Killian planted the heels of her feet against his buttocks egging him to go faster. He slowly increased his pace until he was slamming into her with consistent ferocity.
“I’m coming,” He whispered into her ear.
“Me too,” Killian admitted as she moaned wildly into his ear.
Their admission was like a switch that brought them both to the apex. She felt like she was free falling into an endless abyss. Her orgasm was in perfect tandem with his.
Max’s body jerked relentlessly like a ball of energy that suddenly uncoiled and dissipated as he squeezed the last drop of his cum inside her. Then he flopped like an empty sack on top of her with his cock still gripped inside her pussy.
Killian lightly scratched the skin on his back with her nails as she waited for their normal breathing to resume. Minutes passed before they both found the strength to even stir. The fatigue that wrapped around them made their limbs feel like lead.
Max moved away releasing her from the weight that was his body on top of hers. He turned to his side and gathered her in the folds of his arms.
Killian sighed with immense satisfaction. If there ever was a place specially created for anyone, she found her own lying her in his arms. Then a thought struck her. She tried to control the giggle that surfaced and eventually escaped from her mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Max asked curiously.
“Us,” Killian replied laughing. “All that elaborate preparation just to give you a spa treatment…and we never even made it to the bathroom.”
Chapter ELEVEN
Killian was grateful the bathroom stall for the exclusive use of nurses at the hospital was empty. Nobody needed to see her spew the remains of her breakfast into the toilet bowl. She wished there was something more she could do about this latest edition of the tabloid other than twist and tear it into pieces before flushing it down the toilet.
She was certain this particular edition must have reached every street and corner of the city. Someone, somewhere, out there reading the magazine must be calling her a whore, a leech, a bloodsucker, a user, and a gold digger.
Early on when the attacks to her reputation began, Killian thought that it would eventually dissipate and die a natural death. It had been nearly a month since the news of their engagement came out. Max assured her that the attention would eventually die down.
Killian never had to deal with this kind of scrutiny in her entire life. Now she knew the meaning of the words “living in a fishbowl”. To live a life where everyone was watching you was restricting. She couldn’t do groceries wearing a faded tracksuit and a scuffed pair of sneakers because she would find her picture splashed in the paper the next day. She couldn’t go out of the house to the convenience store without making sure her hair did not look like a nest. She couldn’t dispose of her trash outside the house without spotting a paparazzi with a camera lurking behind the bushes.
So many things she couldn’t do because suddenly she was famous. The ordinary girl who bagged a rich guy. Killian discovered that there was a very thin line between famous and notorious. And whoever said “the pen is mightier than the sword” must have been referring to these journalists because Killian could hardly recognize who she was in their stories. And, she often wondered why it was the ugliest photos of her which landed in the front pages.
She and Max decided early on that the best defense was silence, never to answer or correct any of the blunders that were written about them. “No Comment” became their standard mantra.
There was one journalist called Jason Martell particularly brutal to Killian. He reported stories that sounded like the truth but he had the knack of twisting it to make it sound shocking and controversial.
Oftentimes, Killian wanted to lash out at him for saying those lies about her. But Max explained that the truth did not sell. Controversial stories did.
She wanted to know the reason why this journalist seemed to have made it his crusade to bash her. She wanted to say her engagement was not a sham. Not anymore.
Killian and Max never expected to fall in love, never expected the longing to be with each other, always together, and how incomplete they both were without the other. How could she share with the whole world all the succeeding nights of hot steamy sex that lasted till the wee hours of the morning? Or how relieved she truly was about the strategic location of her fiancée’s bedroom which was separate from the main house, otherwise Julia Saint could be up all night listening to the sighs, groans, and moans emanating from her son’s bedroom.
Killian couldn’t tell the truth without revealing the real truth about how they began as a couple.
And it wasn’t just that.
Things had gotten more complicated with the cottage in the woods. From the initial 5-bedroom cottage of Killian’s dream, it had transformed into a 20-bed facility that Max wanted Killian to manage.
She could still remember that night clearly. They were both naked in bed and she was wrapped in his arms.
“I was thinking about the cottage…” Max began
“Oh, you should see it,” Killian said with so much enthusiasm she was literally bouncing in his arm. “The bedrooms have all been restored. The glass windows make so much difference letting all that sunshine it. It’s so beautiful. Anyone who stays will surely be happy,” she beamed.
“I’m sure they will because you put so much of yourself into it,” Max replied, and then added, “That’s one thing I admire about you. You work hard to get what you want and you stick with it. So, I was thinking…what if we start something bigger than just a 5-bed facility?”
