Page 73 of Gamble
He’s worth fighting for, she texted back. Even if he’s too stubborn to see it.
The soft whoosh of the curtain separating post-op recovery suites drew her attention, and Jennifer, the pre-op nurse she’d worked with many times, stepped in near Elijah’s bed.
“How’s our patient doing?” Jennifer asked with a knowing smile.
“Vitals are all good. He should wake up anytime now.”
Jennifer moved to check Elijah’s monitors, making notes on her tablet. “You know,” she said, “I heard someone was calling the hospital multiple times last week trying to find out when you’d be working. Very persistent. Used different voices and everything.”
Reagan felt her cheeks warm. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm. Poor guy. He tried to convince Susan in scheduling that he was your cousin from Seattle with a family emergency. His accent was terrible.” Jennifer grinned. “Susan called me, laughing about it. Said whoever it was needed acting lessons.”
Despite everything, Reagan felt a smile tugging at her lips. The image of Elijah trying to avoid her while simultaneously being too proud to just ask was both heartbreaking and endearing.
“He went through a lot of trouble to make sure he wouldn’t run into me,” she said softly.
“Well, he’s going to be pretty surprised when he wakes up then, isn’t he?” Jennifer winked. “I’ll leave you two alone. But Reagan? Be gentle with him. Men like this one don’t know how to be vulnerable gracefully.”
After Jennifer left, Reagan returned to her vigil, thinking about those words. She’d seen Elijah’s dominance, his confidence, the way he could take control of any situation with effortless authority. But she’d also glimpsed his insecurities about his age, his battered body, his fears about not being good enough for her.
The research she’d done over the past four days had taught her that dominance and submission weren’t just about what happened in the bedroom. They were about trust, communication, and the delicate balance of power between two people who created their own dynamic. The dominant partner wasn’t just taking—they were also protecting, nurturing, providing. And the submissive wasn’t just giving up control—they were offering the most precious gift they had: their trust.
She thought about the couples she’d seen at Black Light, the way they moved together like dancers who’d rehearsed the same routine a thousand times. There was an intimacy there that went beyond physical attraction, a connection that seemed to reach the soul level.
Was that what she wanted with Elijah? That kind of deep, all-consuming partnership?
The answer came without hesitation: yes. Absolutely yes.
The question was whether he’d be brave enough to let her try.
A soft groan from the bed pulled her from her thoughts. Elijah’s head was moving against the pillow, his brow furrowed as consciousness slowly returned. Reagan stayed in her chair, wanting to let him wake up without the shock of seeing her.
“Where the hell am I?” he mumbled a minute later, his voice thick with residual anesthesia.
The door opened again, and Jennifer returned with perfect timing. “Good morning, Mr. Keaton. You’re in recovery at Cedar-Sinai. Your surgery went very well.”
Reagan watched as Elijah tried to orient himself, his eyes still heavy-lidded but increasingly alert. He attempted to shift position and grimaced.
“Christ, that hurt,” he groaned.
“That would be your new hip telling you to take it easy,” Jennifer said, checking his IV line. “The good news is Dr. Jennings says everything went perfectly. The bad news is you’re going to be sore for a while.”
“How long was I out?”
“About three hours total. Surgery was two hours, and you’ve been sleeping off the anesthesia for about an hour.” Jennifer made notes on her tablet. “Pain level on a scale of one to ten?”
“Seven. Maybe eight.”
“I can give you something for that. Dr. Jennings left orders for pain medication as needed.”
Reagan saw Elijah’s jaw tighten at the mention of more drugs. She knew from her research—and from Nalani’s stories—that he had a complicated relationship with pain medication. Too many surgeries, too many recoveries, too much time dependent on pills to function.
“I’ll manage,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jennifer exchanged a look with Reagan, who shook her head. Not yet. Let him be the tough guy for a few more minutes.
“Well, I’ll leave it up to you,” Jennifer said diplomatically. “But there’s no prize for suffering. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”
