Page 50 of Blackmail of a Billionaire

Caught off guard by the invitation, Julia hesitated. The prospect of a short reprieve from the impending confrontation with Grant held a certain appeal. Simultaneously, a sense of politeness nudged her towards accepting.

“Yes, I’m free. I’d be happy to,” she found herself saying, her thoughts a mix of gratitude for a timely distraction and a desire to be civil.

“Great,” he said with a wide grin. “Is the Azalea Room downstairs suitable?”

“Of course.”

Kyle guided her from the room and down to the restaurant, securing a table for two overlooking the lush greenery of the lobby.

The waitress approached immediately with their menus. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Scotch, neat. Julia? Wine, perhaps?”

“Just a ginger ale, thank you.”

They perused the offerings and placed their order. Julia sipped at her ginger ale, acutely aware of Kyle’s eyes on her.

She flicked her gaze to him, offering a polite smile.

“So, how’s the wrist feeling?”

“Oh, much better. Just a little sore, but really nothing at all.” She wiggled it around to show him her range of movement.

“Good, that’s very good. I’m glad there is no lasting damage.” His gaze lingered on her again, his icy blue eyes piercing hers.

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Uh, you said you had something you’d like to discuss?”

“Yes, but we could wait until after we’ve eaten.”

“No, please, go ahead, Dr. Carter.”

“Kyle, please.”

She smiled at him. “Kyle.”

He rubbed his hands against his pant legs as he sucked in a breath.

“Julia…this isn’t something that’s easy to bring up, but as a doctor…I feel I must.”

Julia’s heart skipped a beat. Had he seen something in her test results that he hadn’t told her? Visions of brain tumors danced in her mind. She supposed it could explain her odd decisions, of late.

The arrival of their lunch interrupted any further discussion until the waitress bustled away.

“I’m sorry, but is there some problem with one of my tests?” Julia burst as she left.

Kyle shook his head and stabbed at the greens of his grilled salmon salad. “No, no, you’re perfectly healthy. Which in some ways makes this all the harder.”

She huffed out a laugh, as she pushed her pasta around the pasta bowl. “This all sounds very dire.”

After setting his fork down, he dabbed at the corners of his mouth. “It is.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs at the words. What was he talking about?

He pressed his lips together, his eyes settling onto his salad before they flicked up to hers. “Julia, I’m seriously concerned about you.”

She stammered out a few sounds before she swallowed and tried to formulate a response. “I’m sorry, I’m not following you.”

“As a doctor, we see this more often than you may think. And it comes from all backgrounds. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

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