The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [209]
Yeah, he told himself, smiling at the TV. Screw Liz Elliot. That was a humorous thought. Who, he asked himself, would want to? That cold, skinny bitch, with her arrogance and what else? Ryan's mind paused, seeking the answer to the question. What else? She was weak, wasn't she? Weak and timid. Beneath all the bluster and the hardness, what was really in there? Probably not much. He'd seen that sort of National Security Advisor before. Cutter, unwilling to face the music. Liz Elliot. Who'd want to screw her? Not very smart, and nothing in there to back up what smarts she did have. Good thing for her that the President had Bunker and Talbot to fall back on.
You're better than all of them. It was a satisfying thought to accompany the end of this glass of wine. Why not have another? This stuff really isn't all that bad, is it?
When Ryan returned, he saw Cathy was back also, going over her patient notes in the high-backed chair she liked.
"Want a glass of wine, honey?"
Dr Caroline Ryan shook her head. "I have two procedures tomorrow."
Jack came around to take his place in the other chair, almost not glancing at his wife, but he caught her out the corner of his eye.
"Wow."
Cathy looked up from her paperwork to grin at him. Her face was nicely made-up. Jack wondered how she'd managed not to mess her hair up in the shower.
"Where did you get that?"
"Out of a catalog."
"Whose, Fredericks?"
Dr Caroline Muller Ryan, M.D., F.A.C.S., was dressed in a black peignoir that was a masterpiece of revelation and concealment. He couldn't tell what held the robe portion in place. Underneath was something filmy and very nice. The color was odd, though, Cathy's nighties were all white. He'd never forgotten the wonderful white one she'd worn on their wedding night. Not that she'd been a virgin at the time, but somehow that white silk had made her so that, too, was a memory that would never go away, Jack told himself. She'd never worn it since, saying that like her wedding dress, it was something only to be used once. What have I done to earn this wonderful girl? Jack asked himself.
"To what do I owe this honor?" Jack asked.
"I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"Well, Little Jack is seven. Sally is ten. I want another one."
"Another what?" Jack set his glass down.
"Another baby, you dope!"
"Why?" her husband asked.
"Because I can, and because I want one. I'm sorry," she went on with a soft smile, "if that bothers you. The exercise, I mean."
"I think I can handle that."
"I have to get up at four-thirty." Cathy said next. "My first procedure is before seven."
"So?"
"So." She rose and walked over to her husband. Cathy bent down to kiss him on the cheek. "See me upstairs."
Ryan sat still for a minute or two, gunning down the rest of his drink, switching off the TV, and smiling to himself. He checked to make sure the house was locked and the security system armed. He stopped off in the bathroom to brush his teeth. A surreptitious check on her vanity drawer revealed a thermometer and a little index card with dates and temperatures on it. So. She wasn't kidding. She'd been thinking about this and, typically, keeping it to herself. Well, that was okay, wasn't it? Yeah.
Jack entered the bedroom and paused to hang up his clothes, donning a bathrobe before joining his wife at the bedside. She rose to wrap her arms around his neck, and he kissed her.
"You sure about this, babe?"
"Does it bother you?"
"Cathy, to please you - anything you want that I can get or give, honey. Anything."
I wish you'd cut back on the drinking, Cathy didn't say. It wasn't the time. She felt his hands through the peignoir: Jack had strong but gentle hands that now traced her figure through the