OBSESSIVE LUST

CHAPTER 15

He settled back slowly, his throat clearing softly as he sat beside me in the creaking chair. Softly, he pushed out a hand to put my plate in front of me first, as if he was assuring himself I was ready before him.

"Uh. let's eat," he whispered.

I caught him staring at me for a moment, observing the way his spoon was hanging down rather than up, clumsily perched on the table. I couldn't help but burst out laughing when I saw it. It was such a little thing, but for some odd reason, it caught me by surprise and made me laugh.

He raised an eyebrow when he heard me, looking up, and said, "Why? What's funny?"

I was pointing at his spoon, still chuckling a bit. "You're holding it incorrectly," I told him, struggling not to laugh anymore.

His face softened immediately, and wordlessly, he re-gripped the spoon and took off a bite. I watched how he went about it easily, then remembered that I had gotten a bruise on my hand earlier.

That was from the old man who had hit me, and my hand was still painful and swollen. I had to struggle to cut through the steak because of the soreness. I did not ask for help.

I thought that I could manage on my own, but then Liam's sympathy got the better of him. His act of wanting to help surprised me, he was just as contented to help my burden even when he was eating in the middle of a meal.

"I can do it," I whispered, my voice attempting to stay level.

"I know," Liam said softly, but resolutely. "But still, let me. You're clearly in pain. I'd rather assist than stand here and see you writhing." His eyes locked onto mine for an instant, his face creased with real concern.

"Thank you," I whispered softly, a little embarrassed but happy to be able to take his sympathy.

"Always… for you," he said softly, smiling warmly as he went back to slicing the food with care.

His smile caused my heart to pound, more so when I got lost in it. I told myself to keep calm. It was just his helpfulness, that's all." I understood a lot of that.

He gave me the plate of sliced food, and a tissue, too, and then returned to his own food.

I ate, and then, suddenly, a weird nausea washed over me....it was as if all my hunger disappeared, and I was left with a sick feeling in my belly. Was I sick? I tried to push the sensation away, telling myself I could deal with it. But the illness hit hard.

I just about managed to get my head turned away in time before I was ill, right over my dinner. A rush of shame swept over me.

I glanced at him, anticipating that he would get angry or angered by the mess. He bristled for a moment and then quickly offered his hand to get busy cleaning up the mess. His face conveyed concern, not annoyance. He picked up a bunch of tissues and gently cleaned my face and hands before cleaning up the mound of vomit in him. When I saw him, I knew that he actually did care, and it made me more uncomfortable but in some ways safer too.

"Are you sick?" he whispered, looking at the dirt but at me too.

"I don't know," I confessed, my voice trembling. "But honestly, whether or not someone cares this much just really doesn't matter."

"I cared."

My eyes moved wildly with shock at his statement. "You care about me?" I asked, stunned.

"Why wouldn't I?" He said.

He met my gaze, his eyes so soft and warm. Without even a pause, he reached in and took his phone away. "Get someone to clear this up and prepare the car," he instructed him firmly but authoritatively.

"Where are you taking us?" I asked.

"Hospital," he said shortly. "We have to take you in. It could be your stomach. Possibly an ulcer or something. No way you should feel this way."

I blinked my eyes open in amazement. "Ulcer? How on earth do I get something like that? I eat like a lion constantly, starving constantly, always hungry to eat whatever comes to hand."

He took a deep breath. "Let's just go, shall we?"

"Okay, boss," I grumbled under my breath, still drowsy.

Liam stood and then moved towards me, smiling. "Come here, young madam," he whispered.

"Young madam?" I c****d an eyebrow.

He smiled, eyes glinting. "Is there anything wrong with me saying that? Unless, of course, someone's already doing it."

I rolled my eyes, irritated but amused. I extended my hand, and hoped he would grasp it. He looked at me with shock and fondness.

"Since when have women been doing that first move?" he bantered, voice laden with incredulity.

"Since now," I said, a little obstinately.

He paused for a moment before shaking my hand. It was warm and strong.

"Don't get too full of yourself, young madam," he teased, voice light. "I might throw you off the balcony if you keep being cheeky."

I grinned. "And since when did you get flustered with me?"

"Since now," he shot back curtly, grinned back at me.

"You're mimicking me now?"

"Come on. We have to rush," he grinned. "Young madam."

I could feel my cheeks flush, but shook my head. "f**k off, Liam. Don't play games with me. Stop teasing me."

He laughed, then his voice turned serious. "Then don't do anything that'll make me think you are pissed. I'll just make it worse."

Despite all that, I couldn't help but smile. His teasing was frustrating but reassuring. The day had gone horribly awry, yet I knew I was in good hands with him, perhaps better than I realized at the time.

Because we are in the vehicle, there is only silence everywhere. The driver, who is also a sort of personal assistant, is focusing on the road but sometimes looks at us through the mirror. Liam is stiff, twisting his hands up in each other as if to comfort himself.

I have no idea what hospital we are on our way to. I guess it's the nearest one, but I don't know. It is amazing how quiet can be so loud. It sticks with us until the moment the car finally arrives and we pull up in front of the hospital doors.

When we come in and enter, I am surprised. All the hospital society members...nurses and staff, bow to Liam. As if he were some VIP, some person who becomes respected simply for being present without even trying.

I regard Liam with a raised eyebrow. "Why did they bow? "I ask softly.

He gazes at me with a determined but severe face. "I own this," he declares.

I blink in surprise. "What else do you exactly own?" My voice trembles a bit from the combination of confusion and curiosity. He hesitates for a second before responding with a small, almost amused smile.

"Saying that to you is as hard as counting your hairs." He extends his hand and pushes a door open.

Even before I can mutter more, he turns to an orderly and growls an order. "Sir," the doctor begin, stammering. She blink and attempt to concentrate.

"I want you to check up on her," he instructs firmly. "We were eating dinner in my kitchen and she just vomited." His tone indicates that he cares, but also that he's accustomed to handling serious situations.

I glance at him, attempting to understand precisely what is going on.

The doctor extended her hand and took me to the consulting room. As she opened the door, I already heard a whispered remark outside from his assistant.

He inquired with a jesting tone, "Did you two say that in your condo?"

Upon hearing what he said, I couldn't help but smile.

I collapsed onto the bed within, and that made me feel slightly fatigued.

When I was going to sleep completely, the doctor softly called out for me. Gently she assured me, "You can rest a bit if you want. Just lie back and rest easy. I'll wake you when time is." I was soothed by her soft voice and nodded lightly, thanking her for her kind concern.

With that, I shut my eyes.

A few minutes, or a little longer before I opened them again. Standing next to me, I could see the doctor, Liam, and his assistant. They were close, just within the reach of my arms. Their faces were serious and calm at the same time, and I felt a thrill of wonder and worry.

I glanced over at Liam, "What's up?" My voice shook a little, but I tried to remain calm. Liam, who smiled gently, sat next to me. His stern-looking eyes were nice ones.

He hesitated for a moment, then looked me directly in the eyes. "We have something we want to tell you," he said bluntly.