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"Is she OK?"
Drake nodded. "She just needs to rest. Get some more fluids into her."
My father came over to where I lay on the bed. "Maybe you should stay in your room for dinner. Drake can order something in for you. They could send up some turkey and fixings."
I nodded. I felt incredibly fatigued as if I'd just survived an ordeal. I didn’t want to go to the dining room.
"I'll just stay here and watch TV."
Drake put his hand on my father's arm.
"I'll make sure she's all right. She needs to just rest. We can order something from room service when she gets hungry. You two go ahead."
My father and Elaine came by and kissed me on the cheek and then left us alone.
"I'm hungry," he said, checking out the menu. "What would you like to eat? Do you really want turkey? Or something local, fresh?"
I shook my head. "Whatever you want. I'm just going to close my eyes for a bit."
I heard him talking on the phone, his voice soft. Then he came over and sat beside me on the bed. He took my wrist and felt my pulse and then leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"Just rest a bit. I'll watch some headlines."
He stretched out on the bed beside me and turned on the television, switching channels until he found the international news. I closed my eyes and just drifted, the sound of some news anchor's voice lulling me into a pleasant dreamlike state.
I woke up to find Drake spooned against me, his arm around me, his hand flat under my left breast. I rolled over onto my back and he adjusted himself, his eyes a bit sleepy. He kept his hand on my breast.
"You like keeping your hand there?" I said, and smiled.
"I was just taking your pulse, making sure you were OK."
"Yeah, right…"
"Seriously," he said, his face poker-straight. "You overheated. I wanted to make sure you were all right. I was feeling your apical pulse, just under your left breast."
"Oh," I said, feeling a bit silly. "I didn't realize doctors did that."
He leaned in, grinning and nuzzled my neck. "No, you sweet thing, I was just kidding. I just like squeezing your lovely breast. But I did also feel your pulse and it was perfect. I could have felt it here," he said, slipping his hand down my body from my pubes to my inner thigh. "It's called the femoral pulse, but I thought that might be a bit dangerous…"
Just then there was a knock at the door. Drake jumped up. "That's room service with our meal."
He opened the door and a waiter came in with a cart covered in white linen, with several dishes covered with metal domes to keep the food warm. Drake signed for the bill and gave the waiter a tip. When we were alone, he lifted the domes and examined the food.
"What did you order?"
"Fresh fish and vegetables, some salad. Not much of a turkey man. Hope you're hungry, because I sure am."
My stomach did feel empty as I sat up, watching Drake as he arranged our table, setting out the dishes and pulling the chairs into proper position.
"Come," he said, motioning to the food. "You need some food in you, get your blood sugar up. I'm going to keep you busy tonight and you need your strength."
That sent a rush of desire through me. "You have it all planned out?"
"You know it."
He pulled a chair out and motioned to me so I got up and smoothed my hair and my sundress and sat beside him. Then, he proceeded to feed me my meal, the fish delicious and cooked in some very simple herbs.
"Do you always feed your subs?"