Killian noticed his use of the word “we” and was elated he was onboard. His business savvy would come in handy when she starts operating the cottage. She had a lot to learn.
“I couldn’t decide then because the bedrooms are so beautiful but I did think of dividing one bedroom into two. The bedrooms become smaller but I get to have more beds,” Killian said, still very much undecided.
Max was deep in thought. Then he asked, “What if we retain the cottage the way it is now in memory of my grandma for whom mom built it? We construct another house at the back of the property and that’s where you have the space to add more bedrooms.”
Killian rested her chin in the back of her hands as she lay propped on his stomach.
“That sounds like a great idea…in about three to five years’ time… after I have recovered expenses and then saved some more money to build an annex,” Killian replied.
“Why wait three years when you can do it now?” Max asked earnestly.
“Will you stop teasing,” she protested, giving him a slap in the chest.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he replied. Just listen…”
Max outlined his grand plan of how the cottage could actually become a facility that is part of the hospital. He would invest hospital funds to buy state-of-the-art modern equipment making the operation of the little cottage at par with the best. Geriatric patients would have a place to stay that was similar to home, freeing the nurses at the hospital to tend to more serious cases.
Killian’s eyeballs almost popped out. Max was outlining a plan so grand it hardly resembled her original idea and the reason why she fell in love with the cottage.
“It all sounds great,” Killian hesitated.
“And perfectly up to your alley,” Max refused to be dissuaded.
Killian decided not to pursue it then but vowed she would sit down with him again to discuss it further. She wanted him to see her dream the way she saw it and not the way he thought it should be. She wasn’t saying no to him. But she didn’t want to say yes because she had this nagging feeling that things would get complicated.
It was like some premonition because the negative write-ups did begin. She shrugged it off because Max reassured her it would eventually go away. But it didn’t stop. It escalated.
In the meantime, Max set up a meeting with the company lawyer who asked Killian to sign some documents. K
illian was still reeling from the last bad press of Jason Martell. She cried after reading the tabloid. She was so upset she just signed whatever the lawyer placed on the table in front of her.
The harder she tried to convince herself she wasn’t affected by anything she read the more she knew she was. With Max, she pretended to laugh about it. But when she was alone, she often broke down and cried.
Every lie stripped a little bit of her dignity leaving her more exposed… and in pain. She dreaded the day that she had no more to give. She loved Max. She loved him with all her heart even if a small part of her brain whispered that there was some basis for Jason Martell’s doubt. How often do ordinary girls bag rich guys like Max?
And now this…
If Killian thought things couldn’t get shittier than they already were, she couldn’t have been more mistaken. This latest article by Jason Martell was so bad it made her nauseous enough to hurl all the contents of her stomach and puke. Even as she flushed and watched the torn pieces of tabloid spin and disappear into the toilet drain, she could still remember every word of the article like a branding iron that marked her brain.
Jason Martell made the article sound like an investigative report but he managed to destroy her reputation as a nurse, even as he questioned Max’s capacity to lead the hospital as Chairman. Also, he questioned the loyalties of the members of the board and cast doubt as to the real purpose of the hospital as a place for the sick.
He began the article by claiming that he had in his possession CCTV footage of Maxwell Saint returning to his office at the Medical Arts Building across the hospital before 9 PM on a particular night. The same footage shows Killian Church arriving shortly and staying for over an hour before finally leaving the building.
Jason Martell’s malicious implication was that nurses at the hospital worked as whores to earn extra cash. The men who composed the board could request any of the nurses to have sex with, and the nurses couldn’t refuse for fear of losing their jobs.
Martell accused Nurse Killian Church of being a calculative, manipulative bitch who managed to captivate Maxwell Church who later gifted her with properties that were in reality hospital assets. The article went on to say that Killian had been given an honorary title so that she and her lover, Maxwell Saint, could systematically pillage the assets of the hospital and have total control over them.
He went on to slander the hospital as a breeding ground for prostitutes that pretended to be a medical facility so they could avail of tax exemption from the government. He made that insinuation by posing a question, “What else goes on behind the walls of this medical facility?”
Killian heaved loudly as another round of nausea hit her. Her stomach was empty. She had nothing more to puke. Every heave only made her throat painfully sore. She left the stall with trembling knees, went to the wash basin and splashed water into her face.
A little clarity returned. She stared at her reflection on the mirror hoping the image on the other side could offer some advice. Although these articles hurt in the past, she took comfort in the thought that it was only about her. No one else was being hurt by the negative write-ups.
She was aware of the gossip and malicious insinuations about her and Max among the nurses on the floor. But she took it all in stride because the hospital was an environment that was familiar, and therefore, something she could control. She didn’t have to pretend to be close to any of the other girls. She was happy and doing her job efficiently. That was all that mattered.
