it's safe to presume that you are aware of due process of law-"

"Your client's arrest was legit. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."


Dawn finished her lesson with Maestro Rinaldi and went in search of Nikolas. Hours passed since she'd last time seen him. She felt a little silly to admit it to herself, but she missed him. This second time around with him was even more intense than the first. Love was grand.

She checked his bedroom first and was happy to find success so quickly. "Nikolai!" She threw herself onto the bed beside him and he grabbed her, pulling her underneath him.

"I've been waiting for you," he growled. His mouth closed over her neck. His teeth nibbled and his tongue licked. Dawn moaned aloud.

"I can't think straight when you do that," she panted.

"Thinking is not all it's reputed to be," he said. His kisses lowered to her collarbone. His fingers tugged on the buttons of her blouse. "We should save thinking for later."

Dawn's body tingled, as his caresses became insistent. He parted her thighs and ground his pelvis against hers. There were no doubts to his aroused state. She wanted to succumb to his seduction, but knew she had to put a stop to it. She pressed her hands to his chest and pushed.

"No," he pouted. "Dawn, please."


He answered her question with a fresh assault. His tongue pushed aside her lace bra and laid claim to her full curves. "That's what I want to do," he said, kissing the hollow between her breasts, "please you."

"Nikolai, we must stop," she pleaded, no longer trying to push him away since her heart wasn't really in to him stopping. At least, not yet.

He rolled off her onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He folded his arms behind his head and said, "I stopped. I hope you're happy now."

"Well, I'm not!" She sat up, grabbed his pillow and slammed it against his chest. "What has gotten into you? An early evening seduction? Didn't we agree to be more conscientious at Wyndemere?"

"I want you. It’s not my fault if I find you irresistible." He grinned and took the pillow from her when she aimed again. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should learn how to behave my racing urges. I'm a slave for you. What can I say?"

"Tell me you'll still feel that way when we've been married for a hundred years."

"Trust me. I'll never stop feeling like this." He pulled her into his arms. "I can't tell you how difficult it is to be in this state all the time. I must consult my tailor and have him readjust the fitting of my pants. My circulation is close to being cut off."

Dawn laughed. "You're too much!" She shifted so that she could look at him. "What did you do today?"

"I looked for a hobby," he told her.

"Did you find one?"

Smiling, he nodded. "Photography."

"Will you show me?"

"Sure, but . . ."

"What? I've seen your photographs before. They're extraordinary. Don't be shy with me, Nikolai."

He grinned. "It's not shyness, love. I want you to pose for me."

"Pose? Me? Why?"

"Because I need help," he said, pouting again. "I can't decide if I want to focus on human subjects or inanimate objects. I need a model, but you don't want to do it, I'm sure I could ask around. Carly said-"

"Ask her and suffer the consequences."

"Jealous?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You wish."

He laughed. "So does this mean you will pose for me?"

"Yes!" She rose from the bed and looked at him. "What, when and where?"

He stood and grabbed her hand. "Let's go. I found the perfect place this morning."

"What about wardrobe?"

"I have everything you'll need right here." He picked up a bag and led her to the door. "This will be great!"

Back | Next