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That sent a surge of desire through me. "I'm sorry," I said, feeling small. "She's very attractive."

"Kate," he said, his voice indulgent. He shook his head, smiling. "There's nothing to be jealous of. It's you I want. It's you I love."

"She's going to be your student?" I said, my jealousy slowly waning, growing smaller and smaller with each passing moment. "You'll work with her every day?"

Drake shook his head. "She came here to learn robotic surgery. That's what I'm teaching."

"So, you'll work with her."

"Kate…" He rubbed his eyes and exhaled heavily. I could tell he was getting upset, his earlier amusement replaced by frustration. "This isn't like you."

"I've never been face to face with one of your former lovers before. My green eyes got the better of me."

"I love your green eyes," he replied, his voice low. "But you have no reason to be jealous. What happened to make you feel so insecure?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. I'm sorry," I said, and stopped myself.

"No, tell me. Complete openness, remember?"

I sighed. "When I was in the washroom, she came in with Camille and I overhead them talking about you. Sam said I was a mousy little thing and that you could do a lot better. That's what happened."

"What?" he said, shaking his head. "You are not mousy. You've got chestnut brown hair with gold highlights. You've got wide green eyes. A hot little body and make-me-delirious breasts. And I couldn't do a lot better. You're the best. The crème de la crème. Seriously. This is the wine talking."

"In vino veritas," I said, holding up my glass. "In wine there is truth. Isn't that how the saying goes?" I took a long slurp of my wine. I knew it was more than I could handle normally, but I was already past the point of no return.

"You want the truth?" Drake said, his voice quiet, deep.

I nodded and leaned in as if to hear a secret. "The honest truth, yes. Tell me, Drake. What is the truth?"

"The truth, Ms. Bennet," he said and leaned even closer. He brushed the backs of his fingers against my cheek, and then touched the scar on my bottom lip. "The unadorned truth is that I was thunderstruck that night I met you and found out who you were."

"Thunderstruck?"

"Yes. When I bumped into you at the bar, I wished that you were a sub because I thought you were perfect. Petite. Lovely. So sexy in your little black dress. Nice rack."

He grinned at that and I couldn’t help but smile back.

"Then, when I found you at your father's apartment with your knees all bloody, I thought you were a lovely little thing, one of the hired help, who coincidentally happened to have been at the same bar as me. Ethan always kept Katherine away from everyone so I didn’t think you'd be at the fundraiser. I didn’t know you were her."

I frowned, the word 'thunderstruck' bouncing around in my mind. "What does that mean? Thunderstruck?"

"I was struck," he said, a slow smile spreading on his mouth. "By the lightning bolt, as the Sicilians call it."

"The lightning bolt?" I repeated dully.

"If you read Puzo's The Godfather, you'd know that word. Michael Corleone was struck by the lightning bolt when he first saw Apollonia – his future wife. That's how I felt when Dave introduced you. I thought you were delicious looking when I first saw you, but when I learned you were Katherine… Thunderstruck. Completely infatuated. I felt actual physical despair because I couldn’t imagine that you'd be a sub and so we'd never be able to get together. Then it was you with Lara… I was smitten, Kate, and it's only become more intense the longer we're together."

It finally seeped through to my wine-fogged brain what he meant.

"Thunderstruck, hmm?" I said, my jealousy and hurt fading away, replaced by warmth for Drake and a feeling of complete and utter disgust with myself for being so petty.

"Yes, thunderstruck. I still see women, of course, but to me they're pale shades in comparison to you. You're Katherine. My delightfully disobedient and un-submissive sub-in-training. My delicious little morsel of womanhood. Who," he said when I turned my face away, my cheeks hot. "Who understands my love for Africa. Who cries during musical performances. Whose heart I'm still trying to win completely." He took hold of my chin so that I had to look into his eyes. "The love of my life."

"Oh, Drake…" Tears stung in the corner of my eyes and I felt so stupid. "You have won it."

"No, I haven't. If I had, someone's cruel and incorrect words wouldn't matter. You wouldn't be jealous."

I slipped my arms around his neck and squeezed him.

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