But this last article was different. The writer Jason Martell practically accused Max of employing tactics to manipulate the whole Board. He called the members useless old men who couldn’t see beyond their noses and incapable of taking care of the hospital’s interests. Worst of all, he managed to cast doubts on the integrity of the hospital as an institution by insinuating that there was more going on behind its façade.
Killian wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and stay there until this whole thing blew over. But she couldn’t. She was consumed with an urgency to see Max to seek solace in his embrace, to hear him say that everything will be alright.
She wondered if he was in his office at the Medical Arts Building across the hospital. As much as possible, she dodged seeing him within hospital premises to avoid giving anyone more reason to talk about them. That no longer applied. Martell just made sure everyone associated with the Maxwell Saint Sr. Memorial Hospital had something to talk about for the next weeks and months.
Killian left the bathroom and made her way to the elevator and down to the ground floor. She wanted to see Max in his office and fervently hoped he was in.
As soon as the elevator doors opened at the lobby, she immediately sensed that something was amiss. There appeared to be more than the usual number of people in the lobby. Their hurried movements were a clue.
Killian fought her way through a crowd outside the hospital. The throng stretched all the way across to Max’s office building. The entrance doors to the building itself were heavily manned by hospital security keeping all spectators from entering the premises.
Killian approached one of the guards and displayed her ID. He allowed her to enter through a small opening in the door and immediately shut it behind her.
The lobby of the medical arts building was in bedlam. It was packed tightly that one could hardly move. She noticed that most of the crowds fighting for floor space were journalists. The word PRESS was emblazoned clearly on the lanyards hanging from their necks. There were microphones and cameras everywhere.
Killian knew she couldn’t wade her way through the thick crowd to go to the elevator. Hospital security guards blocked the elevator doors. Angry voices floated through the air.
“Why are you barring us from entering the offices,” a taunting voice asked. “What are you trying to hide?”
“Yeah, Martell is right,” another journalist added. “If you guys have nothing to hide, your bosses should be out here defending themselves and giving interviews and denying everything that was written in the papers.”
“Written by me, you mean,” Jason retorted. “Let’s not forget who gave you guys the scoop,” he bragged.
It became clear to Killian what was happening. The press who was out here in droves probably wanted to get the side of the hospital so they could write their own stories, while Jason Martell was here to gloat and remind everyone that he wrote the exposé.
Killian knew there was no way she could pass through the swarm that led to the elevator. She wondered what Max and the rest of the Board were doing. Were they with the corporate lawyer formulating an official statement? That sounded the most likely scenario. She doubted if Max or any member of the Board would actually come down. It would be the lawyers who would deliver the statement.
That thought was a relief. She didn’t want Max in the middle of this horde. Things could turn nasty. There was a mixed crowd of journalists, some were probably legit, while others were similar to Jason Martell whose ethics were questionable.
Killian wondered then how she could leave. The door from which she entered was barricaded from the outside. She couldn’t go out that way. Then she remembered the exit doors at the back. That was her most likely means of escape from the lobby.
She inched her way trying not to attract any attention. Some heads turned in her direction, looked away, and then turned back as recognition set in.
“Hey, aren’t you Killian Church?”
Her name echoed and re-echoed from each mouth of every journalist in that tightly packed crowd. She heard someone scream, “She’s mine first. I gave you the scoop.”
Killian knew it was Jason Martell who was suddenly elbowing his way past all the others in his attempt to get to her. Everyone’s heads were turned toward her; no one noticed the elevator has opened to reveal Max with the lawyers trailing behind him.
For a split second, their eyes met through the crowd. Hers displayed all the fear and panic she felt because the horde of reporters led by Jason Ma
rtell was descending on her. She was trapped between the wall behind her and the stampede of bodies moving in a single direction towards her. It was like being in a nightmare where people wanted a piece of you, pulling, shouting, and shoving until she couldn’t breathe.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, ears ringing from the uproar. She knew someone was pulling her and she couldn’t hold her ground even if she wanted to.
Killian didn’t know how it could be possible that above the uproar she heard a familiar voice screaming, “Get away from her, you fucking idiots. I swear I’ll kill every one of you. Leave her alone, you fucking shits.”
It was Max. He was elbowing his way towards her. When he was close enough, he grabbed Jason Martell who was towering over Killian. Jason, who had his back towards him, had no idea who it was that was trying to pull him away. Thinking it was another journalist, Jason closed a fist and struck. His fist grazed the side of Max’s chin.
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 55
